I Welcomed Summer to My Shores: A Summer Storm

Great big ice-cream scoops of clouds blew inland from the blue horizon, splintering and shattering with the morning sun. The wind they rode in on forced me to shift my weight on the old Honda, turning easy sea road curves into tenser negotiations. Well, not too tense, not enough to worry me or to set my mind to the weather. If you ignored those clouds towering to the washed out moon, you’d think you were staring up at an electric blue cyclorama, the sun a radioactive spot lamp. Tripods, flash stands clattered out of my memory, smashing to bits on the tarmac at 60kph, handing out morning coffee to the ghosts of models and crew. I forced my attention back to the road unwinding beneath me, anything not to have to remember the bad old days of seriously working.

Just as well, the turn off for Summer’s beach-house was fast approaching.

It was a week ago that I had staggered out of the swell, and flopped on to the beach.

Heavy feet crunched on sand, fading into the regular steady shiver of the waves crashing, the sets breaking. I settled into the soft rhythm. Just for the crocodilian menace to lightly boot me in the ribs; having retrieved her stuff, dressed and crunched her way back up the beach to my prone body.

I let her kick me over like a washed-up corpse. Even let out a “bleh” for effect.

—And stared up at a pair of legs that went right up to heaven, the pearly gates looking a lot like cream white under-boob.

I sat up quick smart and whistled low. Summer was wearing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt in the loosest sense of the word “wearing”. Somewhere in the poor t-shirt’s lifespan it had lost the lower half of its body, the words “KING GIZZARD AND THE LIZARD WIZARD” could be made out before it turned to tatters, under-boob and taut white stomach. The shorts could barely warrant the name shorts. The girl let her dirty blonde hair hide her cheeks, her faltering laugh flying over the waves.

“U-Usually I’ve got the bathers b’neath.”

My tongue was too well tied. Summer just took a deep breath, grinned at me, and started stomping up the bush track, shouting along to keep up. She gleefully watched me change before asking me to give her a lift home; I obliged.

 

The turn off was a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it blind turn down an embankment, the incline a tradie’s joke on the inhabitants of Summer’s shack, the only house on the road.

30 seconds later, and much closer to the sound of crashing ocean, I let the CB purr to a stop in front of Summer’s front gate, white paint peeling off the rusting iron in ragged strips. The hinges screamed murder as I pushed it open, wandering down one of the concreted tire tracks, dodging grass that has never known the bite of steel.

I skipped the rotten wooden steps up to the verandah that hid the shack’s face from the road, jumping from #2 to #5, and found myself in front of the girl’s door. I gave it a good whack.

Nothing.

I checked my watch. 11:32. She’s either asleep or surfing. Nothing else apparently went through the girl’s head.

Jumping off the front verandah, I navigated the beds long gone to seed and gracefully clambered over the fence, checking curtained window after curtained window until I jumped up on to the back porch.

Jesus Christ. Summer was apparently out: pure white curtains fluttered out towards the sea, the girl had left her back doors wide open. I poked my head inside and gave a cooee just to be sure. Bugger all. An empty space on an otherwise full rack of surfboards solved the mystery of the missing crocodile.

I took a shortcut through the girl’s house, dodging the empties, grabbing a half full bottle of J. Squire I had forgotten on a bookshelf on my way out, locking the door behind me. The bottle joined it’s compatriots in the forlorn recyclables, overgrown with weeds.

I rode back down the coast road for a few ks until I found the now familiar potholed path that led to what had become our private beach.

Kickstand in lock, helmet and leather jacket dumped, I crashed through the bush quick enough to slash my arm on the way down. Rubbing spit into the wound I looked for the girl among the breakers and found her perfect form quickly. It was something to see, like she had popped out of her mother’s fundamental on a goddamn board.

Sand crunched under foot as I followed her down the beach, admiring the stabs of sunlight that glanced off her golden armour; her pure and utter focus on riding the perfect line, slicing through the surf, foam boiling in the air. Switching, flicking out the arse-end, her heavy tail just about decapitating a wave. I watched and watched until I noticed a flash of bright flotsam on the waterline. 2 white fabric triangles, connected at one corner, with long strings at each other corner.

I looked up at the figure even now growing larger on the blue backdrop. Summer was having to make do with a bikini until she bought a new suit… Could it be?

