He licked his lips when he saw the corset you were wearing, exposing your tits in the most marvelous way, or so everyone said as they stared. You kind of loved it, to have everyone’s attention, to be appreciated and looked at with such lust your lower parts tingled in anticipation of whatever would happen later.

Are you here for more of us, orc whore? The voice of your patron asked, making you jump, startled from surprise. They normally didn’t talk when there were other customers in the tavern, always preferring to stay hidden from prying eyes. The orc in front of you blushed, signaling that he heard them, too.

“Ye- yes,” he stuttered, all his bravado disappearing as he turned into a blushing mess again.

“I’m glad,” you told him leaning over the counter to kiss his cheek, making him blush even deeper. He was so cute. “It’s still a few hours until closing, do you want something?”

“You,” he simply said, leaning in your personal space to steal a kiss that left you breathless and made the lights in the tavern flicker. A few monsters cheered and others hollered for you two to get a room.

“If I get a room y’all will all have to go home!” You told them, which earned you a few booing sounds and more than one laugh. “Wait for me?” You asked him with a smile so big your cheeks hurt.

“Gladly.”

You could feel his eyes on you all night long, with each movement, his gaze traveled down your body and created a low simmer of heat that grew and grew. By the time the last customer left, your panties were dripping wet and your body was almost emitting electricity from the power of your desire and horniness.

You weren’t sure who moved first, but within seconds your mouths were joined and he was kissing the breath away from your lips. It was as if the two of you were trying to devour each other, your feet dangling from the air as he held you up.

Starting without me? The voice in both your heads rang, making you break the kiss. Both of you were breathless as your patron kept talking. Don’t stop, I like watching my toys enjoy themselves before I ruin them.

Their words sent shivers down your body, which in turn gave tiny electric shocks to the orc, who moaned at the contact.

Your patron didn’t interfere for a while after that, leaving you and the orc to make out like crazy on top of a table. Your clothes practically flew off of your body with how quickly he ripped them off. His own clothes were accidentally burned when you got too excited by his needy, desperate groping. It was carefree and hot as fuck.

When you felt the tentacles touch your ankle before going up his back, you looked at them to see them saluting you over his shoulder in the most ridiculous gesture ever. Despite the silliness of the gesture, it was one that instead of making you laugh, made your pussy clench in anticipation.

Mmmmm. I want to make you glow again, warlock. Glow all pretty like a pathetic little slut for me. I want you so wet I could slip my biggest tentacle into your welcoming heat. You moaned at your patron’s filthy words. You like that, don’t you? You love when you’re nothing but my plaything.

The orc snorted at that, and you could feel the shift of energy in the air as your patron’s attention shifted to him. You’re no better, you orcish whore. I clearly fucked you so well that you came for more all on your own. Such a pretty little virgin hole, fucked open by my tentacles until you were crying… Another pathetic whore for me. Two toys for the night. Delicious.

It was all so quick, your holes being stretched, the orc opening his mouth in a silent scream as his own hole was teased and soon pounded. The two of you were both nothing more than toys under your patron’s tentacles as they did whatever they wanted with both of you. Neither of you could do anything but enjoy it.

There were tentacles everywhere, all your holes filled, all your erogenous zones played with. You weren’t only glowing, but almost incandescent with the power of the multiple orgasms drawn out of you from the tentacles.

Your orc companion wasn’t any better. His mouth was stretched around a tentacle, the first blow-job he’s given in his life by the looks of it. His ass was stretched and pounded continuously, and from the look of bliss in his eyes, his prostate was squeezed and sucked on so much he was cumming dry.

The sight only added to your desire. He looked so fucking hot being a puppet for your patron, it made you wonder if you looked half as hot as him. But your brain didn’t have enough space to think about it, not when you were being pounded in all holes at once, sent into another orgasm that was practically ripped from you with how hard it hit you.

By the end of the night both of you were crying, holes stretched and your bodies sore, but the contented smiles on your faces were so big they hurt.

“We should get dressed before people start coming in,” you whispered to nobody in particular.

