So Wrong (the collected pornographica of Elsie)

The vibrations between my legs, combined with the gentle rolling of the Atlantic swell, was making me crazy. My cunt drooled, my clit throbbed. On the little screen, the people dutifully fucked. I had the clip memorized by now, I knew every second of it by heart. In a moment, he was going to flip her over onto her hands and knees, shove her face into the pillow, and the camera would zoom in on his cock and her ass. If I let the vibrator touch my clit, I was going to explode. I wasn’t quite ready yet though. As he flipped the blonde girl over, I paused the video. My cunt was sopping. I spread some lube on my plug, and slipped it right up my ass. Now I was ready. I unpaused the video, and as he pounded her pussy from behind, slapping her perfect ass in time with his thrusts, I surrendered, pressing the buzzing vibrator against my clit, and just like magic it set me off. I came hard and loud. And why shouldn’t I? I was alone, nothing but blue water and a few seagulls. Fuck it, I was going to come just as loud and long and as often as I wished.

And that may have been the first time I saw him. As I rolled lazily over, extracting the steel plug from my still clenching backside, I glanced out the window, and as sun glinted off the waves, I saw what at the time I thought was a seal, head poking up above the waves, and for just a second, our eyes met. And then he was gone.

I got the houseboat because I did not want to hear about the latest atrocities in Ukraine or Gaza. Or how much more ice had melted in Greenland, how much more the glaciers had retreated. Or especially who won the next election.

I was anchored about 6 miles north of Spruce Point, just within sight of land. No lights, no roads, no neighbors, just a barren stretch of rocky coastline. I liked it just fine. Once a month or so, I’d take the dinghy down to the marina at Spruce Point and stock up on groceries and sundries. Twice a year I’d drive the houseboat all the way down the coast and fill up the diesel and fresh water tanks.

It had been over six weeks since I’d last done a grocery run. I was way overdue for some fresh vegetables. And possibly, just possibly, some dick. The pickings were fairly slim in Spruce Point, but there was always the possibility of a stray tourist. While Battery-Operated-Boyfriends are great and all, don’t get me wrong, sometimes a girl craves a little variety.

The last time I was in town, I had hit on something. Something quite good, as a matter of fact. He was from out of town, I thought I had detected a faint Southern drawl, but I didn’t know anything about him other than his first name. He was the first likely looking face that had popped up on the app, and ten minutes after matching, we were having a drink together at the one outdoor café with a view of the water, and fifteen minutes after that, we were back in his room at the b&b, busily getting naked. He was cute. He may have been a little younger than me, I’m not sure. He had a nice trim body, without being a muscle boy. He was polite, he was respectful, he was horny but not too aggressive. He was clean and trim. He had a very nice dick.

He ate pussy like a starving man. Was he married? It was entirely possible, we had both left our backstories pretty vague during the small talk phase. Holy mackerel, though! His mouth between my legs, his face in my cunt, the things his fingers and his tongue did to me! I returned the favor, lavishing attention on his pretty cock, licking and kissing and nibbling and sucking him until he was quite literally moaning and begging me for release.

Fortunately, he had condoms, because if not, we would have both missed out on the main course.

I wanted him to fuck me in the ass, and I told him so, in no uncertain terms. “Anal?” You might say, “On a first date with a strange dude?” Well, it was what I wanted, what I craved, and this encounter was all about my pleasure.

He was more than willing, he used plenty of lube, he was gentle but not timid, and when his pretty sizeable erection was firmly lodged deep in my ass, we both kind of lost it. He finally let go, fucking my ass hard and deep, which immediately triggered the most powerful orgasm, which in turn set him off, and sent me surfing on resonant waves of pleasure. When it was all done, and we had disentangled from each other, we were sticky, relaxed, and pleasantly high on endorphins. I borrowed his shower, and got on with my grocery shopping, my needs sated for another month or so. There was no question of staying in touch, though I confess there had been moments over the last few weeks when I found myself wishing I had asked for his phone number or email.

No matter, there are plenty of fish in the sea. I found I was pleasantly wet and tingly from replaying our encounter as my little dinghy splashed through the waves, and I had more or less decided to see what kind of luck I might have fishing for a little action in between today’s chores. Still no service on my cell phone, I usually didn’t get a single bar until I was tied up at the dock.

Something was off, I could tell even before I brought my little boat cautiously in.

The marina was empty. I mean empty. I’d never seen it like that, even in the middle of winter. Not one single boat was parked at the docks. The power was out, the diesel tanks were empty. There was nobody around. It was spooky.

I walked up the road, about half a mile, into the little downtown area. Deserted. I started to get the creeps big time. There were no cars. The café and the gas station were burned to the ground. At the grocery store, all the windows were smashed out, and the big glass doors were shattered. I checked my cell phone again. Zero bars. That was enough for this girl, whatever had gone down, I wanted no part in it. I got the flock back to my little motor launch, and headed back home. The whole way back to the houseboat I felt like I was being followed. And maybe I was.