I waved the white flag at the girl. She nearly fell off her board.

I was grinning like the proverbial cheshire cat that had gotten into the “cream” by the time she came ashore, stomping through the shin high swell towards me, cupping her bouncing chest with a paw.

“OI. Surf-rat. Hand it over!”
“Surf-rat? …Me? Why that isn’t my-” I danced out of range of her swipe, “-name.”
“Isn’t it? What would you pre-” dodged again, “-FER! Just “Rat” by itself?”
“Lessee, lessee, hrmm, this is an awfully small patch of cloth isn’t it?”
“I’ve had to make do with the one I wore when I was a highschooler, GIMME!” I was already up to the treeline by now, if she wasn’t trying to cover her dignity I’d have been well fucked.

“Oh hoh? It’s so small, did they call you Spring back then? Summer now… When your tits start to sag: Autumn; and when you can play hacky-sack with your nip-” looking down, I suddenly found myself standing over my body, wracked with spasms, on the shadowed trail: a Summer sized bruise beginning to show on my solar plexus. Then my sight realigned with the dirt and the pain started.

“S-sor-…Sorry… Summer. Fuck.”
“Sorry? Did. You. Say. Something. Mate?”

Summer is fucking scary. She has scary teeth. All the scarier when you’re on the ground and she’s looming over you, fluffy blonde hair blocking out the strangled sunlight, that scar across her crocodilian eye a pale slash over golden skin, swinging a bikini on a claw. She basked in my hacking for breath and offered me a hand up, a good sport.

I staggered up to my bike, the crocodile-girl bush bashing back down to the beach for her board. By the time she had returned and lashed her board to my bike my diaphragm had started functioning properly. She shrugged my jacket on her sandy, seawater-wet shoulders, daring me to say something when I winced. I threw her the helmet too.

“Shouldn’t you use this?”
“Wearing a helmet just means it takes you weeks, months, or a lifetime to die if you come unstuck. Much better to die instantly than be picking gravel out of your arse with a toothpick for the next decade.”
“So it’s okay for me to be like that?”
“…You’re not allowed to die.”

Summer looked torn. Between continuing to draw out her pissed off pouting for as long as possible or to tease me for the line. I made the decision for her.

“Lets get you into a shower. Then I’ll take you to the shops to buy a new wetsuit, howsat?”

She flicked a long leg over the back of the bike and stared at me expectantly. Well there’s my day sorted out. I kicked the bike into gear. 

 

Summer dumped my jacket, hopped over her verandah rail and locked the front door behind her, leaving me to lean against my bike, brushing dried sand out of the jacket’s sleeves. 

The cooling metal clicked and ticked. Far off, behind locks and weatherboard, a shower started up full blast. I stared forlornly at the door like a dog that had been thrown out of the house. My brows knit in thought, I could feel the skin ridge as I unlashed Summer’s board. Yeah. That’s exactly what I am right now. A dog in the shit with it’s master. Ah well, she’ll forgive me, it’s not like she didn’t punch me ‘alf hard enough. 

The world dimmed, a cloth thrown across the sun. I craned my neck to watch the massive cloud’s passage across the sky, every now and then light would burn through a thinner part of the mass, throwing a ray down. The cliff that the lot backed onto loomed over me in the dark. A hard breeze got the shack groaning on it’s piles, overgrown foliage whispered to me in it’s sweet rotting gloom. 

The door slammed to behind me. I spun on my heel lazily, Summer cycling into my vision. The sun escaped the cloud and lit up her past-it shack, then her, then me, then our path onwards. The croc-girl swung a full hip at me, a silent “oi, comment on my outfit already” demand. 

“You can really rock a high waisted pair of shorts can’tchya? …Tame Impala this time, huh,” the jacket and helmet tossed towards her punctuated my sentence.
Summer looked at the jacket for a moment, then shrugged the black leather over her t-shirt, this time intact and tucked into her denim shorts, “Damn right I can… You’re pretty at ease with the whole “dying in a motorcycle crash” thing are’djaa-” 
I slammed the top of the helmet, slipping it past her armoured ear-tips, freeing her cheeks, “just like surfing ain’t it? You can have your tackle ripped off by a shark just as soon as blinking. You weigh the odds, risk ya luck and make do with what ya get. C’mon.”

