
Secrets Of The Sexy Mermaid – Plunge Into Love And Lust
Awakening in a Strange Place
The first thing she felt was heat. She knew she had to keep the Secrets Of The Sexy Mermaid.
Sunlight poured through a ragged hole in the ceiling, landing like fire across her bare skin. It wasn’t the soft light of the sea surface, filtered and muted by water — this was sharp, blinding, raw. Shu-hui winced, turned her face away, and gasped as her dry lips cracked at the edges.
Everything hurt in ways she didn’t understand.
Her skin felt tight, stiff — like it had shrunk in the sun. Her throat was parched, tongue swollen, and her muscles twitched with strange tension. The smell was different too. Not salt and seaweed. Wood. Dust. Smoke. A hint of dried fish. And something warm… like cooked rice?
She blinked slowly, eyes adjusting to the square-shaped room around her. Slats of bamboo held the walls together, patched with torn cloth. There was a straw mat beneath her, rough against her back, and the floor creaked with every shift of her weight. Her heart began to race.
“Where am I? What happened? What is this place?” Her voice came out in a whisper. It sounded foreign to her — brittle and dry.
She tried to sit up, but pain stabbed through her shoulder. “Ouch, my arm!” she gasped, glancing down. Her left arm was wrapped in rough white bandage, dark with dried blood. It pulsed with a dull ache, but she could move it.
Then… she saw them.
Discovering Her Legs
Legs. Long, pale, and smooth. Two of them.
Her breath caught. She stared in disbelief, her chest tightening, her mind blank.
“I have legs? This can’t be happening!”
She kicked, weakly, and the limbs obeyed. It was terrifying.
Shu-hui shoved the thin sheet aside and tried to crawl from the mat — only to collapse to the wooden floor with a hard thud.
“Ouch!”
The door burst open. A man stepped in.
He moved quickly but calmly — like someone used to emergencies. He was broad in the shoulders, skin tanned and weathered by sun. His arms were strong, veins visible. He wore simple linen trousers, and nothing else. Drops of sweat lined his collarbones and trickled down his chest.
Meeting Cheng-han
“Are you alright?” he asked, stepping forward.
Shu-hui panicked. She curled up, covering herself with the blanket and dragging her new legs underneath her body, limbs awkward and untrained. She pressed herself into the corner of the room, heart pounding, the scent of the man’s body — sea air, smoke, something earthy — filling her nose as he came closer.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said gently.
She clutched the blanket tighter. “How long was I asleep?”
“Three days,” he replied.
Her eyes narrowed. “Where did you find me?”
The man scratched the back of his neck. “That’s quite a story. I found you on the shore at dawn, just before going fishing. You were lucky no one else saw you.”
The thought sent a chill through her. Her mind flashed with memories of crashing waves, pain, a storm maybe… and then nothing.
“What?” she asked, voice shaking.
“But don’t worry,” he said. “You’re safe here. I mended your wound. It looked deep, but it’s just a scratch. You’ll be fine in a few weeks.”
She stared at him — this stranger, this human man. His kindness felt strange. His presence stronger than she expected. Her voice dropped low.
“Thank you for saving me. What is this place?”
Secrets Of The Sexy Mermaid
“This is Hengchun Peninsula, near Kenting town,” Cheng-han said, his voice calm, measured. “A few folks live here, mostly fishermen. I’ve never seen you before. Are you a tourist?”
Shu-hui hesitated, the words thick on her tongue. She didn’t know how much to say—or how much he’d believe.
“Yes, I’m a tourist. I traveled alone.”
He raised an eyebrow, glancing at the blanket she still held around her body. “Do you always travel without clothes?”
She didn’t answer. Her pulse quickened again. Her grip on the blanket tightened.
“That’s okay,” he said gently, stepping back. “You don’t need to tell me anything else. I’ll take you to the local police so your family can find you.”
“No!” she blurted out, the fear punching through her voice. “I can’t leave. It’s dangerous.”
He seemed surprised. “The police will take care of you. They won’t hurt you.”
Coral’s Warning
But Shu-hui’s thoughts spiraled backward—her memory sharp with the image of Coral’s terrified face, tangled in a fishing net, dragged across the rocks by shouting villagers. They had never understood what they were looking at. They saw only a monster. A threat. Shu-hui could still hear the shouts in her head, the confusion, the splashing panic. Coral had never returned.
“I don’t want to go,” Shu-hui said, her voice low but steady now. “I’m staying here.”
Cheng-han looked at her, silent for a few seconds. Then he gave a small nod. “Alright, we’ll figure something out. You can stay for a few more days. Let’s hope nobody notices you.”
She exhaled slowly, the tension easing from her shoulders. “Thank you,” she said.
