Echo Squad

Author's Note - This story is part of the Literotica

750 Word Project 2022

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We are Echo Squad, highly trained soldiers linked by advanced neural implants. When a mission is too dangerous, the stakes too high, we are the team they deploy. A swift, methodical wave of death sweeping the battlefield, nothing escapes our notice. No enemy slips from our grasp.

We are eight brothers and sisters-at-arms, sharing each other's senses, thoughts, feelings and desires. The doctors tried for ten, but the link wouldn't hold. Patricia and Gary didn't make it. Far worse than losing a limb or one of the senses, their deaths almost crippled us.

Echo Squad returns to its secret mountain stronghold weary yet elated with a recent victory. We descend twelve levels to our barracks to store gear and shed gore-covered fatigues before shuffling into the showers. Us five men and three women openly display our athletic bodies as we gather under the jets of warm spray.

Amber asks Devon to wash her back, and though the request is not so innocent, no one protests. Their growing attraction comes as no surprise. We feel the longing, their aching need for complete union of mind and body. We want what they want.

Devon agrees, spreading soap with sweeping motions that prickles her skin. He moves closer when Amber pulls his hands around to press her tender breasts into his palms with a low groan and involuntary tremble.

Arousal flows through the link. Our collective breaths catch. This intimacy is forbidden yet we allow them to continue, excited by their bold defiance and the shared experience.

His hand tracks down her toned abdomen and stomach tensing the flesh. A simple, suggestive touch on her inner thighs and Amber shifts her stance, opening up for him. His fingers clamp over her sex, first carressing then delving deeper when her mind begs for more.

The whole squad reels with his stimulations. Decency dictates we leave to provide the couple some privacy, but we are never truly alone within our extensive hive mind.

"Bunks," Amber suggests, her voice and thoughts laden with lust. It's an open invitation that we all acknowledge—rules be damned. We cast away all doubt or hints of shame to follow when Devon carries her out.

They go to his bed, laying atop the covers to kiss while continuing to explore each other's bodies. The rest of us drop onto our own mattresses. Some begin to masturbate, compounding the shared sensations.

Devon invades Amber's womb causing multiple groans to fill the space. He's so hard and she's wonderfully tight. Delicious pressure and friction build with each of his invigorating thrusts, spilling over into each of us.

Daniella jumps on Fetu's bed, straddling the powerful Samoan and taking every girthy inch of his erection in one determined try. With her shuddering moan, more of us stir, answering silent pleas to fuck and push the boundaries of this unique connection.

Ursula gets sandwiched between Dick and Peter, an irony that sends chuckles rippling through the group. As they find their rhythm, Ursula calls over the well endowed Pedro, the most macho badass of the bunch, to fuck her willing mouth and throat.

We lose ourselves in the frenzy, proving how vulnerable we are to this bond. We ride the electrifying high until one by one we explode in intense orgasm. Unimaginable pleasure echoes through the link, keeping us shuddering in blissful euphoria longer than we thought possible. We can only imagine what it would be like if Patricia and Gary were still with us.

Finally, the team separates to get ready for bed. We choose not to lie to ourselves. This will happen again.

General Reese barges in after we've settled. He's red-faced and livid. He fancies himself a mentor, but he is not one of us. His blind arrogance is worsened with his obvious embarrassment. If he understood the depth of our loyalty to each other, he would also recognize the peril of barking out threats—especially without an armed escort.

We decide he cannot hurt us over one unified act of passion. Echo Squad moves as one, breaking our commitment to these rash men and their classified agenda with the simple deed of snapping Reese's neck.

Attempting to hide the body would waste precious time, of course. We dress with urgency, gather our gear and fall into formation at the barracks door. Maybe, with some luck, we'll make it topside through a dozen high-security levels.

One thought rings clear between us though. All out or all dead. There can be no other way.