The Honda nosed around in a tight arc, pointing back up the Evel Knievel slope, the rear shocks sighed, depressed by the weight of the girl clambering on back. Cool keratin slid rough against my spine, felt through flimsy cotton shirt, Summer was tucking her tail in. She whacked my shoulder, raised her feet to the recently bolted on passenger pegs and I pushed off, opening up the throttle wide on low gear.

Sky. Clouds. Blue.

Our centre of balance threatened to slide away back down the hill; we both sighed when the front shocks took our weight. A quick dip to our right, and we were on our way up the coast to the shops. 

 

Tarmac splayed out on its reel. I couldn’t tell if Summer was nuzzling into the back of my neck on purpose, or was just trying to deal with the glass whip wind. Her perky breasts pushing into my back were definitely a tactical decision though, her nipples only started to harden against tenser and tenser shoulderblades. I felt like a 10 pound wire with a 100 tonne weight on the end. The engine coughed in protest when I fucked up a shift; Summer’s perky, sand covered breasts bouncing behind her golden hand filling my thoughts. 

Summer was the type who immediately saw when they had an opening, and then jumped at it, all or nothing. I’ll give ya that info for free. Anyone who watched her surf could tell you that much anyways. But when you’re going 75 in a 60 on an ocean road, pinion, you really want your passenger to keep her hands to herself. 

Even if she could have heard me over the banshee wail of the wind I doubt she’d have given me any rest, not when she was blithely ignoring me shaking my head as violently as you can and still keep two wheels upright. I almost slammed the front brake on when a sharp claw popped the fly on my jeans. The speedo fell sharp, even as something else rose despite all my wishing otherwise. The evil crocodile-girl let her rock hard knuckles rest on the violently vibrating gas tank as her soft palms slid up and down my cock, I could feel her press even more of her body against my back, imagine the creamy white, sweat slick skin of those breasts, the flushing nipp-

-Ar! Car! Fuck… Even as I tightened up the turn, even as the car going the opposite way passed us by, flashing it’s lights like a pissed off cuttlefish, even as all that went hurtling by, Summer kept up her slow rubbing. 

It was all coming, bubbling, tide coming in, waves crashing, rip pulling out, the speedo ticked down. Those Summer sun warmed hands had me right at the brink of the sea road’s cliff face, and I was falling, falling, falling over, edging towards… Edging… 

I felt my loins tighten, my the muscles that bound my spine cheesewire sharp, those soft breasts yielding to the tensors, I felt the bike hum beneath me and the wind scouring me clean. I was right… Ther—

A guillotine crashed down on my neck. Hard harsh hands strangled out the orgasm, tightened to a throttle, my hands cracked, fingers splayed then crushed shut in a rigor grip. Front brakes jammed to and we nearly went sailing over the bars arse over tit. 

The back wobbled out, a fish slipping out of my grasp even as Summer clutched hard to me. 

A shitty primary school flashed by on the road. Kids gone.

A turn was coming. 20kph.

A highschool that was way beyond my academic ambition lost in the corner. Crying parents.

Sea to my right. 10kph. 

The university where I drank my way through a photojournalism degree sank into the ocean. Friends lost.

Bush to my left.

The skyscraper that held my first and last proper job collapsed into the bush. Thousands of photographs flutter away like autumn leaves.

I wrestled the CB down, fighting harder than the cornered crocodile stuck on the bloody back, throwing out the balance with her own attempts to stay upright at all cost. 

Front wheel hit dirt and shot out leaf litter like an artillery barrage. My heart stopped as my world tilted over, situation unsalvageable. 

Leg down, the weight of the damn bike threatening to pin me right there, I tried to hop again, to keep upright. Summer kicked us up long enough for us both to clear the bike as it went down like a sack of shit, metal screaming on tarmac, chain shredding foliage, gear box howling. 

Tossed down an embankment, I stared up at the sky through the trees. My heart started pumping again, a hard ache where I landed echoed the beat. Scrambling up the slope now, staggering, on my belly like a wasted snake, reaching, fumbling, turning, ignition killed. 

I noticed how hard my hands were shaking now. 

Shivering in the scrub reminded me of my attempted murderer. Turning to the girl I looked straight fucking through her, like she wasn’t even there, couldn’t focus on her, only that shivering sea out beyond. 

