Literotica Post: "Another Home Invasion"

  A friend asked me to do a continuation from my other story "Home Invasion" but this is probably the only one I'm gonna do. I don't have any other ideas for it.

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The moon was on it’s waning cycle, it’s silver beams chasing the shadows of night away. But it was so hot. The air conditioner was broken. Marcella couldn’t bear to even wear her bra and panties. Her caramel skin burned from too much sun. She carefully rubbed aloe lotion into the red areas of her shoulders and chest. 

She had been distracted all morning. Her sugar daddy had noticed and asked what was wrong but all Marcella would say was that she tossed and turned in her sleep the past few nights. In truth it was because she was horny for that intruder who attempted to rob her. Her sugar daddy kept asking about why the alarm went off the other night. 

Marcella’s dark brown eyes became dark with seduction and passion as she licked her sugar daddy’s thick neck and whispered in a smoky voice, “I told you it was just some raccoon. I forgot to close the glass door because I was so hot…” She nibbled on his ear lobe and stroked his blossoming erection through his cotton khakis as her words carried some double meaning. 

“I should really get that air conditioner fixed,” her sugar daddy shuddered with joy at his mistress’s touch. His mind was already flooding with the naughty things that she was going to do to him. 

“There’s no rush,” Marcella said as she descended his body leaving sizzling kisses in her wake until she got to the place he wanted her to go to desperately. 

Marcella satisfied her sugar daddy 5 times that day. She imagined he was her masked intruder. He said he’d come back next week for his next “business” trip to keep his wife off his trail. Marcella smiled as she kept her doors unlocked, the glass door slightly open and opened a few windows to let in the cool summer breeze.

Marcella couldn’t stop thinking about the stranger that broke into her house the other night. It had been 2 days since his first visit. Marcella was starting to think he wouldn’t come back making her sigh heavily as she sat her plump round ass on her comfortable yet expensive mattress. But just in case she had been leaving the alarm off and doors unlocked.

Marcella yawned, stretching then wincing a little at the pain from her burnt skin. She lay on the cool linen sheets, her black hair loose, draped over the white pillows like a curtain of midnight. She lay on her back feeling the summer breeze from her balcony window kiss her aching skin. Her nipples balled into caramel kisses, goosebumps blooming on her areolae. 

Marcella listened to the ocean waves crashing on the beach in the distance and the crickets chirp. She teetered on the edge of sleep, rolling over onto her stomach to let the wind ease the burn of her shoulders. That’s when she felt them…

Marcella felt a stranger’s hands run down her back trailing down her spine, traveling the slope of her lower back to caress her butt cheeks. She stirred slightly as the tingling sensation from being touched rippled through her body giving her goosebumps. She thought she was already asleep and dreaming.

A hum of satisfaction slipped through her lips.

“You came back…,” Marcella groaned in delight as she felt the masculine fingers touch her private flesh. Then she felt a pair of familiar lips nuzzle the nape of her neck. No way this was a dream. It felt too real.

“You invited me,” the familiar voice huskily replied. 


********

A few minutes earlier...

Dyson waited outside Marcella’s house the whole day. His balls tightened as he remembered her scrumptious lips wrapped around his cock, her tongue tracing along his length. Then her satin heat entrapping him as he pummeled her on that table. He could still taste her cherry cinnamon lips and feel her wetness on his fingers.

“You’re going back?” Rogan cried. “You want to go back to prison?!”

“Relax,” Dyson winked his Caribbean green eye at his partner. “I won’t get caught.”

“You never told me what happened in there,” Rogan eyed his partner suspiciously. 

“Something you don’t need to worry about,” Dyson said with a bit of warning in his voice. He had waited to go back partly out of cautiousness partly to make Marcella thirsty for him.

Dyson watched from a distance watching Marcella swimming, chatting on the phone with some girlfriends and then entertaining her sugar daddy lover. His eyes darkened as his blood seethed with jealous rage. He knew how she got that house but to actually see her work for it made his eyes a darker shade of greed.

Dyson thought about following that old bastard and beating him bloody but that was a sure fire way to place him back in prison. Instead he planned to fuck Marcella extra hard. The waning moon was high and the whole neighborhood was asleep. 

Dyson carefully slipped into the yard and wandered around the house only to find the sliding glass door open. That bad girl, Dyson smiled as he crept into the house putting on his black mask that covered his whole face leaving eyes and mouth open of course. 

He silently crept upstairs, his muscles tensing after every other creak. His heart pounded with the thrill of it all. He had studied the house and knew exactly where Marcella’s room was. He found her bedroom door and it was slightly open. He gently pushed it to see if Marcella was in bed yet. 

The moon light illuminated part of her bedroom, touching her bed. Marcella lay on her back, her breasts exposed while her sheets covered her lower half. Dyson’s eyes settled on her breasts, so perfect, round and full. He licked his lips as he saw her nipples were hard little nubs.

His cock throbbed as he watched the slow rise and fall of her chest, her long black hair fanned over the pillow. She rolled over in a groan, the sheets coming down to reveal that perfect ass of hers glowing in the silver light like a ripe fruit.

Dyson quietly slipped through the open door, careful not to make a sound. Then he touched her. Her skin was as soft as he remembered. His hands slid around her back in a hungry hello and Marcella stirred, a soft hum of satisfaction escaping her lips.

“You came back…,” she groaned. 

There was no hiding the musk of her arousal as he whiffed a spicy aroma coming off of her. Her body was hot and slick with summer heat. Dyson nuzzled his lips against the soft fragrant nape of her neck as he touched her private flesh groaning in pleasure to see that she was damp already. 

“You invited me,” he said as he ripped off her sheets to expose her caramel skin then began rubbing her wet heat harder feeling her rosebud perk up at his attentions.

“Oh yeah keep doing that,” Marcella moaned spreading her legs. Her heart raced with the thrill of the moment.

Dyson balled a fist in Marcella’s silken dark hair, pulling her by her roots making her sharply inhale. 

“Don’t talk,” Dyson whispered huskily into her ear giving Marcella exciting shivers. 

Dyson ran his fingers along her slit, rubbing her, teasing her a little making her wet with lust. He dipped his fingers into Marcella’s hot wetness making her groan with joy. 

Her muscles locked around Dyson’s fingers. He laughed whispering, “Still a nasty bad girl.”

“Such a nasty bad girl…,” Marcella pleaded. Her body was alive with expectation. To know those big strong hands were touching her was beyond erotic. Marcella thought she would come just from his touch.

 Dyson buried his masked face into Marcella’s dark hair, inhaling her expensive shampoo and conditioner. He kissed then bit into her copper shoulder smelling her perfume and tasting the salt of her sweat making him ache and pulsate with lust.

Marcella winced in pain and Dyson could see that the skin on her shoulders were slightly burnt. He didn’t want to hurt her (unless she begged him to). He became a bit more gentle when he kissed and licked her shoulders. The scent of aloe mixed with her other scents creating a unique perfume that made Dyson so horny he thought he would burst if he didn’t fuck her now. But he was patient.

