Dave had been SCUBA diving since he was thirteen, but he'd never been in a decompression chamber. This one was cramped and- though it bored the eye with cleanliness- smelled like what metal would smell like if metal could mold. The clock on the wall said forty-two minutes until relative freedom.
Shannon sat knee-to-knee with him, wearing a pair of very short board shorts and what appeared to be the entire contents of a tube of liquid eyeliner. Her frame was lithe and delicate; not designed for the cold, dark, sterile environment she endured as part of her would-be career, but at the same time tough in a way Dave wasn't used to thinking of.
He shifted his legs to be polite.
Her pencil paused over the Cosmo quiz it was filling out. "Don't worry. There's no escaping it."
He wanted to ask why she was so keen on escaping it, but kept his mouth shut.
She turned a page, circled a C, flipped back, flipped forward again. Then she rolled her eyes. "Well, whaddya know."
"I am apparently more practical than romantic."
"Didn't realize the two were mutually exclusive."
She snorted and tossed the magazine aside. "So? Do I have to be the one to bring it up, or what?"
"Bring what up?" His whole world appeared to him framed in eyeliner.
"You think I'm fucking nuts, don't you?"
"Of course not. Why would I be here if I thought you were?"
"But I mean, now that you've heard it... It's just like any other sound. I mean, it must not sound like anything to a reporter. And here we are, our first month on this project, calling you out here... crying wolf... I bet that's what you're thinking."
"I wasn't thinking that at all."
"Then tell me what you were thinking."
Dave was thinking about the startling stripe of pinkish-white thigh just beneath the cuff of her shorts, and he let a couple blinks go by before deflecting the question. "You're right. I've heard all kinds of crazy shit. But I gotta tell you, what I heard down there just about took the cheesecake."
She leaned forward. There was vitality in her eyes, he realized, not just in her eye makeup. He stared back, probing the mind that was concealed between those pixie ears; behind that pale, smooth, mermaid-esque skin... "What do you think it could be?" she asked.
"You would know better than I would... Dr. Tuttle tells me he thinks it's something alive."
Shannon and her thesis advisor Dr. Tuttle had by no means been first to contact Dave's publication about the "bloop", an unidentified sound originating from deep in a Pacific trench. But they had been first to provide a means of investigation. Dr. Tuttle was a professor of bioacoustics who primarily researched whales' echolocation. He and Shannon had heard the bloop firsthand after the U.S. military called on them to arrange an exploratory expedition. The military was notoriously allergic to reporters, but Dave was not a reporter in any sense they would have cared about. His story about the bloop would run on page four between a Chex Mix Virgin Mary and a body-building ferret. So Dr. Tuttle had managed to score him a press pass; and Dave had spent forty-eight hours in a tin can where no ray of sunlight could ever penetrate, listening to a surreal and extremely frightening bloop. Now Shannon was escorting him back to the aircraft carrier that waited at top-secret coordinates on the surface of the Pacific Ocean.
"It's definitely alive," Shannon confirmed. She turned her head as if to look out a window. Dave mused to himself that she ought to have broken that habit long ago. As if she could hear his thoughts, she snapped her head back abruptly. She was one of those people who made no bones about soliciting direct eye contact even when she had nothing to say.
"Don't worry." He reached out to pat her knee and then stopped himself.
She caught his hand in midair and held it, her gaze never leaving his. "I just hope to God it's not dangerous."
Her hand was small and cold. Automatically, Dave rubbed it. He lowered it so that it was between them, but she clung to his fingers and drew them back, past her knee to a spot about halfway up her femur. He had to lean forward in order to comply. After two days without masturbation, Dave was certain he could smell her pussy from here.
"Oh, I don't know about dangerous," he said. "It hasn't done anything yet."
"Do you read Lovecraft?"
"Beg your pardon?"
"H.P. Lovecraft. I would think you'd have at least heard of him, in your line of work."
Dave had in fact read two collections of Lovecraft short stories; but the smell of pussy and the feeling of leg nearly overpowered his concentration. "Oh... yeah, of course. Thought you were talking about something else there for a minute."
"Well, in one of his stories he mentions Chthulu lives under the ocean at almost these exact coordinates. Isn't that weird?"
