Best Women's Erotica(53)

I step into the water, feeling the heat from my body emanate out into the night air, letting the water lap over my booted feet. Every wave sends tiny shudders up my legs and into my cunt. I feel like a kettle about to boil over. I walk down the beach, sloshing my feet in the shallow waves. I’m not looking for anything or anyone, I tell myself; there would be no one for me to see anyway. Images flicker behind my eyes of seal-smooth girl-flesh, of slippery salt-slick curves. Without thinking, I realize I’m searching for them. Ridiculous, I know; I probably dreamed them in the first place. Or maybe I’m dreaming now. But there! A movement on the sand. A twisting, fluid motion like bodies moving through water. I continue walking but keep my steps slow so that the waves do not splash too loudly.

It’s the seal-women. Everything is the same as last night, except it’s all about to change because now they see me. They beckon to me, their fingers impossibly long and slim, the moon reflecting off their skin.

I step closer. I feel like I’m not in control of my body; the heat from my clitoris seems to have boiled right up to the base of my throat. I’m dizzy and breathless and don’t even know what the hell I’m doing here. But the girls are so close to me that I can see the dark lines of their eyelashes. They pull me to my knees on the sand and mirror my stance, stretching their bodies out so that their breasts rise high on their chests. I’m sure I was wearing clothes, sure I remember pulling on Rory’s jacket and boots, but now all I feel is the warm grit of sand under my knees and the cool night air pulling at my nipples.

A cloud has passed over the moon and it’s hard to see, but it looks like their skin is the soft gray color of the sky before rain.

Impossible, I know, but then it’s impossible for me to be laid out on the sand with two strangers who are pressing their palms along my body, sliding their fingers across my nipples, slipping dual tongues toward the heat between my legs. My back arches with pleasure, and I dig my heels into the sand. I can feel every molecule of my body overflowing with joy, the boundaries of my body breaking like a dam.

This is my body, but I feel their bodies, too: I feel the touch of their hands at the same time as I know how they feel touching me. They are a part of me, and I am a part of them, and their loving me is me loving myself. Their tongues press up inside me together, and I shout the strength of my orgasm out across the beach.

Every moment of pressure and worry seeps out of my mind and scatters away among the sand. The waves tiptoe in and sweep it all away. I lie back on the sand and watch the women. They are walking away, hands held at hip-level, hair tangling in the breeze. I notice two piles of gray fabric on the nearby rocks, and the women pick up the fabric and slip it onto their bodies like they’re diving into a pool. I must be confused because the fabric fits them like a second skin, but suddenly they’re changing, their bodies filling out, transforming into rounded shapes with short arms and soft middles, and as the sea closes over them all I see is the retreating tails of two seals.

In our bedroom, Rory is sprawled across the bed like a starfish. His face is softened by sleep, and his mouth is slightly open so I can see the white edges of his bottom teeth. I slip under the covers and press my body full-length against his. He’s not fully awake but already I feel him responding, his cock hardening against me. My body feels alive, every inch of my skin responding to his touch.

He starts to shift under me, spreading his hands over my hips and nuzzling into my neck. I scatter kisses along his hairline; he smells of warm skin and cut grass and shampoo.

“Hey, you okay?” he mumbles, finally coming awake.

“Yes,” I say. “Yes. Everything is okay.”

“What do you need?”

“Just this,” I say. “Just you.”

I slide down his body, swirling my tongue over his nipples and pressing my breasts against him. His gasp makes me smile. If my advances surprise him, he seems to be dealing with it very well. He’s tangling his fingers in my hair and tugging gently on my earlobes, and I know what that means. I keep moving down his body until my mouth is right over his cock. In the darkness of the room I can see that the tip is gleaming, and it feels solid as a tree root in my hand. Slowly, slowly, I slide him into the O of my mouth. He makes a sound low in his throat and presses his body back against the bed. The hardness of him in my mouth is making my cunt throb harder, and all I can think about is the feeling when he comes inside me.

I spin my body around so that I’m positioned over his face, and then I lower myself. He presses his mouth against my cunt, his tongue flickering over my clit, and I can’t help but let out a deep moan. I pull back a little: I feel so close to the edge that I’ll orgasm within minutes, and I want us to come together.