A Shark Love Story

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Disclaimer: The following, while extremely arousing, is for EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY. Seriously.

Other Disclaimer: If one or more of your brothers is a shark and you think your chapter is right for being featured on Shark Week, immediately contact the authorities at Discovery and let them know, but don’t sound too desperate.

Not much is known about the mating habits of the great white shark. But based on the few clues we have, scientists have come up with a possible scenario for how it all goes down.

We Begin.

It was a calm day when Ellie first arrived at her destination. The tropical shallow waters off the shore of D’nalsi-Tarf offered a warm welcome that she had not experienced in several years. It didn’t take long for her to notice that the party had already started. It was mating season and everyone seemed a-frenzy. The bump and grind atmosphere was palpable; she could literally feel it thanks to an organ called the lateral line that ran down both sides of her body. There were other sharks like her everywhere, talking, drinking, and dancing. She was used to being alone in colder and deeper waters, away from other sharks. But Ellie was not interested in mating. She wasn’t that kind of girl. She had something different in mind for this journey.

Shark Week was coming up and this would be the year she finally gets her big break into show business. She could wait here and spring into action when the opportunity presented itself. She had to remain diligent in watching for the camera, all the more reason not to get caught up in the gathering’s main festivity: fucking. Maybe she could get one of those electric tags and be forever followed by a paparazzi of researchers wanting to monitor “all of this,” she thought as she wriggled seductively to herself. “Or maybe I will get my own reality show!” The thought sent a shiver down her dorsal fin. It was the kind of shiver that she felt when she picked up the scent of a dying fish or skinny dipping woman on her period. She became lost in her fantasy of living a scripted life of feigned candidness. In her mind, she imagined throwing wine on bitches with big, fake hair and even bigger, faker tits. She spent the rest of the afternoon fantasizing, utterly uninterested in the giant soup of sex, drugs, and alcohol taking place only a bleeding seal’s swim away.

It wasn’t until her second day at the veritable shit show of a spring break that she noticed Bronson. He was like a perfect wild stallion, if horses could go underwater and swim in a masculine and attractive way. An extremely impressive specimen, Bronson was the longest and thickest man she had ever seen. Each swish of his mighty tail propelled him quickly and effortlessly through the water. It was like watching ballerinas gracefully dance while simultaneously murdering small animals whose graphic deaths would be hard to watch if not for the fact that they were being performed so beautifully.

“Out of the way, peasant!” Bronson shouted.

Not changing course in the least, Bronson continued and rammed the shit out of the guy like it was nothing. The smell of the random dude’s blood in the water enticed several of the hungrier sharks to immediately start going to town on him. The peasant shark was dead/eaten. The sight of Bronson crippling and causing the untimely death of another man without so much as batting a nictitating eye membrane made Ellie wish it were her that he was ramming. Ellie remembered white sharks don’t have nictitating membranes over their eyes, but even if they did, she knew Bronson wouldn’t have batted one. This was a totally new feeling for her.

Still consumed with thoughts of Bronson, Ellie spent the rest of the afternoon running through potential episodes of her reality show. The synopsis for each episode would quickly devolve into her and Bronson making passionate love and about three minutes of actual plot. Season 1 would end by Ellie being forced to choose between mating with Bronson or his long lost and mustachioed twin brother. Spoiler alert: She chooses both and they Eiffel Tower her. Just as she was picturing the episode’s (as well as her own) climax, she was snapped back to reality, surprised to see Bronson.

“Meet me tonight over by those rocks that look like a giant dong,” Bronson said in a voice as thick and deep as Ellie hoped other parts of him would be.

As quickly as he showed up, Bronson sauntered nonchalantly off while at the same time slaughtering five seals at once like it was nothing, not even eating them, doing it just because he could. He faded off into the distance where Ellie could no longer see him. She was elated! She was excited! She had never felt so alive! Though completely under water, she was somehow wetter than she had been not ten seconds earlier.

Being more concerned with her future and how she could achieve stardom and success had taken any thought of fun and excitement out of her life. But now Bronson was all she could think about. She waited with bated, aquatic breath for night to fall.

The sun was just starting to disappear over the horizon when Ellie arrived at the rendezvous point. She watched another lady shark swimming away from the location as she rounded the corner of the dong rock. The lady shark swam as if her rear end was very sore. Bronson was already there.

“I’ve been anxiously waiting all day to come,” Ellie confessed with a slight emphasis on the last word of her sentence.

“Okay,” Bronson replied.

They immediately began railing.

After about two hours of furious fucking, a black tipped reef shark strolled by, mistaking the churning water, thrashing, and continuous moaning to be a dying seal or sea turtle. What that reef shark saw taking place in front of him stopped them in his tracks. To keep water passing over his gills he had to start moving again, but he was still in awe. The power and violence of Bronson’s titanic thrusting mixed with the sheer pleasure apparent on Ellie’s physiologically expressionless face were truly a sight to behold. It was as if the one true god of the seas, Aquaman, had demanded the perfect piece of maritime art be created so as to be a glorious reminder to the rest of the world how delicately beautiful, yet totally badass this planet’s oceans truly are. The reef shark quickly rubbed one out and left.

