The Dragons' Mermaid

Chapter 3

Andrea sighed and listened to the gentle noise of the waves. Yeah, alright, so Rick liked to feel her body. And it was kind of nice, just resting in this secluded hideaway, cuddling with her lovable hunk of over-hung husband. And his fingers were tender in their constant circling, but really, what for —

A warm, wet itching. It started right at the center of the tiny circles Rick kept on drawing. From right in her bud, it spread deeper into Andrea's flesh.

"Gods! Rick —"

Andrea raised her leg and gave him room to reach further.

"Oh gods! Rick, you've done it again, you — yuuuh — huuuh! Mmmmwaaah—!"

She groped blindly behind her back, and he crawled higher until Andrea managed to grab his twitching appendage to return his favors.

"Gently, Barb —"

"Mnnngh Rick —"

Round and round.

"D—aaahyve!"

Round and round and round. Each turn kept adding to that strange heat in her womb. Warmer and warmer.

"Rick, I — Aaiiih! — Catching fire!"

She grabbed his d**k hard, and he changed the angle of his hand.

"Rick! 'ayve! 'ayyyyve! 'ayve!"

Andrea bucked on his palm. His forefinger took over and kept on circling her swollen, engorged knob.

"Hhhhayyve! Hhaah—!"

His middle finger slid back down and spread her narrow gate. One knuckle, two knuckles, up and down her moist cleft, in and out the tight hole. Andrea's hips rocked back and forth, and while her one hand milked her man's stiff c**k, the other's fingers caressed her delirious face as her husband finger-f****d her to orgasm.

"Fire — burnyyyyying — fiiyyyyyaaaahhh!"

Her tight, wet tube flexed and cramped around his probing digit.

"Aaaayyyvvve!"

~

Spent, Andrea slumped down and trapped his hand between her thighs.

"Rick — Rick —," she moaned blissfully. Pre-c*m coated her palm and lubed her sliding, milking grasp. Recovering from her wrecking climax, she slid her hand up and down his painfully hard erection faster.

"Andre — raah!"

Her slender fingers were spread apart as David's organ throbbed fatter still in her grip. Thick, warm spurts filled her palm, and a few drops squirted over her buttocks. He sagged down, gasping for air.

"I'm — sorry — just — couldn't hold — out," he managed.

"Good enough for me," Andrea panted and only slowly caught her breath. "Tomorrow's another day," she smiled as she turned around to hug him. "Tomorrow, we'll manage to get together properly."

"Still, I've got the strangest thing to tell y—," Rick started, but hesitated and stared at her chest. His puzzled smile turned into a frown.

"What's that thing you're wearing?"

"Thing —?" Andrea's hand flew up and patted her almost-cleavage. She felt the chain and the cool metal, and guilt rushed into her features. "Oh Rick, I meant to put it back! It's just so beautiful! Don't be mad because I found your gift before my birthday! Then again, you shouldn't have hidden it in the very fish you gave me."

"Gift—? Andrea, I don't know where it came from. Let me see it. It sure isn't from me," he replied and paused. And, more quietly, he added, "I'm sorry. I could never afford such an expensive gem. But it looks truly fine on you. You look just like a princess now."

His hands traced her narrow waist. Andrea shivered with delight as his fingers wandered higher and across the flatness — the almost flatness —

"You've become rounder," he smiled and flicked a finger at her right n****e that showed through the rough cloth. "It has found a nice warm home, that trinket."

He turned the sparkling jewelry in his fingers and shook his head.

"Never seen anything like that. And you say it was in the fish?"

She stroked his cheek. "Didn't you tell me there's all those wrecks from the old Empire's harbor out at the reef up the coast? Maybe the big snappers are like magpies of the sea and it swallowed the trinket just because it's shiny. I mean, some of our catches had stones in their bellies, the daft beasts."

"Magpie fish," Rick replied flatly and slanted an eyebrow.

"Why not? It's not like you never brought home strange catches before. The magpie one, then the big golden ones from the new net — maybe we're just having a winning streak."

Rick shrugged. "I'm just not used to winning streaks. Then again, just this morning —"

Andrea hugged him. "Oh dearie, don't worry. I don't care where it came from. It'll always be your gift to me. Don't be sad."

She let go and straightened herself, raising a finger.

"Still, Rick, firewood! Get going!"

Sitting back at the table while Andrea went ahead with the cooking, Rick made another try.

"I got to tell you about what happened just this morning, dear. Now that was weird. I hardly needed to go out more than a couple hundred yards into the sea, and the net was full. The baskets are overflowing with those new golden fishes. It's like a swarm of them settled in our bay."

No reply.

"Andrea?"

