Stanley Steamer Ch. 17: Imani & Carole

We cooled our jets at the Rancho a few days. Life there was not static. Lorna birthed Langdon, with Stan a possible father. The Cahuilla princess Tina and her bride Frieda both had kids at the rez the next week, with Stan implicated. Mariana delivered Mateo a week later, also with Stan as a maybe. It is so hard to tell after orgies. Ursula was due in just another week.

Megan and the singers were eager for the next few stops on the world tour before our return to Auckland for Crown Princess Ursula's pre-partum party. TNT wanted to play and I went along. Stan was committed to remain behind.

I asked Stan about what kept him off the tour. He said, "Work, business, and business trips." I had heard of the "business trip" when Stan brought Carole here. They likely had pickup sex most nights this time, too. They did not favor fucking alone.

K-Y Jam made four stops in two weeks, with shows in New Orleans, New York, Barcelona, and Mexico City. My new verses with music were hits. K-Y Jam was featured all over print, broadcast, and online media. TNT and Megan stayed ninja-anonymous but Nikki and Kaylee's faces and gown-draped figures were on display everywhere.

I had not expected this problem: We could not use credit cards or I.D.s, not with our real names. My and the players faces might not be known, but our names were, from the song credits. I tried charging a purse at Bloomingdale's and had to do a fast shuffle to escape an excited crowd.

One of Stan's contacts fixed that by giving us all fake I.D.s, with credit cards to match. I went from Imani N.L. Barnes to Imelda June Flattery. Oh well. It was better than being devoured by locusts.

=====

Tahne'e coerced Siemens to fly a smaller crowd from San Diego to Auckland for Ursula's royal birthing of the next crown prince, Kereteki'i - the name of a strong god. "But we'll just call him Kerry," the crown princess said quietly.

Stan and Pam went for their mother. Carole went with Stan. TNT and Megan went for their grandmother. I went for TNT. The singers went for the players and more surprise shows. Only nine of us. Barely enough for the jet.

K-Y Jam show fans swamped the airports in Christchurch and Brisbane. Media hinted at the group's down-under links. Good. Follow false trails, guys. Don't even look at Rotaruta, and Tahne'e, and Ursula, and any relatives.

Maternity! Toned Ursula and wrinkled Kereteki'i came through their ordeal well. Stan looked a bit shaken. He was probably the father of his mother's new son. Would he father more?

"He's a Bastille Day baby," Ursula said.

"It is also International Nude Day," Tahne'e said, "celebrated in Rotaruta. It is too bad indeed that New Zealand is so repressed."

"Terri says she's had enough of this mothering stuff," Ursula said, "so she had her tubes tied. No more babies squirting out of HER, no way! But Tahne'e likes fertile wives, don't you? I should be good for more kids. I'm not even fifty yet!"

She nursed Kerry, I mean Prince Kereteki'i, from breasts looking only slightly outsized for her taut, trim athletic body. She had exercised through her term. She would push herself back into top form, soonest. She would not let any of the junior wives out-swim her.

But it might take another fuckfest involving Stan for her to conceive again. I suspect she would arrange that. She liked being motherfucked.

K-Y Jam played tumultuous shows in Singapore before letting Sony fly our crowd back to the Rancho. K-Y Jam continued the world tour, jumping to Eurasia and Africa. I went, to be with TNT. Stan stayed behind... until Napoli, when his mandola took the group's classical music back to its beginning in both the pops and intimate shows. Audiences could barely walk afterward.

"I'm glad to work this into my business trip," he said. Carole was not along. I did not ask about his business.

=====

I saw an awful lot of the world from luxury seats. I overloaded. As Carole says, it's a processing problem. I needed time and space to process. And, though I hate to admit it, even though I love the group to death, especially TNT, I had not been by myself since forever. I needed to vagabond alone. To experience. To think. To write. And yes, to fuck other people.

I sucked and fucked everyone goodbye in Sevilla and took buses and trains around Europe. I got by with English and guidebooks. I stayed in touch with 'home' by cell and WiFi - I had top-rate tiny Sony devices in my duffel. I had a real passport, and phony I.D. and money cards.

University towns were always fun. I was a daring, exotic American girl, not difficult to know and fuck. I only had to use my mini-taser a couple of times.

My favorite layover was my return to the Amalfi coast, east of Napoli, south of Pompeii. I rented a room in a hilltop village accessible only by bus or burro. WiFi was at a bistro across the square. I snagged English tourist girls and local studs. And I spent lots of time watching the Tyrrhenian Sea's moods and rendering fantasies in a few words.