In one of the few moments she wasn’t vocalizing her ecstasy, Ellie heard the distant sound of a boat motor. Scientists! Shark Week!

“What?! Now?! Why does it have to be now?!” she thought while being thrashed about. She had to take advantage of what could be her only chance at stardom. The boat, which was indeed full of scientists, came to a stop just above the two sharks. Amidst the culmination of evolutionary triumph in which she was involved, Ellie didn’t notice the proximity. As she was gasping for water in between insurmountable waves of pleasure, she spotted a strange device. It was a specially designed apparatus meant to capture the up ‘til now secret and mysterious act of white shark “love” making. But now what was supposed to be the vehicle of her breakthrough to fame and success now found her at her most vulnerable, her most exposed.

“Never would I have pictured it this way!” she would have thought if not blasted by another onslaught from Bronson. All her life she had wanted nothing more than to make it big on the screens of millions. But this wasn’t her plan at all. As Bronson began to chum all over her pointed shark face, she realized what her true destiny was. She wasn’t meant for E! or Bravo or Discovery at all. No more would she aspire to the life of a mentally handicapped bimbo. Her true calling was the field of adult shark entertainment. It wasn’t the big screen of cinema or even the small screen of TV that she was born to grace. Rather it was the even smaller screen of male sharks’ laptops where she was meant to be seen doing things with her body that could only be described in acronyms that other sharks would know.

Bronson turned and swam off without so much as a word or glance at Ellie. He was swimming towards another girl who had rounded the same corner Ellie had turned just a few hours prior. She didn’t care (not as much as Bronson didn’t care, but still). She had renewed purpose in her life and just as she was about to start working it for the camera in unspeakable ways, the apparatus was retracted as quickly and unnoticeably as it had descended. But the deed had been done. She knew that as long as that footage aired on Shark Week, her life would change forever.

On the surface, the scientists couldn’t believe what they held in their hands. With this new discovery they would surely be the champions of Shark Week. Their footage would get played every year during the same sacred week, forever immortalized. It was the Holy Grail. But this Grail was no chalice; it was a flash drive containing fornication on a monstrous level unseen by modern science. At the same time proud and triumphant, the scientists felt something else deep inside. This wasn’t their first discovery. They knew what could happen when the right footage gets into the wrong hands. What they had recorded was a beautiful demonstration of nature’s glory that brought them to the verge of both tears and orgasm, but more than that it was a mysterious ritual that the rest of the world knew nothing about. Up until this point they hadn’t considered how the rest of the world would receive this.

“Society just isn’t ready yet. Sharks deserve better,” one said to the rest of the group. They all agreed.

“We have taken advantage of these majestic animals for too long,” another pointed out.

With only a look, a silent nod, and a single tear, each scientist knew what had to be done. In a moment perfectly silent and still, one of the scientists chucked the flash drive over the side of the boat. It flew as if in slow motion. Ellie noticed the small shadow moving over the surface of the water. The sound of the small device hitting the surface of the water was a bittersweet note, as if from a melancholy, classical piece that doesn’t end with a resolving chord but rather a lingering cry asking for a response but secretly hopes it won’t come. It signified both the end of the scientists’ quest and also the end to Ellie’s new beginning that hadn’t even started.

As the object landed just in front of her nose, Ellie’s future flashed before her eyes. It was as simple as a single flash drive with a piece of white tape with red marker on it that read “Shark Fucking.” Before she could react it was already too late. It was gone. Then again, what was she going to do if she had been able to react more quickly? Grab it? What then, hand it back to the scientists? The item that contained the key to her new life had already fallen away, passing a depth lower even than her heart sunk.

Image via Shutterstock

  1. GirthBrooks

    How long did it take you to type this up with your fins? Is it difficult?

    6 years ago at 3:14 pm
    1. SharkWeekTFM

      When you get that spark (this applies o anything) you can lose hours of time and not realize quite how much time has actually passed.
      In general it’s a quicker at first but tightening it up to completion is a bit slower.

      6 years ago at 3:42 pm
      1. JohnnieWalker_Blue

        Same thing I told the lady when we tried butt stuff for the first time

        6 years ago at 10:42 pm
      1. SharkWeekTFM

        Totally unrelated…. if you haven’t read all the Frat Romance Novels go do that. Or even if you havn’t read them in a while, go check them out again. Good stuff. RIP in peace Bacon.

        6 years ago at 12:52 pm
  2. BeerandPizza

    The only other time Im brought to the verge of tears and orgasm is when I hear the Star Spangled Banner.

    6 years ago at 4:21 pm