Curses Ch 09

Chapter 9 - Sirens - Tentacles and Sailors

So there we were, in the classic mermaids-on-a-rock pose, dibbling our fins in the sea. Or rather, according to Olivia, sirens-on-a-rock.

I tossed my newly acquired long curly hair, stretched luxuriously and rubbed my still sensitive boobs with my palms. "That was nice," I said, and grinned to acknowledge that this was an enormous understatement.

"Yup," she agreed, and put both of her hands down to massage her pretty crack, where moments ago a huge cock had stood.

"Here - let me help you with that ..." Of course I had to slide into the water far enough to access Oli's restored pussy.

As I launched into licking her salty goodness, she said, "That reminds me." After giving me a salacious wink, she reached into a crevice near where I'd been sitting and pulled out a remarkably convenient silver necklace. At the bottom of the chain's loop hung what looked like a dog whistle. She put it to her plump lips, and then her boobs expanded over my head as she took a deep breath to blow.

At least, I think she blew on the thing - her tits blocked my view and I heard nada, which is what those things always sound like unless you're a dog (or a wolf, added my dirty mind). And then she hummed an oddly familiar tune. I had only managed to figure out it was a Beatles melody when the water around me started to ... well, thrash with tentacles.

I scrambled up beside Oli, but she just laughed. "By an odd chance, there happens to be an octopus's garden nearby."

Well, of course there is, I thought, as two improbable faces surfaced to stare at us.

"I saw these guys in a Japanese print," she explained, "from a couple hundred years ago. They were all over a pretty woman. The text around them said something like 'the fisherman's wife and the creatures express their mutual sexual pleasure' ... but that was pretty obvious. So, you know - vintage tentacle porn. I don't think the artist had ever seen an octopus in the wild. Me neither, so it doesn't matter. Hokusai and the little one, Ukiyo, can eat us both out a treat, and fuck our throats and asses while they're doing it."

When the creatures started fondling our fins, and then gripping them wicked tight with all those little suction cup thingies, Oli promptly began moaning in anticipation - so I was sold. And while I can safely tell you not to bother trying this at home, because I'm pretty sure octopuses don't actually have long rough tongues - well, it was fantastic (no pun intended).

Hokusai started in by licking and sucking on my pussy, meanwhile groping and twiddling my tits and likewise Oli's - which left four more arms: one for each of our asses and two for my friend's pussy. Then, every few minutes he would alternate the pussy action between us, so I soon discovered how deep those two interwoven tentacles could go.

Meanwhile Ukiyo focused on our heads, giving us each a brace of only slightly smaller tentacles down our throats while using the rest to travel about caressing and squeezing pretty much every other bit of us it could reach ... which happily included our throbbing clits.

Also, maybe the Very Best part was when those creatures shook hands (as it were) inside me. I was pushed over the top every time, and they seemed to love doing it - again and again. Basically, all I can say is that if you ever do meet a benign and magical octopus or two, take them up on that 'mutual pleasure' thing.

Eventually, we wore the devils out. A last bout of hugs and kisses was, I can assure you, enough to trigger a grand finale of orgasms ... all around, I think, although to be fair it's hard to tell about octopuses. They were blushing, though.

Once they'd slouched off back to their garden, I shuffled over until my butt was pressed to Oliva's again. "Do you get much time ... to yourself, like this?"

"Not lately," she admitted, as she pressed her ass back. "But octopi aside, I've gotten laid over at that island pretty regular - it's one of my favorite getaways." She pointed to a small volcanic peak over my shoulder, that may or may not have been there a moment before. "Once in a while, I'll spend a few weeks over there."

"Weeks - in a fantasy world?"

"Sure - there's bananas and mangoes, fresh water, sex-starved castaways. That's why I like to be this variety of mermaid - I prefer to be able to spread my legs."

"Right. And imaginary food ..."

Olivia laughed, and shifted one sticky hand over from her cunnie to mine. "Turns out, we can take as long as we like out here - or wherever else we want. When we get back, it'll be about two hours after we left. Still, you're right. You don't want to spend too much time in your own head. That's why my castaways are real folks like Jumbo Jim. There's a cargo door in the side of the Venus to drop him off."

That sounded appealing. I started to imagine Jim doing us both - and then I wondered why my visit to Jimbo had been in real time - although to be honest, I wasn't actually so sure about that. Or, for that matter, whether we'd even been in a real basement. Maybe the ship had been as much a fantasy as our games.

"How long was I actually, um, on board the Venus?"

"A couple of hours," Oli said with a laugh. "I had enough time to take care of a new dude. He was booked as wanting a quickie. Well, that's what he'd fantasized - a hot babe at his door, needing release." She lifted a bare shoulder to offer me her breast to grope - which I gleefully did - and winked to acknowledge her hotness.

That led to a reef romp that was made delightfully awkward by our flipper feet. Oli demonstrated how we could balance on our perch and still accomplish a most satisfactory sixty-nine. And I suppose that it goes without saying that her fantasy reef lacked barnacles.

