Vacation on Rehome
Chapter 13

Copyright© 2015 by Gordon Johnson

Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 13 - Three sisters get the chance of a vacation on a new planet, and they get a major surprise while on their travels, as does their tour guide.

Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   Drunk/Drugged   Heterosexual   Fiction   Science Fiction   Robot   Space   Group Sex   Polygamy/Polyamory   Interracial   First   Pregnancy   Teacher/Student   Military   Politics  

The quartet went off to the dining room for a pleasant meal together. As the food vanished into hungry mouths, he swallowed a last morsel and cleared his throat before speaking. He told them he wanted to know what each of them had been doing while he was away. Eventually they insisted on him doing the same, so he told them about the weird name of the submitter of the seaweed suggestion, and how he finally discovered it was a mechanical avatar of one of the Personalia in orbit. He explained about the work with the Malan children, at which Georgina mumbled, "Oh, the spaceship mentioned them when I was on the way here." Judith simply said, "Oh, yes, we know about them. They are nice kids, I thought. I saw one on the Colony news. Definitely alien, but he was a cute little lad."

George was pleased that someone was familiar with the alien presence on the planet but a little miffed at his own lack of knowledge. "So the colony isn't hiding them, is it?"

"Gosh, no. I heard someone saying they met the children when they were out for a walk with some human children. They act perfectly normally, and apparently everyone around them can chat either in English of Malan, as it suits them. That includes the adults as well." She had a sudden insight. "Golly, that means all the children are bilingual, and they are only three or four years old. They must be quite clever."

George was on firmer ground there. "No, it is well known that young children can pick up several languages without any bother. It seems to be an inbuilt ability in humans, and presumably in Malans as well."

Georgina was fascinated. "I liked what the ship said about the Malans, but I would really like to see them in the flesh some time, George."

He responded, "Certainly, we can ask around, if", when suddenly Marina voiced, "Oh, my..." He turned his face to her and asked, "What is it, dear?"

"A surprise. A surprise, indeed. I think my period just started."

"Eh? I thought you were over your menopause now?"

"Yes. I am, or I was. Seems like my body has a mind of its own. Please excuse me while I go and deal with it. I was not prepared for something like this." She got up and headed for the bathroom. Georgina looked concerned.

"George, as I recall, you can have intermittent periods during the menopause, but not afterwards. Are you sure about her?"

"Pretty well, Georgina. Marina had all the problems, off and on, for a couple of years, then it was over. Her doctor said she was unlikely to have any periods in future. Looks like he was wrong."

Judith was concerned. "But she is only, what, forty-four?"

George responded, "Forty-five, and yes, that apparently that is on the young side, but the doctor said there was no standard time for the menopause. I reckon Marina will not be able to have sex tonight, girls, so I shall just have to manage with the two of you, won't I?"

Georgina looked at him sideways. "George, my darling, perhaps it would not be right for us to have you when Marina is deprived..."

George's face dropped. He looked upset, "But..."

"Just teasing, George. Judith and I will happily fuck you tonight. Marina can have the cuddling afterwards, in compensation. That okay with you, Judith?"

"Certainly. Georgina. As long as I get his loving, I can manage without his body beside me for the rest of the night; though, come to think of it..." She burst into laughter at the look on his face. "Just teasing, George. Marina needs your support tonight, so you must hold her to show how much you still love her, despite her being unable to participate in the fucking."

"Judith, girl, you are starting to fit into the banter of this home. You will make a fine wife, my love, along with Georgina and Marina."

Marina returned before long. She asked George to go prepare the coffee, as she had been unable to attend to that chore. Once he had left the table, she whispered to Georgina, "I used one of your tampons, dear. I hope you don't mind." Georgina looked amused. "Mind? I won't need the damn things until after my baby is born ... sorry, OUR baby."

"Oh, of course, Georgina. Stupid of me, wasn't it? Anyway, I am off-limits to George tonight. Please make sure he isn't neglected, will you?"

"But Marina, you can be there as Judith's tutor for the missionary position, and I shall get George to demonstrate pussy licking. You okay with that?"

"Sounds good, Georgie girl." George reappeared with the coffee pot, and Marina's face suddenly changed. "Oh, George? If I am still having periods, I had better get back on the contraceptive pills. It takes a few days before they work, so..."

George looked at her, his face a picture. "Marina ... darling ... my darling wife ... my darling FIRST wife ... can I ask you a little question?"

"Of course, George. What is it?"

"Would you be terribly upset if I suggested you forget about the contraceptives?"

"Eh? But George, I might get pregnant again. At my age?"

"Exactly, my sweet. I would love to have all three of you expecting at the one time, if it is possible."

Judith burst with excitement, "Yes, please, say yes, Marina. I would love for all three of us to be having babies together!"

