5 comments/ 14229 views/ 22 favorites The Catch By: DarknessAtNoon AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is an authorized, but unofficial sequel to Groade's story "The Chase". I strongly suggest that you read his story first. While the one before you now can be read on its own, you will profit from reading "The Chase" first. All characters of legal age (18+). The Catch That giggle broke her stupor, and she quickly freed him of his soaking jeans and his boxers. Finally, only his wet t-shirt remained, clinging to his body. She gave a sensual growl as she saw the bulge where the waterlogged fabric clung to his erection. Standing tip-toed for another fervent kiss, she reached under his shirt, gently pulling his foreskin back taut, then jacking him roughly until he moaned into that feral kiss. She chuckled and flashed him an impish grin, but he gently pushed her hand away. He quickly pulled his wet shirt over his head and flung it out of the shower; and leaning into her, he gently bit her chin, making her squeak and laugh in surprise. Lindsay's lips travelled down from her chin across her neck, drinking the warm water from her collar bones, and then from her breasts. Sifania's pealing laugh turned dark and husky. In between her giggles, she murmured confused words of love and appreciation to Lindsay, all in her age-old language, but all as clear to him as plain English. Her giggles turned to tender, yearning moans as he reached her belly, and she buried her hands in his wet hair, urging him further down. She froze when his caresses reached her sex. Her mouth agape, she gave several short groans as his tongue -- warmer than faefire, softer than velvet, wetter than morning dew -- caressed her nether lips and finally her clit in steady, eager licks. "Lindsay!" The Sidhe grimaced and squirmed with pleasure, her fingers raking through his hair. Her beloved lapped away at her as if she were a delicious treat, drinking the warm water along with her wetness. She bent over him, trying to meet his eyes with hers; as though he sensed her wish, he briefly opened his eyes, looking up at her, before he closed them again, giving a happy little sound as he kissed and licked her with redoubled vigour. Sifania grunted, her hips spreading wide on their own, her hips curving forward, eager to help him love her. Higher and higher her pleasure drove her, her body taut and arched, her head thrown back, until she felt so close to floating, almost weightless. "More-" she begged, squeezing her eyes shut, picturing Lindsay's warm, affectionate gaze. She gently pressed his head forward into her lap and whined: "Oh, Lindsay, please, more!" She grunted again, loudly, when she felt his hands flitting over the bumps on her back, caressing each one separately, and she realized dimly that he was not afraid of her anymore, that he just wanted to give her pleasure. The thought jolted through her body like lightning, and she clawed at his hair, giving short, soft cries, her pleasure peaking in her loins. "Lind-SAY!" Sifania squeaked her lover's name as her orgasm hit, and thankfully his instinct told him not to cease his caresses: So long as his velvety tongue was on her pulsing clit, wave after wave of pleasure kept coursing through her, until she finally lifted her trembling hands from his hair. Panting and teetering she stood there, all woozy and tingly, while he looked up at her with a warm smile. Her knees gave way, and she slid down onto her knees. Slumped onto him, she rested her chin on his shoulder, and they just knelt there while the shower kept them warm. It took quite a while for Sifania to regain her breath. This time, she did not resist when Lindsay gently brushed the wet hair from her face. Despite that bony ridge at her eyebrows, despite that petrified scowl he could not say that he found her ugly. Now that he was no longer scared of the Sidhe, her feral leer only turned him on more. "So, you think you can get away with that, huh? Think you can pleasure a Sidhe without getting anything in return?" Her playfully evil snarl startled him from his fascinated stare. "Just you wait," she growled menacingly, "now you'll get your due." Hoisting him to his feet, she placed him under the shower's warm drizzle. With a few lilting words, one spell firmly rooted his feet to the shower floor, preventing him from slipping. Another kept him standing upright, even if his legs should give in -- the spell would support him. She chuckled darkly. "Remember the last time we did it in the shower?" He just nodded quietly, too aroused to speak. Effortlessly, she lifted herself off the ground, wrapping her arms and legs around him. He briefly noticed how light she was, almost weightless... Then she dropped her hips. "SIFANIAAAH!!" Lindsay wailed her name as he felt himself plunged into her juicy heat, so silky and so snug, his erection immediately responding with an intense, wet spurt -- so intense that he felt a sweet sting in his very tip. "AH, SIFANIAH, AH!" He cried out again as another spurt shot from his tip, and he struggled against the pleasure to keep his eyes open, overwhelmed by the perverse urge to stare into those radiant, feral eyes of hers that took possession of his very soul. Sifania cocked her head to the side and smiled -- she was radiant, beautiful! -- and purred: "Cum!" Lindsay cried her name once more, as that one word, laced with a simple but effective