Chapter 10

In the space of an hour, the character of the surf underwent a complete change. The long, even swells continued, but short, choppy waves built up, riding the backs of the smoother swells. Instead of beach-length crests, the newly forming pattern presented peaking seas that produced a chaotic jumble of individual breakers. The height of the waves increased with incredible speed, until some looked the size of a large building to Myra.

She and the dog had worked their way almost to the south end of the beach, at least a mile from the path, and she discovered belatedly that the tide had been coming in. A low, sheer ledge of rock extended outward toward the surf between her and the path, and she saw that the water had risen enough for the foam to be heaping itself on the outer tip of the ledge.

"Hey, Soldier! We'd better head back! The waves will be breaking on that ledge pretty quick." She felt no alarm; she was on a wide part of the beach and could easily wait out the tide, but she felt no enthusiasm over a wait of three or four hours. Still, she felt no need to hurry, and she stopped several times to examine some stranded bit of sea life she had previously overlooked. She was amused at Soldier's growing restiveness and got down on her knees twice to hug and reassure him.

She was still some distance from the ledge when the first breaker rode up its tip. The sudden heaping of the water and the height of the spume awed her.

"Good God, Soldier! We'd better not get caught by one of those!" She ran then, suddenly realizing that there was no remaining period of grace.

But they had waited too long. In the few minutes it took to reach the ledge, a train of higher waves reached the beach. Every one of them crashed on the ledge, piling up and roaring inward along the sheer sides with tremendous walls of spray shooting into the air. At the ledge, Myra realized at once that she had no chance of climbing up the face; there was am overhang she had not noticed before. Irritated at herself, she turned away and prepared to wait out the tide.

She was puzzled by its behavior, however. She had visited the beach frequently while at Pulsegate, and she had had some opportunity to see how the tides came and went. Not once had she seen the water line advance as rapidly as it was doing this day. The looming clouds boiled and rolled so fast that she could hardly help suspecting a connection between the oncoming storm and the extra vigor of the tide. When that thought occurred to her, she grew alarmed. If the storm could make the tide come in that much faster, it might also make it pile higher; she might not be safe as she had assumed.

Soldier's behavior furnished additional fuel for alarm. He was distinctly uneasy. He prowled from water's edge to bluffs and back repeatedly, and he growled frequently at the ominous front of the storm. The thunder was rumbling almost continuously, now, and an occasional sharp clap seemed to jar the dog's nerves severely.

The rising tide drove Myra and Soldier back toward the bluff. With only a few yards of dry beach left, the edge of the storm reached them. Rain began explosively; huge drops pelted her, then were replaced by torrents of hard-driven downpour. In an instant, she was drenched. To her horror, the onslaught appeared to give new impetus to the tide, and as she pressed against the foot of the bluff, foam lapped at her ankles.

Soldier took matters into his own jaws. He caught at the hem of her skirt and tugged at her. With evident agitation, he coaxed her to follow him. Hopefully, she raced after him. The big dog showed considerable unhappiness, but he slogged along the base of the cliff with an air of knowing where he was going. Within moments, he was scrambling over broken rock toward a low ledge.

The wind, having come with the rain, shrieked along the face of the bluff and whipped at Myra as she clambered onto the tumbled rocks. Her skirt rose to stand out from her waist like a flag; and horizontally driving raindrops stung her naked thighs like shotgun pellets. She bit her lip and doggedly struggled toward the ledge.

Soldier gained level footing and stopped, waiting anxiously for her. When she joined him, he whirled and slunk along the ledge. They rounded a projection, and Soldier ducked into a deep crevice. Myra steeled her nerves and plunged into the gloomy passage behind him. If the tide rose much further, she told herself grimly, it would flood the recess and trap them like rats. But they obviously had no chance of survival on the beach.

A few yards in from the entrance, the passage widened abruptly; a dimly lighted cavern lay before them. Although the passage itself had been free of sand or debris--she wondered if it had been scoured clean by earlier storm waves--great heaps of dried seaweed lay along the walls of the cave. The floor of the cavern was covered by sand, but light filtering from above revealed that it consisted of a series of broad, steplike ledges leading upward. She raced toward the back, hoping to find a tunnel or crack leading toward the upper plateau. No such escape appeared; overhead, a broad shaft opened to daylight. Rainwater was cascading down one side of the chimney to collect in a stream at the foot of one wall of the cave. Except for that trough at the wall, the floor of the chamber was dry.

Soldier pressed against Myra's leg. He wagged his tail and looked up at her, then backed away and shook himself. The spray that flew from his coat reminded her of her own soggy condition. Immediately, she began to feel uncomfortable and clammy; her clothes clung to her with the disagreeable chill of wet synthetics.

