Della Meets an Incredible Fella

"You mean poor prices?"

"Well, that is a factor, but I mean gross over-capitalization."

"Now look here Aussie, if you're coming to America to criticize Americans..."

"Don't jerk yourself off Dan by being overly-sensitive. It's a valid point and I'd think you know it just as I know it's the American way. If you didn't want me to say things that interest you, why invite me to your ranch?"

"I didn't. McNeil pressed for it but it appears it was Della's idea. McNeil told me you are based on a family ranch."

"Yeah."

"How big is it?"

"Big enough."

Dan grinned and said obviously Zane wasn't a bragger from Texas. "McNeil and I have a thousand and twenty-eight acres."

"I'm not bragging. We farm in a semi-arid area where once a decade we have more cattle die than we actually sell when the drought runs into years. Our horse paddock is twenty-five acres."

"Jesus. Then how large is the ranch?"

"As I said, its semi-arid land. The family has 226,000 acres, give or take a few acres as the last survey was more than a hundred years ago. We probably have the same number of cattle as you do but we also run sheep."

"What sixty-nine breeding cows?"

"Er, perhaps we have a few times more than that number."

They flew southwest for around 150 miles and landed in Bureau County on a sealed strip and taxied up to a hangar. As soon as they were out and walking to the adjacent parking lot a guy in overalls arrived on a quad-bike to tow the airplane under cover. They drove slowly for fifteen minutes, the family pointing out features, and arrived at McN and D Ranch.

Dan said, "It's sixty percent tillable and out the back on higher ground we have a stand of forest, brush and a lake where we shoot and fish. We grow feed grain and all the hay we need. We are self-sufficient but McNeil's salary subsidizes the operation, especially in poor years."

Zane looked at the huge two-level house and the two big barns not far away and sighed. Talk about over-investing in ranching. An Australia on a 1000-acre farm would have a modest house, a shed for machinery and vehicles and a row of dog kennels. That's all.

The family had family business to discuss so Zane went for a walk and in one of the barns found a quad-bike so went out on it to look at the cattle. They were Limousins, a breed that originated in France. They looked in great shape.

Leaving them, Zane was crossing the next field when he saw a guy in a pickup cutting across the grass to intercept him. He stopped and the guy turned towards him and got out of the vehicle and holding a rifle, barrel pointing to the ground.

"What are you doing on our land and with our quad bike?"

"Sunning myself. It's a great day."

"Answer me."

Zane felt his temper rising and stepped off the quad, thinking this must be Rex. He looked muscular but also looked slow. "Now that's not being very neighborly."

The guy pointed the gun at Zane's midriff. "You could be a rustler or you could be stealing our quad."

"And if I denied both charges you'd believe me?"

The guy licked his lips, now a little less sure of himself. "Are you the city slicker who Della has been hosting?"

"She's a real honey isn't she? Bet she's glad she got away from this dump."

Zane watched the guy's neck redden. "I understand your possessiveness of Della is not appreciated by her or McNeil?"

"Shut your mouth Aussie or I'll shut it for you."

Zane figured the guy would accept a back down. "Sorry for riling you Rex. I can be such an idiot at times. Not only do you have the rifle but you're bigger than me."

"Well, I needed to know who you were. So Della and her mother spoke to you about me?"

"Yeah, to avoid trouble between us I suppose. I rather fancy Della and I believe she is responding but has remained a lady I hasten to say."

"She is a lady."

"Well that's one thing we agree on. Toss me the rifle Rex."

Rex hesitated and apparently decided the stranger would think he were a coward if he didn't. He tossed it and watched how easily it was caught and examined before being tossed back to him.

Zane said, "I thought it looked the new Winchester SXR autoloader. Dad has just acquired one. I now used his Browning Medallion 7 millimeter as I'd coveted it for years."

"You shoot?"

"Sounds like it."

"And you know something about ranching?"

"I took a degree in agriculture to improve farming practices on our family ranch but was overcome by writing so now write professionally."

"How much do you know about ranching?"

"A little, perhaps more than a little, but its hard work compared with writing. I still help out at busy times. I'm considered useful in keeping the wild dog population down -- they go after calves and sick cattle."

"How do you shoot them?"

"Ride them down on horseback and when close enough slide into a halt at right angles and shoot holding my left arm for support like this, using a scope."

