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The Sandpiper The sound of waves coming in to roll up onto the beach was the first sound that he heard. A long steady drumming of water on wet sand that was repeated in a building trembling roar over and over again. The second thing that his senses identified the nanosecond afterward was the stench of the salty air overwhelming him and the bright stars burning overheard against the black of the night sky. He couldn't move at all and there was nothing else around him but the beating sound of the waves on sand, the salty stench of the sea and the close compressing feeling of wet sand weighing him down and holding him fast in the darkness. He didn't think that he was too deeply buried in the wet beach sand. His line of sight was level with the beach for the most part and he could feel that he was horizontal rather than vertical, but he just couldn't seem to force his arm muscles up from where they were held down. He should be able to but he couldn't. Did he fall asleep? He wondered. Was there some reason that he had decided to go to the beach and somehow he slept until now? Did he go with others? Were they the ones who buried him? And where were they? Was his best buddy Craig behind it? It would be like him to pull this kind of stunt, but he wasn't the only one who would. Alicia, his girlfriend might have done this too, she had a serious thing for burying you in the sand if you fell asleep at the beach. But where was she? Where was anybody for that matter? He willed himself to call out. To say that he needed a little help here, but the words wouldn't move out of his throat. He couldn't move, he couldn't speak and in that moment that entire focus of all he knew shrunk to encompass only the distant light of the overhead stars, the smell of the sea and the sound of the approaching waves. There was one other thing though and realizing it only poured fuel on the fear that flared up with the realization and it was starting to consume him. He could feel the increasing wetness of the tide saturating the sand around him. The ocean was coming closer. The water it was bringing was slowly inundating the grains of sand that were holding him down motionless. The thought flashed into his mind that if he had ever thought to do so he would feel the same sensation that he felt now by lying in a slab of concrete as it set. It was soft yet firm. It cushioned him while at the same time restrained him. And with the rising water level caused by the water permeating the sand and the slowly rising sound of approaching surf it was only a matter of time before the tide rolled in and over him. He was already screaming inside at the realization that what was coming was going to happen, although there was not a single decibel of sound that could leave his upright parted lips he made the effort anyway. But there was still nothing, not even a whisper of a sound. The blind panic at being so utterly trapped and being completely helpless in the face of the oncoming surf surged throughout his entire being. He was trapped, helpless and just as soon as enough time had passed he would live just long enough to feel the water slowly cover him and then it would be over and the worst thing about it was that he had no idea just why he was going to die. There was the crunch of shoe clad feet on the sand behind him. For a moment he had a flare of hope. Whoever was coming would see him in the sand. They would pull him out of the incoming tide's reach. He didn't know why he had been left here to die but those footfalls were his only hope of living and his helpless mind seized on it and he screamed in silence for whoever it was to notice him and come save him. The footsteps came closer, but the person making them was not increasing their pace. It was the same slow steady interlude between steps as it was the moment he heard them coming toward him. Whoever it was didn't see him. That had to be it. He was buried deeply enough that his face must be hidden in some shadow in the darkness. He wanted to scream. For help, for rage, for desperation; anything would do at this point. But the steps were not passing by. They were coming closer until they stopped just behind his head, just out of his field of vision. Whoever it was just had to see him. Even with the shadows cast in the sand the stars overhead were bright enough for his face to be seen peering upward. He heard the sound of cloth moving over skin as the unknown person leaned over and then slowly, easily dropped into a wide legged squat right behind him. He had to see him, his mind screamed. He just had to. A man's face leaned over his own and looked at him for a long still moment without doing anything. His face was impassive and there was no indication that he was surprised to find him here buried in the sand just above an incoming tide. The man's harsh brown eyes looked at him coldly. "I told you to stay away from her," he said briskly. "I gave you plenty of chances, but you didn't listen." He looked up at the incoming surf and then down again at him again. "You should have listened when you had the chance and you should have done the smart thing and walked away. But you didn't listen did you? You're just not that smart are you? That's why you weren't the right man for her Lewis." Quentin. The name hovered in his mind. It was Quentin. That weaseling little prick that he had beat the crap out of a couple of weeks ago when he had the gall to tell him outright to keep away from Alicia. His sallow face leaned over Lewis; his lank greasy black hair fell down over one baleful brown eye. He had his customary two day stubble struggling to cover his weak receding chin in a futile attempt to hide it. He looked back up at the rumbling surf only a few meters away. "You didn't listen and now here we are," he said emotionlessly. Quentin was an annoying insect that was constantly circling Alicia for as long as Lewis had known her, but he never dreamed the little fuck was dangerous like this. Alicia on the other hand just said to ignore him and was polite to him when they were around each other. Although she had admitted to Lewis that most of the time she just tolerated him and that his attentions were something she had been growing tired of. She still put up with him