Just a Little Fishing Trip Ch. 02

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Fishermen continue to help themselves to guest's wife.
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Part 2 of the 3 part series

Updated 10/29/2022
Created 07/03/2008
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coops181
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It was just on dark when the fishermen walked back into the donga. Johnny greeted them each with a cold beer. They looked pretty beat, especially Doug, too much warm beer and a day out in the relentless tropical sun will do that to you.

"So how'd ya go?"

"Yeah...good, we'll clean the rest of 'em later. Thought we'd have some tucker first," Big Tom remarked, "Where's Dougie's wife?"

Apprehensively, Doug looked over at the young man and waited for his response. He didn't particularly like Johnny; he thought he was a cock-sure, young smart-arse that probably needed a good thumping. But Doug now knew part of his problem was his heritage. While they were out fishing, Tom had told him about the lad's background. The kid's family were mostly either in jail, just out of jail or dead. He was sent out here to hopefully clean him up from substance abuse and teach him a few things about a wonderful part of the world.

Johnny looked up, "Dunno, think she may be havin' a shower."

A little concerned, Doug went out the side door to the small shed that housed the ablutions. He could see the yellow glow of the non-insect attracting light beam out from a crack in the door.

"You in there, Bec?" Doug called out, knocking on the door lightly.

"Bec?"

The door swung open and Rebecca stood there towel-drying her long black hair. Her face looked flushed, Doug noticed, most probably from the hot shower he guessed.

"You're back! How was it?" she asked, an obvious look of relief crossing her face.

"Pretty good, but phew...bloody long day. How'd you go, didn't get too bored I hope?"

"Umm...nup...just lounged around, sunbaking and reading and stuff."

"And stuff hey...sounds good. You going to come in then?"

"Well...I guess so...but I'm not staying up all night drinking with you cretins again!" she said, as she fixed her hair in a loose braid behind her head, "I'd guessed you'd all be pretty hungry too so I put some veggies in a pot...they should be ready soon. There's a heap of steamed rice as well, all ready for some fresh fish to cook up if you'd like?"

"Sounds great, honey. Gee you look great...you're absolutely glowing!" Doug said to his wife, pleased to see what he took to be a contented look on her face -- her hazel-eyes sparkled an almost intense green, even in the dim light.

"Mmm...glowing huh? Must have been the hot shower," Rebecca said as she hung up her towel, then turned to follow her husband back inside.

When they both entered what could best be described as the dining room, Rebecca stood beside her husband and did her best to avoid young Johnny's presence, even though he was reclining on an old arm chair directly in front of her. Instead she looked over at the two men who sat by the table and was warmly greeted by Big Tom and Craig almost immediately.

"You look bloody ravishing again my dear," Tom remarked, eying off her tight denim-shorts and thin pink-singlet quite openly.

"Thankyou Tom," Rebecca acknowledged, slightly embarrassed by his complement. She had of course wished she'd brought something more respectable to wear now, but with little choice, the shorts she felt were a better option than her skirts in the present company, especially after the episode with Tom the night before.

The four men sat around drinking for around half an hour or so while Rebecca dished them all up some tea. The men stuck to beer, while Rebecca opted for a glass of white -- out of a cask of course.

As they ate their meal, Rebecca sensed she was the centre of attention yet again and it made her feel uncomfortable. She ate very little, just picking out the bits of fish and the odd vegetable here and there. Feeling nervous, she finished off her glass of wine a little sooner than normal, and without asking her Tom did the honours and refilled her glass to the brim, before grabbing another four cans of beer out of the old fridge.

Rebecca sat back and watched the men as they noisily ate their meals. She desperately wanted to get out of the close confines of the small room but knew that at this time of night the mozzies would be vicious outside, so she sat sipping her wine and waited.

By the time the men had finished with their plates, Rebecca had polished-off most of her second glass of wine, and without a word she hopped up to clear away the dishes.

"You got a bloody good wife there, Dougie!" Tom exclaimed, "You one lucky man I reckon...I'd love to have one jus' like her."

"Thanks Tom...yep she's a keeper."

Rebecca pretended not too hear and turned to walk out to the kitchen.

"Listen...don't suppose you'd like ta sell her to me would ya," Big Tom laughed heartily, watching Rebecca's buttocks swaying in her tight shorts as she walked out through the doorway.

"What do you reckon, honey? Would you like to be Tom's bitch for awhile?" Doug called out to her jokingly.

