Alana’s Magic Lamp

by Sahara Kelly

  Stay still? Stuffed full of genie cock and microseconds away from an end-of-the-world orgasm and he said stay still?

  Sami’s fingers parted her swollen labia and eased even more of her clit from beneath its protective hood. He was buried so far inside her that their bodies were slammed tight and it was a matter of less than an inch for him to rub himself against her.

  Slowly and surely, a tremendous orgasm started. Her buttocks tingled and she could almost feel the blood rushing to her tissues.

  Sami’s abrading caress continued bringing her up and up until she knew she couldn’t stand it any more.

  Then—it happened. Alana screamed as wave upon wave of shattering spasms rocked her body.

  Hari yelled with pleasure and Sami sobbed out a breath as her violent contractions clamped down on their cocks.

  Unwilling to let it go, Sami continued his movements, and Alana’s eyes flew open as she realized it wasn’t over.

  Hari pushed in even more and Sami bit down on her nipple. Another stronger pulse hit her, starting low on her spine and exploding through every nerve ending. Gasping and voiceless, Alana closed her eyes and rode out the storm, unable to believe that wave after wave of orgasms were sweeping through her. Sami released her breast, threw his head back and yelled, his cock pumping and throbbing inside Alana and bringing on another orgasm.

  Hari, helpless against the twin onslaughts of Sami’s and Alana’s orgasms, gave up the fight and let himself come again, pressing Alana’s shoulders back against his chest as he, too, trembled with the force of his climax.

  They held each other tight as the blue fog seeped from Alana’s body to mix with the sweat, the lotion and the sex juices that were now liberally splattered everywhere.

  It was too much for Alana. She leaned her head back against Hari, locked her arms around Sami’s neck, and passed out.

  * * * * *

  Thousands of years later, Alana struggled back to consciousness. Well, it felt like it could have been thousands of years—although more practically, it was probably only minutes.

  She was lying flat on her back between two completely dead-to-the-world genies. The air above the bed was thick with blue fog, and tendrils were still swirling from her pussy. She stretched gently, and surprised herself with a little fart. Blue fog coiled upwards.

  “Oh swell. Now I’m doing it too…” she muttered, rolling to the side and farting fog once more.

  She buried her blushing face in the pillow as a snicker of laughter emerged from Hari’s side of the bed.

  “Don’t you dare laugh at me,” she mumbled into the silk. “It’s your fault I’m full of fog.”

  Hari’s rich laugh woke Sami.

  “Our delight is finding that she can call the camels with blue fog, my brother…”

  “Call the camels?”

  “Sometimes the sound of escaping gas can sound like the grunt of a camel—we refer to it as ’calling the camels’,” explained Hari, following it up with a rather boisterous demonstration of his own.

  Not to be outdone, Sami moved slightly and contributed another camel call.

  “Okay—guys—thank you. I get the point. Just so that you know—it’s not considered polite to do that in mixed company.”

  Alana sat up and tried to look severe, failing entirely as another small fart exploded from her ass and belched blue fog up her back.

  There was dead silence for a moment, and then all three burst into laughter, holding each other and giggling until the tears were running down Alana’s face, and Hari and Sami were clasping their ribs in pain.

  They would stop for a moment, then one would catch the eye of the others and they would start anew. Just when she thought they were getting their wits back, Alana lost the battle of the clenched cheeks and popped out another small blue cloud.

  That was all it took—hysteria ruled again.

  By the time they had actually relaxed enough to enjoy rational conversation, Alana felt it was time for a few answers.

  “So guys—did I make the Harem of Sheik Sami, here?”

  She leaned over and kissed him soundly on the lips.

  “Mmmm…” said Sami. “Alana-love, you kicked every other concubine firmly out on their asses.”

  “It was something else, Alana,” added Hari, who then got his own mouth soundly kissed in gratitude.

  Alana struggled up onto the pillows and put her arms around their shoulders, bringing them in close to her body. It felt natural, warm, and comforting—like being snuggled in a basket of puppies.

  “Why me, guys?”