even though her time was almost constantly engaged in deflecting in his crude attempts in other directions. It was starting to wear her down she told him. Lewis, when she told him that, had asked her if that was how she felt the why did she even let him speak with her, let alone have enough access to cause such a disturbance in her life. Lewis didn't expect for Alicia to admit to him that she loved the arrogant little pustule. Or rather she loved what he could do when he wasn't being such an annoying shit. In everyday life she had no use whatsoever for the man and in other circumstances she would have cut him out of her life long ago. It was his art that she loved not the man who crafted it. She loved his work deeply and overwhelmingly so and it seemed no matter what he did she always would. Quentin was a sand sculptor. He had a particular genius for working with wet sand that when he took his hand away the finished product would make you weep over what he had just done. He had won a slew of state and national competitions and other artists; photographers mostly, had sought to use their medium to preserve the transient nature of his creations in a more permanent fashion. He was a rising star that way all right. And he felt that somehow gave him license over Alicia. Lewis felt his field of view flicker down to the surf and then back to Quentin's looming face. Maybe it was just the fact that Lewis was buried, but right now he looked much larger to him than he should be. Normally Lewis towered over Quentin's scrawny five foot four inch frame by a good fourteen inches. The fight they had a couple of weeks ago hadn't lasted more than a couple of seconds and had ended with Quentin stuffed into a dumpster in the alley behind the Gulch. Lewis still felt he had been more than patient with Alicia's obnoxious little remora, but when he had tried to push Lewis into a puddle of some homeless guy's vomit while he was walking to the club to meet Alicia it had been a step too far. Quentin had tried to pass it off as a joke gone wrong at first, but Lewis knew it had been nothing of the sort. The little shit had moved right to offense the moment that he heard Lewis tell Craig that he intended to ask Alicia to move in with him later that night. Quentin dropped the lie after he saw it wouldn't fly and he had just gone plain aggressive after that. When he started raging that he wouldn't allow Lewis to do this; Lewis couldn't miss seeing Quentin's hand slip behind his back. He was trying to snatch something that was hidden in the small of his back out; maybe it was a gun, maybe it was a knife. Lewis wasn't going to take any chances with Alicia's nutty friend and he had immediately beaten him into a stupor with a few well-placed blows. The funny thing about it was that from the way he was acting and the way that he was reaching Lewis was certain he was grabbing for some kind of weapon, but that wasn't it. It was just a beat up old pan flute. Lewis had left Quentin there in the alley and later that night told Alicia all about it. She didn't fault him for having it out with Quentin and mentioned that he wasn't the first one of her friends to do so. The thing was that, to Alicia, the majority of their relationship was based on her adoring his art, while for him it was him adoring her. No matter how minor the relationship that she and Quentin had was, he didn't see it that way. And as much as she loved his art she promised Lewis that when Quentin came sniffing around again she was going to tell him that enough was enough and for him to leave her alone. "You don't have to worry about that Lewis," Quentin said following his glance at the creeping tide. "That water normally sits about two feet above you at high tide, but tonight that doesn't matter. When it rolls back you'll be just fine. You'll be better than fine even. You'll be just what Alicia needs," he said cryptically. Lewis felt a surge of increased dampness around him. The water table was rising now. "We have plenty of time," Quentin continued. "But we do have a time limit so let's get started." Something shadowy was thrust into his sight. "Remember this?" Quentin asked him. Lewis wanted to shout that Quentin was a moron to ask him questions when he knew that he couldn't answer, but then one of Quentin's many faults was that he was in love with the sound of his own voice and babbled constantly. It was the old wooden pan flute that Lewis had knocked out of his hand a couple of weeks ago. "It's a good thing you didn't damage this," Quentin said sulkily. "If you had we'd still be having this conversation, but only one of us would be walking away from it. It's better this way though for you. It really is." "I'm sure that you're wondering why it is that you can't move right now. Why you can't speak even though I know you desperately want to. But the biggest thing that has to be nagging you is how you even got here. Well this is the answer to all of those why's," he said wagging the flute over him. "I made up my mind to just use this on you when we had our little 'disagreement' a couple of weeks ago, but I realized afterward that I should have bided my time for a couple of more hours. You almost really wreaked things you know that? But it really doesn't matter in the long term. Just a couple of more hours from now and it really won't matter in the long term because it never happened at all." Quentin slapped the sand about Lewis's face, probably to get his attention he supposed, as if he wouldn't be watching and planning just what he would do the moment he got his hands around that scrawny psycho's neck. "The reason you don't have any memory of how you got here is this; there is a special little melody that I can play on this little flute. When you heard it you did exactly what I told you to do. You got into the car with me and you sat there like a good little doll while we drove here. After we got here you took off your clothes and left them in the car. Then you lay down in the sand where I told you to and didn't move while I covered you up. I buried you and then I played another melody I know and that one is why you are the way you are right now. I kept your mind quiet until now because we needed to wait until the tide was coming in to finish our business together and because I