The belly is soft and feels like the underside of a snake. He has a penis there. Inverted I suspect, hidden in his body and prepared to slip out when erect and into mine. I am aware that this is possible, his body and mine, connected in this way. I am frightened by the idea, flattered, curious. I touch his body and am surprised by the softness of it. On top he is a carpet of barnacles. If he were to swim past and brush against me I would be cut and torn. His paws are gentle but firm, hugging me to him. I am afraid of drowning. I am more afraid of drowning than the strength in his thick warm boy. His eyes are dark and if he were a human I would call them soulful. He is ugly but also beautiful, that odd mix of things that I am prone to like. I am aware that this would be an adventure and one that women seldom have.
Sailors, it is said coupled with female dugongs spawning mermaid myths. I imagine this creature, here, now, sidling up to a sailing ship and calling mournfully up to the crew. Do dugongs have voices like wales or dolphins? Do dugongs have song?
I am frightened and yet if I could breath under water I might swim with him out to sea. The locals tell me he is bereft. They mate for life and his partner was killed over a year ago. I imagine he is love lorn. It is flattering to be the object of such attention.
A dolphin's penis is sickle shaped and pink, almost red. I wonder about the penis of a dugong. I wonder as he clamps his paws harder around my stomach and moves his powerful tail, towing us further out to sea. I am out of my depth. I push away from him gently and kick back to where my husband is waiting, anxiously on the beach.