“Don’t move,” Dyson ordered as he released her hair. Marcella obeyed keeping her face away from her intruder’s face. Her heart raced with the thrill of the moment. Dyson wandered to behind her seeing her perfect shaven pussy glistening in the moonlight like a ripe peach. 

“You’ve been a bad girl,” he said as he bit into her juicy ass then slapped it hard. Marcella cried out then groaned. “I’ve been watching you all day with that wrinkly bastard. Did you enjoy fucking him?” Dyson licked Marcella’s hot slit tasting her peppery juices, his tongue flicking her throbbing clit. 

Marcella bit her lower lip to stifle a hungry moan but she smiled nevertheless at his jealousy.

“Maybe a little…,” Marcella shrugged and Dyson pinched her budding clit making her squeal in pleasure. Dyson lifted her hips, pulling her pussy into his face so he could bury his tongue in between her juicy shaven folds.

“I’m going to punish you then,” Dyson sounded feral, brutish in his heat. “Turn over.”

Marcella did as she was told. Her skin stung from the rough play but it only added to her arousal. She wanted him to fuck her hard like he did before. Her intruder wedged himself between Marcella’s legs that she readily opened to receive him.

She began rubbing her throbbing clit slowly as she watched Dyson unbuckle his pants and pull out his swollen thick staff of lust she could see the veins on it pulsing. Marcella was trembling with arousal. Her sexy chocolate eyes lazy with desire.

Dyson began rubbing his cock as he watched her then he grabbed her wrists and pinned her to the bed. His shaft teased her entrance, rubbing without entering. Marcella groaned with impatience as she rubbed herself against his throbbing hard flesh. Dyson made a smug sound of male pleasure as he watched Marcella whimper with desperation. 

“Please…,” Marcella begged. “Please fuck me.”

“I want you nice and wet,” Dyson growled as he bent over and sucked her hard nipple into his greedy mouth, flicking his rough tongue against the diamond nub. A small quake of delight flashed through Marcella. She groaned in pleasurable pain when Dyson rolled the nipple between his teeth.

“Oh fuck…,” Marcella gasped.

Marcella came gushing coating Dyson’s cock in her love nectar as her muscles spasmed. A flash of heat gripped her followed by a sense of euphoria and she felt like she was floating. She writhed beneath his grip as Dyson made a wholly sensual sound, a low rumble of pleasure watching her in ecstasy.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Dyson whispered hoarse with desire.

Dyson pushed himself into the heated core of Marcella’s body. The silky heat between her thighs captured him. Her legs wrapped around his waist trapping him inside her. Dyson couldn’t think of a better prison. He was slow at first, torturing her panting ecstatic body with more pleasure. Then he placed his hand around Marcella’s throat. He didn’t squeeze… not yet. 

His mask began to itch from the summer heat but he wanted to keep it on for their game. At least it was made from thinner material so his skin could still breathe.

He watched as her breasts thrust invitingly towards his mouth. His thickness seemed to stretch and devour her. Marcella kept her hands away from Dyson instead gripping the sheets as he began thrusting inside her, the tendons on is neck standing out with each thrust. 

The bed creaked as he pressed harder into her, deeper, filling her up with his maleness. Dyson watched as Marcella’s breasts bounced with each savage thrust. Marcella’s whimpers grew louder into moans.

“Oh god yes…,” Marcella gasped as waves of heat pulsed through her body as the tension coiled in her abdomen building towards her climax. “Fuck me hard!” She began to meet him thrust for thrust.

Dyson lightly squeezed Marcella’s neck, eyes locked letting him know if he should tighten his grip or loosen. 

“God you’re so tight,” Dyson grunted. “So hot and tight.”

Marcella smiled in ecstasy, tightening her legs around Dyson’s waist to plunge him deeper into her heat. She could feel him penetrating her womb as they shared a body. Her body began to glisten with perspiration from the lust and the heat of the night. Dyson moved hard and fast, jack hammering toward a desperate climax. 

Marcella was half way to heaven as she sensed Dyson was ready to come. In a bold act she squeezed his scrotum. His balls were smooth and tight then he burst in bone-deep growl, his body shuddering as Marcella felt his hot seed pour into her womb. 

Dyson fell on top of Marcella in a voracious growl. Marcella and Dyson lay there in mutual satisfaction, entangled in flesh, the linen sheets soaked in their sweat. Marcella licked the salt of Dyson’s sweat from his neck then nibbled his ear lobe.

Her intruder nuzzled his nose into her hair, licking her face tasting the delicious sweat and her caramel skin as he softened inside her. Their bodies a firebrand on each other. Dyson felt Marcella reach under his shirt to feel the contours of his hard muscles. She clawed at his back sending tiny trills along his spine.

Dyson pulled out as he rolled over onto his side. They kissed passionately, their tongues languid and lazy rubbing each other in a wet slide as Dyson’s hand traveled to the apex of Marcella’s thighs. Marcella looked into Dyson’s Caribbean green eyes so full of lust that matched the intensity of her own as he inserted his finger into her scalding wetness. 

She groaned, her body still so sensitive from before. Her veins pulsed with electricity as he played with her molten core. Marcella moved her hand under her intruder’s shirt feeling his firm marbled muscles. She dug her nails into his chest as new waves of sensuous sensations flooded her body. 

Dyson raked his fingers through Marcella’s damp black hair as his other fingers stretched her walls and pumped inside her. Her mouth opened in a silent scream with the occasional whimper and groan. 

“You’re my bitch,” he whispered harshly into her ear. “Say it.”

“I’m your bitch. I’m your bitch! Don’t stop please!” she breathed as her body began to wriggle and writhe in ecstasy. Dyson’s thumb played with her love button as he watched Marcella’s face contort into euphoria. He was mesmerized. Her chocolate eyes rolled in the back of her head, her breasts thrust towards the ceiling and he couldn’t help but taste those tiny morsels again. He sucked on her nipple hard making her dig her fingers into his flesh.

“So hot and wet,” Dyson whispered in pleasure. “Fuck… you’re scalding hot it’s so good.” 

Dyson stifled Marcella’s cries of passion with a tongue thrusting kiss. Her body grew rigid then relaxed. Marcella’s curvy body was filled with erotic satisfaction. Her skin stung, prickling with the sun burn but the endorphins flooding her body mixed and eased the lovely pain. 

Dyson’s fingers were coated in Marcella’s juices. He slipped them out then sucked on them closing his eyes in delight. Marcella took his cum soaked fingers and popped them into her mouth. 

“I like the way my bitch tastes,” Dyson growled. Marcella looked up at him with naughty dark eyes making him grow semi-hard again. He wanted to fuck her again but he would be tempted to take the mask off and ruin the game. 

Dyson pinned Marcella down then ordered, “Turn over and don’t look.”

