by Sahara Kelly
Just when she thought she would die if she didn’t come—it happened. An orgasmic explosion racked her body with the most exquisite tremors, and every muscle she had spasmed for what seemed like hours. A sob erupted from her throat and she fell back onto the bed and into oblivion.
Chapter 2
Alana came slowly back to consciousness feeling better than she could ever remember feeling before. Her body was relaxed, sated, and felt as boneless as a slug. She stretched her arms high above her head and smiled as she opened her eyes. God, that had been good…
She froze. Rising from her dewy skin was a soft blue vapor, trailing this way and that, softly caressing her and making her pores tingle. It felt wonderful, but it was blue vapor. Blue vapor should not be in her bedroom swathing her body like some weird Hollywood special effect. She shut her eyes again, determined that it would be gone when she opened them. Turning her head to the side, she slowly opened one eye.
A wickedly handsome face smiled at her.
“Oh, God…”
She turned the other way and opened the same eye.
Another wickedly handsome face was openly grinning at her.
She shrieked and leapt off the bed, clearing the strange bodies in a single bound. Trembling against the wall, she clasped her robe and struggled into it.
“Who the hell are you…what are you doing here…how did you get in?”
Her questions ran out of steam as she got her first good look at who had been sharing her bed.
They were, in a word, splendid. A matched set, and yet different, one had a mane of hair that was so blond it was almost silver, while the other had long dark curls with glints of fire. They shared magnificent chests, broad shoulders, and arms that were solid, strong and firmly muscled. Apparently, neither believed in clothing, because they were both stark naked. Their skins were golden—and Alana realized that it was not the gold of a tan, but a real golden glow—almost as if they were acting as their own light source.
Unashamed, they lay on the bed gazing at her, one resting on a propped up arm, the other with his hands casually behind his head.
She couldn’t help herself—she looked…
Even at rest, they were flaunting equipment as splendid as she’d expected. Two thick, solid and well-developed cocks nestled in beds of softly curling hair, the color contrasts pleasing to the eye. Alana gazed, fascinated, as they lay there smiling, almost as if they were basking in her approval.
“Okay—did Janet put you up to this? Are you two Chippendale dancers or a strip-o-gram or something?” She pulled her robe tighter and knotted the belt securely.
“And what’s with the blue fog? It might work on Halloween, but not in early September—too spooky.”
One turned to the other.
“She is not aware of our identity, my brother.”
“Indeed not, my brother. We should enlighten her before our tutoring duties can begin.”
As one, they rose and bowed gracefully to Alana. Given her present garb, she felt it rather inappropriate to curtsy back, but it was close…
“I am Sami and this is my brother Hari. We are from the pleasure dimension and we are here to see to your education in all things pleasurable.”
Sami (the blond one, mentally categorized Alana so that she could keep them straight) waved his hand around the room expansively. “You will become our student.”
“I’m dead, aren’t I?”
“By the gods, no, Mistress Alana. You are certainly not dead. Did you not just prove that conclusively?” said Hari in a deeply seductive voice.
Alana’s buttocks clenched against the memory of her orgasm.
“In that case, I’m in a coma,” she replied. “Definitely a coma. Or this is some kind of drug-induced hallucination—or…no that can’t be right, because I don’t do drugs. So it’s a regular orgasm-induced hallucination—hey yeah, that’s it…” She pressed herself even further back against the wall.
“No wait—it’s that damn Blue Lotus. I could smell it earlier from that vessel…” Her voice trailed off as she looked at the vessel. There were no handles on its sides at all—it was smooth all the way around. She looked at Sami and Hari and at Sami’s and Hari’s cocks. She looked at the vessel again, and the cocks again.
“I’m going mad,” she moaned, slithering down to the floor in a lump.
Two chuckles greeted this statement as Sami bent down and casually picked her up off the floor.
