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   Author's Note: This story was developed several years ago, as a first
try at writing erotica.  It was posted in several UseNet newsgroups for
such material, and was quite well received.  I've really hoped it was a
great introduction to my religious beliefs for a lot of people.  Judging by
the lack of negative response (and wealth of positive response) I received
at that time, it may indeed have been so.

   The Sea Witchby The WhiteRose(all rights reserved -- public
distrubution strictly prohibited without prior written permission)

   Hallie loved the beach.  It wasn't just the love of a day in the sun and
the sound of the pounding surf.  It wasn't even getting to show off her
graceful curves to the lifeguards.  She was a mermaid of sorts, a sea
priestess.  And that meant her power was its greatest when she was at the
ocean.  She always wondered what it was like for all of the mundanes, going
to the beach just to have a nice time in the sun, sand and sea.  Not to
feel that rush of energy and the ability to control it.  To her, the water
was the blood of her goddess, the world's biggest basin of holy water.  The
sun was fire incarnate, and the sand was earth.  And from the slightest
breeze to the fiercest gale, the wind carried the power of the air.  And
every bit of that power but waited for her command.

   She knew her sea magic.  She could pull the waves higher on the beach,
or turn the winds to cool the air around her.  That was tricky stuff and
not of much practical use most of the time.  But that she could do it was a
measure of her abilities.  Most of the time, she did simple things, like
calling driftwood or perhaps a shell from the surf.  Driftwood made good
magic wands, and shells were useful tools in their own right.  A shell or a
rock, charged with her wish and thrown back into the sea most always
brought immediate results.  She had only to ask, and Goddess provided.  Her
loved ones were happier now that she'd had some time at the beach to ask
favors on their behalves.  Her brother was back with his lover.  A friend
had a new apartment which he liked quite well.  She'd managed to get a
raise for herself.  At times, it was almost too easy.  But she knew her
gods, and made sure they knew it was all appreciated.  Her will and ability
might focus to bring the end result, but it was all dependant upon the will
of the gods.

   Sometimes, when she was drawing symbols in the sand, or looking for just
the right piece of shell or reed, she knew the others on the beach were
wondering at what she was doing.  People who lived there had seen such
things often enough to be truly curious.  She let their unasked questions
remain unanswered.  Things were still too dangerous.  They didn't burn
Witches anymore, but in plenty of places these days, Witch still meant
Satanist to the ignorant, and having people think you were anything like
that could get rocks thrown through your windows, or worse.  Best not to
take chances on people being well- educated and open-minded.  Let them
wonder.

   This year, the curiosity came from a troublesome source.  The lifeguards
were living in one of the beachfront houses, sharing it among the handful
of them that guarded the little strip of beach.  Usually they lived nearer
the surfing ground, so that they were closer to the waves when they were
off-duty.  Still, she'd been coming to this little town since she was
small, and sometimes the lifeguards had gotten houses on this part of the
beach.  It was convenient.  She remembered being a teenager, still naive,
but knowing enough of the world and her own senses that she knew how lucky
it was when the lifeguards did live on the beach.  They played where they
lived.  And when they worked there too, it meant tan, athletic,
ocean-loving men around almost 24 hours a day.  A teenage girl could build
wonderful fantasies with no more fodder than that.  Ah, but this year, it
could be a problem.

   She'd been here since the end of last summer.  Writing was her living,
and that was easier for her at the beach.  It had been an easy decision to
scrape together enough for the house.  And when she'd moved, it had been
the first time she'd been at the beach for any length of time since
becoming Pagan.  Last summer had been the first when any significant number
of people had witnessed her curious activities.  No matter, since they'd
all been tourists, visiting for a week at most.  But with the lifeguards
spending most of their time on the beach, she was just waiting for the time
when one (or all) of them would get curious enough about her to bring it up
in conversation.