  “What do you mean, dear delight?”

  “Why did you pick me? Why was I the one allowed to buy your vessel?”

  Chapter 15

  “In truth, we do not know, Alana,” Hari answered her question.

  “The Guardian is the one who handles our assignments—but we can tell you that there is always a good reason for his choices. Perhaps it is that you will bear a child someday who is destined for great achievements?”

  Alana pondered this statement.

  “Or maybe you will be able to provide love and satisfaction to a man who will very much need what you can give him now,” added Sami.

  “There are as many reasons as stars in the sky, Alana-delight,” murmured Hari, circling her nipple delicately with his finger.

  “But whatever they are, we are certainly glad that the Guardian sent us to you.”

  “So, do I graduate? Was that my final exam, so to speak?” asked Alana, dreading the answer.

  “Well, yes and no,” said Sami, grinning.

  “In ordinary circumstances, your achievements would have guaranteed your graduation—we’d have a small ceremony and that would be it.”

  “But? I sense a definite ’but?’ there, Sami,” stated Alana, poking him in the chest. She nearly bent her finger backwards.

  “We—“ Sami nodded across her at Hari, who’d replaced his finger with his tongue and was doing lovely playful things to her nipple, “…we have received new instructions. Apparently the Guardian is very impressed with your abilities and would like to meet you himself. How do you feel about a field trip?”

  Alana jumped up, nearly knocking Hari off the bed with her breast.

  “Ooof.”

  “Oh—sorry, Hari, but this is sooo exciting. Can I really meet the Guardian? Can I go with you two someplace, or will he come here? How’s this going to work? Are you going to, like, scatter my particles and re-energize them or something? Like a transporter beam? Um—do I want that?” Thoughts burbled out of Alana’s mouth so fast she lost track of them herself.

  She only sputtered to a stop when she realized that once again, her genies were cracking themselves up with laughter.

  “Hey—cut it out, you two.” She smacked Hari gently upside the head and tugged Sami’s ear. “I’ve never met a Guardian before—he’s a pretty big honcho to you guys. I think it’s thrilling…”

  Trying hard to quell the giggles, Hari and Sami took deep breaths and resumed their positions as bookends to Alana’s delightful library.

  In an effort to concentrate, Sami focused on her breast this time, while Hari, sensualist that he was, cupped her mound and kept his hand still, allowing the warmth to penetrate to her still-recovering clit. It trembled slightly, recognizing the touch of a master.

  “No, Alana, there is no transporting or anything—we are not aliens and this is not ‘Star Trek’. We will simply lie together and concentrate, and you will find your consciousness will travel elsewhere. There is a journey involved, but you will travel within our vessel, not an energizing beam. There is no ‘Scotty’. Our vessel does not, in fact, have any engines. Its purpose is not to travel through space so much as it is to navigate temporal distortions and…”

  “Okay. Too much information, Hari. You lost me right after ‘this is not Star Trek’. Just as long as I know it’s safe. Oh—what do I wear? I do get clothes for this trip, right? I don’t have to float through wormholes or whateve
r in my birthday suit…or some kind of early Turkish handkerchief…”

  Sami closed his eyes and rested his head on her breast. Hari leaned his forehead on her shoulder.

  “The essential woman. We should have known,” he groaned.

  “Well, it’s important to me, guys. A girl has to look her best when meeting the Guardian, don’t you think?”

  Hari chuckled. “I don’t think you need to worry on that score, Alana-delight. The Guardian has only permitted two other students to visit Anyela in our memory, so he must already think you are something quite special.”

  “He will love you as we do, Alana,” added Sami with a quick lick to her sensitive skin. “But do not worry—we shall provide you with all you need.”

  “Perhaps it would be best for you to rest for a little while, this has been a physically challenging experience—especially for you, love…”

  Hari slid his hand beneath her and caressed her naked buttocks. “Are you sore, Alana-sweet?”

  Alana thought for a moment, examining her body’s reactions. “Actually, no. Which I find quite surprising—I thought I wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week.”

