Seawitch

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Off in the distance, the black sky met the black sea. They met at the point farthest from here, a sort of secretive, clandestine lovers’ rendezvous. But tonight, there was no indication where the horizon may be, or even if there still was a horizon. Whether the black sky refused to meet the raging ocean, or whether the ocean was enraged by the sky’s absence was moot. This was not going to be a common lovers’ spat. The relationship of the sea-sky horizon was beyond quarrel.

On Point Styx, a foghorn bemoaned its lonely existence with a subtle lament, harmonizing with the sea’s counterpoint to chant a foreboding dirge. The sky, hurling an angry thunderstorm at the sea, had knocked out the power only moments ago. With no natural light, and only occasional punctuations of crisp exclamations of lightning, the night was a warp on the human continuum.

The knock at the door had sounded immediately after one nearby thunderclap. The tapping of the brass knocker had been more startling than the detonation of the thunder, if only because it was so unexpected.

Just as I opened the door, a streak of lightning lit the sky behind a pair of indiscernible silhouettes. The brilliance of the electric bolt overwhelmed the feeble illumination of the candle stub I held in my hand. I could feel the mist of the Atlantic upon my face in the open doorway. I stood there, waiting for my eyes to dilate after their sudden contraction from the flash.

“Angela, for Christsake, get out of the doorway and let us in!”

I recognized Sandy’s voice, and was never so glad to hear it. The relentless reproof of the storm would be less punishing with another human in the cottage, and my Jorge was not to be back until Friday.

Jorge and I were renting this cottage for the summer. It was a delightful spot, right on the beach on the long arm of Cape Cod. Jorge’s boss owned the property. Having recently become a widower, Charles was still adjusting. His deceased wife had been buried at sea, and he had no heart to use the beach house this season. He let Jorge and I use it for well below market price.

The only downside to the arrangement was that Jorge was only able to enjoy it on weekends. He arrived after work on Fridays, and left very early on Monday morning. It was nearly one hundred miles to work in the north end of Boston, so he stayed at our townhouse in the city the other four nights of the week.

Sandy was a neighbor. The cottage immediately adjacent to ours was strictly a weekly rental. The cottage after that was Sandy’s.

“Angela!”

I stepped aside. I was so thankful to have company in the obscurity of the darkness.

Sandy and her male companion stepped in. The candle flame flickered and died…the lone source of light gone. Just as I closed the door against the elements, another crack of lightning lit up the night; for nearly two seconds it was tuzla escort as though it was daylight. The white foam of the Atlantic could be seen eating at the sand. The beach was giving in to Triton’s excesses.

Sandy was the sort of woman that every man dreams about as having for a neighbor. Her body was the main attraction whenever she was on the beach. Her long raven hair flowed about her shoulders, back, and breasts. Her deep dark eyes always danced with a sort of wickedness, seemingly just short of evil.

She had lovely long legs, and when she walked, it was always as if she had on high heels, even when barefoot. Her legs were topped with a tight little rump that seemed to beckon. I’ve never before been aroused by another woman, but Sandy seemed able to provoke thoughts of lust no matter who beheld her. If I could feel fire well up in me, I can only imagine what she did to a man.

Sandy was an annual attraction here. Certainly, to look at her, one would guess that she was nineteen, twenty at most. But, it seems, listening to gossip, that she has been here for generations! Her sun bathing is legend.

Only yesterday I found myself studying her flawless breasts as she lie sleeping in the sun, her bikini top lying unused beside her in the sand. It wasn’t that I was jealous or envious of that bust. I was enthralled, drawn to the pair as if they summoned me with an unknown capacity to convene.

As I had studied her, I felt my loins slowly contract. Gradually, I became aware of a wetness. Slowly, I moved my long fingers inside my string bikini and explored the epicenter of my quake.

I’d watched Sandy’s slow, rhythmic breathing, gently lifting and returning her breasts in the Cape’s summer sun. I released my own breasts from their bikini’s captivity and gently caressed and explored them. With my left hand, I pushed my left breast up to my mouth with its protruding tongue. Gently I nibbled on my own nipples, never taking my eyes off Sandy’s own perfect form.

Then, in perfect cadence with her prone body, I stroked myself with my right hand until I felt a shudder begin, the way steam predicts the eruption of molten lava. Quickly, I pushed three fingers deep inside. Almost instantly, I experienced a wave of rapture as muscles contracted.

I had been seduced from afar, and I loved it!

And now she was here. I had never before seen her with a companion, male or female. Her escort tonight was elusive and mysterious. Angelina did not introduce him, and he said not a word. Had not an occasional flash of lightning outside flickered a scant illumination across the room, I would not even have remembered he was in the house!

“Angela, come sit down with us.”

Sandy’s sensual voice came from the sofa. I moved towards the sofa, and as I did so, wondered to myself how she had known the sofa was there. To the best of my knowledge, this tuzla escort bayan was the first time she had been here.

