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Then we jumped into the sea together.
This was my third dive, and each time, it seemed to get easier for me.
We floated down effortlessly and since we really didn’t need to move much horizontally, the fins weren’t needed. I was really getting excited thinking that this activity would be a bucket list item for both of us, and we would certainly have a lot more room to move around than we had in the plane lavatory. That was not very glamorous, but this sea-world environment felt like it could be a lot of fun.
Just thirty feet down, and our feet alit on the sandy bottom. This time we ignored the little shipwreck. The first thing we did was embrace and feel each other up. It reminded me of those ‘squishy-squashy’ feelings we had in the milk shower back home.
Sammantha popped the air supply hose out of her mouth and indicated for me to do the same. I didn’t know we would be French kissing under water, but when our tongues met, I knew I had to blow into her mouth but leave a gap for the air bubbles to escape. She did the same. I thought she could make a lot of money giving video lessons because the techniques are completely different under water.
She reached quickly between my legs and goosed me. That was a little unexpected thrill. Then she ran her fingernails around my scrotum and my shaft.
‘Boing.’ Well that didn’t take long. It was true. At fourteen, I was a walking boner. I had to reach out and feel her breasts. Wow, most women’s boobs are fatty to the touch and flop all over the place, especially in water. But hers held their athletic form. Like Wonder Woman, Sammantha was an Amazon warrior.
Sea water creates an interesting visual environment. Many objects don’t really come into focus until they get closer … like that large object getting closer to us now. It looked like we were going to have company, and this was not good. It was approaching Sammantha’s back. I knew not to thrash around, but I grabbed both of her shoulders and gently turned her around.
I didn’t see any lemons on this shark and I admit that I was genuinely scared. I cowered behind Sammantha’s back. The skipper said they were curious like dogs. Well this was no fucking dog. It had to be at least ten feet long, and I couldn’t believe that we had purposely cast ourselves directly onto what looked like the movie set of ‘JAWS’. How do I know that this thing isn’t a Great White?
The animal was now just six feet away and closing. Sammantha held up the palm of her right hand in the classic ‘stop’ sign. But I highly doubted that this particular shark had taken the time to study scuba hand signals.
Its pointy dental work was now just three feet from the ‘stop’ sign. I now regarded sex diving as a bad idea (you think?), especially if we were to become the first two humans served up as a meal to a Lemon shark.
The nose of the shark and the hand of the woman now touched. I wanted to hold my breath, but common sense said keep blowing bubbles. Sammantha started rubbing the shark’s nose. Rather than becoming angry and biting off her hand, the shark appeared to become more relaxed. In fact, he seemed to be drifting off into a catatonic state … a stupor. I thought this was amazing.
After about a minute, she stopped rubbing his nose and the animal floated motionless, inches away with its huge maw hung open. Sammantha did tell me at the beginning of this trip that she was a ‘shark whisperer’, and I guess this is what she meant.
(I was to learn later that this nose-rubbing action took our friend into what is called ‘tonic immobility’ which puts it in a trance-like state for up to fifteen minutes. So this shark was under hypnosis and we were supposed to have sex in front of his jaws, with a clock ticking.)
I knew that sharks had multiple sets of teeth. In fact, they lose up to a hundred teeth a day. Even so, I think it was a little foolish for Sammantha to reach into the front of his mouth and pull out one of the wiggly ones. She handed it to me as a souvenir. I slid it into my equipment … but I could have done without it.
I needed all the testosterone I could muster to re-inflate my member, as sharks do nothing for my erogenous zone. Thankfully, Sammantha was determined to have us succeed in our adventure. She dropped low, removed her air tube, and engulfed my organ in her mouth.
I was floating there, not realizing I was using the shark’s body as a hand rest. I yanked it away. Sammantha was doing something that anatomically, didn’t make sense. A blow job is an act of sucking. But sucking now would earn her a mouth full of sea water. Somehow, she was giving me a reverse blow job … she really was blowing, and struggling to get the job done.
It was up to me. I had to blank the shark from my mind and drift pleasantly into a memory that got me really hard. That was easy … the intensity of forbidden fruit … Penelope Point DuJour grinding her pubis against the head of my penis. This time, I was the one who drifted off into a stupor.
I was startled from my daydream by Sammantha’s grip on both my scuba equipment and my sexual equipment. The dragon had arisen. She wrapped her legs around me and forced us to unite. I wasn’t doing anything. She rapidly pumped us together with purpose … not very romantic. I’m through with bucket list challenges.
I was just thankful that the pressure inside me finally built up to a point where I could pull the air regulator out of my mouth and yell out five ‘NO’s with lots of bubbles. It sounded more like 'Blooo, Blooo, Blooo, Blooo, Blooo'. Then I popped the air back in and we were on our way up … with a nervous three-minute stop at fifteen feet to decompress. I looked down at the shark and prayed he wouldn’t wake.
It was nice to break the surface of the water. Skipper Mantooth helped us out and Sammantha didn’t care that he had a good look, and a good amount of touchy-feely with her nude body.
The skipper asked me, “We’re you a man, lad?”
Completely exhausted, I nodded with a reply of, “Yeah … and the shark didn’t eat us.”
“Good for you, lad. That’s a fine outcome … and don’t forget Mother’s Day.”
As we dressed, I looked at Sammantha with hope. “Mom, I’m so glad we got this over with. I am so tired of bucket list challenges and I just want to go home.
