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My cock hurts so severely I adjust it one-handed, not daring to stop watching her through my binoculars.
What is she doing now?
I watch as she stands, looks around, and walks several paces down the dock, leaving her things. She must have to go get something from inside, perhaps lunch.
I know I should just file everything I saw into my spank bank for later, but I feel I might burst if I wait another minute.
I look this way and that. There’s no one around, so I unzip my trousers and pull out my throbbing length, the momentary relief instantly replaced by another rush of blood, demanding to be touched.
Using my own spit for lube, I find myself wishing it was her—Stasi’s spit, Stasi’s juice wetting my cock. Her hand taking my hard length and pumping me until I come all over her soft, bouncy tits. Or her ass. Or inside her tight cunt.
“I know you’re so fucking tight, you gorgeous thing,” I grunt, not caring how ridiculous I look and sound out here on the water, sitting in a boat, my cock out.
All I know is I need some relief, and I need it now.
My binoculars cast aside, I see some more movement by the cabin. She’s not going inside like I thought. After several paces, she turns around and takes a long, running leap into the water.
What is she doing? She can’t swim! Not well, anyway.
Not without a life jacket.
Fuck me.
9
Stasi
The water feels fantastic after a morning spent lounging in the sun.
I dog paddle, tread water, lie on my back and float, my buoyant tits like two happy little islands. Who needs a life vest when I’ve got these girlies to keep my head above water?
This is my mermaid era, I decide. This week, I will teach myself how to swim.
Or maybe I won’t. Perhaps I’ll just do this all day, every day. Floating on my back is pretty damn relaxing, even in chilly lake water in September. We Gravenlandian women are made of hearty stuff.
Hm. I should have splurged on a giant float. One with a cup holder and shit. Maybe I’ll find something in town, or perhaps the cabin has something I can use. I’ll snoop around the place later.
I’m deciding whether to get a plain one or a huge tacky unicorn float when a shadow passes over my face. Probably just a cloud, I think. But then, the shadow is followed by the splash of a huge fish. Not huge. Gigantic.
I know I shouldn’t panic. I know that fish are more afraid of us humans than we are of them, blah, blah, blah. That sounds great, but in practice? No. Loch Ness has wrecked my entire vibe.
“Nope, nope, nope!” I shout, splashing and kicking around like a lunatic.
I’m not sticking around to find out what type of fish it is that just swam by me.
I twist around and swim toward the deck. Well, I sort of swim. I paddle and manage to keep my head above water this time.
“Stasi. Grab the oar.”
I shriek with fright before my brain registers that it’s Sigurd in the rowboat, crouching down and leaning out over the water with one of the paddles.
I can’t quite decide what emotion I’m feeling right now. Happy that he came back? Relieved he’s not the Gravenlandian’s version of the Loch Ness monster? Annoyed that he scared the absolute shit out of me?
Yeah, I’m going to go with annoyed.
I slap the oar out of my way and keep paddling.
“I’ve…got it.”