spell, sent another orgasm to his hips. Sifania's grin widened, showing off her sharp fangs, and she tightened the lock of her arms and legs, smooshing his shuddering, pleasure-shaken body against her. Three happy cries of her name, three pleasurably intense first spurts into her waiting, gripping sex - and then she purred again: "Cum!" And another orgasm crashed into the previous, driving Lindsay half-crazy with pleasure. One more time she repeated this playful sequence, then she let him come down from his peak. Without unhanding him, she sat them both down on the shower floor -- child's play for the spellcraft of a Sidhe! Eventually, she lifted herself off him. Seating herself next to him, she put her arm around his waist, and they leaned together, neither of them speaking a word. Sifania gently caressed his inner thigh with her free hand; she enjoyed listening to his breathing while it slowed from quick, dishevelled panting to a relaxed, tired rhythm. "Better than the last time in the shower, huh?" she asked impishly. "Incredible," Lindsay sighed. Sifania beamed. "That's what happens when you do not resist me," she murmured. "No pain, only pleasure." Lindsay buried his face in her wet hair and cooed softly. He enjoyed the peaceful afterglow, and how sweet she seemed, and how happy she was. He knew that each time she made love to him, the Sidhe's sway over him increased. But so long as she was this sweet and gentle with him, what did it matter? Now that her tenderness had subdued his fear, his warm, kind side fully returned to life -- and he enjoyed the affection she kindled in his heart, instead of dreading it as before. Lindsay reached over Sifania's head to turn off the shower, but paused on a whim, and then grabbed the secondary shower head from its mounting. After checking the beam for temperature and intensity on his arm, he began to move it over her body in slow, small circles. Sifania stretched herself long, arching her back, stretching her arms towards the ceiling. Lindsay let the warm spray travel up to her neck, and she responded with a long-drawn, luxuriating hum. He kissed her temple, and they both shifted and squirmed, awkwardly leaning into a passionate kiss. The way they sat now, Lindsay had to bend over her shoulder to meet her lips, and a soft ache in his neck made him break their kiss with a surprised little laugh. Great Goddess, Sifania thought, how lovely that laugh was! "Lindsay..." She growled darkly, turning her head to shoot him a smoldering glare. Lindsay smiled cheekily, playing with the shower head until the beam switched from soft rain to massage. With a look of concentration, he brought it to his lips, making sure it was warm, but not too hot. Then, he nudged Sifania into a comfortable position. She settled between his legs, resting her back against him, resting her head on his shoulder. Lindsay hummed quietly, and the gently massaging beam once more wandered over Sifania's body. This time, though, Lindsay quickly brought it down to her lap. Sifania eagerly lifted her hips, as the warm, caressing water reached the silver delta of her pubes. Petting her nether lips with the fingertips of one hand, he used the other to guide the shower beam to her clit. "FUCK!!" Sifania squeaked, her slim frame seizing. Lindsay quickly directed the shower away, worried that it was too intense and caused her pain: He had never heard the Sidhe swear before. But Sifania immediately gripped his wrist, so hard that he gave a pained little yelp, and shoved his hand back down. As soon as the beam was back on her clit, her toes curled under, and her other hand clawed at his thigh, and Lindsay understood. He dutifully kept the beam on her clit, kissing her wet hair, her cheek while she panted and squeaked. She squirmed and writhed in delectable agony, her mouth agape, grimacing with pleasure. She reached for his head, roughly petting his hair, his face, and with a hoarse, strangled cry -- "Oh Goddess, I-!" -- she gripped his other hand, pushing two of his fingers into her vagina. And then she gave another cry: "LINDSAY! LINDSAY!" And her legs kicked, and her fingers dug into his hand as her climax ripped through her with the heat and force of a comet. From her breasts on down and her knees on up, her body seemed to melt away into a spasming, pulsing, shivering mass. The first wave of her pleasure had barely washed over her, when she dimly felt his kisses on her cheek, his erection pressing against her from behind. She groaned, imagining that her vagina was not milking his fingers, but his penis; imagined him moaning her name in the throes of pleasure -- and at that, another orgasm hit. Sifania gave several maddened growls as the warm, massaging water worked its magic, bathing her hips in the most delicious, almost painfully intense contractions. She grimaced and squirmed, gripping his legs for support as she arched her nimble body into a perfect curve. Finally she batted his hands away, so sensitive that she winced at his touch. Lindsay understood, and simply wrapped his arms around her belly, hugging her gently. The Sidhe melted into his embrace, and a wave of post-orgasmic euphoria washed through her: It left her all giddy, giggling and chuckling in his arms. "Sifania?" "Mmmm." Too lazy to respond, she just hummed. "You're incredibly cute when you come," Lindsay murmured, his face buried in her wet hair. Sifania turned her head