“Hey—what—just you put me…where are you taking me?” Completely befuddled by the ease with which she had been picked up off the floor—and she wasn’t a lightweight stick woman, either—Alana stuttered into silence as she was carried into the bathroom.
Sami gently lowered her onto the closed toilet seat.
“Now, Mistress Alana, sit and listen while we prepare your bath.”
“But I already took a shower…”
Both heads turned and gazed solemnly at her.
“Sorry.”
“Sami and I are travelers. We go where we are needed to help people of this world discover the truth which lies inside them.” Hari was testing the water from the faucets as he spoke, his soothing voice calming Alana’s troubled spirit.
“We are from a race of beings called Djinn—what your children’s tales call genies.”
Alana tilted her head to one side. “As in rub the lamp and out you pop, I suppose. Well, hell. I sure did rub the lamp. Aren’t I supposed to get three wishes or something?”
Sami laughed. “That is so yesterday, Mistress,” he grinned, and Alana couldn’t help smiling back at his huge blue eyes that definitely twinkled at her. “Today we travel throughout your world, and others known only to our kind, and we don’t grant wishes so much as help you get in touch with your inner sexuality…” He gently laid a finger on her cleavage, making her body tingle.
“So you’re asking me to believe that you two are some sort of intergalactic Dr. Ruth counseling service that’s going to help me get in touch with my inner slut? And I do this by having wild genie sex with the both of you. Yeah, right. See this? This is my ’Oh-sure-I-buy-that’ face…” Alana snorted from a combination of stress and arousal. No getting away from it, these were two bodacious men, and they were naked, and they were in her bathroom…
“I don’t think Dr. Ruth is a good analogy, my brother…” added Hari, as he stirred some sort of oil into the bath water. A wonderful fragrance rose into the steamy air and Alana felt dizzy for a second or two.
“Hey—how do you two know about Dr. Ruth anyway?” she asked suspiciously.
“She has her own show on cable.”
“Wait a minute. You guys have cable in your bottle—er—vessel—er—thing…?” They exchanged rather embarrassed glances.
“Aha.” Alana smirked at them. “I knew you two were fakes. You couldn’t get cable in there…”
“Well, actually, we do get it but we don’t have a legal converter,” said Hari, busying himself with the bath.
“Wait—how do you…” What am I doing? I’m arguing with a pair of genies over whether they get cable TV in their bottle. I should be asking them if they get the premium services! Closing her eyes, Alana gave in to the moment.
“Yes, we do get the premium services too…” grinned Sami, watching Alana’s face as she struggled to adjust to this wild situation.
“You must love the Playboy channel,” she murmured, trying hard not to look at Hari’s buns as he turned off the water. Ohmigod, they were so fine…
Sami straightened and faced her without his usual smile. “No, Mistress. We do not enjoy that channel. It is demeaning to women. The men are mostly unattractive and do not take care of themselves, and they can last only for a very short time. We have yet to see the act of love performed correctly.”
“And the production values are very poor. It’s sad…” added Hari thoughtfully.
“But enough—time to begin your learning program.” Hari scooped Alana off the toilet seat and held her ove
r the tub. Blue petals were now floating in the water and a soft, seductive fragrance curled around her legs like steam.
“My robe, wait, don’t drop me.”
“I would not dream of doing that, Mistress, and we must certainly rid you of that—did you call it a robe?” Sami had swiftly unknotted her bathrobe and slid it away from her body almost before she knew it had happened. He held it out to the side with a puzzled look on his face.
“Mistress, I am sorry to complain of your attire, but even the lowliest of our eunuchs would not wipe his shoes with this—this rag.”
“Hey! That’s my favorite bathrobe. It may not be brand new or expensive, but it is comfortable, and I love it!”
Hari sighed. “Sit, Mistress, we must brush your hair before you bathe.” He urged her down onto a towel he had folded over the edge of the large bathtub, and as she sat, Sami began to brush her hair.