wanted you to know everything before we leave here later on." Quentin held the flute a little closer to him so he could see it better. The wood on the different lengths of pipe was stained dark and polished by the countless hands that had held it and used it over the years. In the moonlight it looked almost black, but from Lewis's quick glance at it before, he knew it was a dark ruddy reddish wood. "It took me a long time to work out what this was you know," he continued. "It took even longer to figure out how I could use it and I still haven't mastered it. The one melody I need to know is the one that I don't." "If I could play that one, none of what's going to happen tonight would be necessary and it's likely that we wouldn't even be aware of each other's existence." Lewis had no idea what this crazy little shit was talking about, but whatever it was, it was something that bothered Quentin a lot. Quentin slid his finger across the dark polished wood longingly. "This isn't just any pan flute Lewis," he said. "It's Pan's flute." He drew it back out of Lewis's sight and shifted his gaze out to the encroaching waves while he kept talking. Lewis always figured that out of all of the people that he knew in his life that if anyone would be a monologue prone asshole it would be Quentin. The one good thing about this little conversation for Lewis was that now that it was underway he wasn't gripped in the terror that he had felt since awakening. Quentin may be a sick puppy, but from what he had let slip so far, whatever it was that he had in mind for Lewis didn't include letting the sea wash him into whatever afterlife there was waiting for him after drowning. "Pan used his flute to strike complete terror in the hearts of the titans when they warred with Olympus," he said dryly like he was revealing the secrets of the universe instead of talking about some cruddy pipe he had picked up in a thrift store somewhere. "The old legends say that when he played a certain tune on it during the battle their enemies were gripped by such fear that they fled in blind fear. The story says that is where we get the word panic from, but the stories also told about the other ways that Pan used this flute as well. The one that really got my attention though was the one that said that if he played a certain song at the right time, that whoever heard it would fall completely, utterly, irreversibly in love with him and they would be forever devoted to him the rest of their lives." He looked down at Lewis again. "I may not know that song, but I do know a lot of others. Every time I figure another one out I'm more amazed at what this little instrument can do. I've already used it in so many ways it's hard to count. This little flute gave me mastery of sculpting sand. Before I played that song over and over I was mediocre talent at best. I can admit that to you now. You won't be telling anybody any of this." "I thought I almost had it once you know, but it wasn't quite it. It was close though and I've made good use of that one since I figured it out." He looked back up toward the surf gauging how much time they had by watching its slow approach. "I did find one that I thought was it and that one did make Alicia love me in its own way," he admitted. "Or rather it makes her love my art. It's really laughable in its own way, what you tried to do after our fight. The way you tried to get her to walk away from me, from us, from what we are supposed to be. No matter what she told you, she won't ever walk away from me. She may not love me completely yet, but she loves what I can do with sand. You never had a chance Lewis." Quentin reached over to the damp sand and ran his fingers through it. "It's not quite right, but it's almost there," he said. "I know you want to move right now," he said, looking down at Lewis. "I figure that you're probably waiting for me to make some kind of mistake and then you think that you can rise up out of the sand and finish what you tried to start last time." He was right about that. While he was listening to Quentin, Lewis had been looking for his chance to do just that. He still didn't know what it was that he could do, but if there was any opportunity he would use it to squash this crazy little shit. Quentin reached for some of the sand piled onto Lewis's chest and dug his fingers deeply into it. If he could, Lewis would have gasped in shock when he did that, He absolutely would have. He could feel Quentin's fingers digging into him and not just the discomfort of being poked too hard either. He literally felt the man's fingers moving into the mass of his chest and when his hand lifted up the clump of sand to inspect it, Lewis could feel it separating from him. "That's coming along nicely," he said in a deceptively conversational tone. As he shook the wet sand from his fingertips, Lewis could feel it merging back into him and there was absolutely nothing he could think of that would explain what it was that he had just felt happen. He had just felt Quentin remove a chunk of himself but all he saw was wet sand in his hand and Lewis's mind stumbled and sputtered over and over to itself that it was impossible. "I'm sure that was a surprise for you," Quentin said in a self-satisfied way. "That comes from another little song that I figured out quite some time ago. You see after I buried you, before I woke up your mind, I played that song for you. And because I did, the reason that you can't move or speak right now, is that until I am finished with you your body is nothing more than a patch of sand. I brought you here tonight because it's past time that I made a few changes in you and now that you are my preferred medium, I have so many improvements that I'm going to make before I'm done with you." Now Lewis was screaming in truth. No matter how outrageous what Quentin had just said was to him, he knew it was the absolute truth. He had felt the rising water level moving through his shifting grains of being and he felt the crush of madness from it smothering him. Then in the raging tempest of his sanity breaking he heard it; a high lilting melody that moved over and through him and washed the madness away. It washed it away and left a solid tranquility in its place that he couldn't explain, but that he welcomed wholeheartedly