As if she could read my mind, she offered, “Cassandra and I used to sit here and talk. But she is in the sea now. Her presence, though, is still in this house. She and I had gotten very close. We even did a business deal right here.” She patted the cushion. Lucky cushion.

Cassandra was Jorge’s boss’s deceased wife.

As I stumbled in the dark, I found my way to the sofa and gently lowered myself, sitting gingerly in the middle of the upholstered cushions. From my left I heard Sandy giggle. She bubbled with excitement. “This storm has my heart pounding with a thrill.”

I turned towards the voice. It didn’t appear to have a well-defined point of origin; rather, it floated and bobbed on the turbulent night air.

I could hear the man on my right breathing, but still he offered no conversation. Instead, I felt his hand gently take mine and move it to his lap. He may have been quiet, but he certainly was not shy. In the darkness, it was impossible to see his face, or any other part for that matter. But the he was throbbing and pulsating, nearly in rhythm with the waves breaking outside my door.

Almost simultaneously, Sandy took my left had and guided it toward her inner thighs. She was as wet as the ocean, and seemed just as energized. She issued a moan in perfect resonance with the wind rushing through the cottage.

I felt strangely eager. With my right hand I stroked the enthusiastic gentleman. With my left, I manipulated Sandy’s moist labia and discovered a jutting clitoris responding to my exploring touch. For the second time in as many days, I was busy with both hands, and more aroused than I could have ever thought possible.

Gently, Sandy guided my head onto her chest. Her perfect breasts were covered only with a thin cotton blouse. Sandy instantaneously opened the blouse, allowing me to stroke her provocative nipples with my appreciative tongue. I circled her nipples. They responded by projecting into my mouth. I took them between my teeth and gently bit.

Sandy made no sound, but firmly pushed my face to her lap, while she simultaneously situated herself in such a way as to make my kissing her pubic wisps inevitable. Gradually, I nibbled and licked around her inviting folds. As I began to concentrate on Sandy’s vibrating vulva, I released the male guest I’d been holding. I moved and concentrated wholly on Sandy. My tongue now tickled a clitoris that stood out at attention, similar to the projecting nipples.

With one hand, my fingers found Sandy’s still aroused nipples. I pinched them between my thumb and forefinger. With my other now free hand, I explored and caressed Angelina’s perfect ass. As I fondled Sandy a pair of hands found my own ample breasts and squeezed. The fingers roamed until they escort tuzla encircled my pink nipples, progressively stimulating them until they were standing out straight like little torpedoes.

The room was still chilly from the winds and sea mist, but I could feel nothing but warm. I knew that I was sweating, and I could feel my neck redden either from a heated desire or Sandy’s heated thighs, or both!

Never had I felt such an ecstasy. I had never had a woman before. I could feel a huge rush of energy, and I knew that something tremendous was about to explode.

I contracted and pulsed rhythmically, sending a wave of throbbing oscillations throughout my body. I felt that I was, at least for moment, one big genital. I could feel every thrill throughout my being.

My eager labia opened and closed, grabbing for what ever might be near. I became aware of my own swollen clitoris, aching to be petted.

Sandy moved her hands slowly down my body, pausing momentarily at my hips. Her hands moved my hips in a natural, rocking rhythm, keeping perfect time with the pulsing pussy and breaking waves. Her hands move on, gradually circling my ass in an ever-decreasing spiral. She just barely brushed my asshole, and then moved right on to my clit. The moment she touched my engorged pearl, she actually turned on a switch. Climax detonated inside of me like I had never experienced in my life. I screamed a shrill shriek, emanating from a center of ecstasy. On my right, I heard a low, moaning tone that resonated with the dirge outside. Sandy’s purr reverberated an enharmonic antithesis, and again the sound had no true point of origin. We were entwined, nearly entangled, the two of us in our own piece of Paradise.

Suddenly, she got so hot that I had to pull by mouth away from her steaming sticky pussy lips.

Then she laughed. An unforgettable laugh that permeated the environment.

The room shone with a luminescence as an extended sheet of lightning danced upon the waves the ocean.

“Jorge bet very heavily that you could not be coaxed into betraying him.” Sandy virtually glowed with pride. “He couldn’t have known my powers, though. Poor guy.”

I followed her dark eyes to my right and saw my husband’s lifeless, strangely twisted body. His disappointed cock was just beginning to lose its stiffness.

Sandy continued. “And now, Atlantis has its mortal sacrifice for this summer. I have a soul to offer to my almighty. And, for what it’s worth, your Jorge lived to see your dramatic fulfillment of the terms of our wager. He didn’t loose until your entire body surrendered to ecstasy….my ecstasy!”

She stood, her sensual being never losing its dominance. As she opened the cottage door, the sea subsided. The sea seemed to have experienced its all-encompassing climax. The sky, accepting the betrayal of its companion as inevitable, shrugged off its jealous rage and caressed the horizon again. Peace with its lover at all costs.

I was alone in the cottage with my Jorge’s contorted body.

All I knew for sure was that burial at sea was mandatory.

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