She smiled at me. “You did great down there, sweety. You remained so calm in our little three-some. And fortunately for you, there’s only one more bucket-lister remaining on our agenda.”
“Mom, you’ve got to be kidding. If it’s not sex on the moon, then I can’t imagine what it could be.”
“You’re actually pretty close, sweety. This was a Sea-gasm. This next one is called an Air-gasm.”
“We’re going skydiving.”
“What?! But Mom, wasn’t having sex on an airplane good enough? Now we have to do it getting thrown out of an airplane? I think I lost all my courage down there with the shark.”
“You’re going to love it, sweety.”
Once back at the dock, we said our thank-yous and goodbyes to Skipper Melvin Mantooth. He wanted me to promise to fuck my mom on Mother’s Day, but I couldn’t guarantee it. And I think his price of $900 was set on purpose so that guests would tip him, rounding the total up to an even thousand bucks.
Sammantha drove our rental car back to the Pink Dolphin hotel, but as we approached the parking lot, it looked liked there was a mass of confusion going on. Hundreds of people were running around yelling. There were even news crew vans pulling in. And then we could hear dozens of sirens from emergency vehicles racing toward the scene. Jeez, what the hell was going on?
Sammantha parked and then told me, “I don’t know what’s going on, but let’s get to the front desk fast.”
She ran with me to the lobby and then up to the front desk, speaking quickly. “I’m Sammantha Adams in room 517. What’s happening?”
The clerk didn’t respond. He raised his hand and made a ‘come here’ signal with his index finger. Four police officers descended on us. I was more scared now that I was, facing the shark. Sammantha and I both froze.
The male clerk now spoke. “Ms. Adams, I must profusely apologize for an incident of possible contamination that occurred this morning after one of our housekeepers discovered it in your room after you left.”
The first policeman stepped forward. “Ma’am, I’m Officer Obo Ononogbo, the health inspector. I have to ask you if you’ve felt any sickness today. Have you had any symptoms of any kind since you left the hotel this morning?”
“No, none at all,” she answered.
“And what about your son?”
I answered for myself. “No, sir. I’ve been fine all day.”
The officer nodded. “Okay, I’m asking you both this question … Did either of you see some type of organism on the ceiling of your room this morning before you left?”
(Oh, shit … In the past when I jacked off, I would just clean it up with a tissue. I never thought it would create an international incident.)
Sammantha shrugged. “I don’t recall seeing anything unusual. Did you, Derrek?”
I shook my head. “No, Mom.”
She continued, “Officer Ononogbo, what type of organism are you talking about?”
“We’re not sure yet, Ma’am. Scientists from the university are on their way over now. It’s some type of large slime, but definitely organic. It’s either alive, or was created by some living creature. We’re just not sure. But with our recent experience with the Covid virus, we’re not taking any chances. The entire hotel is being evacuated.”
The desk clerk then advised us, “Ms. Adams, your luggage and all your belongings are locked up in the room behind me. I’ll get them now. And by the way, because of this inconvenience, we’re comping you for your entire stay here at the Pink Dolphin … no charges.”
“Why, thank you,” Sammantha said, looking at me with a smirk.
I had a follow-up question for the health inspector. “Sir, if it was found on the ceiling, could it be some type of bat guano?”
“We don’t know, son. That’s always a possibility, but we’re not going to jump to any conclusions. I have my card for your mom. If either of you feel any type of symptoms coming on, let me know immediately, please.”
“Of course, sir,” she replied.
As we carried our belongings back to the rental car, the parking lot was filling up with at least a thousand onlookers chatting wildly about the commotion. A news crew was about to start broadcasting near our car.
The female reporter held up her mic. “Hello, This is Tanya Tiger reporting live from the Pink Dolphin hotel in Charlotte Amalie. Bedlam and panic have broken out in this section of the city as thousands run either to or from ground zero of what could become the next worldwide viral pandemic. What we know so far is that a hideous organism was discovered by housekeepers earlier this morning on the ceiling of room 517.”
“Some people are calling it a ‘slime’, some are calling it an ‘ooze’, and some are even just referring to it as a ‘big blob’. In any event, an island-wide search is now underway for a mother and her young son who were occupying the room last night. At present, there is no word of their condition and some authorities fear that the two may already be dead from the virus.”
“As you can see behind me, workers in hazmat suits are beginning to haul their equipment up to the fifth floor in an attempt to identify and neutralize this horrible threat to public safety. Island Authorities have advised all persons to shelter in place and not venture outdoors except for emergencies.”
“As we speak, the CDC, Center for Disease Control in Atlanta, is sending representatives to St. Thomas
Another voice came on. “Tanya, this is Chaz Louder from the news desk here at Channel 7. If authorities have advised all persons to shelter in place, why are there thousands of people crowded in the parking lot behind you?”
“Chaz, it seems that most people are treating this event as a joke, or a festival. The reason for this is obviously because of the name they’re giving it. ‘Ooze and Slime’ sound like funny words. There was even a monster movie once staring Steve McQueen called ‘The Blob’. And it didn’t take long for entrepreneurs to take advantage of the situation. I can show you here … I’m holding up a twenty dollar Tee shirt with the words ‘I survived the St. Thomas BLOB’ … and they’re selling like hotcakes. This is Tanya Tiger reporting live from the Pink Dolphin hotel … Back to you, Chaz.”
I tapped Sammantha’s shoulder. “Mom, can we get one of those tee shirts, please?”
“No, sweety. Let’s buy two.”