"Um, no thanks, dear...sorry Tom, no offence!" she called back, turning on the tap to fill the kitchen sink.

Doug laughed, "I tried, Tom."

The grog was getting to Tom and he was getting a little belligerent, "How about jus' for the week then...give an ol'man a thrill?" he said, looking Doug straight in the eye.

Doug took a big mouthful of beer, "You serious? Not even for a second! Have a bit of respect man."

"Don't take offence, Dougie, thought you may have been one a them fella's that likes ta share his wife around...can't hurt ta ask can it?"

Doug felt uncomfortable suddenly, both Craig and Johnny sat back listening on inquisitively.

Leaning toward Doug, Tom looked him in the eye and said "After all...what sorta dumb cunt would bring his fuckin' horn-bag of a wife out to a camp like this if he wasn't inta sharing her charms?"

Doug looked out to the kitchen, he was pretty certain his wife could not hear what was going on as she noisily clanged the pots and pans while she washed them. Even so he leaned toward Tom.

"Look...Tom I didn't know it would be like this. I know I probably shouldn't have brought her here after Susan and Cranky pulled out...and we would go home tomorrow if it were possible...truly! What do you want me to do?"

Tom took another mouthful of beer, then leaning closer to Doug again and looking him right in the eye he spoke softly.

"I'd like to fuck her, matey...and I want you ta do nuthin'...how about that?"

Doug looked around the table and suddenly felt very intimidated; although more than able to look after himself he was well and truly out of his comfort zone at present. Any one of the three he knew he could take on, maybe even two, but the three of them!

"Why don't you three head out to the filleting table and clean the rest of them fish!" Big Tom suggested as he sat back with his bare arms folded across his barrel-like chest, staring at Doug defiantly.

"Come on ya fucken cock-sucker," Johnny said, rising from his chair at the same time as Craig.

"Take ya time too...okay?" Tom said to Doug.

Doug skulled the rest of his beer and stood up from the table, he felt a wave of paranoia sweep over him, rendering him momentarily speechless, and on legs that did not feel like his own, he followed the other two out the door.

Tom listened to Johnny laughing as they disappeared around the corner of the donga toward the filleting table some twenty metres away. Then he stood up and walked into the kitchen and watched briefly as Rebecca washed the dishes. He stared wantonly at her rounded butt, the frayed legs of her shorts, cut way too short, allowed a generous portion of smooth, suntanned cheeks to be on view.

"Fuck you gotta nice arse...them shorts really do you justice, you know that?"

Rebecca turned around and smiled briefly at Tom. What could she say to that, she thought? Then she went back to doing the dishes.

Big Tom walked up behind her and placed his large hands upon her slim waist, "Need a hand?"

"Um...no thanks Tom," she said frankly, ignoring the liberty he was taking.

Tom breathed in her scent, her hair smelt freshly washed and he noticed it shone healthily from regular grooming.

"Tom! What are you doing? Get out of it...that tickles."

"Tom!" Rebecca cried, "Get your hands out of there!"

The old man ignored her cries -- and steadily worked his hands beneath her singlet, his thick fingers that only a moment before had been tickling her slender waist moved upward with a purpose, toward her breasts!

"Tom...do you mind? I...I'm trying to do the dishes...stop that...please!" Rebecca put the plate down she was washing and with soap suds on her hands, she attempted to remove the big man's hands from under her top.

"Tom! I think you may have too much to drink...stop it!"

He sniggered in her ear, "Them fuckin' nice tits you got there too, Rebecca."

"Alright, you've had your fun...leave them alone now please, you dirty old bastard!" Rebecca admonished, she could not believe for a second that she stood by a sink while some old codger was groping her breasts.

But he didn't stop -- and with one hand planted firmly over each of her breasts, he fondled them without recourse. He felt her nipples noticeably harden at his touch, and gripping each one between thumb and forefinger he pulled on them and rolled them around several times.

"You don't really mind an ol'man copping a bit of a feel do ya?"

Rebecca sighed, "Just a little longer...that's all...okay Tom? Doug may come in at any moment."

"He's outside cleaning fish...with ya young lover..." Tom felt her flinch and he chuckled in her ear.

"Johnny told me...everything...was he bullshitting? Little fucker likes to bullshit to big-note himself ya know."

Rebecca felt her heart skip a beat, "What...what are you talking about?"

Old Tom slowly slid a hand from her breast and down her stomach toward her shorts and started to fumble with the button.

"Lad reckons he fucked ya today...down in the old bunkhouse."