   Never mind that a few of them watched her activities more for the joy of
watching a beautiful body in a small swimsuit.  Never mind that one of them
had beautiful red-gold hair that looked like fire as the wind whipped
through it.  Never mind that he had a face and body that would have
inspired Greek statuary two millennia before.  Never mind that there wasn't
just one of him, but two...  Identical twins.  A fantasy in itself.  She
had a thing for men with long hair, and doubly so for redheads.  And those
abs, which made her want to scrub her clothes on them....  Ah, well....  It
was a lot like it had been when she was younger.  She could watch, and
hope, and even fantasize (though THAT was a lot more interesting with some
years of experience and knowledge under her belt...).  But unless the world
order changed, the most she could really hope for was a small, subtle
flirtation which wouldn't last a week, or go beyond a few significant
looks. Even with two of them, the odds were still pretty small.  Thinking
about it didn't do anything but get her hot, and she had better things to
do than drool over unattainable men, even if they were that delicious.

   These days, she was spending her free time collecting cast-off gull
feathers, pink pebbles and cowrie-like shells.  The shells were held to be
symbols of sexuality, since they were shaped like a woman's nether lips. 
The pink pebbles were for love and lust.  The feathers were the freedom of
flight, and the power to control one's course on the winds, and as symbols
of air, they would help the winds carry her request to someone who could
help her.  None of those things were common on the beach, and it had taken
her a few days to find enough to suit her purposes.  But finally she was
ready.

   This was to be a spell for a lover.  She knew better than to try to
spell some acquaintance or fantasy man into a relationship.  Trying to
crush another's free will was as close to a sin as a Witch could get.  But
you could send out a call for the right person, and if the time was right,
they would show up.  And it would be about time, too.  She'd been alone for
a long time.  She was only 24, but her last lover had been over 6 years
ago. She was too picky, she knew.  No one had been quite right to really
get serious with.  And if you weren't serious, you certainly weren't having
sex these days.

   But Witches were also inherently sensual and sexual people, never likely
to be called prudes, and she was not exactly the exception to the rule. 
She loved erotic writing.  Movies were also great.  A lot of them still
treated women like objects, but there were enough done by or for women or
couples that she could find some that were great to watch.  Sure, a lot of
it was really off the wall compared to her actual experiences.  She'd only
had one lover, and he'd been downright boring, in retrospect.  Sometimes
she wondered if she was really given the chance, how far into some of her
fantasy scenarios she'd really let herself go.  She wasn't sure she really
wanted to find out.  But she was getting tired of getting herself off after
watching some hot scenes on video, or reading a particularly erotic passage
in one of her favorite stories.

   People said that you always knew how to make sex best for yourself, and
it was a shame your partner could never replicate your own knowledge of
your body's responses.  But that didn't mean that masturbation was the best
sex you could have.  She remembered the feeling of a quick, hard fuck. 
That was the one thing Tommy had been good at.  Ramming into her like he
wanted to pierce her heart.  You couldn't get that with your own fingers or
a dildo.  And you most certainly couldn't lick your own nipples.  At least
she didn't think you could.  Somebody with a lot of spare time might have
accomplished it....

   She needed a man.  She had for years.  And it was getting to the point
where her desire to have a real, live, hard man inside her was driving her
to distraction.  Spontaneous combustion was becoming a real possibility. 
Getting off four or five times a day wasn't helping any.  She could have
all the orgasms she could possibly give herself, and it didn't do anything
to fill the void of having her nether realms stuffed.  So, knowing that
need was the greatest criteria to a strong spell, she was finally ready to
see if she couldn't bring herself a lover who could satisfy years of
pent-up sexual energy.

   The Goddess had her consort, and it was only natural that Her priestess
should have one of her own.  Of course, finding a mortal man to measure up
to the Horned God might not be possible.  But since the word "horny"
sounded like it was probably derived from the Stag King's own name, you
could at least hope there would be a willing and able male ready to answer
the call.

