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From: Carrie Withheld <kittenness@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Mermaid's Tale F-solo voy
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Date: Thu, 10 Aug 2006 13:10:01 -0400
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by Carrie (W)

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<1st attachment, "MermaidsTale" begin>

A Mermaids Tale

   We had made love that evening.  That frantic, hungry, animalistic
passion when you throw all inhibitions to the wind.  That special frenzied
love which you can only make on vacation.  "Monkey Love" he calls it,
although I don't recall any actual swinging from the rafters.  Now deep in
a euphoric coma, he was peaceful.  I was not.

   Some good friends of ours, knowing that we were as church mice had
invited us to spend the week vacationing with them at their family's
lakeside cottage.  The cottage was designed as a party house, with a huge
kitchen and social area, one small bedroom which our friends used, and a
loft.  The side of the cottage facing the lake was solid glass, and the
view was simply spectacular from everywhere.

   On this night, in the middle of a national heat wave, that steady breeze
blowing gently in from the lake had stopped moving.  The cottage was not
air conditioned and I lay sticking to the sheets in my own sweat, (and
his). One a.m.  One fifteen.  One thirty-seven.  I couldn't believe how
incredible hot I was.  One fifty-eight.  Two eleven.  I could not get my
eyes to stay closed.  Two twenty-four a.m.  I looked at the moon light
reflected on a near mirror surface of the lake.

   In the dark I found my shorts, but no panties, his tank top (not too
icky) and my flip-flops.  I climbed down the ladder nearly silently, and
managed to slip through the door to the deck without waking anyone. 
Outside was just a little cooler than the loft, but I was still so feverish
I wondered if I was really coming down with something.

   I walked down the path to the little boat dock listening to the
stillness of the night.  No parties raged into the wee hours, no cars wound
along a nearby road.  Even the woodland creatures seemed to have call it a
night.  Abandoning my flip-flops I sat down on the dock and dangled my toes
in the water.

   It was cold!  I don't know what the actual temperature of the lake water
was, but relative to the sweltering 95 plus air, and my internal thermostat
of a bizzillion, the water felt just this side of ice.

   I pulled back and let my feet hover just above the surface.  They felt a
little better.  And then it dawned on me, didn't they put patients with
high fevers in an ice bath to bring their fever down?  What I needed was a
bath!  But going back in the house was out to the question, I'd wake
everyone by running a bath.  And right here in front of me was this hugh
cool body of luxurious water, all ready to drain the heat from my body.

   Almost simultaneously I knew what needed to be done, I knew that it was
naughty, and I knew that because it was naughty I would do it.  I rose very
slowly, surreptitiously looking over both shoulders while attempting not to
look suspicious.  I crept back into the shadow of a tree, and casually
surveyed all in sight.  Convinced I was alone, I slipped the tank top over
my head.  Another careful glance around me revealed no other presence, and
yet I couldn't shake the feeling, or was it a wish, that I was being
watched.  Without looking I flipped the button at my waist and pushed my
shorts past my hips.

   Standing naked before God I had some particularly non holy feelings.  My
heart pounded, my bottom tingled and my nipples and clit all stood at
attention.  I shivered in exaltation.  Wading nervously into the water I
was disappointed when steam totally failed to boil up as my burning skin
met the water.  In fact as my legs sunk deeper into the frigid lake I
wondered if this is how Kate Winslet felt when Leonardo DiCaprio sank into
the North Atlantic.  I scrunched my toes in the gooey lake bed, and tried
not to think about what I was standing in.  When the surface of the water
lapped against my labia I began to doubt the wisdom of my action.  I
decided not to risk stepping on a beer can, and not to prolong the agony, I
plunged forward.

   At first, I paddled quietly, holding my head out of the water, not
wanting to disturb the silence with a splash.  As my whole body developed
an ice cream headache I knew it was time to go all the way.  I dropped my
face in the water and swam.  It felt wonderfully erotic, and I wished that
he had come along.  The cool touch of the water stroked every part of my
skin.  Endorphins flowed through my bloodstream sweeping me into a
gloriously erotic high.

   After a few minutes, my body reminded me that it was nearly three in the
morning.  I turned and headed back to the dock.  Once there I looked around
carefully, making sure no one was peeking at me in the darkness.  A little
disappointed that all was clear, I pulled myself up onto the wooden
platform.

   The air was still heavy and I decided I should lie back, and let myself
dry off a little before heading back to the cottage.  The stars twinkled in
the clear summer sky.  My body was cooler now, but soul was once again hot
and bothered.  My hands slipped across my bare tummy, feeling the chill of
the water still clinging there, reminding me of our earlier amorous
encounter.

   Impulsively my mind drifted back through his scent, his taste, his
touch. Someone's fingers found my nipple, were they mine or the memory of
his?  I moaned aloud as a hand stroked my naked hip, and danced across my
pelvis.  Greedy little fingers impishly imitating his cock, ravishing my
throbbing pussy.  A bite of fingernails on my inflamed nipple; oh, those
must have been mine!  My hips pulsed involuntarily, as my body vainly
attempted to swallow itself in orgasm.

   My ethereal lover evaporated in my bliss, leaving me peaceful, if just a
little short of breath.  Gently I rubbed my smoldering pussy.  I wanted to
keep that feeling for ever.  Gently my eyes closed as I was embraced in
starlight.

   I woke very slowly.  The world was a serene and milky mixture of early
morning light and thick fog.  The thick smell of algae and my own sex
filled me, and I smiled remembering that I was on vacation and could roll
over and go back to sleep.  I purred comfortably, then I heard another
purr. It was drifting away from me, like the engine of a small boat.  Then
I heard a voice, a small childlike voice in a conspiratorial whisper that
drifted in the morning fog as if it were right next to me.  "Grandpa," said
the voice, "if the mermaid is still there when we get back can we keep
her?"

   I smile at the thought of a little boy and his grandpa catching a
mermaid while fishing.  How pleased the boy would be, and how shocked his
Grand Ma when they brought her home.  Then I sat bolt up, eyes wide;
dismayed.  In the creamy fog I could just make out the shadow of a small
boat puttering away from the dock where I lay.
   

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	<1st attachment end>

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-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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