by Joey W. Hill
His hands descended to her waist again, outlining her hips, and she turned her head, liking the look of that strong hand alongside her bare hip bone, a delicate point next to his curved knuckles. Kyle bent, his cheek caressing the indentation of her waist, and she trembled as his lips followed. His palms slid down to her thighs, beneath, caressing her buttocks and then his grip was on her thighs again, over them, between them, gently parting them, his breath warm against her skin.
Annie sighed, complying. Garnet slid to the right of her vision, down to her ankles, putting his cool palms upon one as Kyle seduced her. Kyle’s hands gripped her hips and shifted her to the left, just an inch or two, and put her directly under one of the warm sprays of water emitting from the cliff walls. At the same moment she felt Garnet's touch on her other ankle and a quick jerk as he spread her wide and locked down her legs.
Two things happened at once. She reflexively strained upward at the pressure of the water on her clit and found she was bound to the rock in the spread eagle position Garnet had placed her in. Her head snapped to the right, seeking the source of the bond. She saw damp strands of some type of braided water vegetation, what she had thought was the soft caress of Garnet’s hair on her skin as his lips had moved over those areas.
The glistening, varied colors of green crisscrossed up her arm, from wrist to armpit so it formed a bond that she could not break. Apparently the bitter end at her wrist was somehow anchored under the rock such that she could not break loose. Indeed, from her absorption with Kyle, it could have well been braided from water life growing out of the rock by Garnet while Kyle compelled her attention away from him.
Panic was immediate, but at the same time was drowned, literally, in the sensation that Kyle's movement of her body had accomplished. With her clitoris positioned directly under one of the smaller waterfalls of warm water, the distance the water fell gave it enough impact to send jolts of pleasure screaming deep inside her pussy. It made her buck upward in one half-shocked, half-panicked reaction.
"Stop." She strangled out on a gasp. Squirming did not help, but instead gave the water a variable pattern like the manipulation of fingers, but far more consistent and strong. Her exposed clitoris and labia were glistening, and not just from water. Her head fell back and Garnet was there. It was his turn to plunge. He seized her lips in a kiss and she bit, fighting him by the command of her outraged mind. There was a feral growl low in her throat that even to her own ears sounded like the ferocity of a cat in heat. His powerful hand locked into her short hair and he yanked her head back, laying his own teeth to her vulnerable neck, but not to draw blood. Instead he descended upon her jugular with sucks and nips that had electric volts running between her clit and neck and back again, shooting sparks of sensation into the sensitive tissues of her breasts and nipples. Her hips were moving of their own accord, imitating the act of being fucked, slapping down against the rock then lifting, then down again, each downward movement causing the water to make a lingering stroke like a long, firm tongue, bringing her closer to orgasm.
Then Kyle's hands were on her hips again, holding them in a tilted position, forcing them to stay still that way as the water battered her swollen pussy. Annie cried out, unable to climax, but so shudderingly close that any movement at all would make her come. As if the demon spawn from hell knew it, Kyle bent and placed his hot mouth over her pulsing clit. No tongue, just the pressure of his mouth mixing with the heat of flowing water, storing the impact of it, so it was as if his mouth was a hot cavern over the folds of her sex. The warm water filtered beneath the press of his lips, into the grooves. His mouth and tongue shifted slightly, precisely, and a moment later her eyes widened as the water bathing the folds angled down the crevice between her buttocks, tickling her there. The way he was holding her hips tilted upward, his fingers gripping and spreading her ass cheeks, facilitated the angle of the water, and she swallowed too little air, struggling desperately to move and held fast by his grip.
"God, please…" It was a guttural plea, and he made that curious, dolphin-whale noise against her, only there was nothing soothing about it. He looked up at her, and she saw it in his eyes. They wanted to drive her as high as possible without pushing her over the edge. Who knew that merpeople could appreciate the art of prolonging pleasure? Any other time she would appreciate one man, no two, who wanted to take the time, but at the moment, her body was screaming for a slam, bam, thank you fuck. And not just because she was aching for it physically. She was bound helpless by two strangers who had not asked her consent, and all her civilized notions were warring with her body's obvious response to them. It made her feel vulnerable, raw. A quick screw would make her feel in control again, but they were not going to give her that. When they fucked her, if that was part of their plan, she would be so mindless, so out of control, she would deny them nothing, lose herself in them.
The one word he had spoken against her sent ripples through her skin. Slowly, the way they did time lapse photography of the opening of a rose bloom, she felt his tongue ease into her drenched folds, water following the path he picked.
She cried out, and her traitorous legs, though bound, opened even wider. Her body convulsed, moving with the primitive rhythm that all nerves so aroused knew, straining toward a pinnacle she could not reach because the damn man, damn fish, would not let her hips move. His grip was like iron, his tongue deep in her pussy but studiously staying away from her clit, despite her whimpers.
