Silvery leaves shimmered in the distance. The moonlight glistened through her window and found its way to her, accentuating the red shell necklace that hung down between her breasts. She understood the power of her breasts and she was able to tap into the dominance of her cleavage with a flare, to achieve the desired result, allowing her to scintillate almost anyone, anytime, anywhere, with a vigor, so the world belonged to her. She used her femininity to her advantage, and she wasn’t going to be left behind, as plenty of smart women were exploiting their female sexuality because they knew this could be a commanding asset. The red shell necklace was an authentic Native South American craft, created from spiny oyster beads, crab shells, red dyed starfish and pearls and when she wore it across her chest, it created the perfect colorful summery look.
There was something magic about this necklace, as when she wore it, she always felt protected from all harm. Her mother gave her this necklace on her sixteenth birthday and told her that she was an Indian warrior princess from the Yanomami tribe from Brazil in the Amazon rainforest. Her mom told her that during the 1980s, these Brazilian goldminers invaded their land, murdered many of her tribe and poisoned their water. Her mom was able to escape, and she felt that it was because the necklace protected her, so she taught her daughter never to be shy, and let the world know that she is a woman and that she should celebrate her sexuality.
Written for Michelle of Putting My Feet in the Dirt Weekly Story Starters challenge.