Out for a nude swim in the calm night water, Bill had no trouble turning around, floating, facing the beach, and looking from one house to the next above the stand. His own was easy to spot: all the deck lights on, it was bigger than the others, just a little higher. He remembered the cliff he had slept on at the age of sixteen, not ten miles from here, on a cross-country hitchhiking trip with his best high school friend Erik, as they reached their dream of the California coast; now Bill had fulfilled the second dream, the one that had started that night, through possessing some of the most coveted real estate in the world. A number of years in Silicon Valley, finishing in comfortable apartments in San Francisco, overseeing the design of software packages that were pounced on by corporations before their completion, had carried him here. Now he had crossed the Golden Gate, his company ran on its own momentum, and he could live the rest of his life: take the time to get to know people here and in the City, find a dream woman who was not employed by an escort service, make a home for himself in this majestic environment.

Bill swam further, the houses shrinking behind him. The pleasure offered by the water on his flesh was immense: it flowed over his hard muscles, which he had gained by paying for the best equipment and trainers in the Bay Area -- exertion without fatigue. The foam ran along his crotch, his dick wriggled happily in it, it soothed his balls and trickled in the crack of his ass. As he was looking up at the stars a wave unexpectedly washed over him -- he coughed a little and caught his breath. He decided to go a little further. Without warning there was another wave that required some fighting. Best, he thought, to go back now. Surveying the shore to aim for his palatial home, he was hit by another, a current that brought him straight under. Without quite knowing in the darkness which way was up, without much air in his lungs, he struggled to the surface. Thinking of his living room, the view, a glass of cognac, and the Yardbirds on the sound system comforted him; he put his strength into getting back quickly.

Where were all these waves coming from, all of a sudden? Each one seemed to pick him up and roll him down deep. It was quite unpleasant, especially when he noticed he was not getting closer to the shore. After more and more effort he saw with anxiety that he was actually moving away. An enormous wave carried him far under, and for a moment he felt he couldn't struggle anymore. But he found the extra reserve, eventually got to the surface; just as he breathed in deeply he was pounded, spun around. Frantically he flailed his arms and legs, the strength left in them giving out to the lack of oxygen in his lungs. Panic was growing; cold was penetrating beneath his skin, into his lungs, his shoulders, his thighs; his crotch felt like an icicle. In panic, and pain, and despair, his senses were dimming, dimming in the dark of the ocean -- nothing but chill transmitted throughout his nervous system.

But then there was a very vague sensation, a warmth, appearing to originate in his bones. The cramped muscles were loosened as though by gentle massage, even the frenzy in his lungs was eased. Into the roots of his hair, the water around him felt warmer, slightly. It injected, bit by bit, the comfort his entire being craved. His limbs were still quite drained; the currents insisted on invigorating them. And sounds came to his ears, as though from very near. He thought he heard words -- crisp, feminine, but unrecognizable, until something rang clear: "_O aner eidos ariste!_" It was classical Greek, but the meaning didn't come to him. Again: "_O aner eidos ariste!_" Something was called up from many years ago: his spontaneous translation faculty repeated the words in his head, "O finest-looking man," uttered by a clear, seductive woman's voice. This faculty was due to his parents having home-schooled him from the age of four, primarily in the subjects of Greek, Latin, French, logic, and mathematics. Although he hadn't spoken to his parents in more than ten years, he had always attributed to this unique background his feat of having completed the entire programming language sequence at the University of Illinois in less than a year. And now the same background was allowing at least passive communication with whatever it was that appeared to be rescuing him.

The lovely, irresistible voice continued, in chanting words he couldn't understand, except for the refrain: "_O aner eidos ariste!_" But a transformation occurred, in his head or in the voice, or somewhere in between: "O beautiful man, finest to look at!" The words didn't exactly become English, but they were more and more understandable. A whole sentence: "How happy you make me, immersing yourself in the ocean where I may take care of you." He tried to speak, but only bubbles came out of his mouth.

The water enveloped him with even more warmth, a soft touching; he could feel in it the same female energy that had so filled the voice, now caressing his weary, grateful flesh. It had some kind of willful mobility and was -- he could feel it -- enjoying his body. He felt small pulses of warm water on his face, especially around his mouth, something passing down his throat, along his spine. It connected with another fluid tentacle that rubbed his ass, found its way between the cheeks, to his anus, probing him there, making its way through his pelvis to his genital nerves, at the same time loosening and relaxing his guts -- he felt his cock at its most erect. There was a wet, enclosing, fondling sensation on his cock, a rhythmical movement, the sensation of pure pleasure spreading all over his skin, into his chest, his knees, his forehead; the strong feminine energy was taking definite shape, holding him, sending liquid breath onto his face, into his ears.

There was first a gentle point, then an expanding, hot, glowing sphere deep in his hips, up into his stomach. His whole body tingled -- and he quickly came, feeling the sperm rush through his wildly hard dick. As he squirted into the water, he had the sensation he was seeding the entire ocean. At the same time the ocean seeded his body, in ways he was not yet ready to face.

The voice again -- quietly, so very close: "O wonderful man, none more beautiful, who have come into the depths where I live, who will be with me and please me." In the darkness a glow took shape before him -- the pale outlines of an arrestingly beautiful face.

