“Oh yes, you’ll find it’s quite salty – I suspect you don’t find that surprising.” I jumped back, looked back into the thick haze that engulfed the boat – yes, I did have company. Seated in the boat, facing me, was a small girl – no, she was a woman – with silvery white hair and golden eyes. She smiled. “I’m sorry if I startled you.” I was suddenly terrified – had I been drugged and kidnapped? Michael was always teasing me about the white slave trade – maybe – The little silver-haired woman laughed. “Oh sweetheart, it’s nothing like that. Although I’ve thought myself that being a captive – you know – a sex slave – wouldn’t be all bad.” There was something about the purr of her laugh, the glint of her golden eyes, the curve of her smile – that seemed somehow familiar. “Speaking of, by the way, you have a beautiful body.” I looked down and realized, to my shame, that I was naked. I gasped, tried to cover myself. I’m not naturally modest, but on a strange boat, in a strange ocean, with a strange woman – The woman laughed again. “Silly girl. You need not do that. Not here, not now.” She smiled, her teeth gleaming, her eyes the same golden color as the sky. “M and M?” She tossed one in her mouth and stretched out a closed fist. I accepted, my hand open, and she spilled small candies into my palm. They danced and shimmered there. I glanced down at the dancing chocolate, back up to my strange partner. “Oh they’re just fine to eat – just fine. Just wait” she cackled, “Til you eat the green ones. They’re the ones that make you horny!” I looked, once more, down at my palm. They were all green. She laughed again. “Go ahead – eat them!” I tossed them into my mouth, one by one – the chocolate was ambrosiac, the shimmering green covering sang against my teeth. I felt a wonderful warmth – one I’d not felt in years – crawl down the base of my spine, down towards my naked cunt and deep into my belly. I drew a deep breath. “Yes, they are quite nice, aren’t they? Try swimming now – do it – you’ll be – surprised.” I looked over the boat, doubtfully. There was no land, and we seemed so far out – but the candies had created an incredible itch, somewhere deep in the folds of my skin, and suddenly, somehow, the water seemed the only way to satisfy it. Clumsily, I started to crawl towards the side of the boat. “Not that way, dearie,” my companion said, tossing more M and M’s onto a golden tongue, “Dive into it – you gotta want it – otherwise, it just won’t work.” I stood up, but the boat remained quite steady. I dove headfirst into the strange waves, immersed suddenly in warm, watery silk. I surfaced, though I didn’t feel air-hungry. My companion was now lying back in the boat, her feet hoisted on the other seat, singing and popping the chocolate candy. She looked my way with just a faint hint of surprise. “You didn’t stay down very long. Go ahead – go down again – open your eyes – stay as long as you want – and then tell me what you see.”
I dove once more into the odd depths. I let myself go – deeper, deeper. There was no need for air here, it seemed. I opened my eyes, and the silk of the water pressed on them, a strange sensation at first. In front of me was a sort of tunnel, twisting, serpentine, in the watery depths. I entered it, entirely unafraid. I half swam, half walked through its twisting corridor. There were round rooms off the tunnel, and each one was occupied – there were people, and sometimes mermaids, and they were doing – things. Sexual things. In the first room, a youngish man was licking the salty breasts of an oldish mermaid. She was laughing, delighted, and they both looked up at me and waved. I waved back and continued – the next room held a cat and kittens – sea kittens? -- and a woman who seemed to be talking to a young child, gesticulating between the nursing kittens and the woman’s own bare breasts. They were too absorbed to notice me. In the next room, a man and a woman – no mermaids, no sea-kittens – were fucking, he slamming into her with sheer beastly delight. She was screaming happily and, as I passed, he came, yelling into the thick of the water. She jumped up, pinched his cock, and then poured them both some bubbling liquid, kept in a jug next to the bed they were on. I had stopped here, and both of them, laughing, waved quite happily, then lay back on the bed, clearly sated, clearly content.
