Chapter 2
Liz felt a sharp stab of hot pain. His grunting thrust ripped through her cherry, splitting the tender seal of flesh she had cherished for so long.
She gasped and her parted lips streamed bubbles that rose to the surface almost forty feet above their heads. He was in her all the way, smiling and kneading her left tit with one hand. The other arm circled her waist, steadying her as he humped his cock in and out.
Being a science teacher, Liz was amazed that he could maintain an erection in water that cold. Though a virgin until just a moment before, she did have clinical knowledge of human sex organs and their function. In contrast to the chilling sea, his massive cock felt like a red hot iron sliding in and out.
Painful friction mauled and strained her shivering pussy lips. The water kept washing away her sultry sex juices as they simmered up from the depths of her clinging tight cunt. But he bored into her anyway, driving hard and deep with lingering thrusts so that his stiff cock escaped the bitter cold all it could.
His cock turned cold in just the short time it was exposed, drawn back to thrust again. It felt like an icicle entering her, but heat returned quickly in the grip of her cunt. To Liz it was contrast like fire and ice.
She hugged him around the back, swaying upright beneath the sea, hanging weightless in rapture, so thrilled by the heat of his big cock that she almost forgot to breathe.
It wasn't the most comfortable or convenient way to make love, but the eerie thrill of having sex the first time underwater with a stranger made Liz feel giddy with girlish delight.
He fucked hard and fast, pausing only when they had to pass the mouthpiece and airhose back and forth to catch a breath. Liz found that to be a tantalizing kind of intimacy, and all the time she could feel his cock throbbing hard inside her slithery cunt.
Each thrust raked the ridge of flesh just back of his cockhead across the split in her cherry. Traces of blood from that tingling wound were carried to the lips of her twat by the rush of fuck honey he whipped up in her cunt.
Blood looks black underwater. It swirled around her pussy slit, not rising, not sinking -- just there. Liz closed her eyes and moaned, clutching him desperately, feeling her cunt clench and squirm to delight his hard-driving cock.
Romantic visions flashed through her mind just as her life had passed before her when she expected to drown. Liz could hardly believe she'd been so impulsive, sucking the cock of a man she didn't know, now letting him fuck her cherry away.
But having almost died as a virgin, she felt no guilt for giving in. This handsome stranger, who-ever he was, had saved her life. She'd be dead without him, and not have to think about moral issues.
They clutched and groped, fucking like a wild pair of wantons under the sea. Primed by all the romantic novels she had read, Liz felt herself falling madly in love. Their plot was a bit off... sucking and fucking before they were even introduced, but in the thrill of the moment that seemed a small matter.
His muscular body excited her almost as much as his cock. Liz moaned and ran her hands all over his back. He clamped his hands on her rubber-sheathed ass cheeks, digging his fingers into taut flesh, yanking her back and forth while his dick pumped.
Frenzied passion was fast using up the air in his scuba tank. It was meant to serve one person breathing normally, not two so crazed with lust that their heart rate and respiration was doubled.
It was getting hard to suck air from the life-giving hose. Liz felt a slight twinge of fear, recalling the stark terror of being trapped in the tangle of fishing line, but rampant desire overpowered more practical concerns.
She wanted desperately to enthrall this man who'd saved her life and taken her cherry. Her pussy rippled and pulsed with undulating waves of motion meant to entice him. Liz saw misty visions of them getting married, having a honeymoon in a real bed and settling down in a suburban home to raise a family.
Liz could see herself knitting little booties when she told her dream lover about the baby growing inside her. A classic cornball scene. He was thinking along more practical lines and reached back to open the air-reserve valve on his scuba tank.
That was meant to give a diver another five minutes of air under normal circumstances. With two of them breathing hard and wasting some air each time they passed the mouthpiece back and forth, maybe they had one minute left.
He rushed to finish before then, increasing the speed of his thrusts, twisting and reaming his cock so that her sleek cunt waves tingled nerves all around his long shaft.
Spiral thrusts tore her broken maidenhead even more. Seeping blood swirled around the writhing pair like a vaporous black cloud.
Sharks can detect vibrations underwater from hundreds of yards away -- the violent thrashing of a wounded fish excites their instinctive hunger. The scent of blood in the water arouses the fearsome predators even more.
The leopard shark Liz had seen earlier circled back and swam around them, curious but still wary. His kind have lived in the sea unchanged for millions of years. They are graceful killing and eating machines perfectly designed for that purpose. Their oversized, underslung jaw contains row after row of sharp teeth like a rip saw.