to look at him, but from her position she could only see his chin. She playfully dug her sharp fangs into his chin, so gently that it only tickled. Lindsay squeaked and laughed, and Sifania again exploded into giggles. But then she grew serious. "You know why I enjoyed it that much?" she asked, and continued without waiting for an answer: "Because you were here, with me. Thanks, Lindsay." Lindsay held her tight, fearing that his heart should burst in his chest. This wasn't a spell of hers, this wasn't the Sidhe's control over him: He deeply, genuinely felt something -- something for her. To give her pleasure filled him with purest delight, and to hear her thank him for it was more than his excited heart could bear. He brought his mouth to her ear and growled darkly: "Well, you thought you could get away with it, huh? Thought you could pleasure a human without getting anything in return?" Once more they burst into laughter. The Catch Lindsay blushed again at her saucy whispers. This time, the Sidhe didn't bother to hide her smile. He tried to avert his gaze, but she brought her hand to his cheek, petting softly. "Mmm-mmm," she admonished him softly, "no looking away now. You need to make your wish." "My wish?" She giggled. The Great Goddess alone might know what had gotten into her and given her this silly idea, but there was no stopping now. "Well, you see...I am a faerie. So, I am granting you a wish: How would you like me to take care of you -- of that?" She gave his erection a little squeeze, relieved that she had finished the question without laughing at herself. Lindsay needed a moment to stifle a laugh. Then, he simply embraced her as closely as he could, her searing stare making his heart beat so hard that no word would leave his throat. Sifania understood all the same. Softly nipping at his lower lip, she moved fully onto him. She gnawed on his chin as she scooted into position, wrapping her arms and legs around him; and although she seemed almost weightless, and her body so soft, her hug barely left him room to breathe. And as the fae locked lips with her lover, and as her tongue played with his, she needed only a tiny shove of her hips to take him into her snug heat. Lindsay petted the smooth bumps on Sifania's back, hungry for the feel of her soft body. Aroused as he was from her bites and licks, it didn't take long for Sifania to drive him over the edge. Without a single thrust of her hips, she simply held onto him tightly, feeling him shudder as her gripping vagina drove him higher and higher. She purred into his orgasmic moan as her milking sex claimed his seed. Sifania felt the wave of his climax wash through him and slowly recede, but she neither broke the kiss, nor loosened her embrace. She continued to kiss his pleasured moans from him, letting her vagina milk him, until she felt the wave of his pleasure roll back with a force, crashing over him a second time. Lindsay squirmed, gripping the bedsheets so hard that his knuckles stood out white; and his cry of her name was muffled by her hungry kiss as he delivered another, even more intense orgasm into the Sidhe. Again the wave receded, and again she would not unhand him, until again it returned, more powerful than ever. Lindsay tried to arch his body up and into her, whimpering into her mouth, his eyes wide with pleasure and shock, and Sifania quickly adjusted the hold of her arms, trying to help him snuggle up to her, his body desperate to melt into hers. Then the wave crested, and as he surrendered his spend to her waiting darkness, each pulsing spurt ached in its intensity, her sex pulling his pleasure from him to the last drop. Then Sifania reluctantly broke the kiss, and although she still kept him in that tight embrace, she finally let him come down. Lindsay's eyes were glazed over, he panted and shivered, and every now and then an aftershock sent him wincing. The Sidhe hummed softly. Nothing quite made her as happy as witnessing her lover's pleasure. So long as he was willing, so long as he gave himself to her fully, her happiness was complete. She pulled her limbs from under him, her legs about to fall asleep. Her hands found a new occupation in playing with his hair. Sifania smiled down at her chosen groom; she loved that look on his face, peaceful, fatigued, and satisfied. "I love you, Lindsay," she said, holding his head in both hands. "I'm very fond of you, too, Sifania," he replied, raking his hands through her silvery hair. Indeed: Love would have been the wrong word quite yet. Unlike a Sidhe's direct and ferocious passions, his love needed room, and time to grow. But as he smiled back at her, he felt that they were getting there, slowly, one tender step at a time. Along the way, they'd have to figure out what to do with his old life... Sifania, on the other hand, was musing about entirely different things. She was already looking forward to the night when -- for the first time -- they would travel together, instead of him hurrying away from her, and her hurrying after him. For this time she was sure he would stay, and for the first time she would wake up next to Lindsay. With a contented purr she spread herself flat on him, and began to drift off to sleep. The Catch Drew loved to fish, any kind of angling he was prepared to try. Coarse fishing occupied a lot of his spare time and he'd enjoyed a few holidays in Scotland over the years, hunting wild salmon