On request by Spazerz.
Well as a reward here's more story material.
A Nereid, kraken and mermaid fighting over who gets ya.
Fetishes: kissing, gentle sex, romance, cum on tits
Tags: monster girl, monster girl encyclopedia, second-person, nereid, kraken, mermaid
NOTE: The story doesn't have much explicit sex, since I believe mermaids, if not kraken and nereids, are very romantic at first encounters. Also, I don't want my material to be too repetitive or filled with sex all the time. I probably won't describe the PIV sex much in this one.
*****
You pulled on the oars, making the boat row through the waves faster. You looked around at the sea and sky around and over you, giving a sigh of exhilaration.
The sea was your world, and sailing was your passion. Some people teased you about it being a 'wet' fetish, but you didn't care.
Your father was a sailor, and the best one in the world you knew. You would follow in his footsteps and become the best known sailor after him. You knew what you wanted to be, and you wanted to be able to handle the sea and any danger it had.
The sea could take lives much more easily and remorselessly than sharks, hammerhead or great white, and even a stingray or jellyfish. And you didn't want to let it happen to you. Your father had been tossed around by the waves, thrown ashore on deserted islands, shipwrecked more often than you had fingers and toes to count, and he always returned home. Thinner, scarred, sometimes with open wounds - but always alive, and tougher.
And that's whom you wanted to be.
You manned the oars and rowed towards the landmass in the distance. You couldn't make out if it was an atoll or an island, but you intended to find out. It could be another ship in the distance, though it didn't look metallic. You raised a hand over your eyes, shading them from the sun and sticking out your bare, barrel-like chest. A real sailor never needed a shirt on a ship, it wouldn't be of much use with all the storms and rain. Your chest and torso, well-defined abs, and the toughened skin and muscles from hauling cargo, sails, masts and other parts of a ship was good enough to protect you. Even pants weren't really needed, but you supposed that natives or most normal people would be a little worried about a naked man, or even one in tighty whities running around them. People were so judgemental and easily terrified, at least the morons who lived on land. You weren't about to take their asses just because you were underdressed.
On second thought, if you landed safely on the shore, there were a few other worries. Like tribal savages who thought you were a god to worship and forcibly keep around, or even kill and eat since you didn't look like them.
But all that could wait. You needed to land safely on the beach first. You rowed as hard as you could to the object in the distance, hoping you could at least sleep there and find some sustenance.
Your stomach growled. Well, in fact, you could do with some right now.
You tacked the boat and shifted its course to the right of the landmass. You set up a fishing rod and hook, winding the reel and making sure the line is taut and firm and the hook is in place. You threw it into the water, letting it trail behind the boat. You then sat down to wait.
While you were waiting, you contemplated the perks and perils of being a sailor. The sea all around you, waves lapping over your boat, and
You felt a sudden tug on the line. Standing up, you pull the rod backwards. A herring flew over your shoulder into the boat. That's one.
Your line snagged another fish and it went into the boat. You continued in this way, tossing your catch into the boat in a quickly growing pile. You should have enough for a few days now. Even if you couldn't find anything on the island, the fish would last you for a while until you decided you'd rested there long enough.
Your line was suddenly tugged really hard, almost throwing you into the water. You almost fell overboard, regained your balance close to the edge of the boat, and then gripped the rod tightly. You just hit a jackpot. This could be a catfish or something else which was big enough to fry and eat for days.
You pulled and tugged on the line for a while, struggling to reel in the fish. You leaned backwards, adjusted your feet and legs better so as not to lose your balance, and then pulled the rod back harder with your left hand, the right on the reel's handle. You spun the handle inwards, trying to reel in the fish as best you could. Even if you fell overboard, you were an excellent swimmer and able to withstand all but the strongest waves, so it wouldn't be a problem. But there was no point taking chances when you could probably catch this one without getting soaked.
You stepped backwards, grabbing the rod with both hands and yanking it as hard as you could in quick jerks, hoping to make the fish lose control and fly out of the water. It didn't work. The fish was really big, or it could be called a shark. You might or might not lose something just for this damn Pisces, even your life if it happened to be a dangerous one. Or was it a moray eel? Perhaps electric? Shit.
After a few minutes of tugging and jerking the line, you decided you'd had enough. You gritted your teeth, slammed both boots into the wooden floor of the boat, and stretched the rod out towards the sea, preparing for your ultimate pull. You leaned backwards and took in a deep breath, tensing your muscles and preparing to pull this goddamned pelagic being out of its comfort zone. This one could flop and jump around the boat for hours for all you cared, and then die in the agonising dryness of gaseous oxygen instead of pulling it from the sea.