at the same time. The song drifted into silence and the Quentin's face hovered above him again. "I need your mind in one piece Lewis," he said quietly. "I can do this regardless, but it's a lot easier if I don't have to reassemble it from the pieces left over. That doesn't turn out so well. Carmen is a complete airhead because I let her mind shatter and that is an outcome that I don't want to repeat again. It's too much trouble." Lewis heard him fumbling in the sand behind him and then heard the chuff of a shovel biting into the wet sand beside him. If Lewis could have done so he was sure that there would be a questioning look on his face right now. Quentin began to move more sand on top of where Lewis was. He could feel the wet shlorp of it as it was being dumped out of the shovel and onto him. "I suppose if I wanted to I could just leave you the way you are." He paused at some of the words and grunted a little as he heaved another shovel full of sand onto Lewis. "I'm sure that eventually the tide would pull you apart and then in time scatter you all over the world in, but that's really not an option either. As much as I dislike having to do this again I can't just eliminate you from Alicia's life. I did that once before and I won't do it again. Like I said before, the only reason is that's too much trouble." Quentin sunk the shovel upright into the sand and leaned over Lewis and started smoothing the sand clumps into a single mound. When he finished he reached for the shovel again and started adding more sand to Lewis. "I'm sure that you thought you were the only one," he said as he worked. "Carmen thought he was the only one too before we had a chat like this. All of you macho idiots never even thought to question that a beautiful woman like Alicia was surrounded by so many girlfriends. You just accepted it and moved in on her like she was yours to take." Lewis had noticed that, despite what Quentin said. He knew that women traveled in packs for lots of reasons. But even knowing that, Alicia's circle of female friends seemed larger than most when he started seeing her after they fell in the same taxi from opposite sides trying to escape from the rain. It was happenstance but the weather was so miserable out that they decided to share the cab and the driver didn't care since it saved him the trouble of hunting up another fare after dropping one of them off. Lewis had suggested that the cabbie drop him off first since he didn't think that she would be too comfortable with some strange guy knowing where she lived and he told her that he knew that, if they didn't drop him off first, that she would get out early and have to walk through that mess before she got home for real. When she found out that he lived much further away in the opposite direction from her place she hesitated, but after Lewis insisted on paying her the difference in the fare she agreed. On the way to his place they just kept talking and didn't stop and by the time he had to step out of the cab she had pressed her number into his hand and said she'd like to talk with him some more later on. Lewis met all of her girlfriends in dribs and drabs along the way as they started spending more and more time together. A couple of months after they started seeing each other Alicia invited Lewis to a birthday party for Tammy, her outspoken utterly southern running buddy. As woman after woman joined what seemed like a parade to him he felt like a complete introvert in comparison to her. Lewis had a couple of really close friends, but nothing like Alicia's crew. When it was clear that he was there to be with her what was also clear was that quite a few of her friends didn't approve very much of him. He'd lost count of how many times some of them had not so very slyly suggested to him that he wasn't right for Alicia. They made it clear that they thought he was good enough as a person and they also made it clear that they liked him as a man. They just didn't like him with her. A couple of them had even tried to seduce him before it got too serious between him and Alicia. Lewis had surprised himself by turning their offers down. The thing was that he wasn't even trying to chase after Alicia. Their whole relationship for weeks after they met was based on just being together. It was organic and unforced and what surprised Lewis about it was the whole lack of urgency on his part to push it forward. They were both just content to let it play out at its own speed with no pressure from either of their parts. Honestly he had to admit to himself that, in the first few weeks, if he had taken up one of her girlfriends on her offer he didn't think that Alicia would have been bothered by it. Being together the way they were now was far in the future and she might have been happy that two of her friends ended up together that way. Alicia had even said as much just after they did decide that they wanted to be together. He'd told her about what had happened between him and a few of her girlfriends because he wanted her to know that it had come up. She told him after his admission that she already knew about it. A couple of them had mentioned to her that they had a crack at seeing if they could get him to respond and that he had turned them down flat. The only person that she knew who made it clear that he was openly against their relationship was Quentin. He was a late introduction to Lewis. He'd been away at a competition in France and didn't return until after they had been seeing each other for a week or more. They weren't the only ones either. Alicia admitted that more than a few of her friends had tried to discourage their budding relationship on her end as well. That was one of the reasons that it took so long for her to decide to dive in. It was also the reason that she started looking at him more seriously as well. Quentin finished adding sand and lay the shovel down out of Lewis's sight. He reached for the trowel that he used for the next stage and started smoothing and shaping the sand that he had been piling so steadily. Lewis felt the water table a few meters away from where his feet should have been began to rise as the waves flowed toward him. "Do you know what the most annoying thing about this is?" he asked rhetorically. "It's that out of all of