There was a laugh in your head and the orc arched an eyebrow in confusion as your patron started talking. Oh, warlock… You’re so wrong. You are going to lay down on that table and open your pretty legs so our orc whore can feast on your pussy as I watch. Neither of you are leaving quite yet. The tavern will remain closed until I’ve had my fill.

The apartment is a furnace, and that’s putting it mildly.

That’s your first thought when you wake from yet another failed attempt at a nap. You don’t feel rested, just conscious again, sheets kicked to the foot of the bed and sweat pooling in the hollow of your throat.

The A/C died sometime around noon, right when the temperature outside decided to cosplay as the surface of the sun. Now, you’re lying here in nothing but your underwear, contemplating the possibility of filling your bathtub with ice.

The fan oscillates back and forth, back and forth, doing little more than pushing hot air around.

You try closing your eyes again, only to open them again a few seconds later. You close them again to no avail.

(close, open, close, open, close, open, close—)

“This is hell,” you groan to the empty room. “I’m being punished for something, and I’ve been sent straight to hell.”

“That’s what you get for hogging my side of the freezer.”

A laugh echoes from the doorway, and you lazily turn your head to find your girlfriend leaning against the frame looking rather pleased with herself.

She’s dressed in blue, the edges of her sundress blurred as they mix and swirl with her gelatinous skin. It catches the light from the window, shifting in that way that’s never quite solid.

“That was an accident.”

“Mhmm.” She drifts into the room with a gliding motion, walking but not.

“I said I was sorry.”

“You said, and I quote, ‘oops.’”

“It was a heartfelt oops?”

She laughs, the sound of a river bubbling over stones, and stands at the edge of the bed looking down at you. The color of her eyes alters with the light, bouncing between blue and green and all the colors in between. “You look miserable.”

“It’s a million degrees outside and the A/C is dead. I’m being cooked from the inside out—” you gesture pathetically at yourself, “—This is what dying looks like.”

“Dramatic.”

“Accurate.”

She tilts her head, mouth pulling to the side in a considering pout. The movement ripples through her—mouth to neck to shoulders to torso.

“You’re trying to nap.”

“More like failing.”

“Mm.” The mattress dips as she sits on the edge of the bed. “I could help with that.”

“You know how to fix the A/C?”

“Not quite,” she grins. There’s something in the way she says it that makes your heart stutter.

“And how do you plan on helping exactly?”

“Well…” She stands, and the sundress—or the part of her that’s pretending to be a sundress—blurs a bit more. “My body is a lower temperature than yours.”

“Uh huh.”

She moves around to the side of the bed, fingertips gliding along centimeters away from your skin.

“Something about being a certain percentage of water. It’s all very scientific. Unless…” She pauses, just out of reach.

“Unless?”

“You’d rather keep suffering nobly in your boxers.”

You look at her, at the smile playing at the edges of her mouth. She’s beautiful in the light—and out of it and every other time you gaze at her—and it’s an easy decision to make.

“I’m…extremely interested in your help.”

“I thought you might be.” She leans over you, walking her fingers across your stomach to rest on the other side of you. “Just relax.”

“This feels like a trap,” you murmur. She climbs onto the bed with fluid grace, knees sinking into the mattress on either side of your hips.

“I’m being helpful.”

“You’re being…something.”

“Supportive, then?”

And then she’s lowering herself onto you and oh—

The relief is immediate, a perfect plunge into ice water after hours of sweltering heat. Her cool weight settles over your chest and stomach, forcing a part gasp part moan from your lips because it feels that good.

“Better?” she giggles.

“So much better.” Your hands come up to rest on her waist, you can’t help it, and your fingers sink in slightly against the thick honey-like material of her. “Oh my god, you’re amazing.”

“I know.” She shifts, spreading herself more evenly across your torso. You feel her through the thin fabric of your boxers, molding to the shape of you with devilish precision. “Comfortable?”

“Very.”

“Good.” She leans forward, propping herself up on her arms, droplets of her forming and re-forming where her elbows meet the sheets.

“What’re you—”

“Shhh. We’re sleeping.” There’s mischief in her eyes, wicked intentions in the way she settles more firmly against you.

