Read Kalifornia for Free Online Page B

another familiar face,
any excuse to get away from the Reverend Governor. This was like one of his
childhood birthday parties: hundreds of strangers smiling and calling him by
name.
    He was about to baldly excuse himself when someone came up behind
Halfjest and slipped her arm around his crystal-clad waist.
    “Ah, there you are, my darling,” said Halfjest, turning to kiss
the young woman. “I’m sure you remember Santiago Figueroa.”
    For a moment, as their eyes met, Sandy thought she was the one
wearing the sex pherofume. But she didn’t need to wear anything to arouse him;
in fact, when she wore nothing it was best of all. He grew warmer, pulse
quickening. The sight of her, and the memories that came along, made him blush.
    She had her father’s red-gold hair, but hers was long and thick,
flowing down in waves to break on the backs of her thighs. Bare thighs. Her
short skirt and blouse were striped gold and black. Like her father, she was
decked from head to toe in crystals and diamonds, a delicate tiara woven
through her hair, jeweled ankle bracelets tinkling, and little stones of ten
colors gleaming on her toenails.
    “Dyad,” he murmured, his throat dry.
    “Hi, Sandy. Where you been?”
    “Up . . . up in Humbo,” he said. “On my ranch.”
    Dyad took Sandy’s hands in hers. She lifted them to her mouth and
kissed each palm. It was like plugging his arms into a wall socket.
    “Three years,” she whispered. “Seems like forever.”
    “I was just telling Sandy about the contest, darling.”
    “Yeah, Dad.” She moved closer to Sandy, putting one arm around his
waist; her fingers ran down to grip his ass. “Come up with anything?”
    “No, but something’s coming up.”
    She brought one of his hands to her mouth again and began to suck
on the back of his thumb, nipping at the skin of the first joint. Sandy’s legs turned to water, but he was torn with indecision. The last (and first) time
he’d gotten involved with Dyad—the night he’d lost his virginity—had started as
the best experience of his life and ended up the most humiliating. Like her
father, Dyad was live. When she had fucked Sandy, so had legions of horny teens
(he tried not to think about his large audience of elderly adorers) who’d been
waiting for the moment. our night with sandy! For
months afterward, their fanzines had been full of lush, overblown, almost
worshipful descriptions of the act. super sex with the sandman! It was
recorded and duplicated and traded among the teenie fans while Sandy went crazy with embarrassment. TASTE HIM YOURSELF — TONIGHT
AND EVERY NIGHT! He had
avoided Dyad ever since. And although he was no longer wired, she most
certainly was. Some of his old fans, no longer quite so teeny, might still be
waiting for a second chance to get it on with him vicariously. That thought was
enough to shrivel his orchids quicker than a plunge into a penguin’s swimming
hole.
    “What do you think, Sandy?” Thaxter asked. “I haven’t heard
anything very imaginative yet, but I’m sure we can outdo those old Spaniards.
Goldia, Orangette, New Atlantis.”
    “Libidopolis,” Dyad mumbled around his thumb.
    He had not taken his eyes from hers for nearly a minute.
    “See you later, Dad,” Dyad said, breaking off her ministrations.
“Sandy and I have some catching up to do.”
    “I need his opinion, Dyad. Maybe he’d like to be one of the
contest judges.”
    “You can talk later.” With that, she pushed Sandy into the crowd.
    “I thought we’d never get away,” Sandy said with a laugh when they
were free. “But look, Dyad, I don’t know if this is such a tan idea.”
    “Oh, it’s coppertone, baby. I’m not S/R anymore. Haven’t been live
for months. I’m RO like you. We’ll have some real privacy this time.”
    “Tortious,” he said. And then: “Oh, no.”
    Cornelius had appeared at Dyad’s shoulder.
    “Your father is ready to see you, Sandy.”
    Sandy swore under his breath, cursing the time