You're not exactly like your father

If a human wishes to lift a rock, they might simply bend over, pick it up with their hand, and straighten up. This simple act, expending chemical energy to create kinetic energy, is an expression of human biomechanics. We do not need technology to achieve this, but we might use tools to do so faster, lift bigger rocks further, spend less energy when lifting them, or to translate our rock-lifting ability into some other way to transfer energy, like starting a fire or generating an electrical charge. Some extraterrestrial species may struggle at what appears to be a simple task to a human, but that is because they have evolved to do work differently. A brain slug in its native state cannot lift a rock. A brain slug that takes a human host becomes capable of the entire range of human biomechanics. To a brain slug, a human host is a tool.
—Mallory Giger, Xenobiomechanics, Introduction

Jordan and Jenny tapped on Rachel's smartphone. Mel felt the key dig into the palm of his hand. The crowded apartment seemed to hold its breath. Finally, Jordan handed the phone to Rache, who read it, nodded, then handed it to Mel, who read it.

"Do you want me to read this out loud—" he asked, looking from Rache to Lucie and back again.

"You might as well," Lucie said, her face carefully controlled as she stood up and smoothed her gray slacks.

"No direct unprotected sexual contact without a clean STD test," he read from the phone.

Lucie frowned. "How is this supposed to work, then?"

"It's the same rule we have for all of our sex friends," Rache said. "Ask 'stasia or Béibhinn."

"I had to stop by the clinic on campus to get tested," Anastasia confirmed. "Won't know for at least a week."

"I understand that, but I'm—I'm ovulating right now," Lucie said. "It's one of the reasons I flew out here when I did. I was hoping we could go back to my hotel room and—"

"Um, that comes to the second rule: all sex has to happen in the apartment," Mel read. He glanced at Rachel, Jordan, and Jenny, but they didn't offer any clarification on this.

Lucie put her hands on her hips. "And what if Mel feels differently? Is there anything to stop him from—"

"Hold on," Mel broke in, and handed the phone back to Rachel. "Mrs. Maguire—"

"Lucie," the older woman insisted, and Mel flinched. It had been force of habit.

"Lucie. Look at me, please."

Everyone in the room looked at him. He was keenly aware of being the center of attention.

"You have made it very clear since I've met you that you were just my surrogate. That you had no responsibility towards me. We have no relationship," he said each of the words carefully. "You want something from me. I'm willing to provide that, against my better judgment, because it will make my sister Molly happy and because my girlfriends are surprisingly cool with it. But you can't set the terms. I don't owe you anything, and I care much more about the health and wellbeing of my girlfriends than I do your biological ticking clock."

He let that set in. Lucie's mouth was a thin line, but she didn't interrupt.

"This whole situation is unusual. It's a first for us all. We'll have to get creative. I'm still willing to provide you with the sperm you want, and I'm sure we can find a compromise that satisfies everyone—but I do need you to appreciate that, because if you can't respect the women I'm with, then this impregnation isn't happening," Mel said, with as much confidence and determination as he could muster.

Lucie said nothing for a moment. Her eyes seemed very bright, just then, and before he knew it hot tears were running down her face, and the tight line of her lips curled into the most natural and unassuming smile that Mel had ever seen on the older woman's features. Molly stepped forward and grabbed her mother's arm; the older woman put her hand over her daughter's and smiled at her.

"It's alright. It's just the exact sort of thing James would say, and just the way he would say it. He was always so considerate—but it wasn't love, and I think we both knew that, in the end. Once he was with Sinead, he was with her," Lucie said with a sigh, and wiped away her tears. "And no one else. I need to call my husband to make sure he's fine with this. Is everyone else staying to watch?"

"Ma mère!" Molly said.

In the semi-privacy of the bathroom, Lucie made the phone call. Anastasia offered to make tea for anyone who wanted it, maybe put on a movie, and Béibhinn took her up on it, which left Jordan, Jenny, Rache, and Molly together.

Mel turned to his sister.

"I think you might want to go with 'stasia," he said.

"Why?" Molly said.

