Ichthyrotica Pt. 01

Vanderdecken's Cove was a strange place. Beautiful beach, calm blue water, but strange. Legend says it got its name from the infamous captain of Der Fliegende Hollander, said to have anchored here briefly before setting on the final leg of its cursed voyage.

Strange occurrences plagued the cove for centuries: rock formations that appeared one day and disappeared the next; a man who was alleged to have jumped out of a local lighthouse and never landed; a local drunk who claimed to have seen two suns and three moons in the sky, and strange crablike creatures on the shore.

Most people, except for the odd, the brave, or the foolish stayed away from the cove. The man strolling along the shore was strange and brave, but not foolish.

He was a traveler, a collector of stories. Strange places offered the best opportunities for the fantastic. The possibilities interested the man; the fascinating stories that might wash up with the tides. Stories such as the woman half-buried in the sand near the water.

"How serendipitous," the traveler thought. "There's a story in this one."

It wasn't so much her position in the sand but her beauty, nudity, and heavy pregnancy which attracted his attention. The man was bold: he could have stood at a distance, or behind a rock for the sake of her modesty, but the beach was public, in spite of the rare visitor, and not clothing optional. There was a reason for her unclothed state, he knew.

He trotted over to the supine woman. She was at the water's edge, flat on her back, half in, half out of the wet sand. The sand was a mirror, reflecting the glow of her shiny wet body.

Her eyes were closed and she breathed softly, running her hands across her ponderous but round, melon-shaped, and highly placed breasts, and then over her large, curved, fertile belly.

The man noticed the woman was well built with broad shoulders ("Swimmer's shoulders," he thought) and wide hips. She had a broad face with a strong jaw, a bell-shaped nose, a medium mouth, pale pink lips, and eyes placed equidistant from the center; overall, a beautiful symmetric face.

Her hair was waist-length, dark gold; cascading in wet wavelets to rest on the sand, her shoulders, and between her breasts. Her skin was bronzed light gold, hairless; her bald, wet pink pussy stood out like a rose in a golden field. The effect was extraordinarily sensual.

The man, accustomed to strange sights, felt stirrings between his legs, but he was more interested in her story. It felt impolitic to take liberties.

He watched impassively, noting her well-sculpted arms and legs. "An athletic woman."

One hand strayed to her pussy; fingers dipped between the folds and slid in and out. The other tweaked and pinched her right nipple. She bit her lower lip and flicked her tongue across her mouth.

The traveler was sorely tempted to masturbate; discipline honed through years of travel restrained him. He waited while she fingered herself to climax. Her soft whispers turned to low moans. Her ripe belly quaked in orgasm; her pussy squirted cum, coating her hand.

She withdrew her fingers and placed her cum-soaked hand on the wet sand. A small wave washed over it as she settled. After lying quietly for a few moments, the woman opened her eyes and looked at him. She had hazel eyes. "A true golden girl," he thought.

She didn't scream or frantically cover herself, but lay there in all her full ripe sensuality, right eyebrow cocked, regarding him with slight disdain and some curiosity. "You're standing in my sun," she said.

"Oh! I'm sorry," he replied. "I was just curious."

"Curious?" she asked. She lifted herself out of the shallow trough, which filled with water, and sat, curled, her arms around her legs; breasts and belly against the knees. "I sort of think you'd be more than that." Her voice was smooth, sensual, alto with a slight husk.

The man sat beside her, looking at her belly. "Well, it's not every day I see a beautiful woman of your condition in this circumstance. And you seem bold and unembarrassed."

"I have nothing to be ashamed about," she replied, smiling. She sat back and ran her hand over her belly.

"How long?" the man asked.

"I don't know. It could be any minute to a month. I think there's more than one."

"You mean you haven't been to a doctor?"

"It's....complicated. A...doctor would ask questions I'm not ready to answer. It would make trouble for me, for my....children...and the others."

"Well," he said. "I can understand if some of the men in town would want discretion; that is if you....I mean I don't want to imply...er, this is awkward."

"Don't be embarrassed. The men weren't involved."

"Ah! Strangers then."

"I don't know if they were strangers. Strange yes. Like I said, it's complicated."

"Can you tell me about it? I like stories."

"I don't think you'll believe me."

"Well, I don't know about that. I sort of collect stories. I've heard some strange ones in my time."

"My story's stranger than most," she said with a wry smile.

"Let me be the judge of that," the man said, moving closer.

The woman was pensive. "Okay," she agreed. She took a deep breath. "It happened last fall..."

******

Amanda Grace stood on the platform wondering, "Why did I agree to this?" By any standard she should be having a good time. The yacht was luxurious, the party at its peak, the moon ripe and full, and she was young and beautiful.

Beautiful enough to attract a rich boyfriend; a rich, dull boyfriend. A man so dull, he deadened everything by his presence. Currently, he was on the main deck ruining a moderately hot party by talking about cat fur.

