Every Man's Fantasy Ch. 18

The argument went around in circles, without an agreement in sight and Ezra, who was invited as a courtesy, and accepted the invitation only out of politeness, was getting impatient. He'd much rather visit the crèche to see his daughters or to wander with his bedmates around the market stalls. At the end of the first morning, he asked if he really was needed.

The chiefs happily let him go. There was even a little relief when he left because they could now have the fun of a really good haggle without the fear of embarrassing themselves in front of a disapproving man.

Now Ezra spent as much time as he could in the crèche. He enjoyed sitting on a straw bale, watching or holding his daughters, whom he loved passionately. When he looked at the women enjoying themselves, sharing their children around, he thought that this was what a female society should be like: maternal, communal, chatty and playful.

And helpful, especially helpful. For example, Dagma and Dipti were two generously-endowed women who had plenty of milk to spare and loved to suckle any baby. They'd been a great help to Annela when her occasional headaches made her disinclined to feed Freya. Now they helped women from all the tribes, whose milk may be inadequate or whose nipples were sore.

Another good reason for Ezra to avoid the chiefs' meetings was Megan's rule that he should avoid private contact with Madam Gloria. The plain but oddly alluring Cloner Chief smiled at him from a distance and seemed unconcerned that he hadn't yet visited her in her room. She would have laughed heartily at the reason, that she was a sexual siren who inspired jealousy in Ezra's bedmates.

It was curious that the matter of who should be his bedmates during the Cloner Fair had never come up. He arrived with the Woodlanders and was due to leave with the Mariners, but Ezra belonged indiscriminately to all three tribes during the thirteen intercalary days at the end of the year.

Even so, perhaps because there were so many of his bedmates here, Ezra was less pestered for sex than during his normal monthly visit to the tribes. He was far from complaining but rejoiced in being able to spend so much time with the mothers and daughters he loved.

******

Something changed for Annela when she got to the Cloner Fair.

The shaking ride brought on a blinding headache that lasted for two days, during which she left Freya in the crèche with the other mothers and sat in the tent she shared with Erin and Carlin, to be quiet and alone. The day after Market Day, however, she woke up with a completely clear head. It was like a calm day after a storm.

Everything was bright and fresh and her joy returned. Annela was her old happy self again, staying in bed to laugh and joke with Freya, teasing her and making her giggle. When they got up, Freya wanted to go to the crèche, so Annela dropped her off with Dagma and took a stroll in the sunshine, rejoicing in the ability to walk, run and skip without pain.

Half-an-hour of fast walking and Annela was at the peak of the hill, where she stopped and span like a top, arms outstretched, her peasant skirt billowing up to show off her perfect legs. She span until she was dizzy. Making herself dizzy was an act of defiance against the wicked disease. She wanted to do to herself, on purpose and for fun, what the damn thing (the 'tumour,' Ezra called it) did to her against her will.

That piece of satisfying nonsense achieved, Annela sat down and rejoiced in the beauty of the day. She took in the view of the Cloner Fair, with its flags, tents and busy market stalls; the crowds of happy people, haggling over prices; the wild screams of girls at the Maypole or splashing in the river.

Happiness was beginning to overwhelm her. Annela needed an outlet and there, running up the hill, was the irrepressible Tamar, heading toward her.

Tamar had seen Annela climbing the hill and assumed she wanted to be alone; but Tamar never took her eyes off her friend, whose resistance to pain and despair was the bravest thing she knew. When she saw Annela spinning, Tamar knew she was feeling better and wouldn't reject her company.

Annela stood to meet her friend.

"Do you want a hug?" she asked.

"Do I?"

They hugged tightly, pressing their breasts together, smelling each other's hair as they hummed happily.

After five minutes of hugging, Tamar eventually released Annela.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," Tamar said.

"Oh, God! So much better!"

Annela pulled the skinny girl tightly to her again and kissed her on the mouth in the Woodlander style, but even this affection was not enough to satisfy her feelings. The contrast between blinding pain and effervescent joy was too much to bear. She was popping from happiness. Tamar could feel it. Annela was hot to the touch, breathing deeply, her eyes shining brightly.

"I know what you need," Tamar said, years of questioning and snooping now paying off.

"What do I need?"

