Stanley Steamer Ch. 13: Mari's Old Xmas

"That's nice. Oh yeah. Hey, want me to blow you guys?"

"I have an idea," Stan said. "This back area is huge. Take off your pants and crouch here in the middle. Lazy can scrunch up and fuck you from behind while you blow me. Then we can switch around. You can blow and fuck us both, spit-roasted like the sweet, lovely chicken you are."

That silver-tongued devil! You probably know that the most effective pickup line in history is, "Hey baby, you want to fuck?"

Yvonne's moccasins and sweat pants joined her pack and top on the floor. Stan leaned back on his door; her mouth swallowed him. Lazlo located; her pussy swallowed his cock. They back-and-forthed until Lazlo grunted and came, and came.

"Okay, flip-flop time," Stan said. The three in the back seat contorted until Lazlo's slimy cock was in her mouth and Stan's manhood eased into her, lubricated by Lazlo's semen. Stan pumped. Yvonne sucked. Lazlo groaned.

Stan made animal sounds and erupted inside her, his sperm on top of Lazlo's. I knew which would win. They say I am crazy, but I know that when Stan and another guy fuck a girl close to each other, she gets pregnant, even if she's on The Pill. The kid I saw from that looks a lot like Stan -- and his mom is Korean.

Anny kept driving silently while her cousin and her landlord double-ended an unknown girl in her classic car's back seat. I would help clean the upholstery.

"Umm, if you want to stop and switch around, and you ladies..." (me and Lorna) "...get in back here, I eat pussy too. My sister and I practice on each other a lot. I'm not queer or anything, I just like to taste people and make them cum."

Anny laughed and pulled into a turnout by a pile of boulders covered with spray-paint graffiti. Lazlo and Stan got out and arranged their trousers. Lorna and I got out, pulled off our bottoms, and sandwiched Yvonne in back. My leg was on top of Lorna's. Yvonne scrunched on the floor and ate me, then Lorna, then me again. Lorna leaned to suck and finger my boobs, and I did her when Yvonne ate her. I came first. The upholstery definitely needed cleaning now.

"It's my turn," Anny said, stopping in another rocky turnout. "Stan, I trust you to drive Howie. Lorna, move up front. Mari, let me scoot past you."

She lost her shirt and hiked her long skirt around her waist. I leaned against the door's padding, my legs across the wide back seat. Anny leaned back on me; my hands were on her boobs and I bit her neck. Yvonne hunched on the floor and dove between Anny's thighs.

I wondered -- will Yvonne's pussy juice stain the flooring?

We were almost back to the Rancho Relaxo turnoff when Anny thrashed and wailed. Stan drove on, through the byway's twist-and-dip zone, and stopped in a store parking lot at the highway junction. We were all clothed again.

"We're going west here and you're going east," Anny said after she reclaimed the steering wheel. "You shouldn't have trouble hitchhiking here."

"Thanks for the ride," Yvonne said, waving as she headed for the crosswalk.

Anny drove west three blocks to the best beverage store in town. "We deserve a better wine with dinner," she said. She handed her bagged selections to Lazlo. "They don't have screw tops so I'll trust you for now."

=====

Stan's dinner carnitas burritos were better than usual. Maybe his good mood helped. And the wine was much better than his usual cheap boxed stuff. He spent his serious booze money on mezcal tequila and Anchor Steam beer.

But that was later. First, we dunked in the tank's nice warm water. And moved on to a little fuckfest.

"I bought Howie a couple of months ago," Anny said, "but now I think he's been formally christened or anointed or whatever. That's a great back seat for sex. I should get kneepads for the floor."

"Your cars weren't cheap," Lazlo observed.

Anny waved off the implied question.

"I came into some money so I bought toys."

She did not talk about that money -- she and Stan never did. Nor did she mention also buying her barn, the almost-ready domed swimming pool, and other material upgrades at the Rancho.

"Gotta go do business, kids," Stan said, rising and dripping. "Gotta talk to the money leeches." His muscular bare butt disappeared in the kitchen door.

"I'll be a prune if I stay wet any longer," Lorna said. She followed him.

"Dryness is next to highness," I said, and headed into the house, leaving Anny and Lazlo to themselves in the galvanized tank. I looked back from the door. Anny wrapped herself into Lazlo's lap for a tantric fuck, it looked like.

I was wrong. They strolled indoors much too soon. So it was only a fond kiss.

"I have a thought, guys," Anny said. Uh-oh -- watch out for her 'thoughts'.

