”“About torkin’ time,” Mag grunted.“Weapons ready,” Cyst ordered. “Keep the spread so we can contain them against the river. And remembe..., do not let them get closer than five meters no matter what.”The four marines stood and moved forward, weapons out before them, armor still in chameleon mode. They spread out to form a loose semi-circle that would leave no avenue of escape for their quarry. Gath stood and walked behind them, acting as rear guard and a final obstacle to be overcome if one of. "I know, if I wanted to, I could say no, and he would respect it. But I don't WANT to say no. The practical considerations are not my responsibility any more- he has taken all that and reduced me to my most basic, primal self. I am sitting across his lap, straddling him, and I use the excuse of standing up to grind against him- just once."Ah-" he cautions, the same sound we use with our dogs, who are out in the kennel tonight, as if I am an a****l incapable of language. I nearly am. Sensation. More

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