Marcella smiled, slowly turning over perhaps expecting him to fuck her again but instead he whispered in her ear, “Next time wear something slutty for me.”

She quivered, licking her lips that were still wet with her sweet cum. Dyson gave her ass a good squeeze and kissed it. Then he slapped it and crept silently away. Marcella thought she’d be too excited to sleep, her body was vibrating from her orgasms and the thrill of the event but she drifted off into a sex induced coma and didn’t wake until the summer sun rudely shone in her face.


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Literotica: A Selkie Calls

    If you would like to read more of my work visit Literotica.com. My handle is ErosinaScarlett. 

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Lyra watched the dark waves rolling and crashing onto the gray shore as she sat on the dock with her sketch pad. The salty spray in her face and hair as the wind combed out her tangles. Her cheeks reddened from wind burn, the only color in her ivory skin. She sketched an ocean scene in her sketch pad as she listened to the harsh song of the ocean roaring in her ears. 

She popped in an ear bud and turned on her red iPod. She hit play and “The Call” by Ruu Campbell started playing. The rough sounds of the ocean and wind added ambience to the soft introspective sound of Ruu Campbell.

Lyra kept imagining what magical things must be happening beneath the dark waves. Her eyes like two pairs of spring green pools with a copper ring around her black pupil searched the foamy waves and watched them smash against the rock. Then she looked up, staring out at the horizon to a small island where her uncle told her the Kerr family used to live. 

It was a jewel of green on a sea of gray. “Our cows always gave milk and our nets were always full when the Kerrs lived on Fair Muckle Rónán. Seals would make their home there,” he would say. 

Then she watched as two seals rested on the other seaweed covered stones. It was mid-September so it was mating season. Most liked to collect on the small seaweed covered rocks off shore and these two were the closest. They were watching her with their attentive dark eyes and Lyra could almost swear there was a human quality about the way they stared. One of them barked as if calling out to her. 

“Lyra!”

No. Go away. Leave me alone. Lyra turned her green eyes back towards the stormy autumn sea trying to ignore the person calling her. 

“Lyra Darrow!”

Lyra rolled her eyes. The seals that were watching her climbed off the rocks as well and jumped into the restless currents where as a girl Lyra imagined them living in huts made of kelp and sand and decorated with pretty sea shells just like her Scottish grandmother told her as she grew up in the United States.

“Lyra!”

“Jesus, Aunt Gillie,” Lyra sighed heavily. “Where’s the fire?”

“You just disappeared this mornin’ I didn’t know where you’d gone!” Aunt Gillie’s Scottish accent was sometimes heavy especially when she was upset. She placed her hands on her hips as she bent at the hips looking at her errant niece with disapproval. Aunt Gillie married into the Kerr family but had the same green, brown eyes that Lyra inherited from her Scottish Darrow father but her eyes were wiser, holding more secret knowledge of the Shetland Isles that often mesmerized Lyra whenever she came to visit.

“I wanted to be alone,” Lyra sighed and held up her sketch book. “Figured I’d finish some sketches for that Kids’ book.”

Lyra was an illustrative artist. Recently she had been contracted to sketch cartoons for a book about Scottish folktales. Since she was Scottish Lyra thought it would be perfect but she’d been hitting a stone wall trying to come up with images of Selkies. She didn’t understand the problem. She was a great artist and came up with great work before but right now she was stalled. 

Aunt Gillie took a look at her niece’s sketch book. She raised an eyebrow to see that Lyra sketched just the ocean floor and a few fish. 

“You should ha’ told me where you went at least,” Aunt Gillie’s accent became heavy when she was peeved, her cheeks puffed up making her look like a puffer fish. “What if you were taken?”

Lyra rolled her eyes and scoffed, “Really, Aunt Gillie?” Because Aunt Gillie didn’t mean taken by human strangers but about fairies and even the selkies.

“Selkies don’t take humans, remember?” Lyra said remembering Grandmother’s folktales. “In fact it’s the other way around. Take their seal cap and they have to stay with you.”

“Lyra,” Aunt Gillie became softer. “You sure it’s not because of Peter?”

Lyra tensed. How could she speak that bastard’s name? Lyra’s mouth compressed into a hard line as her brow furrowed.

“I don’t want to talk about him,” Lyra said as she walked brusquely past her Aunt. Peter was soon to be her ex-husband. They were in a trial separation after 5 years of marriage. Never marry a man at 23. You think you know better but then you find the “love of your life” in bed with your neighbor who’s actually 12 years older than you both!

“Lyra,” Aunt Gillie ran after her niece. Despite being in her early 60s and a bit stocky Aunt Gillie was pretty fit. She raised 8 children (6 boys and 2 girls) so she had practice. 

“Can we just go home?” Lyra groaned. 

“Oh alright,” Aunt Gillie threw up her hands in surrender. “You’re yer father’s daughter a’right, God rest his soul. Stubborn in your dark moods.”

********

The Kerr house rested on the Shetland Isles. Perfectly nested on the shoreline with a perfect view of the sea. It had a crescent shaped beach with a cove that Lyra would often play in on her family visits in the summer growing up. She and her many cousins would play hide and seek and camp out on the beach. Most of her cousins had families of their own while the youngest ones were preparing for senior year at high school and going off to college.

Megan was the youngest heading into her Junior year. Iain had just left for university on the main land of Scotland. Megan sat doing her homework while her mother held onto her cell phone to keep her focused. Uncle Daniel was out fishing, one of the cornerstones of the Shetland Islands’ economy. He always came home with the best catch. He would say it was because his side of the family, the Kerrs were descended from a selkie woman.

Uncle Daniel was dark unlike most of his children. The other dark one was Thomas who had a family of his own up the coast. Lyra felt she was too old to believe in such fairytales but they were always nice to hear, especially now that she was going through a rough time. 

Lyra sat by the window listening to the wind chimes hanging on the roof, watching the seals play in the water and bask in the sun that managed to break some gray clouds once in a while as she flashed back to when she was 10 and Uncle Daniel first told her the story. He would sit by the fire, illuminated by the golden glow of the hearth. Shadows dancing upon the walls as Uncle Daniel rocked in his rocking chair, the creaks it would make added to the country ambience. 

Then his dark eyes would glaze over as if he were in a trance as he took a deep breath and told the cousins and grandchildren the Kerr family tale in his baritone Scottish voice that would soothe a baby to sleep even if he were speaking gibberish:

 “He was my father’s grandfather’s grandfather’s grandfather who first lived on Fair Muckle Rónán. Jamie Kerr his name was. Blond hair and eyes as blue as a clear summer sky. Jamie was the youngest of 5 brothers and wanted to strike out on his own so he made the island his home but was in need of a wife. One day when he was out fishing and pulling in his nets he felt that they were heavier than usual. He pulled and tugged with all his might until he saw what was making the nets so heavy. A big gray seal, sleek body thrashing with big dark eyes that held a deep soul.