and trout with a fly on a gossamer line, but his real love was sea fishing. His uncle John introduced him to the pastime when he was a kid. Drew lost his dad to emphysema when he was very young and inherited a string of temporary uncles, few of whom bothered to give a snotty-nosed Drew the time of day. Uncle John wasn't around for long but he took him fishing for carp at a flooded quarry a couple of times and, in that old cliché, Drew was hooked. Losing his dad to an occupational disease put Drew off coal mining, so when he came to choose a career, he sold insurance, mostly life, health and investment plans. Drew didn't break any industry records but he did all right. The business had changed wholesale since he started, most of it done over the phone nowadays but at the beginning he was put out there doing a lot of door-to-door leg work. He wasn't a bad-looking kid, he looked after himself, dressed smartly for the job, so he got a lot of offers from bored housewives but he turned them all down. He didn't consider himself a prude, he was as randy as the next man, but these desperate housewives reminded him too much of his poor Mum. Drew's mum had been lonely, desperate for love. She considered herself too young and pretty to be a widow hampered by two young kids, Drew's sister Alice is two years older. Drew's mum had to settle for short relationships, too much alcoholic drink and, Drew suspected, occasional recreational drugs. As a consequence of his Mum's desperation for affection and seeking attention elsewhere, there wasn't much time or love left over for the children, and both siblings found it difficult to establish lasting relationships themselves. Drew didn't blame Mum for his crappy childhood, they were just the hands that both of them were dealt; three duff hands if he included his sister. Both Drew and his sister Alice were still single, now well into their thirties, and both of them cold fish when it came to lasting romance. Drew only seemed to love cold fish. That's why he cultivated his friendship with his best friend Alan when they were about ten years old. Alan's dad had a little boat moored up in an estuary about twenty miles from their mining village and, by palling up with Alan, Drew wangled a few fishing trips each summer. Drew broke off the friendship briefly when they were both 15 and Alan started courting Janice, a girl Drew was rather sweet on but much too shy to ask out. After a couple of months Drew realised how much he missed Alan, even more than he missed the sea fishing, they really turned out to be good friends, after all. So, he approached Alan and Janice straight after school, shook Alan's hand and asked if they could be friends again, and Alan had embraced him without embarrassment in front of everyone. Then Janice kissed and told him that Alan had been really miserable without his best friend to bounce off. Drew didn't tell either of them exactly how he felt about Janice at the time, he would have been far too embarrassed, but that didn't stop him telling everyone at their wedding reception eight years later, through the hilarious medium of the best man's speech, the full story of how he loved them both and always would. Apparently, everyone knew already, had always known, but it did Drew good to clear the air. Janice kissed him gently when it was his turn to dance with the bride, assuring him that the couple would both always love him as the very best of theirbfriends. He was later godfather to both their kids and now they had a third one on the way. Janice kept trying to fix Drew up with her own friends with little success. The last few years they had almost exclusively been divorced or single mothers. He smiled at the recollection. No, if he was going to fall in love it was going to have to be someone very special, unfortunately Janice had set the bar way too high. Alan was on board the boat, of course, it was now partly at least his boat. His dad had lasted longer than most, but you don't get many old miners draining the pension fund for long. Alan didn't seem to spend much time fishing on this particular trip and the previous one. He was busy tinkering with the blasted engine again, ensuring he got it going again before the tide turned, in time to take them home. It had taken forever to get to the fishing grounds as it was. Alan had gone down the mine like his father, from his sixteenth birthday, but the mine had been shut for over ten years now and he was currently employed as a forklift driver at an out-of-town supermarket. He needed to take the boat that he shared with his three brothers out on his turn every four weeks with a guest or three prepared to chip in for the beer, sandwiches, bait, gas and mooring fees to make the boat pay for itself. Today, Alan's brother Jack and a friend Andy from work were invited but each had cried off at the last minute for one reason or another. Drew knew the score, and insisted Alan took fifty instead of the usual twenty. Alan knew the score too, and accepted the crisp folded notes without objection or argument, the bond between them so strong. Drew hollered down the engine hatch, "Time for a beer break, Al!" Alan poked his head, with one cheek streaked with grease, through the engine room opening, just as Drew closed up the cool box. He smoothly caught the tossed can. "Cheers!" laughed Drew. "Likewise," grinned Alan. He clambered out and joined his crew-mate