"Because I'm going to inseminate your mother," he said, which sounded weirdly clinical and terribly blunt. Molly sucked in her lower lip and set her jaw.

"So? I can be . . . moral support!" she insisted.

"I don't know if your mother needs someone to cheer her on," Rachel chimed in. "This is going to be stressful enough with the three of us here. It might be more comfortable for her without an audience."

"We'll see what she says," Molly said, crossing her arms under her chest, which had the odd effect of lifting them up and making them more prominent. Mel did his best not to stare.

"Fine," Mel said, and shared a glance with Rachel, whose worried gaze said it was probably not fine but that was unwilling to argue the point.

Mel excused himself to the bedroom to pull down his pants and unlock the cage. There was a general relief that came from letting his dick breathe, so to speak, and he stared down at the organ contemplatively. Aware of all the strangeness that seemed to center on his sexual ability.

He wasn't sure why he'd been concerned about Molly seeing him in action. She had already seen both of his videos, after all. Even if she was technically his half-sister, he wasn't sure how he was supposed to feel, emotionally, about her seeing him having sex. It was odd, but not depressing or angry, just . . . vaguely embarrassing, maybe? Mel smiled to himself, hoping he wasn't screwing up his relationship with her already.

Raised voices in the main room caught Mel's attention.

". . . young lady!" Lucie said.

"I'm staying!" Molly said, and stomped her foot to emphasize the point.

Lucie sighed and looked at Mel. "She takes after me this way, I'm afraid. Stubborn."

"Oui," Molly said smugly. "Je suis vraiment têtue."

"You could make her leave," Lucie said to Mel.

Molly shifted her gaze to her half-brother. Those dark eyes were big and wide, the lower lip stuck out in an unconscious pout. Mel chewed his thoughts, and Rachel and the brain slug hosts looked at him, clearly delegating the decision. She was his half-sister after all.

"I could, but I won't," he said. "Molly is an adult and can make her own choices. I promised I wouldn't lie or hide anything from her. I realize having her here seems weird, but I'm not willing to kick her out."

Lucie stared at her daughter. "This isn't the kind of sex education I ever imagined giving you," the older woman said. Mel noticed she'd long since dried her tears. "But perhaps one day, you'll meet a young man you love and make me un petit-enfant, so you should at least see one way of how to do it."

Molly said nothing to that, but her eyes glanced briefly to Mel, then down towards the floor.

"So," Mel said. "How are we doing this?"

Rache looked at Lucie. "That depends. Are you okay with being touched?"

Lucie gave a very Gallic shrug, as if the words had washed off her like water on a duck's back. "If that's what it takes."

"Okay," Rache said. "So we have four condoms left. Mel can't have sex with Lucie directly without a condom, but he can have sex with each of us, and we can pour the condoms into Lucie. Meanwhile, Lucie can masturbate, and we can help her out so that she has an orgasm or four, which should increase the chances of conception."

Molly glanced at Mel. "You're going to have sex with all four of them?"

"Sounds like it," Mel said. "Um. Refractory period being what it is, it will take me longer to ejaculate after each round. We might be here for an hour or two. Maybe more. What about oral sex?"

"Oh, we can get you hard," Rache said confidently.

"I mean, am I eating Lucie out at any point?" Mel asked. "Do we have any dental dams left?"

Jordan held up two.

"Right," Mel said. He took a deep breath. This wasn't exactly a spontaneous show of love and lust. More of the necessary logistics of trying to satisfy four women with different expectations and requirements. So . . . Lucie. Would you like to do this on the couch or the bed? Start out with cunnilingus, or what? You're our guest, after all."

"I think we should start with getting naked," Lucie said. "Molly, darling, unless you want to see rather more of your mother than you ever hoped . . ."

"I'm fine," Molly said, planting herself in the chair. Then her face grew grave. "Are you going to tell mon père?"

Lucie sighed as she unbuttoned her blouse. "Papa has said that he has no desire to know what I'm doing or who I'm doing it with during this weekend. I suspect we will have a lot of making up to do with him when I get back. He is very kind and understanding, but I fear I still hurt him."

