He was clearly, truly enraged this time. “Do I … feel good … George?” I gasped between his thrusts. xxx 18 Above me, George snorted in triumph, and laid his flipper across my body, pinning my small frame to the sand. I sat back in the sand, weak at the knees over what I had just witnessed. Then he began to charge, and I realized this was how I would die, crushed by thousands of pounds of angry seal. This Beachmaster I recognized as a male I had previously nicknamed George. The immense load slapped into me, quickly overwhelming the insufficient confines of my snatch and pouring over to pool on my thigh and drip onto the sand. By the time I heard his roar, it was too late.
