Moon Dog Went Surfing

Posted by on January 19th, 2018  •  0 Comments  • 

MOON dog Went Surfing

By D.S. Maiorca

 

Pipeline danced through the air from a distant transistor radio and the salt breeze wisped through the sparse dune grass. There were a-framed waves to be had, and his pack was taking them, in the moment: one last ride at this beach, before they moved on.

Cashed, he lay back basking in the warmth of the sun, its rays warming his toned body. To nap or maybe look for a Betty — so much daylight, so little time. His greatest concern for the day was to have one like last night. He could still smell her scent, could still taste her. She was still all over him. She was boss. Girls like that only came along every so often, but they were worth trying to get again.

“What a night,” he thought. He couldn’t even remember her name, if he ever had known it. He’d spent most of the day looking for her, or someone like her. A nondescript Betty, there were a lot of femmes at this beach, but it couldn’t be just anyone, he had his type, she had to have some curves. Skinny girls didn’t have enough meat on their bones, and if she was too big, she didn’t feel right.

He knew it was time to move down the coast. He thought the youngsters might howl a bit — for two of them this had been their first beach since they joined — but he was the Alpha. Being Alpha meant it was his choice and no one would question that, or else they’d have to deal with the big dog. And none of his bros wanted that. He thought he’d lay back and enjoy the sun for a while then have the boys pack the woody up. Right now all he had to do was dream until dusk. He drifted off into a self-satisfied sleep.

“Yo Bra, the loces are starting a bonfire.” He has roused from his dreams by Slim, perhaps the fattest surfer ever. “There should be plenty uh action in a bit.”

“Toss me a beer, and I may forget you’re blocking my sun.” Slim grabbed a can from the cooler, throwing it to Moon Dog.

“Your Sun. The fat bastard’s blocking the whole sun,” shouted Dutch as he climbed the dune towards the group.

“It’s ok. I’ll go on a diet. Starting tomorrow I won’t really eat for a month.” They all laughed at Slim’s joke.

“You say that every month, Slim, and yet,” Dutch said rubbing Slim’s belly. “Nothing ever changes. Hell, Slim, I’m beginning to wonder if you’re not fat – just pregnant.”

“Dude, I just woke up,” Moon Dog barked, “and I’d like to keep my appetite.” He stood up. “Have the youngsters load the wagon. I’d like to hit the road right after the bonfire.”
“Already done, Dog,” Dutch said, gesturing towards the loaded cars.

“We sent them down to scout for Betties already,” added Slim.

Dog looked down the dunes at the bonfire, it was a shame to leave, he thought, but they’d been hunting this spot for a month now, and pretty soon their welcome would be worn. Besides, there were other beaches down the coast, where the femmes weren’t worried, and the waves were just as gnarly.

“Let’s hit the fire before the kids scare all the femmes away.” He said as he started down the dune. Dutch and Slim followed dutifully.

Then pinkish hues of sunset began to chase the daylight away while the flames from the fire reached out to kiss the coming night. The local guys had bailed on the bonfire, once the three of them showed. They knew the girls weren’t interested in anyone they saw every day. Traveling surfers seemed so exotic to small town girls — girls with stars in their eyes, who wanted to see the world, and find their prince. Girls who dreamt big dreams but knew they’d marry the local boys they had just chased away, the boys they called friend. Girls who knew their lives would never change.

Two more hours of small talk and then the real fun would begin, thought Moon Dog. The youngsters had already broken from the pack, they weren’t very particular, and would wander off with any girl that would go. Dutch was working it, chatting up a particularly tasty looking Betty. Moon Dog almost pulled rank, but decided to let Dutch have his fun. Slim was dancing wildly with a group, planning to grab whoever was closest when the time was right.
He hadn’t found his type, but had found two that would do. They walked back towards his car. The youngster had taken the woody, so he’d take the Chevy. A short drive to some place secluded and then he could really sink his teeth into things.

The Chevy growled as they tore away from the beach, he knew a little place higher up the dunes, a private place, where the full moon would be bitchin’. A few miles up the dunes, a bottle of cheap wine, a few lies and they were there.

The winds were starting to pick up as the as the full moon climbed into the night sky. He could see the distant waves crashing on the beach, greedily grabbing sand and pulling it, screaming, back to the sea. He knew the Betties were ready, their scents were so thick in the car he could taste them. Their panting and petting was fogging over the windows, he was breathless, as the moon reached its peak. And then the fun, the change began, his panting turned into ecstatic screaming, which turned into howls as he morphed. Their panting turned into terror as they realized that their lives would change, that they would end.

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