"Dead easy."

"Oh yeah, with me breathing hard and the horse breathing hard and the critter racing off fifty to 100 meters away?"

"Oh yeah, not so easy. Let's toss the quad on to the back and come back with me. I'll take you hunting in the morning if you wish."

"I wish."

"You've got it pal."

The evening went well, with Rex showing no interest in Della beyond normal friendliness.

Over pre-dinner drinks they watched a tape of the previous evening's news. A three-minute section of Zane's media conference had McNeil sitting on the edge of her seat, eager to view it again.

Question: Where do you get your ideas?

Zane: They appear resident in my head.

Question: Why is Australia popular with American tourists?"

Zane: It's easy to get there. You fly to LA, have a drink and your next pilot turns left upon flying out of LA and you're on your way until it's time to swing right into Sydney.

Question: Who's your favorite American author?

Zane: Joan Collins because despite the years and her hard grinds she still looks sexy. In my early teens I adored Hemmingway. Dad is a rancher and subscribes to the American Cattlemen's Magazine. I find good articles in that.

Question: How large is the family ranch?

Zane: It's pretty big but is mostly semi-desert. Our horse paddock covers twenty-five acres.

Question: What is your approach to writing a novel?

Zane: I look at my bank statement and say cripes, money's running out. I better get writing. I look at a map, pick a setting for it, think of a woman I don't like and figure of what could she do to improve her attractiveness to me and then I use that reconfigured woman as my heroine and write a list of the characteristics the hero would need to be compatible and yet slightly challenging for her.

Question: Your heroines are always big breasted?

Zane: Well you are not lacking. If you look back into the history of adventuresome female heroines I reckon you'll find most were big breasted. Personally I couldn't care less if they had none but I have my format to follow. I believe most modern readers of fiction expect the heroine to be big in breast and ego and with a rather trim butt. Oh, it's also a trend for young females today to have larger tits than their mother had at the same age - scientifically proven, I believe.

Question: Why are your heroes always tall?

Zane: Because my heroines are almost as tall. A mismatch could cause reader irritation.

Question: Why do you stick with Innes-Rand here in Chicago when much larger international publishers have publishing houses in Australia?

Zane. Simple. Innes-Rand was the only one of forty-eight publishers I approached with the script of my first novel, 'Clancy and Nancy'. It bombed and the title didn't help. But the publisher's new sexy commissioning editor from New York McNeil Jones sat down with me for more than four hours and ripped my maiden novel to bits. She then kissed me, patted me on the ass and said, 'Now go back home young man and write me a real novel'. Today McNeil is my publishing editor. Innes-Rand stuck with me so it's the right thing to do to stick with them now I'm famous.

Question: Are you famous as an author Mr Maddox?

Zane: Ma'am, would you be here asking that question if I weren't a top selling author? I reckon this new work, 'Dangerous Siestas' will make you pee your panties. McNeil has not told me she has doubts about the success of this novel so that's as good as saying to me I've written a best seller -- well after she'd polished it.

Question: Mrs McNeil Jones has a reputation for hating her authors. Is that true?

Zane: I have no knowledge of that. Actually I think McNeil secretly in love with me.

Question: How do you figure out that?

Zane: She rants and raves on the phone to me when I rile her. Isn't that obviously sexual tension?

Question: Why is it you are permitted to call her McNeil? All other authors are practically required to grovel and call her Miss Jones?

Zane: That's easy to answer. She gnashed those beautiful teeth of hers at me over that very thing saying how dare I call her McNeil and how dare I ignore her requests to stop calling her McNeil. But I gave her the answer that stymied her and the issue has never been raised since.

Question: What was that devastating reply?

Zane: I replied, But McNeil, I'm Australian. Although we were on the phone I could 'see' her turn pale and throw up her hands, confirmed when she said, 'I give up'. You know guys, courageous men usual find big-breasted women easy to handle.

The media people broke up in laughter and that ended the film clip.

As Dan refilled glasses McNeil said, "I loved seeing that again. You projected as a most interesting man Zane, rather witty and rather heroic. I can't recall us ever having a press conference go that well and remained heavily focused on our new book and its author."

"It was great," Rex said. "Zane showed he wasn't scared of the media with their long knives."

