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Disclaimers: This vacuous stroker is fiction. Everyone is over 18 and shuns condoms. Tags: mother-son, brother-sister, cousins, fuckfest, bisexual, multiracial, pregnancy. If you object, stop reading. Voices may be unreliable. Details may be incorrect. Opinions may not be the author’s. Read prior chapters first. Enjoy!
Stanley Steamer 08: Pam & Nikki
Mothers, sisters, aunts, and cousins, oh my!
Stan was off on another business trip, damn him. I missed him. I want him inside me.
And I missed the excitement. All that pot air-dropped on Yucca Valley, and I was asleep.
Palms Ambulance had recruited another paramedic so I managed to dial-back my shifts from thirty hours on, to twenty-four on, with thirty-six off. My pregnancy was advancing so I did not get the worst emergency runs. But I was still dead to the world for twelve hours after a long shift. If I was lucky, little brother Stan would be home to massage and fuck away my physical issues. If not, a hot shower and a soft bed had to do. Then, blessed nullity.
So I missed the drop. A smuggler’s plane was chased north by police helicopters. The smugglers decided to dump the evidence – right over Yucca Valley. Most bales of primo marijuana landed in a big shopping mall parking lot. I do not know what happened to the smugglers. But residents of Yucca Valley noticed. The evidence vanished within minutes, before any cops arrived. Yes, this really happened. Look it up.
And I was asleep then. Without my little brother massaging me, kissing me, fucking me. I missed everything. I missed all those hours from my life. But I miss Stan the most.
I woke up in mid-afternoon after that excitement.
Or rather, I crawled naked from bed then, to pee and reload. The reload: tall mug of Mayan mocha dosed with mezcal, and basket of fruit and cheese nibbles. Set those on a rim-level table beside the galvanized horseless water trough. Dunk myself in the sun-tea water. Nibble and drink to reload and refresh. Feel desert wind and sun on my face, my shoulders, my boobs. Feel water in my long, dark, loosened hair. Listen to the breeze, to birds and distant motors, and small creatures skittering across the big boulders surrounding me.
That is when I woke up.
I was awake when I heard a motorbike crunching the rough dirt track leading to Rancho Relaxo. I recognized the buzz. That was Babs – botany professor and author Barbara Kim of High-Desert College was one of Stan’s regulars.
I met her when she was several months along. Hot-wired pregnancy hormones drove her absolutely nutz. She needed mouths on her bloated boobs and pussy, cocks and boobs in her mouth and pussy, naval licks, full-body rubs, the works. And of course everyone wanted to rub her belly and boobs at the very least, and to satisfy her needs as friends.
Yes, I kissed and rubbed her, and she kissed and rubbed me, and I was not even preggers or bi then. Would I get like that? And how soon? So needy for contact, for sensory stimulation, for human confirmation. I felt my body buzzing already. I did not know whether to worry or exult. I knew I could not just sleep it off.
Babs rolled past the boulder-overhung fieldstone face of the ‘cabin’ to stop and kickstand her cycle by the rock-and-tin table beside Stan’s big steel barn. That was a good place for her to unload.
We waved. She could see me in the trough from there. I could see her from here, the lean, helmeted, crazy Korean woman carrying her infant in a papoose-backpack. Wrinkled little Zane Kim wore a helmet, too. I think a bigger helmet would be needed every few weeks. But he was not too many weeks old now. Maybe she knew a custom helmet maker.
Onto that table went Zane in his pack, Babs’s helmet, leathers. underthings, and boots, and items from her saddlebags: a plastic baby carrier, a diaper bag, and moccasins for her now-bare feet to cross the gravel and dirt. She toddled to me with bag and carrier in hand.
The bag and the carrier with its dozing payload went on the trough-side table after I pushed my reload debris aside. Babs slid into the trough and came straight to me for hugs, kisses, and fondling. Yes, I liked our fondling. Was that my hormonal kick?
“Pam, Pam, you’re getting better all the time. Someday you’ll be almost as good as me!”
More lips and hands. Babs was a nice armful, even post-partum.
Between kisses, I asked, “How can Zane sleep now? After a noisy, shaky motorbike ride?”
“That’s the thing about riding dirt and sand tracks instead of pavement. I can go slow and safe, and he gets desensitized to the vibrations and racket. I’m just preparing him for the rocky road of life. That’s my excuse. But I suppose I should get a car soon. I’ll keep backpacks to take him on hikes.”
She dunked. She surfaced face-up. Her black hair, loosed from her helmet, spread a halo on the water. She looked angelic.
She oozed past me to check on Zane. She knew better than to let him güvenilir bahis swim or float in this little trough. Babies pee and poop, you know. Let them swim in bigger bodies of water. Like Lake Mead.