  “I promised you we’d not hurt you, didn’t I?” said Sami. “Hari is very good at gauging how much you can take.”

  “Hari is very good, period. As are you, Sami. I have absolutely no complaints…” she smiled, and stifled a yawn.

  “That is good to hear,” smiled Sami.

  He exchanged glances with Hari, who nodded. “Rest now, treasure of our hearts, you have a big day ahead of you…”

  Sami leaned over and dropped the lightest of kisses on Alana’s eyelids.

  She slid bonelessly down from the pillows, sound asleep.

  * * * * *

  She awoke alone.

  Tucked beneath the softest of comforters, Alana struggled back to consciousness and stretched her spine. Something was different. Perhaps it was the fact that she couldn’t feel anything warm and hard and male next to her. She pouted and opened her eyes.

  “Whoa, Toto—this definitely isn’t Kansas…” she breathed, as she sat up and looked around.

  No way was this the result of Sami’s decorating magic.

  She was in the middle of a very large bed, swathed with sheer hangings. The room seemed round on one side, with hundreds of little glass windows high up on the curved wall. The glass was in different colors, so the light glittering through caught the refracted tones and bounced them all over the place. It was a cross between a rainbow and a disco ball, and it made her pupils contract fiercely.

  She rubbed her eyes and slid off the bed.

  Beneath her feet was the most luxurious oriental carpet she’d ever seen. It almost seemed a sin to walk on it.

  “You like my rug?”

  Sami’s voice startled her.

  “It’s exquisite, Sami. I’ve never seen anything quite so incredible…” She passed a toe delicately across a teal blue design. “The colors are so rich and bright.”

  “It’s a favorite of mine. A gift, from someone special—long ago.” There was something in his voice that caught Alana’s attention, but before she could pursue it, Hari came in behind Sami with coffee in his hands.

  “Greetings, Alana—and welcome to our home. Did you rest well? We decided on Sami’s room for you, not for any special reason, but because he won the toss…”

  Hari’s smile could have charmed the shell off a turtle, and Alana couldn’t help but smile back.

  He crossed the room, took her in his arms and kissed her long and passionately.

  “Wow,” she breathed.

  Sami pushed Hari out of the way. “My turn,” he grinned, pressing his chest firmly against her naked breasts and devouring her mouth.

  “Hmpf” squawked Alana, dropping onto the bed.

  “God, you guys know how to wake a girl up in the morning, don’t you?” Her breath returning, she looked at the coffee. “Is that for me? Or are we going to jump each other’s bones here? I want to know, because I kind of like a schedule, and I want to see the rest of your home too…if that’s OK? Not that I don’t want sex, because I do, I mean, well right at this moment…um—“

  Alana realized she was looking at them from the bottom of a rather large hole she’d just dug with her mouth.

  “Where’s the ladies room?”

  Hari grinned, passed her the mug of coffee and led her to a door.

  “Help yourself to whatever you need, Alana-love. When you’re done go through that door,” he gestured towards another opening, “and you’ll find us.”

  Alana entered their bathroom with a great deal of curiosity.

  It did seem, however, that Sami’s exotic decorating touch didn’t extend to creating an “Arabian Nights” themed bath.

  The fixtures were lovely—a bath big enough for ten (at least), a large shower with a myriad of showerheads that shot water at just about every part of the body (gotta try that out), a toilet that looked just like—well, a toilet, and a massive vanity with many small cupboards around its huge central mirror. There were deep crimson towels folded neatly on a small vanity chair and a deep crimson rug on the floor.

  The soaps, shampoos and lotions were all—no surprise—Blue Lotus. God, she had to take some of them back with her. She couldn’t imagine being without that fragrance now.

  The shower was as refreshing as she had guessed—she’d had to turn off a couple of the more personally-oriented jets—and she felt ready for anything as she toweled off the last drops of moisture and smoothed the Blue Lotus lotion all over her body.

  She caught sight of herself in the mirror and paused.

