Chapter 1
They called her father the Old Man of the Sea. As one of fifty daughters of Nereus and Doris, Nerea knew all about the desires of gods and men. Rarely did those desires remain confined within the restrictions mortals would otherwise be stuck with if not for the occasional interlude of divine lust.
The love of beasts was no less common than the love of flesh, and both sides were equally passionate for the other. Creatures were made all the more beautiful and tempting for their beastly features and often sought pleasure with those who were fully flesh. It was a desire for contrasts on many levels. The gods found plenty of pleasure in beastly forms.
Often, Poseidon enjoyed watching his lovers getting pleasured by his hippocampi. One such incident was what set Nerea on the path of sensual discovery. She happened upon the encounter one night when she entered the golden stables where the half-horse, half-seadragons rested. Coy laughter and muttered words made up the unmistakable sounds of an erotic tryst. They reached her ears from the rear of the stables where Poseidon’s saddles and chariots were stored.
Nerea thought perhaps one of her sisters had found a wandering merman to entertain in hiding. Instead, she discovered it was the god of the sea, himself, and one of his many siren lovers. Nerea hid behind a column and watched with curiosity. Poseidon fondled his lover’s breast, whispering salacious words into her ear while she slid her hand along one of his beloved seahorse’s neck and shoulder. The beast was already nuzzling her and licking at her skin, encouraging her as much as his master.
Poseidon tugged the remainder of the siren’s gown free from her shoulder and offered her nipples up to the seahorse’s tongue. Nerea had never heard a female sigh so sweetly. Then, he unfastened the siren’s belt and discarded her gown before guiding her to a stand holding one of his cup-shaped saddles. He lay her over it upon her stomach and positioned her legs wide apart before propping her feet onto shelves built into the stand. That exposed her sex to his seahorse’s desires, who didn’t hesitate to move in and attempt to take over. Poseidon helped guide the hippocamp’s cock into the siren’s wanton entrance.
She gave a startled cry at the invasion, the seahorse’s phallus both long and wide. The beast found its rhythm with grunting determination, hooking its front legs over the stand and using the thick coils of its serpentine tail to leverage its thrusts.
The siren’s cries turned swiftly to moans, and she sang with delight, the hippocamp snorting its pleasure while pumping into her. Poseidon merely watched for a moment, stroking his godly cock before he brought himself before his lover’s face. There, he coaxed her mouth open wide so that he could claim the depths of her throat, and all were sure to be sated in no time.
Nerea was so aroused by what she witnessed that there was no way she could keep from having her pleasurable encounters much longer. Nothing had been stopping her, in truth, merely the myriad duties she was obligated to fulfill for her father and the Sea God. A Nereid was hardly idle, after all.
On her way out of the stables, she saw someone in the shadows across the other side. It was Poseidon’s son, Triton. He had a direct line of sight to the passionate display and was stroking his cock in a steady, aggressive rhythm. Nerea wished she could see it, but he was in the darkest corner. The lack of visual didn’t stop more of her juices from leaking out onto her thighs. Her gaze stayed transfixed on the movements of his arm.
Not wanting to alarm him of her presence, she stepped back into the deeper shadows and stared, far more aroused by watching him than anything his father was doing. Nerea wanted to touch herself between her legs but knew she’d be incapable of containing her sounds.
Triton was her biggest fantasy, half-man, half-sea monster. Many thought him no more than the ultimate merman because he had the power to change his shape at will, along with the color of his skin and hair. Like the shifting hues of the sea that were sometimes blue, other times green. In this way, he was excessively vain. But his vanity hid an insecurity not many knew about.
His true form was half-god, half-Kraken. He had close to fifteen tentacles of such a dark red color they were almost brown. They glistened with small, smooth scales on the surface but were as ribbed as a dragon’s belly on the underside.
He believed them hideous and utterly weak. Nerea thought they were remarkably alluring. She wished she could caress her fingers across their texture and feel them coil around her skin. But Triton kept his real appearance hidden and wasn’t aware of her stolen glimpses. If he found out, he’d likely avoid her at every crossing.
Nerea had seen him shun some of her sisters for that very reason, and her heart ached at the thought of him giving her the same treatment. What she needed to do was gain the kind of sexual experience to build her confidence so she could attract his attention and show him that his natural form was far from weak or hideous.
