The Passion of the Storm

Ayden held out his arms as he stood near the railing of his little boat, rain washing upon him, drenching him as surely as the spray of the salty ocean as it leapt over the sides and onto the deck. His shoulder length hair, normally the color of spun gold, was plastered to the tan skin of his face, darkened and made heavy by the water; it had long since pulled free of the band he had used to keep it from his face. He inhaled deeply and his eyes, green and bright as jewels, snapped open to stare out at his formidable opponent, the ocean.

He never should have taken the boat. He had been at sea for four hours now, tossing about helplessly for three. The engine had died and he had no idea how to fix it; it was his father's, his father who was out of the country on business, who wouldn't notice the missing boat for another week. It was Ayden's second time on a sea vessel, but it may as well have been his first; he had no idea what he was doing, or how any of the mechanisms worked. He had been thrilled to get it started, desperate to get away from the land and his life for what he thought would only be a few hours, to clear his head with the soothing rocking of the ocean. The water had been a haven to him since he was a child; nothing calmed him quite like it.

He should have gone to a movie. That was a safe escape, a temporary distraction that would have done fine, and certainly had no risk of death by drowning. Even with his probable death looming close at hand, Ayden just couldn't work up a healthy dose of fear. He was too empty from earlier that day. Thinking about it again made him curl his hands into tight fisted balls and let out a curse at the furious sky as lightning peeled and thunder rocked the very air, as if in reply.

He had stopped by the apartment he shared with his girlfriend of three years, Jessica, unexpectedly earlier that day. He had been saving up for the past few months so they could move out to southern California and she could start her acting career. He had quit today, and was going to surprise her with the fact that he finally had enough on what would have been his lunch break.

She had been feeling ill, so she had stayed home, resting in bed. He had thought bringing such news might raise her spirits and help heal her body. Not that it had needed healing; oh, no, she had been just fine. She had been feeling well enough to be making love with who he had thought was his best friend, Jon. They hadn't heard him come into the bedroom; the door had been wide open. She obviously hadn't been expecting him.

He had been stunned at first, only able to gawk silently as he watched her bouncing eagerly in Jon's lap, her large breasts jumping back and forth in an almost painful beat. Her sturdy thighs were working so hard as her lithe body strained to ride him, her back arching as she reached ever closer to her climax. Unable to restrain himself further, Jon had forced Jessica backwards onto the bed, holding her hips still as he slammed into her tight sheath over and over again.

Jon's mouth captured the tip of one of her breasts, suckling as Ayden had so many times. Jessica's hand disappeared between their two bodies as they mingled, obviously rubbing herself to help bring about her orgasm. It came hard, her spine bowing upwards as a scream tore out of her lips. Jon continued shoving himself into her until he came, body trembling with the expulsion, a hoarse cry gasping forth from his panting, gaping mouth.

And then Ayden had thrown his cell phone, missing Jon by inches only to crash into the bureau mirror, shattering its center and the phone alike. The two had immediately untangled themselves, Jessica white with shock, Jon's brown eyes too wide for his narrow face. Ayden had let out a scream of rage, too distraught to be bothered to form words. He had left them both, neither able to respond from the shock and horror of the moment. As he left he could hear Jessica beginning to cry and Jon trying to comfort her.

He had driven aimlessly for two hours before deciding to break into his father's boat and calm himself by a ride on the ocean. The tranquil waters called to him, and he sought them once again, feeling lost and forsaken. Well, now he really was lost and forsaken. Jessica wouldn't wonder at his not returning home after that, and would be too ashamed to try to call his work to find him anyway. Not that they'd care now anyway; he'd quit without two weeks notice; and when his father returned he'd probably be more worried about the missing boat than the missing son.

Ayden let out a bitter laugh as he gripped the railing, doing his best to keep his balance as a swell in the rough waves tilted the little boat. God, he had never felt so alone. His eyes filled with tears, then spilled, mingling with the salt from the ocean on his cheeks. He turned his face to the stormy heavens above, unable to get the sight of Jessica writhing beneath Jon out of his tormented mind. The thought of her tight, tan body moving so fluidly, so passionately beneath even another man's aching erection brought his own organ to life, tightening his pants despite the cold. His rage helped to fuel his arousal.