The air was still unseasonably warm, and none of the wind penetrated the cave. She could strip and let her clothes dry while she waited out the storm. But she suspected that Soldier would interpret nakedness as an invitation to a resumption of his recent sexual exploits.

The thought sent a sharp thrill over her and made her crotch feel suddenly tight. Her excitement level was still high, and she remembered the sensations from her encounter with the dog pleasurably. Although the pleasure came back clearly to her, she found that she could recall none of the specific feelings that made Soldier different from a human, and the realization annoyed her.

"I wonder," she mused. "How about it, Soldier? Was it all that good?"

She could reinforce her decision to scrap old taboos no more forcefully than by deliberately permitting him to mount her again. They would have absolute privacy for some time, and a boring wait would be aggravated by the discomfort of her wet garments. Even while she pondered the matter, her desire for sex rose. The dog looked more powerful to her than she had realized; his haunches bulged with reserve strength and drive, and his forequarters seemed to have been designed broad and deep for the purpose of hugging a mate to his belly.

As if sensing something unusual in her study, he faced her with forepaws widely planted, head cocked, and an inquisitive expression in his eyes.

"Oh, what the hell!" she exclaimed loudly. "Why not? Come on, Soldier! Let's fuck!" She raised her voice in defiance of the frightened inner voice that shrieked at her to reconsider.

The dog whimpered eagerly and shifted his weight from foot to foot when she unzipped her skirt. She kicked off her sandals while she was working the clammy material over her hips. Pushing the skirt off her legs, she stepped out of it and dropped it to the floor. Soldier showed visible signs of inability to contain his interest; he surged two quick steps closer and whined deep in his throat.

For a moment, Myra hesitated as to which item should come off next. If she wanted to complete her undressing before the dog lost control of himself, she probably ought to leave her panties on until last. On the other hand...

She decided abruptly. With a fluttery sensation in the pit of her stomach, she thrust her panties off her hips and struggled to get them off her thighs. Soldier was upon her. As her pubic hair appeared, he jammed his nose to the space between her thighs and butted with a peremptory jerk of his head. She laughed and pushed his muzzle aside. Handicapped, she fought to remove the panties with one hand, but when they reached her knees another demanding thrust of Soldier's head drove his nose against her pussy. She gasped and flinched violently. Her knees jerked apart, ripping the flimsy garment into two ragged pieces. The remnants of the panties slipped to her feet, and she planted herself with feet widely apart while she fumbled at the fasteners on her blouse.

Soldier ignored her efforts. He nosed at the exposed flesh of her twat and began exploring it with his tongue.

Myra's teeth chattered. "G-g-good God, Soldier! I didn't think I'd ever forget how good that tongue could make me feel! But, oh, it's better than I'd dreamed!"

Her hips worked spasmodically, jerking backward when the brute touched a spot that was too sensitive, and swaying toward him when his lapping failed to produce sufficient pleasure. Her fingers shook, but she finally managed to get the blouse loose. She dropped it and worked at her bra, which came free with surprisingly little trouble. Naked, she clasped her hands at the small of her back, bent her knees, and gave herself up to the excruciating delight of Soldier's tonguing.

Hot waves of excitement poured through her. Goosebumps spread over her body. Her nipples swelled and hardened, and thrills of pleasure chased up and down her spine. Her pussy felt as if It were writhing under the delicious urging of the broad tongue, and a gnawing desire welled in her belly.

Knees forward and out, she bent backward deeply. Her belly protruded, muscles quivering, and her boobs tilted toward the ceiling. She let her head hang backward while her shoulders twisted from side to side. Her breathing was labored, and involuntary groans of happiness bubbled from her lips. Her hips had grown more agitated; they jerked back and forth in a strong, rapid rhythm, jerking her pussy into Soldier's muzzle, then withdrawing it.

Soldier seemed somehow to approach the activity in a different spirit from that he had displayed before. She told herself she was imagining things--that her perception was different this time. But the feeling persisted that the dog was taking a more personal attitude. He sounded and acted as if he were sharing a highly enjoyable adventure with her, rather than treating her like a convenient and helpless toy. He seemed to respond to her reactions; when she uttered an especially strong moan of pleasure, he repeated whatever act had triggered it, and when she seemed to quiet, he shifted his line of attack.

At length, her rising excitement and the strain of the position overwhelmed her. She sank to the ground, lying on her back with her knees parted and elevated. Soldier gave no evidence of disapproval; he lowered his head and continued his licking without interruption. She had felt her labia swelling and opening. She had felt a succession of warm surges inside her cuntmouth and knew that she was oozing pussy-juice. The delicate membranes of her vulva throbbed fiercely, and each stroke of the patient tongue made her feel as if a jagged file were being lightly drawn across raw tissues. She pressed the heels of her hands to the sides of her head and shook herself slowly from side to side, keeping pace with the surges of excitement that coursed inward from her cunt.