Hypergeniture Bk. 01 Pt. 00

For a brief moment, I had the sense to worry about how Tash might react as Sian freed my erection and it rubbed against the inside of her thigh. But she only wanted to hold me, making a sound I'd never heard from her before. It came from her throat: It purred, growled and groaned... It was a moan, punctuated by a sharp inhalation, followed by a hum that came from her trembling throat.

My now naked legs were exposed to the touch of the Welsh girl knelt beside them, but she was careful not to rush. She sailed up along my body and popped the button of her blazer to reveal her black bra. Her breasts were rounded, not modest, and their partial exposure drew both me and my cousin's attention. We drank in the sight of the model-like torso, and Tash sent an exploratory hand up along the other woman's stomach. It was like Sian had her under a spell, and soon my cousin released me to take a step back and admire the topless brunette.

I don't know how Natasha felt about women in general — about making love to them, kissing them, touching them... This woman nourished curiousity and it was that curiosity that saw my cousin arch forward, tug on the bra, and take one of Sian's firm nipples between her soft lips. At this, the Welsh beauty's tongue curled to pronounce a sound of satisfaction, but she was also quick to take her new lover's head in her hands and guide her away.

"Let's work together on this giant... Cock," she said with a kiss instead of a full stop.

Tash nodded and the two women broke apart to take up new positions. They were on either side of me, with my cousin following Sian's lead, sinking to her knees.

I didn't think she'd be so quick or so keen.

I oozed pre-cum as Natasha wrapped her fingers around my shaft. Her touch was firmer than I expected, and the way her eyes looked up at me... The way they saw me see her and saw me love her...

I no longer felt like I was standing inside a room, a building, a city. No, I existed in a space that consisted only of her and me, and then she touched the tip of her tongue to me — making a little more precum spill from the sensitive tip of my cock. Her tongue retreated. She swallowed. Then, the look on her face turned to profound curiosity, indecision, followed by resolution.

My cousin's hand began stroking me while Sian brushed any stray hairs behind her ears. She prepared Tash for what came next, helping us cross another obstacle. Understanding this, my cousin waited until she was ready. Until I could see her chin and cheeks, delicate nose, beautiful eyes, and the tiny beads of nervous sweat on her forehead. Her lips returned to my cock, and this time, they wrapped around it.

She wanted to get past the reluctance. Fast.

I felt my cousin's mouth grind against my skin — their shape a ring that provided an unyielding pressure. I felt the inside of her mouth, the base of her tongue, the entrance to her throat... Then, I felt her surrender to it all, as she reached a certain point, pulled back, then pushed herself forward again. I was stretching her mouth wide open — testing her limits — but this didn't phase her. She started sucking me off with eyes closed, adding her hand, alternating to her tongue and dragging it along the length of my shaft before taking me again. The sounds she made were half-gags and hums as the act of blowing her cousin provided challenge and delight.

Watching her struggle to take me was its own high — this beautiful family member of mine making me feel big and strong and confident.

I was loving the feeling of her lips wrapped around me and her tongue guiding me in and out of her mouth, but I wanted something more. I wanted her pussy and the way I kept her head steady with my hands told her that this pace would have me cumming far too soon.

She broke our contact. Gasping for air.

With her neck arched back — her eyes shut tight — Natasha breathed like her lungs had been drowned by desire. The sight of spit running down her lipsticked lips and onto her chin almost knocked me off my feet!

Sian was delighted. "Fuck. That was perfect. But we need to do more... You need to do more."

Tash and I nodded, agreeing and wanting to take things further as I stepped back, crashing onto the bed.

My cousin stumbled in my direction, first trying to find her feet before settling on a crawl as she approached my stiff cock. I laid back and felt her press down on my thighs to make her way up my body. As she moved, I felt every part of her legs under the sheer fabric of her pantyhose, as her cocktail dress rode up.

Inhaling, I gripped my cousin's ass and squeezed in a way I'd have never dared before that night.

Perfect. Strange. Strange, but perfect.

Firm and without flaws; sublime to hold and sink my fingers into the soft cushions. Natasha's body had been sculpted by daily walking of wards and the occasional trip to the gym.

Her trembling hands tore away at the buttons of my shirt, opening me up and trailing down my bare chest. Shorter than me, Tash's lips dragged along my exposed skin as she tried to align her pelvis with mine. The feeling of her warm mouth breathing against my chest was more satisfying than I ever thought it could be. She left a curious kiss on my nipple, probably to see if I'd react the same way as Sian had earlier.

