Page 71 of Evil Hearts

She wins the battle against her laces and her trousers fall to her knees. Her legs strain against the fabric to open wide for me, and the pants slowly descend her calves to her feet. I wrap a tentacle around them to keep her from losing the garment entirely. Herhips buck to gather friction from the tentacle wedged between her thighs. With a little finesse, I slowly wedge the tips of two more tentacles to explore her slit as I watch her face for signs of rapture. I can’t help but sample her sweetest nectar from them.

Oh, I’m drunk on her taste.

Do I dare? I look into her brown eyes and find the daze of pleasure—not the anger I witnessed when she held her little blade against me. Will she regret allowing me into her body? She swivels her hips and my tip slides inside her. Her eyes widen in surprise. I freeze with indecision.

The gentle squeezing of her thighs is the consent I need to push both tentacles into her hungry cunt. I twist them so the suckers on the underside nip and kiss her interior walls to mark her inside and out as mine. The tentacle holding down her arms loosens to join the others within her folds. I find the bundle of nerves that delights a human female and test rubbing, tapping, and sucking it until I find what pleases my pet.

She bucks and rocks in a battle for control of our sex. My tentacles form a ball around us as we drift from my protected grotto. I can’t allow a shark to sneak up on us because I’m lost in my mate, but my primal instincts demand I spread the scent of our coupling as far as she allows. My tentacle tips take turns penetrating her mouth and birthing canal in a frenzy I haven’t experienced since my youth. I must reward this sweet pet with whatever she desires so I get to keep her. Her muscles tighten and release me in rhythmic pulses as if she’s trying to milk my seed from me.

We tumble through the abyss as I indulge in her body. Her silent screams hold her mouth open wide for me to spread her taste over her tongue. She clamps her knees onto my trunk with an intensity I didn’t think a human could muster. Her body shivers from head to toe, going rigid with the power of her orgasm.

Then she’s limp and drowsy, riding my mating arm…

If she expelled an egg before this morning…my pet is a mother.

Jane

When I wasyoung, I loved to hide under the men’s hammocks and listen to them talk about doxies, whorehouses, and sex. My father would threaten to keelhaul anyone who would talk directly to me about those things, so I had to sneak. I had no mother or close female friend to help me when my bleed first came or when I paid a swab to frig my cunt for the first time for a coin. Best piece of eight I ever spent. Old-Salt taught me how to do it on my own and promptly left the boat at the next port without explanation.

Over the years, I engaged in mutual frigging with all sorts of men—big, small, rich, poor—but they were all the same below the belt. I never felt the urge to stick their marriage rod inside me. Maybe it was the scarcity of soap or the general health of those at sea, but I shied away from sexual intercourse. Sure, many pirates offered a way to penetrate me that wouldn’t make a baby, but sticking their cocks up my windpipe sounded less enticing than my marriage box. I always made terms clear before letting them under my clothes…so why did I lose myself with an octopus?

Atlas.

The sentient being carrying me back to the grotto with the delicate touch of a mother hen is named Atlas. I can’t think ofhimas anitafter we rode the St. George. He’s definitely a male with a cock like no human man. In my folly, I wasn’t particular,was I? I think I licked and rode everything he offered—tentacles, cocks—nothing was below deck.

However, who used whom?

It’s been decades for him—assuming he didn’t use humans before he ate them—since his last companion carried his eggs.Shiver. Yeah, that’s a pass on the egg-laying for me. The way he looked into my eyes, asking for consent, doesn’t fit my human-eating monster image. If he thought of humans as food only, why ask? I can’t blame my lack of action either. Palling around with Ellis meant fewer opportunities for frigging with strangers, and Ellis doesn’t share my frequency ofneed. Despite my dry spell, I’d never allow a creature’s marriage rod into my cunt and then snuggle against his blobby body as he carried me.

Pirates don’t cuddle.

But maybe my feminine sensibilities are awakening. Maybe I never embraced my status as a woman because I was surrounded by men…and my body preferred a sea monster. If Atlas’s claims are true, it’s not my fault I threw myself at him. My behavior was fitting for a fated mate. Even now, I cling to his shapeless body and cradle his deflating cock in my body as we barrel through the sea.

Living in his grotto won’t be so bad…especially when I have gills and can escape when I feel inclined.

“Here we are, pet,” he whispers. His siphon spits water against my hair as if he tries to whisper in my ear. He lays me on the beach, next to the pile of debris fromPetunia Fair, and slinks back into the water. “We’re home—safe and sound. Did you see the hammerhead sharks migrating overhead? They can’t reach us here, but we shouldn’t drift close to them.”

I glow with happiness after he wrung a couple of orgasms from my body. With limbs this limp, I should sleep it off. Wait…If he’s underwater and I’m on the sand…how do I feel so…full…

Shriek!My screams ricochet off the cavern walls and echo off the ceiling. I claw his detached cock from my vagina and scramble a few feet away. It’s purple and hard as if carved from stone, but squishes when I poke it with a busted plank. Oh, God, there’s a dent where I touched it. I hope he didn’t need it back.

“What is it, my pet? Are you hurt? Are you frightened?”

“You left your cock in me!” I scream as I point at the phallus as if it’s a pile of sand fleas.

“Oh, well, I guess human men can’t do that,” he half asks, half says. “I’ll grow another one, so you can keep it—”

“Keep it! Keep it!” My hysterics shock me. Who is this creature who uses my skin? She frightens easily, cuddles, and opens her legs for anything he will stick into her. “What do you expect me to do with it?”

Atlas doesn’t have eyebrows, but the silence he gives me is definitely a raised eyebrow.

“Your need may build faster than mine. How should I know?”

“How long will you have to wait for one to grow?”

He hesitates before answering. What’s he hiding? “One lunar cycle.”

“And this happens every time you penetrate a woman…um…female…”

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