   It was the night of the full moon.  A time for any positive magic.  And
when the moon was at its peak, the magic should be strongest.  She set out
for the beach, making sure to turn out the lights which shone on the beach
in front of the house.  It would be hard enough to avoid discovery and some
difficult questions without having her own lights making her look like she
was on stage for the neighbors.  Especially since this had to be done
skyclad.  She usually worked robed while outside.  Sometimes she went
casual and wore her bikini, as she did when she was collecting things
during the day.  But any ritual involving that much sexual energy would be
more appropriate done in the nude.  She just had to hope that the fact that
none of the nearby houses were currently occupied meant that no one would
happen by to discover and disturb her.

   Just thinking about her future lover had her heart racing.  And the
quickness of her breathing wasn't from the exertion of the quick run down
the stairs to the beach.  The cool night air whisked over her naked body,
caressing the suntanned skin, whipping her long hair around her head.  Her
nipples were hard even without the breeze, and the moisture coming from the
sea was nothing compared to the stream running from between her legs.

   Single-minded to her purpose, she quickly went through the ritual
motions of creating sacred space for the ritual.  It was always easier and
quicker at the beach, just because of what she was.  But her eagerness
pushed her pace even faster, as her mind raced to the images of this future
lover which her imagination supplied.  She moved into the ritual itself,
pouring her desires into her tools.

   Shells, for sexuality, that they bring her a man who knew how to really
pleasure her, touched quickly to her nether realms to gather the juice as
it continued to drip from between her lips.  That would strengthen the
call, and she was going to put everything she had into this working.  The
small pink pebbles.  Pink for love and lust, that her lover be more to her
than a body.  Small pink stones, the color of her nipples, as they hardened
to pink stones themselves, just thinking of the power of the sex her lover
would bring.  Feathers, for the freedom to be herself with him, and for the
strength and power to control where the winds of fate would bring her with
this man.  Soft feathers, soft as her skin where she pulled them across her
body, reveling in the sensation on the sensitive flesh of her breasts,
stomach and thighs.  These things she wrapped in red cloth, cloth dipped
again in her body's own juices, as a regular river flowed onto her thighs.
Tied shut, the bundle was a powerful enchantment ready to be loosed to do
its intended job.  To toss such a charm into the sea was to release its
power into the world, where it would bring about what she desired, if only
the time was right.

   She quickly opened a door in the sacred circle of magic, passing through
with her charm, and dispersing the barrier after her.  A few short steps to
the water.  She could feel the sexual power pulsing from the charm, in time
with her heart beat.  It beat faster now, as she reached the point of
release for her spell.  Her blood pounded in her veins, swelling her
breasts and clit as the hormones of her arousal did their work.  The surf
grasped at her feet, and she took another step, letting it climb her
calves. Now, she paused, the images of flesh-on-flesh filling her mind. 
Her body and soul were filled with wanting, and it was this wanting which
she poured into the charm between her hands.  It wasn't a bundle of cloth,
shells, pebbles and feathers anymore...  it was a living embodiment of her
desire, and she was sending it off into the world to bring her a man. 
Goddess grant her that.  And she hurled it into the sea.

   It sank with a quick pop, and her mind came to the state of clarity that
always came as the ritual energy was released, and she returned to the
normal world.  It was almost like waking from a dream.  Sometimes it took a
moment to come back to normal.  It was a good time to sit and watch the
waves.  So, she sat and watched the waves.  The moon's reflection rested on
the ocean swells.  She lay back and looked up at the moon itself.  It was
beautiful, bright and clear in the dark night sky.  Her hands rested on her
stomach, but the feel of skin on skin was delicious in the night air, and
she began to run her hands across her body, across the flat stomach, around
in slow circles, just enjoying the sensations.  From there, her hand
drifted to her breasts.  Her nipples were still hard from all of the sexual
desire she'd poured into the spell.  Her breasts were swollen with the
increased blood flow, and still very sensitive.  The feel of her hands upon
them was wonderful.  She grasped them from underneath, lifting them
upwards, squeezing them lightly.  That was good.  She squeezed a little
harder.  The sensation aroused her further.  She worked them in her hands,
squeezing and massaging the flesh.