Marina was torn between the possibility of getting pregnant, and the trials of middle-age pregnancy. "I may not get pregnant. It is less likely to happen at the age of forty-five, but ... if you all want me to have a go ... all right then."

The others all congratulated her on this momentous decision, while Marina kept saying "I may be too old to conceive again, after all these years..."

Judith added, speaking to Marina, "I want your advice about pleasing our husband tonight. I have to do more, as you will not be able to ... fuck ... George."

Marina frowned at her. "Technically, Judith, it is fucking, but in a good marriage, it is a lot more: it is making love; showing each other that you love them to bits, and you want them to enjoy the ... completeness of married life."

Judith smiled with delight. "That's EXACTLY what I want, Marina. I want to always show George that I love him, and you and Georgina too, of course."

"Very well, dear. Let's see now. The missionary position is vastly under-rated. It basically means that the man lies on top of the woman; the reverse of what you did with George your first time. However, it means he also has the opportunity and ease to fondle your breasts, kiss your nipples, and suck on them too, at times. He normally chooses when he enters your vagina, but if he is a bit slow in getting around to it, you just tell him you want him in NOW, and he will do that for you. Give him a chance to move his dick around inside you. George knows the places that excite me, and you will be just the same for him.

You should be able to get one or more orgasms from him before he is ready to ejaculate inside you. Men, poor souls, only get the one orgasm – when they shoot off; and afterwards George tends to sort of collapse his weight onto you. I have him trained to fall to one side when he does that. Just nudge him towards the side that suits you. He will be absolutely useless for a while, but once he recovers from doing me, he usually shifts to Georgina. Don't treat that as him neglecting you. He just has to show all his women that they are loved."

Next day, George suggested to his boss that a trip to the harbour at this time might be beneficial in getting hold of kelp samples. John responded by saying, "Right, George. It is your baby. Deal with it. I'll see you when you get back."

As a result, George Montford found himself at the harbour, looking for fishermen to talk to about seaweed. He soon found a crew who had completed their night's work and were tidying up. He asked to speak with them.

"Fellows, do you encounter kelp during your fishing activities?"

The man who seemed to be in charge responded, "Do we? Merde! We hate the stuff! It gets in the way of our nets, but the fish seem to gather near the kelp beds, so we just have to put up with it."

"Interesting", said George. "I was going to ask you to collect some for me. We want to test out the stuff as a possible material for making things."

"We can get you as much as you want, monsieur. The more we can get rid of, the happier I and my crew will be."

"Excellent. If you can collect a boatload, I will pay you something for your trouble when it is landed. If it works out, then I would be looking for a regular supply that I would pay for, per ton. All I would need is to know when to have a vehicle to meet you and collect the material."

"Sounds like you will have a deal, monsieur. If you pay us enough to cover our costs and a bit more, we can accommodate your needs."

"All right then. How about ten dollars for the first boatload? I can find what that amounts to in usable material. Then I will be in a position to know what a regular boatload is worth to me – assuming my boss wants to proceed with this. My name is George Montford."

"très heureux! Mssr Montford. Well, let's do that. Do you want the first boatload tomorrow? We can have it back here before noon. That leaves us the afternoon to do our fishing."

"Is there plenty of fish out there?" George wanted to know.

"There certainly is, monsieur Montford. This is far better than anywhere on Earth. The sea isn't overfished here, and we intend to keep it that way. There are some odd fish that get in our nets; fish that are not edible, but we are trying to get farmers interested in them as a fish manure for their fields."

"Good idea. We don't have a load of horses to produce manure, and we are not geared up here to produce mineral manures. Come to think of it, perhaps someone ought to get started on that. I should have a word with my boss about it. We could offer a choice of manures to the farmers, and both yourselves and us can gain a bit more business. Do you have a card for your fishing business?"

"Non, but I can give you my phone ID: I'll shoot it over to you now. I'm Tomas Brun."

"Thanks, Tomas. Yes, my phone has that now. See you tomorrow, probably."

"Yeah ... Mssr Montford? When we talked to farmers about providing manure to them, the next day a man came to see us. He looked threatening, and said we REALLY should not want to get into that business. Then he walked away. He was quite scary. I just thought you should know."

"Odd. Anyway, thanks for telling me. Bye."

By the time George was back at the office, he had roughed out his ideas on agricultural fertilizers. He had decided that if the kelp was a viable material for box-making, any unusable portion could go towards a seaweed fertiliser, probably in liquid form, for use in small garden plots. Mineral fertilisers would require a more industrial approach, and consequently greater investment input.

Going into John's office, George started by saying that there was potential for a business venture involving the supply of fertilisers to farmers. John interrupted him, staring at George. "George, what did you go the harbour FOR?"

George's head jerked up as he became aware of his faux pas. "Oh, sorry, John. I got distracted. Indeed, it was about the kelp."

"And??"

