The Selkie

Finn felt it building, felt his balls tightening then he heard her grunting, a harsh, elemental gasp and her narrow thighs tightened and suddenly Finn felt a hot rush of liquid spill onto his already soaked groin, trailing liquid fire down the matted bush at the base of his thrusting prick and making him yell as lust, elemental and pure, sent a bolt through his throbbing prick and he erupted.

He closed his eyes and grimaced, his face a rictus of lust, almost painful, as his prick began to spurt and empty itself into the hot sucking cunt, its tip spurting as the thick head was squeezed and contracted by her own orgasmic release.

It was as if they were in a symphony of release ... the pounding of the surf matching the frantic hammering of his heart, the throbbing contractions of her tight wet cunt matching the thumping metronome of his spurting prick, the feel of her warm and cold, cool and hot against his naked skin ... even the sharp prick of the beach under his back adding to the overload of emotion and feeling he was experiencing.

Gasping, Finn emptied himself within the precious darling.

As the contractions lessened, as his prick spat its last small emissions into her cunt, Finn's eyes closed. Reaching, blindly, he pulled her to him, pulling the silken head into the warmth of his neck, mingling his gasping breath with hers, cuddling her close.

Distantly, he listened to the lulling surf, the sound which sang to him each night and each morning, his lullaby and reassurance. Her body was warm against his chest, her sweet, taut thighs tight against his hips. He felt contentment and a great lassitude roll over him, the whiskey, the long day on the sea and now this incredible, unlooked for treasure combining to create a black wave of exhaustion. His prick, content and still semi stiff nestled in the tight warmth of her cunt while the sweet nubs of her soft breasts flattened against his chest. He heard her breath, soft and sweet against his neck and without awareness, drifted off to sleep.

_________________________

"Do ya think he might be dead?"

"Nah – but there's a nice wee worm there we can feed to the gulls".

Voices, harsh and lilting, humour and laughter tinting their strong accented dialect wormed their way into Finn's consciousness.

Fighting his way into consciousness, Finn tried to open gummy eyes, then groaned to laughter which resonated and crashed into his head as sunlight speared painfully into his hung over orbs.

"JAYSUS."

Rolling, Finn felt his back stinging, grimacing as salt spray from the surf which was just feet away from his naked feet sent pain lancing through its myriad scratches.

Again, he tried to open his eyes, succeeding this time despite the pain to squint around. Dougal and Connor stood above him, grinning wickedly as they contemplated their naked, battered friend, supine upon the beach.

Consciousness flooded back suddenly, and sitting up abruptly, Finn looked around frantically.

"Where is she gone? Did ye frighten her off??"

"Who, you crazy man?"

"My little beauty, my little dark queen? WHERE is she?"

Standing, Finn shaded his aching eyes and looked around the small confines of the Bay, his prick sticky and aching, dangling.

No one was to be seen.

Ignoring the quizzical looks, Finn made his way to the far end of the beach, where he had first seen her. The encroaching tide had obliterated any signs that might have been there earlier, and Finn felt frantic as he contemplated the reality that he didn't even have a name.

Rushing back, he gathered up his scattered clothes, ignoring the ribald comments of his friends and mind working, made his way up the rocky path to his cottage.