Clarke Hendrix picked the least hospitable spot to spend his summer vacation. Vacation was putting a kind veneer on the tasks at hand however. This was work for his research project and if he didn't come home with results, his funding was going to dry up. When he'd been safe, dry and warm in his office on the Fresno State campus, the trip to explore Scotland to search for several reported sunken Spanish and Dutch trading ships sounded great.
He'd spent his life outside his day job of teaching, diving in Italy, Greece and Egypt looking for artifacts and through wreckage and managed to establish himself as a scholar of note who wasn't just a stuffy book-bound educator like many of his peers. Those trips had allowed him to secure the funding for his real love. Exploring Scotland and discovering lost information about the Celtic people and his heritage. Finding a sunken Galleon packed with gold was the desire of his research partner, but it wouldn't suck to fall into stacks of coin.
Sailing between the northern most points of Scotland off the Shetland Islands and northward, scouring the ocean for possible sites and making numerous dives over the past month was wearing him out. He was no longer a young man and he felt every heartbeat he spent in the icy water. He imagined it sucking the life from him. Feeling his own mortality really pissed him off. He was in good shape for being over forty. He still ran every morning, and spent his free time like this, looking for artifacts in remote locations. Today, standing on the deck of the ship, he felt closer to fifty than forty. His bones and joints protested the cold of the wind the recent dive left him frozen in a deep, previously untouched places in his bone marrow. As he was thinking of ways to convince his partner to call it a day early so he could get some whisky in him, one of the research team came jogging down the deck to him, cheeks pink and wind-blown. Damn the kid was half his age and moved as though the ship wasn't rocking and the wind wasn't trying to claw his face off.
Fuck getting old. The kid, Fredrick, shouted over the wind, "You have to come see this."
He went with Freddie, moving slower and feeling every step in his damn joints as he tried not to get tossed into the churning sea. He swore under his breath. Next year, he was going to Greece. Watching oil slick, bare breasted beauties soaking in the sun between his dives beat the hell out of freezing his nuts off.
Several people were at the side of the railing, looking into the grey water below them. He pushed through the crowd, grasping the wood in his gloved fingers to peer down. At first he only noticed the crests of foaming water around the hull but then the water shifted and he saw the white flicker through the waves. "Is that a shark? Dolphin?" He knew it wasn't as his words were carried away on the wind. That was a person in the water. "Shit, we need to get down there. Why are you all standing around?" Fredrick looked stricken, "We asked some of the crew to help but they said they couldn't. Said that was a Kelpie Professor."
Clarke frowned, "What? Like hell it is!" He looked away from his intern and squinted into the water, seeing the ivory flesh more clearly now as the body shifted and slipped over a wave. He could make out arms and legs now, the hair a dark dangle fanned around the unseen face. Womanly he thought, though it could be his imagination. "Fuck this. I'm going to help her."
True enough, a couple of the crew tried to stop him, "She'll pull you in. She'll steal away your breath and drag you into the depths. Best not meddle with the affairs of the sea folk." Their voices so heavily accented it was hard to understand them, but they all continued to warn him against his folly. Clarke might have been born in Scotland, but he wasn't one of them, he didn't know the risks, this was for his own good.
His mind pushed away the supernatural bullshit with a snort and he shouldered by the men trying to stop him from getting into the life boat. He couldn't live with himself if he had that image of the cold, white flesh floating in the ocean knowing he did absolutely nothing. Even if he couldn't save her, no one deserved to be left at sea. A bunch of crazy seamen weren't going to stop him.
The little boat struggled out towards the body floating on the surface of the water. He was sweating from the effort to row the damn thing out to her. There was no mistaking the womanly curves along the ivory flesh against the dark water now. He dreaded reaching to touch her, fearful of the texture and the cold feel of her flesh but he'd struggled out this far to bring her body back, he couldn't back out now. He secured his oars and gave himself a metal kick to get moving and leaned over the edge in time with the roiling waves and reached for one of those long, graceful limbs.
Her skin was warm and velvety like the flesh of a ripe peach when he grasped ahold of her. In fact, his senses were awash with the sweet fragrance of summer warmed peaches and a summer warmth bloomed through his hand and up his arm from where he'd made contact with her pale flesh. Overhead, the clouds broke and the wind died as a shaft of golden sunshine streamed down from above and settled over him. And her.
