A Picture In Need Of A Story

[TellMeATale2013]

My Pic, Your Story

So many of my stories have always been initially inspired by erotic images; I see a pic, my fantasies run rampant, and I write.

But I've always wondered what fantasies these images would inspire in other writers. So, here's the task:

1. View this pic.
2. Fantasize.
3. Write a short story.
4. Post it.
5. THEN AND ONLY THEN go back and read other writers' stories and see what the pic inspired in their minds.

Have fun.

 

[TellMeATale2013]

From the cliff, it was difficult to tell what I was seeing. I descended the trail and began across the gravelly beach, stopping suddenly when I realized I was looking at a woman laying face down in the gravelly beach. I wasn't sure whether to continue forward or not: if she was sun bathing, I'd be intruding; but if she was hurt...

"Are you all right, miss?" I called, receiving in an answer only a glance from her. I moved ahead slowly, calling out again, "Are you okay...? Do you need help?"

She looked off toward the ocean, then back at me, but said nothing. My mind returned to the sun bathing idea. She didn't appear to have a blanket or any other possessions, and the pebble stone beach and cool temperatures didn't exactly scream suntan. I continued forward, my eyes always upon her, waiting for a sign that she did not want company or need my help.

Suddenly, as I neared, I realized she was naked and not in a skimpy bikini as I had expected. I hardened rapidly with excitement. I chastised myself with a low murmur, reminding myself that she was probably either looking for privacy or in need of assistance.

"Are you okay, miss?" I asked again, now only thirty or so yards from her.

"He didn't want me," she answered sadly, her voice -- barely audible over the crashing waves -- cracking with emotion. "He didn't want me."

Didn't want you...? I was unsure whether she was using the word want in the sexual sense that I was already thinking it. I asked, glancing up and down the beach but finding no one within view. "Who didn't want you?"

"He didn't want me," she repeated, adding, "because of who I am ... of what I am."

I was continuing forward slowly, trying my best to keep my eyes on hers but failing tragically as my gaze continually shifted to beautiful, naked form.

"Who is he?" I asked again. "Where is he?"

She sobbed for a moment, shifting against the gravel beach. My eyes went to her well rounded ass as it tightened, loosened, shifted up and down. My god! How could any man NOT want that ... want her I mean?

"Can I help you some how?" I asked. "Are you staying near here? One of the hotels maybe. Do you need something to wear?"

I quickly shed my wind breaker and took another couple of steps closer, offering it out. As she had, I shifted my own body a bit, trying to bring relief to my uncomfortable groin where my fully erect penis was not laying as I would have wanted it to within my tight, summer shorts.

"I need..." she began, letting the thought trail away as -- for the first time -- her eyes dropped from my own to set upon my torso.

"What do you need, miss?" I could see -- or was fantasizing hopefully -- that her gaze was on my groin and the bulge so evident there. I inconspicuously shifted the jacket to hide my embarrassment, asking again, "What you need, miss?"

"I need to be wanted," she said, looking back to my eyes. She seemed to be studying me, as if ensuring I'd understood her meaning. She continued, "I need to be wanted now."

My mind was spinning. Was she saying what I hoped she was, that she wanted a man to want her ... to make love to her? Or was is more of a deeper, spiritual thing and not sexual at all? Nudity didn't always equate to sex; my exhibitionist, hippie grandparents had taught me that once on a retreat to the commune of their psychedelic days. (Of course, while they thought of the naked bodies wandering about as signs of freedom, all I saw was places I wanted to put my perpetually hardened dick.)

"Will you want me?" she asked. "Will you want me now?"

I hesitated, ogling her backside again as she heightened her perfect butt a bit and parted her knees a few more inches in the gravel. I wanted her; that was a gimme. But, the situation was simply ... unbelievable. You don't just walk out on the beach, find a naked woman...

"I can't go home until I am wanted," she continued. "I need you to want me ... now ... here ... please."

Her accent, which I had only taken notice of now, and the way she was using -- or misusing -- certain words made me wonder where she was from. Go home...? Where's home?

I needed clarity, and -- with a bit of directness I had never used before -- I asked, "You want me to make love to you...? Here? Now?"

She answered me by rising to her knees and elbows, parting her legs a bit more, and saying, "Please ... want me."

