The Secret of Atlantis

"I never brought a man home on a second date," Karissa said.

"You broke your own rules for me?" Atlantis said.

"You make me feel athletic, even when I sit on my ass," she said.

"Not sure how I do that."

"I feel motivated to be athletic, to move my body in front of your eyes."

"This house is super...all this from owning a sub shop?" Atlantis said.

"No...my dad was a scientist and left me 'all this'" she said.

"I'm sorry he died," he said.

"Thank you...it was several years ago," she said. "My soon to be ex-husband tried to get some of it— most of it, he felt entitled to everything."

"Sounds like a common asshole," he said. "Is this your daughter?"

Atlantis lifted a gold framed picture of a twenty-one-year-old smiling brunette wearing a red Christmas sweater. "I see where she gets her looks," he said.

"She's at FSU," she said. "I paid for it, her father, Glen would have kept her out and used the money for drugs and booze."

"I am glad you are divorcing him," Atlantis said.

"His Christian parents are not," she said. "They believe every marriage just needs hard work, even if the wife is extorted out of her inheritance, flattened like a pancake, bleeding out on their patio, rivers of blood into their swimming pool."

"I need to sit," he said.

Atlantis turned white as dentin. He found a fuzzy chair near Karissa's glass dinner table. She gave him a tall cup of water with two hard ice cubes. He pulled the salt from the center and poured half the crystals in. Too many to dissolve properly; leaving a cloud which he gulped down.

"Are you okay," she said. "Was it something I said?"

"No," he said. "Yes...I mean blood in the pool reminds me of childhood."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Maybe another time...do you have wine?"

"I sure do."

They moved to the patio. The above ceiling fan spun its beige painted petals, fanning a wood table that was large, suitable for 'the Last supper'. Splayed out on top; two empty wine bottles, a plastic bowl of salsa chips, and their hands entangled together.

She lifted herself in a summer dress that rippled like an American flag. Landing on his right thigh, she put both arms around his neck and smiled. He smiled. Both smiles collapsed into a mutual investigation of each other's tongues, lips, rows of teeth. Atlantis cupped her grapefruit breast, yellow cotton and all; it was peppered with prints of pelicans perched on pilings. Her eyes, an Atlantic ocean's blue, draped nearby long brown hair that tickled his soft, thin face.

She raised off him. He lifted her dress past her honey gold eyelids. Past her firm tits that jiggled back in place. They looked beautiful and swollen. Her warm stomach; tan and flat, kept a tidy inner belly button. Her thighs, well built, stood smooth up to her shaved vajayjay. Behind it all; the best bubble ass in South Florida.

Karissa unbuttoned his silk dress shirt as he pulled down his checkered boxers and shiny black slacks. She slid down on his cock while spreading his buttons apart; airing out his tough, furry chest. The palms of her hands became warm as she pressed against his rattling heart. She lifted herself up, to the point her pussy held his erection at its tippy top. After sliding back down, she landed her tongue inside his peppermint crevice of a smile.

Atlantis observed in a slider; a greyish monotone reflection of her bubble ass riding him. It jiggled under her poised lengthy back. He sucked in her breasts like an abandoned infant— rescued and loved. And contemplated his blurred complexion that clung to its nakedness; so vulnerable at this woman's house. But she wholeheartedly accepted Atlantis by baring all. He was no longer shy nor defensive of things, so he splattered her ass cheeks with his palms. Making his entire body pressurized, dizzy, and pleased. He exploded inside; like ending a nightmare; like scratching a neglected itch that bled out sweet blood. They kissed each other's necks with song-bird pecks, then scurried back to the lips. While catching their breaths; his wide brown eyes and her blue ones descrambled each other.

"Would you freak out if I did something magical; I bet you have never seen in your life?" Atlantis said.

"Sounds spooky," she said.

"Watch this," he said.

His naked body blurred by and dove into the pool's deep end. His body mass grew underwater and from it, popped up an eighteen-inch dorsal fin. Atlantis smacked his heavy great white head, with doll's eyes, and jaws up on the puddled patio.

"What do you think?" the shark said.

"Oh, my fucking God!"

Karissa ran naked through the house and deposited bone chilling screams in every empty room. In the foyer, she grabbed her keys, and screeched a Porsche 959 out from the driveway.

"What the fuck was that!" she said.

Her naked body trembled, as her tits swayed, burning the Porsche through endless stop signs to her best friend's house.