"A bloody good shagging!"

"Tamar!"

"Well, it's true."

Tamar justified everything questionable she said with "Well, it's true," or "I was only asking."

Annela couldn't deny it.

"It is true," she whispered.

"Come on," Tamar said with confidence, taking her friend by the hand, pulling her downhill. "I know what to do."

Tamar led the bemused but hopeful woman to her tent, so Annela could prepare it while she went to fetch Ezra from the crèche. When Tamar said she had something important to show him, Ezra came along gamely, always willing to indulge Tamar's schemes.

When he saw Annela emerge from her tent, looking happy and normal, her red-gold hair shining in the sunlight, her thin skirt flapping in the breeze, he stopped and gave her a smile.

"Come on," Tamar said, pulling him forward. "Take your time. I'll stand guard."

"No you won't, young lady," Ezra said, remembering how Tamar's inquisitive nature had led her to spy on him from the roof of the Honeymoon Lodge. "You run along and enjoy yourself at the Fair."

With a kiss on Annela's cheek, the girl obeyed, leaving Ezra and Annela alone.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello yourself."

"How are you feel ..."

He didn't finish his question because she leapt on him and wrapped her legs around his waist. She pressed her mouth against his, holding him tightly around the neck. He bundled them into the tent. They were naked in a minute; then he held her tightly again, his arms around her waist. It was almost a bear-hug, he was so possessive. She was equally possessive, her arms tight around his shoulders, holding their mouths together.

They maintained the kiss as they lay down, his forearms still arms under her back, giving it an arch. She wrapped her legs around him again as they lay together kissing, loving, sharing their bodies. They gradually melded into each other. Tongues pressing together felt like a single tongue. Chest and bellies pressed together, hearts beating fast, breathing in time with each other, they were a single body held together by passion.

His hands on her back were firm and strong, holding her in place. Her grip on him was just as tight and loving, making her part of him and him part of her. It was warm possessive love, their movements aligned, passion growing exactly in time. Her wetness, his stiffness: it was all perfectly synchronised.

When he pushed his hard cock into her, she raised her pelvis to meet him and it was like a key locking them together. They shared the movement, slow, gentle, short strokes, a sensuous rhythm, just enough to keep him hard and give her the pleasure of being filled.

A timeless period later, the kiss unbroken, the rhythm faster, breathing deeply, Annela moaned in her throat, a joyful keening that gradually became more urgent. She wallowed in the heat from his body and the rubbing pleasure of his cock in her pussy, every stroke a delight, her pleasure feeding off his.

She felt her heartbeat as a throbbing in her throat. Everything pushed her into a place of heightened sensitivity and expanded pleasure, a surge of happiness so profound she wanted to cry.

Then she had the sudden pleasure of a climax. It sneaked up on her and released itself over her thighs and back, shaking her legs and making her arch, stomach muscles bunching, pussy muscles bearing down on his cock with quick rhythmic pulses while aching tingles spread out along her arms and legs.

They were thrusting full length now and Annela stiffened again a few minutes later with another peak. She broke the kiss to breath in large gulps of air and pant with her eyes shut, shaking her head from pleasure that wouldn't dissipate but kept returning to shock and jolt her.

She relaxed her breathing and kissed him again. Now she could hear the squelch of her pussy around his cock; but soon that sensual noise was displaced by the humming in her throat, the hard breathing through her nose and, above all, the thumping blood in her ears.

The rub from his cock kept her on the plateau, where bright little climaxes built up relentlessly into a sweeping long orgasm.

They were still in tune when they rolled over and she straddled him, her hands on his shoulders, her legs astride his waist, her bottom pumping quickly. She pushed herself up higher and sped up even more. Eventually she was upright, her hair shaking, her little tits wobbling, riding him straight up and down with a little pelvic thrust at the bottom.

Now she found her voice. Her moans were high-pitched with a sweet girlish urgency, as if the joy cascading around her body was unexpected and new. She lent back so the tip of his cock brushed the nervy g-spot that always gave her the biggest orgasms. There was another orgasm building now.

She was ready, maybe over-ready, after a long and slow build-up. She put her hands on his knees and lent so far back that she couldn't ride him anymore but they thrust pelvises together, his cock catching her sweet spot every time.

