She had been one of the first. Her cunt ripe, her people new and tempting, their energy lulling up a dormant lust until at once our kind lost control,...losing our connection with the great energy of the galaxy. His tentacles had driven into her again, the first to distinguish between the females and select one, drawing attention to these differences. We know when Tattoo noticed the curve of her slight breasts, the taste of her pussy, or the way she moved shoving his cock back into her desperate. Me—I’d been no slouch and I hadn’t fallen from the top of the ugly tree. But though I worked damned hard at school, I could never manage anything more than high-average grades and as for looks, I paled beside him in photographs. The contrast between us was so pronounced, it was something of a family joke. By rights, I should’ve hated him—except nobody hated Paul. He’d been the best kind of big brother, my protector when I needed protection, my tormentor when I needed teasing. So my decision to. More

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