Bending into the wind, Finn Cameron cursed steadily under his breath. He was well aware that he had had one whiskey too many and his cock quivered between his legs, aching and aroused because that little bitch Bridget O'Malley had given him a good feel of those big pendulous tits of hers but been adamant about allowing him no egress to whatever lay between those plump thighs. Heavy and warm in his hands, the hard rubbery nubs of her teats had driven him mad with lust. He had taken her little hand and tried to at least coax her to give his prick a rub, but squealing, she had slapped his hands away and run giggling back into the dance.
Frustrated and angry, he had slammed out of the ceidlh and headed home. What he hadn't anticipated was the gale force winds and driving rain that even now was making him breathless. Not for the first time, he wondered if he was a fool to keep the little cottage so far from town and so close to the sea.
But as his strong legs drew him close to home, the rich, salty smell of the ocean managed to send tendrils of scent through the driving rain, and stopping for a moment, Finn drew that familiar, beloved scent deep into his lungs. The wind buffeted the tousled fair hair, tangled and curly hanging to shoulders, the stormy grey eyes closed. The wind blew a little less hard and for a moment the full moon sent a silvery glow which lighted his way. Clouds, roiling and dark, scudded across its dulcet surface, creating twisting shadows and lending a softness to the sparse vegetation and wind-burned heather which clung tenaciously to the rolling hills.
He was near the cliff now, a path his feet could take him safely through whether he was blind drunk or exhausted from a hard day pulling nets and fighting the sea for sustenance. Standing on the precipice which loomed over his small home, Finn allowed the wind to flirt and push, sending softer fingers now to curl beneath the muscular arms, the strong, thick thighs and to slap gently against weathered cheeks.
The clouds cleared for a moment, pushed by eddies of a dying storm and the moon shone rich and full, illuminating the restless water below. Despite being clouded with drink, Finn's eyes searched the ocean below, taking in the eddies and flow, the white foam flecked waves and the slap of water against the rocky beach, rhythmic and mesmerizing, as familiar and dear to him as his own breath.
Dark bobbing heads and a wild cry like a woman's scream startled him for a moment, until, grinning at his own befuddlement, Finn took in the dark heads of seals bobbing close to shore. He wondered if his own pretty pet was out among them, and following a whim, began to scramble down the rocky path to the beach.
Finn knew the other fisher folk would jeer. Seals and fisher folk were not always the best of friends, each seeing the other as a potential rival for the sometimes uncertain bounty of the sea. But Finn, secretly, had an affinity for the cheeky, sleek animals with their long intelligent heads and darkly lashed eyes. He would pause in the battered scow of his boat and watch them for a moment, admiring their athletic and sleek muscled bodies and the grace they exhibited as they bobbed and dived just feet away from his puttering vessel. One bold seal in particular had become almost a pet. Finn called it a "her" but wasn't quite certain – he knew her because unlike the dark brown soulful eyes of the other seals, this one had some form of genetic abnormality and the big, dark lashed eyes were light.
She always seemed to be around when he was out, barking and flirting, flipping a bold tail and leaping in a graceful arc from the waves when he threw her a fish. He admittedly found it a little odd sometimes because occasionally the look in those unusually beautiful eyes would disconcert with the intelligence which seemed to shine from them.
Stumbling but somehow keeping his balance, Finn made it to the beach. Down here in the sheltering arms of the cliff which loomed above, the wind's force was muted. He stopped for a moment, feeling woozy. The crash of the waves slapping against the shore was loud now that he was so close, the pounding of the surf echoing off the grey rock. The barking of the seals, wild and forlorn caught his attention. Squinting, Finn tried to peer through the murk as he heard stones rattling and the sound of something dragging.
In the sky above, the full moon shone full on the tiny bay as clouds scudding across its surface cleared.
Finn could see a black mass at the far end of the beach, a mass which seemed to move and writhe but drink and night clouded his normally keen eyes and he couldn't quite make out what it was.
A heavy storm cloud roiled in the night sky, obscuring the bright silver glow of light and defeating any chance he had of making out what was occurring at the other end of the small beach.
