A vixen goes for a swim and encounters a horny tentacle monster who is more than keen to fill her in every hole!
—
As always, I am open for commissions starting at 30 GBP per 1,000 words – please e-mail arianmabe[at]gmail.com for more information or see my profile!
—
“Ah, this is the life.”
It was late summer, when the water retained the heat of the year, though that would not be the case for much longer. The vixen sculled on her back, the ocean water lifting her, in a spot where no currents would catch her, though she kept one lazy eye on the rip, which could drag her out to sea if she was not careful. The beach was secluded, a few left on the white sands at the tail end of the day, but she was alone out there, away from the surfers and the swimmers, merely treating herself.
And what a treat it was to let the water flow around her, to enjoy the lightness of her buoyancy. Being out in the water made the fox feel as if the world around her had fallen away, as if she was the only one in the world, and the world itself knew that she sorely needed that kind of escape from reality from time to time too. Just to feel like herself again, relaxing, floating, drifting, not a care in the world.
However, the vixen in her rather modest “tankini” was not out there alone, as much as she thought she was. No, something dark and murky lurked under the surface, down deep, though she did not realise just how far she had floated out there. No one would be at all close enough to “save” her, even if it would turn out that the fox very much did not need saving, not when all was shown, coming to pass.
For the tentacle monster had sensed a lady in need, oh, so very much so. A mass of tentacles, writhing and twisting into one another, he slithered and watched, snaking a tentacle up and up and up, tentatively at first and then more boldly. For, with him, it was not about snatching up unwilling prey to satisfy his desires, but finding a partner whose moans would have matched his own. That was, of course, if he had ever made his way entirely above the surface of the water. The tremors of his moans remained below the surface, need secluded away until the very moment where he chose to make it known.
“Hm?”
The vixen lifted her head, her lower body sinking in the water to compensate for the shift in weight. Was that something under her? Nah, probably just a seal or maybe even a porpoise, if she was lucky. She had not seen one of them for a long, long time and the beach may just have been quiet enough for them to come in to relax in the lighter roll of water, out of the rougher open ocean.
Tipping upright, she turned her head back and forth expectantly, yet the tickle on her back moved to her ankle, something thick worming its way up her leg and straight between her thighs.
“Ohhhhh!”
Her surprise was palatable, but she did not shudder from it, instead leaning into the touch on her pussy. At first, she thought that it was another beachgoer down there, someone up for some frisky fun, yet what tugged her panties aside with shocking dexterity was not a furry of any definition that she knew or had seen before.
“Oh… Oh, yes… Please… Fuck…”
The fox panted heavily, no one on the beach able to see what was going on underneath the surface, how her folds soaked with her juices. The ocean water tried to wash it away, but she could not help it, could not do anything about it as the tentacle pushed into her, using her natural lubrication to push deep.
The fox’s moans rose, though no one could even hear her. she did not even turn heads and did not care either, merely paddling to keep herself afloat, as much as she wanted to rock her hips and grind down. There was a touch of fear there – what if she lost her strength and sank? – but not really, only enough to add a nuance of risk to it all. And that risk could be sexy too, exciting even, if only there was enough of it at play and no true danger.
However, the tentacle monster did not want her to be worried at all, sensing her light trepidation, boldly wrapping more and more tentacles around her limbs. In a way, she was trapped, but in another way she was supported, the strong muscles of the creature of the depths holding her up so that there was not a single worry left in her mind of sinking. That was better, much better, though Roscoe had more of an inkling that something greater than she had expected was afoot, the feel of the tentacle pounding, pumping into her sending her head rolling back.
“Oh, fuck, yes…” She moaned, jaws hanging open as her tongue rolled over the edge of her lips, panting heavily. “That feels so fucking good… Ohhhh!”
The monster had something else in mind too, taking his pleasure however he could – and she had another hole within her tankini bottoms to fill. They might have been stretched, the skin-tight shorts, but they would fit another tentacle as it bulged them out, easing, slowly but surely, under her tail and up into her backdoor entrance.
“Oh… Oh, that… That’s…”
But she couldn’t get the words out as pleasure built, the feeling of being strained and stretched so taut between two tentacles simply exquisite. It was better than she could ever have imagined, the tentacles squashing with a fleshy squish so that she was filled to the perfect extent: not stretched too much and certainly not too little. It even helped her take more of them, the thicker girth stretching and bulging out her lower abdomen as the lusty vixen tipped her head from shoulder to shoulder.
With salt on her lips and the water lightly and gently lapping around her neck, she climaxed, moaning out loud, rocking her hips back and forth, need rising, panting, moaning. Her pussy clenched around the tentacle there, but her tail hole squeezed too, her body beyond her control. At some point, the tentacles had caught her wrists too, holding her forearms as they wound around, much as a lover would steady her.