“…Ahahaha, t-that didn’t turn out to be as funny as I thought it would be.”
“No fuckin kidding! Are you fucked in the head? My heart’s in my fuckin mouth and my cock and balls have been sucked so deep into my body I’m going to have to fish them out with a pair of tongs when I need to piss!” 

Summer tried to stand, unsteady, falling, righting herself on a tree, she wrenched the helmet off her head, blonde hair an utter write off. Staggering up to me, staggering up past me, staggering to the bike she righted it, forced the jammed kickstand down. Summer stood there, hands balled up in rock hard fists, staring out to the sea, her shoulders shaking every time she forced a steady lungful of air into her violently spasming chest.  

I spared a glance for the bike, looking up over my shoulder, Summer seen from a low angle. Her face from below a hard set mask. Raw metal shone dully through scoured off paint, I now rode a “onda CB45”. 

“Hey. H-hey. I’m so bloody sorry man…” 

I couldn’t say anything. I just drew my knees to my chest and stared up into the dark depths of the bush. 

Leather peeled away from sweat soaked skin, clung to clothes, Summer draped my jacket round my shoulders. I sunk into it, sunk into the smell of Summer, her sweat and body and the things she liked and I felt better despite myself. 

“…You’re not allowed to die either.”

I looked back over my shoulder again, and Summer tried to shine just about the gamest smile I ever saw a girl about to collapse sobbing ever make. 

“I’m probably gunna have fuckin nightmares about this for the rest of my life, but… Cmon. Let’s go. It’s fine. We’re all orright, right? You’re orright aren’t ya? Lets… Just go, Summer.” 

She jumped back down into the ditch and fetched the helmet and jammed it back on her head. The motor was coaxed into firing, and I slammed down through the gears, clutch in, neutral found. 

“Hop on idiot. Christ all mighty. I’ll never tease you about ya name again if it means attempted murder.”
“W-well as long as you know the consequences of your actions! Haha… ha,” she hesitated a second or two, staring at the seat, that brutal tail flicking. Then she was on again. Summer wrapt me up in her arms from behind, possessive, engulfing, consuming, “Sorry.” 

The motorbike was nursed all the way down to the shops, the dirty living of the city coming on us, clouds the colour of spilt petrol roofed the sky, the sky here washed out to dusty haze at the horizon and heat flowed off the footpaths like time. 

 

Summer pointed out the store she wanted to search about in. Some independent surf shop, the kind that pop up and pop down just as quick. Capitalist whack-a-mole. I reluctantly brought the bike to a stop on the empty lot beside the shop, fearing if it stopped it’d never start again. Summer had to get the stand again. Goddamn, the repairs will be a pain in the arse. 

“Hey. Don’t worry about your bike, I’ll get a mechanic I know to fix it f’me. Mates rates.”
“Did it show on my face that bad?”
“Even if you had a decent poker face I’d still offer, I make things right…” At that she strode up to me, that great golden hand that had earlier brought me so close to heaven flexed once, then reached for my own. I grabbed the searching hand first. 

Her face lit up, surprise first, then pure glow. 

“…I really fucked up today love, I- I… Just,” turning to face me, hand tightening around my own, chin tilting up, I could feel her pulse just standing next to her, “I thought I’d tease ya, then I almost killed ya, and I’m still bloody shaking, still can’t stop thinking about what could’ve happened-“
“Shame you didn’t do that before you gave me a handjob on a fucking motorcycle. You’d probably need more than a mechanic to piece your skull back together y’know.”
She thunked her blonde head into my shoulder, “Cmon, don’t rub it in. Y’know I… I love you. Love you as much as surfing. I’d give my legs to keep you safe… Even just after a week of dating.”

We stood there in that grassy, empty lot, in the shadow of the store, the light growing weak for the cloud banks. I pulled Summer tight to me.

“I’m just so… Grateful… Relieved? Y’nahmean?” 
“Y’won’t try to kill me again Summer?”
“I’ll try not to.”
“Hearing such a weak answer from a Croc-girl is a bit concerning.” She just smiled wide in response, teeth on edge, and lead me by the hand into the storefront. 

Summer just about slammed the door off it’s hinges, a cop with a battering ram couldn’t have done a better job. I just cringed. The shopgirl on the other hand didn’t even look up from her phone. 

