Her scales shimmer like she’s preening from my compliments.
“Do you have orgasms?”
“We have many organisms.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then explain.”
Umm, describe the mythical orgasm that until I met the Stirlings, I thought was a lie made up by men to lure maidens into their beds?
Frank slows down to swim beside us. I cast a glance at him. His lips twitch as he waits for my version of what an orgasm is. My guide, it seems, draws the line at helping me communicate sexy time with sea creatures. How hard can it be?
“So, when a male wants to get a female pregnant, he needs to put his seed inside her.” On the wordseed,I throw up a little in my mouth and quickly swallow it to avoid bits of vomit floating off into the water. Pretty sure that would constitute a faux pax.
“His sperm,” Linda corrects.
Is that better?
“Yes, that. In order to get that to come out, he needs to get excited and release it inside of the woman.”
“How does it get inside of her?”
I blink. “Well, he has a long sausage that it shoots out of. He puts that inside of her until he releases.”
“How long does that take?”
“If you are Hansel, less than tempo. But I have it on good authority that in experienced hands, it can last much longer.”
A shiver runs down Linda’s back.
“That sounds awful.” Frank shakes his head and chuckles.
“The point is, the release is called an orgasm. It’s the most wonderful, awesome, tingling sensation.”
“I thought you were female? All Ladies of the Lake must be female.”
“Females also orgasm.”
“For what purpose?”
I open my mouth, close it, and tilt my head as I try to uncover a good reason. “The males make us orgasm to convince us to let them stick their sausage inside of us.”
“I still believe my evolutionary child bearing is superior.”
“But you’ve never had an orgasm, so you can’t compare.”
“And you have never impregnated anyone.”
Fair point.
The water grows warmer as we ride for at least half a turn. Towering stone pillars come into view, and a stunning underwater palace that puts all the Hallowed castles to shame appears. They would weep tiny castle tears of inferiority if they saw this monster. Charming would throw a fit.
“Welcome to Atlantis,” Frank says.
Wow. They have a name for this thing of beauty? It should be named and immortalized in every history book in existence. I thought everyone under the sea laid on the floor and covered themselves in blankets of seaweed. My bad.
The water pulses with an invisible hypnotic beat, lulling us deeper into the crevices. The merfolk aren’t shy in their appraisal of me, with mumblings about the new Lady of the Lake reaching my ears. I stare at them in return. They are the blessed equivalent of the Hallowed, all so beautiful and shiny. That cannot be unicorn horn. Surely it would wash off? They might have something similar. Glittery squid ink or ground precious pearls.