Shaking his head, Finn thought he caught a glimpse of something pale. Stumbling on the uneven sandy soil, he tried to tread carefully as he wound his way to the far end to investigate.
Then, out of the murk, a figure, insubstantial, ghostly, seeming to almost float, suddenly appeared. His ears full of the monotonous compelling sound of surf, the muted whistle of wind rubbing soft lips against his face, Finn wondered for a moment whether he had indeed drank far too much.
Feeling foolish, because after all, it was 1 o'clock in the morning on a goddam bloody stormy night, who in the name of God would be about except himself?
Unbelieving, Finn watched as a figure glided towards him, pale and curved, skin glowing translucent in the gloom, illuminated briefly as scudding clouds cleared and the full moon's sibilant light shone down.
She was tall and almost painfully slender with long sleek muscled limbs. Dense, black hair, lustrous and glossy even in the night snapped around her fine boned face, dominated by huge eyes, which even at this short distance were oddly compelling. Her breasts were small firm mounds on a narrow chest, with swollen dark nipples, tip tilted and delicious. Except for the sweep of hair which snapped and flew around her head, spilling over narrow shoulders and masking for a moment the delectable breasts, the girl was completely smooth. The soft mound of her sex, a plump vee between the long narrow thighs was completely naked yet unmistakably adult.
"Jesus, Mary and Holy Saint Joseph, sweet one, what in the name of God are you doing out here at this time of night?"
Finn felt heat suffice his face as he took in the nude figure. Nude women were not a common occurrence on the windswept beaches of the Orkneys, that was for damn sure.
A practical man, he immediately wondered if perhaps a ship had foundered and then the thought there might be others arrowed into his drink-fuddled mind.
"Are there more of you?" he asked roughly, his fisherman's instinct taking over.
"Did your boat founder in the storm?"
The girl glided up to him on small, neat feet, her small breasts moving slightly, the midnight hair almost alive in the dying gasp of the storm. Coming to him, still not saying a word, the girl reached her hand out and gently patted his cheek.
Finn flinched. Her hand was cool with an undertone of warmth and the great eyes, luminous and a stormy grey/green caught his own in an endless gaze. He forgot for a moment to breathe, a part of his brain noting the hand which touched him was cool but not wet, that the hair which now whipped across his face carried on its silken strands the endless rich smell of the ocean, pungent and rich and to a man of his ilk, intoxicating.
The girl stepped closer and against his chest, despite the layer of flannel, he felt the heat of her breasts, the nubs of her nipples seeming to burn holes into his chest.
His prick, which had begun to subside, suddenly seemed to spark awake. Her warmth seemed to reach out to him, her scent wild and rich invaded his senses. The girl's eyes darkened as she seemed to smell his arousal, and opening the lush mouth, she emitted a low growl which sent tentacles of pure lust spiralling down his nerve endings.
Helplessly, unaware he was doing so, Finn stepped forward, his arms encircling the warm body. His groin felt heavy and aching, his prick an iron bar strangled in the stuff of his pants. Her skin was incredibly smooth and sleek, soft and cool, with an intoxicating bubbling of warmth like a little furnace underneath.
He ran work calloused hands down a sweep of back, to the small firm buttocks; leaning slightly, he cupped the firm cheeks and pulled her close to him, rubbing his swollen groin against her. She clung to him and tilting that fine boned head, her warm lips caught his in a clinging kiss.
She tasted of salt and musk and clean astringent sweetness. Her straight midnight hair trailed silkily across his face as he deepened the kiss, his tongue probing the delicious mouth deeply. His prick, still in its tight prison, throbbed against the warm, flat belly.
He realized that she was making soft trilling sounds, provocative and enticing, thrumming against his tongue. Her long slender fingers were at his chest and suddenly he felt the buttons pop and cool wind for a moment then soft, firm breasts hot against the fur of his chest. Finn groaned as the hot swollen tips seemed to pulse against his skin and somehow, he realized his shirt was off and his bare chest was pressed hard against her.
