Her Watery Grave

She wasn’t alone in her watery grave. Something else was here with her. She didn’t want to look at it. She didn’t want to smell it. She didn’t want to know it existed.

She swam around in the muddy miasma of her thoughts and toyed with the idea that there was nothing out there. Nothing to see. Nothing to smell. Nothing existed.

But if she existed here then most likely something else could too and she couldn’t completely wipe that thought from her non-existing mind.

She swam because she loved the feel of the water against her non-existent flesh. Oh, to her, the flesh was there. It existed. She could feel it. But she knew she was in her watery grave, she knew it without a doubt. She knew her flesh was rotting off her bones even if she couldn’t see it doing so where she was right now.

The water caressed and touched everywhere. The only place it didn’t touch was inside but even that wasn’t completely true. She could at times feel its coolness being pulled into parts of her body openings. For instance, if she opened her mouth it would rush in and try to slide down her throat, trying to fill all the vacant areas of her opening.

If she spread her legs and slowly inserted her finger then she would feel the cool waters seeping in around her finger to fill her.

The hard part was getting the water back out. Sometimes she just swam around and let it slosh around inside her. Not quite as beautiful as a cock but definitely touching her in ways a cock never could.

She ran her hands up and down her body, over her hard nipples, and the soft flesh of her breasts, down her slender thighs, then back up between her legs, and over her flat stomach. She could still feel the body of her youth even though she knew it no longer existed.

She would toy with her clit, letting her arousal smolder and slowly build it until she would cum, but she always felt less than satisfied.

She continued to let the waters of her watery grave, slide over and caress her body like a lover. She would roll lazily in its embrace feeling it surround her in its coolness but somehow leaving hot tendrils sliding over her skin tickling her most intimate folds. Her arousal would build and build, until she thought she would go quite mad.

She closed her eyes and gave a watery sigh, imagining the waters becoming hands. Hands that cupped her breasts with fingers that squeezed and twisted and pulled her nipples. Sometimes squeezing just hard enough to bring a bit of pain, then letting go to have fingers flickering like hot molten flames across her skin, setting her on fire. She moaned and twisted in their heated grip.

Her imagination kindled another pair of flaming tendrils slithering and twining around her legs upwards until they reached the soft skin of her inner thighs mere centimeters from her molten epicenter. They curled around her legs just below the swell of her bottom massaging against her heating her arousal.

She moaned and twisted and thrust her hips trying to get the waters to slip ever upward as she manipulated its mass into one thick throbbing enormously long cock.

Once she had realized she could manipulate the waters in her watery grave she knew she would never be alone again. Her watery lover wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back into its heated embrace, his thick cock slid upwards into the cleft of her thighs and plunged into her depths. Filling her like no male human lover ever could. Thrusting with the depth and firmness that she craved.

The waters splashed and gurgled around her but she paid no heed. She fucked her watery lover with animalistic boldness, she had finally found her freedom to set her body to flames and her soul to scream its passion.

She floated and undulated within the miasma of her watery grave, as her watery lover’s cock thrust in and out, in and out, over and over again, each thrust meeting her every need. At times gentle, at times brutal and painful. She lost count of the orgasms she had, she floated in his embrace trusting her lover to fulfill her every need. He twisted and pinched her nipples. Licked and kissed her neck and shoulders, squeezed her breasts and ran his hands over every inch of her flesh and flicked his fiery fingers over her clit setting her to flame over and over again.

She would fall asleep with the slow rocking of his thrusts and dream of his slow sensual loving of her, feeling wave after orgasmic wave flow through her non-existent body.

She was in heaven. There was no denying it. She smiled in her sleep knowing her parents must have been shocked when they met their own watery grave.

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About Kate Spyder

I'm a creative individual finding her way in her writing. I enjoy expressing my deep thoughts through poetry and stories. I hope you enjoy them as much as I enjoy writing them.
This entry was posted in Erotic Fiction, Erotica, Mature and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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