I have my hand on gene's cock and i'm pumping him. my wrist and forearm are getting tired but i knew i wouldn't stop until gene was finished. "my a...m is going to fall off" i laughed. sandy took over, she used both hands and pumped him. "oh, yes, oh fuck yes, don't fucking stop, don't stop. oh fucking yes." a small amount of thick white liquid bubbled up onto the head. sandy knew this was the end, she had serviced her brothers needs before. sandy held his cock firmly and squeezed until a. How to kill. How to die. It was the sense memories of who knows how many pilots, unfurling into my brain and fusing to my neurons. I didn’t know how the Machines knew about them – the sensations were ghostly and ephemeral. They lasted only long enough to impart their knowledge, and to leave a clammy aftertaste on my tongue. I had the ghost memory of what it felt, to have scorching flames from an exploding fuel tank rush along my forearms. Of the sudden, sharp snap of a missile prox-detting next. More

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