Fishing With Mrs Duckett

Fishing is the most boring recreational past-time known to man, in my opinion. It stinks, it wastes time and what you bring home if you're lucky enough your mom can buy at the supermarket for far less trouble and expense; it all tastes like crap anyway. I had this opinion for half my life, the last twelve years, but then my boss Mr Duckett brought a new perspective of fishing into my life by sending me out fishing with Mrs Duckett.

It was Friday morning and Crowley Duckett called me into his office at his car dealership.

"Doing anything tomorrow Jim?"

"Sleeping in all morning and working here from 1:00 to 8:00."

He smiled and said he had other plans for me. "I'll ask Chipper to get Cory to work a double shift at double usual rates; I want you to take Mrs Duckett fishing."

In astonishment I asked him why.

"Because she's asked for you – I said she could have anyone in sales and she said, "Give me the scrawny one called Jim who looks gay. I don't want a guy staring at me thinking sex while while I'm fishing."

"What guy would think about sex when looking at Mrs Duckett?" I grinned and added hastily she had made the right decision.

"But you're not gay are you?"

"No, I told you I had a girlfriend when you hired me and you hired me on a monthly base-rate premium of two hundred bucks if I would specialize in dealing with obviously gay customers. You thought I had 'the look' and I agreed to work accepting that bias because to me customers are customers."

Crowley nodded solemnly. "Yeah, and that really has worked out for me and for you; you have the second highest client referrals and repeat business of everyone here."

I grinned and said I always assumed the boss knew best.

The boss laughed and said I shouldn't fondly think Mrs Duckett might find me sexy because she was scared stiff of gay men.

"But Crowley, I'm not gay."

He said he was inclined to think that but no way should I attempt to change Mackenzie's opinion. Well I wasn't likely do anything, possibly not even bother to talk to her as Mackenzie Duckett was never out of trousers, had little sign of tits and although eight to ten years younger than the boss acted rather like an older woman. I'd often wondered if she had girlfriends – you know, gay girlfriends.

"Why aren't you going instead of me boss?"

"Because I'm going to the horse races with the boys. She is perfectly capable of handling the boat by herself but what if she falls overboard? She does like to drink when fishing. Then what if she runs into any sort of trouble? Two heads are better than one in a crisis Jim. But stop your quibbling – you're going and here's two hundred bucks as a gratuity. Just be down at Pier 17, berth eight at 10:00. The name of the boat is Screw Me."

I asked who gave the boat that goddamn name and he looked at me sternly and said he did; in the days of his first wife when he purchased the boat, yet to be named, he had a hot mistress; screw me was her favorite saying.

The complications were becoming too much for me so I grabbed the money and said I would represent his interests to the best of my ability and went back to work.

"Thanks Jim – I'll rest easy."

The bitch had labeled me scrawny! I though of wearing my girlfriend's shoulder pads but tossed that idea as if it was a fine day I might want to sunbath and without the pads the bitch would label me a fraud.

Next morning I reached Screw Me to find her aboard, ready to go and looking at her watch all too obviously.

"You're late."

"And good morning to you," I said cheerfully, jumping on to the deck of the boat and skidding on to my ass as my feet went from under me.

"Those effeminate shoes are not boat shoes. Are you okay?"

"I think so I said," holding out a hand. She rushed to assist probably thinking that might avert an injury liability claim if I were only moderately hurt.

"This is an inauspicious start to our day," she said kindly.

"Neptune is punishing me for lateness."

Mrs Duckett actually laughed and I thought I detected some bounce under her loose shirt. Below that she wore track pants – yuck.

"Do you know anything about boats?"

I acted dumb. "Only that they sink when they take on too much water."

She gave me the look of a master castrator.

The two outboard motors were already idling. She took the wheel and commanded, "Cast off."

"What, you want me to jump off on to the jetty? Crowley said I was to watch over you and save you from your own stupidity or from real peril."

She looked at me, mouth open, showing expensively enhanced teeth. "What – the swine said that?"

"That might not be an accurate quote but it is the gist of what he said. I'll cast off the aft and bow mooring lines."

She wanted to bark that I'd said I knew nothing about boats but thought better of it, possibly because that tease could have made me more interesting than what she had expected.

"How old are you?" I asked, letting go the aft line and turning. It was touch and go but finally she said thirty-eight.