"Racheal...open the fucking door," she said.

Racheal's nineteen-year-old son, Greg, opened up.

"Nice tits...Miss Johnson," Greg said.

"Where is your fucking mother?"

"Upstairs."

Karissa darted up the staircase.

"Damn...sweet ass too, Miss Johnson."

"What the fuck is going on...were you raped?" Racheal said.

"No...I need clothes and a bottle of whiskey," Karissa said. "And tell your son to stop commenting on my tits and ass."

Back at Karissa's, a twenty-five-foot great white barreled in the grass, cursing the moon.

"Too soon you idiot," he said. "You get laid and you bare all...too fucking soon."

Rachael rummaged her own kitchen cabinets. Yanking a bag of Doritos to find an unopened bottle of Jack Daniels. With two red cups, she flew up the staircase to aide her best friend.

"What happened?" Racheal said.

"I just fucked an alien and he came inside me," she said. "I am fucked."

"An alien?"

"I just fucked Jaws, okay."

"Here." Racheal glued a topped off cup of Jack inside Karissa's hands.

"I am sorry," Karissa said.

First her throat burned, then it crawled up her nose, cooking her eyes to tears. The cup now emptied.

"You just drank that whole fucking thing?" Racheal said.

"I met a guy last weekend...gorgeous...architect...tall; dark; handsome," she said. "He looked like Adam Levine..."

"I get it...he's cute."

"We just had wine in my backyard...and I slept with him...and he jumped in the pool, and..."

"And..."

"And he turned into a God Damn shark and started talking with his shark head..."

Karissa lost consciousness and fell back on a purple quilt. Racheal straightened her out and tucked her naked body in.

"Greg, you stay out of the guest room...Karissa is not feeling well."

Three weeks later; Racheal's purple buggy parked outside of Karissa's. Both finished bacon cheeseburgers on the coffee table, and Racheal held a gasp. "Is there a reason for a shotgun and six thousand pregnancy tests on the table?"

"I want to see if I'm pregnant and if I see shark-man again, I will use Glen's gun."

"Does Glen know?"

"No fucking way."

"Have you talked to shark-man since?"

"No...but there is an anonymous letter, that green one right there, with my name on it."

"When did you get this?"

"It was on the doormat yesterday."

"Can I open it."

"Fine."

"Can I read it?"

"Yes."

"Dear Karissa. I am so sorry for what I put you through. They say that men are as honest as woman ten minutes after sex."

"Are you kidding me?" Karissa said.

"I never showed another human being my 'thing' before. To make a long story short, I was a baby shark first, captured by fisherman in a net, and within a half hour, I became a twenty-year-old man (I even spoke and understood English and Bulgarian). The fishermen tried to harpoon me for some reason, and I jumped ship and became a shark again. Ten years later, I beached myself in Key West and became a man for a second time. That was last Saturday. Thank you for understanding. I love you. - Atlantis."

"That is really sweet, Karissa."

"Are you kidding me...I screwed the creature from the blue lagoon."

"He sounds harmless."

"Yah, unless you go for a swim...he was as long as my fucking pool. And I have the biggest pool in the neighborhood as you know."

"He is special; gifted; and if as cute and successful as you say he is...why not give him another chance?"

"Successful...he obviously lied about being an architect and subsequently about being a killer shark."

"Haven't you seen the documentary 'Save Jaws', there are no killer sharks...and besides, it's kind of sexy, like being with a male mermaid or something."

"Why don't you fuck him, and instead of having a nursery, you can bring home your brother's massive fish tank from his dental office and raise them."

Racheal's complexion went from strawberry red to bone white. With her tongue spilled out, her mouth widened into a black hole. And like a sunflower stretched towards a blue sky, she stood upright.

"What is it?"

"I think it's in your pool."

Both ladies ran to the back slider to view an enormous shark with coal eyes, wide fins, and a large opened jaw. And with all its pinkness, spotted ampullae of Lorenzini, and rows of jagged teeth, it spoke. "Karissa, please come out here so I can talk with you...bring the shotgun if it makes you feel better."

"I've never seen a great white shark; can we go out?" Racheal said.

"I hate the both of you," Karissa said.

They descended on the pool deck, Karissa with a shotgun, Racheal with a handful of French fries. "Can you at least get out of the fucking pool and be a man," Karissa said.

"That was kind of funny," Racheal said.

"Fine," he said.