“Stan’s still gone, I know. I brought some notes for him. He asked about stuff for a project, and that’s what I came up with. And there’s a little about that big pot drop. I’ll leave the packet on his desk. Umm, I gotta pee. Watch Zane for me. Don’t let him float away. He’s learning levitation.”
Babs stepped out of the trough and into her moccasins. She picked a big envelope from her cycle’s saddlebag and went in the kitchen door.
I viewed Zane. His hazel eyes looked at me and then closed. Did he look like Stan? Stan was one of the paternity suspects. Was Zane maybe my step-nephew? The Finnish language has one word to detail our possible relationship but I don’t know it in Anglish.
Babs returned to the trough and relieved me of baby-watch duty. We sat together in the water and chatted. Zane open those hazel eyes and cooed.
“That’s my signal. Excuse me.”
Babs took to a nearby riverstone bench to nurse Zane. They were so beautiful – sacred madonna and godling. His mouth urgent on her nipples. Her glowing holy face. Will I glow like that?
Then came belches and other noises. The bench was a convenient diaper-changing station.
Babs returned for a quick dunk. Well, it started that way. But my hormones! I pulled her close. My hand guided hers to my pussy. I begged.
She smiled. “Sure thing, girl. I know what it’s like.” Soft fingers stroked inside me. Other fingers and hot lips excited my tits. Was it sooner? Was it later? I do not recall the time but I certainly DO remember my fabulous cum. I happily succumbed to the “little death.”
Babs eased me down. She kissed my mouth and then held my head to peer into my eyes.
“Okay, Zane’s taken care of, I made my delivery, and you seem to be just fine. It’s time to go now, to make another desensitizing run past the Orgasmatron.” That is a weird dome in the desert. “Give my love to Stan and remind him that I don’t do DNA tests so he can relax.” Was that reassuring?
Babs repacked and rode off. The water was cooling. Time to go inside.
I missed Stan. I wanted my little brother inside me again. And again. And beside me. Always.
===== TO SATURDAY =====
I definitely WAS going nutz. I called my boss on Friday for the weekend off. I called cousin Larry at his office to ask to spend the weekend lying naked in and around his Palm Springs pool. And fucking. I did not mind fucking cousin Larry and his active wife Sharli.
“Hey cuz, sure, come on down! It’ll be fun. Little sister Jeri will be here, and so will our mom and her current fucktoy, that Iranian surfer. Be sure to bring your butt-plugs.”
“I do NOT do butt-plugs, you perv!”
“Not even one with a horsy tail so we can ride you around like My Little Pony?”
“Stick it in your mom or her toy. I only put organic materials inside me.”
“How about a nice fresh carrot with a big leafy green top?”
“Stick that up your own ass. Someone can blow you while the carrot prods your prostate. Hey, I might try that on you. Do you feel brave?”
“No, I feel like raising someone’s taxes. Gotta go. See you tomorrow.”
Larry runs the local IRS tax office. Be nice to him. You do not want to be audited.
I very much looked forward to seeing cousin Jeri. Hers was the only pussy I would lick. I think I looked forward to seeing aunt Terri and her latest appendage.
Teresa ‘Terri’ Barnes is a new woman. It began when she and uncle Barry took a vacation. Barry was a mid-level executive with a regional utility. When he returned to work, his name was missing from the mail rack and routing slips and also off his office door, replaced by a note to see the front-desk receptionist.
“Hi Lisa, got anything for me?’
“Yessir, Mister Barnes. Let’s see – oh yes. Here’s your separation packet. Congratulations on your early retirement!”
“Retirement? I didn’t put in for retirement. I’m only forty-five!”
“All I know is what they route to me, sir. Have fun with your new life!”
I got all this secondhand from aunt Terri. Uncle Barry came home, talked it over with her, and decided to see the big boss at the home office in Los Angeles.
He drove across San Bernardino toward the freeway. The San Andreas Fault created deep Cajon Pass north of town and the fault zone runs right through the heart of San Bernardino. A minor quake shook enough to topple a power pole – which fell on uncle Barry’s car, frying him.
Aunt Terri took this as a divine sign. She sold their town house, took his hefty lump-sum retirement and insurance payouts, and bought income investments and a San Diego home overlooking the Pacific. She took up athletics, and athletes. Tennis and handball instructors and partners (but no jai-alai), gym gurus, and swimming and surfing pros and coaches – like türkçe bahis Farad, the Persian Plunger, the best Iranian to shoot the curl, not the infidel.
She especially liked surfing nude at Black’s Beach. The waves were not great but the tans sure were. “I don’t do tan lines,” she said. Her Palm Springs poolside presence Saturday morning confirmed that. She glowed seamlessly.