She and Lazlo had, like Lorna and me, robbed the doorway's bath-towel rack and dried off. Lorna poured mocha laced with mezcal and almond milk into our large cups. Her fantastic boobs jiggle nicely when she moves like that.

"Good idea to recharge," Anny said, quaffing her drink. "Anybody have energy left? C'mon to my room. You too, Lazy." She tugged Lazlo down the hall. Lorna and I tagged after.

Stan and Anny had modded the 'cabin' since they "came into money". The greatroom and kitchen were the same. One side of the hall still ran with Pam's generous room, then a shared bath, then four 'guest' bedrooms. A door at the end led outside. The hall's other side had Stan's big bedroom, his office, and three storage rooms. Anny had rebuilt two of those as a bath-and-bedroom suite. That is where she led us.

"You guys haven't had enough of Lazy yet," Anny announced. "We'll fix that. Get on your back, Lazy-cock. Yeah, like that. Lorna, sit on his head so he can look up at your twin Matterhorns while he tweaks and licks you. Don't worry about crushing his jaw. Mari, you and I are going to suck that Lazy-cock a bit, and then comes the treat."

I snuggled against Anny's warm, bulging body as we lay on our sides with our mouths sharing his long, ruddy, left-curving cock. We got him hard as a bent tree branch. Anny pulled away from me.

"Now your treat, Mari. Go reverse cowgirl on him."

I faced away from Lorna's undulating back. Anny carefully aimed the Lazy-cock into me and pushed our legs apart. I settled all the way down. Oh yeah...

Anny crouched on hands and knees. She licked Lazlo's shaft and my clit. I did not bounce up and down, but moved very slowly. I clenched my cunt muscles in a slow rhythm, then faster. Anny tongued faster; my belly rippled.

An observer -- like Stan viewing from the open door -- would see us throbbing but not flailing. An observer -- okay, it was Stan -- might lose their objectivity by kneeling and sliding his thick cock into Anny's wet domain from behind.

That fucking observer might pound against Anny's butt, faster and faster, rocking the four fuckers in front of him. Holy five-way, Batman!

Stan pistoned. Lazlo must have pinched Lorna's glutted Nordic nipples and slurped her clit so she screamed. Anny licked harder on my clit and I tweaked my own nipples so I screamed. My love tunnel tightened on the Lazy-cock that ignited and spewed inside me. Anny's moan, muffled by my muff, and Stan's grunt and spasm, proved their own pleasure. We were a happy, sweaty mob.

Stan pulled out of Anny. "Are you all done by now?" he asked. "Keep the noise down -- I'm still conducting business. Or take it out to Angela in my barn." The minivan's unfolded bed could host a fourway daisychain, sure.

"I can't be noisy if my mouth is full," Anny said. She crawled to still-kneeling Stan and filled her mouth with his limpish dripping cock. "Mmmfffff..."

He did not push her head away. But pinching her swollen nipples made her gasp and drop him.

"You son of a bitch!" she gasped. Drool trailed from her mouth.

"That's what Mom always says." He swung off the bed.

Stan was busy and we were finished for now, sexually. Anny led Lazlo to her barn to help with metalwork. "A strong back is always welcome, even Lazy's."

"Anything you want to do?" I aked Lorna. We were in our room, sitting on our beds, still naked. "The afternoon is young but not too warm. I don't feel like walking or running the trail, or trying the new bikes."

"We can be domestic and rearrange stuff," she said. "We can be cultural and read something. We can be artistic and sketch each other in obscene poses. We can be useful and clean Howie's upholstery. We can drink and be useless."

"We can get on the laptops and surf the Web," I suggested. "I found a great insane UFO-paranormal-conspiracy site. We can put on headphones and watch movies on the big screen -- I think Stan has more than TOMB RAIDER and the director's cut of BLADE RUNNER."

I heard a car crunching up the trail.

"Or we can get dressed and see who's here."

We pulled on tees and yoga pants. That turned out to be unnecessary. Babs stepped out of the Subaru, put baby Zane in a papoose pack, and grabbed a briefcase. We had been intimate with Babs. Her hormones cooled off post-partum but she was still a great friend, fuck-buddy, and more.

In case you forgot, Barbara Kim, professor of botany at High-Desert College, writes popular field guides for the tribal publications office. Lorna is her editor. I have started helping with layouts.

Little baby Zane is half-Korean. The other half might be Latino or Black or Saxon or Hindu. It was a wild party, she says. But Zane sure looks like Stan. Babs says she does not fret his paternity. Right. They visit here often.

"Babs!" "Lorna!" "Mariana!"

Happy greetings. We kissed, hugged, kissed again, and went inside.