“Jamie took pity on the creature and cut the poor thing loose. She was so happy she swam with joy around his fishing boat. But that was Jamie’s only net so he had to row home empty handed. Yet the seal followed him home, watching him with her curious, soulful eyes. Later that day, a miracle happened. A pile of fish was left on the shore outside Jamie’s hut. He looked out to see the same seal with a few others watching him.

“They were selkies, you see, and Fair Muckle Rónán was their home. A few weeks later, Jamie found the seal he saved resting on the shore of the island. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw it shed its skin to become a human woman but what struck Jamie most was that she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Long dark hair, olive skin, and dark soulful eyes as deep and mysterious as the sea. 

“As the selkie woman lay out on the shore bathing her human skin in the sun, Jamie crept quietly upon her and as the selkie woman slept, he took her seal skin. You see, when you take a selkie’s skin they’re under your power. When the selkie woman awoke she saw Jamie standing there with her seal skin in his hands. ‘What is your name?’ Jamie asked. The selkie woman’s Gaelic was harsh and old, ‘Moire.’ 

“Moire became Jamie’s wife and bore him many children. They were quite happy together but there was always a sadness about Moire. She would always stare out at the sea for long hours watching her selkie friends and family play. They would call to her sometimes and she would sing a mournful tune that was so sad it would bring tears to even the Devil’s eyes. A Selkie’s heart belongs to the sea. No chains of iron or love can keep them away from the call of the sea. And when Moire finally found her seal skin she returned to the sea.

“From then on the Kerr family lived on the island and life was good. Moire returned to the sea but she was always close by watching her children and then grandchildren grow and so forth.”

“Why did your family leave, Uncle Daniel?” Young Lyra had asked. 

Uncle Daniel heaved a heavy sigh, his eyes filled with sadness. 

“It was World War II,” Uncle Daniel sighed. “Young boys were boiling for a fight. Island life isn’t for everyone. Then there was an evacuation. Everyone was afraid back then that the Germans would fly over and bomb us like London. But we’ve kept close by to our home. The selkies probably live in our old cottages now.”

Lyra smiled as she remembered that time. So simple. Things always seemed simple when you were a child. Young Lyra’s green and brown eyes sparkled as she asked, “Will I ever meet a selkie?”

Uncle Daniel’s laughter boomed. He would rarely laugh but when he did it was a rumbling thunder that came from his gut and warmed the room. 

“You don’t want to be meeting a male selkie,” Uncle Daniel laughed. “They’ll love you and leave you and sometimes with child. And even if you take his skin, a selkie will always find it and return to the sea leaving you with tears and heart break.”

Young Lyra tilted her head at the thought. Then Uncle Daniel smiled and said, “The selkie males only come to lonely women dissatisfied with their husbands.”

“How do they know to find a lonely woman?” Young Lyra chirped. Her cousins were already lolling to sleep as their mother ushered them one by one into their beds.

“A woman can summon a male selkie by crying 7 tears into the sea,” Uncle Daniel rocked back and forth.

“That’s enough of your stories, Daniel,” Aunt Gillie said. “Time for bed, Lyra.”

“Lyra?”

Lyra blinked and she was back in the present. She felt warm inside thinking about the good times but then she looked to see her Aunt Gillie looking a little distressed holding the land line. 

“Lyra…,” Aunt Gillie held up the phone. Her face was pensive and her forest green eyes dark with worry. “It’s Peter.”

Lyra’s warmth deserted her, leaving a cold, icy hatred coiling in her gut. She got up and took the phone from her Aunt and went into the kitchen for some privacy.

********

Lyra lay in her bed staring at the ceiling. The silver crescent moon beams danced on her blankets as a cool salty ocean breeze blew into her room. Lyra was in the verge of tears ever since Peter’s phone call. He wanted a divorce. Of course Lyra saw it coming. What else would you expect after a trial separation but the romantic in her, the idiot part of her had hoped that Peter had called to apologize and want to try again.

She wished she could talk to her father about it. He would have gotten all Scottish and threatened to thrash him. The thought made Lyra smile as it also brought tears to her eyes. Her father died when she was 17. Lyra and her mother were never quite close after that. It were as if a part of her mother died along with her father. 

Lyra climbed out of bed and sat by the window. She watched the seals on the rocks. One of them was on shore watching her. Even from a long distance Lyra could feel its gaze. It made her feel strange and for a moment she thought about Uncle Daniel’s stories about male selkies. 

She shook her head to rid herself of the fantasies. Instead she decided to try sketching something to help spark inspiration for the kids’ book. She started drawing seals playing in the sea. Lyra laid in bed sketching by moonlight until her eye lids were too heavy and she finally drifted off to sleep. 

Lyra floated off into dreamland where she found herself lying naked on the beach in the glory of the sun and gentle breeze kissed her body. The foam of the waves tickled her toes as the soft sand cushioned her skin. Sand stuck to her sexy curves as she got comfortable. She felt entirely alone on this beach; on the whole island. She was the only person there. 

That’s when she heard a low humming sound. A masculine hum as soft as velvet. Then Lyra felt a pair of masculine hands touching her, running over her skin, exploring the contours of her body with such caress. Lyra felt her nipples harden into painful points once the mystery hands caressed her breasts. 

Lyra couldn’t help but let out a soft moan. A thumb traced her lips and she licked it before she could think about it. The hands ran down her sides, her stomach then her waist and then up her thighs that she let him part without protest. Her body became static with desire, pulsing with strange lust for this stranger that touched her so lovingly.

The hands ran a second slow sensual path on her body once more clouding her senses in a sexual haze. Then Lyra felt a thumb rubbing her puffy lips making her wet and hot with longing. She felt the thumb pressed her budding clitoris making her release a breathy moan. She bucked her hips wanting him to push a finger insider her slick canal.

This was only a dream after all. But it felt so real. Then Lyra opened her eyes to see a mysterious man hovering over her as he was wedged himself between her thighs. She couldn’t make out his face but he had wavy black hair that reached his chin. And his skin was wet as if he had just risen from the sea. Lyra could feel his manhood throbbing against her womanly center. She moved her hips, grinding against his pulsating cock and the faceless man ground her right back. 

Lyra gasped softly as waves of hot delightful sensations washed over her body like a hot shower. She ceased to be a living entity but a pulse of hot passion as she basked in the glow of their shared lust. But the dream didn’t last as the sun became harsher, it’s light brighter, blurring Lyra’s surroundings. She then woke up to find herself in her room and to hear a knocking at her door.

“Lyra,” it was Megan’s soft voice. “Ma says breakfast’s ready.”

“I’ll be out in a few minutes,” Lyra called. Lyra’s head had been resting on the window sill and her back ached a little from sleeping awkwardly. She was wet and achy between her legs. Quite the wet dream. But that was all it was…

********

Lyra walked to the docks to find Uncle Daniel and one of his Kerr nephews, Liam as she recalled. He was about 12 years old. They were tying knots and Liam was guessing which one Uncle Daniel tied. 

