Stanley Steamer Ch. 02: Lorna & Babs

Lorna grabbed him next. Her plush boobs must have cushioned her embrace but did not affect her mouth-work any. "And I know just where to find you. Let's not be strangers." She squeezed his crotch.

Stanley rubbed their tight butts. Lorna raised her miniskirt and pussy-flashed him. He pulled her close and inserted a finger or two. She jerked.

"Just something to remember me by." His voice went sort of Schwarzenegger. "I'll be back," he croaked. He invaded her again, then sniffed his finger. "Yes."

"Hey, don't forget me!" Mariana cried. Stanley reached into her Lycra shorts and obviously finger-fucked her too. Her eyes rolled. He sniffed. "You too."

I snagged Stanley's belt and turned him to face me. "Aloha is both goodbye and hello. You gave them their alohas. What about me?" I flashed my eyes.

"Our day is just starting," he said, and pulled me close. His hand rubbed my pregnant belly and crawled south. A finger found me, then another. They slowly slid into me. He bit my neck. I almost swooned. "Patience," he advised.

Stanley kissed my belly. Mariana tongued my distorted navel and kissed around it, and then my mouth. Lorna kissed up from my bump's bottom edge to the top, then my throat, then my mouth.

"Happy trails." The Camry rolled toward the cruise line office buildings.

Nobody honked at us so I guess we were safe.

=====

"Now where's this guy you've gotta see?" Stanley asked.

I directed Stanley and Heidi to a long, low biology building on the university campus. I ran - well, it was more than a waddle, more like a spastic skip - to the info office.

"Where can I find Kwame Barnes?"

The clerical checked a computer screen. He smiled at me and my belly and likely at my bound boobs too. He dragged his eyes up to my face.

"Dr Barnes is on lunch break and he eats early so now he's probably running on the old lap track. That's..." and he gave me easy directions. We could drive right up!

Two minutes later we rolled silently down an empty drive beside an empty paved oval. The tall, muscular black man wearing only track shoes and shorts ran ahead of us as we closed. We passed him and stopped a few meters ahead. I turned to look at him. He stopped to look at us and our beautiful Heidi.

"Oh hi there Babs! What kind of Volkswagen has your friend got? That's not electric - I would have heard the hum. And that racing wing looks funny. Wait, is that...?" He looked closely at Heidi's cute butt and saw the little ZEE emblem. "Well, fuck me with a raw yucca root, that's the Zero Emission Engine. You've got a steamer!"

I laughed. "Kwame, let me introduce you-"

"Let me guess," Kwame said. "You must be Stanley."

My driver saluted my colleague, two fingers to an eyebrow. "Stanley's Steamer, at your service. But I don't do curtains."

We left the car. I walked directly to Kwame. I held his shoulders. I leaned and licked his sweaty chest, licked each sweaty nipple, nibbled till he jumped.

"Kwame, I have a big, big favor to ask of a wonderful man..."

"Hey," he pushed back, "about that party, I'm probably not-"

"Doesn't matter," I said. I wreathed his neck with my arms and kissed his mouth. "But I have a big, big favor..."

Kwame sighed. "Out here in public? Okay, but no gerbils."

Stanley handed him a towel from Heidi's front trunk.

"Dry off, guy, hop in, and tell us where to go."

I sat in the middle up front. Fine men, not overdressed, were on either side. I put one man's hand on my belly, then the other's. I felt safe. And I explained my need to Kwame. No, not THAT need, the other one. The data need.

"What I need, what I really need, is part of that paper you're on, the one not ready for publication, your genetic survey of that Morongo Creek platyopuntia hybrid cluster. I don't need and can't use your detailed data, just overviews your analyses. I'm on a paper comparing the phylogenies of regional hybrids. I'll credit you, of course. Can I please, please see that stuff?"

I moved his hand from my belly to my bloated boob.

Do not blame me for being horny. It is something about pregnancy hormones.

"Uhhh, sure Babs, it'll only take me a minute to extract that and burn it to disc for you. Uhhh, are you sure-"

I pushed his dark hand up under my shorts to rest on my thigh.

"I am very sure and I will be very grateful."

About those platyopuntia ("beavertail cactus") hybrids. They are curious and important. The Spanish conquistadores and occupiers learned about opuntia cacti with edible fruits called 'tunas' or 'nopales' - they are sliced and cooked in Mexico as 'nopalitos', rather like French-cut green beans. The Spanish took fruitful opuntias wherever they found them and planted them wherever they went because easy food to raise and process.

Those varieties were close enough that they interbred, hence the hybrids, which turn out to be very fire-resistant. A cluster may be the size of a big house and host numerous plants and animal nests. In a wildfire, animals run inside for shelter, fire burns off the outside, and plants and animals on the inside survive to breed the next generation. It is so Darwinian. Pacific coasts and inlands are dotted with these "fire islands."