   She imagined a lover doing that to her; big, rough male hands grasping
and massaging her soft breasts.  His lips would trace their way from her
mouth to her chest, and his hands would leave them while his lips took
their place to caress and love her tits.  She continued to massage her
breasts, thinking of the lover who would take a nipple into his mouth,
sucking on it until she writhed beneath him.  She pinched her nipples hard,
knowing he would see her enjoying the sensation of rough handling, and
realize she would really get off on having him bite her nipples lightly. 
Yeah, that was it.  She squeezed and pinched and caressed, and her breasts
began to respond, becoming even more sensitive to the stimulation, the
nipples hard and small like the pebbles in her spell.  Her breathing was
fast now, almost panting.  The sensations were almost too delicious.  Her
hands left her breasts, traveling back down the spanse of curves and soft
skin, grazing over her slender, rounded hips.  As the heel of her palm
pushed against the top of her pubic mound, her head rolled back, her mouth
open in a silent cry of ecstasy.  She could feel the juices still trickling
out of her nether realms and down the inside of her thighs onto the sand.

   She spread her thighs wide.  Her right hand reached down to dip her
fingers into the slick wetness.  Just a touch.  Right over the mouth, not
touching, but close enough that the anticipation only made the stream flow
faster.  She rubbed fingers and thumb together, enjoying the slippery
contact.  Then she reached down again, using her left hand to hold her
nether lips apart.  Starting at the entrance, she slid index and middle
finger into the slick, not into the hole itself, but up to the edge,
stopping to gather the juices there, and then slowly moving upwards,
collecting the wetness until she reached her clit.  Her fingers were
drenched in the stuff, and she began to spread it liberally around the
outside of the sensitive button.

   She traced her fingers around it in ever-narrowing circles, never
touching it, but always closer.  The flow from her hole renewed the supply
of the slick stuff, and she reached down again to gather more with which to
slather her love button.  Finally, she had thoroughly coated her clitoris
in a thick mass of juice.  She moved her left hand higher, holding the
pussy lips apart where they tried to cover her engorged clit.  The lips
themselves were slippery from all of the juice, and as they tried to slip
free of her grasp, the sensation had her throwing her head back again a
silent cry.  She gripped them again, with a little more strength, and
lowered her right hand back to her slit.  The clitoris was drowning in
juice, and she was as ready as she would ever be to bring herself to an
orgasm of historical proportions.

   She worked her way around the clitoris again, circling ever closer to
the focus of the matter.  Finally, she touched it lightly, letting her
slippery fingers graze its surface briefly.  Her knees, hips and back
worked together to respond to the sensation, bowing her whole body upwards
at her hips.  The clitoris was sensitive from all of the anticipation and
preparation, so, slowly and lightly at first, she began to run her fingers
over it.  Her fingers were still slipping around her pubic lips like
wrestlers in a mudbath.  It eased the sensitivity her clit might ordinarily
have had to the delicious friction of her rubbing fingers.  She felt it
harden under her fingertips, swelling out further from under its hood of
skin.  She began to rub harder and faster, knowing it was the design of the
thing to be stimulated by the shaft of a man's penis rubbing up against the
clitoris as they were fucking.  It didn't always work that way when it
really did come down to the fucking, but understanding the principle meant
she knew why the quick, glancing touches worked best to bring her off, and
why it worked even better when the hood or surrounding skin rested between
her fingers and the clitoris itself.

   Her body started to respond to the delicious friction, bowing upwards
with the rhythm it took on when a man fucked a woman with his penis.  It
assisted the screwing action when there was a real man trying to get
himself as far inside her as he could, but here, the reaction was purely
instinctive.  She could do it standing straight up, and her hips would
still jerk forward in their primal rhythm.  She rubbed harder and faster,
the rhythm of her hips speeding up with that of her hand.