You turned your feet sideways and lowered your head. With a yell, you used your entire body and shoulders to give the line a really hard pull from your end towards the boat. The resulting 'Hyyyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!' echoed over the water. Guess any submarine within five hundred miles must have heard you. Well, it would be useful to have one looking out for you if you did fall in.
The line flies through the water, the bob you tied at the end floating closer. Yes! You watched it approach the boat, ecstatic. No effing fish would ever oppose your might!
The bob speeds towards the boat, hitting it with a soft thunk. The other end of the line finally flies out of the water, a fish tail appearing at the end. It flew to the boat, sending up a powerful spray of sea foam through the air. You dropped the line into the boat and stood facing the spray, your arms outstretched like in that Titanic scene. Sea foam and spray was the best to bathe in if you wanted some refreshment.
The fish you'd snagged went over your head, a bit like some fishy jokes your colleagues made about you and your passion for the sea, and hit the boat with a thud. This thud shook up everything in the boat, though. This was probably a damn hammerhead, not a fish! You felt the boat shake like it was in an earthquake. A couple of the ropes and sails left to dry on the sides fell into the water, and some coconut shells you used as cups flew into the air and hit the water with a splash! Some of the fish you'd caught went up into the air like flying fish, and went spinning over the sides of the boat, hitting the water. You'd almost lost your balance when the first impact of that monster hit the boat, but you managed to stagger and stumble over to your catch, swiping the air with your hands to get the fish still in the air and trying to regain what you were losing.
Pretty much a pointless attempt. The fish neatly avoided your hands as if they were under a spell and splashed into the sea. Some of them were still alive. They regained consciousness the moment they breached the water's surface and swam away, their silvery fins flashing in the sun as if to mock you for getting them at first. The others had already suffocated outside water, and gave blank stares as they slowly began sinking to the bottom of the sea. Great. You just gave some bigger fish and the sharks a free meal. Thank you very much, Big Brother Fish.
You moved over to the stockpile of fish and looked around, searching for the culprit who'd just lost half your catch and made you know what it's like to be dancing on a boat, though very unplanned. You frowned in puzzlement over not seeing anything apart from glistening fish tails and fins. Odd. You would've noticed if such a large fish had gone over the edge, and if it had, it would've capsized your little boat anyway. A fish the size of you could easily do that and you'd have nothing left.
You peer at the mass of thrashing gills and fins, struggling to notice the little miscreant. Maybe you'd be generous and fry it first so it wouldn't have to see the rest of its brothers and sisters be cooked, and then fearfully await its turn. That would show it.
'Um ... hello?' says a soft, timid feminine voice.
You blink. That sounded like it came from the stack itself. Odd. Fish couldn't talk. Right? They weren't porpoises. Or parrots. Parrot fish had beaks, but they couldn't talk, just let out bubbles.
So where was the reprobate?
'I-I-I'm right here,' says the voice. The hoard of fish shudders, and a silvery tail emerges from it. It shakes around for a while as if to remove any seaweed, which there were none of, and then starts sliding out of the pile.
Just as half of this strange fish exits the pile, you see a smooth, human midriff. Definitely feminine. The curves and arches of her hips are juicy. Her behind is well-formed, as if from Michaelangelo's hands. It moves out of the pile further, and you see two round protuberances over a delicate chest. Then her neck emerges, the head wiggling around a little and shaking some fish off it.
The mermaid hops over to you awkwardly, clearly not used to being on land, even if temporary. Sailors kept discussing seeing strange fish-women with large, round, bare breasts who kept enticing them to jump, but what was this? This one was a lot sexier than what the 'pictures' (obviously doctored with Photoshop, GIMP, or a lab) and tales depicted.
The mermaid raised her head to you, shaking the hair out of her face and gazing into your eyes. Your heart stopped. This one was a porcelain beauty, carved out of marble. Slender cheekbones, a pointed chin, pointed ears which weren't even scaly, and large, almond-shaped eyes. Her forehead was high, and covered in a fringe which she kept pushing out of her eyes. She was actually quite cute in the way she looked shyly at you while struggling to hop and skip over the boat's surface.
Her hair was a vision of beauty. Long, flowing and blue, and all without hair dye. Her breasts were large as well, more than any human you knew, even Ted's mum. Or his aunt, who was a cup bigger. Her's could be an F-cup. Her waist was toned and slim. It was so perfectly flat you could bounce a quarter off it, and her belly button was small and cute. Her hips were extremely curvy and wide, giving you enough room to grab hold onto as you imagined riding her, yet just the right size for a supermodel who wasn't a BBW.