Her skin gleamed and twinkled like the dew of water over her flesh were diamonds. As one of the lazy waves pushed against her, she rolled onto her side and her face draw up from the sapphire waters. She was beautiful. Clarke felt his heart squeeze in his chest and his loins ached with a thrill of lust he'd never felt before. Gooseflesh prickle against her flesh as she arched towards his touch, a soft, musical sigh escaped her brilliant red lips. "Clarke." Ruby red hair clung to her high cheekbones in glossy coils, glinting in the glare of summer sunlight. When she arched up from the water, her tight nipples broke from the waves, taunt, red buds against the ivory of her flawless skin.
Azure fingers of sky seemed to peel back the clouds, pushing away the grey of the landscape, more warmth flooded through him and he wanted to peel off his jacket and gloves and the rest of his clothing so he could press his flesh to hers until he didn't know where she stopped and he began. He wanted to be part of her until he heard her screaming his name in pleasure. He wanted to be balls deep in her until his cum filled her tight little womb. His cock throbbed in the too tight confines of his pants.
He forgot everything but her. The sound of his name spoken, breaking past the full, sweet lips. "Clarke." A plea and a moan whispered over the sigh of waves, somehow both echoing and accenting the sound of the sea. She reached her other hand towards him, legs lazily scissoring the waters now as she tried to climb into his boat. The movement made the ship jostle and that movement broke the spell and he remembered that only a breath ago, he'd been battling the bitter cold, wind and waves to reach the body. He jerked his hand away and the real world came crashing down on him.
Wind raged in his ears and the little boat wobbled. His hands were freezing. He'd soaked them in the cold water, nearly falling out of the boat. He'd loosened the jacket and it was half off him already as the dream and fantasy encouraged him—and his cock. Oh his cock ached, he could feel the lust beating at him as it hadn't in years. Hhe felt like he was going to cum in his pants. And the white form of the woman was no longer there. She was just there. He could still smell the peaches and sunshine through the brine and ice on the stormy air. He leaned over the side of his boat to look and a savage wave struck this boat from behind. He had a moment to realize his mistake and try to counter balance and then the water surged over him and knocked him into the turbulent grey sea.
"There you are lover." The musical voice filled his head through the roar of cold and waves and then the sting of ice needles was gone and warmth flooded through him anew as velvety warm arms slid around him. He was no longer in the sea. He was no longer on the boat. He was on a long, golden beach strewn with wild flowers. The lovely redhaired woman held him close, his head in her naked lap. The sweetness of her peach fragrance was intoxicating. "I have you now. Never you worry." She crooned and bowed forward to brush her full lips against his.
The kiss burned away the last hint of his bafflement and any memory of a life before this moment. Gone was the expedition and gone was the sea and cold. Gone was the reality that he might be drowning. Her soft, creamy tongue arched forward to split his lips and fill his mouth with honey-sweet nectar. The only thing that mattered now was the taste of her. She moaned against him, a little mewl of delight as though the feel and taste of him thrilled her beyond reason. Her warm little fingers coiled through his damp hair in her eagerness.
The kiss ended too quickly, her breath warm on his cheek, "I want you so badly." Brilliant emerald eyes shone down at him, gleaming with mirth and desire, gleaming in the summer sunlight as she spread her thighs wider under his cheek, "You saved me. You should be rewarded."
The fragrance of her pussy was even richer and more lovely than the taste of her lips and mouth and tongue. He turned his head and kissed along her graceful leg, feeling the muscles under the skin tighten as she spread the limbs open wider and wider. She was natural between her thighs. A thatch of curly scarlet accenting the mound of her pussy.
He groaned as he stroked his fingers through the fragrant curls, dewy from her lust and the ocean and peach juices. It had been years since he'd been with a woman who'd let herself go natural. He squeezed his hands over her ass, feeling his cock lurch in desperation to be deep in her; sheathed in the heat of her perfect cunt. He wasn't some youngster though, he could hold back and enjoy this. He would enjoy every inch of her perfect fucking body. He let his teeth graze her inner thigh, rewarded by a squeal of delight and an arching of her muscular, swimmer's body under him.
