One Night in St Jean - Pour nos Péchés

Indeed, as their intermeshed scents drifted by my nose, I found myself wondering why had I been hesitating?

Jeanne's full breasts swung back and forth under her as the blonde's head bobbed and rocked up and down over her pussy. Jeanne's head was down and I couldn't see her expression, but Corine had her eyes closed. I let go of Marylise with one hand and found I was close enough to Corine to reach her pussy. Her eyes flew open at the unexpected sensation. She stopped her ministrations long enough to turn to me with a smile, then dropped back into Jeanne.

Marylise had a broad smile of approval on her face. "You're so good, Félix," she whispered and began to rock just a little faster, leaning downwards to bring her lush nipples within reach of my mouth.

Careful not to stop teasing and pleasing Corine, I began to lick and nibble at Marylise's opulent boobs. I could feel her inner muscles clench in pleasure and stepped up my efforts.

Between the three of them, the sexual odour was flooding the room. I had never been so horny -- so unfulfilled, silly as that sounds now.

I could heard Jeanne begin to cry out in a language I couldn't understand. My fingers slid deeply into Corine's wet warmth. I twisted and turned them inside her, began rolling her love bud under my thumb.

Marylise sped up her rhythm and, before leaving Corine, I gently pinched her clit between thumb and forefinger. That was all it took; giving a low cry, she fell back on the bed, leaving Jeanne behind. Undaunted, the latter curled up in a cross-legged position beside us and began working her own pleasure bud with her fingers.

With both hands, I grasped Marylise's lovely butt and started to lunge upwards to meet her hips' movements. She sat up, pulling her boobs away from my lips and started to bounce up and down on my length. Her breasts bounced with her; I reached up to capture them, rolling her nipples between thumb and forefingers. She closed her eyes, quivered, rocked.

She opened her eyes and looked down at me. The smile on her face was amazing. With amazing PC control, she gave me a mighty squeeze. It was all it took and I came again, hot, burning.

"Six," she whispered softly, falling across my chest.

I lay under her, panting. Surely this would be enough.

The other two moved to come into my field of view, looked at each other.

"Is it not time?" Corine asked.

"Time?" the other two chorused.

"I feel guilty each time we do this," she whispered.

Jeanne and Marylise looked shocked, then angry.

"Hush!" Jeanne hissed.

"I will not! How long can we continue this farce?"

Still buried in Marylise, still hard, I looked from one to the next to the third.

Jeanne shrugged. Her breasts almost rippled as she did.

"What does it matter, I guess?" she said thoughtfully. "Who will believe him?"

Marylise began to move over me again. Corine's hand came over to rest on her shoulder. "No. If you want to do this, do not distract him. Tell him, sister."

"Sister?" I echoed. Apart from their impossible beauty, the three had nothing in common.

"We are all sisters, of a sort," Corine said, looking at me.

"Félix..." Jeanne began. She leaned down and kissed me lightly before rising and closing her eyes as if thinking.

"Félix, what would you say if I told you that we are not... not quite... as you know women?"

My eyes were again locked on hers.

"I know that already," I said. "Too pretty for words. And what did I..." She cut me off.

"You misunderstand, Félix. We are, shall we say, more than human."

"Aliens?" I joked, knowing by now that these three were not from another planet.

"No, nothing like that," Corine said, giggling back.

Jeanne, always the more serious of the three, waved the other two back. Marylise pulled herself off me as Jeanne folded herself by my side. The look on Jeanne's face was one of thoughtful concentration.

"Let's just say that we are members of a group which tends to keep to itself, Félix. We have been doing so for a very long time."

"Religious?" I guessed.

"No, nothing like that. It's a bit more complex."

"Tell me."

She sighed. "It would take too long."

"Can you try?"

The three of them looked at each other. Some invisible signal must have passed, for Jeanne, a sad expression on her face, turned back to me. "We cannot, Félix."

She laid a soft hand on my chest. "We cannot explain in detail," she repeated, "but rest assured that we pose no threat to you."

