The Fisherman & The Mermaid - S01 E06

Story 1 week ago

The Fisherman & The Mermaid - S01 E06

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 6

playing the fish as she slowly brought it to the boat. She was really struggling. "It must be a big one, I can barely move it," she managed to get out between gasps. It seemed that every time she made any progress the fish would pull line against the drag. I knew that, in time, she would wear the fish down, but I kept my mouth closed, allowing her to concentrate on the fish. It was almost twenty minutes later that I could see the fish about three feet below the water and it was big. I encouraged her by rubbing her shoulders and back. She had renewed energy and raised the rod, lifting the exhausted fish to the surface. I netted it immediately and brought it into the boat. I weighed it at just under eight pounds. Marta jumped up and down in excitement and threw her arms around my neck. She kissed me passionately as the other fishermen hooted and howled. However, Marta was not to be deterred; she patted my ass when she broke the kiss. The look in her eyes said it all. She'd be having her way with me as soon as we got home.

That was going to be sooner than I thought we were out of bait. I pulled the anchor and we left, taking our time as we enjoyed the mild weather on the glassy sea. We took a half hour to reach the dock. I tied off the boat and we walked hand in hand to the truck. I spotted two of Jimmy's boys lounging against a fence. I nodded as we passed. They ignored me, concentrating on Marta; they wanted to be able to identify her. I wasn't a potential target; she was. It was their job to make sure she didn't become one

I was just about to winch the boat onto the trailer when some guy I never saw before asked if we'd sell him some fish. Marta was about agree when I said, "No, but I will give you one of the smaller ones." I climbed into the boat and gave him a two-pounder in a plastic bag from Wal-Mart. Once we were in the truck I explained that the fine for selling fish without a license was $500 and I had no idea who that guy was, besides this way I'd have one less fish to clean.

We were home in minutes and I could see Jimmy's men in the rearview mirror. They parked just up the road where they could see anyone who drove near to the house. I put the fish into a big galvanized tub and added a bag of ice, explaining to Marta that a cold fish was easier to fillet than a warm one.

I emptied the boat, removed my diving equipment and electronics, and hosed down the entire boat, traller, and all the gear; I hooked up the motor to a hose and flushed the interior, something I had learned to do as a kid. Then I pulled up a folding chair and covered half of the fish tub with a piece of plywood. I sharpened the knife for a few minutes on a whetstone until it was again razor sharp. Marta brought out a fork and two plastic bags-one for the fillets and the other for the racks-the skeletons.

I've had a lot of practice filieting going back to my days as a teenager. I filleted the four fish in no time, even removing the lateral bones that plague blackfish eaters and removing the skin by holding it with the fork and running the sharp knife against it, much like shaving. I ran some skewers through some of the thick meat. I'd add some tomatoes and peppers later for grilling. Now I was ready for a shower. I had installed an outside shower in the back yard especially for times like this. I led Marta to the back yard and began to remove my shirt and shoes. Marta got involved by removing my shorts and underwear over my "strong" objections. Then she joined me. "Good thing you don't have any neighbors," she whispered. We soaped each other, taking plenty of time with those special places on each other's bodies. We were almost done when I heard the alarm. I pushed Marta to the ground and dove for my pistol. I looked up in relief-it was a deer! My heart was in my throat as we both sighed and laughed uncontrollably. I pulled Marta up and dried her carefully as she gave me that look again. I opened the back door, put the fish in the fridge, and walked hand in hand to the bedroom.

We had barely reached the door when the phone rang. I answered it-it was Jimmy. I thanked him for the bodyguards and listened while he asked a question. I turned to Marta, "What's your surname? Jimmy says he'll explain tomorrow. We're going to a party."

"Vanek," Marta replied, "but, why...?"