“Babe.”

“Hm?”

“This doesn’t feel entirely innocent.”

She moves again, subtly, and you feel every inch of where she’s touching you. “Would you prefer I stop?”

“Don’t you dare.”

“That’s what I thought,” she huffs, pleased.

You try to dissolve into her comfort, letting your thoughts slow and soften. It’s not easy with the gentle motion of her body on you and around you.

“Your heart’s beating so fast,” she observes, the smirk in her voice obvious.

“As if you don’t know why.”

“Are you suggesting I have ulterior motives?” There's a deliberate roll of her hips that makes your hands tighten on her waist.

“The thought might have occurred.”

She leans down, her face close enough now that you can see the light shining through her, not quite opaque, but never quite solid. “Maybe I’ve been watching you suffer and thinking about how good it would feel to cool you down. Maybe I like the way you touch me when you’re grateful.”

Your breath stutters, the edges of her body giving so your fingertips slip slightly into her hips.

“You’re torturing me, aren’t you?”

“Helping you,” She rolls her hips again, and the slide of her makes your head fall back onto the pillow. “In a totally practical way.”

She offers a half-pout, half-smirk that brings a laugh out of you. “There’s nothing practical about this.”

“No?” she grins. “Then maybe I should get up and let you suffer alone in your hot apartment—”

“Don’t.” Your hands spread across her back, feeling her ebb and flow under your palms. “Don’t stop. Please.”

She sinks heavily, pinning you to the bed as she spreads herself wider, extending up to your shoulders and down over your thighs.

You almost have a thought, but it slips away because she moves against, expanding and contracting in waves that make your brain short circuit and lose all ability to form complete thoughts.

“You’re incredible,” is all you can manage.

“I know. I’m good at this.”

“At helping me ‘nap’?”

“At making you focus on more important things.” She punctuates this with a circling of her lower half that makes your hips jerk involuntarily. “See?"

Her hand comes up to brush across your forehead, the chill of it soothing on your skin. You close your eyes as she finally relaxes, spread over you like a living blanket.

“You should sleep. I’ll stay like this until the heat breaks,” she murmurs, breath fanning across your neck.

“What if I don’t want to sleep?”

You feel her grin, lips grazing your skin as she speaks, “Then I’ll keep you comfortable in other ways.”

You slide your hands down her back, not too far, but just enough to hear the hitch in her breath. “What kind of other ways?”

“The kind where I take advantage of the fact you can’t move without touching more of me.”

“I knew you had ulterior motives.”

She nips at your earlobe, insisting, “I’m still helping. Bet you're not thinking about the heat anymore, are you?”

“No, I’m thinking about—” She does something particularly inspired with the parts of her that are wrapped around your thighs, “—That. I’m thinking about that.”

She laughs, smug and triumphant.

“Maybe we skip the napping part and go directly to the part where I demonstrate all the other benefits of having a girlfriend who can mold herself to your body. Would you like that?”

She’s evil, luring you in with the sweet, syrupy voice. Pure, perfect evil.

“Yes.”

She kisses you, her lips icy and smooth. When you deepen the kiss, she goes with the flow and takes you in with practiced fluidity.

The heat is still oppressive outside the cocoon of her body, but you’ve stopped caring, stopping thinking about anything except her.

The A/C can stay broken forever for all you care; you have everything you need right here.

You snorted unflattering in the cold air to yourself, “This is ridiculous.” 

But the ridiculousness of it all would help. Someone you once loved, simple: your crush of Jeremy Miller in the 7th grade. Popular, smart, blond hair and blue-eyed, he was the golden child, not a jock like all the other boys your age, Jeremy was well known for his love for acting. You had only shared a conversation with him maybe once, and that had been by accident, but you and your naïve mind looked way into his simple word of kindness for someone like you. But that crush died and crumbled like ash to the ground when you found out that your secret crush on him had been spread thanks to your cheerleader Eloise got hold of your diary, choosing to tell everyone and him. He turned out to be just as much as a dickhead as she had been, and for the rest of the year, you chose to hide along the school walls, the standing joke everyone looked for.