The Welsh woman helped align our bodies. Gripping my cousin's pantyhose, she tore the fabric and parted any obstructive underwear.

I began to feel my cock slip between my cousin's thighs, then touch the folds of her pussy. It was insanity, but not insanity that I would make a show of resisting.

This is what we always wanted (even if we'd only realised it that night).

With Tash on top — sinking her body down onto my rock-hard shaft — my doubts faded. Inch-by-inch, I let her tightness take hold of me until she found a spot to settle. Straightening herself so she was upright, she ran a hand through her hair and smiled at me with shyness and sincerity that eased our hearts. Her teeth sank into her lip and at the same time, she moved her hips. Up. Down.

I knew I was big, thick... I'd been told that, but now I could feel it. Stretching her out made me feel incredible — made me feel like I owned my cousin's pussy like I was always meant to.

Natasha moaned as she began riding my cock. Her body twisted and turned and I felt the extreme pleasure of being inside her. As she moved a little faster, she leaned forward to buttress herself. Then, having stabilised, she moved faster still. Faster. More determined. More sure of what we were doing. Sure that she wanted to do it — wanted me inside her and wanted to ride my cock. I loved the way her skin clapped against mine, the way her pussy wrapped around me, the way she moved... I started moving my pelvis in concert with hers and suddenly felt an urge.

I gripped my cousin's hips as she pressed down harder on me.

I started fucking her: My blood, my best friend and now my lover. The feeling of my cock parting her lips and stretching her pussy — hitting her limit — was too much for the both of us. I saw the white of Tash's teeth as she grinned in delight, and we both started slamming into each other even harder. Even faster.

Slap! Slap! Slap!

The wonderful sound of two bodies colliding.

Fuck the implications! I wanted to cum inside her and she knew it from the way I was hammering away. She must've wanted the same...

"Fuck, Olly, I'm gonna cum... Fuck. Oh... Fuck!!!"

The feeling of a quivering body in my hands — of a pussy in the midst of a sexual eruption — drove me over the edge. I thrust up and she pushed down and our bodies met with me embedded deep inside her. As we felt every contraction, expansion, pulse and percussion of the other, I filled my cousin with blasts of cum as she dripped sweat and satisfaction.

Our bodies shifted. My hard cock was released from Natasha's loving vice grip and she rolled over to meet me in a snug cuddle. As we hugged each other closer, our almost forgotten third partner began crawling over the bed; removing clothes from all present until we were naked. Once done, she made herself cosy on my other side.

Whispering in her distinct Welsh tone, Sian complimented us. She told us how much she'd loved watching as our exhausted minds and bodies drifted away with dreams of a new future.

Sin and sex. Deviance and transgression.

02 • Conditioning

"Do you know how weird this thing is?" Alicia quizzed, pointing to the big white box.

Isabelle was a bundle of nerves and in no mood for chit-chat as she carefully handled a wrapped firearm. "It's an air-conditioner. What's so strange about it?"

"They just don't have them here. First one I've seen since living in the country."

"This is a weird house," Isabelle pointed out, gesturing to the strange opulence of the room they were in. She unwrapped the handgun and pulled back the slide for the hundredth time to make sure it was clear. The thing looked to be the genuine article, but she still didn't trust the guys who sold it to her.

Alicia grabbed the empty weapon and felt its weight in her hand. "I wish you'd bought a SIG instead."

"Oh, fuck off! Do you know how hard it was to get this thing?" Isabelle scoffed, snatching the gun from the woman who was technically her boss.

She'd spent two weeks trying to procure the pistol through shady channels and wasn't in the mood for complaints. Lurking around with crooks, she would cling to the cross pendant her mother had brought into America from Mexico — uncomfortable with giving money to horrible men.

Alicia apologised for being glib as her stoic nature slowly took hold of her nerves. She'd been uncharacteristically chatty: A side effect of being shit-scared or scared shitless, Isabelle thought.

"I don't even know why we need this thing. You'd swear we were protecting some gangster or a defector from a dictatorship."

"He's at high risk," Alicia defended.

"According to who? Not one of the half-dozen security firms on contract to protect him..."

"According to me. I'm his security agent, after all."

