Pigs In Space Pt. 01

All aboard for Hello Kitty Island

This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are over the age of 18.

"Well," the pilot asked, "what do you think?"

Ex-Marine and amateur diplomat, Travis Mack, gave the driver a cautious glance. "About what?"

"My baby." the pilot replied patting the glare-shield.

Mack shifted uncomfortably. Did she really want to know? "Your airplane?"

"My AERO-plane." the pilot nodded, "Yes."

'How to answer?' Mack wondered. Right now, the alleged 'aeroplane' was a helicopter masquerading as a stiff-wing. When they reached their destination, the thing would shape-shift again into an airplane impersonating a chopper, neither state having any right to exist. "Can I be honest?"

"I don't know." the pilot shrugged. "Can you?"

Mack looked her up and down, no huge challenge since she couldn't have been taller than five feet on tiptoes. "Airplanes weren't meant to hover." he said.

"We say AERO-plane over here." the copilot reminded him. Slim, graceful, of Mediterranean or Middle-Eastern extraction, she stood leaning on the back of the seat she'd just vacated for the benefit of the visiting American.

"That's 3 syllables Aisha." the flying pilot pointed out. "He's American remember. We better stick to 2."

"Airplane, aeroplane." Mack said, waving the veiled insult away. After months in the company of his Australian sidekick he already knew the drill. This stunning little blonde was just being friendly. "Tomato, tomarto."

"Potato?"

"French Fries. Uh huh. Doesn't make a whole heap of difference. But I still say it's unnatural. Like a dog and a cat having sex. Some things just shouldn't be done."

The pilot looked at Mack and he could tell her eyes were twinkling with mischief behind her gold-mirrored shades. "You were a Marine, am I right?"

Mack's eyebrows gave the merest flicker as he otherwise remained poker-faced. So, his reputation had clearly preceded him. "Till I came to my senses."

"Then how about the Harrier? The AV-8? IT could hover."

Mack had a quick tactical think. The jumpjet wasn't known as the King of Close Air Support for nothing, and while it had turned around and bitten many a driver, some of them fatally, it was always a welcome sight when the chips were down. "True, but only on takeoff and landing. Like, it didn't usually hang around at zero airspeed, at least not for long. Not like a chopper."

The pilot gave the aircraft a loving pat. "Choppers have had their day. These are the way of the future."

Mack squirmed uneasily in his seat. "Really? You know I saw a bunch of these auger-in over in the Sandpit. Know what we called 'em? The 'Widowmaker'."

"Ospreys?"

Mack nodded. "V-22s."

The pilot blew a raspberry. "THOSE old clunkers? You know when they designed those things Pontius was a test pilot. These babies are a whole different kettle of fish. The V-22 was designed for military pilots, not the sharpest tools in the shed, no offence. But these are real sports-cars. The way of the future. Mark my words."

"Forty years and they still haven't caught on." the big ex-Marine challenged.

"So you'll just tell me to bugger off?" the pilot teased, "If you ever happen to ditch in the drink and I come to save you?"

Mack shuddered inwardly, thinking back to a certain night in the Mexican Gulf. "I love tiltrotors." he said woodenly, "And anyone who flies them."

The pilot's face lit up with a big bright grin. "Now you're getting it."

Ducking her head to peer out the windscreen, the copilot, Aisha, pointed. "Look, Lady Rebekah. I can see home."

The little pilot sat bolt-upright in her seat, peering down her nose over the instrument panel. Checking the radar, she dropped the range, then fingered a pulsating amoeba. "Good pickup, Aisha, there's nothing wrong with your eyes. Mister Mack? It's top of descent. You might want to let Aisha sit down. It's her landing. Tell you what, if you're game, why don't you ride in the jump seat? Then you can see what a real aeroplane can do."

Turning out of his borrowed seat, Mack inadvertently looked straight down the front of the copilot's white shirt at a pair of down-hanging, smooth brown breasts in their dainty cradles of black lace. The Universe giveth, he thought, quickly averting his eyes. Waiting while she un-stowed the jumpseat, he strapped in, as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. "Mighty kind of you Captain Watson." he said, rubbing his hands. "Been ages since I saw a good crash. This is gonna be awesome."

"Spoken like a true Aerosexual." the pilot scoffed.

"Me?"

"I could pick it a mile away."

"Enthusiast, Captain Watson, I'm just an enthusiast. And please, just call me Travis."

"Pull the other one, Travis. And likewise, just call me Beck."

******************************************************************************************

Several ATVs were parked by the side of a freshly-slashed grass airstrip, their occupants milling around waiting to meet the inbound aircraft. A tall, good looking male and a shorter, even better-looking female, stood watching with their arms folded as the tiltrotor came to a hover fifty meters away and gently touched down. After a 2-minute cooldown, Aisha shut the engines down while Beck racked her seat back and stood, stretching her back. "Well, here we are," she proclaimed, "Hello Kitty Island." Opening the door, she dropped the airstairs and stood aside.

Steeling himself, Mack struggled out of his seat wondering how best to approach the pilot's fabled boss, a billionaire lawyer and friend of Harrison Carter. Feigned deference? Cool indifference? Bend a knee and kiss the ring? He'd met enough VVIPs over the past year to know he was little more than a object with no intrinsic value above and beyond the service he could provide. Setting foot on terra firma beside the diminutive driver, he spoke to Beck from the corner of his mouth. "So where is this Mister Bragg I've heard so much about?"

Beck gestured with her chin at the good looking male, dressed in work-worn cargo shorts and sweat-mottled T-shirt. "That's him there. The goofy looking one in his Sunday best."

Followed by the woman, the goofy-looking one ambled towards the aircraft. The unflattering clothes did nothing to hide a superb physique and there was no missing the manly bulge in the front of his shorts. Greying at the temples, his unruly hair stuck out at odd angles from under a sun-bleached baseball cap while three- or four-day's growth shaded his jaw. All in all the quintessence of rugged machismo Mack thought resentfully, real male model material, the sort used to advertise high-end watches or upmarket underwear. "The famous Travis Mack I presume?" Bragg beamed, reaching out with his left hand while Mack reached out with the right- this was no time to show any hint of disability. The stranger changed hands as Mack did the same and a voice piped up behind them. "Is this some sort of secret handshake boys?"

Turning, Mack clapped eyes on a stunning, 30-something woman, likewise casually clad, form-fitting denim shorts biting into her crotch, a midriff, sleeveless, sage-green tank top offering a peek of firm, tanned side-boob. When she whipped-off her bucket hat to make her introductions, her dark shoulder-length hair was only enhanced by a blaze of grey. Invisible behind her own mirrored eyewear, her eyes roamed the American appraising the real estate. "Mister Mack?"

"Yes ma'am."

The woman wrinkled her nose. "Ma'am? Do I look like a cop or something? Just call me Tanya, with an 'n' and a 'y' and an 'a'. Now. I'm gonna use my right hand. On the count of three. One... two..." She reached out and they shook, her grip firm but nothing over the top as Mack half-expected. This woman was a trophy wife, fair and square, but her face was open and her demeanour sincere.

"She's the boss." the male explained, offering his right hand. Like the woman, Tanya with an 'n' and a 'y' and an 'a', he shook with genuine affinity, actually taking it a little too gently as if shaking hands with a child. "The name's Roger. Roger Bragg. My wife here actually runs the joint but lets me think I do."

Tanya heaved a theatrical sigh. "Oh don't listen to him, he's just trying to get some attention."

"It's true." Beck the pilot cut in, satchel over her shoulder stuffed with nav gear- tablets, knee board, aircraft flight log. "She does."

"Oh don't you start. Or he'll be bleating about how hard bloody done-by he is. Here," she snapped her fingers, "where's my kiss?"

Whipping her cap off, Beck stepped up and planted a big, smacking kiss on the boss-lady's smiling lips, whereupon Tanya followed up with a kiss to the little blonde's forehead. Aisha the copilot joined the fray and Tanya opened her arms. "Aisha, Darling? Was that you landing just then?"

"Yes, Aunty Tanya." Aisha replied as Tanya swept her into a tight, breast-mashing embrace. "Was it good?"

"Well Roger ran for cover but I thought it was bloody fantastic."

"Ran for cover?"

Bragg gave the mystified pilot a pat on the shoulder. "Don't listen to her, Aisha. That was a lovely approach."

Mack looked around for the tepees and drum circles. These oddballs seemed so tight he wondered if he might have stumbled into a hippy commune. Nobody's fool the woman, Tanya, picked up his consternation. "Sorry, mate," she said, laying a hand on his arm, "you'll get used to us eventually. We're harmless, really."

"Unless you're a ruthless Chinese supertrawler billionaire." Beck said under her breath. "Then we're not so harmless. Especially Roger. Not even close."

"Oh," Bragg scoffed, "I wouldn't hurt a fly."

"No," Beck shook her head, "you pay other people to do that."

"Now don't go scaring the poor boy." Tanya chided. "Not until he drops his guard."

Another figure strolled into the shade under the wing, a stunning young female, brown-eyed, dark haired, with flawless olive skin. Their daughter Mack assumed since she looked so much like the woman- though the couple must have started early to have an offspring her age. Late teens or early twenties Mack guessed. Same casual rig- running shorts, pink singlet, a hint of nipple pigment visible through the weave, oversize baseball cap sitting over her perfect little ears. "Mister Mack?" she said a little breathlessly, reaching out.

"Please. Just call me Travis."

The girl gripped his hand, shaking like she meant to souvenir his arm. "Ally's told us sooooo much about you, how you went back and saved those troops. With murder bots on one side and the army on the other. And nearly got your arm shot off."

Tanya gently grabbed the girl's slender wrist. "Not too hard Darling, they only just sewed it back on."

"I'm Maya." the girl announced, inclining her head at the woman. "Aunty Tan's and Unky Roger's niece. I was just her for hols. I was meant to go back but when I heard you were coming I thought I might as well just stick around. After everything Ally told us I really wanted to meet you."

Mack's gaze strayed to her shallow, ribbed cleavage and the bounce and jiggle of her unrestrained breasts. A-cups- as a recent convert to the compact-model now his favourite. "Maya's just come home from Africa," Tanya said with obvious pride, "haven't you, Darling? She's a doctor."

"YOU?" Mack exclaimed.

Maya planted her fists on her hips. "Why not?"

Mack raised his hands. "No no no, I didn't mean it like that. What I mean is, shouldn't you be a supermodel or something?"