Jordan and Jenny took off their t-shirts, their small breasts bare, nipples stiff. Mel took that as a cue to begin undressing. Molly sat on her chair, spine stiff, hands on her knees as five people carefully disrobed in front of her, folding their clothes and putting them in neat little piles on the chest of drawers or the kitchen counter.

She stared openly at Rachel and Jordan with their blonde hair. The brain slug on Jenny's back stared back at her as the slim Asian woman bent down to pull her panties and step out of them. Sucked in her lips and bit them as Mel pulled down his pants, staring at his Japanese underwear. Her mother stared too, when Mel unwound the fundoshi and finally stood there naked in front of them.

Lucie took a deep breath.

"Well," she said at last. "You're not exactly like your father."

Mel wasn't sure how to take that. So instead, he ran his eyes over Lucie.

Undressed, Lucie's curves stood out more clearly. The breasts were bigger and hung lower than Rachel's; the nipples were dark and thick. The hips were more pronounced, the thighs thicker, the stomach a little soft. A dark triangle of hair hid her labia. Lucie held her hands on her hips, and Mel couldn't tell if she was blushing, but he could see that the nipples were getting stiff.

"So," he said. "Where do you want me first?"

Jordan stepped forward. She had a condom in her hand. Nor was she afraid to use it.

Mel wasn't quite hard as she slid it onto his prick. Her mouth found his clavicle, kissing hard. Jordan left a trail of kisses down his chest, pausing to run her tongue around his nipple before moving down to where he had begun to swell. Lucie sat on the edge of the couch and watched as Rachel and Jenny laid down towels on the cushions. Rache whispered something in Lucie's ear, and the older woman nodded, her hand finding its way between her legs, rubbing her slit.

There was a weird expectancy in the air, as Jordan's tongue reached the almost-fully-erect prick. Blood rushed into it as she slowly took it in deep, as deep as she could, and then she pulled back, lips pulling back as the blonde brain slug host sucked hard, until only the tip was in her mouth, and her blue eyes found Mel's and she held him there for a moment, her tongue playing around the swollen, rubbery head in its thin sheath.

A moan caught his attention. Mel turned to see Jenny in his spot on the couch, slouched down, legs open. Rache was on her knees, face buried in the shaven snatch, fingering herself, rubbing at her clit as she licked. When Jordan released Mel with a wet smack of her lips, Rache raised her head and smiled at him.

"She's ready for you," the blonde said.

Jordan held Mel's hip as Rachel moved out of the way. Jenny's face was flushed, her expression placid. Dimly, Mel was aware that he had an audience, mother and daughter watching as he leaned over her and kissed Jenny's nipples. Rache reached between his legs from behind, her thumb on the base of his scrotum as he guided himself in between those shaven lips, the smooth labia parting as he pushed in.

Later, Mel wondered if there was a calculated cruelty to that plan. It shouldn't have been possible for the three women to have planned things out in detail without everyone else hearing, but he had noticed odd moments of synchronicity since Rachel had taken the blue pearl. Lucie, seated on the edge of the couch, her dark fingers rubbing through those dark curly hairs to excite herself as she watched her sperm donor make love to his girlfriends, one after another, wanting to feel that and knowing she wouldn't . . . maybe there was method in their madness.

What Mel knew was that the sisters weren't idle as he humped and pumped. Rache's fingers rubbed at Jenny's clit. Jordan's mouth sucked at a nipple. For twenty intense minutes, Jenny was on the receiving end of attention from all three of them, as Mel's thrusts grew deeper and faster, and the dark-haired brain slug host's thighs rose, the heels closing tight against his buttocks, bucking against him as he went faster and faster, the utter need building and building at the base of him until, with a sudden unstoppable runaway sprint that made even the brain slug host gasp, her dark eyes going wide, the whites glowing softly, he exploded deep inside, white rope after rope filling the sperm receptacle.

Mel pulled out. The dangling balloon hung at the end of his prick. He sucked in air, then bent forward and buried his face hungrily in Jenny's snatch. Her fingers curled through the hair of his head to grip his skull as he finished her off. He could feel her toes curl against his shoulder, the tightness of her thighs that went suddenly slack.