Corine butted in. "Let's just say that a group of people decided, a very long time ago, that there had to be a better way, Félix. The world was in turmoil -- nation against nation, religion against religion. Rank could not prevent such conflict -- kings were being killed and deposed regularly. Money could not, for becoming rich merely made one a target."

"And that," Marylise continued, "was as far as most people of the time saw it -- power could protect you, allow you to do what you wished, but the only way to obtain power was through rank or money. The problem was that both of those made you visible and being visible made you vulnerable."

"And so," Corine took over, "our ancestors tried to find another way, to find power without becoming visible."

"They succeeded," Jeanne took over, giving in. "They had some stumbles at first, but they got better each time, until..."

"How?" I interrupted.

Corine looked at me. Her head fell to one shoulder, meditatively. "Let me use a sports analogy, Félix. Since the dawn of time, individuals, clans, tribes, nations and businesses have been boxers, winning via physical force and toughness. They may form gangs in the form of alliances or business conglomerates and they may use money as a weapon, but always it's power they seek and power they depend on. Call it diplomacy, call it financial genius, call it military strategy - it's all about the use of power.

"Instead, our ancestors developed, if you will, a power-based Judo or Aikido, forms which in the physical sense use and guide the opponent's own power to achieve the desired outcome."

Marylise smiled. "To be able to use somebody else's power for one's own ends is, of course, the ultimate power."

"And, with that," Jeanne said dryly, more to the other women than to me, "the lesson ends." Insofar as such beauty could look sullen, her companions did.

"No!" I protested. "It doesn't make sense. I sense a weakness in that, no matter how powerful you have made yourselves."

"We are small in numbers," the blonde woman said, ignoring Jeanne. "Deliberately so."

"One of the problems with a small population is genetics," Marylise continued. "Even for us, even for our advances in that field -- and we are passionate about it - inbreeding could become an issue. We would not allow this to happen."

"Tell him the truth," Jeanne said, her voice heavy.

"We just did," the other two replied. I could see they were shocked by the implication of her command.

"The whole truth."

The other two pouted. Corine looked stern, Marylise reached for a sheet and covered herself. "Such information is not..."

"Tell him!" Jeanne insisted.

"No," the other two said in unison.

"Then I will. He can prove nothing; I will ensure he remembers nothing." Turning to me, she continued.

"You are an educated man," Jeanne said. "How much genetics do you know?"

"A little," I said, then corrected, "Not all that much."

"Are you familiar with the theory that Queen Victoria caused the Russian Revolution?"

"The one concerning haemophilia? The bleeder disease, passed through the female line? What was it called -- Christmas disease?"

She smiled, obviously impressed. "Very good! Victoria, being the world's most powerful monarch at the time, had married her children and grandchildren into royal houses across Europe, taking the deficient factor IX gene with them."

"And one of her grandsons... Alex, was it? was the Russian heir."

"Great-grandson," she corrected me, "And a haemophiliac. The Tsarina, terrified of losing him to any trivial injury, gave enormous and eventually much-resented influence to Rasputin, a scoundrel who claimed he could cure the boy."

"Hence the revolution," I said, finishing both my historical and scientific knowledge.

"It's a lesson any isolated minority needs to take very seriously," Marylise said, her face solemn. I could have sworn that I saw a tear in the corner of one eye.

There was a long pause.

Jeanne took a deep breath, let it out in a long, sad sigh. "Inbreeding has already hit us, Félix" she said. "It lurks in the male line -- all of it. As a consequence, we have been forced to adopt, shall we say, an uncommon but certainly not unprecedented model."

"You mean...?" I started to interrupt.

"Yes. Xenogeniture. Our men are not allowed children. For courtesy's sake, lineage is accounted through the husband, but reproduction is limited to Outsider males."

"Hence," I said, "Saint Anne." My mother had been religious. I knew a bit about the local saints.

"Saint Anne, indeed! Patron saint not only of this province, but also of women wishing to conceive." She smiled mischievously, "Not to mention a name to be invoked for protection from storms."