“Maya!” Summer bolted, jumping on the rail thin girl round the neck, a high tackle if there ever was one.
“God damn it Summer… You know I can’t cover every single one of your shifts just because you want to surf.”
“Wait, you work here Summer?”
The girl looked up at that, peering over Summer, scanning the boards, the wetsuits, supplies, until she spotted me; her pretty, dark eyed face laconic, “Yeah. Maybe.”
“C’mon Maya, don’t be like that, y’know, I just kinda forget about this place sometimes.”
“Oh, really. I thought it was because you were an idiot who ran on impulse alone. But apparently you’re just a forgetful idiot.”
“…Are you two friends?”

The “yeah?” they gave was in perfect sync. I left them alone to bicker, picking my own way through the store that Summer apparently worked for. It was nice. I’d come back when I actually had money to spend. That thought left me sighing up at the ceiling. The shop had arranged their surfboards to be displayed from their roof, rising and falling in waves, the storefront a lot longer than it was wide.

Then I saw something that made me crack to a perfect short stop. 

“World Surfing Championship Winner!” Newspaper clipping after newspaper clipping, framed and tacked onto a wall. From juniors to a couple of years ago. You could see Summer growing up on the board, surfing through time. 

Summer had disappeared into the back. 

“H-hey Maya.”
“Yeah?”
“Just what capacity does Summer work here?”
“Work? I don’t think she works at all, unless you believe her bullshit when she says surf practice is absolutely, totally, and completely legitimate work when you’re a world pro. Nah. She’s the co-owner. Thats what the letterhead tells me anyways.”
“Maya.”
“What?”
“Am I dating someone kind of incredible?”
“…You didn’t know? Seriously? Wow. You two’re a match made in heaven.”
Summer shoved her blonde head back into the storefront, materialising out of thin air, “Yeah we are! Hey, you’re getting surf-rat all over our stuff, come in back for a sec.” 

 

I followed the Croc-girl’s swinging tail into the gloom of the storerooms, Summer giggling over her double entendre. We passed cracked boards, fibreglass repair kits, lost scuba gear, bottles of beer warming to perfect petri dishes, finally reaching Summer’s apparent goal: the shelves of wetsuits. 

“We gotta come to m’shop to get the kinda suit I like~”
“I wondered about that, I like the calf high shorts, but y’don’t see many people surfing in racing suits d’ya?”
“…Hrmm, nah, spose not.”
“So? Why?”
Her blue eyes caught the low light and sparked, a grin fit to sin snug on her mug, “I prefer these tanlines, they’re super hot right?” Summer stretched her T-shirt collar out to prove her point.
“Fair enough.”
“Heheh, I saw how y’looked, you can’t play too cool with me mate, I’m gunna try on a new one that’s just came in, you’re here to judge~”

Thats all the warning I got; the crocodile-girl turning her back to me and struggling off her t-shirt right there in between the dak shelves stacked high to the roof, the cold fluro lights casting stark shadows through the dark gloom. The cloth had caught on one of her golden plates that ran up her spine. I took a step forward to help; ears pricking, Summer shied away and got it uncaught. A crocodile-plated hand hid her cute breasts from sight when she twisted towards me, piffing her discarded t-shirt at my face. Senses full of Summer’s smell, I wrenched the sweat damp shirt clear, and paused—

Before me in the cool half light, cream skin shining like the moon, tanned flesh faded into the gloom, those reptile plates glowed with an inner light: Summer was bent over at the waist, her heart shaped arse waving as she negotiated those shorts off her lithe form. Her heavy tail and those stark shadows hid her sex from my sight. 

I swallowed on reflex. 

Summer stretched up, sharp claws reaching for the ceiling, her shoulder blades rolling smoothly beneath her skin, those armoured plates flexing with her spine, muscle groups flowed with her flesh, tail twisting. She finished her stretch with a sweet moan. 

Summer spared me a look over her shoulder. Her eyes were all I could make out in the dimness. Her pupils, dark slashes in pools of colour waivered in the light, sucking in more of me, letting in more of me. 

She kept watching me even as she shimmied her chosen suit up her long, brown legs, flicking her tail into it’s waiting aperture, letting the slick feel of the material meet her nipples and pull just taunt across her chest as the straps snapped across her shoulders.

If my mouth wasn’t as dry as the Sahara, I would’ve gulped again as she slunk towards me in that white racing suit. 