“Rolling hitch,” said Liam. 

Uncle Daniel untied the knot then proceeded to tie another. 

“Clove hitch,” said Liam.

“Good lad, but can you tie it?”

Uncle Daniel gave Liam the new rope and Liam attempted his own knots. Uncle Daniel turned to see her watching them.

“Lyra knows her knots pretty well,” he smiled. “Come here and show the boy how a real knot’s done.”

Lyra knew that Uncle Daniel knew about her divorce. Unlike Aunt Gillie who wanted to talk about everything Uncle Daniel was more of a pusher down of emotions. Lyra welcomed that. She didn’t want to talk about her soon to be prick of an ex husband. She sat down beside Liam who’s ears flushed pink and took out a rope.

The sun was shining and thick clouds passed lazily over head. The wind was like a whisper of a friend as they sat on the docks together tying knots.

As she was tying a Fisherman’s Eye knot, Lyra heard seals barking and one was rather close. A seal swam unafraid up to her, rolling on his back to show off its belly. Then it continued playing until Liam said, “Better watch it, lass, I think this one wants to take you as his mate.”

“Lucky me,” Lyra chuckled as she showed young Liam the knot she made. 

“How are you so good at that?” Liam mourned looking at his pitiful imitation.

“Uncle Daniel made us all practice,” Lyra said.

“You and Thomas didn’t need much teachin’,” Uncle Daniel said as he filled his thermos cup with hot coffee. Uncle Daniel liked his coffee black. “You two are natural born sailors. Torn between earth and water.”

Lyra showed Liam how to loop into a Granny Knot when the seal barked at her again. 

“You stayin’ long, Lyra?” Liam asked a bit hopeful.

“Probably,” Lyra sighed. “I would like to finish my illustrations here and maybe stick around for a vacation.”

“Is it because you’re gettin’ a divorce?”

Uncle Daniel smacked the young boy over the head. Liam cried out in pain and rubbed his sore head. His straw colored hair ruffled and his blue eyes showing regret as his cheeks flushed.

“That’s what Aunt Gillie told Granny!” Liam defended himself. 

“Yes,” She gulped back the bitter sorrow her green eyes could not hide. Lyra’s heart hurt as she said the word like someone was driving a thorn through it slowly. “Peter’s sending the papers over.”

“He’s a sod,” Liam said. “If I was married to you I’d never treat you badly.”

Lyra wrapped her arm around Liam and hugged him as his face turned pink, grateful to have someone to profess such devotion even if it was a 12 year old boy. Liam had displayed quite the crush on her ever since she arrived. His blue eyes would light up when she was around and his cheeks would get red whenever she smiled at him. He would often say that her eyes were bonnie: green and brown like the island in summer. 

“Already your new suitors are lining up, Lyra,” Uncle Daniel said. 

“A seal and a 12 year old,” Lyra smiled. “A real step up for me.” Lyra was joking but she felt a little warmer inside.  

“We’re gonna go out if you’d like to join us,” Liam said once Lyra released him. She tucked her dark hair behind her ear as the wind blew it into her face.

“I could use a day at sea,” Lyra smiled. 

The playful seal barked its approval looking at Lyra with deep soulful eyes as if it understood her pain. Lyra suddenly thought about her dream. No. That was just a dream. 

******** 

    Lyra sat at the end of the fishing boat as Uncle Daniel started the motor. Once they were out on the water close to Fair Muckle Rónán Lyra leaned over the side and stared at her reflection. She didn’t know why but the tears she held back for so long came. Her tears fell like rain from the depths of the pools of her green brown eyes. 

Lyra didn’t bother to count how many tears fell into the salty sea. 

“Lyra,” Uncle Daniel called. “Help me with these fishing lines.”

Lyra quickly wiped her eyes though they were still red and puffy. This time if Liam noticed he didn’t mention it. She helped Uncle Daniel untangle the fishing lines as the wind whispered into Lyra’s long black hair.

********

That night Lyra tossed and turned in her sleep. The sliver light of the quarter moon danced through her window taunting her with dreams that escaped her. She rolled over to where her window overlooked the sea. The gentle ringing of the wind chime combined with the rumbling waves became a lullaby to her that soothed her aching heart taking her back to her childhood to when ever she was sad she would wrap herself in her father’s arms and he would hum some old lullabies his mother would sing to him as a boy. It always made Lyra feel safe. Loved. 

Lyra once more found herself on a mysterious shore. The sun was warm. The sky was clear. She was naked again lying on the soft sand. Instead of hands it was a man’s mouth that brushed her lips. It was only a whisper of a kiss but a spark ignited in her blood that set her soul aflame with desire and her womanly center to ache with need. 

This time she caught his scent, a briny yet captivating natural musk of man and animal and it made her damp and clench her pussy with longing. She couldn’t see his face but she could feel the caress of his breath on her bare flesh, the softness of his lips.  

The mysterious yet tender lips traveled down Lyra’s neck to her collar bone where a tongue was introduced, tracing the bone giving her warm tingles. The lips made it to the curve of Lyra’s breasts. She breathed in sharply when she felt a hot mouth enclose around her nipple. The tongue commanded it to rise and harden as it flicked and licked the nub to life. 

Lyra groaned and the mouth did the same to her other nipple. Lyra arched her back, pushing her breasts against the stranger’s mouth. She rocked her hips, rubbing against him and feeling his arousal throbbing against her. But she only heard him chuckle softly, amused by her eagerness. 

The lips trailed burning, sensual kisses down her stomach and Lyra’s womanhood clenched and drizzled as she felt him getting closer to her sacred cove. Yet his lips avoided it for as long as possible. Instead the lips pressed against her thigh, trailing up to her calf until they gently kissed the sole of her foot. She giggle as she was a bit ticklish there. The mystery lips then took up her other foot and did the same but then he was heading towards where she was slick and hot for him.

Lyra whimpered, biting on her nails trying not to cry out for him to stick his tongue deep inside her. She couldn’t take this teasing for much longer. Then she felt his breath on her damp folds. She felt his lips as he softly kissed her golden flesh as tenderly as he would her mouth. She felt a tongue lightly lick her slit making her shiver with expectation. 

Then the stranger pressed his mouth to her dripping hot core. His tongue explored her inner lips even gliding against her clit that was erect and throbbing with lust. His tongue made tiny circles around the pink nub making Lyra squirm and moan in pleasure as her body pulsed with heat. 

She luxuriated in the sweet sensation that vibrated through her body. Strong arms encircled her waist to keep her hips from rocking out of control. His tongue teased her open, questing, conquering then he sheathed his tongue inside her. Lyra yelped and arched into him as he ate her. He was without mercy as he slowly worked her into a frenzy.

Then Lyra’s body bowed to sensation, spasming as she came in cascading hot waves. It was like an explosion went off inside her that was dormant for so long but only now set off by this mysterious stranger.