Abruptly, her wrists were free, and her legs. The men were lifting her. The shudders of reaction had not made it from her neck to her toes before they had her turned on her stomach and rebound. Just as the upward slope of the rock had tilted the ripe folds of her clit and labia to the probing of his lips and maddening tattoo of the water, now the water struck her buttocks and the base of her pussy, the opening that wept to be filled. Streams of cold water and warm both, the alternating temperatures that caused her to utter a deep, soul wrenching groan, so aroused now that the physical had cracked into the emotional. She wanted fulfillment on all different levels, reassurance. She wanted to be fucked, she wanted to be cuddled, she wanted to believe in true love again, she wanted this particular moment to continue forever, she wanted it to stop, because it was cracking her open to soul level and she wasn't sure she could mend herself if that happened.
But that might be the point. Kyle's hand was on her back, his fingertips sliding down her spine, no longer the hungry touch of a lover, but an incredibly tender touch, like a child seeking the soft skin of his mother. Then his palms cupped her buttocks and she felt his lips touch the left cheek, his jaw caressing it. She heard him speak, crooning again, only with a sad note this time.
She turned her head to look at him, and he had his face tilted up to meet her gaze. Annie parted her lips and flexed her fingers as if she would reach out and touch him if she could. Desire raced through her body like a fever.
Strong hands replaced his touch on her ass and she felt the broad tip of Garnet’s cock teasing her wet entrance. Ripples went all the way to her womb, imagining how it would feel to have him sliding in there, but looking at the silver sad eyes blinking at her, she knew that wasn't what she wanted. That was the quick, soul-sucking fuck she had known often enough in her younger days to know it was poison. Even though her body screamed that any cock would do at this moment, her heart and soul knew better. Once they had been shattered by abuse and misuse of the body's sensual potential, they never forgot.
"No," she rasped. Then, stronger. "No!"
The head of the cock was pushing in and Garnet’s hands were spreading her ass wider. The abrupt pressure of water on the bundle of nerves against her rectum made her cry out in near orgasm, but the pleasure was painful. Strong emotions wrapped their hands around the sensual responses and squeezed cruelly, sending conflicting signals to every nerve ending. But once the emotions became involved, there was no way the body's voice could hold dominance over a woman's will.
She drew in a breath. "No!
" she shouted, clenching her fists against the bindings and slamming them against the rock. "No. Stop. I don't want this. I don't want you!"
She jerked her head around to glare at the red-haired merman.
It might have been her anger, her tone, her struggles to thwart him with clenched ass cheeks and indignant twitches, as far as she could manage in terms of physical withdrawal, but it wasn't. When she turned her head and said "you", it was that which froze Garnet's movements. He stopped, his grip on her ass easing to a light resting of his fingertips on her skin. His hips likewise backed off, and while she still felt the brush of that enormous arousal against her, it was no longer penetrating, just a faint rub against her swollen tissues, as it moved with his breathing.
His expression was not one of anger. There was some physical frustration, but not as much as she would have expected. In fact, there was a glimmer of amusement, perhaps regret, but not for the loss of her compliance. Something else. A reluctant pleasure, warring with the regret. The two emotions confused her. She was good at reading faces and knew she wasn’t wrong about what she was seeing. She shifted her gaze to Kyle's face and filled in the missing piece.
Hope was naked on his face, nothing subtle or hidden in the raw expression, including the fear that she was including them both in the rejection. There was something going on here, far more significant than two males vying for sexual rights over the same female. The hope and fear in his eyes were as fragile as the glass menagerie in Tennessee Williams’ play.
Garnet confirmed her intuition by looking toward his companion and making a questioning keen. A struggle went on in Kyle's face.
"Let me go," Annie said softly, lifting her arms against the bonds to illustrate.
Kyle looked at her, then back at Garnet and gave a short, quick nod, the hope replaced by sadness again. In an anguished flash, Annie realized that he thought she was rejecting them both.
Garnet had freed her one ankle when Kyle began backing off, his eyes never leaving her face. He was sinking, preparing to go below the surface. He was leaving.
"Wait!" she called out, her bound fingers straining for him.
He stopped, chin almost touching the water's surface, the silver eyes almost as blank. That blankness was a shield, covering whatever it was he had been hoping to obtain from her, whatever his friend had been hoping for him. Though the regret suggested Garnet had held some conflicting hope that Kyle wouldn’t find what he sought.
Embracing him, choosing him, permitting him to take her body apparently was a significant matter, something that would alter the path of their existence in a way that seemed to matter very much to him. She knew enough of the Web to know if she helped him alter it, it would somehow alter her path as well. That was the way it worked. She was being asked to make the choice without knowing what the path was, for him or for her. If she went back and extrapolated their very adult situation to the stuff of fairy tales, perhaps it was to transfer him, make him human. Or perhaps it was a reverse situation. She was to become one of his kind.