Dave took a deep breath and focused. "Lovecraft was never out this way. It was probably just a coincidence."
"He thought he could see through a portal to another dimension."
"I don't think he really did. From what I've heard, it was kind of a marketing gimmick."
She dropped his hand and leaned back suddenly. Dave leaned back too, knowing that to keep his body inclined toward hers would be outstaying his welcome. "You must get nutters calling you up about that kind of thing all the time," she continued apologetically. "But..."
"I'm just scared. It gets to you, you know? At the bottom of the ocean, you start thinking crazy thoughts and no one's there to reassure you."
He failed to suppress a wry smile. "You are definitely more romantic than practical."
"No, I think you were right- it's a dumb comparison anyway. Hey, you don't mind if I tell you something personal, do you?"
Dave shook his head.
"It's been forever since I was... you know... with a guy. My research totally keeps me from having a life. So if I did come face to face with a humongous vengeful squid-priest..."
Dave's breathing got shallower. He hoped the hum of equipment around them masked the change. "Is that what scares you most? Dying without... uh... getting laid one last time?"
"It's up there on the list."
Deciding this was not the kind of thing you'd say to someone to whom you didn't feel the least bit attracted, Dave summoned his courage and answered, "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help out."
"Actually..." Her arms crossed, and her hands closed around bunches of fabric. Dave's brain left his head and went for a quick flight around the chamber. When it came back, she had already lifted her shirt off over her head. She was not wearing a bra. The sight of her tits sent a shudder through him. They were bigger than he'd thought, particularly compared to her compact waistline; and perfectly formed, right down to the tiny nipples, two dark dots organizing an expanse of otherwise-featureless flesh into globes. He couldn't help but think that they must have been made of something other than what they were, or that somehow they had been air-brushed. Usually pale women had blemishes, freckles, scars. Shannon was completely unmarked. She stared at him, the quadrangle of her eyes and her nipples threatening to overload his field of vision as his own eyes darted hungrily from one sight to another, searching for a place to settle. "Actually, there is."
Still gripping her shirt in her left hand, she reached up with her right and lightly squeezed the underside of the opposite breast. "I'm not freaking you out, am I?"
He decided not to dignify that with an answer.
"Because if you don't want to, I mean if you've got a girlfriend at home or something-"
"Actually, it's uh... It's been awhile for me too." As if on cue his penis swelled, pressing against his smooth cotton boxers as they did their damnedest to protect him from the teeth of his zipper.
Shannon squeezed her breast hard and rubbed little circles with her thumb, not quite reaching the areola. "Are you getting excited? Do you like watching me play with my tits?" she asked, eyes never leaving his.
Dave exhaled through clenched teeth and shifted in his seat. His knees knocked against hers. The desire to jump her nearly overcame him; yet at the same time he felt he could watch her like this forever, just watch as she massaged those perfect globes.
"I love playing with my tits. A lot of chicks with big tits aren't very sensitive, but I am." She broke eye contact to look down. The sight of her own fingers kneading her skin seemed to increase her eagerness. She dropped her shirt, shifted her right hand to her right breast, and brought her left hand up to her left. Her back spasmed, her stomach drew in, her chest jutted forward. She pushed her breasts into one another, let them out, pushed them in again.
Dave's cock strained to be released. He moved to oblige, but she flung out one arm to stop him; her opposite hand still digging into the flesh he wanted so badly to lick, to feel against his tongue while her moan floated to his ears from somewhere above him.
"Don't unzip yet. I want you to feel how I feel. I want you to want it bad."
"I do want it," Dave insisted.
Her fingers tightened around his. There wasn't even an inch of space between them and his cock. He raised his hips, reflexively, not intending to cheat. She withdrew and leaned back, spreading her legs wide. Now she wasn't touching Dave at all, which was difficult to achieve in such a tiny space; but she looked more inviting than ever, sprawled in her seat with what he knew must be a sopping wet pussy beneath the thin nylon of her shorts.
"You're so hard," she said, eyes riveted to his crotch, hands frozen on her tits in mid-squeeze. "I love this part, right before the guy whips it out... And you can see how hard he is, how bad he wants it..." Keeping her left hand stationary, she moved her right hand to her mouth. The index finger and thumb disappeared between her lips. He tried to catch a good glimpse of her tongue, and was finally rewarded as she opened her mouth to draw her fingers out, warm and slippery. She gave them a French kiss god-bye; flicking her tongue out and back in again, then closing her lips around the first knuckle, sliding slowly back...