That first tear had come easier than you had expected: the anger helped especially. It ran down your cheek and slipped into the water with little force to break the surface, disappearing. So long, fucker. You anger dissipated before moving on.

Number two: Someone you lost.

This was more sentimental to you, and upon seeing the way how your handwriting became illegible, shaky to the end of the line, it told you it would be rather difficult. You clasped the side of the boat with an unsettling exhale, the one person that only came to mind was your grandmother you had lost a few years ago. Old age had taken her but it had taken her away so beautifully, bringing her to join the nature you were surrounded by now. You could feel her no matter where you went, a twirl of the breeze in your hair, a canary’s singing when your window was open, you knew she was always there.

The second tear was followed with a cry that resounded in your chest, too close to your heart, and took some time to finally calm. The water rippled with its decent to guide your tear gently, engulfing it smoothly. You wiped the back of your red wet face with the back of your sleeve, telling yourself to resume before you got too caught in the moment.

Number three and four were similar, both requiring you to of lost something but for you to gain it once again. In the end, it didn’t matter whether that thing was personal to you, you had to say goodbye to it. You had lost the happiness you once felt as a child, but to the benefit of it all, you resided to your privacy by drawing. It wasn’t much, but it helped keep bad thoughts away on some days, allowing you to do what you loved best.

Number five was someone you missed the most in your life, and although the memories stung like the previous tears, the face that stuck was your best friend at the time, Jade. And although the good times could be seen, it didn’t hide the stuck up and two-sided personality she wielded, using you for her own gain. In the end, the friendship ended with much more ease than sorrow. But seven years’ worth of torment could get anyone relieved for it to be over, and so those tears were in her farewell.

Number six and seven had arrived with little to no faith you held in how it would end. Proving that maybe after all that crying, it would be pointless. You sighed heavily, reading over the last two, drawling the right thoughts.

Number six: Yourself

Though there were many things you loathed of yourself, you didn’t want others to feel sympathetic to your story, nor other the fact that you were indeed lonely. Your story was long and convoluted, but you wished someone was good and decent enough to read it from the beginning. This farewell for your own loneliness was the one you wished to see gone the quickest.

All these tears: one for anger, two for loss, two for relief, one in farewell whilst the last was for a new beginning. It could be anything you wanted, wished or craved for – but better beginnings sounded all too promising.

Number seven: A final wish

“I wish… I just wish for someone patient to listen, not to question, but let me feel something.” You said aloud, finally ripping at the paper as you scattered it to the wind, allowing that final droplet to run down your cheek.

You weren’t expecting instant miracles and in those seconds of having said your wants and crying away the past, you listened to the rush of water surging closer to your boat, and at that moment when you opened them, you were surprised with a little visitor.

The fur of the seal was plump and grey, silvery in contrast to the murky waters as it twirled and moved closer to your boat, its wide black eyes staring up into yours as it made eye contact with you as it continued to travel, passing by you and coming up behind the boat, where you believed it would disappear on with its journey.

You snorted to yourself, “I’m losing it. I can’t believe I was talking to a seal.”

“Correct, but I suppose that’s what people like to believe.” A sudden voice was so clear as rain, smooth and whimsical startled you so that you almost rocked off the side of your boat, coming from behind you. “These waters have never been so calm, heh, though… it’s not every day someone comes to shed their seven tears.”

This couldn’t be true… you were in the middle of a lake, yet you were certain you could hear a clear voice almost next to you. “Who’s there?” Your confusion and worry were evident in your tone, where the voice - clearly male - replied, “You could call me what you want, but I would like to call myself your listener.”

“That’s bullshit—you must’ve followed me… there’s no way you could’ve magically appeared… unless,” then it hit you. The grey seal, following along the side of your boat when you cried your final tear, moving behind the boat. No-

You turned to peer over the edge of your boat with some hesitancy, believing all you would see would be a small adorable seal, when in fact you were totally wrong. The first thing that came into your sight was the blinding porcelain white skin that seemed almost blinding in the deep waters. They were drenched, with only their mop of wet curly brown hair on show, and wide hazel eyes that seemed to almost sparkle in the water’s surface. This man was too beautiful to be anything but your saviour. No, maybe a swimmer coming through or just a weird dude who was creeping on a 17-year-old-

“You seem lost, dear,” the handsome male stretched up until more of his bare torso was out from the water. “Penny for your thoughts?”

