By The Sea

It is well after sunup…after eating my breakfast on the veranda overlooking the sea behind my house, I go down to my “workshop” in the open-aired basement, which contains several dozen aquariums filled with seawater and numerous denizens from the reefs out back. The quiet hiss of an air compressor tells me all is well; the tanks are being filtered and it is feeding time. Soon I am immersed in the care of my charge. Time passes and the outside world disappears as I busy myself feeding by hand several large moray eels in two big tanks against one wall.

Then, a hesitant voice cuts thru my reverie…”Excuse me…er…sir?”

“Hang on a sec,” I reply, with my arm submerged up to my shoulder in the water and a piece of fish wriggling enticingly from my fingers. It takes a minute or so, but the shy, reclusive creature that I have spent months restoring to health from a cast-off fishing hook has finally begun to trust me. It slithers out of its crevice from underneath a piece of rock in the tank and entwines itself about my hand. It then noses the piece of fish, grabs it and then shoots back to its lair.

“Okay, lady, how can I help you?” I remove my arm from the water and shake it off, then climb down off the stepladder and look towards the source of that voice. The sight of a tall woman standing by my back gate, which is the only access from the beach to my house, greets my eyes. She is wearing very short shorts; a tied-off at the waist. Her shirt is open and showing underneath a pair of full, well- rounded breasts straining to contain themselves in a bikini top. She also has on a big, floppy straw hat, from which underneath flows the longest mane of red hair I have ever seen, waving slightly in the morning breeze. A pair of violet eyes takes in my sleeveless tee-top, bathing shorts, tanned skin and well-developed muscles; acquired from years of patrolling the reefs behind my house in skin-diving gear. “This is a private beach. I usually don’t allow visitors because it upsets the inhabitants of the reefs out there, where I do my work.” I said while gesturing towards the beach.

“Oh, how fascinating,” she replies. “But I just wanted to ask if you’d mind if I came by and just sat down under the palm trees out there. I am a writer, you see, and when I saw this place from the cliff top I knew I had to see it closer. I am new in town, and I have been looking for a place to just… sit and rest, and gather inspiration for my next book. I won’t disturb you, or the fish… in fact, I don’t even plan on getting wet.”

“Hmmm,” I mutter to myself. It’s been a long time since I have been in the presence of other people, much less a very pretty lady like the one that has just shown up on my back porch.

“Well, I suppose it’s all right,” I answer her. “But just make sure you don’t mess around with the reef out there. It can be dangerous for someone who doesn’t know what lives there, and most of the critters recognize me by sight. In fact,” I add, thoughtfully, “You might like to take a “tour” of the area there… guided by me, of course. There are a few places that are pretty … inspiring, to say the least.”

“Thank you,” is the reply. “I just might do that… though it has been a while since I have done any diving.”

“Well, whenever you feel comfortable with it let me know. I have to go now, I still have some fish to feed here. Have a nice day, and don’t get those freckles too sunburned,” I add with a smile.

As I turn to walk back towards the beach I am thinking to myself that the man who lives here is a pretty handsome fellow. A little bit of a loner it looks to me, from what I can see of his house, but still handsome. A smile plays on my face as I walk back to my car making plans to myself to come back early the next morning. I want to come early enough to make full use of the cooler morning air so I can take a jog along the beach before I sit to contemplate on my next book.

I have a title in mind and a basic plot, but no characters as of yet. It is to be my fifth romance novel. I was really lucky with the first one and the rest just took off from there. I feel really fortunate that as young as I am that I have done so well. I don’t have anyone to answer to, so I pretty much can do what I want. With my books successes came a real independence that I craved since getting out in the real world, and also with my occupation as a writer brings a certain anonymity that has it’s fringe benefits. I can go out in public and no one knows that I am a young, independently wealthy woman. No mobs, no cameras, just peaceful days and nights. Being single has its advantages I think to myself as that smile finds it’s way back to my lips. Now I am ready to write again, and this seems the perfect place.

The next morning I am up before sunrise, and with all my gear in tow I drive to the beach, looking forward to that jog in the fresh morning air. I arrive and it seems that no one is awake, but I don’t let that daunt me as I get set up in my spot. After everything is set, I peel down to my bathing suit and start some stretches. After warming up a little, I start off down the beach at an easy pace. After what seems just a short time I find myself back at the beach house and quietly invigorated. After a few more stretches and a cool drink of water, I set down to contemplate on some characters for my book when suddenly I am startled by the owner of the house looking down at me with a smile on his face and two cups of coffee in his hands.

“Morning”, I greet you as you settle down after your run. “Thought you might like a cup of coffee to get them brain cells going.” Damn, but she looks good in a bathing suit, I muse to myself as I descend the staircase and make my way to her, trying not to spill the coffee over the uneven sand.

