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Shark Shampoo

Written by Leo_Todrius

Supported by my Patrons

If the idea of summer could have been crystalized, Sean was sure it would have been a burning hot crystal. The sun had baked the beach, making the golden yellow sand and the almost suspiciously glistening asphalt parking lot equally perilous. The reason why anyone ventured out to the beach on such a hot day was clear, though; everywhere else was far worse. The inland cities were scorching while cool breezes blew in off the ocean, and those talented enough to surf had it the best.

While Sean was hardly the best surfer at Dagger Point, he was practically the poster child for it. After a long morning of surfing, he'd ventured back inland, carrying his board up the beach. He'd elected to wear a wet-suit to expose less of his skin to the sun, but the portions of his arms and ankles and face that weren't covered were a healthy tawny tan. His long wavy hair was salt kissed by the sea spray and seemed to represent a rainbow of hues from honey brown to platinum blond with each strand falling artfully across his shoulders. He had boyish good looks that hinted at the maturity of the man he was becoming and his blue eyes glinted as bright as the seawater.

Sean was the kind of guy that appreciated being appreciated, both for his talents and his looks. The walk up from the water line had been met with his fair share of admiring, even longing looks from a variety of women and men alike. Sean enjoyed them both, but it had been the fellow men that he'd given a bit of an affectionate grin too. When the shadow of the rest area building finally fell across him, Sean exhaled a bit. He hadn't realized just how hot he'd been. It felt at least twenty degrees cooler just in the shade and his skin almost sung with the sudden relief. The surfer propped his board up against the outside of the beige painted cinder-block structure and moved in, walking through the open air interior that showed a plexiglass covered map of the state, past the ancient vending machines humming with coolant chilling the cans inside, past the dubious water fountain and finally to the bathrooms that made up the second half of the structure.

The heavy door resisted attempts to enter, no doubt designed to stay shut even in hurricane conditions. Once inside, Sean was hit with the complex aromas of a state run rest stop; ammonia, bleach, and humidity. The humidity came from one of Dagger Point's more unique features, the showers. Many rest stops up and down the coast had spigots to wash sand off traveler's feet, but Dagger Point was one of the surfing capitals of the world. That unique draw meant certain regionally specific customs had to be recognized. Sean headed to the third shower stall from the edge, his favorite one, and turned on the water. The spray hesitated, considered, contemplated, and then sputtered before coming out in a relatively high pressure stream. It was not heated but it would help get the salt off.

Sean stepped into the water, finding it at least a little warmer than the surf. He let it splatter across his wet-suit, running down the front before he turned around. The cascade swept across his ample shoulders, down the supple valley of the curve of his back, then over the plump, full cheeks of his bubble butt. He turned sideways, then the other wide, letting it all rinse him before he reached up and unzipped, letting the black and blue neoprene like material release his chest. His nipples hardened at the sudden assault, a feat given that they'd already been nearly as hard as diamonds while he was surfing. Sean closed his eyes, took a breath and dipped his head forward.

The spray of water blasted his salt laced hair, getting the seawater out. The briny aroma faded, replaced with one of sweat and effort matted deep. Sean always considered himself more of a sea dog than a wet dog and the smell wasn't going to be an appealing one throughout the rest of the day. He opened one blue eye and peered around, hoping and praying. While the park service maintained the rest stop, there weren't any amenities other than toilet paper provided. The tiny shelves bolted to the corner of the shower stalls were meant to hold the soap that tourists brought with them. One of them held a nearly depleted bottle of shampoo, though it was a brand Sean had never seen before.

"Don't mind if I do." He said, picking up the sun bleached bottle. While the label was faded and eroded by humidity, there was enough left to make out a shark curving his body around the edge of bubble letters proclaiming the contents to be 'Shark Shampoo'. The inner contents were a deep greenish blue, almost like seaweed in a lagoon. Sean wasn't in a position to be picky and squirted a blob onto his hand, returned the bottle to the shelf and got to work. The soap started to lather and fizz almost at once as he worked it into his blonde locks. The lather was extra foamy and even the water didn't seem to get rid of it as it fizzled and tingled on his scalp. It reminded him a little of the foam the surf kicked up, but he paid it no mind.