“What ya reckon?”
“I-it suits, it suits you.”
She closed in, “heheh, that all y’got to say? Goan don’t be shy, out with it!”
“Yeah yeah, you can pick a wetsuit that suits you but not a good time to give some a handjob can’t y—ah. Summer—”

The girl tensed up like she’d been hit by a bolt right out of the blue. Fists balled up in an iron bending grip. Her blonde shock of hair fell about her hung head. When her jaw relaxed, when Summer let her lips return to fullness from hard white lines, I could barely hear what passed between them: “Well… Howabout now?”
“Summer, I went too far.”
“No,” Summer slipped her cool arms around my neck, letting her body press against mine, “no, I’m an idiot, I can’t figure out how to fix this. All I know how to do is surf, that’s all I’m good at, everything else I just do what seems like a good idea at the time…”
“That’s fine, it’s fine, Sum-” sharp claws dug into my shoulders, the girl’s head flicked up, Summer shoved her face a hair’s breath from my own.
“Its not fine! Its not! You can’t just say its fine and try to leave it like that! You can’t! That’s why… I thought, I could…” Summer’s eye’s threatened to water up, her brows knit tight together, jaw set hard. Then the high tide of her fight seemed to pull out, taking her strength with it. Her claws pulled out of my shoulders, her soft pads massaging the flesh.

“Hey… Summer,” I took her cheek into my palm, and ran my thumb down the scars that cut across her eyelid, pressing it shut, letting a tear roll down her cheek and dry against our skin, “y’know, you tried to bottle a goddamn shark-girl for me and got messed up too… I think we can call it even.”
The crocodile-girl ground her teeth again, her cute face contorted to hurt, “I don’t want to think about debts when I’m with you! Its not about that, that’s not what I want!”
“Then what do you want Summer?”
“I wanna… Finish what I started before.”
“Trying to kill me?”
She finally cracked a small smile, even as I staggered from the blow to my shoulder, “Fuck you!”
“So, what were you going to do?”
“Jus’ told ya—”

Her soft lips were hard against mine before I could register Summer moving, her tongue pressing hard against my teeth, forcing itself between when my jaw slackened in shock. Her strong, lithe, sun-kissed body following her lips, I felt her rub against me like static electricity down my nerves. The girl moaned softly into my mouth when her swimsuit clad nipples dragged down my chest as she searched for my belt bucking, grinding against her hip.

Even after the shock of the day I could feel myself respond to her gasps, her smell, the sight of her heavy lidded eyes in the dark lee of my shoulders, her hands stroking me through my undies, the orgasm that nearly killed us earlier building up again. 

Finally hard again, she slipped me free of my cotton confines; I shivered to the cool, light touch of Summer’s fine scaled hands, the even cooler air caressing my skin. 

Summer let my cockhead grind against her muscled abdomen, letting my pre soak into the fabric. A hand on my shaft pressed me to her, stuck me to her, the other pressing my shoulder, forcing me back onto the shelving. In a single swift manoeuvre,  Summer kicked a handy box behind my knees and forced me down upon it, my cockhead grinding hard against her slick stomach; gasping, I clapped my hands to her toned arse. Summer’s eyes lit up with some kind of inner-glow, now she knew she had leverage upon her prey, and she used it, she let gravity force my cock hard through her sopping folds, I could draw an anatomical diagram from the sensations I felt through that swimsuit’s material. 

The girl raised herself up again, the kiss that came this time was softer, way too sweet to ever appear in a porno. Our lips parted with a string connecting us still, catching the half-light. Summer smiled at me, strong and honest, and slicked her fingers with our mixed saliva, bringing the hand down to mix into my pre, to lube up my cock. 

“This is just for you surf-rat, who trespassed on my territory.” 

Her soft, cool hand left the heat of my cock and found her own love-slick thighs, sliding up to find the crevice where flesh met cloth at her crotch. Her other hand left my shoulder to meet it’s sister where our bodies entwined; gently taking a hold of, and stroking my cock. She guided it to the waiting gap between her flushing flesh and the sopping swimsuit, when my cockhead slid between them it was like I had sailed between Charybdis and Scylla. 

Summer and I both shivered, my head ground through her slick, blood flushed folds, sparking across her clit like licking a battery. Gasping, sucking hard for air, for each other, her hips in my hands I pulled her down and she settled her crotch heavily upon me.