There was no preventing the magnificent peak. She stiffened again and cried "I love you!" as she erupted in an ecstatic release, squirt dribbling down her thighs. The unbearable pleasure shook her legs and stiffened her stomach muscles. The pulsating spasm in her pussy sent out waves of ecstasy around her body and briefly took away her strength.

Now he held her tightly by the waist, his finger-tips touching in the gully of her back. He thrust up into her, working toward the finish, his hard cock pumping into her bright red pussy, making her buck and gasp.

Annela reached another peak before Ezra was done. She cried out "I love you" again and suffered another eruption. She convulsed and dripped. The orgasm drained the last of her strength. Her head shook and she began to lose focus.

Ezra made the last few frantic thrusts, held his cock in her and the mind-blanking red-hot pleasure came over him. "I love you," he grunted through clenched teeth as the spasms overwhelmed him and his cock pumped out his juice in slow, almost painful surges.

Another few thrusts and he was done, relieved of his load with a low groan and a hard squeeze with his hands on her waist. Panting, he withdrew and the pent-up squirt in Annela's pussy gushed out. She gasped and lay on him, still buzzing, occasionally feeling aftershocks.

Kissing her again, he laid a finger flat on her clitoris. Seconds later, she hunched with a final small climax and then it really was all over. Though it was only afternoon, they fell into the best kind of sleep there is: the sleep of the sexually fulfilled.

******

Annela enjoyed a week without headaches. She and Ezra often made love but soon she generously relinquished him to his other bedmates. To be pain-free and happy was pleasure enough for now.

She began to think the mild climate of the Cloner City and the cool breeze from the mountains were curing her. Maybe there was a chance of permanent relief and Ezra's fears were a false alarm. In her heart she knew this was unlikely but a desperate mind will cling to every last hope.

The relapse, when it came, was brief but severe. Annela blacked out for ten minutes while she was watching Freya toddle around the Maypole. Madam Medic was summoned and insisted on examining Annela in the Cloner City, although the girl had recovered enough to stand and tried to refuse treatment, not wanting to cause any fuss.

Annela was kept under observation for two days by Madam Medic and her team but, unfortunately, their knowledge and remedies were no better than anyone else. Annela was stable and pain-free at the moment; yet it was disappointing no one knew what to do to help.

Ezra kept his plan secret from Annela and Mirselene. He had told only Solange, so far, and now he asked Yumi for a private chat. She left Hayate and they went to her bedroom in the Council Hall to talk. Yumi understood and promised her support. While they were there, it seemed natural they should want to have sex, which Yumi justified by saying that she wasn't a Cloner and, anyway, she fancied it. They fucked doggy-style, nice and slowly, making it last.

******

Besides bickering over prices, the chiefs discussed Ezra's sexual role in Samothea. In eighteen months, he'd fathered only girls, twenty of them, all beautiful and precious, of course. Madam Medic confirmed her opinion that Ezra likely couldn't have boys. She had no idea why not and couldn't guarantee what would happen in the future. The case of Kalyndra was ambiguous: though she failed to conceive a clone using his cells, she also failed using her own cells.

Even so, Mirselene argued that they should err on the side of caution and keep to the present arrangement, leaving Ezra off-limits to the Cloners, Farmers and Miners, just in case he managed to father a boy in the future.

Gloria nodded. She didn't blame Mirselene for promoting the self-interest of her tribe. Calliope and Galatea seconded her. Keeping Ezra to themselves balanced the power of the three tribes against the Cloners.

Madam Medic proposed a compromise. She didn't know why Kalyndra couldn't conceive but they would try the cloning procedure using Ezra's cells with women whom they knew could successfully conceive clones. If this failed, she said, it would be the best evidence to show that boys couldn't be conceived on Samothea and there would be no reason to restrict Ezra from the other tribes.

This suited the chiefs and got the agreement of the Madam Lawspeaker as well; so Gloria approved the plan and made it unanimous. They assumed Ezra's consent.

The last item the chiefs and councillors sat down to address became a lively argument. It was the question of a currency for Samothea. At the moment, the Cloner Tokens were a de facto currency, though they were so valuable that most trading was done by barter. Moreover, the Cloner Tokens were owned collectively by each tribe and therefore in the gift of the chiefs. If the tokens were not being used to buy clones, however, then they were an inefficient currency. Much better to have coins that could be used by any individual who wanted to trade.