I saw the joke, chuckled with her, then stopped as the implication of that hit me.

"But," I said, "that doesn't account for..."

Her lovely brow furled, as if trying to remember.

"Ah! The glass?"

Suddenly afraid, I merely nodded. "That and, let's be honest, your beauty."

All three dimpled slightly at that.

"Félix," she said gently, as if trying to explain something very complex to a young child, "Félix, when the problem started to become apparent, we became, of necessity, a society of geneticists."

"Along the way," Corine continued for her, "while we have not solved our main concern..."

Marylise finished for her. "...we made other discoveries. Appearances are not difficult, especially when one is prepared to cull when needed."

The room seemed to grow cold at the word 'cull' and its own implications. I tried to ignore it.

Jeanne spoke up again. "Should we have ignored the ability to express beauty?"

"Strength and speed are easy, actually," Marylise added. "Even now, your own scientists in places like China are making remarkable discoveries."

Corine snickered. "Your Olympic competitions will be seeing some surprises there once some test subjects are old enough."

Jeanne looked at the other two, then at me. "That's enough, I think. Please! On your knees, Félix."

Obediently, I rose. Their pheromones filled my sinuses.

She leaned over my still-rigid member, began to lick it. Marylise slid under her, under me, and began to tongue my dangling pair. Corine knelt high beside me, ran her hands up and down my torso before pulling my head in to hers for a long, long kiss.

Corine's kiss was as erotic as anything I had ever experienced, but it was merely a sideshow, given the oral attentions of her 'sisters' below. I could tell this would take a long time for me to reach orgasm.

I didn't mind. It felt very fine and I had a lot to think about anyway.

I began to caress Corine's breasts, thumbing her coral nipples. She hissed in appreciation, her tongue tormenting mine.

Jeanne's mouth left my organ with a barely-heard 'pop'. My face still locked to Corine's, I sensed her turning on her hands and knees before, guided by Marylise's soft fingers, backing until she had once again impaled herself on me.

I have mentioned their unearthly speed before. I must add to it strength.

Jeanne's vaginal muscles were stronger than anything I had ever felt. My entire cock was, if not quite 'seized', then at least held very, very firmly. I pulled away from Corine -- or tried to, at least. Her hands tightened on my head, held our faces just inches apart.

"It is hers to do, Félix. You do not resist."

Her voice was colder than I had heard any of them speak before. I thought of struggling, then the blonde pulled me back to her lips. I resist neither her aroma nor her physical strength. Between her might and the -- admittedly delightful -- assault on my manhood below, I surrendered any hope of escape and tried to move my hips to cooperate.

So tight had Jeanne made herself that that movement was difficult. I heard her moan and she relaxed her internal muscles just a bit. She was still incredibly tight but also still very slippery with both her juices and mine. Soon she and I were bucking into each other at an increasing speed.

I left one hand on her hip for balance and recommenced my exploration of Corine's breasts. Beneath us all, Marylise tenderly but firmly sucked first one ball into her mouth, then the other.

Faster and faster, Jeanne hammered back against my hips, driving me deep within her. She was moving quickly enough that I gave up trying and instead concentrated on the growing heat in my cock. Indeed, with my balls locked in Marylise's mouth, movement was almost impossible.

Without breaking her kiss, Corine's hands moved to my own nipples. As Jeanne gave a long wail, she pinched them sharply. At the same time, I felt one of Marylise's fingers enter my ass and press on my prostate.

I came.

It felt like I was on fire. My semen burned as it exited me. Marylise pressed harder on me and my orgasm continued, on and on.

Eventually, I stopped twitching within Jeanne. She released her hold on me and I was able to collapse on the bed, panting desperately, my head on Corine's knees.

She began to pet my hair, gently, as if comforting a cat or small child.

Marylise and Jeanne were themselves kneeling in front of us, arms around each other's waist. There was a satisfied smile on their faces, but not one a man would normally be happy to see on a satiated lover.