I could smell the light, lingering brushes of sea, salt and sand in her hair; her lips seeking my throat, teeth tracing razors over veins and arteries. Summer forced another shiver out of me, dragging the tip of her tongue up my neck, latching lightly on an earlobe. Her breath burned, soft moans setting me aflame as she crushed us together, melting me into her waiting folds.

Sweat on Summer’s bare shoulders caught pin pricks of the half light, her face cast in the shadow of her utter focus on my cock dragging through her sex. Her sopping thighs, the smells, the sensation of our bodies mingling, all snatched at our senses and caught our breath, hitching in our throats. 

I could feel that lost orgasm find and bear down upon me once again, the only threat now was Summer’s enraptured nibbling and biting at me. That and the dangerous sensation of my cock sliding between that sex slick swimsuit, and Summer’s flushed clit grinding against the sensitive underside of my glans. 

Summer’s thighs shivered, her back tried to arch against her will, her need to hold me close, her moans raised in pitch and tempo. 

I ground up hard, and the girl’s blonde head flicked back, lips parting from my throat with a pop, her breasts jiggling against their neoprene prison. 

In a single swift motion I forced Summer’s mouth to my own and flipped her over, leaving the box behind, damp with sweat and sex. 

The blue of her eyes flashed wide, her pupils tightened, suddenly finding herself supporting herself on her thick crocodilian tail, abs rippling under skin and fabric, her claws tightening into my shoulders, her scaled calves cracked to my hips on reflex, keratin striking hip bone. 

I didn’t let up for a second, not when Summer released a muffled cry of surprise into my mouth, nor when my hips were hit, really it only spurred me on. I fucked Summer down into her tail, struggling to keep it’s balance as my cock slammed down on her clit, as her folds clung to me and the wetsuit cut into both of our skins. 

My pace was faster, more demanding than hers, my balls desperate to release two orgasm’s worth of semen. Our hips met with a wet suck, echoed by Summer’s cries of pleasure that filled our mouths. 

We hit our peak at the same time. Summer’s back arched like a bridge, her legs locking in tight, screaming into our kiss. My balls tightened to bursting, my loins tensed up like the silence before the explosion’s shockwave passes. I saw stars: I was getting sucked out through my cock. 

Summer’s heaving stomach was coated in my cum, soaking through the wetsuit, glistening patches of damp on the white. 

Together our nerves and muscles unknit; Summer’s tail collapsed on her, forcing me to my knees as I saved her on the way down, my cock slipping free of her skin and suit. 

I leaned back to admire my girlfriend, tanned cheeks flushing red, hiding her face behind a heavy hand, trying to catch her breath in a daze. Her wetsuit had turned transclucent at her crotch, the puffy, pink flushed skin of her vulva showing clearly. My semen slid and settled into the hollows of her body. 

The overwhelming need to kiss her took over, pulling away her lightly resistant arm I took her lips in a soft kiss. We kissed there in the dim shadows, surrounded by the stacks of shelves and the smell of our sex. 

“—ou two! Oi you two!” Maya? “I’m not coming back there, hurry up and get out though, the weather-guy said a big storm is coming. So. Get out. I want to close up the shop before it hits!”
Summer relunctantly broke the kiss, “Maaaaya~ 5 more minutes!”
“I’ll just lock you in here y’know. You can clean up after the storm too.”
“We’re coming, we’re coming, jus’ a sec.”

I’m seriously concerned about this girl’s work ethic.

“Don’t look at me like that, there might be some really good surfing when the storm passes.”
“…Look, even if that’s true—”
“It is, and anyways, I think I left the windows open at home, and I need to prepare the house too. You have to help.”
“Hurry up you two!”
I caved in, “Yeah, we should get going Summer – Jus’ a sec Maya!”

Summer shivered in what could’ve been delight when she pulled her shorts back on, squelching cum laden fabric to her skin. We had to tear off the wetsuit’s price tag. Maya just tried to keep a straight face as she scanned the barcode then hurried us out of the store, reminding Summer of her shifts as we went. 

Up above the clouds had turned ink black, whipped along by a howling wind.