Even the small leopard shark had a mouth big enough to bite off an arm, but the two struggling creatures he saw were both larger than he was. Cautious by nature, some even say cowardly, the leopard shark was reluctant to attack such large creatures. It kept circling in wary frustration. If one of the odd beasts killed the other, he would rush in and devour the remains.
Liz felt that odd prickle that comes when you know someone is watching you from behind. She looked around and saw the shark with its mouth gaping and its beady little eyes fixed intently on them.
"Hunnngh!" she grunted in alarm, pounding a fist on her lover's back, then pointing. He seemed annoyed by the distraction and kept fucking, wanting to finish before their air ran out.
What the hell, it was only a leopard shark, and not a very big one at that. John Sylver had seen far worse things under the sea. He was a professional diver, once a Navy frogman, now a freelance salvage master and part-time treasure hunter. There wasn't much underwater that really worried him.
If Liz had known his background, it would have enhanced all her romantic notions -- here was the daring adventurer she'd always dreamed of, the devilish rogue who took his pleasure without concern.
She felt his body stiffen and saw rushing bubbles burst from his taut lips. He reamed his cock deep and held her pressed close to him with hands clamped on her ass. His cock swelled and seemed to explode, jetting cum like a high pressure hose.
"Aaagggh!" was her watery cry. It was done! He had made her a woman. She was taking cum and loving every hot creamy spurt, gasping and moaning as her pussy spasmed into the wrenching convulsions of climax.
Her wringing cunt rippled and sucked on his gushing dick. He held her and kept pumping cum. Even John Sylver was caught up in the unusual thrill of their strange encounter. Blind with rapture, neither of them noticed a longer dark shape that circled further away... right on the misty fringe of their vision.
John caught a glimpse of it just as he fired his last shot. Another shark. Not a small, timid leopard this time. It was a ferocious Great White shark sixteen feet long. It's cavernous jaw was big enough to bite a man in half... and it was closing in.
He nudged the woman and eased his cock out. She turned her head to follow his worried glance and felt panic worse than when she was tangled in the fishing line. The circling torpedo shape was the largest thing she'd ever seen underwater.
Liz kicked wildly to reach the surface, but John grabbed her foot and yanked her back down. Showing fear was the worst thing they could do. He felt like a damn fool with his wet suit open and his dick hanging out, but he made a tentative charge at the shark.
Startled by his show of aggression, the ponderous beast backed off a little. John held her hand and started to ascend slowly, growing more tense because he knew they would be most vulnerable on the surface.
Not that it would matter if the Great White attacked, but John tucked his sated cock back into the open front of his wet suit. They were still rising, turning around to keep their eyes off the circling shark.
It caught the scent of blood seeping from her torn cherry. It streamed from her crotch like a filmy ribbon, twisted around and round by the way they kept turning. Liz then became aware of the scent trail she was leaving behind, and she became too strickened with horror to even think about breathing.
She motioned for her lover to draw his diving knife. He shook his head and dismissed the idea with a shrug. Divers only stab big sharks in the movies. If the Great White came in for the kill, it would rush at them with mind-blurring speed. A shark's skin is tougher than cowhide, rougher than sandpaper. Trying to cut an attacking shark would be like trying to stab a speeding freight train before it ran over them.
Liz could only think, "I'm going to die after all!" And she knew it would not be the dreamy kind of drifting off she'd found nearly drowning to be. She'd be crushed and ripped apart by powerful jaws... a terrible, hideous way to die. Bitten apart and devoured piece by piece.
The Great White shark kept rising with them, tightening the circle as they broke the surface. Its huge dorsil fin cut the water in a tight arc, looking like the sail of a small boat.
Paul Morgan and his wife Maureen watched from the deck of their long white yacht -- a sleek sixty foot power cruiser. He gunned the twin engines to life and said, "Jesus Christ! Get the rifle Maureen!"
She ducked into the cabin and emerged with a .30-06, working the bolt to jack a hollow-point, high powered round into the chamber. Paul steered toward the circling dorsil fin, hating to think how big the shark was underneath.
It was circling his friend John... and another diver. "What the hell?" Paul had thought they were alone in the area. He throttled back and let the yacht coast toward them, scrambling down from the flying bridge to grab the gun.
He aimed for the head of the menacing dark shape and fired. Water geysered up as the bullet plunged in. The shark was hit, but it barely moved. The beast was more distracted by the rumbling noise of the boat engines than a bullet that ripped through its head only inches from its small brain.