“Early riser, eh?” I hand you one of the two cups and then sit down on the sand next to her beach chair.

“Yes,” you reply, taking a sip. “Mmmmm, this is good. I like to take a morning run, before the heat gets too bad.”

“Thank you,” I reply. “Um, you look great. You’re in pretty decent shape… if you don’t mind my saying so,” I add somewhat sheepishly, and blushing furiously.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you reply with a smile. “What do you do to stay in shape?”

“Swim... out there, every day, for the past 20 years.” I point offshore. “I know every nook and cranny, every coral outcrop, every cave, every sandbar out there; and like I said yesterday, most of the resident fish know me by sight. I’ve seen most of them grow up, and I hate it when stupid fishermen leave their trash out on the reefs.” My gaze hardens as I continue, “I’ve had to rescue quite a few fish out there, who’ve gotten hurt by hooks caught in their mouths from swallowing discarded lines. Abandoned illegal traps and just plain old trash, like plastic bottles and six-pack holders… you name it, I’ve found it out there.”

“Oh geez,” you reply. “People can be such pigs!”

“Uh-huh,” I answer. “But it makes me feel good when I can put something back. I spearfish now and then, for my supper, but to replace the ones I take I try to help the little ones grow up with a bit of help. They don’t really need it, as there’s more than enough food out there, but the injured ones are another story. I catch them, get them well again and then release them back.”

“Oh, how sweet.”

“In fact, that’s what I am going to do today. I have a moray eel that is well enough to be released, so in a little while I’m gonna head out and take him to his new home. Would you like to come?”

“Sure… that is, if you don’t mind.”

“No, not at all. I’d love to show you around out there. Lots of interesting things to see; I’ll come down and get you when I am ready. You have gear? Fins, snorkel, and mask?”

“Yes, in the trunk of my car. I’ll go get them.”

“No hurry, it wont be for a few hours yet,” I reply. “Just sit tight, enjoy that coffee, and ah… do whatever it is you do.” Grinning, I leave you there and go back to the house, to begin my morning feeding rounds.

Three hours later I judge it is time to head out. I gather my equipment, which besides my snorkeling stuff includes an inner tube with a bucket tied to the inside with holes in it and a lid. I have a rope with a small anchor attached, a large ziploc bag with pieces of fish inside and a long line for towing the whole contraption. I pick up the whole thing, open my back gate and head for the water’s edge to lay it there for the moment. As I pass you, you look up with a puzzled expression on your face.

“It’s my home-made version of a live-well,” I explain. “Helps keep the fish alive until I get them here… or out there. See these holes in the bucket? They allow fresh seawater to circulate and keep the fish happy. The lid is so they don’t jump out or get toasted by the sun.”

“Smart idea,” you say. You make as if to get up and follow me, but I wave you back.

“Got any suntan lotion? Better get some on or you’ll get burned,” I tell you. “Give me a few minutes to get this in the water and the fish inside.” As you start rummaging thru your bag, I head down to the water’s edge, wade in until the water is up to my waist, set the tube on the surface and then drop the anchor so it doesn’t go floating away in the current. The bucket quickly fills with water and I head back to the basement to net the moray eel and transfer it to a bucket and bring it back here. As I pass you again I notice you are busy slathering on some lotion. It smells faintly of coconut. “Almost ready,” I call out. “Let me get him floating in the water.”

“Okay,” you reply.

I quickly transfer the eel to the floating bucket and replace the lid, nice and tight. I leave a large dip net tied to a loop on the bucket, for when we reach the release site. Then I head back to return the other bucket and get my snorkel gear. Closing the back gate, I make my way over to you, where you are still busy covering yourself with the suntan lotion.

“Ready?” I ask.

“Um, almost,” you reply. “I…I need a bit of help… could you, um, put some lotion on my back? I can’t reach there.” you say as you hold out the tube with a bit of a sly smile.

Oh boy, I think to myself… this is getting… interesting. I drop my gear to the sand and take the tube. After squeezing a generous amount onto my palm I apply it to your back and begin smoothing it on; gently massaging my way from your shoulders down to your waist. You sigh appreciatively and the sound makes my manhood jump in my shorts, as it had already gotten hard after my hands first touched your skin. Luckily they are baggy and you can’t see my reaction. I notice you had forgotten to cover the backs of your legs. "Er, do you know you missed the backs of your legs?" I ask you.

“Oops, that was a bit dumb,” you reply. “Do you mind?”

“Um…not at all,” I say, and crouch down behind you. I apply a generous line of lotion down the back of each leg. Starting from your ankles, I work my way up, massaging the lotion into your skin. As I reach the backs of your knees, you sag a bit and a quiet moan escapes your lips.

“What was that?” I ask.

