Bird Protection

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Copyright Oggbashan March 2005

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

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I wasn't paying attention to the announcements just before the coffee break. I heard the Chairman say something about the need to help the RSPB. I knew that RSPB stood for Royal Society for Protection of Birds. That was about all I knew. The only birds I was interested in did not have feathers. I thought I'd be able to talk to Heather during the coffee break.

The Chairman banged his gavel angrily.

"You weren't listening!" he shouted. "That does it! Anyone not volunteering to help with this project will forfeit their membership. We all have to help."

Now I was paying attention. I had only recently joined this Environmental Club because my friend George had told me there were some good-looking female members. There were and I was just beginning to get to talk to some of them. I didn't want to be ejected from the club now.

"After coffee I will produce the schedule," the chairman continued. "If the times are not suitable it is up to you to find someone to swap with. Our duties start at 6pm so if you are due to watching tonight you should move fast if that isn't feasible."

He threw the gavel down on the table and stalked off. We adjourned for coffee. I did get to talk to Heather. I talked to a lot of other angry people as well. The general opinion was that the Chairman was taking too much for granted. We might be environmentalists, or the others might be: I was there for the company not for the environment, but we had lives beyond our environmental concerns.

The Chairman pinned the hastily written schedule on the notice board. We all crowded round it. Heather was by my side and leaning against me in the crush. I was more conscious of her slim body pressing against mine than I was of the implications of the schedule. She had wriggled her head between the men blocking my view.

"Look, Derek," Heather hissed into my ear. "You are on for a night from midnight until 8am."

Then she giggled.

"I don't think you'll like your partner."

I still couldn't see the board.

"Who is it?"

"Alfred."

My heart sank. The club's worst bore and the oldest member. He could talk for his country without saying anything anyone wanted to hear. Eight hours with him would be torture. I couldn't exchange that duty. No one would willingly choose to spend time with Alfred.

"What about you?" I asked.

"I've got Sunday afternoon and evening from 1 o'clock to 9. With Janice."

"Oh."

What could I say? If Heather wasn't interested in me, Janice would be my next choice. Both of them were attractive. Both of them had intelligence and personality and important to me, a healthy scepticism about the fanatics in the club.

"What exactly are we supposed to be doing for the RSPB?" I asked.

"Looking after a rare bird's nest. You weren't listening, were you?"

"No. Were you?"

"No but Janice was. She told me just before you joined us."

"What's so important?"

"This pair of birds rarely nests in England. An egg-collector would pay thousands of pounds for the eggs. And the birds are rare anywhere. There are very few of them in the world."

"How do you know all that? From Janice?"

"No. I've just read it off the notice board."

The crowd was thinning. I could see the notice and my name bracketed with Alfred's. What had I done to annoy the Chairman? He barely knew me. And there was Alfred standing by the board looking as if he'd won a major lottery prize. He looked at me with his eyes shining.

"Derek," he squeaked, "We are honoured, you and I. Do you realise that we will be watching at the dawn of Earth Day? A significant day for the world and we will be doing our little part towards it."

"Is it?"

"Is it what, Derek?"

"Earth Day. I hadn't realised."

"It is. That very day and we shall see its dawn, here, in our countryside..."

"I suppose so."

"You don't share my excitement?"

Alfred looked hurt.

"I might be excited if there were to be something to see, Alfred. Dawn on Earth Day is much like any other dawn. I doubt that the Earth will even know that it is Earth Day."

"True, Derek, true. Earth Day is a man-made idea and a fairly recent one. Doesn't it thrill you that thousands of people throughout the world will be joining in the celebrations?"

"If they had something to celebrate, Alfred, I'd be surprised. I thought that Earth Day was about trying to stop damage and destruction of the environment..."

I thought that might stop Alfred. I might as well have tried to stop a charging elephant. Eventually Heather dragged me away with some excuse about a prior appointment. That lifted my spirits, not just because I was away from Alfred but because Heather cared enough to extricate me. I hadn't expected that.

I followed her out of the hall and across the road. She was moving fast.

"Where are we going?" I asked. My car was still in the hall's car park.

"To the Royal Oak," she replied. "You'll be safe from Alfred there. He's teetotal and vegan and they have a barbecue today."