   But she knew however much she'd enjoy the simplest of orgasms, there was
nothing to compare with having a man inside her.  And if she couldn't have
that yet, then she still wasn't going to settle for having her cleft
grasping at emptiness.  She released her hold on her nether lips, still
working her clit with her right hand, hips still pumping in rhythm.  Her
left hand, now free, traveled even further downward.  She touched her
opening with her index finger, going just a little inside, enjoying the
sensation from the interior.  Then she added her middle finger, brushing
against the tightness of the opening, and again savoring the sensation. 
Her hips bobbed up and down, still gaining momentum, as she worked her clit
quickly and roughly now.

   She inserted the two fingers deeper into the channel, sliding them all
the way in, pressing on sensitive spots within the walls.  Then she began
to simulate the rhythmic motion of a hard cock, in and out, in and out,
sliding her fingers from the entrance until she felt them hit her cervix,
and back out again.  Along the way, she made sure to touch that special
spot, intensifying the sensation ten-fold.  She was working herself hard
with both hands now, rubbing furiously on her clitoris as her two fingers
fucked into her like a cock.  Her hips jerked wildly in response, going
down on her fingers as they would have a hard cock, rubbing up against her
other hand as they played on her clitoris.  Her breasts stood up as the
blood engorged them, nipples pointing straight toward the moon overhead. 
She bit her lip against the small cries that tried to issue from her
throat, but still she heard them, quiet, for her own ears alone.  Her hand
slid in and out of her nether realms, faster and faster, in time with the
other's movement over her clitoris.  She could feel herself getting close
now.  And still the pace sped up.

   Her cries were audible now, not enough to carry down the beach, but
enough that she no longer had to strain to hear them.  Her hand pumped deep
into her hole, hitting the cervix, and back out again.  In again, and out
again.  Her hand rubbed on her clitoris, so fast she was no longer
conscious of any rhythm or plan to the movements.  Her hips jerked,
slamming her down again and again on her own fingers.  Oh, here it came. 
The fingers pumped roughly in and out.  The fingers rubbed fast enough to
start a fire.  It built and built and built.  It peaked.  Her hand rubbed
so fast she could no longer distinguish one finger from another.  The hand
inside her proclaimed the muscle contraction on its outer surface even as
she felt it begin from within the muscles themselves.  It rolled over the
peak, and started a fast downhill tumble.

   Her hand no longer worked inside her.  It was still, as the muscles
clasped at it again and again, strongly then more weakly.  Her other hand
still rubbed at her clit, carrying the orgasm on as long as it could, still
stimulating the contractions as she held her breath in the ecstasy of the
long downhill roll.  Muscles still clenched at the fingers inside her. 
Then, finally, the contractions died down to a rhythmic murmur from within
her and against the trapped hand, and she stopped rubbing her clitoris. 
Her breathing and heartbeat were racing from the exertion.  Her hips were
sore from the pounding upon the sand.

   She pulled her fingers free from her hole, hearing the slippery sound as
they left the river between her thighs.  Released by the removal of the
pseudo-cock, it raced down onto the sand, leaving a nice big wet spot below
her buttocks as the sand soaked up the liquid.  She lay there in the sand,
eyes still closed, as the high of the orgasm wore off.  Her breasts were
sore from their earlier punishment and from the sensitivity their engorged
state had carried.  The orgasmic rhythm still pounded within them, and from
deep inside her.

   As her mind began to clear from the orgasmic ecstasy, a half- formed
thought appeared: if her spell carried to her a man who could understand
her body and his own well enough to give her that kind of overwhelming
orgasm, while pounding her body with his hard penis, she might never get
another word written.  She would end up spending every moment of the rest
of her life fucking and coming.  And coming and fucking.  And fucking and
coming....