Again he tried to talk, and was happy to hear his voice resonate in the depths. "You've -- you've saved me from drowning."

"Yes, lovely man, I have, and you have pleased me. Have you also been pleased?"

"Oh, yeah -- thank you, lovely woman, for all you've done! But who are you?"

The face took form, a shimmering more than something solid, and below it a body, the most gracious shoulders, large, full breasts, a delicate belly. "I am a woman of the ocean who wishes company, and I have found it -- I have found you."

His jaw dropped. In his mind the experience of the last little while was assuming the status of fact. "You're -- some sort of ocean nymph. A Nereid -- kind to men in the ocean." When he finished speaking he took a deep, easy breath.

"If you wish, you may call me that. Or you may simply call me your devoted, caring lover. Do you like it that I am your lover?"

Her body was beginning to take on color in the glow around them: chestnut hair, olive skin, dark brown eyes. He looked down to see the curvature of her hips emerging -- maybe by a trick of the somewhat eerie light, greenish.

"I like it very much. You don't have to worry -- I'll certainly be back. But I hope you'll excuse me: I was swimming, and I got stopped by the current -- but of course you know all that -- and I'd like to finish my swim."

"You're free to move as you please. I hope you find your new agility agreeable."

He was at a loss as to how to say goodbye to -- what was she? -- a goddess. He defaulted to habit: he held her by the shoulders, kissed her hard on the lips, pulled back, said, "See you -- and I mean soon." He turned and swam in what seemed the direction of shore.

The ease with which he moved astounded him: with only slight movements of his arms and legs he sped through the water. Now he noticed the way the ocean, thanks to this wonderful Nereid, had affected his body: his arms and legs were trimmed up and down with finlike growths. Soon he was in the shallows. Approaching the surface, he could see the lights of his house. What an ordeal! The living room awaited him.

Bill raised himself from the water. Something wasn't right. At his first breath there was a muffled bubbling just above his collarbones, and unfamiliar muscles contracted. No air reached his lungs -- and when he brought his hands up to feel the contracted ridges, he realized he no longer had lungs. Quickly he immersed himself, felt the ridges of his gills open, and took in a full breath of water.

The moment he felt the satisfaction of sustenance, he turned in anger. She was floating nearby, with smooth and scintillating flesh -- he felt a sharp distrust of her smile. For the first time he noticed -- or accepted -- that the bottom part of her beautiful woman's body belonged to the fish world, a green, scaly tail.

"What have you done to me?" he shouted. "I have a house and a company and a world -- _you can't do this!_"

She answered sharply: "You're swimming with the fish rather than feeding them." Her tail fins waved slowly. "What is the better choice?"

He shouted: "_What choice was there, when you're the one who tried to drown me in the first place?_"

She gazed at him sternly. He turned and swam as fast as he could.

Behind him he could feel her -- tiny streams running by him, touching him in places and drawing out his affection. And he heard her: "O finest-looking man! Why do you flee from me?"

He slowed, if for no other reason than to look at her unique beauty, that of an astonishing inhuman creature.

"Stay with me. Come to me and take your pleasure." In an instant she was embracing him. The skin of her arms had a strange texture, almost a sliminess, but so warm, so inviting, rippling with the water. And when she pressed her divine, puckered nipples into him, he was left with no feeling but desire and need. He put his hands behind her lithe shoulders, moved them to the small of her back.

Her hand fondled his hard cock; he felt the same viscous flesh, but after a moment was taken to the greatest carnal excitement he'd ever known, as her skin melded with his. He felt her scales, a little stiff but very warm, pulling him to a softness underneath -- as they held each other her tail parted somehow, opening a cleft so deep as to envelop him. Nothing but warm, wet velvetiness on his skin -- his cock pushed deep inside her. Rhythmically her full woman-and-sea-creature body moved against his; he fucked her with all his strength, propelling himself with his large, webbed feet. She held his balls inside her flesh, and something soft crawled into his asshole. Hot pressure built in his pelvis. He held her, pressed his face to hers -- her sighs and trembles set him off. Her body stiffened as he gushed into her, and her flesh pulsated -- along the length of his shaft, around and through his balls, his hips, his buttocks, drawing out all he had.

He floated, somewhat dazed, enlaced in her body. She whispered, "Loveliest, finest man, have I made you happy?"

"You've made me very happy."

"And you have made me happy. Would you please remain happy?"

His hands on her shoulders, he held her at a distance, frowned, trying to formulate a sentence.

She continued: "Happy to swim in the water -- happy to make love to me, to other sea nymphs, and to the uncountable human women who have fallen in the sea and taken a form not unlike my own? I will protect you from their protectors. Happy always to enjoy my love?"

"For how long?" he managed.

"A very long time."

He was suddenly interested by a prospect: "Eternity?"

"For a long time."

And for a time that seemed to have no end, he was happy in the ocean. Other Nereids pleased him in many different ways, and conversation was often as sex with women of the seventeenth century, the slave trade, the Norse conquests, Rome, Greece, Egypt, Phoenicia. And whenever the desire struck him, he fell into the arms of his own Nereid. But every so often, well after he remembered exactly why, Bill returned to a cove in California for a clear view of the sandy shore.