"Hey...he says 'fine' like you do Karissa."

"That's grounds for marriage," Karissa said.

Atlantic spun out of the pool and rubbed his placoid scales across the lawn. The fins and tail shrunk into a fleshy hue. His arms and legs looked puny compared to the beast he just was. And on his feet, he swung his eight-inch cock which dangled anew for Rachael's green eyes.

Click-click -- Makes Karissa's shotgun ready. "I cannot deal with this. Off my property fish-boy."

"What is a matter with you," Racheal said.

"Take him if you want him," Karissa said.

"I will...you need somewhere to stay Hun?" Racheal said.

"I love your red hair," Atlantis said.

Two months later, one thousand nautical miles east, off the shore of Florida. Racheal's sunbathed body, ornamented in a tight black bikini, hugged Atlantis's dorsal fin. And his enormous jaws raised above the surface. "See up there, that grey blur?" Atlantis said.

"What is it?" she said.

"A U.S. Navy Ship called the USS Ardent...holds about 60 men."

"How do you know this?"

"I was a shark for years, babe," he said.

Racheal's red hair yanked back; the cold seawater peppered her face with salt. Atlantis picked up speeds around thirty miles an hour towards the warship. And just short of it, he stopped. "Take off your top and bottom, get on your knees, bend over and hold onto my dorsal fin."

"No...for what?"

"I want to show off my girl to all those sailors."

"What if I say no," she said.

"We're a convenient distance of your screams being heard. Believe me, as a great white, I am no stranger to human screams out here. You will not be heard, babe."

"What are you going to do?"

"This."

Atlantic dove straight down like a torpedo. After ten feet submerged; Racheal let loose and swam back towards the wrinkled sun beams. She reached the air and screamed for the sailors. "Help me."

Her muscles burned and the saltwater became thick as oil. Her chest felt like it could cave in. Her eyes teared acid and the sun, directly above, burned her forehead. How long have I been floating here? Ten minutes? An hour?

A large dorsal fin surfaced and encircled. "Atlantis...please?" But what if that's not Atlantis; but another shark?

She slowed her kicking and instead, bobbed and prayed. She kicked her knees up to her waste and peeled off her thong. She reached around, unclipped her top, and cut loose her D Breasts that spilled out like water balloons.

By a gust that spiraled to her eardrums, Atlantis's voice carried "Good girl"

His body raised her out of the dark green abyss which was happy to swallow her. She bent over and death gripped his dorsal fin. The entire ten-minute trip, she caught her breath and by that time, a row of sailors whistled and clapped. Atlantis swam so close; the shadow of the ship relieved her sunburn.

"Bend over and show'em that beautiful ass," Atlantis said. Racheal's bare bubble butt, spanked by sea breeze, bright in the hot sun; jiggled on display for a thirty-man row of sailor cock that cheered in disbelief.

"Now hold my dorsal with one hand, lean back, and flaunt and shimmy those tits babe."

He drove by again and paraded her large firm tits. Sailors imagined sucking and fucking her tits by the dozen.

"Dudes, she is riding a fucking white shark in the middle of the damn ocean," a sailor said.

"And?" another sailor said.

"She is probably a witch or something...maybe we should shoot her."

Atlantis heard it and swam off at his full capacity of 35 miles an hour. "Hold on tight babe," Atlantis said.

"I hate you," she said.

"See how safe that was? And those men will never know you or see you again. And they will have sea stories for their grandchildren, of a beautiful nude goddess."

"I just want to go home," she said.

One week later; Racheal's purple buggy parked outside of Karissa's. Both finished bacon cheeseburgers on the coffee table, and Racheal held a gasp.

"I dumped the prick last week," Racheal said. "What an asshole, I should have listened to you."

"I told you," Karissa said.

"He forced me to strip and showboat in front of a sailor crew out in the middle of the damn ocean."

"I told you."

"From now on, I'm trusting my instincts and if red flags are there, I will react."

"You mean red flags: like dating a man who happens to be a fucking great white shark?" Karissa said. "Those flags?"

"Like that..." Racheal said. "What did you call me over to tell me?"

"Oh shit...that."

"What?

"I'm pregnant."

"Want me to go with you?"

"Where?"

"The abortion...like duh."

"Oh, I'm having it." Karissa said. "And I am staying married to Glen and we will raise it."

"Glen won't go for that."

"Oh, yes he will. His parents will tell him marriage is 'hard work' next Sunday morning."