His father owned a company that made vacuum cleaners. The dull boyfriend started his conversation with vacuum cleaners and degenerated to hairballs. Amanda decided to break up with him, then. It wasn't as if she needed the money.

Amanda wasn't rich but she wasn't poor either. Her background was upper middle class California. She had the classic California looks. She was still young; she could afford to wait for someone better. "I just wish Harry hadn't convinced me to come on this trip."

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Oh!" Harry had walked up unnoticed. Handsome Harry, Amanda's best friend. If he weren't gay it might have been him, rather than Mister Dull. Amanda was the first person he came out to back in high school. She defied her clique and a string of homophobic boyfriends to stay friends with him. He was the closest thing to a brother she ever had.

"You startled me, Harry."

"Sorry." They stood on the platform, looking at the moonlit sea. "Told you he was dull," said Harry.

"Yeah, you tried to warn me. I didn't listen as usual."

"Why do you think I convinced you to go on his yacht? He's a boring self-deluded idiot. All it takes is a good party to bring the dull out."

"I'm going to break up with him."

"Good."

They sat down. Harry took off his shoes and socks while Amanda removed her sandals. He rolled up his pants, she hiked up her gown, and they dangled their feet in the water. "What's wrong with me, Harry? I'm thirty in a few months. I thought I'd be married by now."

"Nothing; just some bad boyfriends. I had a few myself. Why do you want to get married anyway? You've got a great career. You're still young. People get married at forty and no one blinks an eye."

Amanda sighed. "I don't know. I mean, Mom married right out of college and it worked out great for her. Dad's wonderful and he was her first boyfriend. I just can't find a decent boy. They either lie, cheat, control, or just think about sex. The last one's boring," Amanda looked at Harry. "And the only good one's not interested in girls."

Harry chuckled. "Maybe you should try out for 'The Bachelorette'."

"Maybe I should."

They watched the water. The moon rose high, casting a silver glow over the cove. The beach was a snowy white line just a mile away. Amanda got an idea. "Harry, I think I'm going to take a swim."

"Right now? At night? That's a little dangerous, isn't it?"

"Daring maybe, but there aren't any boats about, the water's warm, the beach is just a mile, and I don't want to be on this boat another minute."

"Uh, Mandy, you didn't bring a swimsuit."

"So?"

"Oh...well I guess I'll tell dullsville you decided to swim home. Meet you at the house? That is if you don't want to get arrested for indecent exposure?"

"Heh!" Amanda chuckled. She stood and shimmied out of her dress, then took off her panties; she wasn't wearing a bra (Harry, while not interested in Amanda sexually, did appreciate her aesthetics. She'd been a competitive swimmer in her teens [in fact, she won silver at the Olympics], was a vegetarian, swam and weight lifted for exercise. It showed in her well-sculpted body; curvy, with D-cup breasts. Her taut abs, muscled arms and legs, and round sculpted ass reminded him of a Rodin. She could have stepped off the pedestal.). Amanda's waist-length blonde hair was the only hair on her body.

"I'll take your clothes."

"Thanks." She stood at the edge, letting the mild breeze stir her tresses.

"Be careful. I heard strange stories about this cove."

"Don't worry," she said. Amanda didn't so much dive as pour into the water. Gliding beneath the surface with a dolphin kick, she surfaced some distance from the yacht. Harry had gone to the main deck. Mister Dull was looking at her, a perplexed look on his face. Some of the guests pointed and laughed. She waved and dove under the water.

"Bliss!" Amanda loved the water. Ever since childhood, she loved the flow of water across her skin. Competitive swimming came naturally to her. At the Olympics, she missed gold by just a quarter second.

An injury kept her out of the next games. When she recovered her priorities had changed and she gave up the sport. Still, she loved to swim.

She swam butterfly for fifty yards or so and then flipped to do the backstroke. The flow of water across her breasts hardened her nipples. Water flowed around her pussy and ass. "I think I'm getting wet," she thought.

Water was always sensual to her but tonight she felt horny. Amanda realized it was a long time since she had sex. Mister Dull didn't seem interested in the fuck.

At first she'd welcomed the change from earlier grab-ass boyfriends. Now, "I think I'll go to the local bar tomorrow and see if I can get a date. I need some action."

Amanda stopped and treaded water. She was halfway between the yacht and the beach. Amanda didn't feel tired so she decided to swim for a few more minutes.

Just as she started a series of backstrokes, Amanda felt a tug. "?" she thought and started again. Another tug, "!" Amanda felt cold fear. There could be only one reason for that tug, "Shark!"

She reached under to feel her legs, certain she'd find a jagged bite or ragged stump of bone. Surprise set in when she found her legs intact and no bite marks.

"? Maybe it was driftwood." Still, "Better safe than sorry. I don't want to become the first victim in a Spielberg movie." She started towards shore when, with a huge, startling splash, a shadow erupted out of the water and bore down upon the swimmer.