He tore the buttons from his jeans in his hurry to free himself. The rain fell, drop by heavy drop, onto his growing erection, and he had to lean back against the outside wall of the cabin to remain standing. He wrapped a hand around the base of his aching member and squeezed gently. He could see Jessica's smooth, firm flesh shaking with every hard thrust from Jon; her skinny legs wrapping around the other man's waist, drawing him down, closer. Ayden could remember the way her mouth felt as it wrapped around him, sucking hard.

He growled low and deep as he squeezed himself again, then began to slide his hand up and down his rain-wet penis, pumping himself eagerly. His hips began rocking with the fast rhythm, unable to remain still as he squeezed, pulled on himself hard and rough. He could hear Jessica moaning at Jon; her breasts so round and plump swaying, bouncing violently up and down, up and down. Ayden cried out in pleasure and pain as he spilled his seed into the empty air, one hand frantically stroking as the other squeezed. He could almost hear her calling out to him, 'Ayden...Ayden...'

But, no! His head snapped up, jewel eyes opening wide as he searched around. He really had heard someone calling out to him! There it was again! A voice, soft but sure, traveling to him on the howling winds; it wasn't Jessica's. Hers was a little more vacant, a little coarser. This voice was soft and sweeter than the notes of a flute tickling the very air itself.

"Who's there?" He cried out, hastily pulling his pants up to cover himself. His name answered him, coming from his left. He turned sharply and took too hasty a step towards that beautiful voice; his foot slipped on the wet planks and he fell, head first onto the deck. The world went black, and the last thing he felt was his entire body sliding down, down. Then there was nothing.

*

The first thing Ayden realized as he came to was that he was utterly naked. He tried to open his eyes, but the dull pain throbbing in his head made it nearly impossible. He gave up trying and decided to focus on what he was feeling. He was damp, not soaking as he was earlier, but not dry either. The biting cold had receded and he found himself to be moderately comfortable. He was laying on something soft and slightly squishy, like moss or seaweed. The last is what shocked him the most: he was completely stable; there was no rocking of the ocean, yet he could hear the waves crashing, echoing around him.

Echoing? With a groan he forced his eyes slowly open. His vision was blurry but cleared after a moment. He found himself staring up at the inner ceiling of a craggy cave. He could hear the rain pattering outside of it, and the rush of the ocean close by. He slowly turned his head, finding he could with little pain or discomfort. Yes, the ocean intruded into the cave he lay in, the spray as it crashed on the rocks nearly reaching him. But not quite; it was as if he had been placed just far enough to not be touched by the licking tongues of the sea.

Ayden tried hesitantly to sit up. He did so slowly, to not get dizzy. He discovered with gratitude he could; everything seemed to be in perfect working order; odd considering he remembered hitting his head. He reached up to examine his scalp, looking for bumps or sore spots tenderly. None. He was mildly baffled and extremely grateful. Now that the worry of injury to his head was gone, he realized with a shudder how sharply he felt the cold. His clothes were soaking wet and the air had a chill to it from the storm. He stripped off most of his clothes and laid them aside, hoping they would dry. Wearing only his boxers now, he rubbed his arms and headed towards the mouth of the cave; he had to find help or he was going to freeze to death.

He carefully exited the cave, sure not to slip on the slick rocks and plummet to the ocean beside him. Ayden stepped onto the beach, turning his face up towards the sky as the rain sluiced down on his naked skin, feeling like tiny pinpricks of cold. At least the storm had lightened. He gazed out at the ocean, wondering where his father's boat could possibly be. The air had cleared; the layer of fog having lifted as the worst of the storm passed.

He jolted, then rubbed his eyes to clear them. Surely he was mistaken? No! He wasn't on the mainland. There it was, a glimmer on the horizon, far, far away. He had washed onto one of the many islands just off the coast. He sank down onto the hard sand as a sense of hopelessness filled him. Most of the islands were uninhabited. And there were so many! If they sent a search party for him it would be in a few days, when his father returned; his work wouldn't miss him now that he had quit, and Jessica was gone from his life.