Settling In
The days that followed were slow and quiet. The salty wind swept in from the sea each morning, stirring the thin curtains. The fisherman’s house was small, made of worn bamboo and stone, and it always smelled faintly of rice, firewood, and ocean.
Shu-hui moved carefully at first. Her legs still felt foreign, but she began learning how to use them. She took short steps across the uneven floor, sometimes steadying herself with a hand on the wall. She cooked simple meals, swept the dust from corners, cleaned the fish he brought home in baskets. She watched him repair nets on the front step with thick, patient fingers.
She was trying to repay his kindness. But something else was growing, too.
Unspoken Glances
Sometimes, when she wasn’t looking directly at him, she could feel his gaze. It lingered—soft but unmistakable—on the curve of her arm, the movement of her legs, the shape beneath her loose cotton dress. Each time she caught him, he quickly looked away, but his face held a flicker of something he didn’t say.
And strangely… she didn’t mind. She wasn’t sure why.
The Spill
It happened on a warm afternoon. The house was quiet, the cicadas buzzing outside like a soft electric hum. She was pouring water into a clay jug when the cup slipped from her hand. The splash was cold and sudden, hitting her chest and soaking through the thin fabric of her shirt.
She inhaled sharply, water trailing down between her breasts. Her skin prickled as the wet fabric clung to her, outlining her body. Without thinking, she stepped away from the kitchen and into the bedroom to change.
The small room was still and shadowed, the smell of her skin and the heat from outside hanging in the air. She peeled her shirt away slowly, sticky from the water. Droplets ran along her stomach as she reached back to unhook her underclothes.
She didn’t hear the door open.
The Gaze
Cheng-han stood there in silence. He had just returned, arms slightly dusty from the road, a tin of gas still swinging from his hand. But now it hung forgotten at his side. His eyes were wide—drawn not just to her bare skin, but to her whole body, as if seeing her for the first time.
It wasn’t lust that hit him first. It was awe. A quiet reverence that held him still.
She didn’t scream. She didn’t cover herself immediately. For a moment, she simply turned slightly, her back straightening, her eyes lifting to meet his.
“I have never seen him look at me like that before,” she thought, breath catching. Her pulse fluttered. Her cheeks burned—but not with shame. It was something sharper. Something hotter.
She reached for a dry dress, her movements slower than usual, aware of his gaze. The air between them felt charged, like a thread pulled tight between two points.
Pulling Back
He blinked, took a breath, and seemed to remember himself.
“What’s wrong with me? I better leave,” he muttered under his breath, though his legs took one more second than they should have to move.
He turned and stepped away, the door clicking shut behind him.
Shu-hui stood there for a long moment, heart pounding, skin still damp.
She hadn’t expected him to see her like that. But what surprised her more was how it made her feel.
Not violated. Not afraid.
Excited.
Like something inside her had been stirred—and wasn’t quite ready to settle.
Cheng-han’s Confession
Cheng-han stepped into the room slowly, one foot then the other, his body hesitant but drawn forward like a man pulled by tide. His voice was low, rough in his throat.
“I’ve never seen such a beautiful woman before, Shu-hui,” he whispered.
She stood still, unsure whether to run or reach for him. Her heart beat louder than the wind brushing the bamboo walls. His eyes didn’t leave hers as he approached, and when he reached out, his fingertips touched her shoulders so gently it almost felt like air. His hands moved down her slender arms, warm and careful, until he held her smaller hands in his.
He raised them to his mouth and kissed each one slowly, like something precious. His lips were soft. His breath warm. Her skin prickled under his touch.
“You have no idea what I want to do with you right now. But I won’t unless you want me to,” he said, voice cracking ever so slightly.
He took a clean towel from the rack and wrapped it around her, closing it over her chest. His palm rested briefly against her collarbone. Then, without looking down, he leaned in and kissed her on the forehead.
“I’ll see you later, okay?” he murmured, turning to leave.
But Shu-hui didn’t want him to go. Something in her body moved before her mind could catch up. She reached for his arm, tugged him gently, and kissed him — a light touch of lips, soft but full of feeling.
Sleepless Thoughts
That night, sleep didn’t come. The bed felt too large. The roof creaked with wind, but her thoughts were louder. She tossed beneath the blanket, Cheng-han’s kiss still burning on her lips. His scent lingered faintly on the towel — clean sea salt and firewood smoke.
She stepped outside barefoot, the air cool against her skin. The moon was high, spilling silver across the shore. Waves licked the sand with slow, rhythmic sighs. Her feet sank into the wet edge of the surf, the cold making her gasp lightly. She walked the beach with her arms around her chest, not for modesty but to contain the ache in her heart.
Memories surfaced — not thoughts, but flashes. Water spinning above her. Coral’s laughter echoing. The deep pull of the ocean floor. Her voice trembled as she spoke to the sea.