them you're the one she does love." Lewis felt a surge of deep satisfaction inside of his being hearing that smarmy shit have to admit that. He already knew it from hearing it spill from Alicia's own lips; and from knowing he returned the sentiment with equal fervor was no secret to him. But beneath the pacific calm that Quentin's song had placed him in, he still felt extremely gratified to hear him say it. "The others, all of them were just passing interests even if she didn't really know it. But not you and because of that you made so much more trouble for me than you realize," Quentin continued bitterly. Lewis hadn't realized that and he still had no idea what Quentin was talking about just yet, but there was something that he had noticed. He was starting to feel his body again. He could feel arms and his legs again. Faintly true, but it was still there and as the feeling grew he began to wonder if whatever it was that Quentin had done to him was starting to wear off. He was still calm and peaceful, but underneath that he began to consider his options if he could get free. It would have to be soon though. Even though he was feeling greater connection to himself with each passing moment he also could feel the tide getting closer with each wave. The last two were already reaching under the sand toward him, barely a meter and a half now. Quentin had moved closer to his face now. He was moving rapidly as the water approached. Lewis had seen him like this more than a few times before. Every time Alicia had insisted on going to the beach she practically begged Quentin to do something with the sand while they were there. Every time Quentin would give in to her and start working something up. When he lost himself in his art he was like a machine. There was no movement that was wasted and even though there was nothing else about the man that Lewis found to like he could see why she was so obsessive over him as an artist. Animals, people, places, it didn't matter what it was that he worked with. From a mound of sand Quentin coaxed them all out and polished them in exquisite detail for her. When the water was almost lapping at Lewis's toes, barely inches away now, Quentin flicked some last grains of loose sand away from Lewis's mouth and then stood up. "It's almost time," he said and walked out of sight for a moment. Lewis heard the rattle of metal on metal and figured that he was putting his tools into that old canvas bag that he used to carry them around in. There was some shuffling and a few faint metallic clicks and then the darkness vanished into a blinding glare of light that illuminated the area around them as brightly as a summer day. Lewis felt he could almost move now. When the lights flared he could feel the reflex to blink and it was almost intolerable that he couldn't. He was certain that he'd was moving out of the trance that Quentin used to subdue him now and when he did he was going to really fuck him up for this. Quentin moved back into sight with a camera in his hands. He darted along the perimeter snapping photos of Lewis. His hands worked the lens, zooming out for a wide angle shot and then in for a close up and then repeating the process. When he finished he walked out of sight again and the lights switched off. Lewis heard the muffled sound of him packing them up and then the slap of his shoes onto the sand as he walked back to Lewis. He stretched out in a half reclining position near where Lewis's head was. Lewis strained but he still couldn't move yet. If he could he was going to head butt Quentin to start off the truly epic ass kicking he planned to inflict on him. "We've only got a minute or so left," he said flipping the camera open to display the shots he had taken on the tiny screen. "I thought you'd like a look at this before we begin. You should be flattered; this is really some of my finest work." Lewis felt his eyes move to the picture Quentin had for him and felt a surge of savage glee because he had actually felt as if they moved. "It won't be long now," he said to himself glancing over at the man beside him. "I'm going to give it to you like you have never gotten it before," he said to himself in a silent promise. There was a tickle of liquid only a few centimeters away and Lewis looked over what Quentin had done while he was running his mouth to him. He was right about one thing; it was some of his finest work. In the sand above Lewis he had smoothed and shaped and picked out in painstaking detail a full body sculpture of an achingly beautiful woman. She was not even as tall as Quentin himself. That much was obvious. She lay on the sand with her legs half spread in invitation. Quentin had even paid specific attention to pick out every detail of her exposed clitoris and labial lips while he was working on that part. She was a slender thing too. Almost a compilation of what men who focus solely on a woman's appearance think she should be. Her smooth inviting thighs moved up into her rounded hips and then her curves pinched inward at the waist. Her breasts were large for her body size, but Lewis estimated that they were no more than a full B. The just looked like there was more there in comparison. She had long slender fingers and he had even managed to make it look like she had one of the fancier nail treatments that Alicia sometimes indulged in when she felt like it. Her face was perched atop a swan like neck with long curly hair spread out around her head and drifting over and under her shoulders while it peeked out from beneath her back. The face was another thing entirely. Even as strongly as he felt about Alicia he would have to have openly stared at the woman who had this face if she really existed. She had high delicate cheekbones that put him in the mind of having an almost elf-like quality. Her lips curved in sculpted full round juiciness above a small pointed chin that moved up in an oval face. Her large expressive eyes were half lidded in anticipation and the hair that Quentin had carved from the sand of her high forehead curled away lazily to gather at her temples before plunging down to join the rest of her mane. Each part was impressive by itself but looking at the last couple of frames was rather staggering for Lewis. If he was walking down the beach and had seen