Maya's cheeks pinked. "Oh, shoosh Mister Mack, you-"

"Travis. Just call me Travis."

"Shoosh Travis," Maya beamed, picturing the man's flared glans mushing her labia apart, "you'll give me a big head. Anyways, I'm not quite a doctor just yet."

"She went to Africa on placement. To a rural hospital."

The girl's expression darkened. "Not an experience I'd recommend. They don't call it the Dark Continent for nothing."

"Well you're home now." Bragg said, hugging her shoulders. "And think of all that hands-on experience."

"Not to mention hands-off." Maya muttered. "At the wrists mostly, unless they gave you short sleeves."

A psychic chill passed like a cloud-shadow over the gathering. Beck, who'd just returned from doing a ritual lap of the aircraft, stepped up behind Maya and wrapped her arms around the girl. "Paying your karmic dues as Damon would say." Pausing, she placed a big, wet kiss on Maya's ear. "You're home now Maggie. You have to put it behind you."

Mack sensed another presence and looked around to find ANOTHER young female standing slightly apart. Following his gaze, Tanya jerked her head. "Well come on, Comet. He won't bite."

A billionaire stud with his own tropical island? Of course he'd keep a harem. The girl closed the gap smiling self-consciously, head slightly bowed. Twenty something, short floral skirt and pink Hello Kitty T-shirt hugging the contours of her ample breasts. Tanned and fit, a farm-girl surely, from her freckled nose to her suntanned feet. Unhanding Maya, Beck slipped her arm around the taller girl's waist, the pair on intimate terms, obviously, like everyone else in the little community. "Comet's our resident historian, aren't you Sweets?"

The girl known as Comet extended her hand. "Hayley." she said demurely as they shook. "I'm actually a stray. I got picked up by cyclone Beck-and-Tanya one night and when I woke up-"

"She was in paradise." Tanya wrinkled her nose.

"Sure as hell wasn't Kansas. Or even Mackay. You were in the Marines weren't you?"

"Me?" Mack piped up, taken by surprise, busy wondering, had he the chance, which one he'd do first. The tiny blonde tomboy-pilot with a body he could pick up with his one good arm and use as a hand job? Or her willowy copilot, dark hair, big eyes, tits the colour and texture of caramel? Or the woman, his host, lithe and tanned and quite frankly built for sex? Or the soon-to-be doctor, a smaller, slimmer, younger version of her aunt? Or this little honey-body, presently inspecting him from head to toe? "That's right." he nodded.

"Chopper pilot in the corps?"

"Errr... yeah."

"Comet's gonna be a detective when she grows up." Tanya grinned.

"Why grow up when I can just hang out with you guys? What sort of choppers?"

"What models?" Mack asked in reply. "Errr... ever heard of the Whiskey-model Cobra?"

"Is that like a fighter?"

"Sorta. Though we call 'em gunships. Two crew and enough firepower to level a city block in the right hands."

"Did you ever shoot anyone?"

"Only one I personally knew. Then I went on to the Yankee model Huey. Hash and trash mostly, and medevac."

"In the middle east?"

Mack nodded. "Afghanistan."

"Must have been scary."

Mack tried to summon the memory of Luke but to his surprise his buddy wasn't having a bar of it. Because here was Mack surrounded by more free-range pussy than he could poke an erection at, while his host, the billionaire lawyer, stood smiling indulgently. "Anyone who wasn't scared was an idiot." Mack said reasonably. "Or a senior officer, which is pretty much the same thing."

Hayley hooked her hair behind a little pink ear. "So now you're flying for Mister Bragg's friend?"

Tanya leant in, feeling Hayley over. "Is there an 'off' switch on this thing?"

"What?" Hayley blinked, cheeks pinking under the tan. "Oh, I'm so sorry. It's such a bad habit and I've been trying hard to change. It's just that... I find peoples' lives just so... you know...?"

"No, no, no," Mack raised his hand, "no, that's cool, I've got nothin' to hide. Yes, I do fly for Harrison Carter, after he kindly picked me up off the scrap heap."

"Why would anyone scrap someone like you?" Hayley asked with child-like candour. "From what I've heard you're amazing."

It was Mack's turn to blush. "Wait till you get to know me. You'll soon change your tune."

"I'd like that." Hayley said. "Getting to know you I mean."

'Aaaand' Mack thought, 'we have a winner.'

Heads turned at the sound of pounding hoofbeats. "Oh ohhh..." Tanya intoned, "here comes the golden horde."

"Golden what?" Mack squinted.

"Mongolian invasion." Tanya replied as three horses appeared over the rise, spurred on by their diminutive riders. In bikinis. "DAMN YOU MONGORIANS!" Tanya shook her fist and Mack's heart hit the soles of his loafers. Impossible as it seemed, like Santa Clause at the gates of hell welcoming sinners as they arrived, the three twins pounded down the airstrip, hooves, hair and tails flying, before dragging their mounts to a back-pedalling, chest-heaving, muzzled-foaming halt. Gasping fit to bust, the horses tottered to and fro while the girls looked down with wall-to-wall grins. "POOL MAN!" they cried in unison.

"How the fff..." Mack began, staring wide-eyed at the apparition. "Girls? How the fff... flip did you wind up here?"

One twin hefted a shoulder. "We flew." she said, as if it should have been obvious.

"How?" Mack squinted, "Did they fit long-range jugs to your broomsticks or something?"

The girl frowned at her sister, mouthing, 'Long-range what?'

"He's just trying to be funny. He means broomsticks. As if we're witches."

"I thought we were."

"Well, yes, we are, but in this case we flew in a Global 8000. With Captain Ally-cat and Captain Aisha."

Aisha dipped her head. And what an adventure that had been, crossing the North Pole low-level in perpetual twilight, radar off, no transponder, all cloak and dagger stuff.

"Anyway, Pool Man, do you like our horses? I named mine Travis, 'cos he has a great... big..."

"Heart." the other cut in, promptly outing herself as Viviani.

"And see the saddles?" Nyamjargal added breathlessly. "They're real Mongolian ones. Miss Ally flew to Ulaanbaatar especially. You should see us! We ride like the wind!"

"Girls?" Tanya said crossly. "Where are your helmets?"

"But we're meant to be Mongolian warriors, Aunt Tanya."

"Mongolian warriors actually wore helmets." Bragg pointed out.

"You come off and we'll have to scoop your brains up with a teaspoon." Tanya glared. "What would your mum say?"

One twin shrugged. "If I know Mom. She'd say, 'You ain't been using 'em so you won't be needing 'em.'"

"Uh huh," Viviani nodded, "and she'd say, 'If you break both your legs don't come running to me for help."

Leaning towards each other, the twins bumped fists and Tanya let out a frustrated sigh. Following in her sister's footsteps, her own unruly childhood had always been source of great pride, but these teen tearaways had taken delinquency to a whole new level. "Seriously, girls, she's trusting me to look after you."

"Honest, Aunt Tanya," Nyamjargal said, reaching back to unclip a safety helmet from the back of her saddle. "We just took them off over there, just for the big reveal."

"Well if you could just put them back on. Please. And try not to die until she gets here."

"Before who gets here?" Mack asked, watching the girls dismount, throwing their legs over to give the crowd a magnificent view of their bikini-clad undercarriage.

"Wendy Stamp." Bragg replied.

"Ski..." Mack began then caught himself. "My co-joe?" He hadn't seen hide nor hair of her since the night he was woken in the wee small hours by a black-clad operator and spirited away. Straight to a rig tender, while workers scurried here and there ransacking the summer house and salvaging its treasures. Wendy and her cat had already been taken, so had the girls, though his escort couldn't or wouldn't say where. Then he, Mack, hop-scotched from safe-house to hideout, Veracruz, Acapulco, California, Seattle, before boarding Carter's personal Boeing 787 as its sole passenger, to be whisked off to Queensland, Australia.

Bragg nodded. "She should be here in week or so or so we've been told."

"Where has she been?"

Bragg shrugged. "I think that's on a need-to-know basis and apparently none of us need to know. Loose lips sink ships and all that. But one thing I CAN say is she'll be happy to see you."

This dream just kept getting better and better, Mack thought. Because the whole goddam thing seemed just too good to be true. Then he remembered. This was the realm of the ultra-rich and nothing, and no one, was beyond their means.

While Mack was busy chewing over this news, Viviani and Echo jumped to his side throwing their arms around him and hugging the startled Marine to their heaving chests. "Oh, Pool Man," they chorused, "we've missed you so much!"

"It's been WEEKS!" Echo said and her sister looked up.

"Did you miss us?"

"Why?" Mack teased, "Where have you been?"

Echo stuck her bottom lip out, "Meanie."

"Of course I missed you, idiot." Mack said knuckling her scalp. Not to mention the several rounds of top-shelf sex she and her sister demanded every day- Viviani, Echo, plus their older little sister, Jagwar. A rolling three course carnal feast fit for a king.

Viviani looked over her shoulder. "Well come on, Jarga, give him a hug."

A hug was the last thing the little Mongolian wanted. Unless he was on top of her at the time, balls-deep inside her ravenous little pussy. Still, she figured, it would do for starters. Joining the clinch, squeezing in between Viviani and Echo, she tilted her head, eyes closed, lips puckered, while the others looked away, Bragg, who'd been coveting his 3 young female guests since the day they'd arrived, secretly cursing the good-looking Marine for his incredible luck. Not that he, Bragg, could complain. Not just his gorgeous wife, but another three willing young women had been bouncing in and out of his bed the past few weeks, Beck, Aisha, Hayley-known-as -Comet, in various combinations- singly, threesomes, and a no-holds-barred reverse-gangbang, 5 v 1, wife included, where Aisha discovered the delights of the double-dildo.

Arms around the girls, Mack struggled to quell the riot in his pants. No shrinking violet before they installed the new arm, ever since Zurich that damned fifth appendage had been like a bear with a sore head, so easily provoked he sometimes wondered if he shouldn't take it to anger management. Now here he was with two hard-bodied teens and a pint-size princess, all hot and sweaty in their tiny bikinis, wafting a melange of horse-hair and pussy, grinding their mounds into his thighs. "Mom's gonna be here soon." Viviani cooed, safe in his embrace. "We'll be a family again."

"And guess who else is coming?" Echo asked and Mack almost swooned. She'd just said, 'coming'.

"Oh, shoosh, Coco, you spoiler. You know what they say? Snitches are bitches?"