Ayden raked his fingers through his mess of slightly wavy golden hair, tugging on the strands in fear and hopelessness. He would probably starve or die of cold before they found him; with all the islands, who knew how long the search would take?

He gave a shake of his head, gritting his teeth as he stood slowly. "No," he said, his voice deep and trembling. "No," louder this time, with force. "I refuse to give up! Do you hear me, storm?! I refuse!"

He spun on his heel, heading towards the dense foliage that populated the island. There had to be dry wood somewhere; he would start a fire in the cave to warm up. Then, once his clothes were dry, he'd look for food and more permanent shelter. If he were lucky he'd be able the source of the water that fed the plants; if not, well, he'd just have to gather rain water.

He felt instantly better once beneath the cover of the pine trees; they offered a good deal of shelter from the rain, and he stopped shivering after only a few minutes of hiking through the wilds, the exertion pumping his blood and warming his tissue. He felt a sudden fierce sense of freedom fill him as he climbed over fallen logs, tripped up small hills and slid down the other sides, mud caking his feet and calves. There was no one here to judge him, no Jessica here to betray him, no father to push him aside. Gods, it felt amazing! Utterly alone!

And then he heard it; the voice that had called to him on the boat ever so sweetly, tenderly. "Ayden...Ayden..."

It was stronger now, louder than before. Curiosity mixed with his new sense of freedom made him bold; he turned towards where he thought the voice had come from and started to run. "I'm here!" he called as he slid on some mud and had to catch himself on the trunk of a tree, "Where are you? Who are you?"

"I'm here," the voice called, clear as bells, yet soft, as if whispered on the wind that gently stirred the drying tendrils of his hair. "Come find me, Ayden..."

"Yes," he whispered hoarsely, the feminine voice sending chills up and down his spine. His breathing was quick with anticipation as he moved through the tangle of the trees, pushing past ferns and stumbling over fallen pinecones and protruding roots. He no longer needed to hear the voice, to have it guide him; he knew instinctively where to run, where he would find what he was looking for.

He nearly fell into the clearing as he tried to slow his run; his foot caught on a rock the size of his two fists and he slipped forward in the mud, tumbling head first into a bubbling pool. Warmth engulfed him, stinging his cool, slightly numb skin. Bubbles surrounded him, kissing him as they expired and popped against his flesh. His limbs moved frantically, kicking and flapping to right himself. He emerged, surfaced in a shower of silver flecks of water, head snapped back, mouth open, gasping for breath. He thought he heard a tinkle of laughter coming from somewhere nearby, but he couldn't place where.

"Hello?" he coughed, having inhaled a mouthful of water. He hopped along the rocky bottom of the warm, fizzing pool, rubbing his sore foot as he reached the edge and leaned against a rock, the perfect place to recline; it was as if the rock had been hollowed out for his form alone. He closed his bright green eyes, a sudden weariness sweeping over him. "I know you're here," he mumbled softly, the gurgling water lulling him into a daze, the bubbles like a massage on every inch of his submerged body. "I heard you...calling me..."

He was dreaming. Hands caressed his aching feet, soothing them, healing the small welts he had gained from running barefoot through the rocky terrain. Those glorious hands moved up to his calves, stroking with the bubbles to relax the tight muscles. They moved up and up, and he held his breath only to be disappointed as they skipped over the area he so wanted them to massage. They moved to his stomach, touching, stroking, to his chest, his shoulders and arms. Then they slid back to his chest, circling the small pink nipples, pinching them gently.

Ayden caught his breath, realizing with a small shiver of pleasure and anticipation he was, in fact, awake. "Please," he said softly as the fingertips of the hands dipped down low on his stomach. He had lost his boxers somehow, and his naked member was growing more and more swollen with every heart beat; with every burst from every bubble against him. They felt like tiny mouths, kissing and sucking along the sides of his heavy shaft.

"Please!" he said again, more urgently. There came that little laugh, a delighted sound that could, in itself, make him harden even more. The tip of one finger touched the very top of the head of his penis, swirling around in a circular movement. He hissed in pleasure, head falling back against the mossy rock that cradled him. She giggled again, obviously pleased at his reaction. One small hand gripped the base of his arousal, squeezing him gently, then harder and harder until she drew a moan of pleasure past his lips. She sighed in approval, then began to pump her little fist up and down along his hard rod, squeezing as her other hand continued to circle the tip of his head.

