The Djinni and the Lamps - Cover

The Djinni and the Lamps

Copyright© 2005 by exalphageek

Chapter 11

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 11 - Herb is a burnt-out Silicon Valley engineer on a downward slope. He rubs a magic lamp, and a djinni appears. Herb's life improves. Sufficently improved magic cannot be distinguished from technology.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   Fiction   Genie   Harem   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Slow  

As expected, Warren headed over to Kumar's bright and early on his bicycle after teasing his little sister about needing assistance in filling the iPod. I suspected that he and Kumar might be taking an extended work break mid-afternoon.

Lisa smiled at me as he clattered out the door. "So that's what parenting is like."

"Some of it. With the four of us, and all of the djinni, this place is a little small."

"Little?" Lisa arched an eyebrow. "That's an understatement. I love being with you, but there's no way we could fit my stuff and the kids' stuff into this postage stamp. And I guess that I'll have to get a little domestic. Your taste in bed linens is execrable. We'll have to go shopping for that and go shopping for a house... or maybe... you said that your djinni would build you a palace if you wanted."

"Yeah, but a palace in San Jose? I don't want to move the kids away from their friends. Even a castle in Woodside, and I think that you can build castles in Woodside, would take the kids away. They've got enough strangeness in their life already, why not let them keep their friends?"

"So we need a castle in San Jose. Herb, you do make it hard."

"Lisa, honey, I try to... oops, there are underage ears present."

"Herb, you're bringing me into this parenting thing in the middle."

"We can start from the beginning, if you like."

"I like. But it's still starting in the middle. Sarah needs a mother now who can do some parenting..."

My little dynamo chose that moment to throw herself at Lisa. "Oooh, Mommy-Lisa." Lisa hugged her.

Lisa continued. "... and I haven't a clue."

"You seem to be figuring it out."

"But there's more to the job than just hugging your daughter."

"It's a start. You gotta start somewhere. And she's probably desperate for some human contact from someone who cares. You talk to her. She talks to you. And I guess after that, that we just make it up as we go along."

The room filled up with djinni. This morning's knit shirt had the Blue Nile logo. ("We know you gave her a sapphire, but there isn't a web site devoted to sapphires.") The djinni thought it would be a great idea to accompany us to the Ultimate Northern California Wedding and Bridal Fashion Show And Exposition. There wasn't room for them in either the Porsche or the RAV-4, so we told them to meet us just inside the concourse doors. Lisa told me that we were going to meet Nariya just outside.


By the time we got there, the Convention Center was already pandemonium. Unlike most shows and expositions this one did not just have individuals and couples touring the aisles. There were a few couples of just the bride and the groom, and the occasional twosome of a bride-to-be and her best friend, but the bulk of the throng was parties of five or six or eight or more: the bride, her sister or sisters, her best friend or friends, her mother, and occasionally the long-suffering father of the bride, watching his mortgage double or treble as his little darling oohed and aahed.

I leafed through the program while we waited for Nariya. "Hair by Gwen" was at the far corner of the exposition hall. Start the morning by letting Sarah say "thank you." Then, whenever we wanted to leave, our obligations would have been met.

Nariya was her elegant sari-clad self. As she approached us, two Indian girls broke away from their family groups and raced up to her, chattering in... I couldn't figure out which Indian tongue it was yesterday, either. She quieted them with a few words, and sent them back to their families.

"They don't teach youngsters anything these days. This is street clothes. There may be a few silk merchants here. If not, we'll have to go to Berkeley. Hi, Sarah. Hi, Lisa. Hi, Herb."

"What was all that about?"

"They wanted to know where I had gotten my sari. This isn't even work clothes. This is simply cotton. It's not silk. It's not wedding silk. Wedding silk is so fine that you can read stock tables through it, if they're still printing stock tables."

We walked in. Eight giggling djinni surrounded us as we walked through the doors. Nariya paled and swayed for a moment.

"This is normal for you?"

Lisa giggled. "Now? Yes."

"But you just met him last week."

"Last week was a different lifetime. This one is a lot more fun."

Sarah climbed between Lisa and myself and grabbed each of our hands. "Let's go see skinny Jenny's mom."

"Hair by Gwen" was practically in the rear corner of the exhibition hall. Two DJ light trusses bracketed the booth, each with three seventy-five watt spotlights focusing their beams on a high director's chair in the middle of the booth. Gwen stood nervously to one side of the chair, clutching its arm, holding herself back from the crowd in the aisles.

Sarah ran up to her.

"You're ski... uh, Jenny's mom?"