sat on a bench next to the half-dozen rods trailing their lifeless hooks and lines behind and to the side of the boat. "Wow!" exclaimed Alan, looking around. "What a lovely day." Just a few puffy clouds punctuated the azure sky, a light swell barely disturbing the quiet water all around them. "You should be up here enjoying the trip, not messing about with that engine. Get that spare one put in that Pat keeps offering you." "We can't afford it, Drew, you know that, especially with the baby coming." Drew knew the situation and wished he could help. He was working on it, actually. Old Pat down at the ships' chandlers was a shrewd old sea dog, he knew the dilemma that was faced by the owners of the boat and had come up with a solution that Drew was still mulling over. Alan and his brothers couldn't afford to replace the engine but Drew could. The engine would cost half the value of the boat, so if he had a mind to he could probably negotiate a half share in the boat without the brothers having to fork out the capital investment. The difficulty then was with the running costs, which made it such a delicate matter. With the four brothers having equal shares, they could each take the boat out once a month, with two or three paying guests at a time and break even. With a fifth wheel, even if he just took the one turn every five weeks instead of every second week, the balance would shift and the brothers would eventually be unable to maintain their share and have to drop out. That would end Drew's friendly relationship with Alan's brothers and probably damage his best friendship with Alan. A prickly problem, no easy solution. Pat's plan was that Drew quietly pay for half the engine, Pat would then offer it at half-price to the brothers on easy repayment terms. Drew was still considering it. "Your father ordered that engine before he died, you know." "Yeah, I know," Alan admitted. It wasn't common knowledge, but it wasn't that much of a secret either and he'd noticed that Drew had become pretty pally with Old Pat of late so assumed it must have come up in the conversation. "Da' had banked on still drawing his pension to pay for it and him going so quick and Ma's onset of dementia, meant every penny of Ma's pension and more goes into paying the nursing home's fees." Alan felt sorry for Pat and the shame arising from the situation he shared with his brothers. Pat had paid out good money for that engine, still greased up in its packing case three years on. A lot of the other boats looked at that wooden case with covetous eyes but everyone moored in that estuary were in the same boat, so to speak. There was no-one in view within the horizon in any direction of the sound but scruffy little vessel today though, and no matter how many problems the boat may have suffered there was only brilliant sunshine and sparkling water under the clear blue skies. There was just a slight swell running, east to west, the boat easily riding up and down the gentle waves. It really was a beautiful day. They both thought this was simply perfect. "Just ten more minutes, putting the engine together," Alan promised, "And I'll fire it up again." "OK, just make sure that's all," grinned Drew. "You know, if you got Pat to put that engine in, you'd be up here enjoying the sunshine, the fishing, and the company." "Yeah, sure," he grinned, "You know I only bring you with me so I can be sure you're not chatting up Janice while I'm away?" "Alan, she's seven months' pregnant." "You still think she's the most beautiful woman you've ever seen, though," Alan's smile was sympathetic, he felt for his friend, knowing how devastated he would be if he ever lost Janice. "Yeah," Drew agreed, lost in his thoughts for a moment. Then another thought came into his head, one he'd harboured for a few weeks now, waiting for the right moment. Now, thinking about tangled relationships, seemed to be the most appropriate time. "Don't take this the wrong way, Al," he said, seriously, watching his pal take another pull from his can of John Smiths, "talking about the subject of extra-marital, reminded me of your sister." "Oh yes?" Alan still had a smile on his face at his friend's clear embarrassment. "Yeah, I've been hearing rumours that Jack is up to his old tricks again." Alan sighed. He'd been putting this off too, Janice had been chewing his ear to do something about it for a month now and, as urgent action was required, he had mulled over it for long enough and had intended bringing it up with Jack today. Only Jack shied off, no doubt so he could meet some woman he was seeing. Sherry deserved better than that slimy toe rag. "Yeah," he admitted, "I heard that too. What we gonna do about it?" Alan wasn't slow or dumb, but he was hardly a man of the world. Married at 23 to the one and only girl in his life, he had a simple naïve existence which he was reluctant to complicate. He drove his forklift all day and hardly spoke to anyone at work, at home he was surrounded by his loving wife and two adorable little angels. His hobbies were his family, making wooden toys in his workshop, caring for his racing pigeons and the boat, not necessarily in that order. Simple, uncomplicated, a life relatively without stress. Drew on the other hand was out in the community all day and many evenings, selling, networking, juggling different complicated insurance plans and gearing them to the requirements of his clients. Alan