"And you?"

"Twenty-eight. What do I call you?"

She said Mrs Duckett and when I went fo'ard and passed her I was still laughing.

I returned and we were underway. There was a long silence as I;d decided not to speak until she backed down and ed to call me by her given name. Climbing down into the galley I found the under-bench fridge full of wine so opened a bottle of dry white and returned topside with it and two glasses.

"Yummy," she said, reaching for a glass. I withdrew it and looked at her expectedly. She colored and said, "Mackenzie."

"What a sweet name," I said, handing her a glass and clinked mine against hers before she could jerk hers away.

After two sips she placed her glass in the holder and lifted her expensive sunglasses and stared. "Lift you glasses; I want to see your eyes."

My partner Carol had suffered stomach cramps last evening so hadn't drunk much wine and when she wondered if she were pregnant that put me off mine. So I didn't have red-rimmed Saturday morning eyes to show Mackenzie. Oh, during the night Carol scampered out of bed to discover she had food poisoning, much to my relief. Only a minor upset thank goodness.

I lifted my glasses and Mackenzie stared. I wondered if I reached and touched her pussy would she come after me with the emergency axe just inside the companionway.

"My God, you've come aboard expecting to seduce me."

I went down two steps and unfastened the axe and gave it to her. "Arm yourself if you have psycho delusions. Christ Mackenzie, you're old enough to be my mom."

"Put this horrible thing back where it belongs and stop scaring me. For your information a 10-year-old is unlikely to be old enough to bear children. I'm ten years younger than Crowley and he doesn't appear to have a age gap problem."

I said I bet but unless she wanted me to seduce her could we drop that subject.

She slammed the throttle lever hard and we were underway, bow lifting and the launch – still in the restricted speed zone – began planning as it was designed to do. I left her and grabbing a packet of biscuits and the morning newspaper from one of the boxes she'd brought aboard went and sprawled on the double bed under where she was standing

Twenty minutes later as I reached the sports section the boat slowed and the motors were cut. The electric operated anchor was then dropped. I continued to rest in my emergency rescue pose eating biscuits and reading the newspaper until she arrived to disturb the peace.

"You're on my bed – what's wrong with the sofas?"

I said I'd felt closer to her being under her feet. Besides, the air below was fresher when the bow raised at speed as the lighter fresh air was tipped aft.

"That can't be true."

"Please yourself."

"How would you know?"

"Physics," I said, seizing the first word that came to mind. That appeared to satisfy her.

She calmly undressed in front of me to reveal she was wearing a bikini. I yawned and turned to look the other way.

"Come up and watch my rods while I sunbath," she said, "and bring more wine."

As she climbed the four steps I reached up and patted the exposed right cheek. "Not too much cellulite." She accelerated up the last two steps and scraped her head on the top of the hatchway; I distinctly saw her hand twitch as she moaned, "Fuck" and then looked at the axe.

When I reached the deck she scowled and said, "Look Jim, I feel I'm under psychological pressure. Unless you..."

The tits looked great, as did her flaming face. I said, "Can it Mackenzie and act your age. Toss the lines out and then I'll oil your back and backs of your legs and you sunbath. I'll only disturb you to reel in the fish. Here, have a quick wine to steady your nerves – you've gotten yourself all upset. If you want to be fucked just say so otherwise sunbath and read one of those crappy women's magazines where most of the letters are from women complaining there're not getting enough."

"Ohmigod Jim, you are psychologically empowered. Instead of spurning you I feel a sense of helplessness."

I told her that would pass. She knew she wanted me; her only problem was deciding when.

Enough of that bullshit I thought and went below to Crowley's side of the bed. The top magazine looked promising but when I flicked through it I found it was a catalogue with pages advertising penis lengthening and other ads for getting it erect and staying erect; the ads were marked with sticky tabs protruding beyond the pages. All the other magazines were too horny for me; I didn't want to go up deck roaring with my erection in my hand and having Mackenzie calling the Coastguard to exterminate me. Gratefully I picked up a magazine in the saloon called 'Fly Fishing in Montana' and rejoined the skipper.

She had three rods out and was pouring another wine. "I don't want you to rub oil on me."

"Fine."

"You said you wanted to rub me with oil," she complained.