Rebecca was shocked by his frankness, "I...I don't know what your talking about."

Tom managed to unfasten the button to her shorts and proceeded to ease the zip down, "Said you let him do it to ya for hours?"

Rebecca could feel her heart racing in her chest, "Tom...he's...Tom, what do you think your doing?" she said, squirming slightly.

The old man dropped his other hand down onto her shorts and with some difficulty; he managed to lower them down over her hips -- she wasn't wearing any underwear he noticed smugly.

"Lying was he? Yep...he's full of shit, little smart-arse. Hate ta think he got his fuckin' long cock into ya before I did...fucking bullshitter!"

"Tom...that's enough now...you've had your fun...get...get out of it would you...Tom!" Rebecca said shakily in a lowered tone, "You're not going...ooh Tom stop it...you...you can't have sex with me!"

Gripping the edge of the sink almost in shock, Rebecca barely noticed as he slid her denim shorts all the way down to the floor. Her head was spinning telling her to run, but she felt frozen on the spot, just like the night before! She felt him rub her buttocks -- squeezing them several times, and then slide his hand around to her front.

"Hmm...nice little pussy too...ya flaps feel a bit puffy I think. Are they always like this? Or only after you been on ya back fucking all day?"

"I...I don't believe you are doing this to me...Tom...I want to go," she pleaded.

Tom ignored her pleas. Instead, he kicked her legs apart, allowing his fingers better access to her wet slit. With one hand firmly gripping her vulva and with a certain degree of dexterity, he used his other hand to unbuckle his dirty old jeans.

Rebecca lowered her head; she could feel him pressing against her bare flesh, "Not here...we can't do it here! Tom...someone might come in!"

"I don't give a fuck if they do...they's can watch for all I care...ya fucken' husband too, if he wants ta."

Rebecca felt the big man push her in the middle of the back till she was bent over the sink. Panic swept over her at the reality of what was about to happen.

"Tom...don't tell my husband...please...he mustn't find out...aah, steady...oooh," Rebecca closed her eyes when she felt him prodding at her opening.

Looking down at the woman's pretty buttocks, Tom gripped his fat slug in his right hand and bent his knees to better line himself up with her hairless slit. He smiled to himself -- she probably had the prettiest little cunt he had ever seen too!

He wasted little time on formalities and pressed his bulbous knob against her vagina and lent in.

"Oooh gawd...easy...oooh Tom...please take it easy...Christ, how big is that thing!" Rebecca moaned almost painfully. Even after the thorough fucking she had received from young Johnny only a few hours ago, she felt herself being stretched open like a virgin!

Once in almost the whole way, Tom gripped her shapely hips and began to fuck her in earnest. Within moments, she squealed and moaned incoherently and her arms thrashed about trying to prevent him from going in too far. But she only succeeding in knocking some of the dishes off the sink -- crashing them down onto the floor

"Nice...heh..heh..heh," Tom chuckled, "Fucking whole week of this, Bec! You gonna love it!" he said sadistically, watching his fat slug disappear into her straining hole.

There were still plenty more fish to fillet. Doug looked at the other two men -- sizing them up, but he said nothing, he felt sickened to the stomach.

Johnny looked back at the man in front of him and smiled; even under the yellow fluorescent light he thought he looked pale.

Although they were standing some fifteen metres or more from the donga, and the generator droned steadily in a shed nearby, the sound coming from inside was quite unmistakable.

"Reckon me old uncle is helping out your wife with the dishes, Dougie."

The sound of another plate crashing to the concrete floor overshadowed the other noises briefly.

Johnny smiled at Doug callously, as he listened to the methodical thumping of what he rightly guessed was the kitchen sink bench hitting against the wall.

The lad expertly sliced the skin off a few more of the larger fillets, still listening. Within moments, the tempo increased rapidly, till it stopped quite suddenly, and a deep groan carried clearly through the night air.

Johnny didn't take his eyes of Doug and when the older man looked up and caught his gaze, Johnny raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement of what had just taken place in the donga.

"Hey Craig...reckon you should maybe see if Dougie's wife needs a hand with them dishes...don't think it's fair we's leaving it all up ta her and me uncle, do you?"

Craig had been quite silent for sometime, keeping aloof from the proceedings and just getting on with the task of preparing the days haul for the freezer. He looked over at Doug briefly, then back over at Johnny.