"Mmm, yeah," Dave whispered.
She brought her wet fingers down to her right nipple and held them there for a moment, rubbing them together. Dave wanted to lunge forward, knock her hand aside, run his tongue around and around that tiny stiff nipple, wanted to suck it until she came. But he cooperated, watched without touching himself as she brought her fingers down on either side of her nipple and pinched lightly. A tremor ran through her that Dave shared. He prayed he wouldn't rub himself to relief against the crotch of his pants before she allowed him to open his fly.
She rubbed in little circles and pinched intermittently, spreading saliva around the circumference of her nipple; rocking back and forth, hips pushing forward so that her clit touched the inside of her shorts, then rolling backward so the seat pushed against her labia. "Mmm, it's been so long... I could come just doing this... do you want to see that? Do you want to see me get off playing with my tits?"
"I want to get you off," Dave insisted hoarsely.
"But it's so good." She rubbed harder, like she was jacking a tiny penis, all the while squeezing hard with the other hand. "It feels so... oh... I'm gonna..."
He watched helplessly as she rocked faster, visions of swollen clit and wet pussy flashing in his head. She came in her shorts, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted to let a ragged gasp pass through, hands clenching and unclenching wildly.
"Goddamnit!" Dave opened his fly, and his cock sprung out through the slit in his boxers. The head of it was redder than he'd ever seen, and there was already pre-come smeared down the front, almost to his ball sack. He jacked himself hard, assuming she wouldn't be in the mood anymore.
To his astonishment, she crouched between his legs and knocked his hand aside a second time. When her fingers finally closed around his shaft he felt like he was about to shoot out through the roof of the chamber. The hair on his knees brushed the outside of her tits. He squeezed his legs together. The valley in the center of her chest grew narrower. She stared up into his eyes, and he stared down at all of her; slender fingers wrapped around his penis, breasts pushed together between his legs, nipples erect, the right one still wet and shiny... "Let me," she whispered.
The first thing she did was lick his left ball. He would never have dreamed he could appreciate such a tease at this point, but he almost came in her hand. He forced himself to calm down, to wait for her mouth to close around his cock. Her tongue traveled slowly over until it was centered between his balls, then upward, licking so slowly that every swollen vein seemed a hurdle for her, pre-come slowly disappearing, being replaced by her saliva.
Just beneath the crown she paused and flicked her tongue in and out once. He gasped.
"You have an amazing cock," she whispered, and kissed the same spot she had just licked.
"Please put it in your mouth... Please..."
She continued in a pattern around the base of the crown, licking and then kissing, licking and then kissing.
"Oh God... I can't make it much longer..."
His cock disappeared between her lips, and he cried out. Almost immediately he felt the rush, the savage pulsing, the involuntary tightening of every muscle in his body... "I'm gonna come," he heard himself warn her; but he was already there, already shooting a full load into her mouth and down her throat as her head bobbed up and down on his dick.
She didn't sit back when she had finished sucking him off, just laid her head down in his lap. The clock on the wall said twenty-three minutes. Dave was exhausted, but he couldn't go the rest of his life wondering what her pussy looked like. He nudged her arm. "Still scared?"
She lifted her head and smiled. "It's a constant fear. It's not something I can just get rid of."
"Oh? Mind if I give it a shot?" He eased himself down onto the floor next to her.
"By all means."
Dave pulled the drawstring on her board shorts. She took over, loosening the waistline so he could see her blue cotton panties, lying back and raising her hips so she could slide them down around her ankles.
He lifted one of her legs at a time and pulled her shorts all the way off, stroking each calf with his thumb. Free now of almost every article of clothing, she pulled her legs outward and backward, exposing the soaked crotch of her panties. Dave set her shorts aside and pressed his lips to the inside of her left leg, just above the knee, and continued kissing up toward the shadowy groove of her inner thigh. When he arrived there, he used his tongue, ran it over her salty skin while her hips rose and fell underneath. He could smell her juices every time he inhaled. He ran his hands over her, feeling her outer thighs, her ass.