As Sean worked the shampoo down deeper into his hair, the wet dog smell of his own musk started to disappear, replaced by a sort of manly, rubbery, faintly tangy scent. It was appealing, energizing, even... stimulating. It smelled like copper, like leather, like manliness. Sean's eyes dilated, the black growing bigger as the blue constricted. His already hard nipples got harder, but so too did his manhood. He had peeled his wet-suit down to the waist, but kept his modesty by obscuring his package beneath the material. It seemed his package no longer wished to be obscured and it was growing longer and thicker, stretching the material out. The pressure, the confines, even the texture only turned Sean on more, accelerating the process.

Feeling his heart race and his lungs rise and fall, Sean was electrified by the response he'd had to the Shark Shampoo. It was amazing... More than that, it was the best shower he'd had in his life. The odds were that the owner of the shampoo was never coming back, that the product had been abandoned as they left Dagger Point with no intention of returning any time soon. That was, at least, the justification Sean gave himself as he grabbed the bottle, squirted out more of the turquoise gel and began to smear it across his chest, under his arms, down his stomach, and then finally into his wet-suit.

A moan escaped Sean's lips as the exotic foam soaked into his bush, coated his cock, smothered his balls and reached the perineum of flesh between his legs. He shivered as he massaged and groped himself, making lewd faces, fully aware that there was no door or curtain to the shower, only the stainless steel partitions on either side. He gave himself a grope, a squeeze, but he didn't dare stroke himself off right there... but it felt so good, better than he'd ever felt before. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, battling with himself before he finally unhooked the fabric of his wet-suit from his bulge and let it slip down, wiggling until it peeled itself free to slip down around his ankles.

The surfer stood there like a Greek statue come to life. His wavy hair had been freed of the salt, each strand held together by water rather than salt or brine. It cascaded in overlapping, feathered waves like a forest of seaweed while his well tanned skin glistened in the faint light coming in from the mesh covered vents that ran around the top of the bathroom, acting as much as natural skylights as air circulation. The constant roaring of the ocean paired so well with the growl of the water coming out of the ancient shower head, the cascading water pushing the suds across every inch of the surfer's muscled body.

Sean's skin tingled, kissed by the cool water and the gentle but masculine shampoo, releasing the pent up heat of the near sunburn he'd acquired. It felt like it had the healing power of aloe, the cool bite of mint and the musk of a good cologne. The foam was resilient and his skin felt tougher, firmer, and stronger. Sean's moans were becoming more regular and even as he massages himself, exhaling as his fingers coiled around his shaft. It felt so much more intense than it ever had before, but if it was the shark shampoo that gave him that edge, maybe there was a way to make it feel even better...

It was usually a lesson learned early on in a young man's life that getting soap near his most intimate region was a hazard, but Sean didn't care. While his right hand slid up and down his pole, he lowered the purloined bottle of Shark Shampoo down. He took a breath, squeezed the aged bottle and watched the turquoise gel dribble out. As soon as his hand glided over it, the gel erupted into thick suds that slipped up and down his cock, working into his bush and lathering up over his balls. The sensation was instant.

"Fuck!" Sean groaned, enough to hear his voice echo off of the stainless steel and cinder blocks around him. His cock didn't just throb, it ached, it swelled, it firmed. It felt like it was growing in his hand despite the fact that it was already as hard as it had ever been, but it seemed that was far from the limit. Sean's eyes squeezed tightly shut as he panted, his hand speeding up and down, faster and harder. He tried to get the bottle of shampoo onto the shelf without seeing it and barely managed to precariously place it on the corner. His entire world was now rooted in the length of his overly sensitive manhood.

Forward, back, forward, back... Sean was living in the moment, basking and relishing. It had to be his imagination, but it felt like he could feel his manhood growing fatter and thicker and rounder by the second. He ripped his hand up and down the chubby length only to realize that the tips of his fingers weren't touching anymore. They had been pried apart. He opened his eyes, the irises oddly black and big. He looked down in confusion, his jaw hanging open to reveal sharpening teeth as he panted, though even the shock wasn't enough to stop him from masturbating.

As the suds from the shampoo dribbled off, they revealed the thickest cock Sean had ever seen anywhere. It was more than double his original size and at least a third longer than it had been. It was a monster, a behemoth, a leviathan. The edges were rock hard, but as his thumb strummed the top of his meat, the center felt softer and spongier. Sean wasn't sure what was going on. He tried to spread his fingers out to get a better grip, only to realize that his fingers were a bit stiff - or rather, they were a bit connected. The flesh that connected his fingers to his palms had gotten inflamed, swelling outward and creating a web-like connection. His hand was looking a little more like a flipper or a fin.

