She waited for you.

On Prince Edward Island, a colony of Rhizomats has been growing for nearly a decade. Humans on the island were initially hostile to the new neighbors, but the Rhizomats' unique architectural embellishments and integration into the local ecosystem have proved a boon to tourism. While resistance to other ETs remains high, the PEI Rhizomats have attained a level of local identity and acceptance—nor is their case unique. While prejudice against ET remains high among humans, especially in rural areas, exceptions are often made for established enclaves. Humans are very adaptable that way.
—Anaïs Nineveh, The Exodus: A History, Chapter 5

Rachel swayed slightly. Wiping her palms on her jeans. Goosebumps visible on her skin. Biting her lower lip. Jordan, opposite her, lay still and calm, a little color in her pale cheeks, nipples slightly tenting the fabric of her hoodie that hung open, barely concealing them from view. The two sisters made a contrast, arrayed thus: both tall, blonde, but Jordan was thinner, spindlier, and the brain slug on her neck pulsed in quick anticipation. Rache was softer, fuller, but also more expressive; Mel could see the earnest flush of her cheeks, the way her nostrils flared and how she swayed back and forth.

"Did you want privacy?" Mel asked. "You can go into the bedroom, close the door."

"No, it isn't that. I don't mind you watching; it's just I'm not sure where to go from here," she said, glancing at Mel. Her Ottawa Valley accent was never thicker. "I mean, we've kissed and touched, but only with you involved, and we've never gone further than that. I'm not . . . not sure how to start making love to another woman."

Mel, on the couch, stared up at her.

"Kiss her," he suggested. "Kiss her like you love her."

"Yes. Right. A kiss," Rache said.

One nervous step forward, Jordan not retreating a centimeter. Their heads tilted in opposite directions. Just a little, just enough so that their noses wouldn't collide with each other. Lips half-parted. Mel didn't see the moment their tongues touched. Yet he saw Rachel's eyes close as their lips met, saw the movement of jaws and cheeks as they slowly explored one another. Mel, seated on the couch next to Jenny, felt a stir inside of himself. Not the sick, guilty thrill of watching something forbidden, but a kind of mingled longing and satisfaction. As if he had waited for this moment for a long time, but still wanted more.

"Take off her hoodie, Rachel," Mel said, as his tip pushed past his belt buckle.

Rachel did. Her hands came up to Jordan's shoulders, and she slipped the grey hoodie with its Cosmic Fill-Up sigil off and let it fall to the floor. Without waiting for a suggestion, Jordan's hands came around her sister to undo the latch of her bra. Jenny unbuttoned Mel's pants as the black cups slid off the bare breasts, and Mel could see now that both sisters' pink nipples were stiff, swollen.

"Touch her, Rachel," Mel said. "Put your hands on her. They're just breasts. Feel them. You know what feels good to you, so you know what to do to make her feel good, too."

She hesitated. Then Jordan raised her own hands. Gently, she began to stroke Rachel's forearms. Slowly, Rachel raised her arms. A flush had spread across both their faces now, a crimson blush that went straight to their ears, and their lips were locked, tongues wrestling. Rachel's hands found Jordan's and squeezed gently, just hard enough to make the brain slug host's knees begin to bend. Then, with a suddenness that surprised them all, Rachel wrapped her arms around Jordan, clasping her buttocks and pulling her up.

Jordan leaped, legs locked around her sister's waist, and the younger sister staggered and spread her legs under the load. Jenny's hand gripped the thickest part of Mel's shaft, her thumb rubbing the head, but her human eyes were fixed on the two locked together before them.

"Why don't you take her into the bedroom?" Mel said, voice suddenly thick.

Rachel did that, though by the time she was halfway there, she was sweating, her arms were shaking, and Jordan was starting to hump aggressively, legs flexing as she rubbed herself against the top of her sister's pants.

Mel and Jenny were not far behind; the brain slug host still in her hoodie, Mel having ditched his pants and carried the chair in with him. He set that against the wall as Rachel carefully laid her sister on the edge of the bed. Jordan, still not smiling, but red-faced and with nipples like two ripe berries, sat and undid Rachel's pants, pulling pants and panties down with one movement.

Rache still didn't know what to do. Mel licked his lips. He leaned against the wall as Jenny sat, one hand slowly stroking Mel as she focused on the action on the bed. Half-remembered scenes of lesbian action from art history books danced through his mind. Positions he wasn't sure were real or just the fervent imagination of some old sculptor or painter. He thought about what he would do if he didn't have a prick.

Jordan had ideas, though. She spread her legs wide, leaning back, eyes fixed on her sister. The small black head of the brain slug peeked around her neck, sensory tentacles extended.

"See how wet she is with your hand," he told Rache. "Is she warm?"

The blonde human placed her hand over her sister's smooth-shaven mons. Rache was breathing harder now. Almost instinctively, one finger touched the hood of her sister's clit.

"Hot," Rache said. "She's so hot."

"So are you," Mel said, earnestly. "Rub her a little."

Rachel's hand moved. Not trying to drive a finger into her sister's slit. Just rubbing the clit with the soft pads of her fingers. Jordan's eyes went wider. Her hips began to buck as her sister rubbed faster.

"You see? She's feeling good," Mel said, as Jenny's thumb ran over and over the ridge of his swollen helmet. "She wants you to feel good too, Rache. Get on the bed. Let her touch you, too."