"Actually," Mack said helpfully, "I think the saying is 'snitches get stitches'."

"See!" Viviani sneered.

"Well I wasn't gonna say who, you goddam face-ache."

"Then why say anything, you effing tease?"

"Girls." Mack sighed.

"She just can't keep her mouth shut."

"Girls. Please. It's been a long few days. Vivi, I'm not even gonna ask who's coming."

"So you don't wanna know?"

"Of course I do. But if it's gonna stop you two arguing."

"They're probably just hangry." Tanya said.

Mack inclined his head like a dog at a lecture on the theory of relativity. "Hangry?"

"Hungry-angry." Beck explained. "Damon reckons it's a survival mechanism. He said, back in the caveman days when he was a boy, they'd eventually get so hungry they'd go out and kill something. Sabre tooth, mammoth, velociraptor, you name it. It was like, 'stuff the danger, we gotta eat.'"

"Damon?" Mack asked and the Braggs exchanged a glance with Beck.

"My partner." Beck said and Mack's hopes hit the deck at his feet.

"You'll get to meet him soon." Tanya beamed, rubbing her hands, thinking, 'Now that should blow your cotton-picking little mind.' "In the meantime, let's get our little Mongorian warriors home and feed 'em some lunch."

"Race you!" Viviani said, leg up, knee to her chest, slipping her bare foot into the stirrup. Her bay horse reared at the very suggestion, turning on the spot looking for PETA.

Beside her mount, Echo looked for the nearest able body, Bragg as it turned out. "Quick! Mister Bragg! Give me a boost!"

"Please!" Viviani admonished, standing in the stirrups, legs splayed, swaying side-to-side seating the saddle.

"PLEASE Mister Bragg give me a boost."

Cupping her foot in his hands, Bragg hoisted the girl's feather-light frame onto the chestnut stallion, almost pitching her clear over the top, her firm butt brushing his jaw on the way. Nyamjargal looked pleadingly at Bragg and he repeated the performance, elevating her effortlessly onto her little grey mare, inhaling her perfume on the way- honeysuckle, horse sweat and the evocative scent of aroused young pussy. A few snippets let slip by the girls had led him to suspect their pal, the Marine, was more than just a baby-sitter. Now he'd actually seen them together he was willing to stake his wife on it.

"Girls!" Tanya called sternly, "Helmets!"

"We wiiiill." the 3 chorused, dutifully slipping-on the headwear.

"Ready?" Viviani said, her horse already prancing in anticipation. "Okay, ready... set..."

"GO!" Echo yelled, spurring her mount with her bare heels. By the time they disappeared the lead had changed several times, Nyamjargal, the smallest and lightest, finally pulling ahead.

Tanya shook her head. "And I thought we were loose units."

"Gorgeous, aren't they?" Beck breathed and Hayley gave a nod.

"Good enough to eat."

"You know, between the three of them," Mack said, "they're worth a couple of trillion bucks?"

"Oh," Tanya scoffed, "don't be silly."

"Excuse me?" Mack grimaced. "I'm serious. Jagwa's dad is a Leviathan. A trillionaire."

"Piffle! That sweet little thing is worth much more than that. And so are the twins. They're literally priceless. Invaluable. Same as Beck. Same as Maggie."

Hayley raised a hand. "Same as me?"

"Of course, Darling. Why would you be any different?"

"But I mean it. Literally." Mack pressed, having thought the revelation so astonishing.

"So do I, Captain Mack." Tanya said levelly, "So do I."

"Well," Bragg cut in, sensing a rift, one individual's idea of worth versus another's, "Travis, if you'd like to grab your goods and chattels it's time to put this baby to bed."

"I'll do it." Aisha said, ducking into the tiltrotor to retrieve Mack's meagre belongings- a hastily stuffed duffle bag, helmet bag, backpack full of odds and ends.

"Just toss it in the ATV, Aisha." Bragg said. "Now, if you'll all step back."

"You're gonna love this." Tanya said, taking Mack's elbow.

Retreating to the ATVs parked beside the grass runway, they turned to watch the tiltrotor shudder and slowly submerge. "Daaa ffff...?" Mack breathed as the aircraft disappeared, sinking out of sight.

"They must have got the idea from Thunderbirds." Bragg proudly explained.

"Excuse me?"

"Thunderbirds. TV show I used to watch as a kid. The Chinese installed it."

"What for?" Mack frowned.

"You'll have to ask them. Now, who wants a ride?"

"I'm gonna walk thanks Rodge." Beck said.

"Me too." Hayley announced. "In case the drop-bears get her."

"The what now?" Mack squinted.

Hayley and Beck said, "You'll see." The island of Saint Bees and its famous killer koalas lay a scant 40 nautical miles away. Their new American guest would have to be initiated by and by.

Tanya patted the seat beside her. "Travis? Wanna ride up front?"

Mack looked around. "Okay if I walk, Ma'am? I've been pretty-well cooped up the last few weeks. If it's okay with you, Cap?"

Beck and Hayley traded some mental telepathy. The whole point of walking was to talk ABOUT him, not TO him, but he seemed so earnest, like a kid wanting to hang-out with the grownups.

"Why not?" Beck shrugged. "You couldn't pick a better day for it."

Maya, in the pilot's seat of a second ATV wrung the wheel, badly wanting to join in, at the same time knowing in her heart 3 was company, 4 not so much.

"We saw Mister Brown on the path," Tanya said, "so watch your step and don't go scaring him."

"Mister Brown?" Mack asked.

"Brown snake." Beck blithely replied. "Pseudonaja textilis."

"But it's harmless, right?"

'Sure. As long as you don't upset him."

Mack's eyes grew wider and wider. As a proud American, his vision of Australia revolved around snakes and spiders, and sharks and stingers and crocodiles. "I mean is it poisonous?"

"Venomous, Travis." Beck said dryly. "Poisonous relates to something you eat. And yes. He is venomous. Very in fact. In fact the second most venomous land snake on Earth."

"Only if he bites you." Tanya pointed out. "And if he does that's your own stupid fault."

"And brown snakes are soooo pretty." Hayley breathed, having herself only just become a recent convert. Where she came from, the only good snake was a dead snake and wilderness only existed to be dug up.

"Why don't you kill it?" Mack asked, as a prelude to offering to do it for them. Clearly the pretty-boy billionaire wasn't up to it.

Several female voices scolded, "TRAVIS!" while Bragg shook his head, lips compressed. Beck turned on him. "Captain Mack. This is Australia. We revere our wildlife here, reptiles included. Anyone who doesn't is called a 'bogan'."

"Oooo..." Tanya shivered, "that's one shit label I wouldn't want."

"Sorry!" Mack said, "Sorry. I forgot. This IS Australia, where every second creature wants to kill you."

"Pffft!" Beck blew a raspberry. "If you knew the damage humans have done."

"You probably don't want to get her started." Bragg warned.

"Don't say it isn't true!" Beck glared.

"Wouldn't dream of it. Now, let's get back and get lunch started. Hungry Travis?"

Mack rubbed his belly. "To be honest, Sir. I could eat a horse."

"The grey, the bay or the chestnut?"

Those same female voices admonished, "ROGER!" as Bragg sat grinning from ear to ear.

The ATVs peeled away one by one and set off down the brick-paved path, reminiscent of Requiem Island. Mack shook off a sudden wave of nostalgia- long lazy day sunning himself by the pool, frequent bouts of A-grade sex. "Is that true?" he asked, hands in his pockets as Beck shouldered her satchel. "About that snake?"

Beck looked at Mack from the corner of her eye. "You still banging on about poor old Mister Brown? You could have hitched a ride, you know."

"And sat on the roof." Hayley added helpfully. "He's a couple of meters long you know. Brown snakes like to jump into cars."

"Saves wear and tear on their belly scales." Beck nodded, running with it.

Mack knew from experience, namely Wendy, Australians could lure their victims with unparalleled credulity down the winding path deep into bullshit garden. "Still reckon it's crazy. Not killing the thing."

Beck heaved an irritated sigh. "It takes a lot of metabolic energy to make venom you know. He doesn't want to waste it on something he can't swallow."

"It's interesting." Hayley mused, "Here's a big, tough bloke who used to fly around with bombs and rockets zinging through the air, and he's scared of some innocent little snake."

"I'm NOT scared," Mack protested, "I just don't want to get bit."

Beck gave Hayley the eye, both imagining the first aid they would gladly render should the big American be bitten on the dick, "That's okay, if you do get bitten we can suck the venom out."

They walked in pensive silence for a while under the dappled shade of lush tropical growth, Mack bracketed between 2 young females, both in their 20s and their absolute prime. Beck, to his right, barely reached his shoulder while Hayley, to his left, came up to his chin. The mid-morning sun blazed down from a sky of purest cobalt, the sapphire waters of the coral sea beyond glittering as if strewn with chips of diamond. Beck slung the satchel from one shoulder to the other and Mack reached out. "Here. Why don't you let me take that? I could use the exercise."

Beck looked at him thinking she'd rather have her teeth drilled than let some condescending male take her for a wimp. Still, the poor guy was just such a babe in the Australian woods, and so guileless, perhaps he deserved the honour. Besides, according to several breathless accounts, courtesy the twins, the man was a bona fide albeit accidental hero. Shrugging the satchel off she passed over. "Ta, mate."

'Ta mate'? Mack felt a stab of longing for a different platinum-blonde Aussie. "So, how long you been flying?" he asked.

"Me?" Beck replied. "Coming up to 4 years now."

"God damn, girl," Mack exclaimed, "and now you're flying that work of the devil? You haven't been wasting your time."

"Actually she's just my weekend ride. I mostly drive the boss's Global.

Mack let out a low whistle. "Must have started fresh out of school, am I right?"

Beck screwed her face up. "Mmm... yeaaahh... nahh. About that. I didn't really go to school."

"Say again?"

"I didn't Go to school. Hardly ever at least. I was a street rat."

"A what?" Mack grimaced.

"Street rat. A scumbag. A filthy, dirty, shoplifting little lowie. Until a certain man sailed into my life and changed it forever."

"Your partner?" Mack asked, downhearted, though not surprised, at the idea she might be spoken for.

"Mmm hmm..."

"He's a sailor?"

"Sailor," Hayley piped up, "writer, teacher, guide. For all intents and purposes a spiritual master."

"Sounds like quite a guy." Mack said thinking nothing of the sort.