When he came up for air, Mel saw Rache hand the filled condom to Lucie.

The older woman lay with her hips raised on the arm of the couch. Long, nimble fingers dug through the dark thatch and spread her labia. Mel caught a glimpse of salmon-pink as she guided the condom to the entrance and carefully inverted it, squeezing every drop deep inside. Molly, Mel saw, was staring. Lips open, the tip of her tongue visible. Knuckles white on her knees, looking as if she wanted the courage to say something, but couldn't find it.

Jenny handed Mel a can of Quench. As he cracked it open, Jenny stood on shaky legs. Jordan sat down on the damp towel. As Rache settled between her sister's legs, Jenny knelt before Mel. She gave the base of his shaft a little kiss before she slid the second condom on. Mel chugged the revitalizing drink as Jenny went to work. She took her time, not trying to engulf him, but holding his head in her mouth and slowly stroking the shaft with her fingers, her free hand gently tugging and squeezing his testicles, especially the sensitive underside that ran up to his taint.

It took time. Eight minutes, maybe, for Mel to be truly hard, and even then he knew it would take longer to erupt. Yet when he was standing tall again, Jordan was ready.

She had her labia spread, slick with her sister's spit and her own juices. The whites of her eyes seemed to glow. Mel knelt down and gently tapped her labia with his shaft. Smiled at her as he rubbed his tip against her stiff clit, which already stood protuberant outside of its hood. He set his thumb on that sensitive little bean as he slowly slid his tip in. Just the tip. Getting her used to the size and heat of it as the pad of his thumb rubbed in slow circles. They stared in each other's eyes, just breathing as he felt her muscles squeeze him.

He slid deeper inside slowly. Never stopping with his tongue. With Lucie laying on the other side of the couch, letting the cum soak deep inside, there wasn't room for both of Mel's other girlfriends. Yet Rachel hung out next to Jordan on the couch, licking and sucking at her nipples, letting her tongue play with her sister's as Mel moved deeper. Jenny crawled toward Lucie, and Mel saw she lowered her mouth toward a dark nipple.

For a moment, Mel thought Lucie might say something. He paused, all the way inside of Jordan, and looked over at their older guest.

"If you don't want to interact with the ladies, you don't have to," he said. "Just say the word. Nobody touches you unless you want to."

"No," Lucie shook her head. "It's fine. Just . . . unexpected. I haven't been with a woman in a long time."

Mel glanced at Molly. She looked ready to explode, beads of perspiration on her face. He was sure she had a thousand questions. The expression on her face reminded Mel of a time they had taken them out to a three-hour movie at the theater, and by the time it was done his bladder had been ready to explode.

"If you need to go take care of anything," Rache said quietly. "The bathroom will give you some privacy."

Molly shook her head. Knees together now, feet hooked around the legs of the chair. Missing nothing.

Rache's left hand lay on her sister's stomach.

"Fuck her good, Mel," she whispered, voice breathy. "Hard and deep. Fuck her like you're going to put a baby in her."

Mel's face burned at that. He slid out until only the tip remained inside, then pushed it back in. Not too deep, despite what Rache said. He didn't want to hurt Jordan. The blue eyes of the brain slug host found his, and though she didn't smile, a little color grew on those cheeks, the dark pupils grew wide, and her right hand reached out and found his left, the fingers twining, palms pressed together as he picked up the pace.

A slight moan from Mel's left caught his attention, but he ignored it as his hips bucked a little faster. His thumb never wavered in its gyrations, always pressing on Jordan's clit. Her knees drew up and pressed against his sides, so only his hips moved, thrusting forward, balls slapping against her ass with each stroke, and for a moment. Mel thought about what this would feel like without a condom, if he was taking her unprotected, of his seed splashing against her cervix and the eager sphincter opening to suck it all in where her egg lay waiting. His body tensed and shook as he thought of her there with her belly bloated and breasts sagging to either side, the pink nipples darker, thicker, beaded with milk. A mother's body, ripe and fertile and . . .