"Fuck!" Sean cursed again,this time in confusion as he turned around. The move was swift enough to throw him off balance and knock into the tiny shelf holding the shampoo. The nearly empty bottle toppled over, spilling the last of the suds onto Sean's long blond hair. The water hit it and the gel erupted into thick waves of foam that came coursing down the surfer's face. He winced and hissed as his eyes stung, then his nose, then his lips. His nostrils flared as his nose began to go wider. His jaw clicked and popped, his face aching and burning. His big inky black eyes burned as he turned back into the water to try and rinse the soap out of them.

The stream of shower water cascaded across his open, panting maw as his teeth grew soft, stretching taller and thicker and sharper before hardening again - but the water didn't taste right. It was tart, tangy, and just not... salty enough. His gums reddened and got puffy, irritated by an unseen force until they started to draw back, making room for dozens of tiny sharp spikes to break through and broaden, forming into a second row of fangs just behind the first. The dull ache in Sean's mouth had reached a full boil as his jaw, his nose and his cheeks broadened. His boyish face was stretching wider, no longer looking quite so human.

Sean slapped one webbed hand onto the shower wall, his other somehow unable to let go of his massive cock. It was as if his life depended on him finishing. He panted, dribbling more soap down from his wider chin, watching as his hand worked that massive cock. The spongy, soft tissue along the upper and lower center began to contrast and shrink, creating a groove. As the groove sunk deeper from the top, it rose from the bottom. Sean wanted to stop, to call for help, to freeze in place, but his muscles compelled him to keep going, to jack himself off, to keep working the flesh until, at last, it split.

What had been one incredibly thick cock had divided, splitting down the middle, fanning out into two robust and equally impressive shafts. They stretched out well past where his original had and had taken on a strange color. Where excess blood had made parts of his cock purple before, they now appeared to be a grayish hue. Likewise, his webbed hands were pale on the palms and gray on the backs. His freckles were grey, his chest looked pale, his balls were practically white, and his feet... his amazing, marvelous, model worthy feet... were grey. He wiggled elongated toes to see the webbing between them.

Panic faded slightly as confusion became dominant. Sean moved to take a step but as he did, he felt awkward, as if he'd lost his center of gravity. He doubled over, grunting, feeling how much heavier his ass was - or rather, how heavy the lump up above it was. Sean turned around to try and chase the mass, only to have it hit the stainless steel partition. Stars appeared before his eyes as he grew dizzy and nearly blacked out. The impact, though, was enough to get the flesh to tear away from the distended skin that was trying to keep it in. What had been a sudden growth unfurled into a sloped, curved extension draping over his ass.

After nearly blacking out, Sean finally let go of his cocks and just leaned against the wall with both webbed hands. He panted hard, his tongue slipping over twin rows of dagger-like teeth. Despite standing in a shower all that time, the air felt dry, almost suffocating. It wasn't until he put his back towards the shower head that he got any relief. The growing mass that was looking more like a tail by the second felt better in the cold water, and the stinging on his neck suddenly felt better. While the line of flesh leading down from his golden hair to his supple spine had grown darker, it was the reddened flesh on either side of his neck that seemed to be shifting the most. The red faded to gray as tiny ivory lines bisected his rubbery skin. The lines grew brighter and more distinct until a wet tearing sound came. New gills fanned open, fluttering as the shower water hit them and coarse over the meaty, feathered flesh inside.

Sean gasped as if he'd just resurfaced and taken his first breath. Pain and stiffness and tingling and burning faded. His solid black eyes blinked slowly as he looked down, seeing the last soap suds spiral down the drain from the empty bottle of Shark Shampoo. He looked at the plastic container, at the sun faded label, at his webbed feet, his twin cocks, his gray skin, then at the blurry, uncertain reflection in the stainless steel partition. It wasn't enough.

Wet slapping sounds came as the surfer's webbed fin-like feet padded out from the shower, though he waddled given that his wet-suit was still mired around his ankles. He moved toward the sinks at the far side, looking up at the ancient, partially peeled mirrors of the rest stop. His webbed hand lifted up, tracing the outline of his jaw. His face was almost twenty percent wider, making his wide nose and wider smile seem animal like. His black eyes were inhuman and his ears... Did he still have ears? Sean reached up, trying to reach through his mane of blond hair. At least he still had his hair... but no ears.

Sean tried to snap. While he couldn't quite accomplish that, he heard the sound of flesh rubbing on flesh. He could still hear. Sean reached the mirror and leaned on the sink basin, opening his jaw. It seemed to practically dislocate, opening many times its original size as he showed off his fangs. He was relieved that his tongue seemed tough enough to survive what would have easily made mincemeat out of anything else. He turned one way, surprised by how far forward his mouth and nose were. On the side profile it was as if he had a muzzle of some sort.

