As I drove hard into her, a thought came to mind. If there were such a thing as a mermaid, a siren who made men insane and brought them to their deaths, I was willingly fucking one.
For the first time, I lowered my head and I kissed her. I didn’t kiss, generally, it was an intimacy that I didn’t attach to simply fucking. At first she returned the kiss gently, then she became more aggressive. As she gripped the back of my head and our tongues fought for dominance, she came again.
She bucked her hips off the sand and I fucked her even harder. Every muscle across my back, shoulders, and down my arms as I held myself above her, strained. Sweat dripped from my forehead, pasting her hair to hers. Finally, I came. I wanted to roar out, to mark and claim her. I wanted to punch the sand beside our bodies, such was the intensity and the cramping in my stomach as my balls emptied inside her. I didn’t think I’d come as much ever before. It was an endless rolling wave over my body as my release dragged on.
I realised then, for the first time, I’d made love to someone. As I continued to stare at her, I knew it was the same for her.
* * *
We swam in silence, letting the water wash our bodies and, for me certainly, thinking about what had happened. There was something about Laura that had captivated me, yet I knew nothing would come of this experience. This was a one-weekend deal only. In fact, she was so changeable, Laura could walk from the sea and head back the house without acknowledging me further, I imagined. I laughed, realising I didn’t care. Albeit short, I’d had the best sex that morning.
“Are you curious about what I do here?” Laura said, swimming beside me.
“I am.”
“I just play. I toy with the men getting them hot and then denying them what they want. Is that really mean?”
“I guess if it’s consensual, then no,” I replied. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, her legs around my waist. “Why me, then?” I added.
She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, actually. From the minute I saw you, something clicked.” She laughed. “So clichéd.”
“Not really.”
I raised my hand and gently pushed hair from her cheek. I didn’t miss the flinch and it pained me. I held her head and while she clung to me, I kissed her again, gently, lovingly, wantingly.
What I felt about Laura fell into place in that moment, for me. She toyed with men, revengefully so. She flinched when touched. Yet she had looked at me so trusting when I’d made love to her, whether she understood the difference or not. She had kissed me passionately and gently but with feeling. It was madness, totally dumb that I could feel anything in such a short space of time.
But I’d lost my heart to the girl in the purple wig with the fuck-me high heels.