Isabelle shrugged, taking a full magazine and sliding it into the handgun before chambering a round. "You don't work for him yet," she reminded. "You think you do, but you never have... Not until everything is settled."

Alicia pursed her lips and carefully considered her next words. "We don't know what's coming," she said. "We don't know what happened to the old principal and we don't know what awaits the new principal."

"The old principal tripped and fell."

"Bullshit! She wasn't some old lady who couldn't find her way to the bathroom."

Both women took a deep breath as the tension rose in the room. The air-conditioner their deceased former boss insisted on having was the only noise. Soft and gentle; an unnatural breeze that cooled the atmosphere in more ways than one.

Isabelle understood her colleague's fears. When she left the police to go private, she didn't expect more danger. The thought of her protectee dying was unimaginable, accident or not. Being paranoid was to be expected. Still, the gun seemed like overkill. Sure, they usually carried them in other countries but it seemed unnecessary in London.

"You must not have confidence in your judo," Isabelle joked. "Only reason I can think of for you making me buy this damn thing."

"Judo?" Alicia smirked. "I'm a krav maga girl. Now, go put that thing in the glovebox and straighten your tie. We've got a busy day ahead."

"Excited to finally meet him?"

"Gun. Car. Go." Alicia dismissed with a smile that answered her colleague's question. A smile she'd work hard to hide for weeks to come...

03 • Excalibur Pull

My ringtone startled me to life as its familiar staccato invaded every corner of the room. It was hardly 6 AM, and seeing my little sister's name on the screen made me panic.

"Tecla? What's up? Why are you phoning so early? Is Mom—"

"Chill out, Olly," my sister sighed. "I just can't sleep... You know?"

I took a deep breath and reoriented myself. Beside me in bed, my cousin was still softly snoring after our night ended in fireworks. There was no sign of Sian anywhere in the room, but that was expected.

Still, I didn't think she'd leave before the sun was up.

I walked to the thick curtains that shielded the room from the outside world, looking down on the streetlights. There was no sign of the Welsh girl, but two men in black coats walked up and down the road. They gave me the creeps, so I closed the curtain.

Tired as all hell, I couldn't help but smile as I brought my attention back to my sister.

Starting in her teens, Tecla often struggled to switch off at the end of a day. Since she shared a room with her twin, she couldn't exactly sit with the lights on and read a book. So, she would sneak into the living room, where she would almost always find me. Like her, I often found myself tossing and turning in bed with far too much energy left after even the busiest of days. It was the only time we ever got to talk, play video games, tell jokes... During the day, she was another person entirely — far too cool for her big brother — but at night, she was herself.

"How will you ever get to sleep once I move out?" I teased.

Even over the phone, I could sense my sister roll her eyes. "Dude, if you move out, Elle and I will be moving with you. That's a given, and besides, Mom is—"

"Don't worry about Mom."

"Ugh," my sister groaned. "Why can't it just be the three of us? You, me, Elle..."

As my sister continued, Tash stirred beside me. In her most-English accent, she gurgled, "Who is that? Can you shu'p? Tryna sleep!"

"Olly," Tecla paused. "Is that...? Where are you?"

"In my hotel room... I mean..." I swallowed hard as I realised that I'd given the game away.

I could picture my sister's face by listening to the speechless sounds from the other end of the line. She was shocked, no doubt, but I detected more than a trace of glee in her voice. "Duuude! You slept with our cousin?! That's insane!"

"Fuck," I mouthed. "It wasn't planned."

"I can't imagine that it was," Tecla giggled. "All I can think about is all the times you said she's 'like a sister' to you—"

"No... Uhh... That's not..." I stammered for five minutes, trying to explain myself. Tecla listened, breaking into sly laughter here and there. In a way, it was a relief (considering the alternative was her being disgusted by what I'd done).

"Dude, you are the best human on the planet!" my sister declared, clearly entertained by my story. "Don't worry, I'm not going to tell Elle about this unless you want."

"Maybe it's for the best that you tell her," I conceded. Asking one of my sisters to keep a secret from the other would be a bad idea.

"Cool! She's gonna be pissed, but I'll smooth it over," Tecla beamed. "Now, get back to cousin-fucking or whatever it is they do down where you are."

I shook my head. "G'night, Tec."

"Night, Bro..."