She felt his mouth leave her pussy then a whisper coarse yet soothing like a touch of velvet, “Come to me.” 

Lyra woke with a start. She felt hot and sticky between her legs and saw that her cream had dripped down her thigh. She flushed with embarrassment and licked her dry lips. She was in a sweat but the good kind after great sex. 

The seagulls called as the wind chimes gently sung an early morning song. What the hell was that all about? Lyra climbed out of bed, her muscles tired. She looked out on the beach to see a seal playing in the shallows watching her with deep soulful eyes. 

“Come to me…” 

The phrase repeated in Lyra’s head even after dawn broke over the Shetland Islands. 

********

Lyra had an explosion of inspiration suddenly. She couldn’t go back to sleep after that serious wet dream. She sketched out countless images of selkies and other Celtic figures until her hand cramped. She even skipped breakfast afraid that if she stopped then the inspiration would stop flowing.  

Aunt Gillie complained that Lyra was getting too thin, almost skin and bones. An exaggeration of course. Lyra was a curvy size 6 and proud of that fact. But Lyra’s stomach did begin to grumble for food. She eventually emerged from her room to find Aunt Gillie with the local young pastor. Matthew Brown. 

He was in his mid 30s and had dark rust colored hair and eyes like turquoise gems but they were hard and cold. When Lyra was dragged to a church service she had to listen to Pastor Brown’s hard line religious sermons. They were having tea being set with the good plates with the navy blue patterns.  

  Oh no… Aunt Gillie turned but Lyra quickly ducked behind a wall. Lyra shut her eyes tight, her heart pounded with anxiety against her breast bone, and she felt her throat closing. Maybe they didn’t see her? 

“Lyra? Is that you?”

Fuck. Lyra took a deep breath to settle her nerves and put on her best polite smile. Her lips tightened as she tried to give a small smile as she slowly rounded the corner to face them. Aunt Gillie rose up and wrapped an arm around Lyra’s shoulders making her feel trapped. 

“Lyra, I’m sure you remember Pastor Brown,” Aunt Gillie beamed. 

“Yeah, Hi,” was all Lyra managed to say. She felt half naked being only in a pair of tight jeans, a tank top and thin cotton cardigan that was her cousin’s and it seemed to be too big for her and sliding off her shoulder.

Pastor Brown nodded in recognition. A crease formed in the middle of his forehead and his nose crinkled making him look years older than he was but the look in his cold turquoise eyes were that of lust and he hated himself for having such a feeling.

“I hear you’re going through a difficult time, Miss Darrow,” said Brown. “Your Aunt’s been tellin’ me that you are in need of some guidance.”

Lyra’s jaw locked as inside she fumed at her aunt for trying to play match maker. 

“That was… so sweet of her,” Lyra’s tone had a sharp edge to it that Aunt Gillie ignored. 

“I thought it would be nice for you to talk to a good man to lift your spirits,” Aunt Gillie was practically pushing Lydia to the table but being a stubborn Darrow Lyra dug her heels in. She wouldn’t be treated like cattle to be herded into the slaughter house. 

“I wish I could, Aunt Gillie, Pastor,” Lyra spun around and before her mind could formulate what her body was doing she was half way to the front door. “But I promised I would help Liam practice his knotting.”

“But—“

Lyra quickly stole a roll of bread and took a large bite.

“So sorry bye!” Her goodbye was muffled by a full mouth, crumbs flying as she was practically skipping out the door. The sky was gray and one could feel a storm about to break. The wind combed through Lyra’s raven hair as Aunt Gillie tried to call after her but her Scottish curses were lost in the wind’s howl. 

********

Lyra escaped her aunt and the leering brimstone pastor by hiding underneath a black tarp that covered a small fishing boat. It was an old boat that seemed more for show but it could float and didn’t have any holes at the bottom. 

A chill suddenly settled into Lyra as she remembered she was only wearing a tank with a loose cardigan. The tarp acted as a blanket and Lyra looked at the dark gray clouds that seemed set to burst forth with a down pour. 

Lyra was never afraid of thunder and lightning. Thunder was practically soothing. The rumbling thunder in the distance combined with the gentle rocking of the boat acted as a lullaby. She felt like a baby in her cradle being lulled to sleep by a mother’s hum and loving embrace. 

She closed her eyes and her mind drifted to a place beneath the waves where it was quiet and seaweed waved in the soft currents. She was no longer human but a seal twisting and turning in her sleek body exploring the ocean that was her playground.

Lyra wasn’t aware of the real world until she felt a hard bump and stillness of her surroundings. She opened her eyes feeling the spitting of rain cold on her face. She rubbed her tired forest green and copper eyes to find that she wasn’t tied to the dock but the boat was beached on an island. She visited here often enough with her cousins and Uncle Daniel enough to recognize it as Fair Muckle Rónán.

Confused, Lyra climbed out of the boat and inspected the boat. The rope had been cut… No chewed on. Gnawed through by something but she should have floated out to sea unless that same creature pulled her here.

Lightning lined the sky like a fracture in a gray background following the sound of a violent cracking whip. The rain fell heavier. Lyra knew where she could take shelter to wade out the storm. She pulled the small boat further onto the shore so it would get washed away then turned it over to keep the inside dry. Then she ran quickly up the beach as the rain and wind pummeled her as if she had personally angered them.

Lyra spotted the cottages through the curtain of rain. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her into the warmth of the abandoned cottage. She closed the door as the storm raged outside. She was soaked through. 

 Lyra’s black hair plastered to her wet ivory skin and she shivered from the cold. 

********

Lyra saw that there was driftwood and flint stones to help build a fire. She used some straw that had fallen from the straw roof to help get a fire going in the old fire place. She took off her wet cardigan and huddled by the fire on a straw made matt she found trying to think of a way to get back home after the storm settled. Aunt Gillie will be distraught. Most likely crying into a dish towel going from screaming angrily to despondent weeping. 

Lyra sat in the golden glow of the warm fire when she was startled by a violent knock at the door. Maybe the wind knocked something against the door? Lyra went to investigate but when she opened the door she couldn’t believe what she saw. It was a man, lean muscles like a swimmer and olive skin with black hair lying half naked at the cottage door but below the waist Lyra’s insides locked.

Around his waist was a seal skin. The man appeared to be trying to get out of it or into it. Lyra wasn’t sure. Her instincts told her to shut the door as her Uncle’s voice rang in her ears: you don’t want to meet a male selkie. The young man groaned as if in pain.

But Lyra’s maternal instincts overpowered her Uncle’s voice and survival instincts. She heaved the young male selkie into the cottage and out of the violent storm. 

********

Lyra was unsure of what to do except lay the selkie man by the fireplace on her make shift straw matt. He began to shiver violently and Lyra helped him out of his seal skin and placed it on a lonely nail that stood out on the dusty wall unsure of what else to do with it. This close her nose caught a familiar briny musk. A scent from her erotic dreams that made her womanhood spasm with excitement. She felt her face grow hot to see his cock not flaccid but somewhat thick and raised at half mast. 