It was Galatea who made the suggestion. In the months after taking over from Solange as acting-chief of the Herders, Galatea had initiated a policy of buying as many new cloned animals as the tribe could afford.

It had been hard work, spread over many months, transporting the horses to the City or carrying the team of Cloners to the various camps to impregnate the animals there, especially when so many of the Herders were nursing mothers, including Solange herself; but the braves knuckled down and, by the time of the Cloner Fair, every sheep and cow was carrying a lamb or a calf and half the horses were pregnant.

Soon, the Herders would be richer in animals than they'd ever been. If Gloria's guess was correct, however, then they would have spent all their Cloner tokens. Those tokens they hadn't yet used, Gloria's informants at the Fair told her, the Herders were spending freely now.

So when Galatea suggested a new currency, Gloria smiled appreciatively, though the others on the Cloner Council were not so ready to applaud the Herder woman's wiliness.

Galatea proposed that the new currency should be given out equally to all the adult women of Samothea at a particular start-date. After which, only a woman's talent, enterprise or luck would determine how rich or poor she became.

There were objections to the plan, of course. Not everyone saw the need for a regular currency; but Gloria was sympathetic.

"I'm for the plan," she said, "although us Cloners will lose out. ... I admit that, while we had a monopoly of new children, we made the most of our position."

This was an understatement. The Cloners had accumulated all the old-Earth technology they could get (to preserve it, so they said). Hence, most of the old-Earth luxuries, like good clothes, shoes, cutlery, crockery and mirrors, also came to the Cloner City.

"But in Galatea's scheme," Gloria continued, "prices will find their own level again. I can see no long-term threat to economic stability."

"But perhaps there are consequences you have not considered, Madam," said Madam Lawspeaker, "or some consequences we cannot predict."

"No doubt, Aunt. It is something we should discuss in detail. We cannot decide it here and now."

Galatea had a further proposal.

"We can set up a committee to discuss the currency, to understand its economic impact and, perhaps, bring a vote to the whole population."

Gloria smiled to herself. If Galatea's proposal was unacceptable, then this committee might be the real intention, disguised as a compromise deal.

"That's a good idea," Gloria said. "I suggest a committee of three: one spokesman for the Cloners, Farmers and Miners; one spokesman for the three outer tribes; and a third spokesmen chosen by the two others so there can be majority decisions."

Calliope and Galatea agreed but Mirselene had doubts, thinking the new committee would diminish her tribe's status.

"In fact," Galatea argued, "the committee will enhance the status of the three tribes, putting us on parity with the home tribes."

Gloria looked pleased, though it seemed that she had been out-manoeuvred. The meeting ended amicably.

******

Wildchild herself waited on the meeting and, afterward, bringing in refreshments, asked Mirselene if she could speak to her in private. This made the Woodlander Chief apprehensive. She feared the girl intended to say she wasn't returning to the forest tribe. It would be her right, of course, but it was a decision Mirselene would regret.

Warily, Mirselene invited Wildchild to visit her next morning.

When Wildchild arrived, because she was a Junior representing the Cloner Council, she curtsied before her chief. It was a deep curtsey, showing respect as well as politeness. Mirselene was charmed, yet the formality added to her apprehension, perhaps hinting at where Wildchild's allegiance lay.

As Wildchild waited for the older woman to speak, Mirselene took a good look at her. She had matured in the last year, growing to her full height of nearly five feet ten inches, about five inches taller than Mirselene. She had also developed more curves, though she was still undeniably an athlete.

Wildchild let her hair grow down to her shoulders. The tight black curls shone healthily, evidence of a daily care treatment that she hadn't previously indulged. Her face glowed with health and happiness, an intelligent sparkle graced her electric green eyes. Her dress was elegant but girly: a pale yellow sister of the pink frilly number that Hazel first picked out for her a year or so ago. She wore it proudly.

It went down to her knees, revealing strong calves and pretty well-formed ankles. A belt around her waist made the fabric hug her hips and outline her small firm breasts. The wide neck of the dress showed finely-sculpted collar bones and an elegant neck up to a small and determined chin and small pink mouth.