I didn't hang up immediately. Instead, I waited, sensing that there was still something on my sister's mind. "Do you love me?" she asked.

"Of course," I replied. "I love you with all my heart."

"I'm glad. I love you too."

We ended our call with me sending my sister off to bed.

Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I checked my overnight notifications. It was a habit — a bad one — which usually saw me scrolling past countless nonsense reminders. But there was an email among all the rubbish, and it woke me right up.

The managing partner of my firm, Mr Singh, had contacted me directly.

Mr Orwell,

Kindly schedule a time to see me. I am in London and have cleared my agenda to ensure that we find an opportunity as soon as possible.

• • •

As she woke up, all I could offer my cousin was some weak tea made using the kettle in the room. Her eyes were grateful and unbelieving as I approached her with the steaming cup. I didn't have any regrets about what had happened.

It didn't look like she had any either.

Still, there was something mournful in the way we spoke about the day that lay ahead. It's as if we'd both decided that one night was enough, even though we wanted more...

My mind filed away the whole situation with Tash as I focused on the email I'd received. Its arrival in my inbox was almost as strange as the events of the night before. After all, I'd never even passed Mr Singh in a hallway, let alone had a private audience with the man. He was opaque on purpose, so I feared whatever it was that might've caused him to seek me out.

The day before, I'd been pulled from the Wharry Estate. Then, I thought it was an ordinary reprioritisation of staff. Now, I wondered what I could've possibly done wrong.

Digging through the pile of clothes we'd left behind the night before, I found a pen. "Must be Sian's," I remarked, but Tash wasn't listening. It was the same pen I saw her wield like a weapon the night before — her poet's pen, though I never confirmed what she'd been scribbling. I pocketed the expensive-looking object in the strange hope I'd see the Welsh girl ever again before I got dressed in my best suit and greeted my cousin.

"Are you going to stick around?" I asked.

"I have a shift."

"Will I see you later?"

Tash shrugged. "How will this ever work? We can't be two things at once..."

"It'll work," I declared confidently. My cousin's face briefly lit up with a smile, but I saw it fade as doubts surfaced again.

Natasha wished me luck, but we parted with neither a hug nor a kiss. It was like we'd reset to zero.

As I said, there was something even bigger on my mind. My job was everything: my ticket to getting Elle, Tecla, and even our mother out of the hole that fate had dug for us. Despite my fancy schools, we were dead broke. My sisters had big dreams, and I was determined to make those dreams come true...

I still hadn't received a time for my appointment and decided to head down the road to an over-priced coffee shop. Walking out of the hotel, a large man who seemed vaguely recognisable stepped in front of me. For a second, I thought I would have to square up or hand over my wallet, but he was a little too well dressed to be a mugger.

"Mr Orwell?"

"Yes?"

The man broke into a smile and waved at a waiting Range Rover. "We are here to take you to your meeting, sir."

"My meeting?"

"With Mr Singh."

"Oh... Okay," I conceded, unsure of what was going on but accepting that compliance was the only option.

Following the man's lead, he opened the passenger door of the SUV for me. The driver greeted me as the man from the street went to sit beside him. They looked like a serious pair... Security men, no doubt, but unlike any I'd seen at our firm before. We drove in silence, with the two not making any effort at small talk. Maybe I should've asked for their names. Or, maybe I just shouldn't get in a car with strangers. Still, we seemed to be heading in the 'right' direction, and I recognised the building we pulled up at.

Pellinore International was the magnum opus of the deceased Elizabeth Wharry. She had built many businesses in many fields, but Pellinore was the behemoth that defined her reputation: A conglomerate with stakes in almost every sector of the economy. There was no doubting the power and scale of the enterprise and its influence over the commercial world of London.

Walking through the doors of their Canary Wharf offices, I could feel that the place was special. The predominantly female workforce carried themselves with pride, soldiering on after the untimely death of their icon.

She'd fallen down some stairs. The richest woman in Europe and she dies falling down some stairs at the early age of sixty-five...

Once out of the car, I was left to my own devices and approached the front desk. Explaining who I was, I was led upstairs by a friendly receptionist while a secretary or some-such followed. The latter woman was a bit odd and I didn't quite understand her purpose. She didn't utter a word, nor was she ever really close enough for me to take a crack at breaking the ice. No, she just hovered around at a short distance; her presence subtle yet unmissable. There was also something else — something about the way she looked.