Again, I hesitated. I wanted her so badly, but I still simply could not believe this was happening. I looked up and down the beach again, but found no one. I glanced back toward the three hotels atop the cliffs and wondered, Is there someone up there with a video camera? And I getting punk'd or something?

Suddenly, I didn't care. My penis was throbbing, and she was presenting herself to me ... for me. I began a slow circle to around behind her, stepping out of my deck shoes and unbuttoning my sun shirt. Arriving behind her, my heart jumped at the sight of her swollen pussy lips, already moist, waiting for me to enter them.

I stripped my shorts and underwear off in a single move, stepped up to stand between her parted calves, and dropped to my knees behind her. She reached back between her thighs, touching herself for a moment, then opening herself. She murmured, "Want me."

And I did. I grasped her hips, placed myself at her opening, and pushed. Her body resisted for a long moment, then -- as she relaxed to the pressure -- I pushed slowly inward, sinking my full depth as with a groan of pleasure that with her cry of pain filled the air around us.

"Want me!" she repeated, this time with a sense of demand.

I moved in and out of her slowly, but she urged me onward, repeating her Want me! mantra again and again until finally I was pounding against her as hard as I had ever fucked a woman before.

"WANT ... ME!" she cried out, just before she erupted in a scream of orgasm and began trembling to the euphoria ripping through her.

I wasn't there yet, but I could see that she was cumming hard and soon wasn't going to want me any more. I pounded fiercely, finding that sweet spot, and a moment later -- just as she was collapsing to the gravel with her butt up high in the air -- exploded with a grunt that, in the wind, could have been heard clear up at the hotels. I pulled out bodies tight to one another, dropped my head back, and simply enjoyed the pulsations in my groin and the climax enveloping my entire body.

When the last pulse came from my dick, I looked back down to her. She was breathing hard, and I could still feel her trembling in my hands. I hoped she felt wanted the way she'd been expecting.

As my breathing and heart beat began to slow, I considered rolling her over and fucking her again. Suddenly, I became aware of a loud crashing sound and looked to my left just in time to see a monster wave heading for the beach. I jerked out of her quickly, causing her to cry out in surprise, and said excitedly, "We have to go. Now! Move , move"

I stood and grabbed my clothes, but when I turned back to her, I found her not preparing to out run the wave but instead running directly at it. "Where ya going?"

She suddenly dove straight forward, seeming to pierce and disappear into the wave. I simply stood there in shock. She was no where to be seen. I began moving back, eventually running while twisting back to watch the wave and look for her, too.

The wave caught me, knocking me down, washing over me. I tumbled over the gravel beach, popped up for a quick breath, then disappeared under the roiling water again. And then ... I felt hands upon me, pulling me quickly through the chest high water. I broke through the water and managed to get to get to my knees before falling and then rising again. I struggled to get my bearings as the water rushed past me, back toward the ocean.

When finally the ocean water was gone, I turned toward the ocean and ... found her? The woman I'd made love to -- whose legs I'd parted to find my pleasure, and hers -- was lying on the gravel near me, one hand supporting the weight of her torso the other grasping my leg with reassurance that I was alright...

... and trailing out behind her ... was the beautiful, green and gold tail of ...

"A mermaid?" I asked with obvious shock and doubt. "This can't ... I don't believe in ... I don't ..."

"I can go home now," she said with a smile, squeezing my thigh. "You wanted me, and now..."

"I don't believe this," I said, not hearing at all what she was saying and only staring at that unbelievable addition to her. "I don't believe in mermaids. This ... this is a joke, right?"

She donned a bit of a hurt expression, pulling her hand back. She looked away, toward the cliffs behind me. He eyes widened, and she looked back to the ocean expectantly; a second big wave was approaching, and while it wasn't at all like the first, I knew that it, too, would reach where we were.

"One moon," she said, turning her body with skill, "and I will need to be wanted again."

Before I could say anything, the wave was upon us. She surged forward again, disappearing into it, while I -- unprepared and still in shock -- was hit hard and tumbled further up the beach to be left alone with the majority of my clothes still clutched in my hands.



It's been 28 days. I almost made the mistake of returning to the shore a month later -- 30, or 31 days. I am standing on the cliff, looking down upon the rocks, thinking about that other guy ... the one who didn't want her because she was who she was and what she was.

And I can't help but wonder ... who wouldn't want that...