She Sells Seahells – Part One – (Original Story)

Image result for vana katacic
Drink…Dr. Ink

I was breathless. I was ecstatic. The soft sand propelled me forward with a rhythmic dampened crunch. I was a little tipsy. My friend seven years my senior lagged far behind. Not only was he older, but the call center hadn’t exactly improved his stamina. I had run track in highschool and never stopped running.

My legs were thick and strong and the exhilaration of the liquid liberty of a 21st birthday had rendered my companion a distant spec barely visible on the horizon. I jumped into the foaming waves.

It was dark. There weren’t many hotels here just a few snooty residential houses. The water was warm beneath a pallid moon and a billion brilliant stars. I sloshed about taking in all the sensations of dr

ink and the unparalleled joy of a young disciplined body.

“Listen you ocean…you great salty fuck…you’re mine…you don’t scare me! I’ll swim you. I’ll drown you with my motion.”

I treaded water as I watched the shore. It was so still so calm. I’d been high a couple of times more than a couple…but I had never felt this good. I’d fucked and it had never felt this good.

The combination of alkaline numbness, runners high, and the balmy air of an oceanside evening was the sublimest birthday gift that I could have received.

O but there was more!

I saw somebody else as my gaze fell to my left.

A girl. It was dark but I knew it was a girl. I could tell by the hips even though she was wearing a hoody. It was three twenty AM. What was she doing out here. Maybe she’d come from one of those rich dudes house. Rich girls always had the best grass.

…and the best ass…

I sprang to my feet and jogged in her direction.

I’d made quiet a lot of sound on the approach and she had doubtless heard my commotion in the waves. Yet I was within a foot and she stood perfectly still. In fact as I got closer I realized that she hadn’t moved at all.

‘Did someone lose their real doll?’ I laughed out loud. A boisterous laugh fed by the virility of young adulthood and the lingering whimsy of adolescence.

Despite my laughing she did not move.

“Hey girl…hey!” I said leaping in front of her.

Stock still.

I was beginning to feel odd.

“Hey are you alright…” I was facing her now. Her head was cast down the hoodie obscuring her features beneath the feeble aid of a waning moon.

Nothing. No motion. No sound.

Except…was…was she sobbing? If she was. It was the faintest sob that I had ever heard.

“Hey…” I said reaching out my hand…”it’s going to be ok…what is it bitchy friends…dick boyfriend…” just as my fingertips made contact with her shoulder…she fucking screamed.

I mean really screamed. It wasn’t just any scream it was a shriek.

“Great…” I muttered sarcastically as I nursed my ears. “It’s going to be even more annoying hearing the cops ask stupid questions and suggest rapey intentions now that I’m deaf.”

It had really hurt. It had hurt in more than one way. It took it a while to fully take hold. But I was suddenly…sad…just really really sad. I felt hot tears streak like lightning down my face…they were salty…so salty and so hot…I was choking on them. I let out a long low wail.

I felt an oppressive blackness. I could see nothing. And hear nothing…and feel nothing except grief…grief that dragged me further and further down down till it gave way to sympathy an overwhleming sense of sympathy and I opened my arms…

The blackness receded. She was no longer wearing a hood. My friend was nowhere in sight. She was beautiful…her hair a jetty shimmering black…her skin pale and smooth as porcelain…the eyes were such a deep pale blue. She regarded me with so much understanding in those depths and her arms outstretched.

We embraced and I felt the world begin to whirl. Her skin was soft, silky, warm…her breath was sweet…but I could feel the sadness return…I could feel it increase with every thump I felt emerge from beneath her breast. Our heartbeats were syncing…like my heart was slowly being taught to keep rhythm with hers…with each pulse…I felt strange primordial pain…and it increased…till all was bright…blindingly bright and bare and reeling.

To be continued.


https://www.minds.com/Weirmellow | Indie Social Media Site
https://www.patreon.com/TheFractalJournal | Support the Journal – I will always try to improve production wise independent of revenue generated through this content but every bit of loose change helps. Whether or not you choose to help out I appreciate your visit.

 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s