Paul fired again, feeling his hands and his forehead glaze with sweat. The millionaire playboy had hunted big game all over the world -- Polar bears in Alaska, elephant, rhino and Cape buffalo in Africa -- but never a beast as immune to pain as the shark seemed to be.
It took a second shot through the head and kept circling tighter around the pair in the water. Now wounded, it was in a rage... more dangerous than before.
Maureen ducked back into the cabin and came out with a 12 gauge shotgun, an autoloader with the magazine full of magnum load double-aught buckshot. She shouldered the weapon and fired, squeezing the trigger again as soon as she recovered from recoil that was like a mule kick.
She pumped six rounds of buckshot into the shark's head. Paul blasted it three more times with the rifle. The shark was slowing down now, streaming blood like a gory sprinkling can.
When the wounded, raging shark was on the far side of them, John grabbed Liz by the arm and yanked hard, swimming to reach a boarding ladder hanging off the stern of Morgan's white yacht.
Liz was numbed by terror, shocked by the roaring blasts of gunfire and the zing of bullets passing over her head. She couldn't swim to save herself. He had to drag her to the boat, gasping and sputtering like a drowning child.
Paul and his pretty wife had to reload. They started firing again just as John reached the ladder. He grabbed the bottom rung in one hand and pulled Liz toward it with the other. "Up!" he said to her. "Move your ass or get it bitten off!"
The shark swung a tight turn and raced after them, half dead but still dangerous. Morgan's rifle and the rapid-firing shotgun blazed fire and threw a hail of lead over their heads.
John had to push the terrified woman up the ladder, still hanging off the bottom rung until she was on the deck. Liz wasn't thinking about romantic fiction right then, but it was an act more courageous than any she'd ever read about.
She scrambled on deck, gasping and thankful to be alive. Never had solid wood felt so good under her feet. Sylver kicked off his swim fins so he could climb faster. The wounded, blood steaming shark was only a few yards away and coming in fast.
He pawed his way up the ladder and the wounded Great White crashed into the hull just under his feet. The bottom half of the ladder shattered and fell away. The shark rolled on its side and ate it -- metal rails, wooden rungs and all. They heard it crunch in those massive jaws.
Maureen leaned over the rail and fired three round of buckshot almost straight down. Deadly pellets peppered the shark's white belly. The shark rolled again, over and over in its death throes.
The wary leopard shark was still watching. It streaked through the water like a black bullet and tore at one of the Great White's gaping belly wounds. And there were now at least a dozen other dorsil fins circling the dying big hulk.
Sylver stood by the rail, gasping for breath, holding Liz close beside him. She was still so weak in the knees, she needed the strength of his arm just to stand up.
"That could have been us," he said. The sharks thrashed into a feeding frenzy, crazed by the river of blood pouring from the Great White's many wounds.
The others rushed in, ripping and tearing away great hunks of flesh. Liz felt a weakening sense of relief, but watching the big shark get torn to pieces made her start to feel sick. "Oooh, God... it's awful."
`Better him than us," Sylver said with a shrug. The savage shark attack excited him strangely. Watching the horror and holding a warm, stunning beauty so near combined to make his cock twitch and start to swell hard again.
Paul put away the weapons and climbed back up the ladder to the flying bridge. He took the wheel and roared the engines, steering the yacht further out to sea, leaving the mad swirl of shark fins and torn flesh far behind.
His curious wife Maureen approached the pair standing close to the stern rail. "Wow, that was close!" she said mainly to John.
"Tell me about it," he said, pulling off the hood of his wet suit. Then he loosened the harness of his heavy scuba tank and set it down on the deck.
Maureen was a ripely built redhead in her mid-to-late twenties -- full breasted and blessed with a bountiful ass. Her shoulder-length hair had the color and sparkle of fire, and the woman's whole being seemed to exude sultry heat from her crowning blaze of hair.
She studied the taller, more slender woman who was nervously peeling off her wet suit and trying to get the bottom of her bikini back on at the same time. Tiny speckles of blood spotted the deck beneath her feet.
"Oh, Jeez... looks like you got nipped," Maureen said with concern.
John Sylver wanted to laugh, but he could see the rescued damsel blush. He strained to remain politely silent and helped her off with her diving gear. By the way she hugged and kissed him so passionately when they first met, he hadn't thought she might be a virgin.
Now he knew. Her torn cherry was still seeping, far more than a typical deflowered virgin because of the wild way her heart still raced. He felt a glow of male pride having been first into such a stunning beauty, but felt just a tad guilty at the same time.
