The Bay of Lust
This is entirely sarcasm. Please do not take any of this seriously. I hate this story, and I hate lobsters, and a bunch of my friends wouldn't stop pestering me for this.
So. Have some anatomically correct lobster sex.
Read, comment, but for the first time ever, I won't say enjoy, because...I don't know how anyone could enjoy this.
The water in the Yickiny Bay was flooded with chemicals.
This time of year, those chemicals were pheromones from all of the molting female lobsters. The most deadly kind of chemicals of all.
To a passerby, this would seem horribly gross, because it is, but for Carl, the large Maine lobster, it was the trigger to send him into a frenzy of lust. He'd spent his whole morning fighting off other male suitors, wanting to secure the best piece of lobster pussy in the river for himself, an ironic task, since lobsters have no vaginas.
Portia didn't need a vagina to satisfy Carl, though. She just had to finish taking off that sexy, crunchy exoskeleton.
"Hey baby. Looks like you could use a little help molting that thing," Carl said as he approached, swimming backwards so she wouldn't have to look at his tiny, beady black eyes.
Portia would blush if her anatomy allowed for it, but she was already red all over. "It's just a little stuck. A male with some big, powerful claws would be really wonderful right about now."
Carl spun around, showing off those eerily big, and yet, tiny eyes, startling Portia, but she was captivated by his mock chivalry. "I got just what you need," he assured her, clamping a claw down on the stuck part of her carapace and giving it a quick pull and swam backwards.
With a disgusting, sickening sound of skeleton ripping from flesh that was thankfully muffled by the water around them, Carl pulled hard, and just like that, Portia was a fleshy looking underwater spider thing, completely vulnerable to the predators lurking in the shadows.
Portia was clearly frightened, somehow, because Lobsters have no way to discern facial expressions, but Carl could tell and wrapped a claw around her misshapen neck. "Don't worry baby, come back to my cave. I know just what you need."
They swam backwards, unnaturally towards the rocky edge of the bay. Carl had a small and jagged cave, but it got the job done when he just needed to get his lobster rocks off, which was unusual, because like all male lobsters, he didn't really have a penis, either.
"Oh my goodness. Are we really going to do this?" Portia asked, but no sooner than she had did Carl penetrate her seminal receptacles firm pleopods.
"That's right, my crunchy delight, we're going all the way!" Carl cried out in orgasmic bliss, because lobster sex is extremely short and unsatisfying. He was literally just stabbing her with his pleopods, and after a few seconds, her belly welled up with nearly six years worth of stale, backed up sperm.
Portia flopped her wider, sexier tail about wildly as Carl had his extremely short way with her. It was over in seconds, and just like that, their moods completely flipped.
"I'm gonna go take a nap. That was really exhausting," Carl said, rolling over in his cave.
"That's agreeable," Portia replied. "I'm gonna go find a place to hide for fifteen months after I push some disgusting number of eggs into your sperm."
"Eh, whatever. Lobsters don't have custody battles. They just have disgusting sex."
"Here here."
So he rolled over for a nap, and she hid, and much like the sex beforehand, it was all disgusting.