I processed. I did not try to write hit songs. Hit songs were not what filled my notebooks before, only words that came to me. I let more words come.

===== [Labor Day 2003]

It was time to go home for now. A trans-Atlantic hop. A cross-country ride in an Amtrak sleeper car, with few guys and girls suitable to fuck. A layover in Manhattan, Kansas, to not tell too many lies to Gram and Gramp, Mom's folks who had sheltered me for so long. They were excited but puzzled by the new grandkids. They would visit soon.

Train to Denver, to Albuquerque, to Barstow, to San Bernardino. Shuttle to Palm Springs and a taxi to Mom and Dad's place - my home before. Before everything.

The house was calm. Jeri had taken Katrina to the Rancho. Teresa took Erina and the nanny to San Diego. Mom's job at the tribal office let her haul Ashur to work, sling him in a rebozo, nurse him - Indians are good about that. Dad still bureaucrated taxes. Both found their jobs rewarding. Whatever.

We celebrated that night. Home-delivery pizza and home-made strong drinks; lounging naked in and around the pool; sucking and fucking Dad and Mom. I had been right to run from this life, back then, when I was much too young. I was right to be here now.

Ashur, ten weeks old now, was asleep. Dad and I lay beside Mom in their bed, kissing her mouth, her neck, her breasts. I nursed Mom and fingered her labia. Dad slid down, suckled me, pressed gently into my pussy. I slid further and kissed his face, his nipples, and his cock. Dad had a great cock!

I moved back up to Mom's breasts, and down to her flat abs (she worked out), her inny navel, her curly black pubes, her puffy dark pussy. I pushed Mom up in bed and crouched between her legs with my tongue deep in her vagina, my gateway to the world. Dad moved behind me, spread my cheeks, and slid his great Dad cock deep into me. He fucked me nicely while I ate Mom. We set a good rhythm.

All was right in the world. I would think about Rancho Relaxo tomorrow.

************

CAROLE

************

I was glad to only be senior wife and not housemother or mother. Or nanny, but I did pull nanny-like shifts. I would delay seeking that library job; I was busy enough here at Rancho Relaxo.

Anny's contractors had done wonders - once she horse-whipped them into shape. Do not fuck with welders, who must pay close attention to details. Each task was done right or was done over until it WAS right.

They were mostly finished when we flew back from Auckland the first time. The place gleamed on our second return. Every woman had her own space. Chambers grew in the main house and sprouted around. This could be a medieval nobleman's ever-swelling villa.

All the babies! Pam's twins. Anny and Jeri's daughters. Lorna and Mari's sons. And, with the sexplay around here, more could be expected. Anny would have to add the extension's second story if the dorm space filled up.

But all that disappears at night when my girls - our women - are home and in bed with me and Stan. I missed them so much when I was a distracted semi-mom. I miss them now I'm their Mommy, with their Daddy, but they're off making music and magic and money.

Come on, I tell myself. They are over eighteen. They are fabulous. They will reach heights I never dreamt of. With the singers, with Megan and Imani, they are already reshaping the world.

But I miss kissing them, tasting their breasts and pussies, feeling their mouths and fingers on me, watching their father's cock move in and out of their lips and labia, tasting them on his cock and tongue - all of that. I miss our family circle when we are not circled. I miss the total love.

We are adults. Life, love, sex, survival, all are one and the same. All are imperfect. Death is the only perfection in life. I don't want perfection yet. I want to taste our daughters, the women we have loosed on the world.

===== [Friday before Fall Equinox]

"That's your job, Ellise, not mine," Stan said on his landline. "Sony provides the venue and gear. K-Y Jam shows up and grows money for Sony. The ladies, with some input from me, laid out specs for the Vegas complex. Off the Strip, great parking and security, rooftop helipad and domed pool, their living and studio spaces, elite rentals below, all that. YOU get to push Sony to get it right and on schedule. Or we can jump to Warner at any time."

"Other agents exist, too." He sipped from a frosty mug of Anchor Steam beer. "Just a hint. Read your non-performance clause. Yeah, I'm busting your buns. Very well-paid buns, and not too bad-looking, hey? How are Simon and Sandahl doing? Do they resemble me yet?" He smirked in my direction.

Ellise's twins were born nine months after she signed Kaylee, Nikki, and Stan. The erotic music drove her to fuck him in between her own husband-fucks. Pam says supersperm are biologically impossible. Mariana says to look at the results. I side with Mari.

"So get the twins off your tits and your pretty tush out of your chair and go throw rocks at Sony or whatever it takes to get their compliance. They set and announced the opening date. Petty bullshit hurts them more than us."

