11. The Daily Grind

11

THE DAILY GRIND

PACARI

S he's moved on.

Or at least, that's what it seems like at first. The way she moves against the guy she's dancing with has me tense with envy. It makes it difficult to seduce the beautiful man in front of me. Yosef has far more hair than I could ever attempt to grow, and one of those noses that catches interest from its broken shape. His skin is lighter than mine in this form and sprinkled with freckles.

But he's nothing compared to Teresa. Watching her dance is a treat unlike any other. Her skin is a perfect bronze, her curves spilling out with each step, only adding to my torture. I love the sheer joy on her face when she moves to the music, the way her hair sways in perfect time to the beat. Every inch of her is dedicated to the notes .

She's so tempting. But I have to keep going.

Yosef looks back at me with eyes like Slugger's as my hands graze along his cock outside his jeans.

"You wanna take this outside?" he asks, thrusting into my hand.

"Depends on what you'll let me do to you," I whisper into his ear.

He groans as I grind my hips into his, my sifon growing thicker at the idea of sustenance.

"Does that mean you're a top?" he gasps.

"I'll take any position that'll have you coming so hard you forget what day it is."

The one benefit to going after a guy is they're so much easier. Other people usually take a little more finessing, which… is also why I'm somewhere between hurt and horny over whatever Teresa is doing. I'm glad she's moved on. She'll be better without me.

It's for the best that we're going outside. That way I can concentrate. Get the job done. I pull Yosef in for a kiss before taking his hand and dragging him to the back alley. The smokers out back barely give us a glance before returning to their conversations. I grind up against Yosef a couple more times before telling him,

"I wanna fuck you, but not in front of all these people."

"Yeah, good idea," he huffs .

I catch sight of Teresa for a moment, and nearly sprint to get this man away before she sees us. No matter how she feels about me, I don't think she wants to see me fucking some random guy. If she's still into me, it'll hurt. And if she's not, it's just rude.

Yosef laughs behind me, following where I lead. There's a spot behind the gate, next to some trees. Good enough. He'll forget when this is all over, anyway. No need to take him somewhere special.

It only takes a minute, and he's coming in my hands. I pull down my pants, rub his cock along my sifon . It twists towards the semen like a plant to light.

"Fuck, you're so thick," Yosef mumbles, still woozy from coming.

"You have more in you, don't you, baby?" I coo, running my hands along his ass and balls.

It's not nearly enough—what I have yet. I need to milk him for all he's worth—get this deal with the sea witch over with. When Yosef comes again, it's still not enough. I force a third orgasm from him. Apparently, it was too much—he passes out.

I sit there, trying to figure out how much more I have to do this, letting my sifon seek out the evidence of desire as it wishes. My legs are spread wide, hands buried in my unfamiliar hair. The muscle below the sifon, my changan scrapes what cum it can towards the sifon . Many human men claim their cocks have a mind of their own, but it is nothing compared to the functionality of a changan or a sifon .

If Teresa will not leave my mind, I have to remind myself that all of this is worth it. That the deal with the sea witch will restore my garden, bring life to so many plants and animals that have no sanctuary elsewhere. And it will mean Slugger can return to his true form as a nudibranch.

And when I have all of that, and my friends, perhaps the pain of losing Teresa will dissipate. I have only known her for a day, and yet it feels like a lifetime.

When my sifon is done harvesting what it can, I pick the poor man up and carry him back towards the bar. I feel my skin glowing with the magic that keeps me a secret, and so without worry I walk through the smokers, past the drunks in the hallway waiting for the bathroom, and to an open booth. I set Yosef there, placing his arms to cradle his head, and look around.

The grind continues. I will the magic back, wait until the glow dissipates and I am another faceless body in the crowd.

Teresa is nowhere to be seen this time, so I focus on the task at hand and look for the most willing prey whose sexual satisfaction I can reap next. This process has for so many years been a joy, or at least an amusement. But now, I find it hard to concentrate, to see in others the kinds of clues that will help me latch on to their needs. The first few people I proposition look less than happy I'm even talking to them. When I regroup, I spot another girl who looks somewhat like Teresa—at least this way I can play pretend.

She's sweet, giving, and not nearly as good of a dancer. She tells me she lives nearby, and giggling, takes me to her house. There, I reap from her what I reaped from Yosef. At least here, I can simply leave her sleeping. From her, I was able to harvest five orgasms. Women are much more reliable in that regard.

My sifon feels nearly full. Not much more and I can return to the ocean, deposit the magic with the Lantern Witch, and see what it will buy me.

Another man, another lazy fondling behind the gate. When he comes a second time, he is out. I take a relaxed pose again, letting my sifon do its work as I stare up at the stars.

And then my eye catches a glimpse of a familiar figure. I turn my head before she can leave.

Teresa.

She isn't screaming. No yelling. She isn't afraid or anything. Just watches as my sifon seeks out the last bits of cum.

It doesn't matter what she's seen. In just a few minutes, she'll forget. But having her here, watching, seeing me for who I am…

The worst part is she doesn't seem upset. It makes me think if I explained myself, she would listen. Maybe she could love me.

"Teresa," I whisper.

"What is that?" she asks, staring between my legs.

"My sifon ," I say. "It's like a cock, but it sort of does the opposite."

"No, a vagina does the opposite."

"Does it scare you?"

Her pupils dilate as my skin glows. Her expression melts, and she looks at me as if I'm the most normal thing in the world.

"Fuck," I mutter.