Aunt Terri had always been svelte and feline. Now she was lithe and panther-ish. Maybe the correct term is ‘cougar’. Cougars stalk their prey. Farad was this month’s feast.
I got a good sleep Friday night, dressed minimally for the warm morning, and rolled from 3000 feet / 900 meters elevation down to below-sea-level Palm Springs in about an hour. I parked my Subaru behind a Mercedes and Jeri’s Camry in front of Larry and Sharli’s Mid-Century Modern house. I rang the doorbell. Sharli answered the door with a passion-fruit lava-lava around her sexy hips and sweat on her black boobs. Her damp Afro looked a bit frayed. Was she having fun already?
“Pammy!” She hugged and kissed me. “Glad you made it! C’mon, get naked and come on out with us. Cocktails await you by the pool and so do we! But why wait?”
Getting naked entailed peeling my sundress over my head and kicking my sandals away. Her lava-lava dropped off and we hugged and kissed again, full contact. Yes, morning cocktails sounded good. Maybe some morning cock, too. Can I blame hormones?
“Umm, I’ll be out there in a minute. Need a pee.”
“Me too! And a rinse. But hey, a drink first, then we can go pee in the shower.”
She handed me a small glass from somewhere. I thought, then slugged it. She tugged me down the hall to the half-bath with its two-girl shower. We ducked inside, squatted a little, and let it flow. Spray from the showerhead washed-away our golden streams. We hugged and kissed again under the .soft current.
“Okay, we’ve kept them waiting too long. Let’s dry enough not to flood the floor with our drippings and then present you to the family.”
I followed Sharli’s bouncy black butt through the patio doorway. Wide, sturdy beach lounges around the pool were occupied by morning-sun worshipers. I knew and loved almost all of them.
“Pam!” Naked cousin Jeri jumped up and kissed me. A deep kiss with clutching and rubbing. I dearly love my younger cousin in all ways. And we were having Stan’s babies! Did our fingers slip inside wet spaces? Guess.
Fully-tanned aunt Terri guessed.
“Having fun there, girls?”
Aunt Terri had been a wild child and knew about girls having fun. She had reputedly tried everything with everyone as soon as puberty struck. She married Barry when she was sweet sixteen because pregnant – by him or not, none are sure. No DNA tests back then. So she settled down and played nice trophy housewife for a rising exec until fate set her free.
Terri was not yet fifty years old, very toned and tawny – our genepool has dark hair but hers was sun-bleached, or so she claimed – and looked like a thirty-ish golden girl with a teenager’s ponytail. She was amused by her daughter and her niece finger-fucking just a little.
Jeri took her mouth from mine, grinned at her mother, laughed, and slid two fingers deeper into me. What could I do but the same? Our tongues re-tangled.
“You know you like that kind of fun,” said the tight-muscled, naturally-tan man in the lounge bumping hers. Farad, for sure. He reached over, squeezed the nearby golden globe, stroked down her belly, and inserted two fingers into her. Right in front of everyone.
She slapped at his hand but not very hard. “Quit that, Ferry!” she said without force. He grinned and plunged in deeper. The Persian Plunger, huh? Not only on the waves.
Sharli pulled a lounge against Farad’s other side. “Mom, did you teach that boy how to do that right yet? Hey Farad, show me how good you are.”
She half-laid back in the lounge and opened her thighs. Her dark lower lips laughed in the sun. Farad laughed and took up her challenge. He finger-fucked the two women at his sides.
“Ahhh, not too bad, guy. Do that again,” Sharli murmured.
Cousin Larry pushed himself from his lounge and came to where Jeri and I perved.
“Hi there cuz, I’m glad to see you too. But now there’s nothing left for me.”
Jeri grabbed her big brother’s cock with her free hand, the hand not occupied with me, and pulled him closer. My free hand fondled his scrotum. We massaged him and kissed his face.
Sharli called, “If that’s not enough for you, come over here and I’ll blow you. Or Mom will.”
“Or maybe we both will,” aunt Terri said between Farad’s fine-tuned finger-strokes,
What? Auntie offered to blow her own son? And it was only mid-morning here? How far would this weekend go?
Jeri squeezed her brother’s cock. I saw him wince.
“Go get sucked,” she said. “We’re busy here.” Her tongue returned to mine.
Larry’s cock was already at three-quarters-mast when he poked into his wife’s mouth. Right güvenilir bahis siteleri in front of everyone. Jeri and I turned to watch. So did Farad and aunt Terri.
“When you’re done there, son, come over here,” Teresa said. “I want to see something.”