Each cluster has a unique genetic heritage, a singular blend of ancestors from the Americas. Each has a unique landscape and climate history, its growth showing its ancestry and what it survived. Each is a world unto itself. Each can provoke several doctoral dissertations. Like Kwame's. But enough of that.

We pulled in front of a just-off-campus condo. Stanley and I followed near-naked Kwame inside. Kwame said, "I should clean up first," but I pushed him toward his workstation. "Virtual comes first. Physical comes next." I rubbed his shoulder and pinched a nipple.

Kwame tapped away. I went to Stanley, put his arm around my hips and my arm around his, and said, "I'm feeling quite grateful to you both." My free hand pushed up his tee. I nibbled a nipple. He twitched.

Kwame stuck a CD in a drive and started the copy burn. He stood and turned to us. I motioned to him. "Please come here, Kwame."

He walked hesitantly. I grabbed the top of his track shorts, pulled him close, and tongued his sweat-salty hairy black chest. "I want you. I want you in me."

I turned to Stanley, pushed his tee up, and licked his tanned hairy chest. "I want you too. I want you in me too. At the same time. This time. Now." That was my crazy horny hormones talking.

I looked from face to face. "I want you both in me. Now. Here and now." I pulled Kwame's shorts down, then did the same to Stanley. "Get that shirt off, Stanley. Get naked." I sucked Stanley's nipples and then bent to his cock, already thickening, and slurped him till he was stiff and wet.

I slipped my wrappings off and backed my butt to Stanley. "Stick your cock in me. Fuck me." Damn, my hormones were shouting! Damn, that felt good when he entered me and held my hips! Damn, I love cock!

I looked to Kwame. "You're too far away. Get your beautiful big black cock over here!" He moved just enough. I reached his butt, pulled him close, and swallowed. He was about the same size as Stanley but flattery never hurts.

I stood with my orifices open to Stanley. He stood bumping my buttocks and paradising my vagina. His one hand held my hip and the other tweaked my clitoris, oh joy! I bent with my mouth at Kwame's groin. He stood with his prize penis halfway down my throat. Both my hands pulled his body close.

We set up a rhythm. Stanley pushed, and then Kwame. I was in the middle, my bulging belly swaying, my bulging boobs swinging, all back and forth, back and forth, more fun than a wind-up cuckoo clock with a pendulum swinging and figures dancing and striking the bell. My bell was nicely rung. And I felt Stanley cum in me, way inside there. I pushed into him till he dropped out and backed away.

I was tired of standing.

"I am tired of standing," I said. "Take me somewhere comfortable. How about that table, Kwame? Got a thick blanket to pad it? I hate cold surfaces."

Kwame spread a doubled quilt.

"Just right, guy," I told him. "Now fuck me. Stanley, give me your wet cock to suck. I'll make you live again. Yeah, right here."

I lay on my back, my head at one edge of the table, my hips at the other edge. My legs spread wide. A black man's erect penis entered my vagina. A paler man's erect penis entered my wide-open mouth. I fucked the one and sucked the other. It was fun.

Again, the rhythm: push and push back. Stanley held my boobs and pushed into my mouth more forcefully, hardening by the moment. Kwame held my hips and pushed into my vagina fiercely. Hold, and push, and push back, while my lips and cunt and heart were filled beyond belief.

Kwame came in me, deep thrusts followed by a roar and a shake, and an easier push. Stanley's penis was fat in my mouth. I spat him out.

"That's a good start, guys! Now switch again. I'll stay right here."

Stanley, reinvigorated, fucked me again. Kwame's penis, gooey but loveable, touched my tongue again, grew, teased my cheeks. I sucked and sucked, and tongue-danced along his throbbing shaft, and teased his circumcised cap, and sucked him till he was almost a log in my throat.

Stanley came again, and fell out all too soon. I replaced my mouth with my fist on Kwame's carved-ebony wonder and said, "Switch again. Fuck me hard again," looking at Kwame. "And bring that needy woody back over here," staring at Stanley. They did.

I could tell this was the last swap. Stanley just was not hardening fully. Kwame stayed hard and likely somewhat drained as he pounded. I like pounding. I like guys who can fuck and fuck without cumming. They make me very happy.

I was very happy now. Those cocks, and my crazy hormones, left me in near-constant orgasmic bliss. Come? I did not just arrive. It was an endless journey.

Kwame finally spurted, long and slow and it looked a bit painful to him, a happy agony, I hear. He fell out. Stanley, somewhat stiffened, left my mouth.

"One more time, guys?" I asked.