"Stan is busy and his office door is closed," Lorna said.

"That's okay, I really just came by to leave him some papers, research notes and analyses he wanted. I also have material for you, Lorna. I didn't want to leave it at your office. It's the outline for a keyed guide to medicinal plants, powerful ones -- abortifants, convulsants, emetics, analeptics. You need to check if it's too dangerous for casual readers. Maybe it should be a technical article, not a popular guidebook. You're the editor -- it's your call."

She opened her briefcase and handed Lorna two fat file folders.

"One for you and one for Stanley."

I asked, "Can you stay and talk?"

"I'd love to -- but busy, busy, busy."

More kisses and hugs, and they were gone.

Lorna glanced in her folder.

"Hmmm, I could get a head start on this," she said. "And you can help. Let's get on our laptops and research this stuff."

We went to our room, got naked again because Stan kept the air warm so women would get and stay naked, and fired-up the laptops on our little desks. Fuck. It is our day off and we are still working. What pervs we are!

=====

Lazlo and Anny, somewhat clothed, came through the kitchen door just before Stan popped out of his office.

"It's almost dinnertime and the tank water is warm. Let's get wet and drunk."

We all stripped, grabbed wine and glasses, and headed outside. Too bad Babs had not stayed -- she really liked our boob-sucking greetings. We greeted each other, dunked, drank wine, and chatted. We poured more wine, dunked again, and considered the approaching sunset.

Lorna regarded the sky, sitting in Lazlo's lap, impaled on the Lazy-cock. He handled her bountiful boobs carefully. Anny studied the dusk, similarly stuck on Stan's love stick. I was left to finger myself but that was okay, the sky was beautiful. And I saw between the joined pairs; the girls reached for my boobs.

Only a sliver of moon lit the desertscape. Time to go inside. Stan's dinner carnitas burritos were better than usual. And the wine was much better than his usual cheap boxed stuff. This felt like a celebration.

"Breakfast will be formal," Lorna announced. Pam and Jeri were gone and Lorna was senior "weekend wife" so she got to say stuff like that. "Everyone wear a red ribbon around your neck and nothing else." (That would look great with her blonde hair, blue eyes, and great boobs.) "Well, socks are okay. But tomorrow is the seventh of January, Old Xmas, Eastern Orthodox Christmas -- they never updated their Julian calendar to Gregorian. So show some respect."

"It's all Greek to me," Lazlo said, munching the last remains of the meal. "But I won't go Russian to conclusions. That would be ab-Serb."

Wadded-up greasy napkins showered his grinning face.

"What do we do on Old Xmas?" I asked. "Dig up old Xmas presents to swap?"

"I have a thought," Anny said. Oh fuck, not another Anathea thought! "But I'll tell you in the morning. It'll be like a present."

Dessert was a long joint, low-fat popcorn, sugar-free soda, and TOMB RAIDER on the big screen with the sound turned up. Were Angelina's boobs real?

The evening passed. Stan played renaissance tunes on tenor guitar, tuned like a mandola. Lazlo wrote notes and drew diagrams in his big journal. Lorna and I sketched each other and our friends in obscene poses. Anny sketched more details of her design for the house expansion, including a dorm for all the kids. Including Lorna's and mine on weekends. This home will be hopping! The rez has childcare and school for employees. Our kids will grow up bicultural.

The evening expired. Anny and Lazlo exchanged sloppy goodnight slurps with us and toddled to her suite. Stan played a nocturne and followed us to his shower and bed.

===== [7 Jan 2003]

The breakfast crowd was indeed formal. Only red ribbons were worn. Lazlo improvised and tied one around his long ruddy cock as well as his long freckled neck. An erection would kill him unless that was a slipknot.

"I'm no expert on Orthodox holiday breakfast food so I'll fall back on yogurt, baklava, deviled eggs, and coffee strong enough to dissolve mice," Anny said.

Lazlo sniffed his cup suspiciously. "Not today, I hope."

"Only dissolved scorpions so don't worry."

"They should give it an extra kick."

"Wipe the honey off your chin and pass the tarantulas."

I could take no more of this. "What's your thought for today, Anny?"

"Many odd spiritual places are near here. Giant Rock, for UFO worship. The Orgasmatron dome and the Mentalphysics pyramid. Desert Christ Park, all those decayed concrete statues cast to survive nuclear war. And the Indian holy sites Babs wrote about." In the book Lorna edited, I thought.

"And there's the Church of the Naked Jesus, who believe that since Jesus was born naked and crucified naked, then He should be worshiped naked. It's an adults-only church. And they use the Julian calendar so this is their Christmas, one of their big festivals. They're having a all-day event not far from here."

