WARNING: Terrible puns ahead!
~
My dad's office was in the Shipwreck Building on the corner of Coral and Pacific. I usually swam there after school since it was just down the reef. I'd do my homework in the breakroom then he drove us home in his submersible at the end of the day.
Other than that, I barely ever saw my dad. He was a corporate predator, a real shark in the boardroom. His work ethic could be summed up as never stop swimming, or you'll suffocate, so he was pretty detached. Also, my mom's fin was turned into soup when I was just a pup. So, yeah, my life was pretty lonely, even for a tiger shark.
I had a few friends, but not here, not after dad moved us to the big reef for his shiny new promotion to CESP. That is Chief Executive Super Predator. It's also hard to make new friends when you have more teeth than all of them combined.
At least my classes were engaging, so I didn't mind attacking my homework, and I was all business when I swam up to my dad's office that day. I had a huge essay due for anthropology about the culinary history of humans, how sharks through the ages have made the bony land creatures actually taste good.
I stopped for a license plate sandwich on the way and tore into it as soon I entered the office. It was a bit salty, but I love the rich texture of an Oregon plate, especially compared to a Connecticut plate, but that's a pretty low sandbar to clear.
As I tore the sheet metal apart, I was greeted by the extremely sexy voice of my dad's secretary.
"Good afternoon, Tiger!" she almost sang.
"Oh, hey, Ms. Atlanta," I said, "Is my dad here today?"
"Tiger, I've known you since you and Ariel used to play Pirates and Navy in the backyard. Call me Syren," she said with a beautiful smile, "And your dad's gone for the afternoon. An anchor crashed into the factory, so he had to inspect the damage."
Ms. Atlanta, or Syren, I guess, was the mom of one of my childhood friends. She and her daughter Ariel were mermaids, and I have fantasized about both of them since I learned what the things hanging between my pelvic fins were for.
Syren was almost 500, but she didn't look a day over 350, with long hair that I guess was a color called red, but we were usually too deep to see it. So it was more like a gorgeous black which she tied back in a tight but cute bun so it wouldn't float in her face.
I pretended to look her in the eye, but my attention was usually drawn to her full, delicious lips. I swear those lips couldn't make any shape that wasn't sexy, and her voice sounded almost like she was singing all the time.
Best of all were her two enormous ballast tanks. They didn't have any sag since they floated freely in the water, and each one was as big as one of those balls that humans sometimes throw into the water, the white ones with the stitching. I once found one with a handprint and a face drawn on it. It was delicious, and so was the castaway who lost it, but I digress.
Her daughter was easy on the eyes too, and we've been friends since I was old enough to understand that there were some sea creatures I wasn't allowed to eat. Unfortunately, Ariel did not come to college with me when I asked and opted to study abroad in the Meditteranean. So I never got the chance to tell her I wanted to be more than friends.
I was thrilled when I found out my dad hired her mom as his secretary, though. If I couldn't hang out with Ariel anymore, then at least I would still see her mom daily.
Back to the present, I thought about what Syren had said. The factory was on the other end of the reef, so if dad was there...
"Oh," I said, "Well, how am I getting home tonight?"
"Oh, don't worry about it," she said, "I can drive you home."
"You can?" I asked, "Wow! That is huge of you! Thanks, Ms. Atlanta, er, Syren."
"No problem, Tiger," she said.
Tiger was my name, but the way she said it was a bit more... seductive than usual. And wait, was she biting her lip at me? I pushed those thoughts aside because I needed to focus on schoolwork and swam to the breakroom.
An hour later, my essay went swimmingly, and I was in full attack mode like the paper was a helpless seal. Oh man, what I would do to munch on a baby harp seal right about now. As I salivated over my writing, imagining all the ways to cook humans that I was describing, Syren swam up behind me.
"Hey," she smiled, and I immediately felt my claspers twitch, "I brought you a cup of coffee." It had all floated out of the cup, leaving a dark brown cloud behind her, but it was the thought that counted.
"Thanks," I said and took a bite out of the mug.
"Mind if I join you?" she asked and floated over the table in front of me.
"Yes," I stammered, "I mean no! I mean, sure, you can join me!"
Neptune, damn it! Why is she so distracting? She drifted softly to the tabletop and laid her face in her palms while looking over my work.
"Anthropology?" she asked, and I nodded, "I can understand why it's so engaging. I want to be where the people are too. That's a typo, by the way."
She pointed to the paper, and I erased it in frustration.
"Do you need any help editing it?" she asked.
"Uh, no thanks," I said, then made the mistake of glancing up. She was lying down in front of me, so I saw all the way down her blouse. I gulped and looked back down, but it was too late. She'd seen me staring down her cleavage.
"Why are you embarrassed?" she asked, then pushed herself off the table and drifted behind me. She draped one of her arms across my fin then propped her cheek up with her elbow on the table. The angle meant she stared right at me.
"I well... I... oh my, is it getting warm in here?" I asked.
Syren twisted so she leaned back against the table with her tail floating behind me and said, "I don't know, you tell me."
I glanced over at her, and she looked me dead in the eye. Her sexy lips weren't quite smiling, but they were curled seductively, and her back was arched, pushing her tits forward and up toward the surface.
I returned to my essay and realized I had written nothing but gibberish for the last five sentences. I crumpled the page in irritation and ripped it apart with my jaws. I calmed myself and pulled another blank sheet of paper from my fin pack.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked.
"What am I doing?" Syren smirked.
"You're being very distracting," I said. Syren smiled and apologized, then swam out of the break room. But not before she gave me an enticing look at her plump ass as it bobbed up and down with her tail. Can you believe it? She was a mermaid, and she had a nice ass. I shook my head like I was ripping apart a dolphin, and my work continued more smoothly now that she was gone.
My best friend's steaming hot mom, my dad's drop-dead gorgeous secretary, was flirting with me. And not subtly either.
Another hour went by, and it was starting to get late. If my dad didn't come back to the office now, I wouldn't get a ride home with him. Sure enough, my shellphone beeped, and I got a text from him asking where I was. I told him I was at the office, and he told me to ride home with Syren.
"Hey, Tiger!" she called from the office, "Could you lend me a fin with something?"
I would have preferred to get more work done. However, it seemed like the body of my essay was finished. The hard work was done. Now it was all just proofreading and polishing so I could afford the distraction.
I swam into the office, and Syren was there with a box floating near one of the shelves.
"It's just a little too high and heavy for me," she said. I looked between her, the box, and the shelf and wondered why she couldn't just swim up there with it, but I shrugged my pectoral fins and cruised over.
"Where do you need it?" I asked.
"Top shelf in the very back," she said. I grabbed hold of the box and lifted it in my jaws.
"No, a bit more to the left," she said and reached upward. It was barely perceptible, possibly even accidental, but Syren's fingers brushed past my claspers. My eyes rolled back, and I couldn't help but chomp the box right in half. Files and papers floated out in every direction like a cloud of jellyfish.
"Holy shit!" I said, "I'm-I'm so sorry."
"Don't worry about it," she said, scooping up as many loose papers as she could, "Most of these are years-old reports anyway. That was quite a bite, though. I remember a little shark pup who couldn't even crack a coconut." My claspers were now as hard as coral and right at her eye level.
"These are new too," she purred. I tried covering them up with my fins and swam to the floor to try and hide my double erection (note: I have no idea if sharks can actually have an erection). Syren laid down in front of me and rested her cheek in her hand.
"You've grown up, Tiger," she said, as her tail flitted around above and behind her, "May I see them?"