Jordan's mouth opened in a soundless O of ecstasy that drove Mel wild, pounding at her faster and deeper for a moment as his aching balls clenched and a line of fire drew up his shaft to erupt in a moment when Mel's vision seemed to fail, and his whole body acted on autopilot, a torrent of white liquid ballooning the condom as his thrusts grew short and fast, pumping madly.

When he pulled out, Jordan sat up, and their lips met, tongues tasting each other. Sweat dripped down Mel's ribs now, chest heaving as they shared one hot breath between them. Then Jordan let him go and fell back. Jenny pinched off the condom and carried it over Lucie's body, letting the latex slide between her breasts and over her belly before she brought it to the upraised hips.

"So much . . ." Lucie said, and her voice was tighter now. Mel saw that both of her nipples were wet and hard, and what might have been the impression of teeth around them. The older woman spread her lips with her fingers, and this time Jenny poured it in, working with the same meticulous care she might have done to make sure a hungry brain slug got its share.

Mel took a quick bathroom break. When he came back out, he found things had changed up a little.

Jenny was running a safety razor between Lucie's legs. The dark forest was swiftly vanishing, leaving behind dark skin and the soft swell of the mons. Rachel and Jordan were on the other end of the couch, the brain slug host rubbing her fingers over her sister's slit, their lips locks in a kiss.

"Is it . . . always like this?" Molly asked. Her gaze went back to Mel's crotch. He was still somewhat swollen, though nowhere near getting fully erect again, at least for a few minutes.

"We don't have group sex every night, if that's what you're asking," Mel said.

"No, I mean," Molly gestured to Rache and Jordan. "Were they always . . . bisexuelle?"

Mel thought about it.

"I don't know if brain slug sexuality is very cut and dried that way," he said. "Rachel wasn't very interested in the girl-girl stuff at the beginning, but Jordan and Jenny were open to a physical relationship with her, and I admit I'm kind of glad. I think I would be hard-pressed to keep them all happy if it was down to just me. You've seen some of my limits, and I still have two condoms to fill. Speaking of which . . ." he slid the third onto his half-swollen shaft.

Jenny had finished shaving Lucie's crotch. The dark inner lips were slightly protuberant, showing a thin slice of pink, sticky with white. Over this, Jenny carefully placed the dental dam, the clear plastic covering Lucie from perineum to clitoris. The Asian brain slug host pressed her tongue against the slightly swollen sensitive nub, and Lucie gave out a soft moan.

Mel watched and stroked. He knew that Lucie's chances of conception were greater if the sperm actually made it into her womb. An orgasm would cause her cervix to draw those two loads down into her. The thought was arousing, but after two ejaculations in quick succession, Mel knew he wasn't going to be standing tall immediately. So he enjoyed the show.

So did Molly. She sat with her ass on the edge of the chair, eyes going from the three scenes of sexual activity. Mel had the impression her panties were pressing hard against the edge of the chair, and she kept wiping her hands on her thighs. Careful not to let her fingers go anywhere close to her own crotch, yet at the same time, he was certain the sights, sounds, and smells were affecting her. Perspiration beaded her upper lip, and little rivulets ran down her face and soaked her collar and armpits.

Rache smiled at Molly, her expression sympathetic.

"When you're in a group," the blonde said. "Group stuff is part of the point. I mean, we all love Mel, don't get me wrong, and there's nothing like having that hard, hot meat up inside of me, but the variety . . . I never get bored, you know? And I don't think anybody here does. Just so much more fun than playing by myself."

Molly sucked in her lips at that. Mel, for his part, grew tired of just watching and slid onto his knees, one hand still stroking his length as he planted a kiss on Rachel's knee. Then another on his thigh. He could smell her excitement now, a sharp, tangy scent that meant her juices were flowing. Two of Jordan's fingers were churning her sister up, sliding in and out, and Rache was panting even before Mel's face drew close. Jordan's fingers left a slimy trail on Rache's stomach as Mel's mouth settled on the protuberant clit, sucking softly.

Before Mel even put it in, Rache's hips bucked, and she gave a moan, a hot spurt of liquid splashing across Mel's face to drip down his chin and onto his chest.