Lyra looked around the room trying to find something to cover him with to give him some decency and to stop the erotic images entering her mind on what she could do to such a fine cock (or what could be done to her with it). She couldn’t find anything but almost jumped out of her skin when she heard the young man speak, “So cold…”

Lyra turned to see his eyes open and her heart stopped a beat at the sight of them. They were obsidian yet soulful, penetrating her flesh to see the spirit within. She shivered but not from cold. Lyra felt an ache come over her (coming from between her thighs). The young man smiled and it made Lyra lick her lips as she wanted to taste his lips. Would they have a salty taste like in her dream?

She shook her head to try and rid herself of the naughty fantasies playing out. He could be dying for God sakes and you’re thinking of fucking him?! He’s also part seal!

“It’s alright, lass,” the young man chuckled. His voice was Scottish but more rustic yet there was a lovely cadence to it. Perhaps he was a singer as well.

“Sorry I… I don’t know how to talk to…,” Lyra became self conscious, digging for some imaginary dirt underneath her fingernails. “Well…”

“If it makes you feel better I’ve never spoken to a human either,” he said. He laid there unashamed or unaware of his nakedness. “At least not in a long time…”

“How long?”

The selkie smiled, his obsidian eyes full of secrecy. He shivered again.

“So cold,” he said. “You seem cold too.”

His voice was full of suggestion which had Lyra wary but she couldn’t help but feel a certain desire to rip her clothes off and lay down beside him. The selkie sat up watching her like a hunter eyeing it’s prey. But Lyra didn’t feel as afraid as she should have been.

“Hold on there—“

“Angus.”

“What?”

“My name is Angus in case you were wonderin’,” Angus leaned back, his cock coming to attention and his lean wet muscles practically gleaming in the orange firelight. Lyra licked her lips again and clenched her thighs as the space between them tingled with heat. 

“Lyra,” she greeted. 

“I’m not the only one who needs warmth, Lyra,” said Angus. “You might die of hypothermia if you don’t get warm.”

Lyra felt herself grow even colder as Angus spoke about it. Her body was wracked with shivers as she hugged herself in trying to keep warm. Her lips trembled and she suspected they were turning blue. 

“I won’t bite,” Angus said. “Unless that’s what you like…”

Lyra was still on the fence but then he said something that was a juicy bait on a hook, “Come to me.”

Lyra heaved a shivering sigh then nodded tucking her wet black hair behind her ear. Lyra took off the rest of her wet clothes. There didn’t seem a point given she knew where this was going. Why not? He wasn’t bad looking and how often does a girl get to have sex with a supernatural creature? Thousands have written paranormal romances and erotica about it.

“I just need some warmth, lass,” Angus smiled as Lyra lay beside him. “I don’t take advantage of young girls.” 

“I’m 28 but thanks for the heads up… Angus,” Lyra felt Angus’s arm wrap around her, pulling her into his body where she felt his member pressed against her tail bone and her womanhood practically cried out to it. She clenched her thighs together blushing with embarrassment. 

They laid in silence listening to the howling of the storm, the torrent waves crashing on the shore and soothing crackling of the fire. Lyra tried to concentrate on those sounds and not the steady sound of Angus’s breathing or the feel of it on her neck that made goosebumps bloom. Her body began to warm combining with the selkie’s body heat they were enough to put the flames in the fire place to shame. 

Angus moved and Lyra felt his cock throb a little and she bit her lip. It was all she could do to stop herself from opening her legs and guiding that turgid organ between her ivory thighs. Then Angus’s hand moved up stopping just below her breast. Then she felt his lips lightly brush against her shoulder then nuzzle into her neck. A soft longing sigh escaped Lyra’s lips.

When his lips touched her ear Lyra was a goner. She pressed more into Angus’s body as the wind beat against their shelter. Heat bloomed in her core as she took Angus’s hand and had it caress her full burning breast. Her peaked, rose bud nipples puckered craving his attention. A small groan fell from Lyra’s mouth as Angus rolled the heated point between his fingers.

Lyra’s hair was damp now as Angus raked his fingers through it. His hand then slid around her back in a hungry hello, moving to where she ached for him. She didn’t protest to his touch but softly gasped when she felt his fingers run along her slick folds already puffy with desire. 

His fingers stroked her, sending Lyra into shivers of ecstasy. Angus licked her neck then pressed a kiss to her damp skin. Lyra opened her thighs slightly to give the selkie better access to her womanly secrets. He teased and worked her folds making Lyra wiggled against him as heavenly sighs fell from her mouth like a gentle rain. 

Angus’s fingers then spread her wide and he slowly sank a finger into her ready heat. Then as Lyra began to groan in ecstasy he inserted a second. Lyra’s mouth became an “o” of a silent scream as he worked his strong fingers into her, igniting her. She began to work her hips meeting his thrusting fingers as she rubbed her rose bud.

Angus watched her add to her own pleasure, mesmerized as he watched her face contort into ecstatic reverie. Her muscles locked and unlocked around his two fingers then spasmed when Lyra hit her peak. He felt a hot liquid coat his fingers as he slowly pulled out. Lyra panted with exhaustion. 

Angus turned Lyra’s head and swooped in stealing a kiss. His kiss set off a sharp, wild need in Lyra that she had never felt before. Her mouth opened to his kiss and she felt his tongue slide boldly in. She met his tongue in a wet slide and moaned into his mouth as she felt Angus encircle the heated rosy peak of her breast with his cum coated fingers. 

Lyra boldly wrapped one slender hand around his erection and was amazed by his thickness. His cock seemed to come alive in her hands becoming a magic, growing thing she yearned to have inside her. Angus broke the kiss to groan in delight at Lyra’s touch. 

He stared intently into her eyes as she stroked his hard heat up and down. 

“Such beautiful eyes,” Angus whispered, his musical accented voice sensual and deep. “Green with copper rings…”

Lyra loved hearing his sweet words but longed to feel his love inside her. He cupped her head and kissed her lips, his lips working hers as she rolled onto her back allowing Angus to be on top of her. She suddenly had a feeling of deja vu. Angus’s black hair framed his face, dripping rain and salt water onto Lyra’s hot flesh. His dark obsidian eyes deep with longing and lust so familiar.

Angus wedged himself between Lyra’s wanton thighs. He teased her folds, coating himself in her wetness. Lyra flashed back to her dream. His scent. The feel of his hard flesh against her tender flesh. Her womanhood clenched and drizzled with excitement for the next wave of orgasms. Emboldened by her own reckless desire, she guided him in.

Angus’s erection filled her, stripping away everything but her need. The storm raged outside. Lightning struck the earth, flashing for a split second followed by another violent crack. Lyra arched her back and groaned as the lightning crashed feeling as alive and full of hot energy as that natural phenomenon as Angus sunk deeper into her. 