I felt better back at the houseboat. I had plenty of supplies, the water tanks were half full and food was plentiful if not very exciting. My batteries would last a good long time if I was careful, and the solar panels on the roof would help. I don’t think I’d turned on my Coast Guard radio but once, when I bought the boat, just to make sure it worked. Now I switched it on and scanned the channels. Nothing but static, the background him of the big bang.

Well, ok then, apparently that’s how it’s going to be.

A storm blew in that night. I love storms on the water, and the weather up here is notoriously tempestuous. I’m fairly protected here in the cove from the really big ocean waves, but the fact is, alone on a small boat on the water in a storm is a dangerous place to be. I wasn’t particularly scared, although maybe I should have been.

I had sort of started to masturbate, just with my fingers, because that is what I do when it storms at night, and because I was still horny from thinking about my last encounter; but I hadn’t been able to take it anywhere because the world seemed to have ended in the interval and instead of thinking about cunts and pretty cocks, my mind kept circling back to burned-out buildings and broken windows.

Something changed with the rhythm of the waves. I felt it. When you live for a while on a boat this size, you develop an immediate sense for the craft and its sound and its movement. With a certainty that froze my chest, I knew that I was not alone.

He slipped through the door into my bedroom, which was in the bows of the houseboat. He was roughly human in size and contour, but it was very obvious that he was not human. I don’t know why, but I was not afraid, not at all. His skin was blue and covered in tiny iridescent scales, and while he had bright blue eyes that reminded me of deep ocean water, he also possessed a variety of fins and a distinct lack of lips or a nose.

It was very obvious what he wanted, and I wanted it too, badly. It would have been obvious by the way his eyes were fixed on me, the purposeful way he moved. What made it even more obvious was the erection jutting out from between his legs, shiny and smooth as mother-of-pearl.

I wanted him, I wanted him so badly it hurt. I threw off the sheets, spreading my legs wide to welcome him into my bed. My pussy gushed, a warm, slippery river of wetness. My nipples were stiff and hard, straining out toward him, aching for his touch. My skin felt electric.

He reached the bed, and enveloped me like an ocean wave. His mouth covered my own, breathing his spirit into me. His flesh was cool as the Atlantic current. He had arms and legs like a man, though his limbs ended in webbed flippers, but he also had tentacles, I’m not sure how many, but they were soft and tender, covered in small suction cups, and they enveloped me, pulling me into him, gently stroking, grasping, probing every inch of my body. I felt his tendrils on my ears, my nose, wrapped softly around my throat, slipping into my anus, teasing my cunt, and I surrendered completely.

I was so relaxed and excited that his cock, and it was an extremely large specimen, slid right up inside me. He held me tight in his arms, still kissing me deeply, while tentacles penetrated my ass, sucked my nipples, restrained my ankles and my wrists. He was fucking me now, and I was meeting him, thrust for thrust, each of us taking the utmost pleasure from each other’s body.

I don’t normally come just from having a cock fuck my cunt, but this was different. The wildness, the lust of the bizarre situation, the stimulation from all those tentacles, the way I was gently but firmly restrained, and most of all, the thrusting action of his cock invading and stretching me, it set me off. I came, screaming into his watery mouth, and I felt him orgasm at the same time, flooding my cunt to overflowing with his pearly seed.

He retreated, as quickly and silently as he had come, and I passed into a dreamless sleep.

The storm passed overnight, and there was still nothing but static on the Coast Guard radio. I might have written of the night’s encounter as a particularly bizarre erotic dream, if it weren’t for the undeniably large wet spot om my bed, the pleasantly sore feeling of my cunt, and the suction-cup marks sprinkled liberally all over my body.

I made coffee with powdered milk, and contemplated the waves and the empty seascape around me.

It didn’t take long, it was later that same day in fact, that the changes started happening. My breasts were heavy and tender, and my cunt closed tight as a clamshell while my belly started to swell, bulging like a volleyball, with the skin stretched tight, and movement inside me like a hive full of bees.

The pregnancy lasted a little over a week. I stopped eating and drinking, I stayed in bed all day as my abdomen became more and more enormous. It wasn’t unpleasant, not at all, I was in a semi-euphoric daze most of the time, half asleep and half awake, constantly sexually aroused but unable or unwilling to orgasm.

Finally, I instinctively knew it was time. The morning sun bathed my naked body, glinting off the waves. Did I see a face out there in the water? I’m not sure. I started stroking my slit, which had been sealed up tight since the night of the encounter, and I felt myself opening up, I felt my juices flowing. I stroked my clit, letting my fingers probe inside my cunt, fucking myself with my own fingers, my legs spread wide. My tits shook as I came, and milk sprayed out, squirting all over my own body and the bedsheets as my cunt spasmed violently, and waves of pleasure shook my body through and through.

The tiny baby octopi slipped out of my gasping cunt. One, two, three, a dozen, several dozen, hundreds, maybe thousands of them. They slurped up my spilled milk, and skittered quickly away, instinctively finding their way across the deck, through the scuppers, out into the ocean.

I watched, silent and content, as the last of my offspring disappeared beneath the waves, headed out to populate the world.