"Oh he is!" Hayley nodded avidly, as she well knew. Within hours of setting foot on his yacht, all her age-related prejudices flew out the porthole as he fucked her brains out with Beck cheering them on. "Trust me."

"Where is he now, may I ask?"

Beck leant forward to catch Hayley's eye. "On the way in our new boat."

"New boat?"

"Forty-five foot Beneteau, the SV 'Expendable'."

"Right." Mack said.

"Try and picture him." Hayley suggested. "Tanned, fit, ruggedly handsome. A bit weather-beaten round the edges but strong as an ox and cool as a cucumber. Then hold onto that image till you meet him."

Mack duly formed an image in his head of a craggy 30-something seafarer, perched on the bow of his sailboat, hand shading his eyes as he peered intently into infinity. "So now you live here?"

More thought-waves sizzled between Beck and Hayley. "We-ell," Beck hedged, "yes and no. I still call Aurora home, though she's up on the hard right now having her bottom scraped."

"I guess you mean your yacht?"

"She's gorgeous." Hayley cut in, "Beck taught me to sail her."

"But right now she's up on land?"

"Having her bottom scraped." Beck confirmed.

"You haven't lived till you've had your bottom scraped." Hayley proclaimed.

"So, yeah," Beck nodded, "right now Hello Kitty Island's home."

Mack swept his outstretched arm across the vista. "And Mister Bragg owns this place? Like, all of it?"

"Can I tell him the story, Becks?" Hayley asked. "It's sooo amazing."

Beck shrugged. Not only was the girl's curiosity insatiable, her recall was almost eidetic. "I think it's your job."

Hayley took a breath. "Well... the old resort was flattened by a cyclone. Some Chinese crime boss bought it for a song from the corrupt state government, intending to turn it into something like a mini-Macau, sky-scrapers and casinos, the usual obscenity. So Roger put an indigenous land-claim on the place."

"He's indigenous?" Mack frowned. "Not that I mind."

"We all are." Beck rolled her eyes. "Indigenous to Earth. Go on Comet."

"Well that's the thing. It's illegal to question anyone's identity. And Roger won. He got Lindeman Island, lock stock and first-stage development, including the resort down on the beach and all the secret stuff the Chinese had built. Cos', you see, the Chinese government was actually behind the whole thing, trying to get a toehold in Australia. Anyway, some other 'first nations'," she made air commas, "got wind and challenged Roger's claim, that he was indigenous and that, figuring they could have the place for themselves. Then sell it BACK to the Chinese who were actually secretly bankrolling them. What they didn't know was they were about to drag an internationally feared courtroom brawler into battle."

"Mister Bragg?"

The girls nodded. "Him and his PA, Victoria." Hayley confirmed. "You might get to meet her one day. The other side's Barrister, a suicide redhead, marched up to Roger on the first day to offer her hand. And she said, 'May the best man win.', which Roger thought was pretty decent, until she went on, 'Which won't be you'."

Beck strolled along sporting a wall-to-wall grin at the memory. She'd sat-in on some of the battles just to witness the fireworks.

"Roger wiped the floor with them. Exposed some of the claimants' connections, not just to the Chinese, but organised crime and complicit government ministers. A few wound up going to jail and a minister or 2 had to resign. That put the wind up the rest and they withdrew, so Roger circled round and sued them for a few hundred mil."

"He actually made a profit in the end." Beck said, "As well as keeping the place."

"And here we are." Maya nodded. "Hello Kitty Island."

"Is that what he named it?"

Beck and Hayley rolled their eyes. "Duhhh... that's what WE named it. He named it 'Reunion' cos' here we are all together again, but we think the name sucks so Hello Kitty it is."

The path opened up onto a wide, paved terrace, with 3 tiers of luxury holiday apartments built into the flank of a hill. To the right, down by the shore, a mock Polynesian long-house the size of an airplane hangar housed a restaurant and bars, mostly closed-down, an empty reception lobby, office space, gym and outside, undercover settings. Beside it, faux-native outbuildings of various former utility, a gorgeous, fifty-meter seawater pool, thatched bars, shower and change-rooms, all the bare essentials required to service a filthy-rich clientele. The sigh of the breeze through palms and crunch of surf aside, the place was utterly silent and Mack had the sense they were haunting the joint.

Beck pointed at a white hull in the distance, propped up high-and-dry on a concrete landing against a backdrop of emerald rainforest. "There's my baby, Aurora. I'll show you over her later."

Hayley stood looking at Beck from the corner of her eye, with a fair idea of what else Beck was hoping to show him.

"I'd like that." Mack nodded, turning on the spot. "Where is everyone?"

"We-elll," Beck replied, "they're probably inside making lunch. Your unit's up there, up those stairs. Unit 13. I hope you're not superstitious."

"Well, yes, I am, but not about the number 13."

"Cool." Beck nodded. "Your... the twins are next door... apartment 12. There's a door between the two apartments." The suggestive edge was hardly lost on Mack and Hayley all but smacked her chops. Thinking 'oh to be a fly on the wall when THAT door opened'.

"We're all on the same level." Hayley added a might hopefully. Who knew? Once he'd worn those little glamour-pusses out.

"So, what's the plan?" Mack asked.

Beck reached out and relieved Mack of her satchel. "I'm gonna drop my stuff in the ops room." she said, "then go and get changed. Your gear's in your apartment so you might wanna go and get changed- island rig, shorts, T, flipflops or bare feet, or just turn up starkers, no one cares. Lunch is in the longhouse. See you in... sayyy... fifteen?"

"Mess in fifteen." Mack said with a thumbs-up. "Unit 13."

Beck wagged a finger. "You're not on a Mission, Mister Mack. Sheesh. Try to relax. You're all wound up like a two-bob watch."

"Right. No idea what that is but I'll try not to be one. Thanks for the talk, and thanks for the walk. Glad we all made it alive."

As he turned and set off up the stairs at a jog, Hayley sidled into Beck. "I'm going in, Beck. Cover me."

"But I saw him first."

"Scissor paper rock?"

"Nuh uh. Finder's keeper's."

"Oh well, I guess we'll have to do the old tag-team."

Fists clenched, the girls raised their thumbs and pressed them together. "Think he'll be in it?" Hayley asked wistfully.

Beck shrugged. "If what the twins say is true? One hundred percent."

******************************************************************************************

It was fun pretending to be on holiday for a while. Bragg proudly toured Mack around his island redoubt, first via a subterranean passage to the big, brightly-lit underground hangar where the tiltrotor had lived, sharing the space with a high-performance, single-seat, aerobatic racer- Ally's. And then the piece-de resistance. A breathtaking moon-pool under the island, 100 yards long by fifty wide, beneath a lofty domed roof, joined to the sea outside by a yawning coral-studded concrete swim-though. For those guests and visitors, like Harrison Carter, who preferred their travel sub-marine.

As well as the manicured grass airstrip, the island also featured miles of running track, mostly unpaved, where Mack slogged out his daily devotion, joined sometimes by Beck and Maya, or Hayley on her mountain bike, swooped now and then by those damned Mongorians in their bikinis, riding boots and pink Hello Kitty safety helmets. But there was an underlying tension to the idyllic hiatus, an energy that crackled like the storms that gathered most afternoons. Shit was happening out there, back in the world, and though he ached to know what, Mack chose to dwell for the moment in not-so-blissful ignorance, rather than wallow a state of impotent rancour at what should be, but could not be done.

For Mack, the evenings provided a glimpse into the microcosm in which these fascinating creatures dwelt. Bragg, after a few wines, often pressed by the twins, wove fascinating tales not of Machiavellian legal combat nor corporate machinations, but of stalking supertrawlers, playing cat and mouse with Asian crime-lords. Of East European traffickers trading children and ivory, and government officials running side hustles poaching everything from rhino horn to hardwood. He spoke of rivers polluted, communities poisoned, entire countries laid waste for what lay underground. Much of the evil aided and abetted by high flying lawyers who raked in billions for their role in trashing the planet.

Bragg's hair-raising stories aside, most of the dinner-time banter was light hearted, and Mack marvelled at the easy, overt sexuality on daily display. The females turned up in sarongs and bikini tops, or shorts and singlets, or slips so sheer they were for all intents transparent, revealing not so much as a stitch underneath. Bragg often went bare-chested, or sometimes straight from the pool with a towel around his waist. Beck, the little blonde pilot, arrived one evening in a dazzling golden cape, hood shucked back, shoulders inlaid with what looked like diamonds. And tiny white briefs underneath the size of a postage stamp, slung low across the swell of her mound, those and no more. Even the shy Middle Eastern girl, Aisha, joined in the spirit, in Ts and bikini bottoms, or grey, skin tight yoga shorts showing her intimate contours to stunning effect.

While he might have been able to account for his own girls' activities- when they weren't riding their horses they were riding him, keeping each other occupied with a double-ended dildo while the incumbent fucked him to orgasm- usually hers- the recipient of his own climax always hotly contested. But as for the others, Bragg, his wife, Beck and Maya, the historian Hayley and Aisha the one-time jailer, it didn't take a body-language guru to peg the sexual overtones. Rather than try to guess who was fucking whom, Mack fell back on the energy-saving conclusion they were all simply fucking each other. For this, after all, was how it worked in the world of rampant, unbridled, shameless self-indulgence. If sex was endlessly coveted in the lower dimensions, and by that fact used to sell everything from cars to wars, then those in the higher realm were almost duty-bound to gorge themselves with gay abandon. Actual gay abandon in the case of the women- for not even Bragg, with his big, fat portfolio, had the stamina to satisfy them all.

Just looking at the twins, and their little sister Nyamjargal, Mack was often tempted to pinch himself. Time and again it occurred to him he'd won what amounted to a perpetual lottery, all for the low, low price of a jolly to a burning rig. And a night time ditching. And an epic jaunt to the Mayan underworld.

A few days in and another oddity struck him like a bolt from the blue. He'd not so much as glimpsed any of the island's residents sitting head bowed in thrall to a device. Given her status as ruling matriarch, he cornered Tanya to ask, "Ma'am? Where are all the cell phones?"

"You mean mobiles? You want to call someone?"

"No no. What I mean is, I haven't seen anyone using them."

"For what, Travis? What are you driving at?"

"Well... where I come from they're sort of..."

"Ubiquitous?"

"What does that mean?"

"Everywhere?"

"Then that, yes."

"And what do people do with them?"