Slowly, she reached down and pulled the panties over to one side. Her pussy was completely shaven. The mons was just as pale as the rest of her; the lips and clit dark red, almost purple. She was slick all the way out to where the edge of her underpants had been. This close to her, even the air on his face felt moist. He ran his tongue across her silky flesh, drawing slowly closer. She moaned. He stopped just short of her slit and made circles on her inner thigh with his tongue. She moaned louder and raised her hips off the floor, her ass trembling in his hands.
"Please fuck me with your tongue," she whispered. "Please."
He slipped the tip of his tongue inside her, then withdrew and followed the trail of her right lip until he was almost to her clit, and came back down on the left; causing her to squeeze reflexively and gush yet another wave of pussy juice.
"Fuck me with it," she gasped.
He did as he was told this time- thrust his tongue into her and withdrew, thrust and withdrew. She grabbed his head and ground her pussy into his face. "Oh yeah, that's right," she screamed. "Oh God, just like that... Oh God yes..." Her legs came up and wrapped around his back, squeezing him toward her still harder. He was fully aroused again now. As his tongue followed her bucking crotch back and forth, he reached down and rubbed his dick to the same rhythm, imagining what her steaming what hole would feel like tight around his shaft.
"You wanna be inside me?" she gasped.
"Mmm," he moaned, lips vibrating against the skin on either side of her hole.
"You wanna put your cock in me?"
She mashed her pelvis one last time hard against his mouth, then released her legs and pulled him up so his face was level with hers. Without missing a beat she grabbed his cock and pushed it inside her to the hilt. Her hot, drenched muscles tightened around it. He kissed her with fervor, plunging his tongue deep into her mouth, letting her taste herself.
"Mmm, yeah," she moaned around his tongue; ass tight, hips moving up and down. "That's right, fuck me..."
Repeatedly he pulled out until just the crown was inside her and slammed back in to the base, pumping as fast as he could, listening to her voice and the slapping sound of his skin on hers. She squeezed his arms with her nails as he went in, released as he retreated. When he stopped kissing her and propped himself up to take her in, her tits bounced savagely inches from his face. "God, I love your tits," he breathed.
She didn't answer. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her lips parted slightly. She looked as if she might come again at any second.
"May I suck your nipples?"
He took one in his mouth and sucked. It was like a bullet made of flesh between his lips. The pillow of her breast pushed back against his face. She reached down to stroke her own clit as he rode her.
"I want to come between your tits," he gasped, directing his breath in hot waves around her nipple.
"Are you gonna...?"
She contracted around his shaft as the first wave of an orgasm passed over her. He squeezed her hips and pulled back to watch her rack jiggle while she came. "Can I fuck you between your tits? Oh God, please, can I fuck you between your tits?"
She rode out what remained of her orgasm, massaging his cock with her contractions. Then she opened her eyes and slid down to accommodate him.
He straddled her chest and lowered his hips until his dick was directly over her sternum. She pushed her warm and heaving tits together, enveloping him. He watched her face as he moved back and forth, smearing liquid all over the center of her chest.
"God, you have an awesome cock," she gasped. "I love watching your cock between my tits."
Pre-come mingled with sweat, and the tight pocket she had created for him between her breasts felt almost like a pussy. She pushed them in and around, in and around, running her tongue over her lips, waiting... "That's right baby... mmm... let me see you come on my tits..."
Dave began to shake with the force of his impending orgasm.
"Yeah!" she screamed. "Oh fuck yeah, I wanna see you come on my tits..."
His first jet of come hit the base of her throat. He pulled back quickly and jacked himself through the rest of his orgasm. What remained of the thick white jism that shot several inches from the head of his throbbing cock coated her hands and upper tits down to the nipples.
"Oh, fuck yeah," she screamed, tossing her head and smearing his seed on her skin as jet after jet splattered on her.
Presently the trajectory shortened and the volume diminished. Shannon threw up her hands in a gesture of finality, smiled, and inhaled deeply.
Exhausted, Dave tucked his legs and tried to sit back, only to land heavily on her right leg. "Oh fuck, I'm sorry," he gasped, and used the last of his strength to ease himself up onto the bench. "God, you really took it out of me."