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the talking penis in the back seat

The next Tuesday, in the front seat of Elaine’s little Mini-Cooper, Angela clumsily bent forward to re-lace one of her new hiking boots, wondering if it was possible to dance in them. Certainly not as gracefully and elegantly as Kai-Kai did on that Canadian TV show. She smiled at the thought of the boy doing that dance, wearing nothing but these clunky things.


“His I-4 should be over by now,” Elaine said, stopping in front of Tuolomne Hall. At 1:15 Kai-Kai had been assigned to ejaculate into Mrs. Imani Kassoma of Malanje, Angola, in the office of Prof. Marcus Morandi of the World Studies Department, who was away for the summer. No sooner had Elaine said these words than her teenaged brother, having discharged his sperm and unburdened by any bookbag, emerged from the front door and ran toward them over the grass with childish glee, like a little boy who had escaped his bath to run naked and squealing across the front lawn. “He’s really into this!“ Angela giggled. “I don’t blame him,” Elaine said, with somewhat more seriousness. Even his grass-stained feet and swinging genitals seemed to be giddy as he ran downhill, leapt over a low hedge, then braked on his tough heels and quickly slid into the back seat, only slightly winded.


Angela thought, naturally, that Elaine would be quick to get going. Instead she kept idling the engine. “Aren’t we going to go?”


“We’re waiting for Linda and Susie,” the naked Sire said, peering out the window. Now two girls, in hiking boots and lugging drawstring bags, came out. One was white, with long blond hair, in shorts and a T-shirt. The other was African-American with a checkerboard blouse and matching checkerboard pants. Elaine laughed. “Linda Ottey, fashion pioneer!” “Ha!” her brother assented. “She’s like that.”


The two girls, teenagers like Kai-Kai, were chatting on the way to the car and did not stop when they got in next to Kai-Kai who slid over. “You gave us the slip!” said the apostle of checkerboard clothing. “Yeah, we were waiting right outside Morandi’s office,” Ms. Hadley said. “Finally we knocked, and your lady said we could come in. It was just her on the desk, in A.S.” “A.S.” was Project-speak for “absorb-supine”, the position procreators rested in after the Sire withdrew, during which they caught their breath and allowed his semen to pool against the cervix. At least one minute was recommended, though most of the women, recovering from the Sire’s considerable displacement, preferred to lie there longer.


“She said you already left. Where did you go? Out the window?”, said Ms. Hadley. “Yeah!” protested Ms. Ottey. “Don’t you love us anymore? Cone! Cone!” “Yeah! Cone!” Ms. Hadley joined in. Then both girls said, “Cone! Cone!!” Angela didn’t know what that meant. Evidently an in-joke among this year’s freshmen.


“Sorry! I didn’t know you were waiting for me!” Kai-Kai said with more amusement than apology, as Elaine navigated the Mini-Cooper up the hill toward the East Gate. “I went out through Mrs. Fogerty’s office.” Clara Fogerty was the department secretary. “Quicker that way!”


“So how’d it go?” Ms. Ottey, or perhaps we should say Linda, said. “You two were awfully quiet in there.” “Pretty good,” the boy answered, watching the redwoods go by. “Mrs. Kassoma came five times, actually,” he said, not as a boast but as a compliment to that lady. “Every time I got ready to deliver, she began to come again. Her pitch was only three inches, so the load was smallish, but I got a good angle.” He was used to giving a full report, when asked.


“Too bad, after that inspection,” Ms. Hadley (Susie) responded. On Tuesdays, instead of an I-3, Kai-Kai went to Lab 6 for the weekly inspection, during which he was kept on the brink of orgasm without being allowed to ejaculate. Consequently the I-4 usually received a big load.


“Five times! Wow!” Linda said. Actually the record for an impreg was thirteen, experienced by Maria Fuentes, a 38-year-old mother of four from Sabana Hoyos, Puerto Rico, a few months ago. It was an I-6 in the Schreibers’ living room, and Angela was there, having been invited to dinner. It almost got to be a joke, Angela and Elaine and Kai-Kai’s parents smiling at each other over their coffees, as the boy, in his usual prelude to delivering his seed, changed the angle of penetration and began his polite low moan, only to see that Mrs. Fuentes was not yet finished. Even the Sire seemed a little amused, and waited with infinite patience, as she went past her eighth and ninth orgasm and on to numbers ten, eleven and twelve.


“Thanks, Sire, for making another baby!” Linda reached over and lifted up Kai-Kai’s penis as if it was a way of shaking his hand. “Yes, thanks!” Susie followed up. Angela didn’t like how people grabbed Kai-Kai’s penis without asking permission. Then, with Susie still grabbing the shaft about halfway down, Linda lifted up the glans so that it was “looking up” at them and pinched the meatus so that it was opening and closing as if forming words. In a deep, fake-male voice she said, “You’re welcome!” Kai-Kai laughed, looking down at the two girls playing with the penis as if it belonged to someone else, or maybe was a toy that belonged to all three of them. Angela decided she didn’t mind this time. It was good to see Kai-Kai with kids his own age, relaxed and joking around. Not on his guard and deferential like he was with older people like herself, or his “ladies”, or Project officials.


“Well Kai-Kai,” Elaine said, “Your I-5 has been pushed back to 5:30. So we've got four hours.” Kai-Kai was thrilled to get away to the mountains for the first time in a long time, but the trip actually meant more to Elaine. It distressed her how the Project controlled her brother’s life. It also peeved her that he just let them do it. She was the one who had gotten the I-5 pushed back, and who had to convince Kai-Kai that it was o.k. to miss his afternoon classes just this once. Four hours free time! A rare luxury for the Sire.


The five of them sat in silence as the little car ascended up twisting roads. “What trail are we going on?” Linda said. A native of San Diego, it was her first time mountain hiking. “Actually not a trail,” said Elaine, who knew the Shasta slopes pretty well. “Or at least we’ll start on one of the higher trails, but it’ll be off-trail mostly. About 20 minutes from now.” Being off trail, outside the view of passing hikers, also had been carefully planned. Everyone in this part of the state knew about the Project, and the gentle Sire went around naked in public, but Elaine preferred to minimize contact with surprised strangers. That is why she picked a weekday for this outing and not a weekend, when the mountain was crawling with hikers, many from out of state.

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