this, not knowing where it had come from he would have been certain that it was a sand sculpture of a woman who had either just had sex on the beach or was just about to. It was all there. The posture of the body inviting further exploration, the heavy lustful glance that hung over her face. Even the eyes seemed to be animated with desire. The only thing that stood out as an imperfection was the slight rounding of her belly and the small circle in a circle tattoo Quentin had inscribed just below her navel. "I thought of doing this as a flaming gay man at first," he said as he switched the camera off and closed the display screen. "But that would just be asking for it I realized. She's gone too far with you and even if you were the gayest man to ever exist you would still be a man and there was just too much of a possibility that Alicia would push through the adjustment and make connections I don't want her thinking about." He walked back to where his equipment was out of sight and he heard him putting it in its case and then slipping it into the canvas bag as well. There was a clear faint breath of water almost touching his foot now. It was only millimeters away. Another three or four wavelets and they would start washing over Quentin's work and not long afterward it would begin to wash away. Quentin walked back into view holding the ancient panpipe. "I thought next of making a dog instead. A nice big one. A German shepherd maybe, possibly a golden retriever or even an Irish setter would do. Some breed with size and lots of long fur that she could obsess over for a time, but that was something I haven't done like this before and there are too many factors to bother with that doing that could screw the outcome I'm shooting for up." Quentin raised the pipe almost to his lips as he watched the water carefully. "In the end I decided that it was best to go this route. There is so little chance of foul ups this way and Alicia will be just as she ought to be when you see her again. You nearly ruined everything before, but I'm certain that now you'll understand exactly what your position is in your relationship with my Alicia from now on." He pressed his lips to the pipes and as the first curl of water reached Lewis's foot Quentin started playing a song that started out slow and soft and haunting. From the first note it filled Lewis's being and struck something deep inside. It resonated with a core that he wasn't aware that he had and as he focused on the sound he didn't even feel the water start to wash over him. "As soon as I can move I'm going to give it to you. You're going to be so fucked when I get hold of you," Lewis promised Quentin over and over as the music washed through him and as the water washed over him. The song wasn't like the one he remembered before, the one that had calmed him. Then as the water receded in a long pulling wave it stopped. He could feel night air on his skin now and the water began to flow toward him again. As it did another song began to play. There were parts of the earlier song in it but that was not all. There was building energy in it now. It was throbbing and there was a budding satisfaction that resonated deep inside of Lewis's center. "You're getting so fucked when I get hold of you," he repeated as he felt the water wash higher. It was mid-thigh of the sand woman now and he felt the sand fall away from his ankles as the current pulled the soaked sand particles away from his flesh. The song began repeating, the tempo moving faster now, an insistent increasing scale that if he could do so, it would have made him want to gasp with the sudden feeling it brought. A wave larger than the others curled in and washed up to his waist. The sand fell away from his thighs in part and the leg that he had half raised fell gradually down to lie flat on the slick sand. Lewis felt such relief that he could move his legs again that at first he didn't do anything. He just lay there on the sand with his legs splayed wide feeling the water washing over his genitals and up over his belly. "Gonna fuck you like you've never been fucked," he repeated as the next wave washed over him and swirled around the sand woman's breasts. He felt them sag to the side as water and gravity took control of them and they fell away from each other a little, spreading out flatter as they did so. The tempo of the song increased again and he felt his chest heave as the music made the rapid breathing he already felt heave into motion. The water washed over his shoulders and unconsciously he felt his arms stretch and reach up out of the water. Lewis stretched them upward toward the stars trying to pull something down but there was nothing there for him to pull. He felt long wet hair moving with the current as they washed over more of him. The breasts that Quentin had shaped were being surprisingly resistant to the pounding that they were taking from the water, he would have thought that they would have washed away completely by now, but they hadn't. A heavy wave curled over him reaching as far as the open sandy mouth and washing some of it away. Lewis drew in a ragged breath and expelled it in a long shuddering moan. He felt the water rushing over the bare skin of his chest. The taut nipples atop the statue's breasts there stood out at least half an inch; long thick and inviting to lips wanting to kiss them. He felt his own nipples crinkle in time with them. The song came faster and faster and as the next wave spilled over him he ground his pelvis upward unconsciously to meet it and spread his legs wider. His hands were reaching up through the water reaching for empty air above. His pelvis was thrusting in time the increasing tempo of the song. He raised his legs off the sand and saw his delicate feet with his red painted toenails raised just out of the surging water. He brought his thighs back against his belly. His mouth automatically closed as the water washed over the lower part of his face. He felt the hoops in his earlobes move with the water as it advanced and then fell back. His moans were coming in a high rapid keening blending with the insistent wail of the pipes. "I'm gonna fuck you, I'm gonna fuck you, I'm gonna fuck you," came with each breathy moan that spilled from Lewis's full lips. The next wave that