had taken on what insurances and saving plans he could afford too, and knew that Drew was straight as they come. Any advice he gave on any subject would be insightful, considered and therefore worth considering. "I was hoping Jack'd be here today," Drew said, "So we could have it out with him and, if he didn't change his ways we'd lash him to the anchor and bump him along the bottom for a couple of hours. What'yer think?" Yeah, thought Alan, that was considered, pretty much what I would do. He laughed and drained his can. "Sherry always had a crush on you," he grinned. "When?" Drew's eyebrows raised. "Since she was about 9 and you started coming round to see me again after our little trial separation," Alan admitted, "And she still says nice things about you whenever you come up in the conversation." "When do I come up in the conversation, then?" "All the bloody time," Alan grinned, as he clambered down the engine way, before an empty can came his way, "We hardly talk about anything else!" Then he was gone, leaving Drew alone with only the empty ocean for company. Just then one of the reels clicked, indicating a nibble. Drew picked up the rod, felt the bite and struck the hook firmly with a flick of his wrist, noting that the fish was hooked, off and running. Drew began the process of reeling it in, letting it run and reeling in once more. Sooner than usual the fight was over and he could reel his first catch of the day in. He knew by the feel of it that it was a sizeable specimen and he'd need the gaff to get the monster out of the water, but that was well out of reach in the wheelhouse and Alan was also out of sight and earshot with the engine. The fish was totally played out and was hauled to the surface with barely a flap of its broad tail. What a strange fish, Drew thought, he had never seen anything like it. It was about three feet or so long and looked like a mirror carp but of course he knew that carp were freshwater fish that couldn't possibly survive this far out to sea. He estimated it weighed about 40 pounds. It lay there placidly in the water, as if it was completely played out. It would be a stretch, he knew, but he could reach down and pull it out, although it would be a strain. Drew kept himself pretty fit but this was risky. All the while the fish rested it was naturally garnering its strength for another run, no doubt hoping for success this time. Damn it, thought Drew, I don't want to lose this fish. He stretched down over the gunwale, wrapped his hands around and under the large fish and braced himself to lift the monster onto the boat. He took the strain slowly and careful, drawing the beast forth from the reluctant suction of its native environment. Remarkably, the fish didn't react adversely to being lifted, almost as if it sensed that Drew meant it no harm. At the moment he lifted that fish, Drew could honestly say that the only thoughts running through his head were of wanting to see this beautiful specimen close up, not even an inkling of any other event or consequence occurred to him. There was no malice, triumph in winning a battle, sense of achievement or otherwise, only an overwhelming admiration for the indescribable beauty of one of God's exquisite creations. As the water streamed off the fish and it emerged into the clear as crystal air, the sun shone on the golden scales, each individual mirror reflecting a contorted image of Drew's face, while he himself was filled with wonderment at this glorious sight. His strong arms hauled the fish over the side of the boat, fluids draining off the body streamed to the deck around his feet and down his trousers. Drew kicked a towel off one of the benches and spread it out carefully with a foot as he balanced the heavy fish in his arms, trying his best not to rub off scales or damage it in any way. He got down to his knees and laid the fish on the now very wet towel and carefully removed his arms from underneath, draping the ends of the towel over the fish to prevent it drying out. He sat back on the bench and regarded his capture for a moment while he caught his breath. He was sure he had held in his breath during the whole of the extraction process. The fish just lay there on its side, looking at him with its baleful eye, mouth open, almost as if it was breathing like a mammal rather than gasping like an aquatic out of its natural element. It languidly flapped its tail and one end of the towel slipped away. Drew got down on his knees once more and adjusted the towel, overlapping the ends and thus reducing the risk of it falling off, leaving only the head and tail fins exposed to the desiccating air in the welcome shade of the gunwale. "You are beautiful," he breathed, hardly able to contain his sense of wonderment at the glorious creature of the deep immediately in front of him. He had never seen anything so stunning in all his life. He bent down and kissed the fish on its head without a second thought. He had kissed fish before, never quite as reverentially as this particular one, of course. He laughed inwardly, remembering that his first kiss was not with a girl, no it was five or six years earlier than that! His first smacker, planted on the very first muddy reservoir carp he caught at the age of nine, was tentative at best. Later specimens were pressed to his lips more enthusiastically, accompanied by an appropriate exclamation of joy or triumph as well as