That would deter Alfred. He gave teetotallers and vegans a bad name. I have known people who were one or the other or even both without being boring idiots. He'd drive a teetotaller to drink and a vegan to roast pork with crackling.

As we entered the pub Heather took my hand to drag me through the bar to a small room at the back. It was full of most of the desirable women from the club. We were greeted with ironic cheers.

"Well done, Heather," one of them shouted. "You saved one from Alfred."

I enjoyed that lunchtime. The women seemed as annoyed as I was about the Chairman's high-handedness. The roster had put women together except for married couples. The single men such as Alfred and me had the nighttime shifts. There were remarks such as 'sexist' and 'unfair' and several suggested whom they would like to share their duties with. I might have been surprised at the directness of the language except that I have two older sisters.

I managed to ask Heather for a date as we left. She didn't say yes; she didn't say no. She implied that it might be a possibility once the bird watching was over. I did get a peck on the cheek as she left and her hand stroked mine.

"Wait and see, Derek. I have plans for the next week or so, including Earth Day. You never know what might happen."

On the eve of Earth Day I prepared myself for the ordeal of a night with Alfred. I had my music player and earphones. Even if he droned on all- night I might be able to blot him out.

The RSPB were being very secretive about the location of the birds' nest. We would be collected from the Royal Oak's car park by a van and put in the back so we couldn't see as we were driven to the nearest track. From there we would be led by an RSPB member to the hide to relieve the previous couple.

I arrived about ten minutes early. I was surprised that Alfred wasn't there before me. He was always early for meetings so that he could inflict his boring conversation on any other arrivals. At the due time the van turned up. The front seat passenger opened the side door. I climbed in to the dark interior. As I put my backpack down a pair of warm lips met mine.

"Surprise!" said Heather's voice as her lips pulled away.

"How...?" I asked.

"I persuaded the Chairman that Alfred deserved a time away representing the group at an Earth Day convention in Scarborough or Skegness or wherever it is. I volunteered to replace Alfred tonight so that he could go. He will be boring the delegates, not you. Are you pleased?"

"Yes."

"Good. I hope you will enjoy a night with me better than one with Alfred."

"I'm sure I will."

The journey didn't take long. The last few minutes were uncomfortable as we were thrown about inside the van as it drove slowly down a rough track. The side door opened. This time an interior light shone on us. Heather winked at me. She'd just switched the light back on. We could have been snuggling effectively instead of groping for each other in the dark. Now I could see that Heather was wearing a padded coat over full sweatsuit bottoms and furry boots.

"OK," said the RSPB guide. "Keep very quiet and make as little noise as possible. We have about two hundred yards to go."

He shone a small torch on the ground.

"Follow the light," he ordered.

It was difficult to keep up with him. It was a cloudy damp night and the ground was uneven. I was holding Heather's hand and pulling her along.

There were faint whispers as the guide met the previous watchers at the entrance to the hide. He turned to us, lifting the sackcloth over the entrance.

"Come in, quietly. Then you can put your torches on."

We ducked under a branch. He shone the torch around the interior. There were two folding chairs, a video recorder blinking on a small picnic table, a couple of pairs of binoculars resting on a shelf opposite the entrance and a large battery in a corner. It looked very spartan.

He lifted some sacking behind the shelf to reveal a slit. He lowered the sacking gently.

"That's where the birds are," he whispered. "About thirty feet away. All you have to do tonight is make sure that no humans come near. If you hear anyone, dial the police emergency number – this one."

He pointed to a large notice over the shelf.

"You tell them that you are from the RSPB on nest watch and give them the location..."

"But we don't know where we are!" I protested.

"...given in this sealed envelope."

He pointed at an envelope pinned beside the telephone number.

"You tell them that there is a suspected egg-poacher in the vicinity. They should do the rest. OK?"

"Yes," we chorused.

"When it is daylight you should record the comings and goings of the birds and anything that happens. That's it until you are relieved. Do you follow that?"

"We listen at night and watch and record by day." I replied.

"Good. Turn your torches off until the doorway is covered. Someone else will bring the next watchers about eight o'clock. Until then you are on your own. Bye."

He ducked under the branch. The sackcloth dropped and we were alone. We heard the faint footsteps departing.