Finn had lost awareness of his surroundings; had he been aware he would have been amazed as the wind died down, the cool silvery moon raining down twilight light on the frantic couple grappling on the sandy beach. Offshore, dark heads bobbed, eerily silent as large, dark lashed eyes watched the struggle onshore.
The girl's fingers fumbled at the button of his pants. Releasing his frantic clinging lips from hers for a moment, Finn stepped back and tore at the waistband, ripping it open, then unzipping and pushing them to his feet. Shaking his leg, he kicked the pants off, not caring where they lay.
He stood for a moment, drinking in the girl's naked glory. Her hair roiling and dancing around her head, the great eyes, glazed and filled with lust, the breasts heaving, their tips swollen. In the bright moonlight, Finn could see a glistening trail of arousal creeping down her thigh, and his prick throbbed almost painfully. He stood, tall, rugged, wide shouldered and narrow hipped, his prick long and thick, its hooded head glistening and uncovered, crimson and almost angry looking.
The girl's eyes met his, her gaze hot and fervid and Finn's felt himself swell even more. He wasn't sure if she moved forward or whether he did, but suddenly their two naked bodies were pressed tightly to one another.
The girl's long sleekly muscled arms went around his thick neck, and then with an odd little skip, the long slender legs were suddenly clasped around his waist. Finn stood, swaying, her slight weight an easy welcome burden. His swollen prick probed roughly between the straddled legs, pushing into the long glistening slit. His strong teeth nipped at the long neck, almost drawing blood and the girl gave a scream of pure animal lust. Her hips swung against him and with a long exquisite thrust, Finn sank his prick up into her clinging folds.
She was hot, incredibly wonderful, wetly hot and clinging. His prick almost felt too big, swollen and hard, pushing aside red glistening folds and pushing up, until he could feel his heavy testicles slapping against her hot wet cunt.
Yelling, allowing her to hang from the knotted muscles of his neck and shoulders, he released the firm buttocks and dug his strong fingers into the slender hips. Holding tight, he began to pull his swollen cock out, only to helplessly thrust back, pushing it deep within her swollen folds, the feel of her a vice around his throbbing prick, his balls tight and aching.
Leaning, her captured with his lips the tip of one swollen breast, hot and hard and rubbery, suckling, while his hips thrust in a regular, hot rhythm back and forth, up, deep, wanting to cleave her in two, feel his prick burst out through her throat.
His legs began to tremble, and his hands went down around the hot firm cheeks of her ass, holding her close, as ignoring the sharp gritty sand, he fell to his knees, her long legs clinging tightly to his waist, his prick buried deep within her.
The girl lay back against the sand, oblivious to any discomfort, her legs wrapped tight around the man's strong waist. Her hair spilled around her head, a midnight spill of silken pleasure, the great stormy eyes captured his, entangling his own hot gaze with hers, her mouth moist and open, her fine nose flaring as her chest heaved.
Bracing himself, Finn now had the leverage he craved. Her cunt was clinging and hot, tight so that he had to really push, really thrust to get its entire swollen length up its hot glistening sheath. For a moment, he pulled back, frightened he was hurting her, but the purring undertone increased, and lithely, the girl's drumming feet pushed into his flexing buttocks, pushing him deeper within her.
Her slender hips rose each time he slightly withdrew, her long wet gash rubbing up against his swollen length, the hooded clit protruding from between slender, swollen labia whose normally pale skin was flushed and blushing with arousal.
Leaning, Finn captured her delectable mouth with his own, unbelievably aroused by the hot salty taste of her delicious mouth; it tasted like the clean sweet astringent wind dancing over waves, the sweetness of hot sizzling fish frying in a pan on an early morning as the nets fill and hot milky coffee which sends tendrils of life into frozen veins.
His prick felt as it were on fire. He could feel his heart thumping, the heavy balls tightening as the hot molten sperm gathered. He felt an atavistic need to plow, to impregnate, to dominate and fuck this beautiful female, this sweet, exquisite creature who had come out of the night to capture him.