"Dunno mate, reckon them dishes pretty well done for the night," he glanced back to Doug for a moment and thought he detected a look of relief in his countenance, "Maybe I'll help her out tomorrow night...yep, my turn ta help out Dougie's wife tomorrow," he said almost unambiguously.

Johnny laughed derisively, "Mighty fucken nice of ya, mate...I reckon I'll help her out with the breakfast dishes then...if I can wait that long!"

"Hey Dougie ya limp-dick! Fucken reckon we'll all be helpin' out that pretty little wife of yours for the rest of tha week...whadda ya think about that, ya fucken cock-head?"

Doug was dumbfounded, never before in all his years had he been spoken to like that! His peers respected him; he was considered a man's man and treated accordingly. But here he was out in the middle of nowhere, having some little snotty-nosed smart-arse give him grief! His stomach was in a tight knot -- he could not believe what he thought he had just heard coming from inside -- he did not want to believe it, more to the point! Doug wanted to lash-out, but for one of the first times in his life, he was afraid!

The three of them finished cleaning the fish silently, packing the large chest freezer. It would be full by the end of the week, ready for Cranky to pick it all up and take it into town to sell it to the restaurants. The restaurants loved the stuff and they paid well for it, although somewhat less than what the commercial fishermen often asked for it -- but they did have expensive fishing licences to pay for.

Opening the side door to the donga and entering the dining room, Doug filed in behind the other two. Big Tom was sitting in his usual spot, still drinking beer. He had a big smile on his weathered face like that of the proverbial Cheshire cat! Rebecca was seated to his right, with half a glass of wine in front of her.

Doug looked from Tom to his wife -- she avoided his scrutiny for a few moments, then picking up her glass and taking a large sip she looked up at him briefly, her face blushing, she smiled weakly and looked back down at her glass of wine.

"All done then?" Tom asked boisterously.

Doug nodded.

"Good ta hear...we're all done too ain't we little lady," Tom said, making a show of rubbing her firmly on her thigh up near the frayed leg of her shorts.

"Um...I...I think I'll go to bed...if you all don't mind?" Rebecca stammered softly.

Doug coughed nervously while watching his wife, then nodded to her just as Craig offered him a can of beer. Accepting the beer, he watched silently as his wife stood up from the table and moved along so as to squeeze past the back of Tom's chair.

"Hang on pet...before ya go, give an ol'man a peck goodnight, hey," Tom said, reaching behind her and drawing her in close, his hand planted firmly on her backside.

Rebecca looked at her husband for support, but this time his gaze faltered and he looked down at his can of beer, opening it instead.

Old Tom shifted around and guided Rebecca down onto his knee, "Thas better, pet. Now don't be shy in front of ya hubby...give ol'Tom a smooch," Tom said, his hand resting on her thigh again.

Rebecca allowed herself to be drawn toward the big, ruddy face of her tormentor and closed her eyes. She clearly smelt the beer-breath of the old man as he planted his thick lips over hers, engulfing them completely, and his fat tongue forcing its way into her mouth.

He kissed her deeply for several seconds, rapidly moving his right hand up and under her singlet and straight to her breast, squeezing it firmly as further recompense.

"Thanks pet...you a fuckin' good kisser too, I reckon," Tom sniggered as they broke apart, "Yep, you gonna make an ol'man happy for the next few days, ain't ya?" he suggested, still fondling her breast under her top.

"Maybe..." Rebecca answered demurely as she looked briefly toward her husband.

"Hey Dougie...would you mind if I show me mate Craig 'ere ya wife's pretty little titties? I believe me young nephew over there has already had tha pleasure."

Tom didn't wait for a response from Doug, he merely lifted up the front of Rebecca's thin top as high as her neck, and still holding it, he pulled her shoulders back, forcing her bare breasts to jut out in the direction of Craig sitting not more than two feet away.

"Well...whadda ya reckon mate? Fuckin' little beauties, hey? Look at them fuckin big fat nipples...given me another fat just looken at 'em again."

"Doug!" Rebecca cried out, "Aren't you going to say something? Doug?"

Doug swallowed deeply, "Tom, that's enough thanks, let her go please!"

Tom looked over at Doug with bemusement, "Oh! Sure...sorry Dougie...didn't think ya cared!"

Tom continued to look at Doug, Rebecca's breasts were still on display, and he lowered his hands from her shoulders...straight onto her breasts and rolled her hardened nipples around for a few moments till they were fully engorged.

"See ya in the mornin', pet," Tom whispered in her ear, before finally releasing her.

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