"Yes."

"Thankyouverymuchforthehairbrush. I really like it. It's really nice. Everybody likes to use it."

Gwen sniffed Sarah's hair.

"Somebody takes nice care of your hair. But you do have some split ends. May I?"

I nodded.

Gwen turned to Sarah. "You should introduce us."

Sarah remembered her manners.

"Mommy-Lisa, this is Jenny's mom. Uh, Dad, this is Jenny's mom."

We shook hands.

"You're here for the show?"

"Yes, Lisa and I are planning on getting married, so we thought..."

"She's got some dry ends. You should get her to a hairdresser on a regular basis. Find someone who likes curly hair who will just trim her ends. Just a tiny bit on a regular basis. That's all she needs."

Sarah settled herself into the chair. With hair to trim and scissors in her hand, Gwen relaxed. She was back in her element.

A crowd gathered around the booth as Gwen circled the chair, reaching out to run her fingers though the blond curls and grab fingerfuls of blond hair and trimming off quarter inch lengths. After half a dozen or eight circles, she decided that she was finished. She stuffed her scissors into her apron and fluffed up the blond tresses.

"Done." Gwen turned to us. "I work out of a salon up in the city, but most of what I do is outcall. Now let's get the bride up here..."

Lisa blushed and traded places with Sarah.

"Oh, wow, a blushing bride." Lisa blushed again. Gwen continued, sure of herself now. "Now, here, you need a daily cut that looks better, and you'll need something special for the wedding. Anything in particular you want?"

"Uh,..."

The crowd at "Hair by Gwen" had attracted one of the video cameramen roaming the show. Hair trimming was action that he could tape, as opposed to static booth displays and talking head segments.

"Sharon." He called out to his producer, who seemed to have much less success in navigating the crowd. Maybe having a camera on his shoulder helped the crowd part for him. "Video releases." He pointed to me with his chin as he focused his camera on Lisa sitting in Gwen's chair.

Sharon grabbed a sheaf of video releases out of her backpack and handed them to me. I read through the release. Nothing seemed to jump out at me. Given the disclaimers on the admission when we had paid for our tickets, this didn't seem to add any new strain to the mix. I passed one to Nariya, who stepped back a moment to read it. I could almost watch her go into lawyer mode.

She came back from lawyer-land and turned to me. "Yes, you can sign this. As long as all they do is use it to talk about the show, no problems. If they do anything stupid with the footage, remember that India is a nuclear power."

Gwen was circling Lisa, frowning, stepping forward to play with handfuls of hair, then stepping back, cocking her head to one side, and repeating.

One of the djinni whispered in my ear. "Can we fix the lights? It's not fair for her to have to work with shadows."

I looked at the pattern of light from the three fixtures in each light stand. It was bright, but pale shadows could be seen between the three beams. More fixtures suddenly appeared on each stand.

I turned to the djinni. "Careful. They can only use so much power, or they blow a fuse. But if you use more efficient fixtures, like the one on the video camera..."

As I watched the light stand, the three original fixtures winked out and disappeared, and five smaller, much more intense fixtures shone brightly.

"Much better."

I smiled as the cameraman noticed something in his viewfinder, frowned, and then played with the buttons on the side of his camera. I suspected that the change in the light had caused problems with the settings on his camera.

Gwen had finished studying. "Your daily cut needs to be low-maintenance..."

She trimmed a few ends.

"You'll need to make an appointment. I need to do some serious work. But for the wedding..."

Suddenly she was a swirl of energy, trimming, pinning, arranging. When she stopped, Lisa was transformed. Lisa had gone from businesslike to elegant. Beyond elegant. The rearranged hair changed the shape of her face, seemed to change the angle of her cheekbones. The crowd let out a collective gasp. Most of them had watched Lisa seat herself in the chair, and were stunned at the sudden transformation.

"All you need now is some makeup and a dress. This is all pins and tricks, it won't hold. Don't move your head. But you get the idea."

The cameraman moved in to get the portrait shot. Then the magic show was over. The crowd surged into the booth. Gwen handed out business cards and scribbled appointments into her calendar.

Sharon caught up with us as we edged out of the booth.

"Releases."

"Of course."

I signed. Lisa signed. Sharon pulled a Polaroid out of her backpack and snapped a shot of Lisa, then clipped the picture to the release.

"By the end of the day, I can't remember who was who." Sharon looked at us. "That was great. Can I interview you folks for a moment?"

"Sure."

Sharon dropped her backpack off her shoulder, and pulled a microphone out of a pocket on its side. The cameraman came over to us.

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