"How far?" I asked. I had a hunch.

"One of their main people here is an old rockstar with an estate above Pioneertown, that's---"

"Stop," Lorna said. "Just stop. Did Stan, Nikki, or Kaylee ever tell you how and where they met?"

"I remember something said about a wild party and... oh, wait. Is that the one where you were raped?"

"Ass-raped. No, I don't think I want to go back there to worship. This church service is going to be an all-day orgy with hundreds of fuckers and plenty of security. Did someone give you a written invitation?"

"Why, yes. All-day orgy? Hundreds of fuckers?" She turned to Lazlo. "Do you feel adventurous? Do you think they'll be gentle with a pregnant woman?"

"Gentle, I don't know. Adventurous... it would be different, for sure."

He looked amused. I thought he was insane but I said nothing, nor did Stan or Lorna. These exuberant naked redheads have their own lives to work out. Here at the Rancho, they're under Stan's protection. Out in the world... Well, you live and learn, or not.

"Let's go," Anny decided. "Could be fun," Lazlo agreed. They dressed and left.

I wondered if we would ever see them again.

(We did, but that is another story.)

=====

"So what do we do around here on Orthodox Christmas?" I asked.

Stan smiled. "Serbs were miners in this area. The Serbian Orthodox church in Yucca Valley has services this morning and hosts a celebratory feast after noon, open to the public. Or we can stay here for burritos and cheap wine."

I knelt at Stan's kitchen stool. I sucked his cock, looking him in the eyes. I said nothing. I stroked his legs, balls, sides, and nipples. Lorna got the message.

"I think Mari is saying she's tiring of burritos and she'll fellate you non-stop from now till afternoon if you take us to the feast. I must agree."

She knelt beside me. We shared Stan's cock, balls, inner thighs, knees, toes, and navel. He gently pushed us away after a few minutes.

"That sounds like an excellent plan. But why waste my sperm down your throats? I'm sure you can find more appealing locations."

Stan is a master of self-control. We spent the morning on the big soft sofa with magic horny music on the sound system. I rode his ramrod cock while Lorna rode his tingling tongue until she yelled, and then we switched until I yelled, and then we switched again. Stan finally fired his torpedoes into Lorna. She sank without a trace. I mean, she fell on the floor beside the low sofa. Good thing the terracotta tiles were covered with fine ethnic rugs.

The feast was great. The people were kind, funny, generous, well-turned-out, quirky, and loud in several languages. We had a blast.

We must do this next year and more -- spend New Xmas with our families and Old Xmas with the Orhtodoxoi. And we will have babies to celebrate. This even the two Thanksgivings, the Canadian and American. Better food.

We went to Stan's bed early because Lorna and I must be up early the next morning for the hour-long drive to the rez and our jobs. Stan ate our pussies as much as we could stand and fucked us as much as he could endure. We blew him back to life as much as possible. When he was beyond hardening, we blew him anyway while his tongue tickled a clit.

Stan was hard again when the early alarm rang. We woke and peed and cleaned, and he ran his old trick. Lorna and I lay side by side on the edge of his big bed, our legs spread wide, our faces turned to kiss and tongue-tussle. He ate us both till we moaned. Then he fucked into me a dozen times, then into Lorna, then back, then faster and more times, until he came into me -- and then he pinched his urethra and shot his other half-quart of cum into Lorna.

That trick is what got us into trouble for the Pioneertown party but it always feels great. Wait, did I say trouble? We are having his babies!

I try to tell myself I am not crazy in love with Stan like Lorna is. Really, I try.

=====

POSTSCRIPT: You may wonder what happened to fuck-cousins Anathea and Lazlo at the Church of the Naked Jesus festival, which turned out to be an all-day-all-night orgy for hundreds of pervs with money and/or connections. Stan said the freckled pair crawled into the dunking tank around noon the next day. The water stayed murky until evening.

They willingly gave themselves to total violation. Every hole was plugged. Every protrusion was slurped or enveloped or inserted somewhere. Each joined all-girl or all-boy or mixed daisychains. They became aware of new preferences and kinks, some less than sanitary.

Stan fears Anny will build a BDSM playroom in her barn. He could accept that but he WILL veto a public gloryhole. She can have one in town if she wants.

The End?

Author's note: This story by Hypoxia Smurf is copyright (c) 2018. I tried to get details right, even what I invented. I may have caught most typos but yet more eye surgery awaits. Your constructive comments, suggestions, fantasies, and bribes are welcome, really. I am begging you! If you like this tale, join the 1% and VOTE!