textfiles/sex/EROTICA/D/diving.txt

Sandy is a gorgeous woman.  At 38 she looked better than most women at 21.  
It is always difficult to fit into my wetsuit while watching her force 
herself into hers.  Sandy liked to wear a bikini under her custom fitted 
wetsuit.  As she bent over to pull the 8mm farmer john on, I enjoyed 
watching the bottom of her swim suit ride up her smooth, supple ass.  It is 
always a struggle for her to get into her suit.  The fit was about as tight 
as it could be, without restricting blood flow.

First the right leg.  She would pull the rubber over her foot and then snug 
it up around her leg.  Then the left leg.  Gently tugging at the neoprene to 
force it up over her calves.  Finally, she would roll the rest of the suit 
up and over her chest.  The rubber would squeeze her tits up hard and her 
nipples could be clearly seen, even under the neoprene.  Once the farmer 
john's were on, Sandy could relax, since the vest would not go on until we 
were ready to enter the water.

We were at Monastery Beach in Carmel.  It is an unusually warm day for 
Carmel.  Generally, the weather is as cold as the water (52 degrees), but 
never anything that a good, thick, wetsuit cannot protect you from.  We have 
no boat, so we must enter from the beach.

Sandy's face is starting to get flushed from the pressure of her tight suit. 
 Maybe it is too tight, but it follows the contours of her body precisely.  
The black rubber is accented by her long blonde hair and her light, soft skin.

"Well, let's get going" I say to her.  "Are you sure that we should be doing 
this?" she asks nervously.  "Absolutely.  You trust me don't you?"

With that we put on our jackets.  Sandy slides her leg into the right leg 
hole of her jacket, and then pushes her arms into the suit.  She flexes her 
arms forward, much like a body builder would, in order to get the air 
pockets out of her back.  She reaches down to the left and joins the zipper 
around the thigh of her left leg and begins to zip it up.  She stops just 
below her breasts.

She reaches down and picks up her hood.  "I hate pulling this on", she says 
"It always pulls my hair out".  She grabs the collar and works the hood over 
her head.  Her face puffs up and is deep red.  "This is really tight".

She zips the rest of her jacket up and puts on her weight belt.  "Can you 
help me with my tank?" she pleads with me.  "Remember our agreement!" I 
retort.  She picks up her bc and slides it onto her back.

I think back to last night when she was in charge.  She loves to make me 
wimper and plead in bed.  Tie me, whip me, I love it.  We had agreed that 
she would be the bottom today, when we go down.  It was my turn and she knew 
I would not be easy.

We had agreed on a "safe signal" for this dangerous game.  Three knocks on 
the side of the tank with the "clacker" ball.  This meant that one hand must 
be free at all times.  Retraint would be a challenge.

"Are you ready?" I ask her.  "Yes, Master".  I carefully check the valve on 
her tank and her pressure gauge.  "3000 psi, looks good" I respond.  "Get on 
your hands and knees, and crawl..."

She drops down on all fours and slowly starts to back down into the water in 
a revers crawl.  The waves are small, and she could easily walk in, but I 
make her crawl.  I walk along side her, a little ahead of her.  I see her 
tight ass under her rubber suit and visualize it earlier when she was 
climbing into the wetsuit.  My cock is rock hard, but the cold water will 
soon change that.

The first shot of cold water down your back is always the worst.  This is 
the water that will later keep you warm, but when you first get in it is 
cold.  I can see that Sandy has already endured the first shock of cold.

We inflate our bc's and start a surface swim out to the kelp beds.  Not too 
far, but far enough to make you pant.

When we reach our dive spot, in about 60 feet of water, we start our decent. 
 Regulators in our mouths will prevent verbal communications.  Movement is 
slow and deliberate.  Mistakes could be deadly.

At 62 feet, we hit the bottom.  We adjust our bc's so that we are neutrally 
buoyant and don't drag on the bottom.

Now the fun begins...

From the pocket of my bc I extract a pair of handcuffs.  The key is attached 
to my vest with a spare pinned inside my vest pocket.  A eye hook is 
cemented to the ocean floor with a buoy on a line attached.  I grab Sandy's 
left hand and cuff her to the eye.  I can see now that there is more fear in 
her face than ever before.

From my pocket I now extract some 1/4 inch line which I use to bind her feet 
together.  Once securely bound, I reach down and inflate her BC.  She drifts 
upward until her left arm is fully extended and there is good positive 
pressure being exerted on her.

