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That day, life finally seemed what mice call “normal.” I will admit, I had envied the diurnal on occasion... mayhap on more than one occasion. I will admit that, for a time, it felt like a dream come true. And that refreshed, energized feeling I had experienced upon waking had not left me.

For once, I could stretch out on silky sand of my private beach and sunbathe. Fancy that! Sunbathing! That's like a mouse taking a dive into caustic acid and remaining as unharmed as if they had dived into water. I think I had begun an actual tan, but I didn't dare press my luck. No more than ten minutes of direct sun... I felt there might still be a chance I could burn, from my prolonged lack of UV exposure to that point if for no other reason.

I watched Basil as he failed horribly at spear fishing, reclining in a newly-acquired beach chair. Basil stood as still as physically possible, spear clenched in one raised fist, and then lunged forward. He then tripped headfirst into the surf after his prey.
I could not help but guffaw at this, sweeping a hand to my mouth. This swift motion caused my drink to tip from its resting place on a rock, and I gasped, reaching too late. I fully expected it to shatter... but it had paused halfway through its descent. It hung in the air as if suspended by invisible wire.

I closed a cautious hand around the glass and lifted it easily. I examined the glass, perplexed. I knew I hadn't imagined the occurrence...
Experimenting, I let go the glass. It floated in front of me as if set upon an unseen surface.
I thought- just for a moment- about the glass falling into my lap. No sooner had I imagined it, it happened. I spilled a perfectly good mai-tai all over an expensive white bikini.

“Man, you're clumsy,” Basil chuckled, offering me his towel. I blushed, removing the glass from my lap and accepting the towel. I then started, grasping Basil by the forearm.

“You saw it, didn't you?”

 

Page 47

“Yeah. You totally spilled your drink all over your lap.”
“No, no, before that.”
Basil shrugged. “I just looked over and you were drenched in cocktail.”
I sighed in aggravation. “I made that glass float. I don't know how, but I did.”
“You mean like psychokinesis?”
“Whatever you mice call it, fine. But you didn't see it, so it doesn't matter.”
Basil wrinkled his nose. “Mice?”
I dabbed at my doused bikini bottoms, sighing again and dismissing him. “Yes, mouse. It's what you were before you met me. You still act like one on occasion.”

The towel was ripped from my fingers, causing me to gasp. Then it was roughly rubbed all over my head, tousling my hair asunder. I cried out in protest, but he only lowered his attentions, jostling my breasts. A giggle was forced from my chest and I tried in vain to push him away.
“Oh, just wanted to make sure you're dry, mistress!” he said in a terrible attempt at an English accent. “It's only the least a lowly mouse can do!”
“Stop, you're hurting me...” My uncontrollable laughter betrayed the warning, and he only continued with more vigor in lower regions.
“Ah, here's your problem! It's all wet down here!” his ungentle motions caused my thighs to clamp shut on his hand. He forced my knees apart, tossing the towel aside.
“This calls for some close investigation... Wouldn't you agree?”
“Not in the slightest.” But I didn't stop him.

He slid off the juice-stained garment, lifting first one milky thigh and then the other. He pushed me back onto the chair, making himself welcome to the sensitive skin where inner thigh meets hip. I melted instantly, resting my arms above my head, gazing out at the blue horizon. I hissed a breath as his tongue found my labia, parted them... my body jolted involuntarily as he flicked the sensitive nub, now swollen.
“Mmmm... you taste tropical.”
“Shouldn't talk with your mouth full, dearest.”
He obeyed.