About to say, 'Jack Shit', Mack shrugged. "Can't really say, Ma'am, I was never that much in to it."

"Please call me Tanya, there's a dear. And the answer to the question is 'Jack Shit'."

"Excuse me?"

"According to the company genius-"

Mack's hopes perked up. "Claire?"

"Who? No, OUR genius, Kevin. According to him, cell phones are being used to farm human beings. By syphoning the creative energy out of billions of people. Rendering their lives soooo bloody meaningless they have to purchase meaning from someone else. Poor Kev's still kicking himself he didn't think of it first. Don't forget who the first trillionaire was."

"I don't even know. In fact to tell the truth I never even knew they existed."

"Of course not, you're not in the loop. But I'll give you a hint. He made his fortune out of a 'social media' platform. You know the most telling thing?"

Mack shook his head.

"The creator of this hideous monster won't let his own children use the product. Have you seen your... have you ever seen the twins... head and shoulders in some device?"

Mack shook his head again. "They're too busy getting into trouble."

"Being creative. Exactly. No idea what might have happened to your own phone... it would have been so hot it's probably been quarantined, but if you need one let me know. But let me tell you, you ever sit down at the dinner table, head down, swiping and tapping, and that little sisterhood will feel so outraged even I won't be able to save you."

"No chance of that." Mack grinned, realising he'd just found Principal Sally's Aussie Doppelganger. A little taller, a little more generously endowed, but a force of nature, not to be fucked with. Although, now he thought of it.

"So we cool, Travis?"

"Cool as a cucumber, Ma... Tanya."

"Cool as liquid nitrogen as Damon would say."

"That guy again, huh? Can't wait to meet him."

"Won't be long." Tanya said, thinking, 'And aren't you in for a little surprise?'

*****************************************************************************************

At the end of a morning run, after five fast kays of shying at sticks and roots and rocks on the ground, Mack jogged to a stop on the pool-terrace. Helping himself to a towel from the hamper, he lowered himself onto a sun-lounge, chest heaving, heartbeat pounding in his ears. As he dried off movement caught his eye and he craned his neck to see a slender shape rippling through the water hugging the pool's blue-tiled, black-lined bottom. The blonde, Mack surmised, watching till she reached the far-end, thirty meters away, ready to wave good morning when she popped up for breath. Instead, she reversed course, tanned body gliding effortlessly through the water with slow kicks and rhythmic sweeps of her arms.

On his feet, Mack moved to the pool's edge at the shallow end waiting to greet her. She'd done 50 meters underwater at least he mused, the girl had to be part fish. Certain she would surface, Mack propped his hands on his knees, leaning over the side, ready with compliments for the awesome display. Once again however she turned, rolling onto her back to look straight up at him, pushing off and leaving him slack-jawed in wonder.

"How many's that?" a voice said and Mack jumped. Looking around, still doubled over, he watched Hayley stroll up, towel draped over her shoulders, resplendent in a teeny-weeny bikini, her tanned, freckled skin beaded with droplets.

"I've lost count."

"Amazing isn't she? Just ask Aunty Tan. When they first met out on the reef... Roger and Tan, Beck and Damon... she thought she'd met a real-life mermaid."

"So that's where they met?"

Hayley nodded. "Sailing. Uh huh."

"Fancy that. I figured she was just a company driver."

Hayley's face lit up with a big, sunny smile under the shade of her baseball cap. "Oh, man. If you only knew. Beck and Damon saved them. Their yacht was broken down and Damon rebuilt the engine. And it just so happened to be Roger's birthday and there they were, out there all alone and, well, one thing led to another."

There was no mistaking the innuendo and Mack felt a stirring in his running shorts. Stood to reason he thought; if Beck's partner was the stud he imagined, and the Braggs so... ahem... outgoing. "So he's a mechanic, this dude?"

"Damon? No. Like I said, he's a writer. And a sailor. And a philosopher and a great sage. Ask him and he'll tell you it was a pretty simple fix... the engine I mean... but that meeting changed their lives forever."

"Mr. and Mrs. Braggs?"

"And Damon's. And Beck's. They put Beck through flying school you know."

"For fixing their engine?"

"Trust me, that was the least of it. Hang on, here she comes again."

Both leaning as far as they dared over the water, they watched Beck turn again, pause to hold up one finger, then set off on another 50-meter traverse.

"Does she do this often?"

"Aaaalll the time. You should go sailing with her one day. She could take you out to the reef, free-diving round the coral. I've been out with them heaps of times. Got to the point where I could stay under a couple of minutes. But Beck, she's amazing. She calls it her meditation."

"You know, I'd like that. Sailing. If I ever work out what I'm actually meant to be doing here. And as long as her partner didn't mind."

"Why should he?"

Because he couldn't so much look at the girl without the blood stampeding to his groin. "No reason."

"Fresh lobster, green fish curry, French Champagne. Do you ever smoke weed?"

"Well, no, I'm not really meant to."

"No worse than alcohol. In fact in lots of cases its much less harmful. You should try it. Just give it a few days to clear your system before you have to go back to work. Mmmm..." Hayley said dreamily, "... French Champagne and a little racehorse at sunset." Followed by the nightly entertainment, Damon's big cock and Beck's tight little pussy, cowgirl, missionary, fingers, tongues and dildos. "Lookout, here she comes."

Reaching the end Beck shot up, water cascading over her shoulders and running out her nose. Spun-gold hair plastered wetly to her scalp, she swabbed her face, and Mack spied a hint of pink nipple under the one-size-too-big bikini top. "Whoosh!" she exclaimed, chest heaving, ribs rising and falling under her goosebumped skin, "I must be losing my touch."

"How many?" Hayley asked.

"Wasn't counting. But it couldn't have been more than three or four minutes."

"Rubbish." Hayley grinned, "Travis and me had a hot breakfast while we were waiting."

Beck reached out to her. "Give a digger a hand would ya?"

Taking Beck's hand in both of hers, Hayley leant back and up she came, the mermaid, sloughing water like a second skin. Mack's eyes lit on the girl's erect nipples, presently trying to punch holes in the fabric of her blue-and-white striped top. "Here," Hayley said, "turn around."

Doing as she was told, Beck stood, tottering, while Hayley dried her off, back first, before reaching around to do her torso, including her little titties, all the way up to her chin. "Arms up."

Reaching for the sky, Beck looked at the wide-eyed American. "This is the only reason I do it. Just so she can dry me off."

Hayley dropped to a squat behind her, eye-level with the little blonde's butt, as Beck widened her stance. "And no farting." Hayley warned, starting at her ankle and drying all the way up to paradise between her legs. Beck mimicked a blast of wet flatulence and the girls fell about cackling. Finding her feet, Hayley gave Beck's hair a vigorous towelling then stepped back, leaving the girl with a tangled blonde mane. "I was just telling Travis he should go for a sail." Hayley said.

"Of course he should. EVERY-body should. Then the world would be a much better place."

"Do you go out often?" Mack asked, still partly dismayed by the blatant intimacy, one pretty young woman towelling another from top to toe.

"Often as I can." Beck shrugged. "I usually manage around 6 months a year. The Braggs are so bloody good to me you know. Usually works out... when the weather's too bad to sail it's usually great for flying, and I always do my sim-rides."

"You actually like flying in bad weather?"

"Who doesn't? Anyway, it's only bad here. What about the rest of the world?"

"Oh, right. Chopper pilot, you see. What you see is what you get."

Hayley flicked a glance at Beck. "Have you ever been on a yacht?" she asked.

Mack shook his head. "Can't say I have."

"Wanna look at hers? Beck? Would that be okay?"

Beck twigged. "Sure. Why not? She's up on the hard but we can still show you around. Unless you're busy?"

"Busy? No way. No, I'd love to check it out."

"Awesome." Beck said and Hayley tossed her towel onto the sun lounge. "This way."

As beck set off Mack stumbled after her, unable to wrench his gaze from her perfect round ass, each butt-cheek barely a palm-full. Broad, swimmer's shoulders, supple, muscular back. Venus dimples above the curve of her bottom. And those legs, slender, almost thin, but curvy and toned, with ankles he could easily circle with finger and thumb. Walking beside him, bemused by the tall American's obvious distraction, Hayley thought to herself, 'Just wait.'

Reaching the yacht, Beck scaled the ladder at its side, treating Mack to a view that would be seared forever into his memory in the Great File of Unforgettable Sights. Reaching the top, she turned and looked down. "Up you come."

"Oh, right."

"I'll follow you up." Hayley said. And make sure he couldn't escape.

"Here we are." Beck announced a little breathlessly, heart hammering, partly from exertion, for the greater part from anticipation. "SV Aurora. My baby."

Mack looked around the cockpit as Hayley topped the ladder. He saw side-seats below the cockpit mouldings. A central Fold-out wooden table, currently stowed. Mack pointed at the double helm, the wheels snug under their canvas covers. "Dual control, huh?"

Beck gave a nod. "Easier to steer from the high-side while she's heeling."

Mack imagined waves crashing over the deck. "Seems pretty exposed."

"Pardon? Oh, no, we usually have a dodger up front and a Bimini over the top, but we've put them in storage while she's up on the hard. Wanna look downstairs?"

"Sure," Mack nodded, genuinely intrigued, how anyone would subject themselves to this, floating around a big, unpredictable ocean in a fibreglass bathtub. For him, anything smaller than a flat-top was merely a lifeboat.

"It's easiest to go down the companionway facing out." Beck said. "Watch your head." So saying, she braced her arms on the hatchway and dropped out of sight, landing like a cat with a thud down below.

"Holy cow." Mack breathed, turning on the spot downstairs. His first impression was the smell, a mixture of salt water and diesel, and the unmistakable perfume of young female.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" Beck exclaimed proudly while Hayley stood behind their guest, almost touching.

"We've had soooo many incredible adventures on this thing." Hayley breathed.

"So what if you get caught in a storm?"

"Reef the sails and batten down the hatches." Beck shrugged.

"Does it ever get scary?"

Beck caught Hayley's eye and in unison they sang, "Aaaalll the time."

"Am I missing something?" Mack frowned.

Beck tucked her hair behind an ear. "A sense of adventure?"

"You call that adventure? Why not just stab yourself in the eye with a pencil?"

"You don't know what you're missing."

"I sure do. A big magenta blot on the weather radar."

"Those are fun." Hayley said.

Beck gave a grunt. "But not as much fun as what comes after."

"Namely?"