The steady movement, coupled with the little bursts from the bubbles brought his hips writhing up off of the rock, and Ayden had to grip the sides of the moss beside his head to keep from floating away. When her mouth, small and oh-so tight, slid down over the very top of him he nearly came then and there. Her lips began to massage down his sides, working in time with her pumping hand; her tongue stroked him, up and down, then swirling over his head, her teeth just barely grazing here and there. If he had been in any state of mind to think, he might have wondered at her being so comfortably beneath the surface of the fizzing hot spring so long; but as it was he couldn't think enough to breathe properly himself, let along wonder at such things.

A hoarse cry sprang past his lush lips as she began to suck on him. It was a gentle suckle at first, as if trying to coax milk from him tenderly; but it grew harder, more demanding with each passing moment, her teeth nipping now and again almost in punishment at his taking so very long. His hips began working with her hand and mouth, eagerly moving up and down, up and down until finally they stilled as his warm, salty seed exploded out of him, into her eager mouth and down her throat.

When he finally opened his eyes, he couldn't see past the colors that seemed to be dancing wildly about in the air. Slowly the colors assumed shape, becoming trees, clouds, sky once more. He swallowed, gasping from the little aftershocks trembling through him and slowly looked down. There, in his lap, a young woman was floating gracefully. Her skin was the pale milky color of sea foam as it crests on a wave; her hair was a blond so fine it was nearly the silver color of a gentle spring rain, and it fell in damp ringlets into the bubbling water, where it splayed out like a thick curtain, ever so long and fine. Her lips were a pouting rosy bud that just begged to be kissed, nibbled and sucked until they cried out in pleasure and desire.

But it was her eyes that held him; they were a swirling mass of blues and greens, as if the ocean itself resided there, surging forth through her piercing gaze, unable to decide if it was the clear green of the Pacific, or the striking blue of the Gulf. Ayden knew he could get lost in those heavenly eyes, if his gaze strayed there too long a time. He pulled himself from his light trance, and took to examining the rest of her lithe body.

She was small, there was no doubt about that, but perfectly proportioned with long, slender limbs, round hips and a tiny waist. Her breasts were small but tight and high, the perfect size to fit right in his hand. Her nipples were round and pink, and at that moment were tightly beaded, probably feeling stiff and achy.

She seemed just as fascinated with him as he was with her; her small fingers reached up, tracing his generous mouth, then running along his harsh, square jaw line. She cupped his face in her hands, raising up to examine his golden-tan chest, then his throat, and upwards still to his eyes, where her gaze rested a long time.

"I have been waiting for you a long time indeed, Ayden Fraser," her voice was soft but strong, a voice that sounded young but spoke with a surety that comes only with years and knowledge of oneself. And there was a shadow in her eye that spoke of wisdom much beyond the years of her slender body that straddled his own so enticingly.

"Who are you?" he whispered, knowing no matter what the answer, he was already lost to her. Then she smiled and it was like the sun parting the clouds and shining golden light on a beautiful world. His heart skipped a single beat, his breath caught in the back of his throat; even the water surrounding him seemed to react to her smile, the bubbles coming faster and more frequently.

"I am," she began simply, pausing as if looking for the right words to describe her own being. "I am the spirit of the water; I am the heart of the spring that gurgles up from the womb of the earth to nourish the life on the surface. I am myself. I am...Undine."

"Undine?" the word was familiar, and brought forth memories of college classes and literature. "You're a water elemental?"

She positively beamed at him as she nodded, her arms circling his waist, cradling him to her. "I am. I am the spirit of the spring you warm yourself in now." Her voice and face became more serious as she reached up to stroke his cheek, then run her fingers through his dark golden locks. "I have waited for you, Ayden, for so long now. I was beginning to think you would never come to me." She smiled, wistfully, her ocean eyes filling with a sort of sorrow that being alone for too long can bring.

His chest tightened to see the pain so raw on her face. He scooped her up close, holding her against himself, large hands stroking down her back. "I'm here now. I can't say I understand any of this, but I'm here now."