Jordan scooted back as Rache climbed onto the queen-sized bed. When was the last time the two sisters had been on the same mattress? Mel didn't know. He did know that their eyes were locked on each other, a strange excitement evident in their movements. Rache couldn't stop smiling, and the flush had spread down her neck. It was the brain slug host that took the lead, slipping onto her side, right leg extended, left leg raised, her hairless slit bare.

An invitation.

"Mirror her movement," Mel said. "You see? She wants the two of you to kiss down there."

Rachel caught the idea. She set herself up opposite Jordan on the bed—left leg straight, right leg raised—and began to inch closer to each other. Until, at last, their labia touched. Flushed lower lips meeting, rubbing, frotting together in an obscene sister's kiss, each woman working to rub their sensitive clits against each other, bodies locked in a strange, sensual sideways dance that was nothing like the times Mel had penetrated them. It was something closer, more intimate, and when Rachel tossed back her head and moaned, a shiver ran down his spine that made Jordan clamp her hand tightly around the base of him, to pinch off any early eruption.

As Jenny slid onto her knees before him, Rachel and Jordan tribbed. Mel had never quite grasped the concept, but he saw it now. The pelvises didn't smash against each other; they sought the right placement, the right rhythm, so that they could move together, hips rising in time, breath coming in shorter gasps. Rachel took the lead, almost sitting up, grasping Jordan's leg and shifting her hips.

"Tell her," Mel said, as Jenny's tongue circled the tip of his shaft. "Tell her what it feels like, what you're feeling."

"It's good. Different. I need it. I need to cum. I've been so afraid to do this, but you feel so fucking hot," Rachel said, lips quivering. Hot tears trickled down from the corners of the woman's eyes as she spoke to her brain-slug-possessed sister. "I want to feel you cum!"

None of them did, right at that moment. Yet three of them were getting close. Jordan's face was placid, but her slug was pulsing faster, nostrils flaring, and her breath came in little pants. She reached up to grasp Rachel's breast as the frotting grew faster, more frantic, both women speeding toward a release that they both needed.

It was Rachel who gave a strangled cry. Head thrown back, the bandage on her neck falling off to reveal a blue light leaking through the skin. Her eyes rolled in her head, and she collapsed on the bed. Mel burst in Jenny's mouth, shocked and half-alarmed, almost doubled over from the intensity of the unexpected ejaculation. J

Jordan, for her part, swiftly disengaged from the tangle of limbs and drew herself up to sit on her sister's face. Even in her post-climax dissipation, Rachel grabbed Jordan's ass with both hands and latched onto her sister's clit with shocking eagerness. Mel gave a groan, rope after sticky rope hitting the roof of Jenny's mouth as he watched Jordan's thighs quiver and shake, the older sister experiencing her own orgasm.

Mel panted and leaned against the wall as Jenny smacked her lips. She looked up at him. No words to communicate, but Mel could do the math.

"Sit on the edge of the bed," he said, helping her up. "I'll get you off."

Jenny's leg slid over Mel's shoulder as, on his hands and knees, he ran his tongue up her slit. The sisters, half-collapsed from their exertions, noticed. Mel heard them make their way over to her as he traced Jenny's inner labia. Heard the soft kisses, the wet sounds of suckling at nipples, and wondered, vaguely, who was doing what to whom.

It didn't really matter. He had his own work to do. Until Jenny's thighs squeezed against his head and her hips thrust, rubbing against his face, and, finally, a tap-tap-tapping at the top of his head told him he had done enough for one night.

There was a line at the sink to brush teeth, and then various people needed to use the bathroom. By mutual agreement, Mel and Rachel changed the sheets on the bed, which would need washing. Rachel looked at the bandage for a moment before tossing it in the trash. Mel could see the livid pink line of the incision, but the blue pearl was no longer glowing so brightly, though he could see it beneath the skin when he looked for it.

"Feel better?" he asked, as they set the pillows back.

"I do. Does that seem weird?" Rache said. "Like, all my life this was a huge taboo. I didn't even really think of it until after I saw her again, with you. I think it's taken me this long to see her as a woman, not just my sister. Now we've done it, and I'm not sure how I should feel. Like, God isn't striking me down. Nobody knows, except you three. It feels like I spent weeks fighting these urges and being guilty about it all for nothing."

"I don't think it's for nothing," Mel said. "I think you just needed time. Jordan gave you that. And I think she wanted it to. She waited for you. Didn't press you beyond what you were comfortable with."

Rachel smiled and gave Mel a hug. He hugged her back.

"That was the first time I've heard you really take control and give direction since you helped Amelia give birth," Rachel said. "Is there a reason you don't do that more often?"

Mel considered, one hand petting her hair. "I guess I don't really want to be like Antonio. Trying to force myself on people. Prefer it to be mutual."

Rache snorted. "Well, I thought it was hot. Remember what Jordan and Jenny said during that first meeting? They want to be used. Maybe . . . I wouldn't mind being used a little too. So don't be afraid to be a little proactive."

Mel grinned. "Okay. Though I think we've all had enough fun for one night."

"Is it okay if I sleep over tonight?" she asked, still in his arms. "It might be a bit crowded on the bed, but I don't want to be alone tonight."

"I'm sure we can make it work," Mel said.

So Rachel did, squeezing in next to her sister, Mel between Jordan and Jenny.

It seemed like such a good idea at the time.