Author's note: All sexual acts portrayed in this story are between characters aged 18 or older. Any resemblance to non-fictional people and events is neither intended by the author nor inferred by the text.
Thank you for reading. Please enjoy
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Chapter 1
My name is Clayton Dawes, and I'm 18 years old. By the time you read this, I'll be dead.
It was a warm April night on the California coast. Clay turned his deep brown eyes toward the night sky -- all those millions of stars and not a cloud in sight. Everything was beautiful. Just the way he wanted it.
I don't blame anyone who tried to tell me otherwise, but I know I've always been an abomination. A half-breed. I can see it every time I look in the mirror, the way my face is misshapen in these weird, ugly little ways. I don't even know how to describe it. There aren't any words to describe something that shouldn't exist.
The brisk air was something Clay would miss. If it was even possible to miss anything in the afterlife or whatever, anyway. He tried hard to smile and enjoy those last few breaths of sweet fresh air. That warm, perfect temperature blowing against his skin. Though he always hated his smile, and he hated the naturally bronze tone of his skin.
Look, I'm not killing myself because I'm ugly. I'm killing myself because I should never have been born. My Korean mom and my white dad should never have been together. Dad proved that when he ran out the way he did. And Mom... well, she knows what happened. I don't blame either one of them for doing what they did. Like I said, it had to happen. It should've happened sooner.
Clay kept on walking along that trail he knew so well. Wistfully, he thought back to all those summers when he'd walk out there with his dad. Every year, they'd pack a lunch and hike out to Harmony Cliffs together.
I've heard all about how being a half-breed makes me "special". I'm "unique". A "rare gem". Bullshit. It's all just a fancy way of saying I'm alone.
Clay kept admiring the night sky, and just for a moment, he accidentally did the one thing he swore he wouldn't do: he looked back. And there was the sleepy little town of De Lilla, only a pinprick of light a couple of miles away.
Just a teenage freak, all alone in a town so small that it probably shouldn't exist either. Not even worth the trouble of shooting up, like those nutjobs in the news.
Clay got back on track and kept walking, faintly surprised to notice how everything looked so different at night. Still, he knew the way by heart. He kept on walking down the old familiar dirt path, which led to that old familiar wooden fence.
The world is so messed up now, who'd want to be part of it? Who could possibly make it a better place? Even if I wanted to, how am I supposed to do anything when no job or college would accept me?
Clay stopped. Even in the dim moonlight, he could see that the fence's opening was blocked off. He brought his flashlight in for a closer look, and very clearly read "POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS" written in big black letters on the yellow tape.
So I'm just gonna fade away. Like I was never here. And no one will care, because I never should have been here at all.
Clay climbed over the fence. He was already going to kill himself, what's the worst that could happen? Clay took the note out of his pocket and left it under a rock by the fence, careful to make sure someone could see it.
Then he heard something.
He heard a song. He couldn't make out any words, just a melody.
Clay kept walking down the old path. He finally came upon the cliffs themselves, where he had come with his father so many times. And there was that breathtaking view of the ocean, with reflections of starlight dancing in the waves. In the back of his mind, Clay knew that he should throw himself over the cliff like he had planned to do.
Instead, Clay's feet led him down another path to the north. Down the slope carved into the cliff wall. Toward the beach. Toward that mezzo soprano voice singing the sweet lullaby.
Clay's feet grew heavy as every step sunk into the sand. His muscles went faint with exertion. His eyes strained to see anything in the darkness. He could only hear that lullaby. Yet Clay continued to drag himself toward the heavenly voice that seemed to grow louder.
Finally, Clay came upon a tide pool. And then he saw Her.
As she repeated that lilting melody, the young woman reclined in the tide pool. Her clear white skin seemed to glow in the moonlight. Her long red hair rippled around her, glistening in the water. Clay faintly registered that this was the first time he had ever seen an actual woman naked, just before she looked straight at him.
"I'm sorry, I--" Clay couldn't even finish that sentence. Nor could he look away. The young woman had coral pink lips that curved upwards into a warm smile, as if he had been expected. Her eyes were so unnaturally green that they shone in the darkness, commanding attention. She had a timeless sort of beauty, such that it would be impossible to guess what her age might be.