“Ohh… nothing,” you reply with a smile, eyes closed. “It just feels good. Please don’t mind me…hee hee.”

“Okay, if you say so.” I answer, and continue working my way up the backs of your legs. I reach your thighs, and you shift your legs wider apart. As my hands rub the inside of your thighs and near your butt, you moan louder and start to rock your hips in response.

As he rubs me with lotion my mind travels off into my story all on it's own. I get lost in the story line I had started, and I am thinking that this would make a great continuance to it. Then, suddenly, his hands are massaging the lotion between my thighs and that feeling in the pit of my stomach flames up with white, hot heat making me instantly wet. I can't help myself as my hips start to move. It has been too long since I have been touched this way. My suit has ridden up somewhat since my jog this morning, leaving my cheeks quite exposed, although there wasn't much to it in the first place. It is a one-piece that is completely backless except for a small part that barely covers my cheeks. The front runs in a V-shape to below my navel and the sides are high cut on the sides. The back part comes around and ties at my waist, and the front ties behind my neck. Two quick pulls and I would be very naked.

His hands are performing magic to my inner and outer thighs, melting me, making me weak-kneed. Then his hands move higher, slathering lotion over my cheeks, and a moan escapes my lips. This seems to encourage him even more, as a hand moves back down between my legs… finding me warm, and already wet with desire. That hand finds a way up under my suit, and then down along it… between my cheeks, moving ever so slowly, then down between my legs again, as if he is afraid I am going to stop him. That is the furthest thing from my mind as his fingers move back and forth between my lips.

I reach back and find the other hand, pulling it around to my front, showing him where the tie is. I can hear a small groan from him as he pulls the ties loose and that part of my suit falls away. Standing, he reaches up and undoes the top tie behind my neck, and the rest of my suit falls to my blanket. He is standing so close I can feel his erection pressing into me and it sends more bursts of heat down to my loins. I press back into him with my buttocks, as his hands move down to my breasts, and his mouth finds it's way to that spot on my shoulder to suckle it, making me mad now with desire. I utter 3 small words quietly in his ear, with one hand on top of his, pressing his hand into my breast, and the other reaching back to pull his hips into mine. "I want you…" is all I can manage to say.

“You must have read my mind,” I reply softly. “You have no idea how long it’s been since I’ve felt this way.” As I marvel over the softness of the skin of your breasts, caressing and gently massaging them, you lower your hands to my trunks and slip them down my hips, freeing my throbbing erection. I step out of the trunks and pull you into me, my hands on both your breasts and my cock pressed into the cleft between your butt cheeks. You moan in pleasure and rock your hips, sliding my length up and down between your cheeks. “Mmmmmm,” I murmur, nibbling gently on the base of your neck, “That feels good!”

“Uh-huh,” you reply, and shift your legs apart, slightly raising your hips, allowing my cock to slip between your thighs. “I agree! Ohhhhhhh yessss, that feels SO wonderful!” You tilt your head back, eyes closed, and bring one hand down to your crotch to begin rubbing your clit and the tip of my cock as it slides between your thighs. My length is pressed tightly up between your now-wet lips and I begin to move my hips back and forth, massaging my length and savoring the sensations flowing through my body.

Suddenly you moan and, arching your hips in time with my next thrust, position yourself so that I can’t help but slide my cock inside your waiting, wet tunnel. With a groan of pleasure I grab your hips and pull you to me as you bend at the waist and support your upper body with one arm on the lounge chair, your other hand rubbing feverishly down below. We move back and forth, giving as well as receiving pleasure in a dance as old as time; the sounds of the sea serving as a background to our own private chorus of moans and gasps of pleasure.

Slowly at first, then increasing, the tempo picks up as we lose ourselves in each other’s bodies; breath quickens and sweat glistens in the early morning sun as our passion reaches a fevered pitch. All too soon the promised crescendo is reached with the tempest of ecstasy crashing over us in wave after wave of sweet pleasure. I pull your hips tight against mine as your contractions squeeze my length deep inside you, my hot seed spurting out in time to each spasm of pleasure.

“Ohhhhhhhhhh, geeeeeeez,” I manage to gasp, as I almost collapse on top of you. “It’s been sooo long… I’ve almost forgotten what it felt like!” Weak in the knees, I sit on the edge of the lounge chair and gaze seaward. Then, I remember with a start that I had a fish floating out there in a bucket. “Oh, criminy,” I say. “For a minute there, I forgot all about the fish!” Chuckling, I add, “See what you do to me? C’mon, let’s jump in and rinse off; then we can head out to the reefs I want to show you. We can continue this again after.” I say with a wink and a smile.