"W-wait!" Rache said. "Let me get in position."

She turned over, sliding down until her knees were on the floor, ass pointed toward Mel, whose aching stiffness stood out in front of him. Rache reached between her legs and spread her lips in lewd invitation.

"Come on!" she said. "Fuck me like you're going to breed me!"

Lucie looked at Mel sharply, and he gave a sheepish grin as he positioned himself behind Rachel.

"She has a kink," Mel said. "Don't worry, you're the one getting the semen."

Lucie frowned at that. Then reached towards Jenny's head.

"Careful!" he warned. "Don't touch the brain slug. They're very sensitive."

The hand withdrew. Lucie occupied herself with tugging at her nipples. Which gave Mel the idea of reaching down beneath Rache to cup and caress her breasts. He kissed her spine, just below the incision where the blue pearl had been implanted. A soft blue glow was visible beneath the skin there, but only if you knew to look for it.

"C'mon, babe," Rache said, pushing her buttocks back to meet his gentle thrusts. "Hard and fast. Pump it in me. I've already cum . . ."

"Once," he said, his fingers toying with her stiff nipples. "Which is a good start."

Mel wasn't aware where Jordan had gone until he felt the tongue that lapped at his scrotum. As her humped, with the single-minded determination of a man with one job to do, the blonde brain-slug host let her tongue and mouth clean him with the thoroughness of a cat. Her tongue ran all over his suck, the base of his shaft where the condom didn't quite reach, and up over her perineum. It even inched delicately near his anus, and Mel felt a strange apprehension and excitement at the thought of that. They had never done that before.

Nor did they do it now. Mel felt an absurd disappointment as Jordan grabbed her sister's thighs and pressed her hips against Mel's butt, thrusting as he thrust, adding her mass and strength to his, forcing his prick into her sister faster and harder. Beneath them both, Rachel's fingers found her clit, and she jilled for all she was worth. Unlike the two brain slug hosts, she was vocal in her appreciation. Moans that grew higher and higher in pitch and volume, her wordless exultation evident as Mel jackhammered into her pussy from behind . . . and when he grunted and burst inside of her, Jordan kept moving, kept forcing him to pump forward, even as his shaft began to shrink and he was pushing rope, until Rache shuddered and buried her face in the couch cushion to scream through her second climax.

He pulled out, and Jenny pulled the dental dam off. This time it was Jordan that squeezed the sperm into Lucie's slit, and Mel saw that the fresh-shaven flesh was wet and dribbling, liquid running down from the soft moans down the crack of the older woman's ass. Her full, sagging breasts rose and fell as she gulped in air, and Mel guessed if she hadn't already climaxed, she was close.

"Got another one in you?" Lucie asked Mel, her voice a resonant, breathy whisper.

"I said I would," Mel said. "One more condom."

"Are you really ready?" Lucie said, one hand circling her clit, which was darker than the other women's, he noticed. "To come back to where you came from?"

Mel felt a sudden twinge of irritation. He stared at the pussy. Not sure how he should feel. Knowing he had been born from there, yet that he had not been conceived there. That his parents, his real parents, were dead. Lucie was no more than a rented room where he'd spent the first forty weeks of his life. Intellectually, he knew that. Emotionally, he felt . . . not quite anger and not quite regret. It was a pussy. Not much different from the three others he had just had sex with. Yet it felt different, as he reached for the last condom.

Molly had it.

"Can I . . . put it on?" she asked.

Mel looked a question at Lucie. The older woman, her legs drawn up on the couch so that her ass hung off the edge, the white speckle of jizz just visible in her pink slit, gave another Gallic shrug. As if to say that every duck had to learn how to swim.

"If you want," Mel said. "Just be careful. We only have the one left."

He stood there, hands behind his back, as his sister fumbled with the wrapper. She found the trick of it and held the round, thin, clear membrane in her hands. As she brought it up to press against Mel's glans, which was red and angry-looking, a white drop hanging from the puffy urethra, Jordan and Jenny knelt down on either side of her and touched her forearms. Molly froze like a roach before the shoe comes down. Yet she seemed to relax as the two gently guided her to push the condom over the tip and down the half-shrunken length.