I told her she was too much of a handful for me, that I was going to below where I felt safer.

"No, don't go – rub oil on my back."

"Okay – any instructions about the rods?"

"Yes, if the reel screams grab the rod, pull the tip back sharply but only by one to two feet and then keep tension on the line and call me – do you think you can manage that?

"Yes."

"I straddled her back and sat lightly on her thighs, just below her cellulite bulges – just joking. I undid her bra strap and began swishing oil around.

"That's nice."

"You have lovely skin," I replied and heard her suck in her breath.

"Nobody has said that to me for a long time."

"I guess not many guys get this privilege."

She sighed. "Can we fuck after late lunch – we do need to catch fish otherwise my husband will be suspicious."

"How many fish."

"Three big ones will be okay."

The fish were listening because one reel did a bit of a screech, then another and then the third.

She sighed. "Not much screech – just little 'uns. Reel them in a throw them back. Nine inches is the minimum size around here."

I flushed with pleasure, just qualifying but only on a hot and very randy day with a pulsating pussy dripping on to my belly. She was, of course, talking about the dominant variety of fish caught in these waters.

Mackenzie lay dozing so I reeled in the lines, threw the juveniles back in and did what my granddad always told me when I was a kid fishing with him – 'Big baits, big fish – remember that Jimbo'. Well I had remembered, so baited up good – big chunks. Two minutes later one of the reels screamed, smoke virtually pouring from the tortured metal inside the reel. I grabbed the rod just as the second reel screamed.

"Jesus," said Mackenzie, leaping up attempting to tie her top back on but giving up and lunging to grab the reel and strike to securely hook the fish.

I landed my 19-inch beauty and seconds later netted her 21-inch fish. She absolutely boggled and said wouldn't Crowley be impressed. I said I didn't think so as he hadn't been the catcher and she grinned and agreed.

Before we had time to rebait the third rod tip bent, the line tightened and the reel screamed.

"Take it," Mackenzie grinned. "After you've landed it, bleed and gut them and put them in the chiller box. Then come down for early light lunch – we'll have something more substantial later."

That seemed to be a good offer to me. I don't like getting meals.

* * *

Mackenzie had showered as her black hair was slicked down hard over her ears and kept those severe lines as it ran down the back of her neck. She wore a fluffy dressing gown that opened into a 'V' between her small covered tits. I imagined nothing else was under that. She was sitting at the small table, legs wide apart judging by the position of her feet. Oh yeah.

"Wash in the master bedroom," she smiled.

I scrubbed away at my fishy hands and arms with perfumed liquid soap – not a bad idea on a fishing launch. I turned drying my arms and only then noticed on her bedside cabinet a big box of condoms, a butt plug and lube; they hadn't been there when I was in the cabin earlier.

A bit storm blew up, our boat overturned and sank and the Coastguard rescued us. The media was waiting as we came ashore and we were asked what had we missed most. "The sex" Mackenzie and I said in unison. That daydream ended as I folded the towel back into position, left my shirt folded neatly on the chair where I'd thrown it before washing and went to her – er, went to the table.

She eyed me all the way and then running her tongue slowly under her top lip said, "My God you are lean and muscular."

"What were you expecting – the body of a homosexual wimp?"

She turned scarlet and hung her head.

I turned the screw. "Some of my gay female and male clients have bodies that are standouts in the gym. I go to only straight women but that's only a sexual preference – the bulk of those gays have good personalities, know who they are and don't roam around attempting to lure young folk as what people like you seem to think. I prefer them to straight mother-fuckers."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I guess I never really thought about it."

"That's fine – I don't carry a banner for them but I dislike seeing them maligned. Do you ever lick pussy?"

Her face lifted and she stared at me - green eyes opening hugely and tears forming. "I'm such a hypocrite, aren't I?"

"You be the judge and consider modifying your thinking if you think that will make you a better person."

"Sit down and pour the sauterne Jim," she said humbly. At that my interest in her grew so I adjusted my shorts and poured the wine. She split open lengthways two rolls of French bread and placed one of her plate and took her wine in exchange for my bread.

"Let's not be too long at the table," I leered.

"Oh Jim," she cried darting around the table to sit on my knee and managing to contain most of her wine in the glass. "Do you really want to be fucked by an older woman like me?"

