Chapter 3: Sally of the Seychelles

“Sybil honey? Can you shape shift into something really strange and exotic for me?”

Sybil is more interesting and more important than re-floating EROS!

“Haven’t you already fucked me, as a mermaid, as a pair of back to back Siamese twins, and as a goatgirl Draenei figure from MMO WOW? Now, you ask for a change, into some REALLY strange and exotic being?

Just what, err ahem, just how would you classify those predecessor fantasy manifestations?” Sybil giggles.

“Well, some of my fantasies are a bit embarrassing!”

“Thank goodness, you have enough moral fiber to be embarrassed by your perversions, if not ashamed of them! Otherwise, wouldn’t you be considered totally depraved? Don’t worry my evil minded sex maniac. Goblins essentially adore sexual depravity! Part of our monster nature. Well darling, what do you want your willing, accommodating, doting, sexy monster girlfriend to become?”

“As you know, I like fleshy, meaty pussies, and enjoy eating pussy.”

“We both enjoy you eating pussy. What plump pudenda equipped extra-delicious succulent creature have you in mind?”

“A really generous pussy I could stick my entire head inside? Please stop laughing at me! It’s inhibiting!”

Sybil is rolling about on the bed, fiercely hugging her quaking ribs, hysterical in a paroxysm of unbridled glee. Suddenly, quicker than eye and mind can register, a shaking, quivering huge pussy adorns my bed. Laughter echoes from within, distant, deep, subterranean.

“Does this resemble your fantasy lover?” Sybil gently suggests. The huge labia peel apart so I can partially see inside the creamy pink crevasse.

“Better, even sexier, than I imagined. And a conversational pussy at that!”

Sybil rolls partially onto one side, demonstrating, pussy and ass go together. Makes sense. Who wants a fake front, like a Hollywood western town film set? Sybil’s puckered anus lip syncs.

“I’m talking out my ass, silly!”

“Cute.” Not very. What else can I say? Offensive to mention most folks prefer to avoid talking to assholes.”

“Want an anal blowjob?” Sybil protrudes a fleshy tongue out of her ass and yawns, the tongue hanging low, jerking in tempo with her pants. Sybil’s ass is panting for me. Charger rears his brainless head. My cock is without discretion or discrimination. Pleasure the only agenda.

“Not just now, thanks anyway, Sybil.” Sybil blows a disappointed raspberry at me. Sounds like a wet fart. Smells like one, too! A knock on the door. Timely interruption. Opening the door a mere crack, I observe stoic Laura holding her nose.

“What’s up Laura? Nose bleed?”

“No Sir. Uh! I presume you have that mermaid in there with you? The entire upper house stinks of fish!” Laura mutters matter-of-factly. Bolder, she adds.

“I’m here to report that, our stolen boat, and thieving deserters have been arrested in Port of Diego Suarez, Madagascar. Official inquiry stipulates, if you wish to press charges, appearance in person is mandatory. Only if you press charges. Beg your pardon for my independent initiative, early this morning, I informed all ports within range, our boat was stolen. If that oversteps...”

“You did well, Captain Laura. Yes, please inform Madagascan officialdom, I intend to bring charges. Don’t look shocked! Demotion was a temporary necessity until I learned to trust you. Now I do. You are relief captain, my second, and in full command in my absence.”

“Thank you, Sir!” Laura attempts, fails, can’t avoid appearing pleased.

“May I be personal for a moment, Sir? If you should ever desire, err, want feminine companionship, of your own species, and err, ah, nearer your own, ah, maturity, well then, I’d be honored, willing to ah, volunteer, my, err, ah,...”

“Would you like some of this, Laura?” Stepping quickly through my rapidly opened, faster re-closed door, I present my humble self in person. And stiffly proud, big header Charger, standing at attention, for Laura’s naked admiration and inspection.

Taking her nerveless unresisting hand, placed it on my thick veined shaft. Big eyes encourage me, and I reach into her waistband, discovering her generous wetness. Licking my withdrawn fingers, I announce.

“You smell distinctly fishy, too! Laura.”

“I’m sorry, Sir, it’s this blasted tropical heat.” Laura is aqueezing her thighs tight together to stop seepage.

“Don’t apologize! I enjoy pussy that smells like pussy. Bigger the aroma, better the flavor!”

“Can we be less formal, Sir, if you intend we become intimate?”

“Call me Phill.”

“Too familiar, Sir, but might I call you Cappy? In private?”

“Of course, Ma’am, yes you may! Shall we fore-go the sirs and ma’am s?” Laura grins assent. “Please inform Lindsay and Gwen, Gwendolyn? Of the new informality. Also inform them, volunteers are welcomed.”