She couldn’t help it, she closed her eyes, trying to remember the last time somebody had brushed her hair just because he wanted to. It was wonderful. Then another pair of hands smoothed her hair away from her face and gently pinned it on top of her head.
“Now, Mistress, into the water with you.” She opened her eyes and gasped to see Sami standing in the tub with his hands out waiting for her to join him.
Her eyes widened and she hesitated.
“Mistress, our job is to release you from those bonds which hold the real you imprisoned within. To do this we will find ways to demonstrate to you what your body and your mind and your heart are capable of feeling and experiencing. Put yourself in our hands—let us help and do what we are trained to do.” Hari’s chocolate voice poured over Alana and she gave a mental shrug.
“What the heck. If this is a hallucination, it’s a damn fine one. I’d be an idiot not to enjoy it to the max.” Surprising herself, she slowly sank into the tub, relishing the warmth and the feel of the scented water as it lapped against her skin.
Sami knelt in front of her and she felt Hari settle himself outside on the floor behind her.
“Okay boys, do your worst,” she said bravely.
“Oh I don’t think it’s our worst, by any means, just our beginning lessons,” murmured Hari.
She gasped as his hands gently swished the water around her breasts. Sami had grabbed the soap and had begun to lather her toes. Why hadn’t she realized her toes were so sensitive? Especially when her breasts were surfing waves made by another pair of strong hands?
Sami moved up to her calves, and Hari helped himself to another bar of soap, working up a lather that he massaged into her shoulders.
“This soap—it’s not my regular soap, is it?” mumbled Alana, adrift on a sea of sensation.
“No, Mistress. We carry some necessary teaching aids with us. This is our own Blue Lotus soap, made for us by Nubians with the plant which blooms only at night along the banks of a faraway river…” Hari’s voice trailed off as his hands began to make smooth, soapy circles around her breasts. Sami was continuing his journey north and had reached her thighs. It seemed as if the water was getting hotter, someone had turned the heat on, or her body was experiencing a violent thermal reaction. Okay, it was probably the latter, because she was starting to throb, warmly, not too far north of Sami.
She rested her head back and found Hari’s shoulder conveniently there. His lips brushed her ear followed by a light breath of air. Her nipples puckered and Hari favored them with a soapy caress. Meanwhile, Sami was lathering her thighs and stroking the soap rhythmically along her muscles, getting nearer and nearer to her pulsating woman’s flesh. She could almost feel herself swelling.
Sami eased her legs further apart so that he could sit comfortably between her thighs. Hari gently put his hands beneath her armpits and lifted her body slightly as Sami slid his long legs underneath her buttocks. She was now essentially sitting on Sami’s legs.
Hari returned his attention to her breasts as Sami began tenderly soaping her tight black curls. She moaned slightly as his fingers found her clit and teased it lightly for a second or two.
“Not yet, Mistress. This is for you to enjoy and relax—do not rush. We have much ahead of us.”
Thinking that if it got much better than this, she was absolutely going to expire of bliss, Alana merely sighed and moved her shoulders so that Hari could get a better grip on both breasts.
A familiar sensation brought her head up with a snap.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Sami glanced up from where he was running a razor over her mound. “I am shaving you, Mistress.”
“Well I can see that, you—you genie. I don’t want to be shaved…do you hear? Stop that, I’ll get those awful ingrown nubbies, I hate it.” She tried to dislodge Sami by easing away from him.
Hari stilled her with his hands on her breasts, while Sami held her thighs apart with his hands.
“Mistress, I do not intend to shave you bald, but at the moment you are as hairy as a Himalayan trader.”
She snorted, having no idea exactly what Himalayan traders looked like, but figuring that yaks probably had to be in there somewhere.
“Well don’t you dare make a cute shape down there—no champagne glasses or lightning bolts, thank you very much.”
Sami bit his lip, while Hari turned his head away, turning a laugh into a cough.
