Pre-dawn, the sea greets my nude body. I slide through oil-glass water, out to where the swell begins.

My lover rises, his sleek shape, his twist and grace. We greet with such light touch, craving without haste. I'm ripe, fertile, salty. He's huge with need. My lips engorge.

He enters me, so deep. Stretched wide, and wider, I gasp, enfold him. The swell rocks us, slowest of motions, longest of pleasures, until I cry and spasm and he spills into my ecstatic flesh. I overflow.

His seed will quicken me. In nine months I'll return. Our child will be sea-born.