When the sea calls



The heat is unbearable for her. For days now the temperature has been over 35 degrees and the only way to cool down offers the Plage du Prado. Marion looks at the vastness of the sea of Marseille and watches a can being spat out by the huge waves and then pulled back in. She feels the same way in the hot summer heat, like flotsam, which determines its direction by waves. Louis, Marion’s friend, sits next to her on the blanket and leafs through the magazine she brought with her; he has been devoting all his attention to the »Le journal des femmes« for hours. From time to time he jumps into the water and then turns back to the secrets of the women in search of the unfathomable depths of Marion. She loves the sight of his tanned skin when it has just left the sea and single drops slowly evaporate. She loves the scent of sun cream and salt, a combination that always excites Marion. She senses how the sweat between her legs mixes with her lust.


»Marion, you’re a mermaid«, Louis says and turns to her. »What?«, Marion is torn from her thoughts. »You are a mermaid. Mermaids always masturbate in the water and that’s exactly what you do. There is a diagram here with which you can assign the habits of masturbation. You only satisfy yourself in the bathtub or in the shower, never elsewhere«, Louis is pleased as if he had discovered the truth of all women with this report and got to know his girlfriend a little better.

But it’s true, Marion seeks stimulation in the water. Only then does she circle her fingers over her clitoris until she reaches her climax and loses her orgasm in the bath water. Sometimes Louis sits at the edge and observes her. He enjoys the view when Marion turns her eyes on him and her cheeks glow, and she excites his presence even more, expecting what he could do to her, how she longs for his touch, and how he only lets his gaze wander over her lusty curves. Like a mermaid she moves her hips carefully from one side to the other.

Louis drops the magazine and throws himself at her. Only briefly he touches her sex between her thighs. He pushes her swimsuit a bit to the side to get even more certainty, then he looks deep into her eyes. For a moment they linger, silently, two vibrating bodies, longingly at the mercy of the heat and their lust.


A shadow forms over their heads and Marion blinks through her hungry eyes. Richard their mutual friend disturbs the supposed idyll and lies down with them. He watches Louis rubbing against Marion’s body and how his limb disappears between her legs. He watches as Marion eagerly spreads her thighs, receptively and devotedly for an adventure of three. She reaches for Richard’s hand and leads it to her mouth. Louis watches Richard pull his swimming trunks down to receive his cock from Marion’s lips. It’s not the first time they’ve touched each other like this. A unique symphony of pleasure, like a delicate musical composition, they caress each body part of the other and live the moment in the hour in which youthfulness is inherent. Marion occupies her favourite position. She kneels on all fours to serve Richard and to be taken by Louis simultaneously. Richard and Louis, her lovers, she could not dare to adore one of them less. Both are so different and loveable at the same time. And both can’t keep their hands off Marion. A deep understanding carries their inner desire, like the waves of the Plage du Prado.


Marion’s serene submissiveness is driving them out of their mind. There is no doubt about her beauty. When she searches for intimacy with her big green eyes, she will always be cared for. Her dark blue swimsuit covers her breasts, but not her sex. Louis has liberated it to watch his cock slowly disappear and how individual drops of lust shimmer in the sun as soon as he reappears between her vulva. It reminds him of a painting by »Balthus«, who possesses a childlike innocence, but at the same time challenged by a frivolous attitude; Marion, as she kneels in front of Richard and sucks his cock with pleasure; how Richard ties her curly hair together in order to see even better; how he looks at his friend from time to time, and in doing so, how he rekelt, watching with tension how Louis penetrates Marion’s vagina. Three bodies merge into a bundle of greed and fulfillment. One orgasm after the other fades away like an echo of dancing nymphs.


»Marion! Marion, wake up!«, Louis shakes her arm. »Look who’s here.« Drunk asleep, Marion opens her eyes. She dreamt everything. She looks at her blue swimsuit and her nipples, which push through the fabric like little buttons. A strong excitement fills her sex and she looks at the vastness of the sea of Marseille, where once a can being spat out by the huge waves and then pulled back in. Then she looks at Louis, who embraces his friend Richard and how both of them stand expectantly in front of her. The beach is crowded with people. It was her fantasy and she wants to return to the place where Richard, Louis and her were undisturbed. »I am a mermaid Louis and you know what that means. Let’s swim behind the rocks, where waves hit the stones and determine our direction like flotsam«. The three friends turn their backs on the Plage du Prado and disappear into the glittering sea until their heads vanish like little stars on the horizon.