Once Upon A Time...
There once was a merman named Glaucus. Glaucus was hatched fathoms below the ocean's surface, about 11,000 nautical mile's southwest of the southern tip of Ireland. Growing up named after the prophetic Greek God of the sea, Glaucus knew there were expectations. Expectations to be heroic and to be brave. There were also expectations to mate, to find a suitable mermaid to procreate with, to breed and produce plenty of offspring to carry on the species.
Mermen have a fierce reputation for summoning storms, sinking ships and drowning sailors, but being the God of the Sea, Glaucus' role was to be the protector of fishermen and to give advice to anyone who was lost in the sea. This led the young merman to struggle with bonding with his fellow mermen, most who were older, haggard and bored, with the limitation of life under the sea.
It didn't help that Glaucus wasn't interested in mermaids. He also wasn't interested in mermen. There were limits with tail to tail contact, and Glaucus dreamed of finding and falling in love with a mortal, a prince who would scoop him up in his net, enter his tail slit, and cause every scale to quiver and stand on end. Sadly, Glaucus knew this wasn't a dream that his marine mates and kin group would ever ever support.
But Glaucus had a dream, and he knew what he had to do make it come true. The young merman knew it was risky, but he was both passionate and determined. During his time assisting fisherman and studly sailors in need, Glaucus often found himself falling hard for moist men he assisted to shore. None of these men however returned his love, nor his desire. Glaucus was never sure if it was because of his sex, or because of his tail.
They did however share stories, stories of places where all relationships were possible, places with an abundance of male mortals who would see his body and flesh as more than something to gut and fillet. Glaucus knew where he had to go, and knew what he had to do. Without a word to anyone, he slid out of the mer-cave late one night and sped across the Atlantic towards the East Coast of the US.
Glaucus wasn't sure what he'd find, but he was told there many beaches in and around New York with fisherman looking to hook and catch, all he had to offer. After four days and three nights, Glaucus came to shore. He was amazed at the sights and sounds from the shore and bright lights from the Boardwalk. Glaucus remained hidden, about a mile from shore until darkness finally came. It was then he headed to shore and onto the beach to unveil and display his bait.
For hours Glaucus dove in and out of the surf, dancing along the break water close to the shore attempting to attract some attention. At the three hour mark, Glaucus was about to give up. Except for a group of drunken teens, who threw beer cans at his head, he hadn't managed to catch anyone's eye, or see anyone's rod thrusting towards his bait.
Tired and forlorn, Glaucus pulled himself along the beach and onto to the rocks to take a rest. The trek across the Atlantic had taken more out of him than he thought, and Glaucus fell asleep, convinced his mortal dream was never meant to be. The feel of heavy mesh netting lading his lower fin caused Glaucus to rise, turn and lock eyes with the hot naked fisherman sizing up his catch... to find out if this is more than just a catch and release story, continue checking out the rest of the tail's tale on page 2 HERE:
1 comment:
Wonderful, fun and well done.
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