appreciation, typically such as "You absolute beauty!", but none of those triumphant milestones had touched him to his very soul as this latest piscine treasure had. Drew glanced back at the engine hatch to check that Alan hadn't seen his brief act of devotional reverence. Then he thought he needed to get some seawater to keep the fish wet, and pour the water across its gills to keep it alive longer. He toyed with the idea of putting it back in the water as soon as Alan had seen it. The thought of gutting, filleting, freezing and later cooking and eating it never even crossed his mind. In the wheelhouse were a stack of buckets, all with ropes attached. He fetched one and tossed it in the water and dragged it back to the boat, filled to overflowing with bright seawater. As he did so he leaned over the engine hatch and yelled to Alan to come up and see what he had caught. The echoey reply was somewhat short-tempered and conveyed the muffled message that did he realise the boat's engineer was right up to his armpits right now in muck and bullets and would be another three or four minutes if it pleased his lordship and master? Drew grinned at the reply and turned around to view the fish where he left it safely in the well of the boat and dropped his bucket in surprise. The water sloshed up his trouser legs and splashed across the deck and ran out through the scuppers. The fish was no longer there! In its place, or rather sitting on the bench above the well where it had previously lain almost inert, was a creature which could only be described as a ... mermaid! Drew stood there, his mouth dropping open as his jaw muscles failed to respond to any positive signals from his brain, which had gone completely into overdrive. There in front of him was that object of legend, part female, part fish! It couldn't possibly be real, could it? But his eyes added the evidence of substance to any notion of incredulity. This was no heat-haze mirage, no smoke and mirrors trickery, nor projected CGI hologram as an elaborate if belated April Fool, but a real embodied, heavenly bodied he noticed, creature of substance, flesh and blood. The towel was wrapped around her, hanging from her shoulders. The being was clearly feminine, although the recognisable biological gender indicators and the somewhat alien transition between the species was conveniently (for her, not him) veiled by the damp cloth, the effect not unlike that of a wet teeshirt was not totally lost on Drew's cognitive senses. Her tail glistened in the sunshine, the fin laterally undulating languidly. He raised his eyes from the fin to the face again to realise that what should be a manifestation of unmitigated horror was actually a vision of unbelievable beauty, lithe in shape and elegantly attractive in appearance. She was carrying an enigmatic smile on her heart-shaped face, which was unblemished and stunning, decorated in delicate freckles. Her hair was outstanding, thick and long lustrous tresses like spun gold flowing over her shoulders and tumbling in shimmering waves down to her waist. Her delicate shoulders were flat and square, her arms slender and pale in colour the upper surface covered in pale freckles reminiscent of the scales which were probably their original form. The Catch "No doubt you are amazed that this miraculous transmogrification has happened?" she said in perfect English, without any trace of accent, a fairly husky, yet feminine voice both pleasant and unsettlingly sexy, "Still happening, as you can see." Drew looked down at her long tail, which was melting away from its original fishy singular form and turning into a pair of extremely shapely legs, her fins also evolving rapidly into a pair of long and slim dainty-toed feet. He raised his head to her bemused smile once again. "How?" Drew's mind was racing, filling with questions, possibilities, worries for his sanity, fears for his safety, excitement that this was happening to him, yet all he could get out was a single stuttering syllable. "Magic, Drew," she almost sang her words to him, sending electric pulses of tingles up and down his spine, "I am borne out of the love you held for my oceanic form." "Because I kissed you?" he asked, still coping with the shock, "All this because of a kiss?" "Ah, but what a kiss," she smiled with a dreamy look which made her stunning face look impossibly even more desirable, "Such a kiss no man has ever bestowed upon an immortal. The poets could occupy themselves for millennia on this one act alone." "How can you speak so well, how is it even possible that you know my name?" Drew now finding his voice. "Your kiss conferred to me all your memories, every experience, each and every hope and aspiration you have ever harboured, all of your deepest most secret desires and knowledge at first hand of exactly what pleases you as well as what you have wanted but never had the opportunity to try." "So what does that all mean?" By now her legs and feet had fully formed, her muscles taut and sculptured. She gracefully stretched out a slender arm towards Drew. "Would you mind helping me to stand, Drew? I may be a little wobbly for a while as I get used to having legs for the first time." "So, do you have the ability to read my thoughts?" asked Drew. "No, of course not, my dear heart," she smiled showing even white teeth, the action swelling plump freckled flesh high on her cheekbones and crinkling the