Francesca Block: Mer, from Nymph

"We've met? I think I'd have remembered you, sweetheart."

"It was a long time ago, Mac." She adds matter-of-factly, "You were unconscious."

Tom sits beside her on the sprung sofa. She plays with her hair, pulling the heavy knotty strands up off her face. She has very high cheekbones and a small firm chin, which makes her lips look even fuller. "What's your name?" Tom asks.

"Mer."

He shakes his head.

"Do you want to fill me in here, darling?"

Instead she smiles again and pulls his shirt off of her. She lifts her hands to her hair again so her breasts rise. The areoles are big and dark. He wants to hide his hard cock. She takes his tense hands in hers and presses them against her breasts. An electric shock goes through him at their breadth and smooth fullness. They feel soft and heavy and almost buzzing with sensation. She throws her head back and moans roughly as he fingers her nipples. Her whole body shudders, and she takes his head and gently draws him to her left breast; his tongue circles the nipple and her body is shaking more now. She leans closer to him, pressing her big succulent mouth to his neck. His breath comes in gasps and his heart pounds as if he is drowning. She moves over his rough, bare, sun-darkened chest with her lips. His cock feels huge, full of ocean.

"Who are you?"

She keeps going, looking up at him sometimes, smiling with those sharp white teeth that could tear; he gently touches the back of her head, the tender nape of her neck, stroking her. Her spine looks fluid and fragile. She undoes his shorts slowly, softly, her nimble fingers sliding the zipper down carefully to avoid his erection. Then he's out, big in her hand. Holding him she slithers back up and runs her tongue over his mouth, parting his lips with hers, sliding her tongue into him. The salt taste of his dream. He jolts up feeling her fingers move on his cock. She goes down again, this time her mouth on him, taking him in all in one slide so that he feels the back of her throat.

While she licks and sucks, her lips cupping the tender head of his penis and then swallowing him to the balls, Tom is remembering the dream. That time when he had the accident. What really happened. The waves pulling him down. No air. Just this endless shining blue that he didn't really want to leave. He could have stayed there. He could have stayed. But then something was holding him; he knew he was safe. Rocking him like a baby. And her strong slender body carrying him back to the light, to the air. Because you belong here, she told him. I can't keep you. Even though you are the most beautiful of all of them. And you know my ocean more than any of them will ever know it. Tom moves with her, his groin spasming, his cock driving farther into her wetness. Suddenly there is that feeling in his balls. He doesn't want it yet but it is too much; he feels his whole body waking from some long sleep, as if he has been underwater this whole time and only now has she rescued him. He gasps for air as he breaks through the surface, his semen spurting out in milky bursts that she swallows, his cock still hard for a long time after, still coming into her lush mouth.

Mer stays with Tom MacDougal in the little beach house with the wisteria vine and the glass porch. No one knows what goes on in there, only that Mac has started surfing again, every day, up at dawn with the kids, taking the big waves, ferocious and fearless as he had been ten years ago. And that his mysterious young girlfriend in the wheelchair sits on the sand and watches him, that when he returns from the sea he plunges to his knees before her and kisses her as if she contains the breath he had lost that time he almost drowned. Maybe she does. People speculate as to how they fuck, what is under the narrow spangled sheath she always wears over her lower body. Some think she is crazy, playing out a fantasy so he can't get inside her. Maybe she'd been molested as a child or raped as a teenager traveling along the coast and that is why she invented the wheelchair thing and the costume. Others think it is real. But Mac and Mer don't care. His mouth on her tender, swollen, glossy breasts making her come when he caresses her nipples; her mouth sliding down the shaft of his thick cock, they rescue each other from land and from the sea again and again.

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Francesca Lia Blockis the author of numerous books, including three Los Angeles Times bestsellers: Dangerous Angels: The Weetzie Bat Boohs, Violet and Claire, and The Rose and The Beast. "Mer" is from Nymph, her collection of erotica. Her work has been translated into many languages and published around the world. She lives in Los Angeles with her family.

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"Mer," by Francesca Lia Block, © 2000 by Francesca Lia Block, first appeared in Nymph, by Francesca Lia Block (Circlet Press, 2000). Reprinted by permission of Circlet Press.