He hung up and finished his beer.

"Yes, they're going," he said, reading my mind. "Talia and Tanya, and Imani with them, and Megan with Kaylee and Nikki. They'll all have huge luxury digs in Jam Tower, I mean the KYJ Centre. The Rancho will always be their refuge but they're in the world now, learning new things, growing and changing."

I knew this was true. It still hurt.

"Megan can keep up her botany studies when she's not playing or touring and our twins have the best fretboard and keyboard coaches, and Imani to write them more hits," he said. "If they go crazy on drugs or lust or schemes or any bad shit, we'll be there to help, but we don't control them."

He smiled again. "They're smart. Old saying: Some people learn by watching, some by listening, and some just have to piss on the electric fence to find out. But pain is the strongest teacher. Another saying: We gain good judgment from our experiences. We gain experience from our bad judgments. My fear is they haven't made enough bad choices yet."

He put down his empty mug and led me to the big couch. We lay together naked, only sharing breaths and souls. He soothed my six-months-pregnant body. Afternoon light faded from the greatroom's high, thin windows.

=====

The twins were in Las Vegas with Megan and the singers for their weekend shows. Stan and all non-performers malingered here at Rancho Relaxo.

Besides the house expansion, other recent construction gave security. Double walls outlined the old Rancho. Nasty wire fences marked the buffer acreage Stan's nasty lawyers had bought. The "consular office" at the inner gate gave legal protection. Strange tricks were hidden amongst the surveillance gear.

The new arrival alarm rang the 'friend' signal. The video screen showed the silver BMW of Cahuilla princess and non-fiction writer Tina Cerna and her intent photographer bride Frieda Lagarda passing the inner wall's gatehouse.

Striking dark Tina and bottle-blonde Frieda emerged from the luxury sedan. They knew the Rancho's customs; off the rez, Tina even respected others' ways. They left sandals and clothes at the door.

They did not bring their daughters, born just between Lorna's and Mari's sons at the end of June. Ten weeks already!

"Staff nurses have the girls," Tina said, "and we are here to party, Stanley. Hi Carole." They hugged us. "Hope we're not too early. Got drinks?" Tina was always pushy.

Internet and phone lines had been buzzing around us. Forces almost beyond our control had arranged a "pool party weekend" here. I had my suspicions.

I had a feeling not many babies would arrive for the festivities. Clara the old nanny would tend any here, and pretend not to see obscene pervo behavior.

My suspicions buzzed when fully-freckled Anny skipped naked from outside and worked the kitchen stacking drinks and snacks instead of hassling Stan about dinner burritos. She gathered her full tray, waggled her tight ass, and said, "Refreshments out back, kids."

We followed her perky butt to her pool, its dome panels retracted, open to the sky. The last-quarter moon barely lit the desert.

Mari, Lorna, and Lazlo splashed and laughed lazily. The rest of us immersed and exchanged slurpy greetings. The poolside tray was quickly depleted. The snacks were light. The drinks were strong. The chocolates tasted of cannabis.

My suspicions were confirmed when Anny led her husband and mine from the pool to a high, soft lounge, where Ursula had lain for her wedding. She held the men, kissed them, squeezed their cocks, and said, "I'm ready for magic." She crouched on the smooth cushion.

"Here," she said, and pulled both their cocks into her mouth. They stiffened fast, Stan's thick stick and Lazy's long red pussy-poker. Lazy's arm held Stan's shoulders like a brother.

Anny pushed Stan away. "Give," she said, and redoubled sucking her fuck-cousin husband. My husband moved behind her for a good doggy-fuck. She bounced between them, her breasts swinging. Stan sped up and came in her.

Stan could last a long time when he wanted. He could go fast when he wanted. He had control. That was part of his magnetism.

She pushed Lazy away from her face. "Switch," she said. Lazy eased his long lingam into her wet depths. Stan's soggy salami re-grew in her mouth. She bounced again, the means' play-toy, a live-action figure, nicely spit-roasted. Lazy came in her.

Lorna, Mari, Tina, and Frieda held me and stroked me in the warm water. We watched the tripling. When Anny pushed the men away and stood, Tina kissed me and left the pool to replace her.

Imani came from the house and slid into the pool. "I thought I heard noise out here! Wake a girl from my beauty nap, will you?" She hugged and kissed me.

Tina sucked both men, then Lazy as Stan fucked and came in her, and then Stan as Lazy fucked her. She rolled off the lounge. Lorna kissed me and went to take her place. Double-sucking and double-fucking continued with Mari and Frieda.