Perhaps acid rain was making their women sterile. Perhaps with the aid of magic, a human woman could be transformed to merwoman and help increase the population. The tattoo pattern, hell, his very existence, suggested they were beings of magic, who knew its potential in a way humans only dreamed and hoped it existed.
Perhaps they even waited in places like this, knowing when a woman came alone to a secluded, remote spot like this, she was already close enough to nature to have the ability to adapt.
And what were the chances of a lone woman being out here? She believed in choice, but she also believed the Lord and Lady led their children to where they were supposed to be, if their hearts, minds and souls were open, cleansed. Well, she had had nearly a month of purification in her vision quest, and it had led her here. What was she afraid of? If she had found this place, a place quite possibly undisturbed by any human, ever, then their meeting was fated.
She had walked for days with no company but animals, trees and rocks. She knew their voices and movements, and was not afraid to be a part of their world, day or night, any longer.
Annie smiled. Whatever transformation would occur, would occur because it was the Will of something far larger than herself. That was the true lesson of being out here day after day, returning step by aching step to a closer embrace with the Mother so much of man's world had excluded or abandoned. Still there was one thing, one reservation.
She beckoned, and Kyle drifted closer until their eyes were no more than an inch apart, her cheek still resting on the rock. She reached out and touched his face, cradling it, gazing into the silver eyes.
Male aggression was there, the restless primal animal that called to a woman's heart and loins both. But she saw intelligence. Hunger, tempered with understanding that Fate must be respected. Most importantly, if she had not already felt this and more in his touch, she saw kindness, an honest openness, the quality she sought in every man she embraced. She sensed good from him. Whatever his intent, it was not evil.
She was thinking way too much, and this wasn't a moment for theorizing. The incredulity of it struck her and warmth bloomed in her heart, awe at what might just be possible.
Her other wrist was free now and her ankles, and she turned on her side. She watched his gaze leave hers and travel down her body, study her curves and angles. Physical desire rose again in his eyes, encompassing the other motives.
Pushing herself up to a sitting position, she raised one hand to comb her hair back into a sleek cap on her head. She felt a touch upon it and looked at Garnet, his palm fitting the contour of her skull. His expression was resigned but peaceful. Obviously desiring her still, he had turned over their direction completely to Kyle and her. She’d made her choice and both men were honoring it. Their dual attention prickled over her body like a cool wind in sweltering heat, a shuddering contrast of sensations.
She smiled, scooted forward to the edge of the rock. Kyle swam in closer and she held out her arms. His hands closed on her forearms and he lifted her with ease, an amazing strength that he now used to his advantage. He lowered her in the water, a controlled, inch by inch descent, in more ways than one, because as her thighs entered the water, she felt the brush of his hard arousal, sliding up the channel between them. Annie's mouth opened, drawing in a breath, and his face watched her, the doubt gone. All that was left was the male drive to take, to fuck and make her writhe and cry out, the desire that she make him harder with her pleas, make his thrusts more demanding. She saw it in the light in his eyes, the set of his jaw, felt it in the relentless clamp of his hands, and she completed it by making her mental capitulation a physical one, her thighs opening so that as he lowered her into the water, he lowered her onto himself.
He took his time, and she was grateful for that, at first. He was well endowed, and it took some adjusting, some movements of her hips to work onto him, movements that increased his human-like breathing function, the chest rising with the increased pulse rate. Annie moaned as he slowly penetrated, his lips touching her breast as she descended in the water. She curled her arms around his neck and his grip moved to her hips, wresting a cry from her as he pushed her down to the hilt that final inch, with hard purpose. The impact shot to her core and wrested a deep groan from her, and from him.
Framing his face with her hands, she kissed him without reservation, her choice made. He wrapped his arms around her upper arms and back, so her arms were folded in except for her hands on his face, like a bird drawing its wings into itself, wrapped in the embrace of its mother. He used that position to lift her and then push her down again, a stroke that shuddered through her pussy and told her the orgasm was going to come hot and hard, like his impressive cock, and she was unable to keep her hold on his mouth, had to tear free to gulp in air, though her heart turned over when he pressed a soft kiss to her jaw as she broke the contact.
She should have known they wouldn't let it be easy, or over that quickly. Garnet's hands clasped her wais
t, and his wet, warm body slid up against her back. His hands came forward, caressing her breasts again, rubbing them against Kyle's chest so the friction of the nipples made her arch. Kyle's hold eased, and he laid her back against Garnet, her face pressed to his thick neck. It was the first time in her life she'd had the experience of being held and shared between the embrace of two men, and now that the moment of conflict had passed, she felt comfortable being between them, as long as it was Kyle she faced.
She felt Garnet’s desire for her and accepted it, for she saw in Kyle’s eyes he would give his friend this gift, share their pleasure, if it did not disturb her. It didn’t, not as long as the emotional pact had been sealed between their two hearts, something she felt so sure of now that she oddly almost felt like the two organs were beating in sync.