Author: Ziha PM
What if Tarzan was rescued as a young teenager instead of an adult? How tamed would he be at twenty-six? And what about Jane?Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Humor - Words: 1,411 - Reviews: 8 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 2 - Published: 08-08-04 - id: 2002429
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Author's note: I've been reading some Tarzan stories and thought this might be interesting. Let Me Know. Sorry for my many mistakes.
He was at yet another one of his uncle's society dinners. It seemed to him that he spent the majority of his time at these things… socializing…making and keeping contacts…seeing and being seen. It irritated him beyond belief, as did many of the women. Not all women, truth be told he idolized women … enjoyed their company and friendship … had even lusted over more then a few. He just couldn't stand the ones his uncle chose to surround himself with. Most of the women his uncle knew were there to build up a rich mans ego, to look pretty on his arm. None of the men they were with ever seemed to notice that they were always looking for a richer catch.
If he had one more insipid debutant, old man's mistress or society wife looking at him like he was their next conquest … next sugar daddy … adjust their shirt to flash him their cleavage he was going to do something … something … well … something much bigger then when he accidentally on propose pored his drink down Mrs. William Marsden blouse at a state dinner. She had been pissed, his reaction wasn't what she been expecting. He didn't have to guess what the old bat wanted. It had taken him a second or two to figure out what was going on. But really, here is only one reason to start rubbing a man's … well he was only sixteen … so really a boy's … how to put it … …dingle hopper… under a dinning room (that's full of people) table.
His uncle had warned that women would only be interested in him because of his money. Then he turned sixteen. He not only grew seven inches but also gained fifty pounds of muscle overnight. But no matter how masculine his body became. His face remained the same. His face remained as beautiful as his mothers. His aunt informed his uncle that his face and body garneted that even if he didn't have a penny to his name. He could still have any woman he wanted.
Who would have guessed that it wasn't his money, his face, or his body that women were attracted to? But his notoriety! They were all interested in being seen with the man the papers called juggle boy, king of the jungle or worse Tarzan. Tarzan!!! If he ever found out who thought up that name he was going to kill them. And enjoy doing it. His name was John. Yet he couldn't count the number of…enjoyable situations that had been ruined by a woman moaning Tarzan instead of his name. Talk about a turn off.
The only thing he did to become famous was survive. His parents took him on a trip to Africa for his seventh birthday. They were flying over the Congo when their personal jet started to have problems. The planes navigation and radio systems failed first. Then engine failure forced them to crash land. His father was the only other person who survived and that was only for a short time.
It took his father weeks to recover from his injuries and as soon as he did they stared to walk. At first his father assured him they would find a way out of the jungle. But the longer they were lost. The deeper they walked into the jungle the more discouraged his father became. Soon John Clayton had stopped promising his son that they would be rescued. It wasn't until his death that he stated to make promises again.
Eight months after they crashed his dad was attacked by a gorilla and died soon after. His father promised him before his death that someone would find him and take him home. It was almost six years before someone finally did. He survived because his dad not only taught him the skills he needed to make it on his own. But gave him hope that the night terror he was living in wouldn't last forever.
He was rescued when he was twelve. His life stopped being about fighting to live and became a fight against reporter's cameras and questions. So what, he spent most of his child hood living alone in an African jungle. He was still a normal guy…kind of. He didn't want his girlfriends to like him because he was the king of the jungle but for himself. He had even told a few of them some of the more disgusting thing he had done to survive.
Acouple of his more vile stories had turned up in the tabloids and then faded away. A few stories have captured societies attention and have grown into legends over the years. The story he is asked about the most is his friendship with the gorillas that lived around were he had been found. He always told the truth. They got used to me being around. A few were friendly but most of them ignored me. So I ignored them. And for some reason people found it…how did they always describe his time in the jungle…his friendship with apes… oh' yes… …fascinating. Especially women. He should be use to it by now. But the disappointment and unwanted attention was still hard to live with.
He was being sexually harassed and was beyond uncomfortable. Why did he agree to dress like this? His air way was being constricted by a ridicules bow tie. His perfectly tailored tuxedo made it hard to lift his arms and impossible to adjust a much more valuable extremity to a comfortable position. His Italian shoes pinched his toes and made his arches ache. It didn't matter that he had been wearing shoes for years. It didn't matter how expensive the leather was. Shoes that were soft enough to be comfortable did not exist. So he bent down and started to take the damn things off.
Everyone knew he usually went with out shoes. Which is the reason he had another irritating nickname…the bare foot tycoon. And if by some small chance, someone here didn't know who he was. They would be told all about his past and all his little oddities. He learned a long time ago that people quickly get over shocking behavior if there is an interesting reason for it.
He dropped his first shoe on the floor with a thud and a groan. He knew he was being ridiculous. Feeling sorry for himself over things anyone else would consider a blessings. He had survived the jungle, an experience that made him a better person. Even if was a little odd. The women…a few two many was more enjoyable then none. As for the money…well, these parties were worth the freedom it gave him. The money also enables him to help others in need. His uncle looked at his charity work as a passing phase but it was his life. However, he wanted... no needed something more. He just wasn't sure what it was… yet.
John stopped his day dreaming and started to remove his second shoe when he noticed a pair of very sensible evening shoes stop in front of him. When he started to look up he was surprised and excited to realize that the feet encased by the ugly shoes belonged to the sexiest legs he had ever seen. He was a little upset when a very plain black dress ruined his enjoyment of the view as soon as he reached her knees. But was pleased when he finally saw the woman's beautiful face.
Even though her face was contorted into a scowl. When he noticed her vibrant red hair, he couldn't help but wonder if it was that color everywhere. Couldn't stop himself from speculating about her body. What did it look like under her shapeless gown? The thought made him smile. A smile that got a lot bigger and started to laugh when she rolled her eyes at him and said in an confident, irritated voice… "Sir, if you don't put your shoes back on. I'm going to have to ask you leave the premises."