skin around eyes that Drew noticed were a gloriously deep green colour, "When your lips touched me you completed a process already begun when you hooked me. I felt drawn towards you as if this was always meant to be, as if the gods themselves decreed we be bound together for as long as there are stars in the heavens. That premonition inside me was compounded by feelings emanating from you through the slender line that held me, bonding me to your soul. This inspired me to desire that we would be joined together for ever when you lifted me so tenderly and lovingly out of the water." She paused for a moment as Drew absorbed this information. "Now I will be your devoted partner in love, we could be married soon my dearest, make love every night, any time in fact at the drop of a hat would give me such pleasure. There's nothing I would deny you. I will never age, never get fat or wrinkly, be utterly devoted to you and I will care for you always. When our time together on Earth is ended we will become a new constellation to illuminate the sky for all eternity." "Why me of all people? I just sell insurance." "Our destiny must have been written in the stars, who knows or cares why, it only matters that we are now together," she continued, her voice melodic and captivating, "I was already intrigued by that gentle and tender act, which satisfied any doubts I might have had why I allowed myself to be caught in the first place." "You allowed me?" "No human has ever caught one of my kind before. Like you, we have legends of what you call mermaids, some strange and exotic intermediate creature between the two separate kingdoms of mammals and fish, but we always regarded such ideas as flights of fantasy, impossible in reality." "If this is so fantastic what brought you here?" "I was freeing a poor fish which nibbled at the dearly departed body of another fish and suddenly your hook, just dangling there, jumped into my mouth and, before I knew what was happening, you started reeling me in." "What was the fish you shooed away from my hook, then?" asked Drew, intrigued. "Naturally I know her by another ancient name, completely unpronounceable using this human tongue but an exploration of your memory banks, which I have assimilated, reveals it was a fish you call a Sea Bass." "Oh, was it a big one?" "Oh yes, bigger than any bass you remember catching before." "Oh, was it much bigger?" "Much bigger, a male bass in the prime of his life, now free to spawn more of his delightful children," she closed her eyes, "Oh, I can see in your memories horrible images of you eating fish! Now, my darling, that will have to stop from now on." "Stop eating fish? What do you eat?" "Seaweed, we are vegetarians," she replied, "I see from your memories that you used to like eating fish and even catching fish. No more of that my love, you'll have to live on salads and engage in other pastimes from now on in." "What? No more fish'n'chip suppers? No more fishing? Ever?" "That's right my darling, for that small sacrifice you have me to give you sweet sweet loving every night for the rest of eternity..." *** Alan paused at the engine hatch for just one delicious moment, closing his eyes as the warm sunlight hit his hot, flushed face, which he knew would be grubby with dirt and engine grease. He allowed the fresh salty breeze to sweetly refresh his turgid lungs and water down the diesel, grease and body odour aromas he knew permeated to the very core of every pore in his body. That damn engine, he thought, it had ruined his last two trips and he knew his brothers were having the self same interruptions to their fishing pleasure. They were going to have to find the money some- Splash! Alan's train of thought was shattered by the sound of the splash, his first new thought in panic was that Drew had been dragged or fallen overboard. He turned his head round sharply to face the stern of the small vessel and was relieved see his best friend standing there with his back to him, head bowed looking down at the water, a wet towel hanging loosely from one hand, both arms dangling by his side. "Drew!" Alan called from the hatch as he climbed out, "Are you alright?" Drew turned, showing a very wet shirt front and trousers. "Fine," he replied, his face set grim. "Thought you fell overboard," said his friend, "I heard a splash like a body going over the side." "Just jettisoning something that wasn't as palatable as I hoped it might be. Is the engine OK?" "Yes, the engine's ready to go," Alan smiled, "Should get us home. Gonna bite the bullet and get that new engine off of Pat. Ordering it today." "Great idea, if Pat starts immediately that will mean the boat will be on stocks in the yard for five or six weeks, right?" "Yeah, something like that." "How about we go pike fishing in four weeks' time instead of sea fishing, my treat this time?" "Yeah, sounds great," Alan said, "So long as you cheer up before then, though, you look like you've found a pound and lost a tenner, mate." Drew smiled slowly, "I'm fine, really, although I do have a favour to ask of you." "Anything, mate!" Alan laughed, happy to see Drew cheer up somewhat. "Can you persuade Sherry to kick Jack into touch and then put in a good word for me?" "Sure thing, it's a given. Looks like the beers are on you tonight, huh?" "Yeah. Why not? We'll have a few jars in the "Jolly Fisherman" and swap fishing yarns, bags I go first!" THE END.