"So what do we do now?" I asked, not daring to suggest what was in my mind.

"Keep quiet, and..."

Heather's hand reached for my torch and turned it out. Her torch clicked off. Her arms wrapped round me and pulled me into a lingering kiss.

We kissed and cuddled for a long time. Despite our activity we were beginning to feel the cold. Snuggling closer helped for a while. Although we were wrapped in coats and layers of clothing we would be very cold by dawn. I disengaged a hand and reached for my backpack.

"What are you doing?" Heather asked.

"Trying to get my backpack."

"Why? Aren't I enough for you?"

"Of course you are. We're getting colder and..."

"What's in the backpack that will help?"

"An airbed. A sleeping bag. A thermos of coffee and..."

"The airbed sounds good, Derek. This ground is hard. Earth Day it may be but you can be too close to the Earth."

I found my torch and switched it on. Heather let me go as I wriggled the airbed out and attached the hand pump. Heather was laughing at my frantic ineffectual pumping. Ten minutes later the airbed was still flat. It must have a puncture. I spread it out as a groundsheet and pulled out the sleeping bag. As I unrolled it the half-bottle of champagne slid out. Heather grabbed it before it hit the ground.

"Champagne? You did come prepared, didn't you? Any glasses?"

I produced some plastic beakers.

"All I could find. I didn't think that fine crystal was appropriate."

"They'll do. Will you open the bottle, or shall I?"

"I'll do it."

I pointed the bottle around the edge of the sackcloth door and eased the cork out. I caught the cork as it left the bottle's neck. I poured a large beaker each.

"To us," I said, raising my beaker.

"To us," Heather replied.

"You know that alcohol actually makes you feel colder," I said.

"Does it?"

"Yes. We should be prepared for that."

"And we are?"

I pointed to the sleeping bag.

"It is a double."

"Is it?"

"Yes. If we get in together we should keep warm."

"Would it help if we removed our boots?"

"Yes."

"Then when we have finished this champagne that's what we will do. To us."

Heather raised her beaker again. I refilled it and we drunk another toast.

The champagne didn't last long. I helped Heather take her boots off. She helped me. We crawled into the sleeping bag and zipped it up.

"It is a shame the airbed has a puncture," she said slowly.

"Why?"

"Because I am not going to be your mattress. The earth is too hard and lumpy. You will have to cushion it for me. Will you?"

"If that's what you want, Heather."

"I do."

She rolled on top of me. Her hands busied themselves at my clothing. She was working in the dark by feel yet within a few moments she had exposed my chest and my jeans and pants were down to my knees. She unzipped her coat and wriggled up my body. Her hands parted her coat to pull my head inside, against her soft sweatshirt covered breasts. She lowered herself so that her breasts snuggled either side of my face.

I was in ecstasy, surrounded by warm Heather and drowning in her perfume. She wrapped her arms around me and whispered:

"Sleep well."

How could I sleep? Apart from the arousal from the close contact with her body I had severe difficulty breathing. Heather was soft and yielding. My nose and mouth were buried under a breast and forced deeper by the pull of her arms. I tried to pull away. Heather pulled me back. I tried again, desperate for breath. She hugged me tighter until I had to struggle violently. She released me long enough for a few panted breaths before clamping me against her again. I heard her giggling above me.

She lifted herself up, letting my head drop back. I was still panting for breath when she slid a hand behind my head and lifted it back to her cleavage. Her sweatshirt had gone. I was now pressed against her flimsy T-shirt. I could feel the outline of her bra as my face was smothered. My arms flapped uselessly deep in the folds of the sleeping bag as Heather deprived me of air again.

She stopped, lifting her breasts from me. I felt her sweatshirt slip down.

"Have you ever done any ballroom dancing?" Heather asked.

"What?"

"Ever done any ballroom dancing?"

I collected my thoughts. What was she getting at?

"Er... Yes. At school. A long time ago. Why?"

"Because the gentleman is supposed to lead his partner. The same applies to sex. You aren't doing much leading and you aren't doing much at all. So far I have done everything. I arranged tonight. I've been taking the lead ever since we met. How are you at eating women?"

I thought I had better be honest.

"I have never..."