   The thought drifted slowly away as an energy lull hit her.  Fucking and
coming.  A mouth on her breast.  A finger tracing its way up her slit,
through the river of woman's juices.  The images floated through her mind,
projected on the screen at the back of her closed eyelids.  Fucking and
coming.  Her breasts swelled and her nipples hardened again at the thought
and the image.  The flood between her legs picked up again.  Just fucking
and coming.  Her heartbeat sped up again, taking her breathing with it. 
The images were vibrant, almost real.  It had to be the magic working,
drawing her lover to her.  It was magic, as she again felt the mouth on her
breast, the finger working its slow progress up her slit.  She raised her
chest against the loving mouth, pressing it harder against her breast.  And
the sensation was real.

   Her eyes popped open, startled.  She was still in the grips of the
post-orgasmic fugue, and it didn't occur to her to be frightened, only
startled.  As the world outside her body and mind made itself known all at
once, she knew only that the mouth and hand touching here were not fantasy,
but that of human male, as real and physical as she was.  Her eyes finally
focused and her brain made some sense of what they saw.  The mouth suckling
on her naked breast was not visible.  Instead there was a veil of copper
hair which hid the mouth and face, and puddled on her chest.  But she knew
that fiery hair.

   Ah, that was the face of the creature, the intense smoldering look as he
peered out from his hair, upward to lock eyes with her, her nipple still
clenched firmly by his lips.  He sucked lightly upon it, holding her gaze.
Then she felt his teeth graze the hard tip, and he was lost to her sight as
she rolled her head back, enjoying the feeling.  All the while, a finger
continued to stroke her slit, spreading the moisture around.  She moved to
pull the beautiful face toward her, wanting to feel his lips on her own, to
have his tongue thrusting into her mouth.  It was then she noticed that he
had one hand on her other breast, resting there without moving.  As she
took that in, he began to knead her breast with his hand.  His other hand
took up the movement on her other tit, its nipple still worked by his lips,
teeth and tongue.

   She raised up again, pressing her chest against his mouth and hands. 
Her slit mourned the loss of the playing finger.  Her juices still dripped
down onto the sand beneath her.  She wanted him to work all of her at once,
to continue the loving ministrations to her breasts, but also to have him
fill her mouth with his tongue, and her nether realms with his fingers or
cock.  She reached again to pull him towards her face, but her shoulders
were pressed gently back to the sand, and her face aimed towards the sky.
It wasn't the moon that filled her vision then, but a doppleganger, a
double.  The man who even now moved to suckle her other tit, who had always
had both of his hands on her tits, was also looking down on her from above.

   Distracted by her own body's reacting to the loving attention to her
breasts, it took a long moment for her to remember that the Gods had seen
fit to give two men this same face and body.  By then, his lips were
crushed to hers, opening her mouth with his tongue.  She responded
instantaneously, caressing his probing tongue with her own, opening to his
movements.  He took her lips between his, kissing her with a wet,
open-mouthed movement, and again twirling his tongue around hers.  She
reached for him, pulling his face to her own, pressing him to her.  Their
lips locked together, pressing almost cruelly against one another.

   As they pulled free of one another, she held his face for a second,
keeping him from pulling out of reach.  She planted a sweet kiss on each of
his eyelids, and another on his lips.  He gave her a dazzling smile, and
bent to her ear.  "I'm Griffin," he whispered softly, pausing to kiss her
ear.  "My brother is Brendan," he continued.  "And we are both
desperately..." He kissed her jaw.  "...hopelessly..." He mouthed her chin.
"...and enthusiastically..." He pressed his lips to hers, fixed her with
his eyes, and seductively said: "yours."

   She did not know how it had happened, or what it really meant, but it
didn't matter.  There was magic here, but these two were not bespelled.  It
was sea magic, sex magic, and most of all, human magic.  Griffin pulled his
lips from hers, moving toward her feet.  Or rather, her nether regions. 
The extra hand had been his, and he was returning to finish the job he'd
started.  Brendan worked his way up her chest using his tongue to caress
the soft skin.  When he finally reached her lips, he sank quickly into the
slow, deep kissing his twin had performed.