was coming was a big one; Lewis knew that this was the one that would cover him completely and this was the one that he knew would set him free to move without restraint. To finally be able to give to Quentin exactly what Lewis was going give him now that he could do so. The water hit and curled over and completely covered Lilah. She arched her neck upward and felt her wet scalp move against the sand beneath her head. Her long curly red hair splayed out like seaweed and moved with the water in all directions. As her orgasm hit she clenched her muscles, legs shuddering as she felt the power throbbing throughout her spasming vagina. She couldn't help herself. She felt her ankles cross and she tried to draw what was thundering between her legs even closer. Her hand embraced it and she felt her long French nails trying to dig into the back of the one who was giving her such pleasure. She opened her mouth even though the water had not been shed from her face yet. The throbbing of pipes echoed in her as her voice wailed higher and higher. Lost in the best orgasm she had ever experienced she could barely discern it when her repeated promise became nothing more than her gasping "Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" with each breath. The music from the pipes stopped and Lilah could move finally. As much as she wanted to just lie here she knew she had to get moving. It was over now, they had done what they came here to do and she needed to get out of the water now. She sat up and felt her head rise out of the water and took a deep ragged breath. No wonder it had taken so long she realized. The last few breakers had surged forward together in rapid succession. She was now almost breast deep in the incoming tide. Her breasts were bobbing slightly as the water moved them with it as it passed around her. She felt the sand shift beneath her plump buttocks and gathered her shaky legs beneath her before forcing herself to stand up. The tug of the current flowed around her thighs. "God that was so intense," she said in her soft high soprano. She looked up to where the sand still was uncovered by the incoming tide. Quentin was standing there watching her. While she was standing in the water feeling it surge around her and still reeling from the aftershocks that were still rumbling from her vagina and echoing throughout her body. She felt her clit tremble with each wave that hit it as she saw him pick up his gear and carry it up the beach to where his car was parked. "Oh no you don't," she thought as she watched him come back. "You're not getting out of this without me fucking you like you deserve to be fucked for doing this to me." Lilah strode out of the water toward him. As she made her way through the tall beach grass just at the edge of the high tide marker she saw that he hadn't taken everything back to the car. The blanket that he had put under his gear to keep sand out of it was still lying there. "So how was it?" he asked as if he didn't know damned well what she had just gone through. "Is it everything you wanted?" Lilah stopped in front of him and stretched her hands upward. She felt her breasts bounce slightly as she thrust them toward him temptingly and moved her hips in a slow roll that left no doubt of the depth of the invitation being extended. She ran her tongue lightly over her lips in a lustful way to him just in case he was too dense to get the message. He wasn't. She could see his pants begin to tent in response and she looked up to him. One of the things she really liked about Quentin was that he wasn't too tall. With other men she felt impossibly tiny but when she stood next to him she just felt normal. "Almost," she said in as inviting a tone as she could muster. "What do you mean 'almost'?" Quentin asked. "I did for you exactly what I did for Alicia. You can't possibly be disappointed in how it turned out." "Oh I'm not," she said as she pushed him over to land on the blanket behind him. He didn't put up any resistance as she unbuckled his belt and peeled away his pants to expose his rigid cock. She was glad he was up for it right now. Her pussy was so wet right now that she wasn't entirely sure that she wouldn't just slip off of him. As she straddled him and lowered herself on him she gasped as she felt him slip easily inside of her. "I just...ohh." "Promised...oh yeah." "When...I... could moooovvvve." She drew the word out long and slowly as she moved and seated him deeply inside her. "What? What'd you promise?" Quentin asked her responding as her slick cunt clenched around him. "To fuck you...aaaahhh." "To fuck yooooou... liiiike youuu'd never been fucked before." Lilah spat the last part out in a rush as she ground against him and felt him moving inside her. "Tooo givve you exactly....Whaaattt you deserve!" Her words came in a rush as she arched over him and dangled her breasts close to his mouth so he could lick them while he plumbed her deepest parts. She felt him lift her up and roll her over. As her back sank into the blanket she spread her legs wider so that he could sink as deeply as he could in her and then locked her ankles together around him. She felt his head move over one side of her neck and she pulled him tightly against her. Her nails clawed against his back and her voice was one high pitched wail as she was lost in the pleasure of her furrow deeply ploughed She felt him shuddering and twitching deep inside her and pulled herself tightly against him as she felt his warm load spreading out inside of her. They didn't move for a long time afterward. But eventually she felt him shift away and pull his limp spent cock out of her. Lilah pouted at him and made a drawn out disappointed sound as it fell free from her body. "We've got to get headed back to town soon," Quentin said to her reaching for the clothes she had stripped from him. "Do we have to?" she asked pulling herself up against him as he stood up. "You know we do," he said zipping up his fly. Lilah let him go and curled around herself while he went to get the clothes she had left in the car while they did this. She looked down at the noticeable rounding of her belly and she was confused for a moment. Hadn't she had a small tattoo just beneath her navel? Something tiny wrapped in what was almost a circle of some