"I embellished, a little," she finally continued, after flopping around to sprawl comfortably in my arms. It took me a moment to remember we'd been discussing her morning quickie. "Once I was in the door, I was just as hungry as he imagined. Only, I kept teasing him to the edge ... and I wouldn't let him cum. Plus over the next hour I morphed into a catgirl."

She mimed long whiskers and tail, and I looked forward to playing with Olivia-the-cat.

"His cum - once I let him have it - wasn't quite as amazing as our Jim's, but it was still pretty impressive." Here she patted the air to where she claimed her belly had been stretched. "Another satisfied customer," she added. "I think he might go onto my 'regulars' list."

By the time I'd pondered all that, Olivia - as befit a siren - had begun to sing. Still thinking carnal thoughts about pirates, I finally recognized the song my fellow mermaid was warbling in a lilting soprano. It was not a dirty ditty, such as I'd heard Jimbo sing ("'Twas on the Good Ship Venus" was my favorite). Rather she sang "Poor Wand'ring One", a ditzy pirate love-ballad from the late 1800s, or thereabouts.

As if summoned, a sailing ship appeared only a few miles off.

"Cool! That looks like the Venus, now," I said.

Oli shaded her eyes and squinted. "Nope. That's Black Jacques' ship."

"So there's another horny pirate hereabouts?"

"Um. Technically he's not a pirate. The Nannette is an armed merchantman. He's from Martinique, like you, but maybe less French and more Senegalese - hence his name." She laughed at my bemused expression, my ancestry having only been assigned this morning. "But yeah, he's definitely horny."

Excellent, I thought.

"It is indeed!" I'd been thinking out loud, again. "We were probably both wishing somebody was watching us play with our leggy friends - usually Black Jacques or Jumbo Jim show up on the far horizon, to build up the antici--pation. Well, they'll just have to watch you and I fuck some more, until they get here."

And so we did, eating each other out thoroughly - until the Nannette's crew clambered out of a pinnace onto our rock. In the event, they consisted of Jacques himself and two guys - the three of them looked like Jamaican rappers - plus a hot redheaded babe. She seemed to be their groupie but, on the other hand, she was dressed (and armed) much like I had been this morning.

Well, you can do the math - three guys and three girls. Once our guests had piled their clothes in their little boat, we paired off and fucked creatively. And then we traded about and started over.

Jacques was great - he was tall, and his cock was not only big, but prettier than Jim's lumpy one. With my fins wrapped around his waist, he was able to grip my scaly bum with his wide hands and bounce me on his apparatus in a most satisfying manner. He also used one of those hands to probe my pussy, which was likewise nice.

But my favorite was the redhead (who, it turned out, was actually named Jamaica). She was as energetically bumptious as Oli, had hands as wide and busy as Jaques', plus she could curse as creatively as Jim. After we'd brought each other off with our snake-like tongues, I remembered that she existed outside this fantasy, and we quietly exchanged phone numbers.

After a final attempt at a combined, orgiastic fuck, with all of us balanced on our rocky perch, the practically-pirates climbed back into their pinnace and rowed away. They were still pleasingly bare-assed when they scrambled back aboard the Nannette.

Oli and I waved merrily, and once they'd set sail, I rose up to lick my lover's ear. "My turn to wear that whale wang," I whispered, and then I slid into the water with a splash. By the time she'd joined me, I had a proper cock-stand and we were off for home. I knew now that we didn't have to steer a course - and sure enough, when we next surfaced we were back in a swimming pool two hundred miles from any sea.

We climbed onto the deck - our feet having only just been restored and our linking cock gone - to find Grace was still on her deckchair, although she was wet from a dip of her own. She was reading again, but she was also idly rubbing her pussy through the spandex. I wondered if this was thanks to her magazine, or whether she'd actually registered us fucking ... either just now or back when we'd breached, that last time we'd been here. Frankly, I hoped she'd seen at least some of our mermaid action.

Olivia stepped out of the pool and, all wet and naked, lifted Grace to her feet to deliver a good, long hug. "I love you, Mom!"

With a broad smile Grace hugged her back, saying, "And I love you, dear." And then she lifted an arm wide to invite me. "You too, Danielle."

I had, in the past few days, evolved well beyond the point where a nudie group hug could any longer embarrass me. I skipped over and joined the clinch.

"Please," said Grace, "both of you - do stay, as long as you like!" She sounded to be on the verge of happy tears.

I was tearing up, myself. Again I glanced to Olivia, and again the little shrug. The request was to both of us - which suggested Grace knew we weren't entirely legit, but was deliberately avoiding spelling it out, for fear we actually might leave. Olivia must have come to the same conclusion - she just said, "Of course - we'll stay for as long as you'll have us. Come downstairs to visit once in a while, if you like!"

I was deeply pleased at this conformation we were family - after a fashion - and that Oli and I had officially become an item.