The Dragons' Mermaid

Chapter 2

The gutting knife went tink as it hit something hard in the fish's bowels.

"What the —?" muttered Andrea. Her fingers spread the gaping cut. Even in the low light of the kitchen, the thing inside the fish sparkled. She pulled out the strange lump and rinsed it in the bucket by her side.

"A pendant?" Her mouth spread into a wide grin. "Oh Rick," she cooed to her absent husband. "You shouldn't have!"

It was made of silver, or at least something silvery, because it wasn't stained at all but shone like freshly polished. Intricate strands of the sparkling metal were woven around a central stone of deep blue. A circle of smaller blue stones framed the bas-relief of two whales, chasing each other in an endless circle around the blue center. Andrea was sure she had never seen something so beautiful. She ran the glittering chain through her fingers, and it felt slick like the thinnest snake.

"Can't keep secrets from your wife, you lovable oaf, you. Got my birthday gift early," she snickered and threw glances around. "I'll put it on just to see if it fits —"

It jingled faintly when she drew it over her head. The cool touch at the onset of her flat breasts gave her goosebumps, and Andrea reached instinctively for the edge of the table as a waft of vertigo passed over her.

I'll put it back into the fish before Rick returns, she mused. Don't want to spoil his fun. Gonna fry one of the others instead.

Andrea turned around and leaned over the table. Stretching to reach out, her mound of venus scrubbed over the edge. The young woman jerked back and curled up, not because of pain, but transfixed by a bolt of raw lust that filled her head to toe in an instant. Her hands, driven by reflex, cupped her crotch. Through the rough cloth, her palms rubbed the warm, swelling flesh. Her fingers started to knead.

"Gods," she moaned. The cloth turned dark with wetness. She couldn't stop digging her fingers into the spreading, bulging dome between her legs. The rising tide of sensual fire filled her womb, and there was so little room. So little room...

Panting, she bent her knees. Her lust overflowed, it dripped through the soaked wrinkles of cloth in her grip and spilled over her fingers. More and more of the lubricating moisture came, it licked against the dams of her flesh in rising waves. It made way, pushing Andrea's skin out, stretching her.

So much, she thought, unable to articulate words over her groaning and panting. Her right hand's fingers wandered higher and traced her bulging lower belly. Her dress was tight around her now flaring, womanly hips, and still there was more of this strange volume, of her materializing urges. Red, hot and engorging, her lust bud pushed through the meaty curtains of her inner labia and rubbed into the soaked cloth. Her outer lips swelled and reddened, rising and plumping, turning her pubic mound into a mere promontory for the expanding bulges framing her moist, tight hole.

Andrea's left hand barely fit over her crotch now. Spreading her gap with one hand, her fingertips dipped into the boiling pink, and she pinched the protruding head of her swollen clit between her thumb and the side of her palm —

After that she lost her consciousness.

This was not going well at all, thought Andrea to herself as she felt a dizziness pass over her body. Something was absolutely wrong with her and she needed to go and see the healer as soon as possible.

"You can put your clothes back on, Andrea. You should, in fact. Oh dear, oh dear. I'm seventy-one now, and I should be beyond these things, but you, you almost managed to turn this stupid old hag green with envy." Reeta shook her head and smiled.

"Honest to the gods, you had me worrying about you for some time, child. Nice lass you are now, but scrawny like you were when I last saw you, you wouldn't have lasted a dry stretch. Much better to see you with some meat on your bones, and all in the best places." The old woman winked, then she leaned in. "Word to the wise, dear: sit down with needle and thread, and make yer garb a bit more," she gesticulated awkwardly with cupped hands and her palms facing the ceiling, making little juggling motions, "— err, comfortable, lest ya pop a seam at an inappropriayte time. Seems it was sown when someone didn't ever expect to learn the meaning of handfuls. And your ripe apples are quite the pair of handfuls, darling."

Andrea blushed and closed the last few hooks and loops on her gown, working her way up from her narrow waist. The first hand's width was easy, but then —

"Gnnngh!"

Scrrrish.

Reeta raised her eyebrows and lowered her head in the age-old gesture of told you. Andrea sighed. She pocketed the torn loop and opted for provisionally tying up the gap across her cleavage with a zig-zagging cord. The spread was almost three inches at the widest place. Only at her collarbones did the cloth shut again the way it was supposed to. Beneath them, right at n*****s' height, any pair of prying eyes had the nicest window into the collision zone of her breasts.

"I will widen the seams, soon as I get home!" Andrea nodded, then she canted her head and drew up her shoulders questioningly. "So — so it's good? I mean, my — my breasts, becoming so full and heavy, and all that milk — I'm twenty, isn't that supposed to happen way earlier? Look at Sandy, she's been, like —" Andrea's hands painted something better than twice her own curviness in the air, "— like that years before me. And these days where I'm not myself and I wail about nothing, only to snarl at Rick the very next moment —"

Reeta brushed away Andrea's fearful question with a wave of her hand.

"Full and heavy? With you being Mariana's former maid, I'd say you know better than to call yourself full and heavy straight-faced! So you came into bloom a bit later, that's bound to happen to someone. The later it comes, the longer it lasts, eh? No, dear, nothing's wrong with you at all. Nice and firm in front and rear, don't you dare to speak ill of your own body. Oh, and the bloat and the anger, the trial of womenfolk through the ages! Who of us hasn't had these moods, darling? It comes and goes with the moon, girl, and it's never as bad as it seems in our minds. Don't you worry, it's what all of us women feel."

"We do?" Andrea exhaled. "That's a relief."

The long late afternoon walk from the village to her isolated hut never seemed as short to Andrea as today. The weight of several boulders had been lifted from her shoulders, and she danced even though the swaying and bobbing it caused in her marvelous handfuls reminded her of bouncing boulders still.

Andrea sneaked down the footpath to Rick's little pier. Her naked soles made no sound on the warm sand, and the soft wind moved her dress, but not enough to give her away with a flutter or a rustle. As she stalked her favorite prey, she ate him up with her eyes and congratulated herself to the hunk of a catch she'd made. Every now and then a gust moved his shoulder-long hair far enough out of the way to grant her a peek at his chiseled jaw.

David had shed his tunic and stood with nothing but his loincloth by the thin poles that held up his frail fishnet, sewing up the holes. He rolled his shoulders to loosen the aching shoulder blades, and Andrea stifled a hungry growl. The well-defined, sweaty muscles on his bronzed triangular back glistened in the setting sun. Rick raised his heels, reaching for a torn thread higher up. The sinews on the back of his knees framed the onset of his contracting calves.

Need him, now! Andrea's fingers bent greedily. She leaned forward and pounced. His body stiffened under her impact as she wrapped her arms around his chest and felt up his hard midriff.

"Good news!" laughed Andrea, clinging to her startled husband from behind. Her fingers moved independently and homed in on his loincloth, searching for the tying knot. "Guess what? It's what happens to all girls when they become real women!"

"What?" frowned Rick. Reluctantly, she let go of him and took a step backwards. He turned to face her, and her gorgeous sight immediately smoothed the wrinkles on his forehead.

Andrea canted her hips and put her arms akimbo, proudly thrusting out her ample chest. Her clothes groaned a warning.

Come and get them, cup and knead them, chirped her thoughts.

"I talked to old Reeta Mawson about me growing and the bad moods and stuff, and she said it's something all of us women go through, but we just don't talk about it." She rolled her shoulders and smiled seductively. "So now your bride is finally all the woman you'll ever need."