It took several moments to come to grips with how much he'd changed in a short amount of time. Thankfully no one else had come in to see what kind of a monster he'd become, but that luck wouldn't hold out forever, let alone until closing. Sean swallowed, something that took far more effort with his bigger mouth. He had to get back to the water line, but everyone out there would see him. It was the brightest, hottest day of the year so far... but he still had his wet-suit. His feet looked like swim fins, his hands weren't too strange. It'd cover up his bulge, he just had to try. The tricky part would be his tail, or at least as much of it as had grown in so far. Sean looked around before he spotted the ragged, rusty edge of one of the toilet stall doors. He grabbed his wet-suit and moved over, purpose deep in his dark, black eyes.

****

Bubbles rushed up around Sean as he dropped into the water, trying to get as deep as he could manage. The body of water he had jumped into, however, was not the ocean. The surfer had taken the much shorter walk across the scalding hot parking lot, climbed over the safety fence and had jumped into the short river that connected an inland lake to the beach. His sudden impact had kicked up silt all around him that made him want to cough, or at least whatever gills did when they got sand in them. That being said, the water felt so refreshing on his skin.

For a long moment, Sean rested. His blond hair swept ahead of him in the current of the river and the cloud of silt filtered out until it was clear again. His arms and legs bobbed and floated and his growing tail stuck out from the back of his swimsuit. The pressure between his shoulders seemed to be a warning sign that yet another fin was trying to develop. He didn't have much time. The former surfer took a deep breath and then pushed down to the bottom of the shallow river. He began to kick his legs, his webbed feet propelling him forward. He used his hands to grab onto rocks and sunken driftwood, trying to stay under the surface. He slunk down the river, his dark black eyes peering ahead of him.

Coming around the curve of the river, the water started to get shallower and shallower. The edges of the riverbed eroded away into an ever shifting serpent cutting through the sand. Sean was well aware he'd likely have to crawl like a salamander soon. The water fanned out and was shallow enough that even toddlers could usually manage getting across without danger. Sean picked up speed, kicking his feet, wagging his tail as it slipped down further along his legs.

Sean's widened nostrils flared underwater as he tasted a thousand new scents and flavors. He could taste sweat and flesh, he could taste starfish and seaweed, he could taste soap and oil, but most of all he could taste salt. It tasted like home, like love, like safety. He pushed on, fully aware that his shoulders were rising out of the surf. His gills clamped shut and he took a breath full of air as he scrambled down the sand, crossing the shallow water. He didn't look around, he didn't look back.

Somewhere along the shore someone exclaimed in confusion, another saying 'cool'. Maybe they thought he was wearing a specialized wet-suit, maybe they thought he was the creature from the black lagoon. He didn't care. Sean stumbled a little before he pushed himself upright, breaking into the best run he could manage. The roar of the ocean was so loud and so welcoming. The waves crashed and broke, rushing in around him. I felt almost as if a lover was trying to push him away, to hold him back, but as the wave began to retreat, it eroded the sand beneath his fins, pulling him toward the surf. Sean was only too happy to oblige.

He splashed as he jogged deeper and deeper, feeling the water climb up to his ankle, then his knee, then his waist. As a human the cold water hitting his groin would have been a shock, but this time it felt like a relief. He waded another foot, then two, then three. The water climbed up high enough to hide his tail, splashing around his neck when the waves broke before dropping down to his navel. It was only in that moment that Sean dared to turn, to look back at shore.

There were one or two people looking in his direction, maybe the only ones that had seen a silhouette emerge from the river with too many appendages. Most were basking in the sun, celebrating the warm embrace of summer. Far up on the beach, up a few cement steps, resting against a beige cinder block building with a brown metal roof was his surfboard. How long would it stay there? Surely on the second day someone would take it, wanting to give it a good home. Maybe the coast guard would come out and perform a search, the news might report a local legend that must have been swept out to sea. They'd look for him for a time, maybe even put out posters, but then his name would fade into obscurity as a local legend of another young man that lost his life to the sea... But he hadn't lost his life.