I reach over and grab the zipper on her jacket.  It is difficult to get a 
good grip on under water, but I manage to have it well in hand.  Sandy 
starts to squirm in fear.  If I pull the zipper down, even a little, a flood 
of cold water will enter her wetsuit, making her extremely uncomforatable.  
I yank and tug at the zipper, but release it before she is treated to the 
cold water.

Instead, I reach down to my leg and remove my knife from it's holster.  I 
carefully spread Sandy's legs apart and begin to make a small incision in 
the croch of her jacket and then through to her farmer john.  I stop when I 
think that there is still a few centimeters of neoprene left between the 
blade and her lovely cunt.

Once again, I reach into my bc pocket and remove a specially modified 10" 
vibrator.  I used some "O" rings to seal the base where the batteries are 
stored, from water infiltration.  Slowly with mild pressure, I press the 
vibrator into the small incision that I made in Sandy's suit.  The pressure 
is not enough to puncture through the remaining rubber, so I press harder.  
I feel the rubber rip.  Before I can release the pressure that I am 
applying, the vibrator plunges deep into Sandy's surprisingly wet pussy.  I 
look down at her face and see some sense of relief that I did not ram hard 
enough to puncture her internal organs.

Now I try turning on the switch, and to my surprise, I can feel it start to 
vibrate.  I leave it deep inside her.  

15 minutes have passed and I check both our air.  2100 lbs...looks ok.  But 
I think that Sandy needs to save her air.  I indicate to her that I am going 
to turn off her tank valve.  She shakes her head...no, but also no safe 
signal.  Did she forget what it was?  I proceed.

Sandy drops her regulator from her mouth and starts to open and close her 
mouth as if gasping for air.  I reach over to my octopus (second regulator) 
and wave it in front of her face.  She reaches out with her right hand and 
tries to grab it, but I pull it away from her.  As soon as her hand is away 
from the octopus, I place it into her mouth and she takes a deep, hard 
breath.  The vibrator is still buzzing away.

Before she can get too comfortable, I remove the octopus from her mouth.  I 
also reach down and pull the vibrator out of her.  Once more I reach into my 
bc pocket and extract the last two items I brought with me, a banana and a 
bag of peas.  Its time to feed the fish.  And there just happens to be a 
school of perch nearby.  

I release the peas into the water and the fish come swimming over.  Boy are 
they hungry!  In my excitement about the fish, I realize that Sandy has not 
had any air in some time.  I place the octopus back into her mouth.  Now, I 
peel the banana and break off a small piece. I smash the piece and release 
it into the water.  The fish readily gulp it down.  The remainder of the 
banana I plunge into Sandy's rip.  More peas and the fish draw nearer.  
Finally, a larger perch moves in and darts at the banana and takes a small 
nibble.  More peas...more fish...a feeding frenzy.  Sandy squeezes the 
banana with her pussy and more of it slips out into the water.  The fish are 
pecking at her and she is squirming in pleasure with each bite.

I note that the pressure in my tank has reached 1200 lbs and it is time to 
release Sandy from her watery restraints.  I deflate her bc and ease her 
back to neutral buoyancy.  I unlock her cuffs and she unties her feet.  I 
turn her air back on.

We swim towards shore and finish the dive on the beach.  Once on the beach, 
Sandy helps me out of my equipment and I help her out of hers.  Before I can 
get out of my wetsuit, she is on top of me with her dive knife out.  
Methodically, she cuts through the neoprene to my stiff cock, which is 
easily identifiable.  She whips it out and rams it into her rip.  We lie on 
the beach, Sandy riding me up and down.  Deep and hard.  The neoprene 
rubbing my cock for it's entire length on each stroke.  I cum deep in her 
and leak out into her wetsuit.  Sandy whispers to me "You know how I am 
going to rinse the sand out of my suit?  I am going to piss."  With that she 
gets up on her knees and places her rip directly over my face.  I open my 
mouth and small drips of her golden passion leak through the rubber and into 
my mouth.  It tastes like nectar.

She lowers her rip down onto my face, straddling my head with her legs.  
"Open my tear with your tongue and drink my piss you fucker."  I lash out 
with my tongue at the incision that I made and pry it open.  Just as I feel 
the familiar sensation of her pubic hair on my tongue, a gush of salt water 
and piss floods into my open mouth.  My cock, which is still popping through 
the cut of my suit, is throbbing and still unbelievable hard.  Sandy 
finishes me off by mounting me one last time.

No decompression sickness, no bends, no aneurysm, just submission and pleasure.