"We will have a boat load to collect tomorrow, as a sample. If it proves acceptable to us, we can have a regular supply from the fishermen. It is just a nuisance to them at the moment. We pay ten dollars for the sample boatload. Possible future deliveries to be discussed for price."

"Fine. NOW, what is this about fertiliser? How did we get onto that subject?"

George brightened up. "The fishermen were saying there were inedible fish amongst their catch, and they were thinking of offering at as a field manure."

"What of it, George? What has it got to do with us?"

"Well, my first thought was that farmers are going to have a requirement for manure for their fields, and as there is little or no animal manure available, this will mean mineral manures or the fish manure the fishermen were talking about."

"Again, George, to repeat: what has it got to do with us?"

"I did think that it might be a business worth looking into, but I also wondered: what if we have lots of unusable bits of kelp? I remembered something about island farmers using seaweed as a manure for their potatoes. The unusable kelp could perhaps be turned into a seaweed manure, and make our finances better than otherwise would be the case."

"NOW you are on my wavelength, George. I have to make this a viable business, and if there is a by-product we can convert into something saleable, then fine. Have you done anything about checking the market for fertilisers?"

"Give me a chance, John! I have only just got back from the harbour. I haven't had time to research the possibilities yet."

"So, your workday isn't over. You can make a start on it today, can't you?"

"Uh, yes, I suppose so. Can I mention something else? The fishermen said they had been threatened by a man who came to see them. Well, perhaps not overtly threatened, but there was an implied threat to them if they went ahead with their fish manure plans. The only way that can have happened is if one or more farmers mentioned to a supplier that the fishermen were asking. SOMEBODY knows too much, and if we start asking farmers about fertilisers, we might be warned off as well. Are we prepared to deal with that, if it happens?"

"Hmmm. You say there was no direct threat?"

"None, so theoretically no-one broke the law, but there is a suggestion, from a burly and overbearing man, that strong action will be taken against the fishermen if they go ahead. They are worried."

"But they don't know who is issuing the assumed threat?"

"Nope, but if we take this to its logical conclusion, it is probably someone who is running a fertiliser business and is scaring off competitors. We just need to find how many businesses are providing fertiliser to farmers."

John was nonchalant. "Just do an online search for fertilisers, restricted to Rehome. That should do the job."

George was not so sure. "And what if there is more than one business?"

"Why assume more complications? It could be the one guy that runs both businesses!"

"True. All right. I'll get started on that, unless you have something more important that wants doing?"

"Nothing urgent, George."

George investigated with his phone, indeed finding two firms in this business. One indicated their prices, the other did not. They had different contact details, but George noticed that their addresses were only a short distance apart.

Aware that there was no registration system for companies, whereby a company's ownership could be clarified, George phoned the Colony Administration and asked. "Sirs, are you able to tell me who owns a couple of companies in Metropolis?"

"Certainly, sir. If I may have your name and phone ID, for our records?" George happily gave that data, and was then asked which companies he was enquiring about. He named the firms, and waited. In about thirty seconds, he had his answer. Both companies were owned by a Thomas Ancoma. The one firm was an importer of fertilisers, the other was a distributor. George thanked the office staff, and rang off.

How to look into Mr Ancoma's activities? George knew who was the best person to deal with that; Mary Kempe's fellow wife, Diane, who was head of the security services on Rehome. Dare he impose on her, on the basis of assumptions? He didn't want to end up looking foolish, if the business was just that – a businessman. George decided to approach Mary Kempe.

When he got home that night, and was welcomed as before by his two wives and his young fiancée, he kept quiet to begin with. He noticed Marina was more upbeat, and so he asked her how she was feeling.

"Quite chipper, darling. My period doesn't appear to be very heavy, so I hope to be back in action in a couple of days. You managed to satisfy both Georgina and Judith last night, so you can do the same tonight, with my encouragement from the sidelines."

"And you, Judith?"

"Wonderful, George. I now know the missionary position, and Marina has explained the doggie position to me, so we can try that tonight. Please, George?" She begged. Georgina smirked at this, and winked at Marina. George grinned, and declared, "I shall look forward to that, Judith, but isn't it time we got our wedding date fixed?"

"Oh, Marina and Georgina are sorting that out. I am happy to leave it to them, for they know what needs to happen. My Mum is making a list of our friends and relatives who should be invited."

Marina interjected, "Oh, in connection with that, I forgot to say, George. Mary Kempe is visiting us tonight. Definitely something about the wedding, but we will find out properly when she comes."

"All right, but can we concentrate on our meal for now? I am feeling hungry, girls, plus I need to keep up my strength."

Mary Kempe arrived shortly after eight o'clock, and was welcomed in. After an offer of coffee or tea, which she refused, saying she had not long had something to drink, Mary got down to business.

"Folks, I was responsible for what happened, resulting in Judith being here with you, so I want to provide her wedding dress, if I may?"

 
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