A bell chimed. "Ah shit," Kwame said, "I have a seminar I just can't miss. I've gotta run." He punched his computer and a disc ejected. "Here's your stuff, Babs. Use it in good health. I gotta go now. Anyone want to shower?"

He trotted into his bath just long enough to wet-down, soap-up, rinse off, and towel dry. Then he was out selecting clothes.

"Take it next," I told Stanley. He shampooed and rinsed.

I watched Kwame don linen trousers, black shoes, a light blue button-down shirt, and a vaguely collegiate tie.

"I must seem more academic than anyone else there," he explained. I knew why. Same for me.

I replaced Stanley in the shower. I prefer shampoo to soap. Softer, and one good squirt handles hair in all places and skin everywhere else. The shower head was on a hose and could shoot a rainstorm or a jet; I carefully irrigated my plumbing. Hydraulics miners had nothing on me!

"I don't need a ride but I must go NOW," Kwame announced, heading for the door.

"We're right behind you," I said. Stanley and I only had minimal clothes to pull back on.

"Don't steal too many cookies and don't let the door hit your pale asses," Kwame warned, and trotted off.

My disc in hand, we were outside as Kwame disappeared into the campus.

Stanley and I hopped in Heidi and silently drove away.

=====

Stanley said, "As it happens, I have a guy to see in Santa Monica. But don't expect any fuckings. He's as queer as Liberace and I don't really want to give him my ass or mouth."

My flip-phone rang, first time today. Well, we had been out of coverage in places. "Hello? Yeah. Yeah. Really? Well sure, okay. Tomorrow then."

I looked at Stanley. "My evening session has been canceled so there's no rush back. What's happening in Santa Monica?"

"A different sort of thing," he said. "This guy cuts fine slices of odd minerals for deep EMF analysis, more than spectrographs or X-rays or radar. He's a real master of the art, and he promised some to my client in Boston - but they're, umm, not quite acceptable to most shippers. Something about unstable isotopes. So I'll hand-carry an artfully-shielded package on my next flight. Airport scanners won't twig to it."

More top-down freeway driving and more great music, Midori and the Chicago Philharmonic with Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto. I looked at Stanley.

"Is that another piece you'll do on mandola?"

"I can't afford an orchestra," he said. "Too bad you don't play harmonium."

We swung off the transcontinental interstate highway's western end and crawled through residential streets. We stopped outside a cookie-cutter tract house. Stanley rang the doorbell. The short round man who opened wore red coveralls, magnifier lenses, and a stethoscope around his neck.

"Stanley!" he squeaked, hugging my driver's waist. "And who is this lovely creature? Oh heavens, she's SO beautiful! I just LOVE pregnant women! May I rub your belly, ma'am? May I kiss it?" He leaned to me and rubbed and kissed.

I was startled and amused. I looked at Stanley. "I thought you said..."

Stanley laughed. "He DOES have his quirks." Then to the man, "Oscar, meet Babs and her belly. Babs, meet Oscar the friendly ghost. Hey Oscar, we've got a long drive back. Can I have your package?"

"You can have it after I have ravaged this delightful woman. Hello, Babs! Mucho gusto! Mmmm... smooch smooch smooch..."

He rubbed, kissed, and licked my entire exposed bulge. He did not go for my groin, breasts, or butt, only the baby-to-be. I did not know whether to feel admired, outraged, intimidated, or goofed.

Oscar looked up after some minutes.

"Stanley, if you'll let me suck your nice hairy cock till you're nice and hard, I'll let you fuck my cute ass while I nuzzle this beauty's belly. I won't do anything weird, I promise ma'am, I mean Babs. Just a quid pro quo?"

I looked at Stanley, then T Oscar.

"Thanks for the offer, Oscar, but Stanley here is totally fucked-out at the moment, and I am pretty damn close. We had a busy morning. Maybe another time?"

Oscar's face drooped. "There's never another time. Okay, kids. I'll get your damn package, Stanley. It's well-shielded. But I won't hand it over till I get another kiss." He smooched my navel. "Okay, okay, just take it and go, like everyone else does." He fondled his stethoscope. I do NOT want to know about that. And I'm glad he did not ask to listen.

=====

Stanley refueled Heidi at the kerosene point of a commercial fuel complex.

"This isn't for highway use, right?" the attendant asked.

A small gratuity persuaded him that all was legitimate.

The drive east on the interstate was not too bed, just beating the rush-hour crush. Heidi again was top-up and music-loud.

"Early Renaissance from Venice, right?" I asked. I had not looked at the disc player's info display.

"You're too good. I should go to death-metal."

"That'll scare the embryo. Got any Chopin piano?"

We drove enveloped in brittle Polish musical brilliance.