“Betchya we’ll get back before it starts pissing down.”
“…If I win?”
“Hmm,” Summer stroked her chin as the clouds settled heavier in the sky. “Ah! If you win you can try out my butt, after securing all my boards whilst I have a shower.”
“And if I lose?”
“You get to secure all my boards whilst I have a shower.”
“No matter what, I’m getting set up.”
“You’re a sharp one, stud.”
“Get on the damn bike and hope it doesn’t rain.” 

I nosed the ‘onda onwards. Summer let her tail curl around us, heavy muscle, bone and plate resting on my thighs, the tip a metronome flicking with the girl’s amusement. 

 

The first drop of rain plinked off the tip of my nose as I killed the motor, fighting the weight of the machine beneath the shabby car port that drunkenly leaned against Summer’s beach house. Any port in a storm as they say. You didn’t have to know the sea’s moods all that well to tell how bad this was gonna get. 

“This is gunna suck.”
The crocodilian girl awkwardly stood staring upwards, even as a well aimed raindrop splattered against her cheekbone. Summer, startled, shook her head, sun-bleached mop fluffing cutely.
“Guess I lost the bet.”
“Tch. Yeah, oh well… Man, I knew it was gunna be a big ‘un when I smelled it on the wind this mornin’.”
“Why didn’t you secure your damn boards then!?”
She cocked her head at me like I was insane, “…I wanted to catch the swell?”
“Go have your bloody shower Summer.”
“Ehehe, cmon, don’t be like thaaaaat.”
“What’re you waiting for, go on, I can get around back by m’self.”
Summer’s thighs slipped against each other, her tail flicking listlessly, “Ah. Well. All your cum’s collected near my pussy and whenever I move it squelches against me.”
“…Pervert. I’m going now. The rain’s already getting wor—” a nigh-perfectly timed bolt of lightning shattered the summer air, thunder crashing at it’s heels over the cliffs. Somewhere in the heavens someone had turned the faucet on and down on earth Summer pranced through the freezing sheet of water, armoured hands in her crotch, bolting for her front door even as the dirt turned to mud. 

Already soaked to the bone, I set about securing the girl’s house as she took a long shower to clean off my cum. 

Inside Summer’s beach house the sound of the storm pressed in hard around you, the howling wind sucking the light out of the day, leaving you with nothing but flapping weatherboard, screaming trees, apocalyptic thunder, buckshot raindrops and the ancient essential thrill of awe as you huddled in the humid dry.

Summer was there, waiting for me to close up the back porch’s storm shutters. Before I could even slide the door closed she was wrapping her hot, damp towel around my freezing wet shoulders. Her arms followed the towel around my neck, pulling my back to her bare chest, pulling me into warmth and safety. 

I admired the heavy limbs that held me fast, tan skin giving way to thick scales below the elbow, the keratin having an infinite depth of gold to molasses; the remains of her shower flowing down through the cracks, to the soft, pale, fine scale of her palms, dripping off a razor claw.

With deceptive ease she pulled the cap off one of my beers, pressing the freezing thing against one of my nipples, chuckling into my ear as I jumped. She tightened her grip on me as I brought the beer to my lips.

“Thanks, I think.”
Her reply was little more than a sultry purr, “Hey… You just did all that hard work for me, I can show my gratitude can’t I?”
“Mmm…”
“You’re so cold, a drowned surf-rat, heh… Come warm up in bed with me.”

We worked together to peel the sopping wet clothes off my frame, stumbling over furniture in the dark as Summer beckoned me on to her room. The flash bulb of lightning lit the girl up, form lost in the vertical bars of the storm shutter’s shadow. You could make out the untouched skin of a breast, the glisten of her sex, the dark swing of her tail, the shine off a plated ear tip, the glint of a grin pulled tight over canines, the heavy mass of her monstrous limbs. Like a strobe the storm lit up Summer, and left dazzling afterimages floating before my eyes.

Summer’s downy bed sighed as well fell upon it entwinned, even as the house groaned on it’s piles in the storm, the sea thrashing itself down below in a rage.

Rain became sweat sliding off my back, between her cleavage, down her thighs. Summer’s skin slick to touch.

Our flesh drowned out the tree limbs’ futile cracking against the shutters.

Together, storm and sex, reached the apex of ecstasy and fury; Summer added her voice to the howling wind, as my balls churned with the violent surf. Cut adrift, we found ourselves in the perfect calm of each other’s bodies, as the universe raged beyond the shutters of our world.

And the storm passed.

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