"Jimmy," I spoke into the phone, "Vanek... yeah, V..A...N...E...K, right Marta?" She nodded and I confirmed with Jimmy. "OK, two at Papa's... see you then." I sat Marta on the bed and tried to explain, "Jimmy and his dad have a lot of connections.

things and people that you and I could never imagine. I think Papa had an idea why you were almost killed. I get the impression he doesn't think it was an accident. Oh, I should explain-I spent so much time at Jimmy's when I was a kid I always call his parents 'Mama' and 'Papa."

Marta pulled me to the bed, "Now that you know my name, don't you think I should know yours?"

"Oh God, you're going to laugh...let me start by telling you the kids used to call me 'Peter the Penis' and it wasn't because my organ was any bigger than anybody else's. My name is... Peter Peter Manning. I have the same first and middle name. Isn't that ridiculous? I've been thinking of changing it."

"What would you change it to?"

I don't know...anything would be better. Did you ever hear that nursery rhyme, "Peter, Peter, pumpkin eater? Well, the kids used to call me, 'Peter, Peter, peter eater. Oh, come on, don't laugh...not you, too?" I started laughing with her.

She fell back onto the bed, pulling me with her. We laughed for several minutes before she stopped, looked me in the eyes, stared for a few seconds, and pulled me into a sensational kiss. There was real emotion, and, if I didn't know better I would have thought real love, in this kiss. Her lips ground into mine, her tongue sought mine hungrily, sucking it into her mouth and savoring it. Marta broke the kiss, moved to the center of the bed, and spread her legs, raising her ankles high. I moved between her legs, noticing how wet and glistening her pussy was. I leaned forward for a taste -she was fresh and clean and delicious. climbed forward as she guided me straight into her waiting cunt. I entered her fully in a single thrust as Marta gasped and wrapped her legs around my waist. We began moving together-thrust for thrust, breath for breath. She leaned up as I leaned down; we kissed as our passion rose until suddenly we held our breath and exhaled a scream of ecstasy. We came and came; I knew I had never experienced anything like this before. Eventually, it ended and I whispered to Marta, "Wow!"

"Yes," Marta agreed, "I think you drowned my poor pussy."

"Speaking about drowning...should I be concerned about a little Peter?"

"Oh, Peter, you're so cute. No, I had something put under my skin. It's so much easier than taking a pill every day, besides I'm so forgetful. I could have it removed, if you want."

I knew she was just flirting, but the idea had a certain appeal, so I replied, "Hmmm, not yet." I kissed her again.

"Tell me about this party. I think I'll need some new clothes. The things we bought are OK around the house, but not for a party. Now that I have my credit cards.....

"No, Marta, if someone's out to get you using the card will be a dead giveaway. We can go out early tomorrow, but belleve me you'll be dressed fine if we don't. Jimmy's family is really down to earth. You know-slobs!"

"Oh Peter, that's a terrible thing to say."

"You haven't seen us in action. I'm probably the only person alive who can get away with teasing and insulting Jimmy's father.

They'll give it to me just as much, don't worry." got up, pulling Marta behind me and dressed. I prepared the vegetables, quartering tomatoes, slicing green peppers, and parboiling onions. I added everything to the skewers, alternating fish with veggies. I started the grill-a Weber had bought cheap from Jimmy. I frequently prayed that wouldn't be arrested for receiving stolen goods. I brushed the kebabs with extra virgin olive oil and set the timer. While everything was cooking I stripped and oiled the Glock. It was an expensive pistol and I might want to use it in the future: hell, I might need to use it in the future. I turned the kebabs after five minutes on very low heat, painted again with the oil, and returned to finish cleaning the weapon. Marta was all questions so I went out of my way to answer her. I had just finished when it was time to eat. I broke out two bottles of beer and we dug in. Marta told me that she loved fish but had never heard of blackfish before. I assured her she was in for a treat. Blacks caught in September and October always tasted like crab, their primary food all summer and fall; spring blacks weren't quite as crabby tasting, but they were still delicious as Marta soon discovered.