The girls swapped another knowing look. Namely French Champagne, weed and sex. "A sense of fulfilment." Beck replied. "Here, let me show you around. Right here we have the nav-station." Mack looked over a cramped little nook arrayed with radios, a chart-plotter, lap-top computer. And a switch panel to control the boat's life-supports, lighting and navigation, bilge-pumps and water-maker.

"Galley right here." Beck went on, gesturing at the gimballed four-burner stove, eutectic refrigerator, dual sinks, cupboards and drawers. "And here's the head." Beck said, continuing forward, opening a wooden-slatted door to reveal a combination bathroom, shower, basin, electric-toilet.

"How many POB can she carry?"

"We call 'em SOB." Beck replied, flicking back her still damp hair. "Souls On Board."

"So do we, actually," Mack said, "I just thought, you know, you being a pilot."

"I get ya. Usually it's only the 2 of us, Damon and me. But sometimes we have guests come out for a sail. Once it was 5." Beck said and commenced counting off on her fingers, "Me, Damon, Penny, Hayley and Maya."

Mack looked around. "Hell's bells. Where did you all sleep?"

"Anywhere we liked." Hayley said under her breath.

"Let me show you." Beck replied, taking Mack's hand and leading him aft, the touch of her skin like a jolt of electricity. Towing him past the galley, with Hayley bringing up the rear, Beck opened the door to her cabin, with its double bed, tiny desk and wardrobe. Shelves stacked with stuffed toys, posters on the wall, a Great White shark with its gaping, razor-toothed maw in pride of place.

"Oh the memories." Hayley whispered, breathing down Mack's neck. "If only you knew."

"Comet, Honey," Beck said, "wanna make up the settee?"

Hayley snapped her fingers. "Awesome idea."

"Travis?" Beck asked, parking her bottom on the mattress, "Do you know what it means? When the girl you're with sits on the bed?"

"Sh... sh... she's tired?" Mack stammered, looking around in desperation. Either his wildest dreams were about to come true, again, or he was about to step on a landmine.

"Do I look tired?" Beck asked dryly. "Or do I look like I'm giving you an invitation?"

"Miss... Beck... I don't know what to say."

"Think about it, Travis. We're all gonna die one day, right? Some of us inevitably sooner than others."

"We are?"

"Aren't we?"

"Well, yeah, I guess."

"Right. So we should probably make the most of this awesome phenomenon we call life."

Mack's voice broke when he tried to reply. "Where... ahem... I mean, where is this leading?"

"Where would you like it to lead?"

"Listen, Miss... Rebecca..."

"It's Rebek-AH. With a 'k' and an 'a' and an 'h'."

"Miss Rebekah. I'm not quite sure what's going on."

"Want me to spell it out?"

"If you don't mind."

"I'm hitting on you, Travis. We BOTH are, me and Hayley."

"But... I mean... what if your partner finds out?"

"He won't have to find out cos' I'm gonna tell him." Beck said matter-of-factly. "I'm gonna say, 'Damon, you silly old duffer! Guess what?'"

"So. This Damon guy, is he a big dude?"

"Parts of him are, but what does that matter?"

"Well, when he comes to kick my ass."

"You really think I'm that sort of gal? Like, I'd expose you to some sort of reprisal? That ain't gonna happen, I can assure you."

"Look, I hate to look a gift horse in the mouth, but... well... in the world that I come from..."

"That's a completely different world, Travis, a completely different universe. Full of ego and jealousy and envy and regret. The rules here are completely different."

"What are they, just so I know?"

"Well, rule one is 'Do No Harm'. After that it's just common dog fuck, as Damon would say." Beck's expression clouded slightly and she put a hand to her mouth. "Oh. Unless you find the idea of recreational sex morally repugnant, in which case I apologise for importuning you."

Mack threw his hands up. "NO! No. I don't find it in the least bit repugnant. I guess... I guess it just feels too good to be true."

"How so?" Beck asked, reaching for his hand.

"Are you kidding? A scaly, thirty-something busted-ass ex-Marine?"

"Bullshit, Travis, you're much more than that and you know it."

"No, that's exactly what it said in my discharge papers. And you DO know I'm sort of in a relationship?"

"With the twins? Of course I know. They told me."

"They did?"

"Uh huh." Beck nodded. "And don't worry. I already asked them if it would be okay."

"It?" Mack asked, twirling a finger. "You mean this?"

Beck nodded. "Uh huh."

"A... a... and what did they say?"

"They said, 'Just leave some for us'."

Hayley poked her head through the door. "Settee's made up."

Beck nodded. "Awesome."

"How about his mind? Is IT made up too?"

"Poor boy's having a little existential crisis." Beck said, "But once he gets over it."

Hayley pumped her fist. "Yesss! Travis, my man, take my advice, dispense with the existential crisis. Seriously. Before I met Beck I was a self-loathing, frustrated, pessimistic frump. But she cured me. Through the awesome power of rampant, dirty sex. Didn't you Beck?"

Beck gave a nod. "From zero to a hundred in one brilliant night."

"Right. In a hotel room, with Beck and Tanya. Having never so much as kissed a girl. What I'm trying to say is, Trav, just go with the flow. You're so gonna love this."

"Shall we?" Beck asked, getting to her feet and holding out her hand.

"Where are we going?" Mack asked, eyes wide, staring into the oncoming headlights.

"Settee. Best seat in the house. Damon calls it the work bench."

Hayley led the way. As Beck towed him out of her cabin, Mack saw the farm-girl up on her knees on a broad, flat, padded, weight bearing expanse, saloon table and settee combined to make a generous king-sized bed. Covered in a sheet with a bolster of pillows, it did indeed look the ideal venue. Beck bounced up on the bed beside Hayley, both girls up on their knees, their hand-span thigh gaps plump with promise. Mack stood before them, more or less petrified, a massive erection tenting the front of his shorts. "Errr..." he said, "I'm kinda' manky as Skippy would say."

"Who?"

"My Aussie sidekick. What I mean is, I'm kinda' sweaty after that run. Should I go and have a quick wash?"

The girls chorused, "NO!"

"I always prefer my cock a little bit gamey." Hayley said.

"And this is the girl who thought squirting was gross." Beck chuckled.

"Well you soon fixed that." Hayley said crooking her finger. "Travis? If I may."

Mack took a step forward and Hayley slipped her hand under his straining waistband. Her eyes flew open. "Bloody oath!"

"What?" Beck frowned, diving her hand into his shorts to palpate the lurking monster. "Hell's Bells!"

"Move over Roger Bragg! You have competition."

Between them, they dis-masted Mack's shorts, Beck tugging them down, Hayley guiding his manhood safely under the stretched elastic. Leaning in, she ingested his cock to the back of her throat while Beck hefted his balls. Sweat notwithstanding, he tasted vaguely yet unmistakably of fresh young pussy, and Hayley guessed this wasn't his first rodeo of the day. Gagging, she came away, still connected to his knob by a thick string of saliva. "You're gonna be needing both hands." she told Beck, still busy hefting his sac.

"Comet, Babe?" Beck asked, flopping onto her back, "You wanna be mum?"

A connoisseur who enjoyed the unwrapping as much as the consuming, Mack stood watching, rapt, while Hayley gripped the sides of Beck's bikini bottoms and skimmed them off. While Beck knelt to pull at the bow of her blue- and white-striped top, Mack ogled the gorgeous treasure between her spread legs, small and pink and smooth as a baby's bottom, the outer lips parted by the splay of her thighs, perineum hiding her hole. As he watched, a long, silvery string of what looked like egg-white appeared, spiralling all the way down to the sheets.

"Someone's hot to trot." Hayley nodded, swiping her finger through Beck's wet furrow and sucking it clean.

"Want me to do you?" Beck asked a little breathlessly.

"Thanks, Sweets, but I got this." Hayley said, jerking the side-ties of her own bikini bottoms and tossing them aside to reveal another wet, swollen, twenty-something vagina, her mound lightly furred, her dark, frilly labia partly agape.

Mack stared owl-like from one bouncing pair of breasts to the other, from Hayley's swaying C-cups to Beck's tiny set. "Sorry about the size." Beck intoned, chin down, hands cupping her little bubbies, nipples so hard they were hurting.

"That's one apology entirely wasted." Mack replied in a strangled voice. "May I?" Beck unhanded her treasures, pushing her chest out, while Mack tested their resilience, pressing and squeezing. "Would it be alright if I...?" he said, then smacked his lips.

"That's one request entirely wasted." Beck jibed, "Just do what you do, Trav. You don't have to ask."

"No." Hayley confirmed. "You don't. Cos' WE'RE both here to fuck YOU. Go on. Give 'em a suck."

Mack dipped his head and suckered onto a gorgeous little morsel, rasping the nipple with the top of his tongue, gently nipping and raking the erectile tissue with his teeth. Beck shivered. "Oh, I do love having my little titties sucked. You have no idea."

"You're not Robinson Crusoe." Hayley said, hands under her own breasts, holding them up in anticipation. Taking the hint, Mack broke off and latched onto another entirely different kettle of mammary tissue, bigger, softer, with splendid nipples almost glowing with arousal. Head up, shoulders back, Hayley ran her fingers through his sweat-damp hair, then leant in, inhaling his scent. "My god, Beck! Can you smell it?"

Beck ducked her head, sniffing her way from his waist to his biceps and Mack pulled his elbows in. "Sorry, gang, it might not be a bed of roses in there."

"You don't use deodorant, do you?" Beck asked.

"Look, if you've got some handy."

Hayley pulled back and she and Beck exclaimed, "We HATE deodorant!"

"Chemical warfare against your body, Damon calls it." Beck earnestly said.

"When I met Beck," Hayley continued, "and stopped using that shit, all my zits cleared up in a couple of weeks. And you. You smell like a man should."

"How's that?"

"Like a man!" the pair declared, the twins' habit of echolalia apparently catching. And indeed he did exude the fragrance of slugs and snails and puppy dog's tails, with cinnamon notes and just a whiff of recently fucked young pussy.

Mack continued feasting- Hayley, Beck, back to Hayley, while his hand strayed to his aching erection to give it an encouraging squeeze. Beck pushed his hand away. "Allow us."