We stagger to the water’s edge carrying our swimsuits and snorkeling gear. After a quick plunge we get suited up and head out. I take the lead, towing the inner-tube raft behind. Along the way I point out various outcrops of corals and sponge gardens, all teeming with marine life of all forms and colors. After about fifteen minutes, I reach the spot where I wanted to release the moray; below us was a large pile of coral and sponge-encrusted boulders with many nooks and crannies, perfect for a young eel like this one to make a home.

“Here we are, first stop!” I tell you. “Hang onto the inner tube, while I fish him out and release him down below.”

You steady the raft while I pop the lid and carefully net the eel; I then replace the lid and, taking a deep breath, flip my heels up and head for the bottom, some 15 feet below the surface. Anchoring a leg on a protruding rock, I open the net bag and gently coax the eel out, close to a cozy nook in between two rocks. It slithers out, testing the water and surroundings with its senses, then in a flash it disappears into the hole. I quickly rise to the surface and pull out a piece of fish from the ziploc bag; returning to the bottom I wait there for a minute and hold out the fish by the eel’s new front door. The scent draws him out; having been accustomed to being hand fed, he doesn’t take long to snake out and snatch the fish from my fingers. Seeing that he is comfortable enough to want to feed, I head back to the surface with a happy grin on my face.
“Always makes me feel good,” I say. “To know that he’ll be just fine out here, where he belongs.”

“That was incredible,” you say. “It’s like, Jacques Cousteau, you know what I mean?”

“Ha ha haa,” I laugh. “You ain’t seen nothing yet! Follow me, the best is yet to come!”

We continue on again, paralleling the shore some one hundred yards out. I point out the various varieties of hard and soft corals, sponges, and fishes galore as we swim along. You’re amazed at the sheer volume of knowledge I share with you, albeit tidbit by tidbit. “I hope I’m not boring you to death with all this stuff,” I say as we skim along the surface. “Its not often I get the chance to show off my back yard!”

“Not at all,” you reply. “I’m learning tons of stuff! I had no idea all this was right out here and so easy to see!”

After another fifteen minutes of swimming, I stop. Below us on the bottom in about twenty feet of water is a small fishing boat with a big hole torn in its keel. It is resting on a large outcrop of coral-covered rock. Several portholes run along the sides with all the panes broken. Clouds of small fishes swim around the wreck, picking off little bits and pieces of edible stuff that has had the time to grow on its surface. I take the anchor and let it down slowly to the bottom, letting it hook onto a railing of the wreck.

“Okay,” I say, “we’re here. I’ve got a “friend” down below in that wreck. I rescued him from a crab pot about three years ago and brought him out here where nobody would bother him. Since I feed him tidbits a couple times a week, he knows me and trusts me… however, I don’t know how he’ll react with a stranger around. Sooo,” I add as I take the ziploc bag with its remaining pieces of fish, “I want you to stay up here and don’t come down to get a closer look, no matter what, ok?”

“Why, what is he?” You ask, perplexed.

“Bubba’s a moray eel,” I answer. “But a big one…reeeeally big! And I don’t want to take the chance of him biting you, okay?”

“Um, okay, if you say so,” she replied skeptically. “But, what about you?”

“I told ya, he knows me… I’m not worried… that much!” I kid as I give you a quick pinch on the arm. “Now, stay put, hear?”

You nod assent as I begin to hyperventilate, concentrating more oxygen in my blood so I can stay down longer without having to rush back to the surface in the middle of the feeding session. Then, I flip myself heels up, swim for the wreck and hook my knee under a railing near one particular porthole. Then, I thump the side of the wreck three times with my fist. Seconds later, a huge, ugly green head appears in the porthole. The green moray looks up at you for a moment before slithering out of its den and winding itself around my legs and body. Fully eight feet long and thicker than my thighs, Bubba was the stuff of which nightmares were made. I could stick my arm right down his throat and have room to spare. I look up at you as I open the ziploc bag and reach in for a piece of fish; you stare down, wide-eyed and concerned for my safety as you wonder to yourself “What is this guy, crazy???”

Nonchalantly I run my hands gently along the length of Bubba’s slippery body. His huge head swings around and he investigates my facemask, then smells the piece of fish I have in one hand. I extend my arm, and he reaches out towards my hand, then gently snags the fish from my fingertips and swallows it. I pull out piece after piece of fish until the bag is empty; each time Bubba waits patiently before neatly grasping it from my fingers and swallowing. When no more fish were forthcoming, he takes a final slither around my chest, down between my legs, and then slips back into his porthole, He turns around to poke just his snout out a few inches and to keep an eye out for more tidbits.

I unhook my leg from the railing and head for the surface; releasing my breath in a whoosh I pull off my facemask and rest my arms on the inner tube. In between gasps of air, I look at you and ask, “Hey, you okay? You look white as a sheet! Whaddya think of Bubba?”