Their hands connected and fingers interlaced as Angus pressed harder into her, deeper, filling her up with his selkie maleness. The silky heat between Lyra’s thighs captured him and she wrapped her legs around him, locking him in as some happy prisoner of her desire. Angus leaned down and met Lyra’s moaning lips with a sizzling kiss that was bone tingling.

Angus was slow at first. Sensual in his movement as he pressed his body into Lyra’s creating one being that became a pulsing nerve of raw desire and pleasure. He moved inside her as Peter never did. He filled her as Peter never could. Fingers entwined, faces close, they moved to the raw rhythm of the storm until the storm itself melted into nonexistence. 

Lyra felt like she was touching an exposed wire, her body was alive and burning with electricity as she climbed higher to heaven. Her muscles gripped him tighter, milking him as he would pull out only to plunge back in with more conviction. Rapid breaths and gentle thrusts grew more intense as Angus increased his speed. Angus thrusted harder, letting go of Lyra’s hands to caress her face as he did so. 

He smothered her cries of passion with his hard and soft kisses as she felt heated tension coil in her abdomen. He drove into her with animal fierceness growling with ferocity as he was trapped between torment and ecstasy. Angus wanted to come inside her but that would mean leaving her tight silky heat. He wanted to bury himself inside her as he felt she wanted the same. 

Then suddenly they came together. They gasped and groaned, giving into mutual pleasure. Their muscles tensed then they collapsed into each other in sweat and exhausted lust. Lyra loved every second Angus remained hard inside her. Angus showered Lyra’s face with soft kisses as she raked her fingers over the contours of his lean olive muscles sending tiny sparks up the selkie’s spine. 

Angus finally slipped out of Lyra then rolled over pulling her with him placing her head beneath his chin as she wrapped a leg around his leg. The sky grew darker as night settled in. The storm lessened yet the seas remained restless. Thunder rumbled in the distance as the voice of the rain became softer beating gently against the cottage. The fire crackled and popped bathing them in a golden orange light but they basked in their own warmth.

“That was you wasn’t it?” Lyra finally said as Angus stroked her long black hair, damp from rain and perspiration. 

“Hm?”

Lyra let her hands play over his body, running lightly over his firm ab muscles as she buried her face in his neck and chest.

“The seal who’s been stalking me,” Lyra sighed but couldn’t stop herself from smiling as she finished her sentence. “Those dreams…”

Angus chuckled. She listened to the cadence of his laughter deep in his chest combine with the staccato rhythm of his heart. Lyra straddled Angus who’s mischievous smile made her want to punish him for secrets. 

“Don’t lie,” Lyra said as she took Angus’s manhood finding it hard and ready again. 

“I wouldn’t lie to you, sweet lass,” Angus arched his hips allowing Lyra to guide him inside her. “You can trust a selkie to always tell the truth.”

Lyra grunted as she drew him into the dark heat of her passion. 

“My uncle said never trust a male selkie,” Lyra said as she slowly ground her hips. Angus watched her breasts bounce with each gentle thrust and licked his lips as the desire to suckle her pebble nipples.

“I called to you,” Angus sat up, kissing the luscious curves of Lyra’s full breasts. “You answered.”

“So I take your skin then you’re mine?”

Angus stopped then sighed. He didn’t look angry or afraid. He just smiled with dark eyes containing some secret truth Lyra would go mad trying to find.

“Are you looking for a husband?” Angus shrugged. “Because I wouldn’t mind. If my skin were ever stolen I’d prefer it be you.” Angus wrapped his strong arms around Lyra pulling her close, smashing her breasts against his firm chest. 

Lyra raked her fingers through Angus’s ink black locks loving their softness, smelling the sea within the tresses. 

“I don’t want another husband,” Lyra admitted. It felt good to say that. For a while she had been feeling adrift as if she had lost some of herself in the empty marriage. After the miscarriage there wasn’t much holding her and Peter together. His affair made her feel unattractive but now…

Angus squeezed Lyra’s buttocks and moved her up and down on his cock piercing the deepest part of her molten core. Lyra sighed. No she didn’t want another mate. She wanted to feel wanted, desired. Besides selkie romances never ended happily anyway.

“I just want to forget the world exists,” Lyra groaned as she dug her nails into Angus’s tan shoulders. 

“Your wish is my command,” Angus whispered huskily. They met in a passionate kiss with tongues thrusting as they moved as one and the storm passed slowly over them in the night where orgasms came as hard and soft as thunder and lightning.

********

Lyra woke up alone. The sun was shining, sending golden beams through the windows. Lyra was sleeping on the straw matt. She saw her clothes were finally dry but the selkie’s seal skin was gone along with Angus. Lyra should have felt abandoned but strangely she didn’t. In fact she was smiling.

She got dressed thinking of how to get back home when she opened the door to find a brown wicker basket waiting for her. Lyra opened it to find quite a few freshly caught fish. Her stomach growled in response. She looked up to see a few seals playing in the waves. One in particular was eager for her to see him.

Lyra couldn’t help but laugh. She remade a fire and as she was cooking breakfast on the beach she heard someone familiar calling her name. Lyra looked up to see Uncle Daniel with a few of her cousins and Liam in some motor boats. She waved to them, the wind whipping her black hair behind her like a raven flapping it’s wings. 

********

“7 Years Later…”

Lyra drove along the Scottish coast listening to “Waves” by Young Heart playing on her radio smiling and humming to the lyrics. Her young son Finn was in the back seat reading Scottish fairytales for Kids, his mother’s name attributed to the illustrations. Seven years a best seller.

“You excited to see Grand Uncle Daniel and Grand Aunt Gillie, Finn?” Lyra asked as she pulled into a port town where a boat was waiting for them to take them to the Shetland Isles. 

Finn nodded with a big smile. He was a boy of few words but he loved music and loved to draw. He was the best swimmer in his class. His teachers swear he was part mermaid.

Finn had the Darrow eyes, spring green eyes with a copper ring around the black pupil. But he had olive skin and inky black hair. Her family asked who Finn’s father was but Lyra would only smile with a twinkle in her eye. Uncle Daniel never asked but he could sense the truth. He would only smile too whenever he heard someone ask Lyra who Finn’s father was.

Lyra took Finn out of his car seat and he ran to the docks. He loved boats. Lyra was teaching him knots and already he was as skilled as her. 

“Mommy, look!” Finn cried out pointing out at the dark ocean. “Seals!”

Lyra knelt beside her son and held him close. One seal in particular that Lyra recognized swam up to them, swimming and jumping joyfully in the water making Finn laugh. 

“Maybe he’s a silkie like in your storybook,” Finn tilted his head in curiosity and the seal mimicked him. 

“Selkie. Maybe you’re right…,” Lyra laughed as she took her son’s hand in hers. “Come on, we don’t want to miss the boat.”

********


THE END