"Thought so, Derek. If you are going to be part of this relationship you should learn. Now. Get out of the sleeping bag and put your boots back on."

"OK."

I was puzzled. Willing but puzzled. I eased myself out from under Heather, put the torch on, found my boots and slid my feet into them.

"What now, Heather?" I asked.

"Get back into the bag, head first, face up. I'll guide you."

She did. She raised her body as I slid down it towards her waist. Her hands held the waistband of her slacks down on the ground. My lips met bare flesh around her navel. I kissed and my tongue explored.

"That's better," she said. "Now you are doing something at last. You have a little further to go..."

She heaved her hips upward. My head slid downwards. I felt her bush stroking my forehead, brushing over my nose and settling on my lips. My tongue extended until it started to part her lower lips.

"Yes! Stay there!"

Heather's hands pulled beside my head. My face was forced against her as she tugged her panties, pantyhose and slacks behind my head. The waistband constricted across the back of my neck as she tightened the draw cord. My lips and tongue were in contact with warm damp flesh and fixed in place. This time I didn't leave my arms flapping. I reached up under her sweatshirt, T-shirt and bra to find her breasts and began stroking them.

Heather's response was to press harder on my face. If I could keep breathing we might get somewhere. I found that I could pull my nose back for a couple of seconds to get air. Satisfied that I could survive I concentrated on the feast above me.

Soon Heather was writhing and groaning. I tried harder to keep her satisfied as her movements became more frenzied. I heard her reach a climax with muffled cries stifled against my crotch. I kept going. Soon I was rewarded by more climaxes. How long I could continue I didn't know. For a first timer I seemed to be doing well and to have found the right way to arouse Heather.

I felt her hands tug at my jeans. Heather pushed them down to my knees. I lifted my hips to help as my pants followed. Her hands found my erection. Her fingers were much softer than my own yet seemed to know exactly how much pressure was needed to arouse me. If I was to hold back for a while I needed to distract myself. How?

I started thinking about the birds we were supposed to be protecting. I didn't know about Heather. I would be unable to hear any approaching egg-collector. Heather's pussy was grinding on my face; her clothes had trapped my head. All I could hear was Heather. I strained my ears to detect any sound beyond her body. That was useless.

What were the birds? We had been told that they were rare. I had forgotten what they were called. I was trying hard to remember the species when Heather's warm lips closed around the head of my erection before engulfing much of my shaft. I forgot about birds. I forgot about everything except Heather's insistent mouth and pussy until I came into her mouth.

Heather slurped with apparent enjoyment before loosening her waistband. She pulled me out of the sleeping bag before kissing me with the salty tang of her emissions and mine intermingled on our lips.

"Boots off," she ordered. "Then climb back in."

I did. We snuggled together for the rest of the night.

At dawn I heard the bird chorus. I clambered out to check on the birds we were supposed to be watching. Anyone could have taken the eggs, nest and all, while we were making love. I was relieved that the nest was still there. The hen bird seemed concerned about something. She wasn't sitting on the eggs. She was perched on the edge of the nest peering inside. I reached for the binoculars.

Two of the eggs had hatched. Greedy open mouths peeped out. The male bird arrived with food. As he landed the hen bird took off to forage. I turned to tell Heather. She was still sleeping soundly.

I rummaged in my back-pack to retrieve the camping stove, kettle, pan and food. Five minutes later I was well on the way to producing breakfast for both of us.

The smell of coffee and sizzling bacon woke Heather. She yawned, stretched and wriggled before opening her eyes.

"Bacon? Coffee? That is civilised, Derek. Perhaps you do know how to lead after all."

After breakfast we watched the nestlings for a while. It was a good way to start Earth Day. Those chicks had survived thanks to weeks of effort from dedicated people. Heather and I were perhaps the least dedicated. Even so we had much to thank those birds for. Without them we would not have spent a night together, nor would I have learned how to eat a woman.

When our relief arrived we showed them the chicks. On the way back to civilisation we made arrangements to meet that evening. We were an item from Earth Day onwards. I still had much to learn. Heather was a willing teacher. Next Earth Day we plan to celebrate a year of togetherness. Perhaps this time we will be in a more comfortable location but eating Heather will be on the menu.