“Mistress Alana, by removing some of your hair, we will reveal skin which will be sensitive to the slightest touch. Warmth and pressure will be greater, and your sensual pleasures will multiply. Is this not a good thing? Is it not worth a few moments now and then to deal with the—what did you call them—nubbies?”
“Really?” she asked.
“Watch,” answered Hari.
Sami delicately wielded the razor and within moments, Alana’s mound was tidily trimmed down to a much smaller tuft of curls. Then Sami put his hands beneath her and raised her from the water.
“What—hey—he’s…” she stuttered.
“Watch…” said Hari again, running his tongue around her ear as his fingers rolled her nipples between his soapy fingers.
Sami ran his tongue over her newly smooth flesh, and then gently blew on it.
Alana nearly went through the roof.
“Ohmigod… Ohmigod…” Incapable of speech, she watched as Sami’s talented tongue took over and swirled over her mound and down towards her clit. She knew she was soaking wet; between Hari and Sami and the soap and the bare skin she was one great big quivering, raw, exposed sex nerve and someone was about to get on it.
Hari held her close to his chest and continued to work her ears, neck and throat with his tongue. His fingers pulled and pinched and mounded her breasts as they swelled with arousal, and Sami’s mouth worked her weeping pussy as she gasped for breath.
Sobbing, she tried to pull back, but Sami would not let her break their contact, gripping her buttocks hard with his strong fingers.
“Let it go, Mistress. Let it go—come for us—come now…”
“Come now, Alana—Come… “ Hari’s voice in her ear was the finishing touch, and with a scream of pleasure, Alana came. And came. And came.
Chapter 3
Morning crept into Alana’s bedroom in slow degrees. The leaves that shaded her windows also admitted the dappled sunrise, and it was to this gentle light that she usually awoke. This particular morning, the light was coupled with the fragrant scent of coffee and Alana smiled and breathed deeply as she stretched her legs like a cat.
“Ooof.”
“Sore, Mistress?”
Her eyes flew open and met the brilliant blue of Sami’s gaze as he raised himself up and began soothing her thighs with his warm hand.
“Holy cow! You guys weren’t a dream, were you?” Her head swiveled to the other side of the bed, but it was empty.
“Where’s Hari?”
“Hari slept in our home. For this past night, mine was the pleasure of holding you as you slept. I believe he’s making coffee for us as we speak.�
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Too content to fuss about who’d been cuddling whom, Alana simply nodded and relaxed into Sami’s arms. His magic fingers were doing wonderful things to her sleep-warmed skin, and she could not recall feeling such physical bliss in a man’s embrace— ever.
“Mmmm, Sami…” she murmured, feeling his hands caressing her mound with gentle strokes as his lips brushed across her breast. His hair was soft and fine, and teased her skin, leaving tingles of pleasure behind. He was oh-so-slowly arousing her, but definitely succeeding. She felt the telltale moisture begin to pool between her legs.
“Relax, Alana—‘tis the best way to start the day,” said Sami as he rubbed his strong body along hers and slid down to her pussy. His incredible tongue took over, smoothing her juices over her swollen flesh, teasing, flicking, sucking, and playing in every nook and cranny he could find. His hands soothed her belly, cupped her freshly shaved mound, and then worked their way back up to her nipples, rubbing, rolling and pulling them to excruciating peaks of sensitivity.
Her head arched back deep into the pillow as wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure swept her body. Her pussy seemed to clench and spasm forever, drowning his tongue as it encouraged the sensations, sweeping her from one peak to the next in a gentle frenzy.
“Wow…” she gasped, trying to catch her breath. “That was…that was something else.”
Sami smiled, her moisture gleaming on his handsome face. Another small tremor of pleasure shook her as she gazed at this incredible man.
“You see, Alana, not every climax must make you scream and reach the stars. Some can roll gently over you…”
“Yeah—an orgasmic steamroller. You’ve killed me, Sami. I am now officially dead. The death certificate will say I died of extreme pleasure.” Alana let her body flop onto the bed, powerless to do anything more than grin.