Sean floated there for a long moment until his dark black eyes squeezed shut. He groaned as his tail wriggled and fattened, thickening as it stretched out behind him. The rubbery, meaty flesh dropped down lower and lower until it reached the back of his feet. The pressure in his wet-suit had been increasing steadily as a lump pushed out from his shoulder blades as well. It seemed that it was finally as good of a time as any. Sean unzipped his wet-suit and tugged it open, revealing his pale white chest with grey nipples, shrugging it off his grey shoulders, revealing the dorsal fin pressing outward from between his shoulder blades.

As the newly minted shark wriggled the wet-suit down, he grabbed onto the tear he'd made to make room for his tail. He'd been careful to leave an extra gap so he could tear it free when he got out to sea. He tugged, yanked, split and then shook the suit free. He dipped back into the water in a half sort of somersault, yanking it off. The legs reluctantly popped over his fin like feet before it was tugged away by the ebb and flow of the surf. Sean had sunk down a few feet while disrobing, only to realize his gills worked perfectly well. Sean turned, watching his swimsuit float back towards the beach. Maybe someone would find it, think he got eaten by a shark. Maybe his local legend would be even more memorable.

Sean wasn't sure how long he remained there, just a few yards out from the beach. He watched the young men and women frolicking, the older and younger people relishing the sun. He'd been just like them, like all of them, but the sea had called out to him. He'd never felt more alive than when he'd been riding the waves. Perhaps now he could feel just as alive underneath them. To do that, though, he was going to need to find a way to stay alive, and for any being, that meant finding food... Sean let out a sigh that escaped his fang filled mouth as a series of bubbles as he wistfully dreamed of having one last cheeseburger before he turned toward the open ocean, gave a flick of his tail, and began paddling out into deeper water.

****

Gradually, little by little, the amount of light that filtered down through the water was decreasing. Sean had no doubt that the sun was setting and painting the sky with beautiful shades of purple and orange and red and pink. The beach would look as if it was made of gold, then silver, then ash. The scorching heat would escape with no cloud cover to trap it inside and a chill would wash across the sand. The only thing that seemed more fluid than Sean's grasp of time had to be his attention span, although that felt a bit better after he'd had something to eat.

Sean was picking at his double row of fangs, trying to get the fish bones out from between two when he slowed to a stop. He smelled something... something familiar. It smelled like copper, like leather, like manliness, like the Shark Shampoo had. Sean's nostrils flared and his black eyes went wide. He gave a sweep of his arms to bring his torso down flat before his legs and tail flicked hard. His dorsal fin kept him angled as he picked up speed, adding his arms to the mix. Sean cut through the water faster than any surfboard, any swimmer, practically any creature. The sandy shelf dropped away beneath him as he hunted, following the scent.

The aroma was infuriatingly close and yet so far away. Sean swam and swam, putting his new tail to good use, but it felt like he was traveling miles. How could he smell at such a distance? But then again, he was at least part shark now. The sensation of following his sharpened senses was exhilarating, at least until they became confounded. The smell split apart into two. Sean swam to his left, then his right, picking it up in two trails before they started coming back together again. Was it the current? Why would it have formed two trails instead of diffusing the smell into a fine cloud lost to the tide? But just as strangely as they had split, they came together again. At least when the aroma was unified, it was easier to follow.

Sean felt himself rising toward the surface. He felt the silky embrace of a piece of seaweed. He smelled the briny, marshy scent of tide pools somewhere nearby and he smelled the scent he'd been following all this time - the scent of the Shark Shampoo. The former surfer gave a powerful kick with his legs and a flick of his tail. He sailed upwards at incredible speed before breaching the surface, rising up before splashing down. He shook his hair out of his face and looked up at two incredibly startled, oddly identical faces - faces that shared a great deal in common with his own modified image.

Four inky solid black eyes looked back and two fang filled mouths hung open in shock. Pale flesh covered supple, fit masculine chests and attractive bare shoulders were shrouded in greyish hues with just a hint of purple. While Sean had retained his wavy mane of long blond hair, however, the two creatures before him had bluish-black hair. They blinked, looking at the surfer that had shot up out of the water and flopped right in front of them. For a long moment nothing was said. The tree bobbed up and down on the gentle waves, backlit by a moon that seemed far too large from its position near the horizon.

"He's like us..." One of the two said.

"He's bigger than us." The other said, his voice barely indistinguishable from the first.

"That smell, is it Shark Shampoo?" Sean asked after a moment. While he hadn't guessed their fang filled jaws could have hung open any wider, they did look even more surprised.

"You know about Shark Shampoo? The sea witch said she was the only one that could make it..." The first twin said before looking at his brother. The second twin, however, had started to swim closer to Sean, reaching out. He reached a webbed hand to rest on his cheek, giving a strange half grin.