  She’d changed. Or had she? Her hair was the same, her face looked exactly as it had always looked. Her skin was glowing, but that could be the shower and the rub with the lovely bath towel.

  She realized that she was holding her body differently. Her back was straighter, her breasts thrust forward with nipples taut and prominent, and her hips seemed curvier. She looked, in a word, sexual. She realized that what had changed was inside her, not outside. Her body was now sending out little pings of sexual sonar—she had a new awareness of what her body could do, and she liked it. Smiling, she sent up a prayer of thanks to the Patron Saint of Hallucinations. Whoever he was, he was certainly putting in overtime on this one.

  It took moments for her to find Hari and Sami.

  This must be their kitchen, she supposed, because there was an interesting blend of modern conveniences. There was a totally modern microwave—and a few antiques, including a cooking pot, which looked as if Caesar might have whipped up a stew in it, resting on a shelf.

  The guys themselves lounged on stools that could have come from the most modern furniture store or Achmed’s Bazaar a thousand years ago. Such was the nature of furniture. Form follows function. Alana grinned at the wayward thought.

  “You are happy, love?” asked Hari as he moved towards her.

  “I am clean, happy, feeling the caffeine do its job, and ready for anything,” grinned Alana. “Do I get clothes yet?”

  “Nope,” answered Sami wickedly. “We don’t dress indoors.”

  He was right. Both were splendidly naked, slightly aroused, and enough to make a girl cream her nonexistent knickers just from looking at them.

  Alana sighed.

  “Can I see the rest of your home before we get off track and into each other?” she asked wryly.

  Sami chuckled, and Hari grasped her hand.

  “This way, Alana, let’s satisfy your curiosity and then turn our attention to satisfying something else…” He smiled wickedly.

  The vessel was surprisingly large.

  The kitchen door led to a passage. Hari opened a door and said simply, “My room.”

  Alana peeked in. There was a definite touch of the austere, which suited Hari, she thought. Black and white ruled the day—a huge four-poster bed was draped in a black spread and covered with white cushions. Brass fixtures were scattered around the room and
the windows at the top of Hari’s wall were iridescent. The light that bounced in fractured into brilliance rather than color.

  Alana’s attention was caught by a painting—the only one on the wall—of a woman, sitting by a fountain, letting the water drip through her fingers. Light danced across her soft blonde hair and touched her beautiful breasts as she leaned over the ripples.

  “Oh Hari—how lovely,” she breathed, allowing her critical eye to absorb the mastery of the artist.

  “Um—yeah. I like it,” was all Hari said.

  Alana registered his comment. Hmmm, she thought to herself. And again, hmmm.

  Leaving Hari’s room, they moved down the passage, passing what looked like an office or library, and into the large living area. There were comfortable, over-stuffed couches, a couple of well-used recliners, a large television and—yes—a cable box on top of it.

  “We have only just learned of your DVD technology—and have secured a unit that will probably be installed when we arrive at Anyela,” said Sami, waving at an unopened box, which loudly announced it contained Japanese technical equipment.

  “Ah, testosterone rules,” she muttered, smiling at the pride of the gender in high-tech.

  She moved towards a beautiful display case—probably French, she mused, noting the elegant carvings and exquisite craftsmanship.

  Proudly sitting by itself on one shelf was a glass flower.

  She moved closer.

  “This is truly amazing guys—what is it?”

  Sami moved over to her side and opened the door to the cabinet.

  “Is it Venetian? Murano maybe? Fifteenth century?” Her eyes were glued on the flower, spellbound by the light that trickled into the petals, bounced around the different shades of blue that drifted from a deep purplish-navy to a pale white blue, and then hit the vibrant yellow center.

  It seemed almost alive as it rested on a swirl of flat green leaves.

  “Your knowledge of such things is impressive, Alana,” said Hari, moving to her side and pressing a kiss to her cheek.

  “Yes, it is Venetian—early sixteenth century, actually, and commissioned for us by —by a friend. It is a Blue Lotus.”

  He said no more, and Alana glanced at him. He stared at the flower but she could tell his thoughts were elsewhere.