kind. She shook her head. She was just being silly. If she had a tattoo there it certainly wouldn't have disappeared suddenly and what she did have there was already starting to become increasingly obvious for anyone to see. Quentin walked back and tossed her bag on the blanket beside her. "This was a one-time thing Lilah," he said firmly to her. "You know I love Alicia even though she doesn't love me yet." Lilah slipped her panties on and felt the sheer material cling to the wetness of her well fucked pussy. As she felt them slide into place she also felt his seed trickle a little out of her and she felt the dampness of it spread throughout the cloth. "Of course I know that," she replied to him as she slipped her bra on and felt her breasts settle into the cups. Her nipples were still so hard after the last two rounds and she felt an almost inaudible moan come from her mouth as they rubbed against the material. Craig needed to be home for her soon. She would need his attention right away to give her what she really needed before she would start to feel a little more settled after this evening's fun. "All of us girls know that. But until she wises up and accepts that you're the only man for her I'm yours anytime you want me." "What about Craig?" he asked her. "Craig doesn't need to know everything that I do. He knows I'm his in all the most important ways and that's good enough for us both," Lilah said as she slipped her wedding rings back on and then pulled her blouse on to cover the slight rounding of her belly. Lilah stepped into her skirt on and slipped her feet into her white mules. Quentin leaned down and stuffed the blanket into the bag after shaking off the sand. She leaned over and gave him a quick deep kiss. "He may say it's a one-time thing," she thought, "but he'd never said no to Lilah yet." The fact is that the little stallion had never said no to any one of twenty or so odd girls that formed Alicia's circle of friends. Not to Carmen, not to Brenda, not to Marie and certainly not to her; Quentin didn't say no to any of them even though they all knew Alicia was the one he was supposed to be with. Lila leaned against his shoulder as they walked back to the car. "I may not have his heart," she said to herself, "but at least I can have his dick whenever he feels like giving it to me." She opened his door for him and then walked around and opened her own and slid into the passenger seat. She looked down at the roundness of her pregnancy stretching her belly out slightly and carefully buckled her belt around her. Quentin got in and closed the door and then started the engine. As the car pulled out into the road she realized that she couldn't put it off any longer. She was going to have to tell Craig, Alicia and the rest of the girls that she was finally a full member of the club. It had been strange for her to be the only other woman besides Alicia that wasn't always pregnant or nursing a child, but those days were over for good now. The trees lining the road started to blur as Quentin sped up. It was going to be rough on Alicia when Lilah told her little sister about her impending baby. Lilah was just such a lucky woman. Poor sister Alicia in contrast, just couldn't seem to get a man to be with her at all, regardless of how gorgeous she was. It was hard enough on her when Lilah and Craig were married leaving Alicia as the only unmarried woman in their group. Lilah knew Alicia would be happy for her but she also knew that now that Alicia was the only one in their circle who wasn't pregnant, it was going to make her feel more out of place than she already did. Lilah being the only other one not yet pregnant was part of why she and her sister were so close, even if Lilah had abandoned her single life by getting married to her college flame Craig. Now Alicia was going to be the odd woman out again, but it could be also be just what little sister needed. Maybe being the last woman in the group who wasn't married or pregnant would be just the nudge she needed to see that Quentin was the one who was always there waiting for her. That he was who she was supposed to be with. She'd realize it sooner or later that Quentin was the husband she was waiting for and that she really wouldn't be happy until she had his ring on her finger and was comparing her own belly with the rest of them. Lilah told herself that helping Alicia to actually realize it was what she really needed to do when they got back. Lilah decided that she would speak with a few of the others when she made her announcement and see just what Lilah and the rest of their girlfriends could do to make sure Alicia made the right decision and that she had all the support she would need until she realized it herself. Lilah leaned over against Quentin and she felt his arm slip over her shoulders. Alicia was lucky she had him even if she didn't know it yet. And Lilah was lucky that she was right here beside Quentin keeping Alicia's place warm for her. As Quentin felt her unzip his pants and guide his cock into her mouth he reconsidered as he always did after making this kind of change the choice he had made not to play the lust song for Alicia like he had for the others. Like always, he eventually told himself no. He told himself it wasn't needed and that he was closer every day to finding the love song and then everything would be perfect between them. But times like this, when he had to deal with interlopers, he found that just playing the song that he did know may be all that he really needed anyway. It might be better than he thought he mused as Lilah's head moved up and down his cock eagerly while he drove. At least he would have Alicia as his for the most part then without others trying to take her away from him. And she wouldn't object at all when any one of her girlfriends paid their respects to him. But it wasn't what he wanted. He wanted her to love him and until he could find the right tune to make her do that he'd just have to wait. Quentin guessed that just made him a hopeless romantic as he felt a rush in his loins as Lilah succeeded in bringing him to climax again. He glanced over at her as she licked his seed off of her lips and then dropped the visor mirror down to repair her lipstick. "So much better than a dog," he thought to himself.