"Enough," sweating lazy Lazlo said. "Give a guy a break. Got any more candy?"

Anny pulled me from the pool and bade me lie back on the soft lounge.

"We used Stan and we used you," she said. "Now we'll use you even more."

Anny's head was between my exercised thighs. Her tongue and lips taunted and teased my pussy. Tina, Mari, Lorna, and Frieda kissed and stroked my face, my swelling breasts and belly, my legs, my feet. Have your clit and toes sucked at the same time - it's fantastic!

The women shifted. Every mouth and hand took me to heaven. I squealed.

I raised my head. Imani sat on the pool's edge, watching, sandwiched between the two men, a cock in either of her hands.

"That was beautiful," she said. "Now it's my turn. C'mon, guys." She tugged their cocks.

Stan looked into her face. "You're sure?"

She kissed him, kissed Lazy, and turned back to Stan. "Yes, cousin, I am sure." She tugged again and took my place, crouching on the high soft lounge. She sucked and got fucked and got fucked again. Lazy kept fucking until she came. What was in those candies?

Pam had come to the pool wearing a sleepy look during Imani's lovely double-dicking. She had regretfully abandoned her torturous paramedic ambulance runs but still worked long clinic shifts. She was up now to watch the fun. Jeri was with her, just back from her studio. They immersed, held me, kissed me, loved me. Jeri climbed to the lounge when Imani rolled off.

"Do me," she said, crouching to invite the two well-worn cocks. The guys did her quite thoroughly. It took awhile. Pam followed her when she was doubly-fucked and back in the water with us.

"You are sure, oh my sister?" Stan asked.

"I am sure, oh my brother," she replied.

The rite proceeded. Pam sucked them and took Lazy's cock in her pussy first. She rocked and bounced; her fine breasts swung alarmingly. Lazy came, straining. He went back for more sucking. Stan came for sloppy seconds.

"You're really sure?" Stan asked again.

"Shut up and fuck me, bro," she almost yelled.

So he did. For a long, long time. Long enough for Lazy to cum in her mouth before Stan shot a load of hot live sperm into her fertile womb.

I was surrounded in the water by the loving hands and mouths of all the women. The women who had taken Stan's sperm and would bear his babies. Some might try to blame lazy Lazlo but I knew better.

Pam and the men joined our wet cluster. We clung. We were all family.

=====

Anny asked, "Anyone ready for dinner?"

Stan asked, "Anyone ready for burritos and wine?"

Pam asked, "Didn't I see paella makings in the fridge, Anny?"

Tina said, "My chef has something special for Frieda and me so we'll go back to Cabazon. Thanks for the jiz, guys. We'll have a fine baby festival next June."

They kissed every nipple and mouth, sucked both dicks, dressed, and left. We left-behinds dined naked around the long kitchen table. Anny served paella. I sat close to Stan. We spoon-fed each other, and laughed.

We took to the greatroom's comfortable seating after dinner for drinks and hashish. The sound system played soft harpsichord music - not K-Y Jam's erotic hypnotic maelstroms. Good thing - the guys were fucked-out for now.

"This is a setup, isn't it?" Stan asked nobody. I saw all the women wearing expressions of innocence. Whatever their plot, I had not been included. I did have an idea of what to expect tomorrow. So did Stan, I am sure.

"Setup?" Anny said. "Only a few friends, being friendly, that's all."

"Uh huh," Stan said. "Pass the hash pipe."

Pam and Jeri saw to their babies before returning them to nanny Clara's care. Stan's sister and cousin joined us in bed that night. They were very nice to me.

===== [Saturday]

The day started normally. Naked breakfast with strong spiked coffee, of course. Stroking anyone who passed nearby. Joking and plotting.

Lorna and Mariana dressed and took little Langdon and Mateo with them to the rez publications office. "They still pay us for edit and layout, and more on weekends, so why not?" Mari said.

Anny and Lazlo dressed too. "Going shopping," was the excuse. Callista was slung over Anny's shoulder in her eye-dazzler rebozo.

Imani had been spending weekdays at the Rancho and long weekends with her folks in Palm Springs. She stayed here last night. This morning she sat naked on her favorite giant boulder with her notebook, but climbed down to us when the 'family' alarm signaled her folks' Audi. Larry and Sharli, their infant son surely left with a trusted sitter, shed shoes and clothes at the door.

"Hello, hello." Everyone kissed nipples and mouths in greeting. A new wrinkle: men had cocks held while their chests and faces were kissed. They reciprocated with polite pussy-rubs. Larry and Stan just bumped fists.