"Huh? Oh, I was just lost in thoughts." She spun around in front of her husband. "Be honest. Do you notice anything odd about me?"

"Should I? Apart from you being more gorgeous than ever, my princess?"

"Quit that, Rick." She shook her head. "Nah, just can't shake something you said earlier, about rounder. I'm just — I feel like I've put on a little weight. I mean, I ate another of those golden ones for breakfast, but they just aren't all that filling. Thy don't seem to be, at least. Am I getting fat without noticing? You'd tell me if I got fat like Molly Haskings, wouldn't you?" Her hands rubbed down her lithe shape, drew up her skirt and clamped around her right thigh. "Mh, doesn't feel any thicker, though. It's just my clothes began pinching in a few places. Maybe I should hold out on them for a day or two."

"On the clothes?" he winked. "Sure, why not. Don't mind me."

"No, you dolt! The fishes. Don't want to fatten myself into an old bloated matron before my time."

"Oh come on, Andrea." David smiled. "You're slender as ever." He placed a cupped hand on her flat chest and grinned. "These here, though, that's where the meat went, eh?"

Andrea slapped him playfully. "You wish! I know it didn't."

"Seriously, dear. There's just a little bit more of you to love now," he grinned and poked her chest with his forefinger.

"Don't you mock me, or I'll stop trying to stuff your giant man-snake into my little cave. You knew what you were getting when you married me. If you want to rub melons, go outside and take care of the garden!"

"Can do," he offered.

"No, just kidding. Go to your boat, I'll manage," Andrea laughed.

Need two hands on my hips and your third leg between mine, sang her thoughts. She blushed, but something in the back of her mind went on and on.

Horny. Oh Rick, just say a word, do a thing, just show me you want me now. I need it, on the spot! I'm ready! I'm wide for you! Wider than ever! I'm all wet for you, wet for you to all the better slide inside me! I can take you now, I know it! Forget your boat, stay and do me instead! Do me through to the hilt!

She shook her head.

No, this isn't right. Need to do — the dishes. I need — Dun-de-dun-dun-de—

Andrea started humming a little tune to shut up her salacious thoughts.

Rick hesitated in the doorway. Slowly, he turned back again and stared at the sight of his wife leaning over the kitchen table. She bent her left leg to keep her balance, and as she did, her rear clenched up a little bit. He never noticed before how that movement turned her dress taut, spanning over the best pair of buttocks Rick had ever laid eyes upon. Mesmerized, weak in the knees and like drawn by strings, he took a step forward while he raised his hands to her firm, chiseled roundness —

Yes, come and get me, whispered Andrea's thoughts. Come and ream my dripping hole wide. Da-dun-de-dun-de-daa—

She hummed on, feigning unawareness.

Rick's fingers brushed over the onset of her butt. Andrea lurched forward as raw desire and carnal hunger exploded in her crotch. A plate clattered to the floor. Her hands clawed into the far edge of the table. The long, raunchy groan that rose from her throat while she spread her legs was worthy of a congregation of whores.

"Love," he rasped. The fingertips of his right hand traced down her cleft. His other hand pulled the wool up. Andrea gyrated her hips and did her best aiding him to liberate her itching, leaking crotch from her dress. Every touch and scrape over her firm buttocks made her wetter.

"Rick — gods, Rick, mount me!" she panted. "Today's the day! Now! Need you — in me, so very bad!"

His weight on her back disappeared but for a moment, then she felt the silken skin of his glans sliding up and down over her widening gap, slipping in deeper until the red, swollen head of his rod disappeared completely between her tight labia. Rick hesitated, unsure, waiting for his wife to get used to the girth. Her stretched skin dug into the ridge right behind his glans, and things only got thicker from there on down.

Andrea impatiently arched her back and lifted her hips, and to Rick's surprise, she opened slowly and pushed her crotch towards him. Her body swallowed inch by inch of his engorged staff.

"Told — you. Breed — me," she panted, pulling one leg up on the table to open herself even more. Rick slid in and out about the half length of his rod now, and little rivulets of her warm secretions ran down Andrea's other leg. It was good, but it wasn't yet what she wanted.

"Rick — Rick, wait, let me get on my back," she moaned. He held still. She spun over on his pole and grabbed his shoulders while her legs locked behind his back.

"Ride me harder!"

He obeyed and grabbed her thighs. They felt different, stronger and meaty, but his mind was too occupied to notice. In and out he went, and she caught his thrusts with her warm wetness, her trembling body writhing on the table, her cave growing deeper and wider until her labia smacked against the root of his rod.

"I'm all in," he moaned, his mind ablaze with bestial delights.

"Oh yes you are," she shrieked. Her hole clenched down on his root for a handful of breathless, motionless moments before Andrea's hips started bucking.