Yet Roscoe was not at all interested in being steadied as she bucked and thrust, rocking back and forth in pleasure, coughing even through it all as salty water slopped into her mouth. She couldn’t stop herself, however, lust getting the better of her, the tentacles working in tandem, all in perfect unison as they pounded her, slamming in, working her open, bit by bit. Her body may have been a pleasurable toy to them, yet her head spun like never before with ardent lust, the arch in her back drawn as if by an otherworldly, higher power.
Orgasm after orgasm crashed through her like a tidal wave, drowning her – though the waves of pleasure always returned her to the surface sooner or later. That much she could count on, as much as her breasts rolled and heaved with every snatch and grab of breath. The tentacle monster pounded her ruthlessly and yet her body accepted each and every stroke of his tentacles driving up deeply inside her. Roscoe could only imagine the lewd pull and squelch of her folds around him, how they would suck and yearn for more, feeling as if she was already squeezing down with such lust that she could barely hold out through it as it was.
The monster trembled, feeding off her, her lust, so very much. Yes, yes… That was what he needed, so very much, drinking it all down, absorbing her juices, though his passion mounted. He had to fill her, impregnate her, to seed her – for that was his mission whenever he found such a willing partner as her. The vixen twisted and contorted so beautifully on his tentacles that he could not help his passion, wriggling excitedly as he took her.
Stroke after stroke powered into her tight passages, both holes squeezing around him, but he kept right on thrusting and thrusting, pushing up into her with devious, single-minded purpose. There was only one thing in the small, functional mind of the tentacle monster, after all, and that was to fuck, to breed – and he sorely hoped, even then, that the vixen would return to him after she had laid her and his eggs on the beach at the end of it all.
“Oh… Fuck… Ohhhh…”
Roscoe’s moans took on a deeper quality as he pounded her deeply and rhythmically, though her body still shook with the force of every one. He was building to a crescendo of lust, she was sure of it, and she was merely there and along for the ride, enjoying every second of it, her head back, water lapping around, a seagull calling above. Yet there was no desire at all in the fox to be rescued as she howled out yet another orgasm and the tentacle monster too trembled in orgasmic lust.
Never had the fox experienced a climax like that inside her, how the tentacles tangibly pulsed and pushed with every bulging spurt of cum. The ropes of seed were thicker and more powerful than anything that she had ever had before, so fortunate to have found him, her body taking every drop. The tight seal that the tentacles made in her pussy and tail hole made it so that not a single drop of delicious tentacle monster cream escaped, leaving it all inside her, her body taking it all so very eagerly.
The force of his orgasm had her stomach bulging out, swollen lightly with cum, a good load for a vixen like her to take. Yet every drop of tentacle monster seed that had been poured into her pussy went straight to work in her womb, working its way up more and more deeply inside her, even though her body was not in the optimal position for what was needed to ease into her womb. That would come, however, for he had delivered more than enough into her hot sex to ensure her impregnation.
“Oh… Oh, don’t go yet?”
What was that? The tentacle monster sensed her need, the fox breaking from his tentacles that wrapped around her legs, dipping in the water as she curled them around the tentacle, where it was thicker, that was responsible for pounding her pussy full. It was there that she was best positioned to hump and moan, grunting thickly as she speared herself on his still ejaculating tentacle, her belly hot and tight with his load.
Well, if she wanted more, that was exactly what she would get from him!
Thus, it was that the fox ached and burned for more, her lust having risen to such a point that a single orgasm and round with the tentacle beast simply could not satisfy her. No, she needed more, driven made with lust, her tongue lolling out helplessly. Though Roscoe could rest more than assured that she was perfectly safe there, very much so, whimpering, moaning, licking the salt from her lips, even as more eyes and fingers pointed at her from the beach.
Those there could not fail to notice what was going on, that something was going on, though Roscoe was not going to stop even if she had something of an audience out there. The late afternoon sunshine sparkled down on the fractured ocean, her little slice of the depths, and the vixen squealed rambunctiously through yet another orgasm as her pussy clenched and flexed around him. Her entire body seemed set on milking the tentacle monster of every drop of cum that he had to give, though that would be a tall order indeed, even for a vixen like her.
Moaning out loud while his tentacles worked her over, another slithering up to push between her breasts, under her tankini top, the vixen relaxed in lustful sensation.
Her trip to the beach had worked out as even greater stress relief than she had expected!
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/qfcjt5/summer_swim_with_a_tentacle_monster_ftentacles