   There were definite differences, she could already see.  Brendan's hand
still clasped her left breast, massaging it lightly.  Obviously breasts
were his favorite thing about a woman's body.  His kisses were softer and
sweeter than his brother's.  His lips and tongue didn't demand, they
coaxed. He didn't invade, but requested an invitation.  It was an easy way
to lose oneself in the sense experience.  It seemed like they had been
kissing for hours, and neither of them were even beginning to be bored with
the interplay of lips and tongues.  And his hands still caressed her
breasts, working the nipples with his thumbs until they were solid little
nubs under his touch.

   She might have lost herself to his kisses, but Griffin obviously had
other things in mind.  His fingers began to caress her slit again, roving
up and down, carrying the moisture around, drenching what little of her sex
wasn't already soaked.  He probed lightly into the very edge of the opening
with his fingers, making her arch up to meet his hand.  He withdrew them,
giving her a quick, light pinch on the rear to let her know he wanted to
have free reign with his exploration and torment.  He pulled her nether
lips apart with one hand, using the other to lift her clitoris for his
inspection.  He didn't pinch her when her hips rode up again, knowing she
couldn't help it.  He poked two fingers into her opening again, inserting
them an inch or more into the hole, then spreading them wide, stretching
her opening as wide as he could without hurting her, and peering inside.

   Brendan continued his slow, soft kisses, and she finally managed to
split her attention between the two sets of sensations.  Griffin's
examination continued, as he replaced his fingers with his tongue.  The
taste-test was obviously a success, as he began to eagerly suck and lap at
her juices, collecting the overflowing liquid with his tongue.  He covered
her clit and as much of her sex as he could with his mouth, sucking softly
while stroking her clit with his tongue.  Her hips were no longer fighting
to stay on the sand, but rising rhythmically as his tongue worked her clit.
She groaned into Brendan's busy mouth when the mouth left her sex.  Brendan
worked with hands, tongue and lips to divert her attention from the loss.
But it wasn't necessary.

   Griffin had two fingers at her opening again.  This time, they entered,
but didn't stop their progress into her hole until his fingertips hit her
cervix.  He probed around inside her with his fingers, making her squirm in
pleasure as he located her g-spot and a few minor pleasure points.  Brendan
held her pinned to the sand with his own weight on her chest, otherwise the
thrashing Griffin was inducing might have tossed Brendan clear off of her.
He wasn't going to let that happen, and redoubled his efforts at pleasuring
her with his hands, lips and tongue.  Between the two of them, they had her
moaning.

   Brendan kissed and probed at her mouth, and caressed her wonderful
breasts.  Griffin explored her opening, first with his fingers, then with
his tongue.  She'd almost thrown them both off when he'd inserted his
tongue into her.  He worked it inside of her like a miniature penis,
thrusting in and out, in and out, trying to poke all of the little pleasure
spots in the outer part of her opening.  He held her legs down, spread wide
apart on the sand, diving his tongue into her juicy hole while she writhed
under him and his twin.  She was panting now, moaning with the pleasure
that he was inducing with his tongue.  Brendan had given up on continuing
his own oral interchange, and went back to work on her tits with his mouth
and hands.

   Her breathing worked to push her tits up toward his hands and mouth.  He
knew she wanted a little rough treatment, and he obliged.  His soft
caresses took on a passion and urgency, discarding any pretense at
gentleness or reserve.  He squeezed her breasts hard.  She moaned.  Not in
pain, but pleasure.  He pinched her nipples.  Her panting increased.  He
bit on the rock-hard tips.  Lightly at first, then harder.  She pressed her
chest even harder against his mouth.  Griffin worked her sex with his mouth
and hands now.  Three fingers caressed her from the inside now, while his
tongue and lips worked her clitoris, keeping her hips arching rhythmically
in small quick movements.  The hand inside her was drenched in her fluids.
Her clit was swollen to twice the size it had been when he'd first started
playing with her.  He knew she was more than ready.

   continued in seawitch2.txt