Jordan used one finger to prop the half-flaccid cock up, so that Molly could make sure the rim was secure against the base. Then they both gently pulled her back and toward the chair.

Mel stared down at Lucie's vagina. A pussy already full of his own cum. She could already be pregnant, though Mel doubted it. Conception could take hours, even days after insemination. Even if this session worked, they wouldn't know for weeks. When Lucie would be back in Quebec, with her husband.

"It's okay, you know," Lucie said, as she reached down and spread her labia wide with both hands. Mel stared down as she worked her internal muscles, churning up the sperm. "If you need to work some feelings out. Mommy understands."

Mel wasn't hard yet. He was getting there. His girlfriends stared at him, wondering what he would do. His heart pounded in his chest, the pulse sounding in his ears. Thumb and forefinger stroked life into the soft shaft. It hadn't been long enough for him to get hard yet. Mel took his eyes away from Lucie's creamy cunt and stared into her dark eyes. The heat on his face reflected all the emotions he couldn't name. His balls ached; his prick hurt as it grew harder and harder as he stared at her sweaty breasts, the full, mature body. Tried to imagine what it would look like when pregnant again.

"You're not my mother," Mel said as he placed the base of his thumb against Lucie's clit. He stared into her eyes as his thumb began to circle, and it took all of his self-control to keep it gentle, not rough or jerky. Mel wanted Lucie to climax; he didn't want to hurt her. Pain wouldn't help her get pregnant. Her pain wouldn't make his pain any less. "You could have been, but you didn't want to be. You wanted a sperm donor. So that's what you're going to get. I never got the chance to show you I could be a good son. Now I'm going to show you I can fuck. Because that's all you ever wanted from me."

The last line came out colder than Mel wanted, and the mood in the room soured. Lucie's face changed from growing excitement to hurt.

"That's not fair. I'm not . . . you're not just a sperm donor," she said. Her voice quavered. "Do you even know what it's like to see someone that looks just like your dead lover, come back from the grave after fifteen years? Can you not appreciate how hard that is to me, to see my own daughter next to someone who is the spitting image of her father? The way she looks at you . . ."

Lucie's eyes went to Molly's, and they were bright with tears.

"You look at him the way I looked at James," Lucie said. "Is it so wrong to want to feel that again, if only for a weekend, a night, a moment? To know what it is to be filled with life again, to give myself entirely to someone else and hope . . . maybe . . . this time it will work?"

She bit her lip and turned her face away. Mel wanted to kiss the tears from her eyes. He felt an ache in his heart that was not motherly love, but may have been something more primal, the empathy of one animal for another that was in pain. There were no answers Mel could give to Lucie, no balm to soothe old wounds he had opened just by existing.

So he pushed his cock into his cum-filled cunny.

Lucie gasped . . . and Molly was there, kneeling at the edge of the couch, holding her mother's right hand in both of hers.

"Maman, je te pardonne. Je te pardonne tout. Je suis désolée. Je n'ai jamais voulu te faire de mal. Je pensais que tu m'avais enlevé mon frère. Je n'avais jamais imaginé ce que tu devais ressentir," Molly said, holding her mother's hand against her burning cheek.

It would have been a touching moment if Mel wasn't driven like a man possessed, pumping his rod in and out of that sopping cunny with the single-mindedness of a piledriver, his thumb a frantic exclamation point grinding her clit as he thrust. He could feel inside of him the empty, itching spot where three loads had boiled up. His body ached, unfamiliar muscles pushed to unfamiliar limits, and he sucked in air as he kept up a punishing pace.

Her full breasts wobbled and jiggled with each slam of his hips into her ass. His balls slapped audibly with each stroke, and her left hand groped feebly for something to hold onto as she threatened to fall off the couch cushions, the force and frantic energy of his hard, fast fucking unlike anything he had shown with his girlfriends.