"You're so warm." he whispered. Sean shivered a bit as his leg brushed the other's. They looked like they were eighteen or nineteen and like they would have aced gym class, or at least swim class.

"Have you ever been to Dagger Point?" Sean asked. The brothers looked at each other for a moment before looking back.

"That's the name of the town where we came ashore, where we explored... until someone lost the bottle" he said. His brother shot him a dirty look.

"I didn't lose it, Nereus. I think the sea witch enchanted it so I couldn't find it." he pouted. Sean hadn't thought it possible to roll solid black eyes, but Nereus clearly did.

"If that's the case, how does he know about it, Palae?" Nereus asked. The apparently less dominant twin turned back to face Sean.

"Were you born a shark, like us?" he asked. Sean shook his head.

"No, I was born a man. I found the Shark Shampoo in the bathroom on a shelf and I... uh, used it." he said softly. Nereus seemed thoughtful.

"To walk where one did swim, to reach with hand not fin, to jump the jetty to worlds unseen and live the life between." he murmured, "But for you it worked the other direction, made you like us..."

"Made you handsome." Palae grinned brightly. Sean blushed, or at least he felt like he had. He wasn't sure if his pale cheeks changed color. Palae swam up closer until their chests brushed. Sean gasped deeper as he felt his still hard, still full cocks brushing up against two more thick, rubbery lengths. Palae grinned and leaned in, nuzzling Sean's neck before giving him a nip. Sean groaned, shuddering as he started to hump and grind. Palae grinned wider, returning the favor until he yelped, bumped as Nereus swam over and wedged himself in, snarling a bit and nipping at his brother.

"Boys, boys... There's enough of me to go around..." Sean said, feeling flushed and horny. Nereus looked back at the surfer, a little hesitant and hopeful at the same time.

"You wouldn't mind... having us both?" he asked. Sean grinned a little more.

"Mind? I'd be honored... It's a lofty goal among my kind to have more than one lover." Sean said, wrapping one arm around Nereus and one around Palae, pulling them closer.

"We're your kind now." Palae whispered, running a webbed hand down Sean's chest.

"The witch trapped us like this, but it doesn't seem like such a punishment with you here." Nereus said, "Your hair is amazing." he added, leaning in, giving it a deep sniff before he sighed, resting his head on Sean's shoulder before he kissed and then nibbled it. Sean groaned, rubbing the sharkman's shoulder.

"Is there anything I need to know? Any rules about our new life?" Sean asked, feeling like an idiot for bringing that up when they were so close and intimate at that moment. Palae considered.

"We eat when we're hungry, sleep when we're tired. Most of the humans don't seem to be able to see us most of the time unless we get too close to shore." he explained.

"And we're very, very happy to meet you." Nereus said, looking up into Sean's eyes before he kicked his feet a bit, bobbing up higher to bring their lips together. Sean moaned as their wide, broad shark mouths met and their tongues began to tangle. Palae seemed a little offended at being left out until he realized that it left the rest of their new friend to himself. He pushed up and then let his weight take him down. Disappearing beneath the surface, he nuzzled up and drew his shark muzzle down along the surfer's fit stomach until he opened his jaw wide, gave a flick of his tail, and swam in.

Sean broke the kiss with a groan as his cocks were engulfed in a dangerous, risky, most delectable embrace. He felt the sharp teeth graze the surface with such care and delicacy, the tongue lapping at his twin fishing poles. He groaned, eyes squeezing shut. Nereus grunted in jealousy before he dropped down beneath the surface. Sean grunted and murmured as the twins fought over him until they compromised, each taking one of his hemipenis into their maws. Sean slowly reclined back onto the surf like an otter, forcing Nereus and Palae up to suckle and milk his meat. He groaned, reaching down with webbed hands, putting one on each of their heads, tangling the webbed digits in their bluish black hair.

The twins hungrily bobbed their heads up and down, their maws enveloping his sharkhoods so completely. He let out a long and delighted moan before he felt the pressure build and build until he finally erupted. The twins gobbled down his seed greedily, gulping at it like chum in the water. Sean came and came, feeding them all the shark soup he had to offer. He'd always heard the saying that sharks had to keep swimming or they would die, but now he knew he'd die without these two beautiful, hungry souls to love and lust after, to feed and to cuddle. Whatever fate the sea witch had cursed them with was a blessing to him and he was going to cherish every moment.