"Who are you?" Clay asked.
She did not answer, but instead stood up and walked to the very edge of the tide pool. The strange beauty seemed to project such a comforting air that Clay didn't feel the least bit ashamed or afraid as he walked toward her sweet smile and her open arms.
She held him. Embraced him. Kissed him. Clay couldn't feel her heart beating or her breath pulsing or her blood rushing, he could only feel her warmth. He pressed the kiss deeper. He probed her mouth with his tongue. He kissed her cheek, her jaw, her neck, and was rewarded with a gentle sigh. All the while, he held her waist tight against him while slowly running a hand down her back. Down to the curve of her waist. And as he moved that hand down to squeeze her round, firm backside, he heard a satisfied gasp right next to his ear.
Clay could feel the divine warmth of her hands somewhere on the back of his head, guiding him down. He left a trail of kisses on her flawless ivory skin, finding bliss in every moment his flesh touched hers. She guided him between her breasts, such perfect handfuls that it seemed like they were made to be fondled. They even had clear pink nipples that protruded straight outward, as if begging for his touch.
She arched her back as he took hold of those wonderful breasts, doing his best to gently massage them toward the point of those erect tips. He heard her soft moans, felt her flesh quiver, tasted her skin, felt her long fingers dig into his hair as he kissed ever downward along her smooth belly. Clay was always so afraid that his first time would be awkward and embarrassing, but all of his anxieties were forgotten as she urged him ever further toward those slender thighs.
Her pussy was entirely smooth, with lips that blossomed outward as if to welcome Clay inside. He dove right in. Clay had no idea how to move his head or his tongue or his lips, so he frantically moved every which way in the desperate hope that he was pleasing her. Her cries of pleasure and the bucking movement of her hips spurned him on.
The both of them seemed to be floating adrift as she pulled herself around to face away from Clay. She straddled him, with her gleaming wet pussy pressed into his face. He could faintly feel his pants being unzipped, just before he felt a warm and radiant grip around his hard member. It was throbbing, aching for attention.
"Ah! Be careful." he whispered. "No one's... ever... ooh."
He felt a warm, moist sensation all over the head of his cock. His length was only average, but he was good and thick around (or so he had read online), and every last bit of him was erect and pulsing. Clay felt himself grow even harder -- painfully, blissfully so -- as she slowly and deliberately took his manhood into her mouth, all the way down to the hilt.
At the sensation of her warm lips moving up and down his length, Clay grabbed her ass tighter, pulling that moist shaven pussy to his mouth. Clay moaned and gasped into her, all while lapping up every last drop of sweet pleasure she could produce. He felt surrounded by the tremors of rapture spreading through her thighs.
Clay had no idea how long they were caught up in each other like that, tangled in a circle of bliss. He tried to fight through the building tension in his loins, working harder to dig with his tongue deeper and deeper as she felt her mouth move faster and faster. He didn't even come up for breath. His nose was flooded with her scent, his mouth was covered in her sex, and he never came up for breath.
He felt light. Clay felt spasms all through his body.
***
Clay coughed violently as his eyes flew open.
"Easy, easy" said a female voice. Was that an accent? It was hard to tell over the sound of his own coughing.
"Everything's okay," the voice reassured him. "Just try to breathe normally. There you go."
As Clay's vision cleared, he registered that he was on his back, looking up at the night sky. It felt like there was sand beneath him.
"Please, try not to move," said the voice. He could hear a subtle kind of Latina accent there. "How are you feeling?"
Clay had finally regained enough of his senses to see a woman kneeling beside him. A cop, judging from the uniform. Definitely a Latina woman, maybe in her early thirties. Clay tried to take a normal breath and immediately groaned out loud.
"Chest pains?" she asked. He nodded. "CPR will do that to you. It's okay. Does it feel like anything's broken?"
"I... I don't know," Clay rasped out.
"There's an ambulance on the way," the cop told him. Sure enough, there were sirens growing louder. "We'll get you all checked out. Can you tell me your name?"
He gave a few labored breaths. "Clayton," he rasped. "Clayton Dawes. Clay."