I wouldn't call this an assault, but there was no doubt in my mind that I was being used.

Eventually I found my voice again.

"But why me?"

"We have a data bank and..." Marylise began, only to be cut off sharply by Jeanne.

"Enough! Félix, let's just say that we had -- have -- good reason to believe that you carry some very, very good genes."

"Good for us," Corine said.

"But how...?" I'd given up trying to count orgasms. I found it hard to believe, even having just experienced it. No man could possibly do that.

"We are not only geneticists, Félix," Corine smiled, as if speaking to a precocious child. "We are genetic engineers." She pulled my head towards her, pressed my face between her breasts. Her odour again flooded my nostrils and, impossibly, to my stupefaction, I found myself once more growing erect.

She pushed me away, smiling. "Do you see now?"

Marylise laughed. "You are unfair to him, sister. To leave a man like that is unjust." She knelt before me. He fingers tickled behind my sack, stroked up and down my shaft before her head bent to my groin. Licking around and around my crown with her tongue, her hand at the same time pumped the loose skin on my rod, more and more rapidly.

Jeanne, a smile on her face, leaned onto me, her mouth engulfing me in a long, sensuous kiss at the same time Marylise finally took me deep within her own mouth. Tired as I was, there was no way I could last long and soon blossomed into the woman.

"Such a waste," Jeanne said, almost mockingly.

Marylise turned to her and laughed. "As if you haven't enough already, greedy sister?"

Jeanne had the grace to blush, just slightly. It had been inside her that I'd come the last time.

The other two laughed for a moment before turning back to me. I saw in their eyes a hunger I had never seen before.

+

The next morning, a century later, I woke in my house with Jeanne beside me in bed. How we got there, I haven't the faintest idea.

Once she was sure I was awake, she didn't stay long and I was in no shape to stop her from leaving. Indeed, muzzy, hazy as my mind was, my body was much weaker.

She dressed quickly, with efficient, precise movements, not bothering to brush her hair. She was clothed almost before I could turn over in bed.

She leaned over for a quick kiss. I noticed that her odour was gone.

She reached into her purse, took out what seemed to be a small perfume bottle. Shaking it, she aimed it at my face, spraying a fine mist. Perhaps that was her first and only mistake, for the spray missed my face. Most of it.

"Be good, Félix. We shall remember you." It was all she said.

Each of us looked at the other with regret. Her hand gently swept my jaw, then the door closed and she was gone. It was only later that I realized why she had been there.

I slept for perhaps 18 hours, before stumbling out to find my world essentially unchanged.

Except for memories. The memories keep coming back, little flashes of imagery -- a breast, hands on my skin, a pair of eyes closed in the intensity of orgasm. Presumably the mist with which Jeanne had missed me had been intended to delete all such memories.

Yet who could I tell? Who would believe me if I tried?

For the Ste. Anne is no longer there.

It wasn't there when I went back the next day, not even so much as the doorway. Instead of a shallow entrance, there was only a featureless alleyway wall with no hint of a door ever having been there.

And the mended sidewalk which had first led me into its alley? Unchanged, down to the last crack and chip. I have walked it hundred of times.

And one last datum for you - the weather bureau flatly denies that there was a storm of any sort that day.

So it was a dream, a delusion, a young man's testosterone-fed hallucination...

Except for one thing. When I woke, it was to find my bank account inexplicably much less humble than it had been. I won't be boasting if I say that it sufficed to pay for my PhD and the start-up which fell out of my thesis.

As stud fees go, I suppose that it was pretty fair.

.

Now that time has passed, I have had time to reflect. Pour nos péchés -- 'for our sins'. A simple phrase, yet questions remain from those three effortless words. Whose sins, I wonder? And what did They feel was their precise sin? Do scientists ever feel sinful for trying to keep a species alive?

Most chilling, was the phrase a prayer for forgiveness or a boast of Their omnipotence?

Such outrageous power, so limited a destiny.

I pity Them in Their almost-perfection.

I miss them.

I want them.

In the end, I need them - pour mes péchés.