Shuffling to the edge of the bed, the girls reefed Mack's sweat-mottled running shirt off overhead. "Lie down!" Beck ordered, while Hayley grabbed him under the arms and dragged him physically on board 'SV Cumalot', the settee. Down at his feet, Beck untied his running shoes and cast them away, before peeling his socks off, giving Mack a spectacular rearview of that scrumptious pink clam, and the cute little pucker of her butthole. Laying down beside him, head on his gut, Hayley had another shot at deep-throating his cock, while Beck sucked and snuffled his balls like a pig rooting for truffles.

Then a voice said, 'Knock, knock." and Maya landed with a thump at the bottom of the companionway. "Oh..." she said, "... there you are."

Mack's abdominals bunched as he propped himself on his elbows, already formulating a barrage of disclaimers, from, 'It's not how it looks', to 'the dog ate it.'

"The twins were looking for you, Travis." Maya blithely announced. "They want to know if they can go for a sail."

"S... s... sail?" Mack stammered and Maya thumbed over her shoulder.

"On the Hobie. They asked Aunty Tan but she said they had to ask you. We're only going out front of the island."

"No, no, sure." Mack huffed, wincing slightly as his knob popped through Hayley's gullet.

Beck patted the jury-rigged mattress. "Come and join in, Maggie. There's plenty to go round. The Hobie can wait."

"Nahhh..." Maya said, rubbing her belly, longingly watching Hayley bob up and down on the massive saliva-slick pole, "It's shark week baby, and anyway I promised the girls."

"Naww... poor babe. Well, we'll put a lay-by sticker on him for you."

Maya turned with a wave. "Make sure you do." she said then mounted the companionway feeling cheated. The only other available cock on the island, her Uncle, was strictly out of bounds. Not that she was a prude, but should he ever discover the truth of her lineage- that she was not just Tanya's half-sister, but also his- the discovery would blow his mind.

"And make sure they wear life jackets!" Beck called out after her. "I'm serious! It's the law."

"I wiiilllll."

Hayley came off Mack's cock, coughing, fluid dripping out of her nose, eyes streaming tears. "Isn't it cute, though," she rasped, "how they still ask permission? Like they're kids?"

"Reliving a lost childhood." Mack said, flopping back.

"Aren't we all?" Beck sighed.

"They're looking for boundaries." Hayley sagely explained. "They said so themselves. They never had any as children and now they're looking to you to provide them."

"They said that?"

"Mmm hmm." Beck and Maya nodded. "You and their mum." Hayley went on.

"Ski... Wendy?"

"Mmm hmm."

"You know she's not really their mom?"

Beck shrugged. "And Damon's not really my dad, so what's your point? He made me. And take it from me. Those girls will never forget what you've done."

Mack looked furtively around, thinking, 'You mean banging them senseless?' "Umm... what?"

"You take care of them. Actually. Like any parent should."

Mack had wilted sightly with the all deep and meaningfuls and Hayley piped up. "Naww..." she said, slowly jacking his cock, "look. Poor little guy's dozed off. Here, I better wake him."

While Mack winkled his thumb into her sopping vagina, Hayley got on with the job, honing skills recently acquired under the patient tutelage of Tanya. Her long-suffering husband had even offered himself up as a training aid, with not so much as a peep of complaint the first time she barfed all over his balls.

Pitching in, Beck slurped up the steady drizzle of spit, pausing now and then to exchange a slobbering tongue-kiss with Hayley. When Mack's hips began to jerk he lay a hand on the back of Hayley's head.

"Oh ohhh..." Beck said, "Travis? Are you gonna cum?"

"If... you... don't..."

Beck slapped Hayley's butt. "Woah, Comet, woah!"

Hayley came up all bleary eyed. While she would have happily taken his load deep in her throat, they'd been going at it barely 10 minutes and a gobby now meant no creampie dessert. Rolling off the bed, Beck ducked into the galley, ripped a square of paper-towel from the roll and held it to Hayley's nose. "Blow."

Hayley did as she was told, then swept her hair back while Beck lobbed the crumpled wad deftly into the sink. Hayley heaved a burp then said, "You're so sweet."

"Gotta look after you." Beck shrugged, kneeling on the bed. She looked at Mack's cock in Hayley's hand, thumb and fingers not quite managing the girth. "How we gonna do this?"

Hayley hooked her hair behind an ear. "You wanna go first? You saw him first."

"Travis?" Beck piped, fondling his balls, "Who do you wanna do first? Me or Comet?"

"Scissor-paper-rock." Mack huffed, arm over his eyes, catching his breath. He'd been so close to orgasming, Emission Control was now busy resetting the dials, pulling him back from the brink, meaning he might now last longer than a few frantic thrusts.

The girls pumped their fists up and down, one, two, three, and Hayley said, "Naww..." as Beck's rock trumped her scissors. Beck led with rock again, the old double-bluff, and Haley wrapped her paper-hand around her fist. Beck's next paper sealed the victory, defeating Hayley's rock and they repositioned. Throwing a leg over Mack, face-to-face, Beck grabbed his pole and was about to impale herself when Hayley lay a hand on her butt. "Here," she said, "turn around so I can see."

Beck thought about it briefly. "Good idea." she nodded. She loved the spectacle so much herself, watching one of her pals do reverse cowgirl with her cock-stretched pussy on full display, that she happily turned over and sat, poised to take her reward.

"If that doesn't look good enough to eat." Hayley breathed.

"Which bit?"

"All of it. Here, want me to put him in?" Not waiting for an answer, Hayley ploughed Beck's pink slit, then pushed her perineum back feeling for the sweet spot. Mack's knob popped through the tight ring of muscle and Beck bit her lip. "Cor blimey." Hayley exclaimed, "Look at it stretch!"

"Tell... me..." Beck grated, "... about it."

Slowly at first, Mack's hands gripping her waist, Beck commenced rising up and down. Mack grit his teeth. Her hot, tight, slippery insides were in one way just more of the same- he'd been inside 3 similar renditions of the same miraculous structure in the past few hours- yet at the same time it was the first and last and one and only of its kind. Utterly unique, a true sensation. As Beck slid up and down on his pussy-slimed erection, her dimensions began to adapt, her tract gradually deepening as his cock muscled its way into her. "Holy..." she squeaked.

"You okay?" Mack grunted. He'd fetched up in the tight pinch behind her uterus and muscle wall, like a tiny little pussy within a pussy.

"Holy..." Beck said again.

"You should see it!" Hayley said, doubled over, nose an inch from the action, watching Mack's mighty penis power in and out between Beck's bulging pussy lips, a ring of inner-pink membrane clinging to his skin.

"Stop!" Beck huffed, her entire weight resting on the tip of his prick, and Mack briefly wondered if he were about to punch a hole through her diaphragm. "Travis stop!"

"You okay, Honey?"

"Comet? Stick your tongue in me."

Almost doing herself an injury in her haste to comply, Hayley lay on her tummy, then opened her mouth to Beck's distended pussy, bottom lip riding over Mack's pumping shaft. Her stiff pink tongue worked its way under the shelf of Beck's pubic bone, burrowing between her candy pink flesh and Mack's erection. The 'Princess DP'- just one more cunning stunt from Tanya's vast repertoire. Beck lay a hand on the top of her head. "Holy shit! Comet!"

"Oo ike at?" Hayley asked, forcing her tongue in as far as it would go."

Beck nodded avidly and for the next few minutes, Hayley probed the blonde's intimate depths with her skilful tongue, pulling out now and then to lick Mack's exposed shaft and the underside of his sac.

"Comet! Babe!" Beck huffed. "Suck my clit." Hayley withdrew to give the little bead a thorough tongue-lashing and Beck's hips began to jerk. "Enough, enough!"

Hayley pulled back, face wet from ear to ear. "If that's not the sweetest little pussy I've ever eaten."

"If that's not the stiffest little tongue I've ever had inside me." Beck panted, holding her hand out. Hayley pulled her up and Beck repositioned, feet flat on the mattress, hands braced on Mack's shins. Elevating, she dropped her chin to watch the huge, veiny shaft emerge out of her hole until it sprang free wagging in surprise. "Just want to..." Beck grunted, plugging Mack back in again and shimmying as far down as she could go, "... feel him going in again."

Damp hair dangling, mouth hanging open, she took up the rhythm once more, up and down, up and down, a thread of drool dangling from her lip. Mack arched his neck, taking in the sight of her little bubble butt and her twitching pink butthole, and that gorgeous little pussy suckered around his meat, taking all but an inch or two into its slippery grasp. "Holy fuck!" Beck exclaimed.

Hayley reached for her vagina. "Want me to rub your clit?"

Beck shook her head. "Bite my nipples."

Only too happy to oblige, Hayley shuffled forward to pinch Beck's rock-hard little nubbins between her incisors. Beck threw her head back. "Holy... FUCK! Travis? Are you-"

"Gonna cum? No, you go for it!"

Up and down, swivelling her hips, Beck dug her fingers into Mack's shins, her pussy contracting, unleashing a blurt of body-fluid into Hayley's waiting palm. Riding the orgasm-wave all the way until it fizzled out on a far-flung shore, she brushed Hayley's hand away and sat, shivering, six inches of thick dick lodged under her solar plexus. "Jesus Murphy!" she panted, ribcage heaving. "Now I know... what the girls were talking about."

Mack gave her butt a gentle slap. "You right there, Sweetheart?"

"Yeah... no... that was awesome. Travis? Did you cum?"

Mack grunted with laughter. "Too busy hanging on."

"That's exactly what they said you'd say."

"The twins?"

"All three of them."

"So. All my secrets revealed."

"There must be a few left." Beck panted, slowly elevating, "What do you say? Got another round in you?"

Mack looked past Beck at Hayley. On purpose or not, her hands were clasped as if in supplication. "That depends on whether there are any more takers."

Beck tensed her pelvic floor and Mack popped out in a gush of body fluid, the creamy residue of Beck's beaten mucous. "Here's one I prepared earlier." she said, taking Hayley's hand. "Permit me to introduce Comet. She likes sunsets, indie rock, long romantic walks on the beach, puppies, kittens and being slammed from behind till she's cross-eyed."

"As in doggy-style." Hayley confirmed. "Like, really hammered."

Kneeling, Beck leant over Mack's hardware, turning it this way and that. "The bloody thing's still hard as a rock." she breathed giving it a flick.

"It's been doing that a bit." Mack confirmed, "Since the op. I don't know what's got into it."

"At least you know what it's got into." Hayley said, champing at the bit to add to the score.

"Up a daise." Beck said and Hayley rolled onto all fours, chest on the mattress, hiking her ample ass up as high as it would go. Up on his knees, Mack eyed the target, plump, lightly furred, fully engorged and hanging out to meet him.