His breath whistled in a frantic throat, matched by her own frenzied breathing and as he watched, the great eyes went opaque and around his already tightly enclosed member he felt her tighten even further, to the point of exquisite pain and then he felt her release and a gush of hot liquid soaked his pistoning groin and the contractions had him, squeezing and tightening and loosening and tightening again, nipping the hot swollen tip of his prick, seeming to suck at its spongy tip, the winking eye spitting a clear steam of precum deep within her ...
And he was lost.
His balls tightened right up into his groin, he felt their aching fullness and then needling through his prick, he felt the hot sperm erupting up the long swollen shaft, to explode and almost painfully assault the throbbing womb, strings of hot molten slashing against her cervix, thrusting harshly, strongly, helplessly against the sucking hot depths. Between his legs he felt a throbbing achiness as his balls tightened and spat their creamy cargo up the thrusting prick deep into her essence.
His mind shut down and became a mindless sweep of orgasmic pleasure, a dark wave of elation that overwhelmed and shut out everything else. His hips thrust, once, twice again, slapping against the hot sweet cunt, emptying his seed, staking his claim, his woman, his sweet darling female.
Finn's prick seemed to spit and throb for an eternity. As the hot streams of creamy essence flooded her tight hot folds, it felt as if his very soul was being dragged into her with their throbbing release. A hot wet stream soaked the wiry hair of his groin and he realized, panting, that the little darling had cum again.
Panting heavily, Finn braced his arms and looked down.
The beauty gazed up at him, eyes hot yet oddly vulnerable, open with the innocence of release and pleasure. His hips locked tightly to her, the last weak spurts making his hips push weakly now against the sweet, sucking cunt, Finn watched a red flush sweep up from the pale swollen breasts, darkening the glowing skin and pinking pale cheeks.
Leaning, he captured the mobile mouth, breathing his own whisky laden breath into its warmth and sweet moistness. Then releasing her lips reluctantly, he hunched slightly and gently lipped a swollen nipple, tugging gently with soft lips.
His prick, though empty, still felt swollen and he had a strange reluctance to disengage. In a smooth motion, Finn fell to one side, rolling to his back, his arms cupping her shoulders, his strong thighs capturing her narrow hips, keeping his still stiff cock deep within her clinging folds. He brought her slight weight over himself, feeling guilty for having shoved her soft back down against the grainy sand.
Stinging, small particles poked his back, but with the soft armful and that glorious hair falling like a black waterfall over his face, he was content.
He held her close, clasped tight to his own warm body, nuzzling the fragrant neck, feeling a deep atavistic contentment at the smell of her, a sweet, astringent mixture of salt and clean water and an underlying musk that as he closed his eyes and breathed it in, made his prick stir deep within its sweet prison.
The girl lifted her fine boned face and gazed down at him, smiling gently. Her hand came up and tenderly, she brushed a lock of his tangled curls from the grey eyes.
Finn nuzzled into her palm, rubbing like a cat against its warmth.
"Sweetheart, what is your name?" he asked gently.
She smiled at him again, but then leaning, took his lips with her own cool lips, deepening the kiss, the small tongue licking the inside of his cheeks and tangling with his own. Her hips, pressed tight against him, moved slightly, rocking almost imperceptibly.
Finn groaned, and amazingly, felt his cock stir. Shrinking, it had slipped slightly from its sweet prison, and a heavy trickle of sperm and arousal squeezed out the side, trailing down her narrow thigh and dripping onto his already moist groin.
Pulling up slightly, the girl leaned back, and cupping her small breast, using her thumb and forefinger pinched the deep brown nipple.
Finn reared up and his lips captured the delicious teat, suckling strongly. The girl's hips moved strongly now, pushing against him, coaxing and rubbing against the thickening member. Finn groaned, his mind distracted, instinct and testosterone taking control. His big calloused hands came down hard on the small firm buttocks, cupping their warmth and rubbing a thumb along their flexing muscled abundance.
Finn's mind clouded, his senses fuddled by whiskey and lust. Oblivious to the sharp grains of sand, the tiny rocks scratching his back, he lay back. The pounding of the surf, the slap of the tide against the shore, became his heartbeat, even and monotonous, intense and elemental. His cock throbbing and stiff pushed up yet again into the tight wet folds, pushing, claiming, invading.