In a way he'd taken advantage of her mental state of near hysteria... and his rampant lust for her damn near got them both killed. It was along way from being the best sex he'd ever had... but it was damn sure the most unusual!
He grinned sheepishly and said, "My name's John Sylver. S -- Y -- L -- V -- E -- R." he spelled his last name out of habit.
"Liz Randolph," she answered, relieved enough to see humor in the wake of their narrow escape. "That's L -- I -- Z. Randolph, R -- A -- N -- " They all broke out laughing before she finished.
Maureen had now traced the speckles of blood back to their source. The front wedge of Liz Randolph's string bikini was stained with dibbling cum and cherry juice. She said to John like a scolding parent, "God damn, you popped her cherry out there, and just now you get around to saying hello?" Liz sighed and shook her head, still amused and quite willing to admit, "It was an odd way to start a relationship." She told the redhead about being trapped underwater in a tangle of fishing line, then realized, "I don't know your name -- "
"It's Maureen. That's my husband Paul up on the bridge." He heard his name mentioned and turned to wave.
"I'm pleased to meet you both," Liz replied, just now starting to calm down. "And you, Mr. Sylver... with a Y."
"The pleasure was all mine," he said, "but please call me John."
Maureen smirked at them both. "You can call him Long John if you want... like Long John Silver, the pirate in `Treasure Island.' You must know by now how he got that for a nickname."
Liz blushed. "Er, y-y-yes. I know... but h-hhow did you find out?"
"Well, you might say he's gone skindiving with me before. Diving sssooo deep, huh John?"
"Just the way you like it," he muttered, wishing the conversation had not taken this turn. He could see it bothered Liz.
One of the teacher's romantic illusions was shattered already. She had no reason to think a rugged, bronze-tanned hunk like Long John Sylver would still be a male virgin at his age, but the casual way he and the redhead joked about having sex together really surprised her.
"You -- you two have made love? What about your husband?"
"Oh, he likes to watch. We have what you might call an open marriage. Wide open, if you know what I mean."
"Aaahhh, y-y-yes." Liz felt her voice quake and her mind started to reel. It wasn't so much the idea of infidelity and an open marriage, but how casual they were about it. She wondered what kind of situation she'd blundered into.
Maureen sensed her discomfort and said, "You must be cold. Let's go below and get you some dry clothes."
"Oooh, yes! I'd like that." Liz looked back at John, and felt her heart ache. He was a rogue just like the heroes in books she'd read. That hurt and excited her at the same time.
The aft cabin of the Morgan's yacht was more spacious and luxurious than Liz could have imagined. The round bed was blanketed with black mink and reflected in the mirrored ceiling above. The ornate bathroom fixtures were glittering gold, and the sunken heart-shaped bathtub looked big enough for two.
"Our little lovenest," Maureen explained modestly. She bent down and ran steaming hot water into the tub. Liz slipped out of her wet bikini and stepped into the bath with a thankful sigh.
Maureen switched on the whirlpool pump and began to undress. Liz basked in the warming swirl from the steaming hot jets and watched her strip off a white middy blouse with red piping. The woman's breasts were big and lush with large nipples rimmed by silver dollar-size circles of rose colored flesh.
Then Maureen slid out of red bell-bottom pants. that appeared to have been molded to fit her voluptuous curves -- a bountiful ass and a soft, ripely domed pussy mound furred with a broad "V" of fiery red cunthair. It looked like her crotch was ablaze.
Liz had not paid much attention to other women before. She had not seen one naked since gym classes in college, and there it was considered most impolite to stare. She did now, feeling a nervous twinge of envy. Maureen's full, sweeping curves were so much more abundant than her own.
It was not hard to see why John Sylver had been drawn to the sultry redhead, but the thought of him fucking her still brought twinges of jealous pain. Maureen smiled at her and stepped down into the tub.
"It's nothing serious," she said as though able to read the young teacher's mind. "John and me, I mean. We just like to have fun."
"W-w-with your husband watching?" Liz still found that most difficult to accept.
"It turns him on," she explained simply. "Paul never fucks me better than when I've been with another man."
"Oooh, Lord." Liz shuddered as the woman settled into the other lobe of the heart-shaped tub.
"Don't be so quick to reject what you haven't tried," Maureen suggested with an intent look. Her arm reached out and circled Liz at the shoulder. "John will get really hot if he watches you with someone else."
"No," Liz said flatly. "I don't want another man!"
"Who said a man? I mean John wants to watch you with me."