Beck stroked her ass and Hayley shivered. "Aint' that a peach?"

Mack gave it a glance then nodded. "Yes. Yes it is."

"You ready for this, Comet?"

Hayley shook her ass. "Gi wo, as Yannie would say."

"Who?" Mack frowned.

"Our Chinese girl, Yan. You might get to meet her one day. 'Gi wo' means 'give it to me'. Honey? Want me to put him in?"

"Ready when you are."

Beck did to Hayley what Hayley had done to her, swiping the slippery-slide of her vestibule three or four times, laying the furrow open, before bulldozing her membrane back with the tip of Mack's knob. Hayley tensed as her entrance stretched and goosebumps sprang up on her skin. Hand on the small of Mack's back, Beck pushed 2 or 3 inches into her friend and she flinched. "Oh! Oh-ho-ho-HO! OH! FUCK!"

"You ri-" Mack began and Beck pinched his ass.

"Shhh!"

Pushing up, Hayley looked over her shoulder. "What IS that thing you just stuck inside me? A jolly telephone pole?"

"He's not even halfway in."

Hayley shook her ass. "Fuck! Get ready to give it a suck when it pops out my mouth!"

"I know, right? I just had a complimentary tonsillectomy." Reaching between his legs from behind, Beck hefted Mack's balls, then traced the margin of Hayley's distended pussy. "All ahead half, Captain."

Pulling back, Mack gave a little thrust, gaining another half an inch, forcing a spoonful of air out with a sound like fabric tearing. Pacing himself, he took a moment to savour the feel, just one of many but the first of its kind- a brand new body. Hayley's pussy was tight but not quite life-threatening, a rippled, velvet tube slicked with mucous. And her smell; tart, slightly citrussy, with floral notes and a musky nose. And that's exactly what it was, Mack thought, a rare, delicious wine to be savoured.

Reaching back, Hayley patted his thigh. "Faster!"

"That's the spirit!" Beck cheered.

Back flexing, hands gripping her waist, Mack powered into her, balls swinging to the sound of smacking and squelching. Somewhere up near the small of her back, he slammed into a rubbery dead end and Hayley let out a cry, head on the mattress, hair strewn like seaweed over the beach of her pillow. Rivulets of sweat coursed over her back as she dialled into the awesome sensation, a big, handsome man's iron-bar erection pounding her delicate innards. "Ladies." Mack rasped, casting an anxious glance at Beck.

Beck leant around to look him in the eye. "You gonna cum?"

"Any minute."

"Stop! Comet? Double-plugger?"

Hayley shuddered to a halt. "But..." she said, aching to feel him ejaculate inside her, then on second thoughts nodded. "Okay."

"Double-what?" Mack puffed.

"You'll see." Beck replied, hand on Hayley's ass pushing her off Mack's big, dripping dick. He clenched his teeth, willing the twitching in his pelvic floor to subside, one or two contractions short of blowing his load. The girls meanwhile carried out a well-practiced reconfiguration, Hayley, on her back, pulling Beck face-up on top of her.

Mack blinked at the sight of 2 hungry pussies, one smooth as a billiard ball, the other covered in light-brown fuzz matted with froth. "Girls," he said, "if I don't survive this."

"Don't worry," Beck reassured him, "we'll give you a hero's funeral. Now, here are the rules. Topsies first. I mean me. Then comet. Max five thrusts in each. If you manage to cum in us both you get a gold star."

"Or an elephant stamp." Hayley added. "From a real elephant. Once you give him his trunk back."

"Ready?" Beck asked.

Mack went slowly at first, zeroing his sights. This wasn't the first time he'd competed in this event, though the girls involved were usually face-to-face, so he took his time, up on his knees between 4 spread legs. But that lurking orgasm was soon nipping at his heels and it wasn't long before his balls began to clench. Beck and Hayley managed to kiss as he drove into each in turn, four or five thrusts each, just like Beck had said, each deeper and harder and more pressing than the last. Pulling out of Beck, he glimpsed a river of body-fluid coursing down her butt-crack into Hayley's gaping vagina, and he punched into her, taking it with him. And that did it. His pelvic-floor contracted and a massive surge of semen pulsed through his plumbing, erupting deep inside Hayley, hosing her uterus.

Hayley yelped. "FUCK! TRAVIS!"

Pulling out, spurting cum, Mack speared straight back into Beck, teeth bared, eyes bulging, similarly dousing her innards. Pushing up, Beck watched spellbound as Mack backed his huge, spitting cock out of her depths only to plunge straight into the beauty beneath her. "One more!" Mack huffed, pulling out of one pussy and plunging back into another, physically driving Beck up Hayley's body. Holding at maximum penetration, he collapsed onto her shuddering though a few last token squirts, while Beck wrapped her legs around him, gripping his ass.

"Ho... leee... FUCK!" Hayley's muffled voice exclaimed. "I swear to god, I can taste that salty goodness in the back of my throat."

"Two each! At least!" Beck cheered, tilting her head back to exchange a deep, passionate kiss with the panting Marine. She tightened her muscles, her pussy like a hot little fist trying to milk his cock of a few final drops.

"You don't just get an elephant stamp." Hayley panted, "You get the whole bloody elephant."

"Do you want him back in you, Sweets?"

"Totes! If he doesn't mind."

"Trav?"

"What? No. Of course."

Pushing up he withdrew deliberately from Beck's tight embrace, feeling every millimetre of the extraction. While Beck rolled off, Hayley groped for his dripping dick, and jammed him back in, forcing his knob through her portal into a hot, sloppy concoction of semen and girl-juice. "Oh, yeahhh." she breathed.

"Comet?" Mack asked, on terms now intimate enough to use her nickname, "Did you manage to cum?"

"Not this time, Trav, but thanks for asking."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Beck patted his ass. "Naww... that's so sweet. Comet?"

"Look," Hayley said, propping herself on her elbows to look Mack in the eye, "to be honest, I might save it for later. If there's gonna be a later that is."

Mack drove another couple of inches into her, revelling in the feel of her slippery insides. "Why wouldn't there be?"

Beck rubbed Hayley's sweaty arm. "Comet has confidence issues, don't you, Sweets?"

"Just a little shy, that's all."

"Took two weeks to have her first orgasm with a guy, didn't it, Comet?" Damon Watson, as it turned out, Beck's saviour, teacher and partner. "She's still up-skilling."

"That doesn't mean I don't like to practice." Hayley said. "With a cock like... with a guy like you especially."

Working his hips, Mack worked his penis as deep as it would go inside her. Incredibly, or worryingly- either way he'd soon find out- he was still rock-hard.

"Well," Beck sighed, wriggling out from the middle of the 3-body sandwich, "this won't buy the baby a new dress."

"Baby?" Mack echoed, alarm bells ringing. The tiny girl bore no hint of a caesarean scar so how the fuck did the kid get out?

"It's just a saying, silly." Beck giggled, noting his look. "It means I've got a job to do."

"We're on lunch duty." Hayley explained, hands braced on Mack's chest, pushing him up. "We all take turns."

"We do?" Mack asked, in his mind's eye serving up his signature dish, MRE chilli and beans.

Beck shook her head. "Not you, just the chicks."

"Why just the chi... why just the women?"

Sweat beading her upper lip, Beck hooked her platinum hair back. "Cos' we don't wanna starve."

"We can cook." Mack protested.

"We know you can," Beck said, "but what comes first? Right. A beer. And what's after that? ANOTHER beer. And then another. Then it's, 'Oh ohh, we're running out of beer so we better get some more, and while we're at it we might as well get some take-out. So then it's off to the bottlo and when you get home it's, 'Ooops, forgot the take-out, better have ANOTHER beer.' And on and on it goes. Ask Damon. We chicks cook, you knuckle-draggers drink the beer. Otherwise we'll all go extinct."

"What about barbeque?" Mack soldiered on, taking a stand for his species. "That's a guy thing."

"Where a bunch of boozy boofheads turn meat into charcoal." Hayley glared. "I think not. Hang on, I think Mister Mister's coming out."

Arms braced on the bed, Mack raised his sweat-sheened ass, slowly withdrawing until he popped free of Hayley's vice-like grip. Sitting back, propped up on her arms with her knees flopped to the sides, she dipped her head to watch the slow gulp of semen from her pussy. Following her gaze, Beck raked her hair back and rolled between Hayley's legs. "Waste not want not!" she said, slipping her hands under Hayley's bottom, then scooped up the cum using her tongue as a spoon, sucking and slurping before delving as deep as she could go.

"Tanny calls this 'Nectar of the gods'." Hayley laughed a little breathlessly, her flat, creased belly heaving.

Pulling back, Beck slid 2 fingers in, palm up, as far as her knuckles. "The deeper it is the tastier it gets." she explained, withdrawing with her fingers coated in cum. Sucking them dry, she pushed in again as Hayley flopped onto her back, and again, and again, until Beck abandoned all pretence of gustation and suckered onto Hayley's clitoris, looking up through her lashes over the girl's squirming body. She pinched Hayley's nipples, while Hayley clutched 2 fists-full of Beck's damp hair. Only a couple of minutes in and Hayley's hips began to hump while Mack looked on, absent-mindedly jacking his cock, enthralled by the tenderness, the intimacy, the sheer sincerity of one thoughtful girlfriend doing the other a good deed. There was a squelch and Beck flinched, smiling as girl-cum showered her face.

Mack shook his head. "Wow."

"Hope you don't mind." Hayley said self-consciously, her cheeks pinking.

Mack reared back in surprise. "Hell no!"

"Of course he doesn't mind." Beck growled, pushing up, Hayley's clear ejaculate dripping from her chin, "Or we wouldn't be fucking him. Toots?" she sweetly asked, "You wanna eat mine?"

They swapped positions and Hayley duly cleaned Beck out, but when she went to put a finger in Beck stayed her. "Sorry, Pet, the poor little thing's had a busy few days."

"What? No worries. I think I got most of it."

"It'll aaalll come out in the wash." Beck grinned crooking her finger. Hayley leant into her and for the next little while they kissed, shuttling a mixture of semen, spit and girl-cum from one to the other. Breaking off, Beck swallowed with a satisfied, 'Ahhhh!' and the girls looked triumphantly at Mack. "Well," Beck said, "welcome to the tribe. I got a feeling you're gonna fit in nicely."