"Correct, they loved him Rex," Della said. "We opened the bar for the media and most of them stayed. They gathered round Zane and he regaled them with some of his real-life adventures including some of his carnal adventures."

"You mean Zane talked about sex," Dan said, frowning. "But perhaps half of those journalists were female."

"It's how women are today darling. Ask your daughter."

"Would you converse about sex in front of men Della?"

"Certainly, if it were relevant dad. What do you think women talk about when they are together over a drink... babies and the weather?"

"I-I suppose I knew that."

"Now guys," Zane said. "Let's talk about Della returning with me to Australia to see if she'd like to live there."

Everyone looked at Zane surprised, Della obviously the most surprised.

CHAPTER 3

Farewelled by tearful McNeil, Zane and Della left Chicago at 1:15 on the start of their 9230-mile 26-hour flight, changing at LA to another United jet and their flight arrived at Sydney just after 6:00 am, local time.

As they flew over the harbor city, Della looked down and said, "I still can't believe I'm doing this although you are interesting, the city looks interesting and I still don't know if we are really... really."

"Really what?"

"Compatible."

"Why not?"

"Um..."

"Is that the reply of an intelligent woman?"

"I'm travel weary Zane."

"Well your mouth is still working."

"We haven't had sex."

Zane smiled. "Well the first one will be on Australian soil, won't it?"

Della scowled. "What you made my wait until we got to Sydney?"

"Circumstances kept intervening. The worst barrier came after your mother announced she'd put my carry bags in your room and your father turned purple and said I was sleeping out in one of the single rooms alongside the barn where Rex slept."

"Well that was dad just being dad. Anyway I was upset at you shooting the lovely young doe."

"The request from the kitchen was one young doe."

"You could have let Rex shoot it."

"And you wouldn't have been upset had he shot it?"

"No."

Zane scowled and said he didn't understand and Della snapped men never do.

At the hotel Della phoned her mom to advise they had arrived safely and when finishing the 20-minute call found Zane was soundly asleep. He awoke her at 5:00 pm.

"Oh god, not now. I feel terrible."

"If it's any consolation you look terrible."

Tears threatened but Della, realizing she had to be charge of the situation, said she'd have a shower and Zane could take her down for a light meal.

"Right, I'll go to the pool for a quick swim."

"I'll come with you."

"I want to go now.

"I'll come with you now."

Zane slapped a hand against his forehead and said, "Christ Della."

She replied icily, "What?"

Zane hesitated and then smiled. "Let's go to the pool."

They arrived back at the room very happy and as the door closed and they kissed Della said, "Let's do it Zane. I want you in me."

Zane replied in the manner of any red-blooded guy. He pulled the top of her one-piece swimsuit down and licked over a surprisingly large nipple and murmured, what a great nipple and that set Della alight: "Lick my pussy Zane, I want the delay to end."

Zane's response was positive, the only words he uttered before applying his expertise were, "God Della, trimmed auburn looks very inviting."

She gurgled in happiness.

Later, panting in desire, Della guided it in for Zane. Round two she rode cowgirl and round three it was doggy. They dozed and at 9:30 went down to dinner, hand-in-hand, a 40-year-old and an over-the-moon 26-year-old.

"How do you like Australia darling?"

"Oh Zane, it had been more than three weeks since I last had sex. You have made me feel like a very happy woman. You fuck brilliantly."

Pushing out his chest Zane led Della into the crowded restaurant.

"A window table please ma'am," Zane said to the overweight maitre d' who was as tall as he was.

"You have to be joking, there will be a two-hour wait..."

The woman's eyes widened to almost saucer-size. "Ohmigod, welcome back home Mr Maddox. I have one VIP table left."

They wandered along after the striding woman and for the first time Della experienced the cult-hero status Zane had in his own state (New South Wales). Guys at some of the tables called "Hi Zane" and women tended to call "Hi darling."

Surprised at how many people who appeared to know him, Della asked as they sat down, "Have you been to this hotel before?"

"A few times."

"So many people seem to know you."

"Oh I get my photo on TV and in newspapers and women's magazines quite a bit, usually caught looking at my date's breasts, sometimes with a hand down there, or brawling."

"Brawling -- God how common."

"Um, sometimes my date has been someone else's wife who arrives to take a swing at me to gain publicity."

"Oh god."