Again he groaned, his hands going to the narrow hips, moonlight blinding him, her pale face above, the black hair, silken and wild, snapping and falling in silken strands, tickling his face, tangling in his fingers as he almost cruelly grasped the narrow hips, pushing her down on him, hard, pushing up into her, hard.
His balls began to swell, filling with creamy cum, his seed, his brand, filling and swelling the hairy sacs as his throbbing prick thrust and pushed into the warm hot essence of her cunt. Keeping one hand grasping the narrow hips, claiming and controlling, his other hand went up to cup and squeeze the jiggling pale breast, twisting the fleshy tight nipple, pinching almost harshly.
Over the pounding of the surf, he heard her trilling, a deep thrumming which resonated in the small bay, matching the whistling of the wind, the far-off bark of sea creatures. The moon, huge and low in the horizon glowed, sending silver tendrils of light over the writhing figures.
Finn felt it building, felt his balls tightening then he heard her grunting, a harsh, elemental gasp and her narrow thighs tightened and suddenly Finn felt a hot rush of liquid spill onto his already soaked groin, trailing liquid fire down the matted bush at the base of his thrusting prick and making him yell as lust, elemental and pure, sent a bolt through his throbbing prick and he erupted.
He closed his eyes and grimaced, his face a rictus of lust, almost painful, as his prick began to spurt and empty itself into the hot sucking cunt, its tip spurting as the thick head was squeezed and contracted by her own orgasmic release.
It was as if they were in a symphony of release ... the pounding of the surf matching the frantic hammering of his heart, the throbbing contractions of her tight wet cunt matching the thumping metronome of his spurting prick, the feel of her warm and cold, cool and hot against his naked skin ... even the sharp prick of the beach under his back adding to the overload of emotion and feeling he was experiencing.
Gasping, Finn emptied himself within the precious darling.
As the contractions lessened, as his prick spat its last small emissions into her cunt, Finn's eyes closed. Reaching, blindly, he pulled her to him, pulling the silken head into the warmth of his neck, mingling his gasping breath with hers, cuddling her close.
Distantly, he listened to the lulling surf, the sound which sang to him each night and each morning, his lullaby and reassurance. Her body was warm against his chest, her sweet, taut thighs tight against his hips. He felt contentment and a great lassitude roll over him, the whiskey, the long day on the sea and now this incredible, unlooked for treasure combining to create a black wave of exhaustion. His prick, content and still semi stiff nestled in the tight warmth of her cunt while the sweet nubs of her soft breasts flattened against his chest. He heard her breath, soft and sweet against his neck and without awareness, drifted off to sleep.
"Do ya think he might be dead?"
"Nah – but there's a nice wee worm there we can feed to the gulls".
Voices, harsh and lilting, humour and laughter tinting their strong accented dialect wormed their way into Finn's consciousness.
Fighting his way into consciousness, Finn tried to open gummy eyes, then groaned to laughter which resonated and crashed into his head as sunlight speared painfully into his hung over orbs.
Rolling, Finn felt his back stinging, grimacing as salt spray from the surf which was just feet away from his naked feet sent pain lancing through its myriad scratches.
Again, he tried to open his eyes, succeeding this time despite the pain to squint around. Dougal and Connor stood above him, grinning wickedly as they contemplated their naked, battered friend, supine upon the beach.
Consciousness flooded back suddenly, and sitting up abruptly, Finn looked around frantically.
"Where is she gone? Did ye frighten her off??"
"Who, you crazy man?"
"My little beauty, my little dark queen? WHERE is she?"
Standing, Finn shaded his aching eyes and looked around the small confines of the Bay, his prick sticky and aching, dangling.
No one was to be seen.
Ignoring the quizzical looks, Finn made his way to the far end of the beach, where he had first seen her. The encroaching tide had obliterated any signs that might have been there earlier, and Finn felt frantic as he contemplated the reality that he didn't even have a name.
Rushing back, he gathered up his scattered clothes, ignoring the ribald comments of his friends and mind working, made his way up the rocky path to his cottage.