This person could’ve been a madman, preying on young people like you, and you were out in the middle of nowhere, with nothing to defend yourself with. That’s what you should’ve been thinking, but your mind only came to think of one thing at that moment.

“You’re a seal?”

“A selkie, your people usually call me, though it’s not every day I’m called that.” The male laughed, supporting himself so casually by propping his lithe arms against your boat. “Any other questions?”

You shook your head in disbelief, trying to gauge at what you were really believing. Was your head that mad that you were imagining a completely different creature to you? “Were you listening to me? Listening to me cry?”

“As creepy as it seems, to shed seven tears grants you the final everlasting wish you so dream for,” the selkie replied. “You wished for someone – a friend – perhaps, and well… here I am.”

“So, you listen to everyone crying and you grant wishes? Do you grant the same wishes to everyone?”

“Not quite,” he laughed. “Everyone has different wishes, and so did you, but I just so happen to give the perfect gift of all.”

You titled your head, eyebrows raised incredulously, “Yourself?”

“My power does not lie between what I allow and grant, but… I thought I would allow myself to help with your certain request.”

There was an awkward pause that waved itself in the air between the two of you. “So, you’re like my friend or something?”

“I’m a protector, whatever you wished for, so a listener,” there was a loud thud that resonated within the boat, and when you looked, he had thrown something thick like a grey blanket in, sopping wet. “That there is yours to keep.”

“What—your skin?”

“You don’t know many things about selkies, do you, dear?” He laughed, pointing to the pelt. “When a human catches a selkie and keeps its pelt, the selkie cannot transform or return to the water. So, forever more until you get bored of me, I am forever bound to you.”

You snorted out in disbelief, “No, you can’t be serious.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I cannot lie, I tell the truth as we speak.” This man-

“No, listen, I’m 17. What are my parents going to say when I return with some naked stranger who I found in a lake? They’ll think I’m insane, more so than already!” I can’t be this guy’s carer, I can barely even look after myself.

“Hey,” the selkie’s voice was calm yet cheerful when he brought you out of your freak-out. “We’ll get through this together. I’m sure your parents wouldn’t mind me looking after you.” If only you knew my parents. You dreaded, before finally coming up with an idea.

“I cannot keep your pelt.”

The pale male’s face had dropped suddenly at the drastic sombreness of your words, his eyes turned downcast. “Oh, right.” He went to let go of the boat’s side but you were quicker to grab his hand, making him turn back to you with surprise. “No, what I mean is, for the safety of both of us, you can stay here. Where you’re at home, and I can come to visit, since if you are to be my listener, we need to make sure you’re comfortable too, right?”

He wanted to reply to you, his mouth opening and shutting but finally, he said, “I guess. But, you must promise. If we are to be friends, we must trust each other. I am certain on my word, are you?”

You still couldn’t believe everything that today had thrown at you, let alone you were wanting to agree, but you were too curious for your own good. “Yeah, sure. I promise.”

He beamed a white smile back at you again, your chest rising and falling as something warm replaced what was usually so empty, fading again before you could realise. It was… nice. 

“What’s your name then, Mr seal?”

The selkie was halfway through putting back on the seal pelt, melding seamlessly with his human body as if he was zipping up a costume without needing a zipper. It looked comical to you, but it was still amazing to witness.

“Jaemos, or Robert, though that was thanks to some little girl deciding to call me that one time,” he laughed to himself, his teeth just as white as his skin. His bright eyes looked back into yours once more. “Whatever is easier to remember.”

“Jaemos it is then since it was the first option.” You smiled softly, grabbing at the ores to begin your way back to the shore before you looked back on him. “Hey, if it’s not too much trouble, could you lend me a flipper to push me back to shore?”