"The truth is Della Australians don't go in for shy half measures like foreigners. With them it's all or nothing. Women in love with me imagine fucking me while guys get aggressive and try to knock my head off to gain notoriety. It's not fair but I've learned to live with it. I first gained my reputation in playing rugby league for New South Wales Country."

"What for being the only pin-up player?"

"Er, probably that too but as the fastest-running forward and the dirtiest."

"What, you didn't wash?"

"No darling -- flying elbow to the head and sneaky eye-gouging and ball wrenching."

"Oh god, how disgusting."

"Yeah, the public must have thought so too. In the first seasons I played our team began drawing big crowds and the three times County with me on the team played City the game drew record attendances."

"With people wanting to see you get your comeuppance?"

"What?"

"It means..."

"I know what it means. It's just I didn't think you'd know that word. It's rarely used these days."

"I am well educated Zane."

"Oh yes, I agree. My superior for sure. But no, I was their Black Hero. They came to see how many players I could immobilize during a game. The media named me Zane the Gladiator. I started training in unarmed combat to increase my fitness and to better defend myself but after four years of being battered I decided to give football away. My home club staged a charity match for me and I used those proceeds to pay a deposit on a small apartment here in Sydney that is now debt-free. It's rented out short term at the moment."

"Yes, I remember you saying that. You said it was on the south bank of the Darling River. I think that's a great name for a river. Will we get a cab there?"

Zane looked for the sly smile but found none. "Where do you think the Darling River is?"

"Um I can't recall you saying. I guess Bourke is a Sydney suburb and the Darling flows into the harbor from there."

"Yeah?"

"Why are you thumping your forehead and rolling your eyes?"

"Bourke is 800km to the north-west of here and is the gateway to the Outback."

"The Outback. What the hell's that?"

"Oh Christ Della, you weren't listening were you?"

"When I do my toenails I often go into a trance."

"I've never seen you do your toenails. I told you when we were on your father's airplane."

"Well I get drowsy in the air, with the engines droning."

"So you remember nothing of what I said about Bourke and Wudinna Station?"

"You know I remember about the Darling River."

"Jesus. You haven't a clue have you? You assume you'll take a cab everyone and there will be a Macy's on every corner, don't you?"

"That's being rude. You know I'm not a birdbrain."

Zane made some calls and managed to get them on a 10-seater charter to Bourke carrying six English tourists.

At the airport next morning, tired from being kept awake half the night fucking, not that she had any complaints about that, Della watched in horror as a middle-aged woman from Kent pawed her Zane.

"Oh Zane Maddox, my favorite author," the skinny woman gushed.

Della waited nervously because her two female companions were rather big breasted but relaxed when they looked down their noses and said they didn't read fiction. Two of the men admitted they'd read some of Zane's books in paperback form but didn't appear to want to fight him.

Della looked down as the aircraft circled Bourke ready to land. "Where's the city?"

Zane leaned over her, tweaking a nipple and said, "That's all you get with Bourke. I can see dad's Toyota at the air field."

Della looked down and said, "Oh god, are we going to land there. Where are air traffic control and emergency services?"

"What you see is what you get at Bourke Airport."

"Oh god, we're doing to die."

The other women, hearing Della, began to sound panicky. They calmed when Zane said, "Safest airport in Australia I believe. Please excuse my companion. She's American."

"Ah, of course she is," said the skinny woman. "Relax girls. It's just another panicking American."

That riled Della. "I predict we'll perish in a fireball."

The women began screaming and the pilot made one of the smoothest landings they'd probably ever experienced.

"Oh god. What have I done?"

"Nothing my darling," Zane smiled. "As the English lady said, just another panicking American. You had them really going. I'll work that scene into my next book."

He received a disrespectful look so kissed Della's lush lips and when he felt her tongue slither into his mouth knew he was forgiven. That feeling of bliss for Della ought to last for a couple of minutes.

"Oh god," Della gasped, stepping from the air-conditioned aircraft into 37.7C (99.86F). She'd heard on the radio at the hotel that morning Chicago airports had been closed due to severe icing.

"Remember it's summer in the Southern Hemisphere darling and some days the temperature takes quite a dip," Zane said helpfully. "I had asked dad to bring us Akubras.

"What are they, survival suits?"

"Stetson-like hats. Keep the sun off your head and you feel a damn lot cooler."