Mistress In A Bottle {Part 1}

There he was, just simple man named Henry walked along the beach, the incoming tide splashing around his feet. He loved this. It was one of the few remaining ties to his old life. He dimly recalled walking along a beach much like this one, hand in hand with Shannon. The memory brought a short sigh, but the wistful feeling was quickly forgotten. Instead, he just reveled in the physicality of the moment: the cold ocean water, the sand flowing between his toes, the sounds of the waves crashing along the shore, and the moonlight reflecting off the constantly changing water.
In the distance, Henry spotted something bobbing in the surf, tossed about as the waves bubbled and rolled along the sandy shelf of the Pacific coast. As he walked closer, he was able to better make out the shape. It looked like an over sized Coke bottle, with the familiar hourglass shape. In addition to the glass, though, was a metal frame wrapped around the two enlarged ends.
Henry was intrigued by the object, as it certainly didn’t look like anything else he had ever seen floating in the ocean. By the time he reached it, he concluded it looked like a genie bottle. It wasn’t as ornate or fancy as the bottle in “Aladdin” or “I Dream of Jeannie,” but it certainly was unique. The metal bands had fine etchings of various pictograms, as well as what Henry assumed were words in some indecipherable language.
He bent down to pick up the object. Despite having been in the Pacific Ocean, it was warm to the touch. Henry held it up in the moonlight and tried to make out the images. Part of one of the bands was coated in sand. He brushed at the warm metal to clear off the sand.
Suddenly, a seam opened in one end of the glass enclosure, and smoke began pouring out. The images on the artifact glowed brightly in three pulses before fading back into steel-gray metal.
The smoke coalesced into the shape of a person. Before Henry’s eyes, an incredibly attractive woman had appeared. Sure enough, she was wearing an outfit of translucent silks which revealed far more than it concealed. Henry didn’t care though. She would have been beautiful in his eyes wearing a trenchcoat or flannel pajamas. Those golden-flecked green eyes which seemed to look into his soul. The full, rich red lips which pouted lovingly towards him. The delicately tapering legs which vanished into her inhumanly tight ass. And of course, her breasts. They were floating above her ribcage, straining the fabric of her top and making her erect nipples clearly visible to his admiring gaze.