The Treasure
The following story is going back to my beginning in Sci-fi. I have no idea how long it will be. Or if there may be more chapters. I just have no idea. I was up at 3am and an odd half-woke dream decided to stay with me. Now you are forced to read and hopefully enjoy my twisted mind.
All humans and creatures are over 18 years of age. All humans and creatures are figments of my mind and are not meant to represent any creatures that walk our earth. If one does, please send me an email.
Finding Treasure
Drew walked along the rock-strewn beach with his head down. This was his second date with Belinda (who names their child Belinda after the date 1910?). 'They" decided that for a second date, a trip to the beach to look for sea glass would be fun. It was the hunt for her 'treasures' that was her side passion and hobby.
Admittedly, Drew was not enthused. He had spent multiple years living near Newport Beach CA when he was a teen. He was by far the poorest child in his Jr. HS class. But it was his mother's dream (after his divorce from his father) to live and hobnob with the rich and famous. He did learn to surf, boogie board and view the young women in tiny bikinis as he stumbled into puberty.
He had his own quirks and quickly earned his first phobia,
beach sand
. The crap gets everywhere.
His first sexual experience was at a bonfire at the beach with a girl two years older than him, fingering her while she jacked him in his shorts. They both bled for days. Not bad bleeding, but his dick looked someone had run a belt sander over his wood while it was hard.
So fast forward 40+ years and his vans (slip on boat shoes to those of you NOT from California) were full of sand granules. He was balancing on the rounded, hand sized rocks as he wandered from water's edge to the edge of the exposed rock field. He picked up small and large pieces of the sea glass 'treasures' wedged between the wave exposed rocks and tucked them in to his grab bag.
All to suck-up to his date.
Three days of storm had created the perfect hunting ground for her "treasures" to be discovered and claimed. He was more than one hundred feet in front of her now. She had a keener eye, but he was willing to shift and move large or small rocks to get the bounty. He had been smart enough to bring nitrile gloves, so he did not have to spend days getting the grains from under his fingernails.
As he swung back towards the water on his methodical search for treasure, he noted an odd white line in the sand. It was located right at the transition of the field of exposed rocks and the wet packed sand being lapped at by the surging and retreating waves.
Being the good suck-up, he did not waiver from his search for treasure. He walked with head down, sweeping eyes back and forth over rocks and cervices that lay in his search path.
Finally, he ended the short leg of his search and stood over the white line in the sand. If he had to guess, it was only a quarter thick and eight inches long. As he reached down and grabbed hold of it, he realized that it had 3 or 4 inches buried in the sand. It also had more weight than he was expecting.
He quickly presumed he had found someone's white cell phone that had been lost on the beach. So, he pulled it up and shook the gloomy sand from its surface. The shaking cause sparkles to streak along the surface of the presumed protective case. It seemed odd to Drew, since the sun was cloud covered and no sunlight peaked down.
Drew knew he was going to regret his next move, but since his feet were already soaked, he walked out towards the soft waves. He bent and swished the 'treasure,' in the lapping water to clean off the last elements of the clinging sand.
He was looking at the object in the muted evening light as he walked back to the rock-strewn field.
Drew was confused, it was not a cell phone or at least one he had ever seen. It was white on all sides. He could feel faint texture but to Drew, it was just a white slab of some dense material. It had rounded corners and edges like a cell, but again, not a cell.
"Did you find treasure?" Drew heard from over his shoulder. It startled him and he jumped. Not a norm for Drew to be snuck up on, even with his aged hearing.
He turned and smiled at Belinda, "Found something, but hardly treasure." He commented and then slid it into his back pocket.
"More an enigma that will be explored tomorrow, back home, where I can get a closer look." He commented while smiling at her.
Her return smile was infectious, and she commented, "let us get something to eat and take it up to my place. I have wine I would like to share with you."
***
Drew made it back to his house after a quick morning sexual bout that left her face down on the bed moaning and him proud that the 'old man' still had it.
He was saddened though, at the overall experience. He was finding that women in his demographic (50's into 60's) were angry and had turned more conservative. Belinda had gone this route last night. Talking about politics and the desire to return to a fictionalized version of the 1950's rhetoric. All Drew could do was nod and hope she did not actually ask him to respond.
While the women in his demographic enjoyed periodic time with a different sex, there was the negative downside. Drew was expected to open doors and pay for all the dates cost. While he had been trained correctly by his father regarding his responsibilities, he had started to contemplate the inequality.
Last night was a good example. He paid for the food, and they walked up to her small apartment. He uncorked her wine and poured two glasses, while she went to get into something 'more comfortable.' He was walking back to her bedroom when she stepped out with an old college sweatpants and sweatshirt on.
He was taken aback.
While they had been intimate before, he was expecting a little more of her dressing up to be sexy. While he did not expect quid pro quo, he was hoping that her amour had blossomed in her search for treasures. He had just spent the last couple of hours sharing in her passion for discarded trash that had been ground smooth by wave action (sea glass).
For Drew, their intimate moments were tepid at best. She loved oral for her, which Drew happily accommodated. Oral for him was something she did not enjoy performing, and it showed. Missionary was typical and doggy for her was adventurous.
Do not go anywhere near her back door, which was a mistake he had made during their first encounter. Her reaction was...interesting. That is where Drew found out about all the 'perverted' things her Ex had tried to get her to perform.
To say the least, plain, boring vanilla sex was like eating his normal yogurt in the morning. It was good for you but brought about irking feelings at best.
Once home, he emptied his grab bag in the utility sink and did a quick rinse of his grab bag. He pulled open his gym bag and emptied pockets before carefully shoving his clothes into the washer. He was very careful to make sure all that stupid sand went into the washer and not on the floor.
The stuff breeds.
He settled into his normal weekend routine. He had set the white 'slab' on top of the pile of bills he needed to pay and wrote his lists for the day.
During his more boring duties he kept looking at the white slab and wanting to explore it. He kept promising himself that after responsibilities, comes fun.