“I don’t think I want to go back. I don’t want to leave Cheng-han.”
Dawn’s Pull
The horizon began to glow, soft amber behind the cliffs. Shu-hui waited on the sand, hair damp from mist, her feet half-buried. She saw the silhouette of a boat growing clearer on the waves.
It was Cheng-han.
He saw her and his breath caught. He secured the boat quickly, almost clumsily, and ran toward her, chest heaving from more than exertion.
“Hi,” he said, blinking hard. “What are you doing up?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I was waiting for you.”
He took her hands, kissed them again, then held them to his cheek. His skin was warm despite the morning air.
“You were? Why so early?”
A Growing Connection
“I can’t stop thinking about what happened earlier. About you,” she confessed, her voice barely above the sound of the tide.
He swallowed, stepped closer.
“Come on, let’s get back inside,” he suggested, looking toward the house.
“No,” she whispered. She pulled him into a kiss.
This one wasn’t gentle. It was hungry, trembling. His hands moved to her waist, then her back, pulling her against him. Her body molded to his like they’d done this before in another life.
She moaned softly as the kiss deepened, the world narrowing to the space between their mouths.
Overwhelmed by the heat in her belly, the ache in her chest, Shu-hui let her hands wander beneath his shirt, feeling the solid muscle of his back. He responded without words, lifting her easily into his arms. She gasped as her legs wrapped around him.
He carried her a few steps down the beach, just behind a rock outcropping where the sand was soft and the sea whispered secrets. The light was pale, shadows long.
Passion on the Beach
He kissed her neck, slow and reverent, his lips trailing along her throat, down to the dip between her breasts. He knelt before her like a man in prayer, his strong hands sliding under her shirt, fingers trembling as they discovered the weight of her breasts.
Her nipples were already hard, her skin warm. He bent forward, mouth hungry, and sucked gently at first, then deeper. Her fingers tangled in his hair as a moan escaped her lips.
She arched her back, the wetness between her thighs now undeniable.
Cheng-han pulled off his shirt, the muscles of his chest catching the light. He unzipped his pants, his erection already full and twitching with urgency. Shu-hui slipped off her lingerie but left her skirt and shirt on — a small layer in case someone passed by.
He eased her down onto the sand. She shivered — not from cold, but anticipation. He moved beneath her skirt, his breath hot against her inner thighs.
She gasped when his tongue made contact, slow strokes that built pressure like a tide swelling. Her hips lifted to meet his mouth. Her hands gripped his hair. He licked her carefully, then harder, finding her rhythm, bringing her to the edge.
He didn’t stop until her legs shook and her voice cracked with pleasure.
Then he crawled up over her, his mouth wet with her. His hand held himself against her soaked entrance.
“Are you ready?” he asked, voice thick with need.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I am.”
He pushed inside her slowly, letting her stretch around him. She cried out softly — the stretch painful but right. As he moved, the pain faded, replaced by wave after wave of pleasure. She held on to him tightly, her hands digging into his back.
He thrust faster, deeper, and her moans matched his rhythm.
They climaxed together, mouths open, bodies trembling. He collapsed beside her, breathless.
A Confession
The sea curled toward them in small foamy ripples. Above, the moon was fading into morning light. They lay tangled in the sand, limbs heavy, hearts open.
“I have something to tell you, Cheng-han,” Shu-hui said, her voice calm now.
He turned his head, brushing a finger along her cheek. “What is it?”
“I’m a mermaid. I was washed ashore after drinking a potion that gave me feet. That’s why I was naked when you found me.”
Cheng-han stared at her for a moment.
“You’re kidding, right?”
But Shu-hui didn’t laugh. Her gaze was steady, honest.
“I told you this because I trust you. I didn’t want to go to the police because I feared ending up like my friend Coral.”
A Sad Truth
He looked away briefly, nodding slowly. “So it’s true then… about the mermaid in one of the bars in Kenting town. I heard they buried her after she died on land.”
“Poor Coral!” Shu-hui cried, tears slipping down her cheeks as she shook in his arms. “They didn’t even know how to care for her.”
She pressed her face to his chest.
“Why do humans hate us?”
Cheng-han kissed her hair.
“I’m sorry, Shu-hui. People fear what they don’t understand. They probably took Coral out of fear… or greed. But not everyone is like that. Some people can be trusted.”
He wrapped his arms tighter around her, the heat of his body shielding her from the wind.
“Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s go back inside.”
Care and Comfort
The scent of ground beans and boiling water filled the small hut. The air was quiet except for the soft bubbling of the kettle. Cheng-han poured the coffee into two cups, his hands steady, his breath slower than usual. Shu-hui sat at the edge of the mat, legs curled beneath her, wrapped in the towel he’d given her.
