This is part of my snippet collection – quick little short stories.
she collected shells in one hand, her top held together by a singular button, her breasts on full display the way she liked it. she loved coming to this beach, so secluded and away from the prying eyes of tourists. sand clung to her chest as she contemplated the day. she came down to the beach every day to collect shells that she would make into exquisite necklaces and sell to the tourists in town. she had a small booth at the local market where she sat most weekends, her blouse buttoned up but her breasts still bare. she didn’t believe in bras. she believed in being free.
he came to her stall last weekend–the man who took her breath away. all dark eyes, stubble, strong jaw, muscles that threatened to escape from his tight long-sleeve t-shirt. he talked with her briefly, admiring her wears, his gaze falling to her breasts more than once. she had wanted to unbutton one of her buttons to show him it was ok to look. she wasn’t shy of her body. she felt things of beauty were meant to be shared and admired. she didn’t mind people looking and often encouraged it. this didn’t mean she was loose with her body–she wasn’t–but for the right man she might be encouraged to give in. it had been too long since she had found someone worthy of her, who knew how to caress her, to capture. she felt like a wild stallion begging to be tamed but as of yet, no man had been able to control her.
she had smiled at the man, answered his questions, tried to encourage him without being overtly obvious, but he was pleasant, picked up different pieces, expressed his admiration, before going on his way.
she had sulked for the rest of the day, wishing he’d return, but he never did. she had pegged him as a tourist, probably dropped off by one of the massive cruise ships, only on the island for the day. she knew she’d never see him again and the thought bummed her out.
she thought about this man while she collected shells on the beach, her breasts free, the ocean breeze washing over her. she felt like a nymph and enjoyed the feeling. she felt free and like she could live without abandon. liberated. more than she had ever hoped she could be.
as she was reaching down for a particularly beautiful shell shimmering in the late afternoon light, a movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. for a moment she though it was a shark or a dolphin breaking through the surface of the ocean but it wasn’t—it was the man from the stall.
his massive chest broke through the water as he flipped his head back, the water releasing from his hair in an arch behind his back. he wiped the water from his face as he emerged, moving towards the shore, moving towards her. she was mesmorized and couldn’t move. he had captured her without even trying.
she watched as he walked towards her, his dark board shorts dripping as he walked, the thick muscles in his legs working as he moved closer towards her. she felt trapped but didn’t mind, her eyes wide on his. he smiled, a small smirk on his lips. she smiled back, not sure what he was seeing.
the shells fell from her hands as he scooped her up in his arms, carrying her like nothing, not saying a word. she was too stunned to talk, too captivated to respond, as she let him carry her away.