Sharli spat him out. “Do what your mother says.” She put her hands to her breasts. “A little faster please, Farad.” Her eyes closed. She breathed harder.
Larry walked to his mother. She took his cock in her hands. Right in front of everyone. While Farad still finger-fucked her. She viewed and felt her son’s penis.
“That doesn’t look like Barry’s dick. You’ve got this little bend, right here.” She fingered his shaft. “This reminds me of Derek. He was my high school sweetheart. One of them, anyway. Mostly the football and basketball teams. Derek was a center and Barry was tight end.” She pulled her son’s cock to her cheek and nuzzled him. “Yes, so much like Derek’s, but bigger, because Derek was so young.” Her tongue licked his shaft. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.” She sucked her son’s cock into her mouth. Right in front of everyone.
Jeri and I still fingered and fondled, but we watched. We watched the Iranian surfer satisfy two women with his hands. Sharli pinched her nipples and moaned. Aunt Terri moaned around her son’s cock. What next?
Sharli shuddered, groaned, visibly and audibly orgasmed. She pushed Farad’s hand away.
“Enough there, guy. Yeah Mom, you taught him well.”
Aunt Terri did not answer. Her hands were busy pumping her son’s cock in and out of her mouth. Her tongue was busy working there. Her vocal cords emitted a happy hum. Her body vibrated under Farad’s busy fingers. But she emptied her mouth and used one hand to push the Iranian’s hand away.
“You know what I want? I want both of you.” She lowered her lounge’s back and twisted onto her hands and knees, her head near the lounge’s upper end. “Farad, come stand here so I can blow you. Larry, get behind me and fuck me. I know you’ve wanted to for a long time; I’ve wanted that, too. Now is the time.”
“Shut up and doggy-fuck your mother. Be a good puppy. Farad, stick your dick down my throat. NOW! I’m tired of waiting.”
Jeri and I watched her mother spit-roasted by family and friend. Sharli rose from her lounge and joined us. We hugged together. And watched.
Aunt Terri’s lithe golden body bounced back and forth between son and current slave at an increasing rate. Her lovely boobs swayed easily. Larry groaned and obviously came in his mother, spewing hot sperm into the honeypot where he had emerged into the world thirty-odd years before, pumping load upon taboo load. He held her sleek hips to stay upright.
Aunt Terri’s lips left the Persian Plunger’s prick.
“Oooh, that was nice, son. Now get over here so I can taste us. You guys, change places. Yeah Farad, stick that long lingam into me. What are you waiting for, Larry? An engraved invite?”
Larry staggered over to his mother’s demanding mouth. Farad quickly took his place at aunt Terri’s trembling twat. He set the rhythm; Larry was not in shape to reciprocate, not as his mother licked him clean. Right in front of everyone – meaning me, Jeri, and Sharli.
The doorbell rang. Sharli said, “Damn.” She left us to answer the door. I do not know if she bothered re-wrapping her loins with the lava-lava. But I heard a shriek from indoors.
Minutes passed. Then Sharli emerged leading cocktail-slurping Stan by the cock. Stan!
“Look who’s here, people!” Sharli cried.
“Stan!” Jeri and I yelled in unison. We released each other and ran to him, hugged him, kissed him.
“Hey, easy there!” Stan said. He emptied his icy tumbler, set it on the nearby refreshment table, and hugged us. Then he looked around. He saw his aunt being double-dicked by two guys, one of them her son. He stared.
“Really?” he asked. Jeri and I giggled.
Larry and Farad glanced at Stan, grunted, and waved. Aunt Terri did not look but she briefly waved. She was busy sucking and fucking. Hellos could wait.
Jeri pinched me to gain attention. “Hey cuz, let’s…” She dropped to her knees and slurped my little brother’s thick cock. Sure, I thought, and I joined her. Stan stiffened rapidly.
Farad grunted, grunted again, and pounded into aunt Terri’s butt. It sure looked and sounded like his salty surfer’s semen had spritzed into her. He slumped and fell out.
Aunt Terri unmouthed her son’s cock and looked over her shoulder.
“Stanley! Welcome! Now come here and cum in me. I need to be fucked some more. NOW!”
Jeri slurped Stan’s shaft and looked up at him.
“You had better go do Mom. She’ll be impossible if you don’t.”
Impossible? I did not want to learn what that meant. I guess Stan did not want such a discovery either. He patted our faces and walked to his doom. Or to her insistent honeypot. Same thing.
“Oh yes, Stanley baby, right there, right in there, oh yes, ooooh…”
She quit talking and resumed blowing her son. She spit him out again to say, “Faster, Stan, faster!” Then she returned to licking Larry’s lollipop.
Stan looked excited. Well sure, fucking into that perfect body, who would not be energized?
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