The warmth of the mug against her palms grounded her, and as she took a slow sip, the bitterness comforted her more than she expected.
“I’ve never been cared for like this in my life. Thank you,” she said softly, eyes fixed on the steam rising between them.
Cheng-han sat beside her, placing one hand gently on her knee. He leaned in and kissed her forehead. His lips were warm, dry, reassuring.
“I love you, Shu-hui. I won’t hurt you. You can trust me on that,” he said.
She held his gaze, heart thudding under her skin.
“I’ll just go change, okay?” he added, standing and disappearing behind the curtain.
Shu-hui placed her cup down silently. A moment passed.
Then, barefoot and quiet as mist, she stepped into the room behind him.
Cheng-han had just slipped off his pants. His bare legs caught the filtered sunlight, muscles taut from years of fishing, skin golden and strong. He turned slightly, startled.
“I didn’t hear you come in,” he began, but the words stopped as her lips wrapped around the head of his cock.
His breath caught — body tensing, heart pounding. Her hands cupped his hips. Her tongue traced slow circles around his tip, warm and wet, coaxing him into full erection. He tilted his head back, eyes closing, letting out a quiet groan that came from somewhere deep inside.
“I love you too, Cheng-han. I want to be with you forever,” she said between kisses, her voice muffled but clear in its intent.
She continued, unhurried and focused, sucking him deeper with each slow rhythm. His knees trembled slightly. He reached down and gently threaded his fingers through her hair, guiding her only to see her better.
She looked up at him and smiled.
“Do you like it?” she whispered.
His voice broke.
“Yeah. Go on, please.”
A Deeper Connection
Shu-hui smiled again, then took him back into her mouth, her pace building, soft moans vibrating against his shaft. Cheng-han couldn’t hold back much longer. He pulled her up into his arms, laying her down across the mat, pressing kisses across her collarbone as she undressed.
Her skin was warm and fragrant, flushed with want. She welcomed him with parted thighs, her breath shallow, lips swollen from kisses. He slid into her with a sigh of relief — as if he had been aching for this his entire life.
Their bodies moved together, slow at first, then faster as their hunger returned. Moans filled the space between their heartbeats. When they finally climaxed, they clung to each other in silence, damp and breathless.
“That was the best feeling I’ve ever had. I’m really happy with you, Cheng-han,” Shu-hui said, her voice soft and glowing.
“Me too,” he replied, kissing her shoulder. “Let’s get some sleep, okay? You’ve drained all my energy.”
She smiled and kissed him. “Okay.”
A New Day
By late morning, the sun was already high, casting shifting shadows through the slats of the wall. Shu-hui stirred beneath the blanket, the warmth of Cheng-han’s naked body against hers grounding her before her eyes opened.
She tucked the sheet over his hip, brushing hair from his forehead. He shifted slightly but didn’t wake.
She dressed quietly and stepped into the afternoon light. The breeze carried the sharp scent of dried fish and grilled sweetcorn from the market. The sea was calm, stretching wide and blue, and she felt light—like her new life had truly begun.
She bought vegetables, rice, fresh ginger, and sweet plums. She planned to make a meal for Cheng-han. Something warm and filling, something that said I love you without saying it.
Avoiding Trouble
But the walk home took her past a small clubhouse where rough voices rose in laughter. Three men sat outside, drinking in the sun. One saw her and leaned forward.
“Hey miss, want a shot?”
She ignored them. Her heart picked up pace. Their voices grew louder. Chairs scraped the pavement.
She quickened her pace. Two of the men followed. Their footsteps behind her sent a cold sweat down her spine. She left the path and cut through the rocks by the water, heading toward the hidden caves—places the locals avoided, fearing snakes and dark spirits.
Her breath came faster. The rocks were slick with spray, and she slipped—hitting her temple against the edge of the stone. Her vision blurred for a moment. The ocean pounded the shore nearby, and the cave’s shadows swallowed her.
“It’s getting colder; I better get back fast,” she thought.
She waited for hours, curled in the dark, barefoot, her heart thudding in her throat every time she heard distant footsteps or drunk laughter echo against the cliffs.
Only when the light began to fade and the shore fell silent did she run home.
The Sea’s Justice
Cheng-han was waiting on the porch, pacing, worry drawn across his face like shadows.
When he saw her, he ran forward and held her tight. She told him everything. The men. The chase. The hiding. Her injury. But when he said he’d go find them, her voice turned sharp.
“No. Don’t. The sea will take care of them.”
And it did.
The next morning, the village buzzed with news: three men were found dead on the shore, their bodies blue with poison. The cause? Sea snake bites.
Cheng-han looked at her as they walked past the gathering crowd.
“You are one mysterious lady, Shu-hui.”
Her expression didn’t change. She took his hand, and they kept walking, two shadows against the waterline, the sea whispering at their feet.