"Bring it on," I smiled, pulling out one of the little tits and gently kissing the pink rosebud at the end of it, already rock hard.

"Oooh, what's this?" she asked in surprise as her hand went wandering.

A little later I asked, "Finished?"

She nodded.

"A pee?"

She shook her head so I carried her to bed and enjoyed one of life's better fucks.

I opened her up - er, opened the gown. The breasts could be covered by my hands but the end circles and nipples were not under-size. Her belly was a little flabby but pretty good I guess for a non-athletic woman of her age. She had hair but not too much of it and it was groomed – very nice.

Her thighs were a little heavy, not too bad, but the lower legs made up for that – God they'd look great in seam stockings. She watched me virtually without blinking as I stood at the end of the bed and gently pulled her ankles wide open. Her slit opened too but not much. She fixed that by reaching down and spreading it and as she withdrew her hands and the lips closed I honestly thought the little critter winked at me.

I pulled down my shorts and briefs and the green eyes almost because saucers. "God, I'm used to a little one."

Well, that made me feel like I was Ulysses being greeted by Penelope on his homecoming after proving who he was. My faithful dick responded and managed to extend itself minutely; I looked at it in awe.

"Aren't you coming?" Mackenzie complained.

"Yes but not prematurely," I said, going to her side and kissing her swollen lips and fiddling with her swollen breasts although that was difficult to detect. What else was swollen? I straddled over her and went down to find out. As I did so she fingered my shaft and I heard her coo: "Oooh, oooh." I tongued her open; there was just enough moisture to ease access, for which I was grateful but as my pink blade sank deep I could feel the lube dancing around it like fairies welcoming the arrival of spring.

Granddad had told me to touch them gently. He'd been talking about the enquiring noses of young colts and fillies of course but the advice was good. I ran a finger around the outer perimeter of her clit nub, eliciting only a light moan but when the finder landed on the soft patch just below it and moved in to waggle the nub I was almost bucked off the bed with a scream and my tongue received extra natural lube.

"What the fuck did you do," she puffed.

I had to say something. "Settle down, you're in the hands of a fingering expert."

"Oh."

That was reassuring to hear but doesn't it prove how gullible women are?

Seconds later the lube container handed against my chin, followed by the butt plug and a condom. So, madam with my dick in her mouth and unsuccessfully attempting to wrap her tongue around it while crashing my nuts together with a free hand was ready. I guessed the butt plug was not for me. She shuddered into a small orgasm as my finger entered with lube and again as the plug was inserted slowly but it seemed to indicate it was in very familiar territory.

She spat my friendly appendage from her mouth with the groan of someone loosing an acquaintance they were just becoming to like and held out her arms patiently as I rolled on our assumed protector. Mackenzie pulled me down to introduce her tongue to mine but it was a very wet introduction as saliva was running hot. I sat back on my knees and she lifted up on her elbows to watch our maiden docking; we both knew I had a lot to deliver.

I grabbed Mackenzie's legs to open them very wide. "Careful," she screeched, "I'm not your nubile nineteen year old cheerleader." That would be true but we combined fine so the gateway opened wide with minimal obstruction to prevent me from sliding in to obtain maximum penetration with my balls right at the gateway and pretending they were going all the way as well. There are few feelings of deep sensations that ever grip me when in that position – perhaps none.

Despite any misgivings she had, her cunt cooperated and took all of me as it was designed to do. I couldn't help thinking just how close to the cervix I was but going by the way her head was swinging from side to side I figured she had no interest in hazarding a guess or would simply lie and say it felt as if I was in it. Perhaps she didn't even know she had a cervix – the two young teenagers are her stepchildren.

As I indicated earlier, it was a great fuck. She was tight and whether she knew it or not she had muscle control; I knew simply because at times my eyes were attempting to pop from their sockets.

She came massively, sweating and very red faced with the color reaching her boobs. The green eyes were rolled up almost out of sight and the noise of her screams vibrating through the water would have scared off the fish for the rest of the day.

I'm not one of those 10ft single stream ejaculators that some guys claim to be; a couple of feeble squirts is my normal contribution. So with her done – and done handsomely I thought looking at the near-unconscious body – I pulled out, ripped off the yellow rubber and giving her plug a couple to wriggles to wake up Mackenzie I leaned forward far enough to squirt two little puddles on to her tits.