We took a pee-and-snack break about halfway back to Rancho Relaxo at some off-ramp franchise eatery, Taco Smell or the like, I fear. We sat on hard plastic seats with sodas and alleged burritos in front of us when Stanley's cell rang with Ravel's BOLERO. He flipped it open.

"Funny farm; quack quack." That was how he said hello. "Oh, hi Anny. You what? He what? He's where?" He mouthed to me: Girl With Problem. "And you need a place tonight? Sure, you can stay-" He rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course, it's no bother at all. And you're at, uh, Yucca Valley Medical Center? The ER lobby? Okay, we'll find you there. No, not them. You'll see. About ninety minutes but don't watch the clock because traffic-. Yeah. See you there. Bye."

I looked at Stanley. He brooded. "I'll tell you as we drive."

We drove. He stared ahead. He finally spoke.

"Me and Mari and Lorna, a couple days ago, we met this couple at a lake way up in the mountains, Anathea and Lazlo, Anny and Lazy, they're hikers, redheaded cousins, both bisexual, out for a free fuck vacation in the wilds, camping in the sacred woods, y'know how it goes. We swapped body fluids and phone numbers so that's how she called me."

They swapped body fluids?

Stanley's eyes rolled. "Lazlo got in some medical crisis, struck by scorpions or monster red ants or something, enough to put him into shock. They dumped their packs and she carried him down the mountain to the hospital. Strong girl! He'll be medevac'd home tomorrow and she'll go with him. But she can't sleep in the waiting room tonight. So we'll put her up."

"A bisexual redhead girl?" I asked. "Is that bad?"

"She's damn hot but they're both a bit nutz. Not in too bad a way, I hope."

We pulled into the medical center's EMERGENCY entrance. Stanley loped inside and returned with a stunning girl. I creamed just looking at her. Oh, my hormones!

"Anny, meet Babs and slide in next to her."

"Oh, you're... you're so beautiful! Can I touch you?"

Why did everyone want to touch my big bare belly? "Yes, gently."

Anny dropped her belly-bag in the back seat and snuggled next to me. She put her ear to my belly. And a hand on my bound boob.

"Is that the baby gurgling?" she asked. "

"It's probably the cheap burritos or whatever we just ate."

"Oh. But you're such a goddess! Can I lick you?"

What was this lick-my-belly thing? Were these people nutz?

"Sit up, Anny," Stanley said, "fasten your seat belt and leave Babs alone for now. We'll be at my place before long." Oh fuck, I hope so!

"What about your stuff?" Stanley asked.

"We'd set up camp there by that little lake. Tent, cook spot, clothesline, you know how it goes. Food and bath stuff in a net bag hanging from a tree branch our of a bear's reach. In our packs we had our clothes and, like, tools and toys and pot and stuff. I left everything but my belly-bag purse when Lazy got hurt and I carried him piggy-back down the mountain. All that doesn't matter. Not even my favorite pot pipe."

She carried him piggy-back down the mountain? She's a strong girl, I thought.

She absent-mindedly rubbed my belly. I thought, toys and pot and stuff? What kind of 'stuff'? Were these people meth heads? No she had nice teeth and her eyes were not glazed. Maybe they played with shock-orgasm toys. Whatever.

"Your gear can't be just left there," Stanley said. "That just trashes the site. We don't have time now but I'll make a run up there before long and gather it up. Tell me if you want it shipped to you, donated to Goodwill, or what."

That loose end was tied up.

Anny chatted about her life and past and loves and troubles and her cousin and the mountains and whatever else until Stanley drew a joint from Heidi's glove box.

"Anny. Have a toke or two. Yeah, enjoy."

Anny admirably inhaled a third of the joint on her first puff, a second third on the next puff, and she extracted an alligator clip from somewhere to hold the roach for final extinction. Her lungs seemed inexhaustible. Her total inhalations took a bit less than two minutes. She finally slowed down.

"Oh, that's nice. Babs, do you mind?"

She leaned against my boobs and snored. And drooled. I told myself I needed to get used to much worse, post-partum. I did feel close to her. I did notice her smell, and mine. Those were giveaways.

The bumpy gravel trail to Rancho Relaxo shook Anny into something like sentience. "Oh, is this the place? It's great!"

She staggered to the heavy front door. Stanley grandly gestured us inside.

"Oh wow, this is fantastic! But I stink something horrible. Can I shower?"

She looked at me. "Do you need a shower too?"

Goddam my hormones! I said yes.

She nuzzled me in the shower. Stanley joined us - it was a big shower - and he held her tits and mine, kissed her tits and mine, helped her kiss my belly - and then she was on her knees and licking my snatch, water rolling off us, her hands on my ass pulling me to her tongue. And she was too damn good.