It continued. Watching the scene in one round room, I gasped as a man whipped a dark-haired woman as she lay chained in barnacle-encrusted stocks. This was different, I thought – this was wrong – until he released the stock, helped her up, and they both turned their heads up, laughing. I could see her bare ass, streaked with red and aching. She rubbed it briefly, then playfully slapped his shoulder. He was a merman, capable of sudden, swimming motions. He grabbed her then, swimming capably around her furtive and useless attempts to escape. He threw her down on the floor of the round room, and fucked her with his formidable merman member. I was enchanted by this scene, and tore myself away to continue. In the next room, a number of men – mer-men and human-like men – were pleasuring a young, dark-haired woman who was writhing in ecstasy and delight. Two were at each breast, one was at her clit, one was at her belly, yet another tickled her ears, and another ran leisurely fingers up and down her thighs, occasionally teasing her with a finger-bang, then laughing and starting again. In the next alcove, the situation was reversed – a young, fair-haired man, blindfolded, lay on a small bed while mermaids and women tormented him. He laughed as they stroked his hair, whispered in his ears, grabbed his throbbing cock and poked anxious fingers into his asshole. He writhed, wanting it all, not quite getting enough. In several alcoves, there were animals fucking – cats, dogs, pigs – and in one, a woman astride an incredible seahorse, orgasming with the animal’s fabulous undulating movements.
The corridor narrowed. There was one alcove left, in front of me. The itch had only increased – the water had not helped, and the scenes had only intensified the distant wanting. Inside this last alcove, the dead end, the final room in the tunnel, a woman lay on her back, pleasuring herself. She was rubbing her fingers on her clit, banging them in and out, lightly teasing her thighs with her own light, fingernails. She was gasping, wanting it, holding out. She brought her fingers to her lips, her head rose to meet the taste. I gasped, pleased, surprised, horrified – she was me. She opened her arms, and I found I could physically enter this last sex-space. She held me in her embrace, and I could feel myself dissolving into her/my skin. I was pumping against her, against myself, and I thought – perhaps, oh please – the mighty candy itch was going to – finally – satisfy – I threw my head back, into the rush of the silken water. I was pumping, against the woman, against myself, against the strange water, coming, my liquid joining this fabulous, sensuous warmth. I could hear, somewhere, my strange companion from the boat – I could recognize her voice. “It’s all there for you, Kristen – you just have to dive in. You can have it all – don’t limit -- Don’t forget – remember yourself – remember –“ Suddenly, the woman’s voice turned strange – no longer a woman’s voice, it was the insistent talk of Roxy D, meowing and rumbling against the rocking of my legs on the futon.
I opened my eyes. Roxy D. was protesting my movements – rudely, they had disturbed her deep, catly slumber. She was on my chest, her golden eyes staring intently into mine. My fingers were on my clit, and I was breathing deeply. I could still feel my cunt contracting. It had been months – no years – since I had orgasmed this way, in my sleep, unbidden. I reached out to pet Roxy D., trying to apologize. I rubbed her face and neck, and she closed her golden eyes and purred. Golden eyes – a purring voice – silver hair – I stared suspiciously at the fat feline, but she wasn’t talking. Instead, she jumped off my chest, wrapped herself around an endtable, and headed off to her bowl of food. As she moved – weren’t cats supposed to be graceful? -- she knocked off a glass dish, gotten from some long forgotten flea market. It fell to the floor, spilling its cargo – a bowlful of green M and M’s. I watched, bemused. I never bought candy. Still, I picked them up, carefully, trying to make sure each was clean before I returned them to their unexpected berth. One never knew when the urge --
When I rose and headed for the shower, I was surprised to feel a string of wetness, exploring my inner thighs. It had been months – years – since – well, since this kind of feeling. As I showered, the phone rang. It would be Michael, I knew. I smiled, touched my clit, lifted my face to the welcoming spray, and ignored the persistent, ignorant phone.