Need drove Mel. Some urgent need to give Lucie what she wanted, what he wanted, what they both wanted and desired. A white froth built up around his plunging prick as her muscles coiled around him, striving to take the hard pounding. Slick as she was from the masturbation and cunnilingus, the older woman had not in any way been prepared to take an 18-year-old venting fifteen years of frustration on her poor pussy in a single sustained sexual episode.

Then Jordan and Jenny were there, holding Lucie's legs. Rachel climbed onto the couch and grabbed Lucie's hand and held her shoulder. The older woman was pinned in place, unable to escape Mel's pile-driver pump that seemed to slam as deep into her as he could with every desperate thrust, that aching need growing and growing behind the root of him, balls striving to generate enough for one final impregnating pulse.

Lucie and Mel's eyes met, and her face cracked into a grin of such pure carnal pleasure that Mel's pace almost faltered. It was as if she was reliving some moment of more than twenty years ago, when her husband waited in the living room as his wife and her lover slammed the headboards of the bed into the wall, locked in a moment that he could never experience, to give her something that he could not give her.

Mel didn't blame Mr. Maguire for how he had felt after. He somehow doubted they would be friends after this night either.

The older woman screamed first. Her pussy tightened impossibly, and her nails dug into Molly and Rache's hands as a slow electric burst emanated from her clenched cunny and made its way throughout her body. For a moment, Lucie seemed like she didn't breathe; her eyes rolled up into the back of her head, and then her mouth opened, and she vented a guttural exhalation from the very core of her being.

Mel kept pounding. His strength was flagging, the pace was telling, and his raging hardon was nearing its limits after ejaculating so many times in short succession. Before he was ready, he felt the tickle, the leak, then the agonizing slow travel of the fresh seed up the ragged channel. When it burst out to fill the sperm reservoir at the tip of the condom, it was less a thick rope than a kind of endless burning dribble, Mel's hips moving on their own, internal muscles straining to get out every single drop.

Lucie's pussy was a mess when Mel pulled out. A creamy white froth, splattered over the edges, dribbling down onto the towels. Mel remembered they still hadn't done laundry yet, and he was glad of it. They would need to wash damn near everything in the apartment before he could have a clean towel for a shower.

He pulled off the condom himself. It wasn't as full or thick as the first three, but it was the freshest. Jenny and Jordan reached over and pulled the older woman's labia wide, so that Mel could empty it out inside of her. Mel stared for a long moment at the cream-filled mess where he himself had come from, eighteen years and almost three months ago.

"Dental dam," he said, knowing they had one left. Jordan let go of Lucie's leg to fetch it. The older woman panted, staring at him without comprehension.

"What? You don't have to—" she began.

Mel carefully stretched the thin sheet over the messy muff.

"I know," he said softly. "But I want to."

He couldn't taste her through the oral barrier. Yet he could smell their mingled fluids. Feel the heat that radiated through the thin latex. Mel pressed his lips hard against her clit and sucked until he heard Lucie's sharp intake of breath. Someone's hand, perhaps Rachel's, combed through his hair.

"He's always been like this, you know," Rache said, voice tired. "Considerate. Empathetic. I think it's because he knows what it's like to be unsatisfied. He doesn't like to leave any of us wanting."

Mel pressed his tongue against the barrier, which seemed to outline the labia. He could almost feel the warm, wet mess that was his own splooge in the opening to her vaginal canal. Yet he focused most of his attention on her clitoris, sucking, licking, circling with tongue and lips, not afraid to press his face close against her crotch.

Lucie's breath grew faster. More than a pant. There was a soft whine in the back of her throat. Hips shifting, trying to rub herself against his face.

"One day," Rache said. "When we're both ready, he's going to breed me. I want it. I really want it. Want to feel him empty himself into me with that terrible intensity. Want to feel his need, his desire, to have all of me, and leave a part of himself behind. That's part of the reason I was okay with this. Because right now, this is as close as I can get to feeling that. By proxy."

A little cry. Old thighs turning inwards to clamp against Mel's face. He raised his eyes to see Rache's finger playing with Lucie's navel.

"If we're honest," Rache said. "I think we're all a little jealous."