Amanda just had time to gasp a startled, "What th...?" before her face was covered by a cold, wet form that blocked her vision. Her surprise was compounded by another shock as cold lips pressed against her own.

Shock turned to outrage as a cold, leathery tongue slid into her open mouth. "?! He's kissing me?!" Outrage grew into pure rage. She started to fight back against the mysterious prick taking liberties. "Get off me you perv!"

To her surprise, immediately after the unwelcome kiss, her mysterious assailant grabbed her hands and, with surprising strength, wrenched her arms to her sides. Her hands were in an unbreakable iron grip, while her arms were forced flush against her attacker's body.

Amanda's assailant then curled his legs around her own and forced them apart. Amanda found her front body, from head to feet, pressed tight against her opponent.

"What's happening?! Who is this?!" the struggling woman wondered. Her already intense shock and outrage rose to new levels when, to her mortification, a cold, rubbery object inserted itself between the folds of her pussy. "?! He's raping me!"

Amanda's struggles increased to frenzied levels. She tried to bite the tongue in her mouth but the object was leather tough. Her struggles to pull away were frustrated by the assailant's tight grip on her hands. He also had an amazing flexibility which allowed him to match her movements, moving forward when she moved back, undulating his body with hers.

Amanda felt as if her body was literally glued to the mystery man. "I can't break free!" All the while the man's flesh wound its way through her tunnel. The smooth skin slid against her wet walls on its way to the womb.

His pelvis thrust and ground against her pussy and she responded, not so much voluntarily, as her adhered state left the woman little choice.

Through her panic and outrage Amanda had some time to note the smoothness of his skin, especially around the pelvic region. "He's hairless," she realized; a note for the authorities.

Another shocking revelation: Amanda's struggles had kept her underwater for some time. She hadn't had to surface for air and she realized why: "Omigod, this...man! He's forcing air into me!"

The man's mouth was glued to Amanda's; each breath she took came from him. "How is he doing it?!" The man needed to breath somehow and yet he didn't bring them both to the surface.

Amanda began to tire as her struggles proved futile in dislodging her assailant. Then came a new shock: something brushed her back. Amanda's eyes widened as another assailant gripped both her hands and her attacker's. A second pair of legs wrapped around her own. His body fit neatly against her back; torso to crotch followed the curve of her spine to her round ass.

He placed his head on her left shoulder, next to her resuscitating rapist. Amanda's head movements were restricted. She was unable to see her new assailant but a new outrage entered her body. A rubbery tube slid into her ass crack and slithered through her rectum.

Amanda's eyes popped and she "Mmmm'ed!" in outrage at the second penetration. Now she had two bare crotches grinding into her from front and behind. Trapped between two undulating bodies Amanda could only grunt in frustration and anger as her body was forced to respond to her captors' movements.

"Who are these men?!" Amanda thought. Even as they thrust into her, the men swam deeper into the ocean, carrying her along. The silver light of the moonlit sea faded to a deep indigo. "Where are they taking me?"

The men swam remarkably fast; Amanda felt as if trapped between two dolphins. The feel of smooth slick skin sliding against her body, bald crotches grinding against her bare pussy and ass, rubber smooth cocks thrusting into her depths, caused confusion in her mind. Amanda's body responded, to her shock, in ways unexpected. "I'm cumming?!"

Amanda acknowledged her helplessness in her captors' grip. She had no choice but to allow them her body. Still she did not want to give them the satisfaction of an orgasm. Her body had other plans.

The glide of her first captor's smooth and lubricated cock over her swollen clit, activated pleasure points Amanda forgot she possessed. The slick skin rubbed across her g-spot, causing a spasm in her pelvis. "Oh God! He's passed my cervix!" she thought.

The captor's cock entered her womb, the cockhead brushed against the wall, firing her nerves. Convulsions raced through Amanda's body.

When Amanda came, warm cum flooded over the man's shaft and squirted into the water. The experience was unprecedented and sensual. She weaved, flowed, and came with the men. Her assailants matched her orgasms perfectly.

The men's bodies absorbed her sexual quakes and incorporated them into their flow. Amanda's breath quickened, her hot breath matched by her captor. Air flowed between the two.

The entwined threesome became a symbiote, locked in a sensual ballet. Amanda's captors took her energy and reflected it back into her body. A cycle of orgasms began; when she came, they came. Heat bloomed in her womb and ass as cum flooded both. "Oh God!" she thought, eyes rolled back.

Thoughts of violation and police response conflicted with her present experience. She never came this long or hard, or so long underwater. Every time she tried to ponder the impossibility of the situation, orgasms dulled her thoughts.

The indigo around the three deepened to pitch black. Amanda didn't notice, locked as she was in orgasmic heat. They swam on, trailing warm cum in the cold dark.

To Be Continued.