Purple Cowboy & The Princess

The Meeting

I am on Holiday in a quiet European coastal town. It’s a beautiful, warm day so I put on hiking shorts a purple t-shirt and flip flops and walk down to the shore. I look out at a beautiful white sand beach. Clear, blue-green water rhythmically massages the sand with a soothing whoosh as the sky takes a deep breath and exhales. It is virtually deserted.

My eye notices a beautiful, lithesome brunette, walking along the shoreline to my right. She will pass in front of me, and, if I time it right I can “accidently” walk into her path about 50 meters away. Her long dark hair lifts softly from her left cheek and reveals sensual black eyes. She is wistful, looking toward the sea and oblivious to my presence. Something glimmers on her cheek — a splash of sea water? — a tear? — I feel her sadness and, shaking my head, say softly, “no, no, little one” — She is too close to Dragon’s Cove — an inlet of the sea where the feared “CrocShark” hunts for food. Fish are only an appetizer for this huge, ugly monster that resembles a cross between a crocodile and a shark. CrocShark has been seen riding a wave onto the shore to grab a dog or goat that wandered too close . Rumor has it that this nightmarish visitor is responsible for at least two of the towns missing children and perhaps one adult.

Suddenly my blood runs cold! I feel a chill run down each arm. I see a big swell forming that will break over the rocks bordering the cove’s inlet creating a small tidal wave effect that will push 3 feet of water 20 to 30 feet over the current shoreline! My sand princess is unaware of her danger. I shout, “Hey! — Hey! — RUN!!! — GET AWAY” — but my words are being blown over my shoulder by the increasing wind. I kick off my flip flops and start running barefoot through the loose sand, grabbing a coiled boat docking rope from a nearby post. Princess has seen her impending danger and turns to run from the shore — but the long brown wrap she wears around her shapely hips and flat stomach is grabbing at her legs. She trips and falls and the water is going to engulf her — And then I see IT!! — A shadow at first, rising with the water, two large dorsal fins with what appears to be scales like armor protecting it’s back — and it is riding the wave with princess as its destination. .

Princess struggles to get up and run, falling to her knees every other step, afraid of the water but unaware of her bigger danger. I fun faster, my lungs beginning to scream at me, my thighs burning but pushing me onward toward the impending collision point. Princess looks up and sees me, a mad man running and screaming toward her, but she sees that I am looking past her and she looks back and screams in panic. Water crashes into princess and CrocShark lands beside her as she rolled quickly to her left and let the wave push her up the shore. CrocShark had missed the human leg he aimed for, but he had grabbed brown wrap and was pulling it still wrapped snugly around princess’s waist back into his cove. I splashed through the receding water and plunged my large hunting knife into the soft exposed hinged area on the right side of CrocShark’s mouth. The monster shook his head violently left, then right , then left tossing princess around like a brown piece of seaweed. Princess was swallowing water, gasping for air and could no long struggle with the ever tightening tie strps that bound her wrap. CrocShark opened his mouth to shake out the knife, and I shoved the coiled rope into his mouth and the wave pulled him back into the sea.

Princess was limp, barely breathing. I picked her up, noticing how light she was. She put her arms around my neck and grasped me with a strength incongruent with her lithesome appearance. She looked panicky toward the sea, crying and saying, “Please, please — thank you , thank you” — Relief flooded out with her tears as I moved her to a safe spot where the white sand was packed and smooth. She did not want to let go of my neck. Two beachcombers that saw the excitement ran over with blankets and towels and made a soft pallet. I pulled her clinched arms from my neck as they helped me get her on the pallet. I covered princess’s body with a large beach towel to ward off the sea breeze chill. The two locals could not wait to run to tell their villiage they had in fact seen the big monster. AND, also an older stranger run directly into the “mouth of the storm” and pull a princess from certain death.

We were alone. I asked princess if I could look to see if she had suffered any bites from that unusual predator. I took a quick intake of breath as I saw, for the first time up close, the smooth olive skin of her belly, the inward curve of her waist above her wrap and bikini bottom line. My eyes lingered too long on her small full breasts as they rose and fell softly as she breathed. I smiled as the purple design on her white halter bikini top sparkled in the sun’s rays. I envied the droplets of water balanced on the goose bumped round tops before breaking into rivulets that cascaded into her cleavage.

I pulled the wrap back to reveal equally tan and olive muscular legs, wet and sandy with her sinewy thigh muscles still quivering from their efforts. But, there were no marks — not a single scratch — not even abrasions from the sand. Between the powerful wave and determined CrocShark, princess had barely touched the ground during her short, frantic struggle for survival. I touched her right thigh just above her knee. “”Shhhh. You’re ok’ — I couldn’t help but notice a spark of electricity that tingled my hand. Princess shivered and her eyes suddenly widened and were still. I moved my hand and began to put the wrap back –“NO!” she exclaimed. “Take it off! Please! — I can’t stand it! It was trying to give me to that beast!” she cried.

“Ok. Ok — Shhhh — we’ll take it off. You’re going to be ok”.

I saw something glimmering in the sunlight by the shoreline. As I got up to investigate, princess said — “No, don’t go from me, please” — She had an unusual accent. Russian, maybe, I thought.

“Shhh. I’ll be right back — just going to get my knife. After all — it’s what saved both of us”

I cut the tie strings that were beginning to make deepening impressions on her skin. As I pressed my left index and second finger into smooth soft skin where her firm buttocks curved outward and lifted her wrap so I could cut the string, I noticed a different kind of energy wave — more heat than electricity. As the string gave way to my knife I tossed the top of the wrap over her legs so she was lying on top of the pallet and wrap and the full beauty of her toned body was displayed in the brilliant sun, covered only by that purple accented top and matching bottom tied at each side by a thin string. I offered my right hand. She put hers in mine, and I pulled her to her feet.

She stumbled a bit, still a bit unsure on her glycogen depleted leg muscles and lightheaded from the adrenalin rush. I almost felt guilty as I put a hand on each side of her waist and steadied her. Maybe I held her too long. I noticed that my hands nearly touched in back and my thumbs were no more than 4 inches apart in front. She had put her left hand on my right shoulder for balance. Once steady on her feet, neither of us moved our hands. She looked up at me as though seeing me for the first time. I smiled and loosened my grip, moving my left hand to my side but leaving my right hand on her waist, the baby finger edge resting on her smooth rounded hip bone.

Princess looked at me and I thought, “Yep, I’m that old darling”. But, she moved her left hand up to the right side of my face, cupping my jaw bone and gently wiping sand (or salt) from my cheek under my right eye.

“What is your name?” “Are you my knight?” “Are you my friend?” A tear squeezed from her left eye and rolled gently down her cheek. I felt her again — this time it wasn’t sadness — it was something else — gratitude? Love? Relief?

“My name is Mac.

“HI, Mac, my name is Raya.”

Does their story continue? If you like and want to follow the Purple Cowboy and his escapades, click the heart below and share this with your friends. Sticks and Stones (Words can break a life) continues this weekend.