23. Pearl Jam

23

PEARL JAM

PACARI

O ur bodies join, so naturally in sync it seems impossible that we ever didn't know each others. I spin her so she can observe every angle of the garden, see every beautiful wonder around us. Her face goes through such a series of expressions, I cannot help but laugh with joy at her delight. Her reaction is everything I could have wanted and more. She is so beyond anything I could have ever expected in a mate—had I ever even considered that was a possibility for me.

Soon, her expression shifts, her gaze growing heavy with excitement as she explores the way her body moves in the water. A smile spreads across her face, and suddenly, she's looking at me with a teasing sultriness that makes me want to take her here and now. But she seems to have other plans, as she rolls her head and shoulders so that her hair follows the motion, billowing out from her head, sweeping across her face. When her eyes are revealed, she strikes her arms up above her head before thrusting them down, her breasts launching towards me. Just as I reach to take her in my arms, she spins her body, drops low to slide away.

Laughing, I chase after her in a series of rolls, happy to partake in this seductive dance with her. She kicks her leg high above her head into full splits, grabbing her ankle and spinning in glee. The motion sends her skirt flying upward. My eyes can't help but to travel the length of her leg to the center of her body, to her beautiful cunt. I dive towards her, circle her legs to tease her in turn. She pulls her legs up to her chest, causing her body to sink towards me, and explodes towards my torso. I pull her towards me into a passionate kiss, our bodies undulating against each other.

I taste the smile on her lips, feel the pounding of her heart. Her thumbs stroke along my shoulder fins at the space between the cartilage, and I melt against her.

"I love you," I can finally say. "Every bit of you. Wholeheartedly."

"Bout time," she giggles. "You couldn't have been more obvious about it."

She pulls back to look me in the eyes. They must be glowing bright yellow at this point. She bites her lip, a predatory look in her eye as she lowers herself. Suddenly, I am all too aware of the pearls straining against my sifon . My hand curls around the shaft, begins to stroke it.

"Not so fast," she says amongst a burst of bubbles from her sultry laugh.

"Teresa, please. The pearls—"

"Mmm, the pearls," she repeats, now at level with my sifon . She runs her cheek along it. "What are you going to do about them?"

I feel a dizzying lust overcome me. It's too much, the way she's talking, my need for her, the pressure from the pearls…and all of this here, in my garden.

"Normally, I—ngh--" She runs her tongue along the shaft. "I massage my sifon until—" Her hands are next. "—the pearls are—" One hand curls around my changan, which immediately wraps itself around her wrist. She strokes it gently before tugging slightly. The sensation is entirely new. I've never thought to play with it like she does now, leading it, controlling it, when its purpose is to guide my sifon and seek pleasure points in my partners. My legs feel weak as she dominates me in this way. I lose track of what my body is doing as I drown in the pleasure of her torment.

Was I saying something? I thought I—

Her tongue swirls around the opening to my sifon .

"I'm going to—"

Clarity hits me just before, and in a panic, I grab at her so her face isn't pelted with all the pearls buried inside me. She lets out a surprised moan, which does not help things. I shudder as my orgasm rips through me. It is unlike anything I have ever felt, even compared to our first union. My head feels empty, my body seizing with ripples of ecstasy. Teresa wraps herself around me as I shake kisses me gently through the strange, overwhelming sensations.

When every pearl has been released, my legs curl into my chest. I feel so empty. There was a sweet torment to the build-up, as much as I needed the release. But I bore them inside me for so long I am lost now that they are gone. Especially because now I no longer carry within me the physical embodiment of our bond. She kisses my cheeks, seemingly as if she can sense the tears that would form if we weren't underwater.

I kiss her deeply before pulling away. "Please, let me collect them."

When she sees the desperation in my eyes, she lets me go. But she doesn't just watch as I collect the huge load of pearls. They have a faint glow to them, or perhaps she would have to sit back and wait. Though hard, they are not so dense that they sink to the ocean floor, which is both helpful and not. When each one has been retrieved between the two of us—Teresa using her skirt to gather those that overfilled her hands—she turns to me.

"Where are we putting them?"

"Wait here," I tell her, before kicking away to a shelf in the grotto.

There sits a cup made of a nautilus and sculptured brass. It was a gift from Aka, who helped me recover it from the wreckage of one of the ships like his. Though to see its shell polished to the pristine, pearlescent white hurt to think about, I could not deny the beauty of the carvings. It felt out of place amongst the shipwreck. So many things do. No animals could eat it or grow upon it. So I took it, to try and find a use for it. Atop the shell sits a golden sculpture of a man Kalixto says is Poseidon, a God where he is from. The brasswork is so delicate, so detailed.

As a place to store the combination of our love, it seems fitting, as a thing of both land and sea. I pour the pearls I have in my hands within the goblet before grabbing a bit of woven seaweed to seal the top. When I swim back to Teresa, her eyes go wide.

"That's beautiful," she says.

"I thought so too."

She carefully pours her pearls into the cup as well, and when every one of them is inside, I seal it tight. Teresa runs her hand along the seaweed, testing the texture and tautness .

"What is that?" she asks.

"Kelp."

"But kelp is slippery," she says in confusion.

"Just as humans have ways to process plants, so do we," I tell her simply.

"Huh…" she says.

"You know what else is slippery," I say, pulling Teresa with me as I kick towards the walls to set the cup on a shelf.

"What?" she asks, giggling.

I set the cup down, gather her in my arms.

"Your cunt when fully seduced. In fact, I bet I can get it so that it is dripping for me, even here in the water."

"Oh you bet, do you?" she says, her voice casual, though her body shivers against me in anticipation. "I bet you're so proud of yourself for that segue."

"You bet, do you?" I repeat, mocking her gently.

"Don't be such a—"

Before she can finish the words, my hand teases her needy sex, silencing her words with her own moaning desperation.