A Fishing Trip, But I'm The Baitbystickygirl©
With so many great writers I feel a little awed by the company but, a good story is a good story and since I've enjoyed reading other contributions so much, I thought perhaps my own might give other readers the same pleasure? All my stories are fantasies and of course nothing at all is based on my own experiences... not a thing ;-)
I won't say how old I was but I was waiting to start university and recently become mad keen on fishing. Looking back I think fishing was just an excuse to get away from my folks, taking some steps towards independence and getting up early, before the world had awoken, to take my motorbike on an adventure.
I studied maps of areas within reach where I could fish, which meant on a river, since I lived so far from the coast. I had to make sure I had the right licence for that reach of river and decided a month's visitor licence would see me through most of the holidays. My mother had bought me my first fishing rod but I had moved on to a full size river rod, with all the bits and pieces that fishermen seem to love as much as the fishing.
I cleared everything at home so that they knew where I would be and when to expect me home. The evening before I was so excited: I packed all my gear, put a warm jacket and waterproofs ready by the back door and checked my bike for fuel. I set the alarm for 5am, which meant leaving in the dark, but it would just be light by the time I reached the river.
My hand hit the alarm just a split second before it actually rang - you know how some clocks just make a different noise at that moment? The bedside light made a pool of light in which I quickly dressed and tiptoed downstairs, carefully avoiding the creaky steps. A quick cup of coffee later and I stepped out into a fresh day, pulling the door to so that it just made the smallest of clicks as it closed. The air chilled my face, my breath making puffs of smoke and I was glad of the gloves I borrowed from my mother as I pushed the bike down the drive so the noise wouldn't wake the house. Once on the road the little engine purred into life and I was off. I had to concentrate on the road because the little headlight was no better than a torch but it was enough as this speed machine would only get up to 30mph at best!
It was a long hour and a cold one when I finally arrived in a muddy lane next to the river. I was glad to turn the engine off because the constant drone was tedious and my ears were ringing a little as I pulled my helmet off, shook my hair free and locked the bike. The dawning fields were silent but for the calls of crows.
I made my way along the riverbank to hunt out a likely spot, finally picking one where the ground was formed in a channel in which I could shelter. Below me the muddy water swirled silently. I arranged my gear, quickly threading the line with cold hands through all the rings and struggled tying on the hook, float and weights. With a wriggling worm attached I made my first cast and watched with satisfaction as the orange float settled in the water.
I stood up and looked up the riverbank but I was the only person in sight. I was used to being on my own, having two older sisters, who didn't have much time for me, so I made my own amusement. Sometimes they'd used to make me join in their games but often that would include getting dressed up: the usual thing I guess for younger brothers, because girls seem to take a pleasure in tormenting their little siblings. When they reached the dating age they used to test out make up on me and, although I objected on principle, I enjoyed the physical attention and the delicate touch of their hands on my face. I wasn't going to end up much taller than them but shared their same long limbs, light frame and blond hair.
So sitting daydreaming of silly moments with them was a good way to pass the time and I found myself smiling occasionally at particular memories.
I must have been very much lost in thought because when a voice behind me spoke I nearly jumped out my skin.
"You're a new face - got your licence lad?"
I assumed it must be the warden and spluttering apologies I quickly reached to retrieve it from my kitbag.
"Aw, don't worry, I ain't the warden but you'd better make sure you've got one or you'll be in trouble". The man was kitted out in traditional fisherman's gear with long camouflage jacket, dark trousers and leather boots, scuffed with mud. He was a tall powerful man and it was difficult to see his face against the brightening sky behind him, but I could see the glint of a smile.
"Well I've got the licence - at least I think it's the right one for this stretch of water," I replied handing him the folded paper. He reached down to me with a big hand used to hard work.
"Let me see. ... Yep this will let you wander all the way up to next road, about a mile along the way. What's your name?"
"John", I replied.
He nodded without replying but just fixed me with a stare that made me a little uncomfortable.
"See you then", he said before walking away out of sight along the bank. I felt a bit irritated to have my solitude interrupted but since my train of thoughts had been broken I poured a coffee from my thermos, setting the cup carefully in a patch of grass. I pulled my line in to check the bait and had the rod lying against the bank when I heard someone approaching.
It was the same man again and he paused before picking his way down the steep bank beside me.
"What bait are you using?" he asked.
"Uh huh." He stood facing river whilst I tried to look like I knew what I was doing.
"Know what to do with this?" he said turning toward me. I looked at his hand not knowing what to expect when I realised he was holding his cock. It was semi hard and he was stroking slowly, pulling the foreskin back and forth.
I was stunned and stuck for any words. He took half a step toward me so that his cock was at my eye level. I felt frightened of an adult man doing something like this but oddly curious because I'd never seen a grown up cock up close, I found my hand reaching out. I hesitated for a moment but he took my wrist and firmly placed my hand on his growing member. I was struck by its warmth, how thin the skin felt over the hard flesh underneath. I could feel his pulse in my hand and steam rose off the surface of its purple head.
"I ... I ...," I stammered.
He snatched his cock out my hand and tucked it back into his trousers, looking about him furtively as he pulled the zip up.
"If you want some more of that, come over to those old garages down the field. I'll wait twenty minutes, give you time to decide. If you decide to leave, that's fine - I'll see you walking away. Otherwise leave your gear set up with no bait on the hook, but make no mistake why you're coming over to me. Understood? And don't let anyone see you? Got it?"
Without waiting for a reply he was gone.
My mind spun. I looked up and down the river: no one had seen us tucked down in this little hollow and I'd only seen a couple of other fishermen walking quietly up the bank in the hour or so I'd arrived. I looked at the hand which had held the man's prick and could still feel the warmth of it. I slowly put the hand to my face: there was a faint smell of man. My heart was beating so fast, it thumped in my chest ... but I wasn't frightened. I sniffed my hand again and found the scent made me calmer, it made the situation more real somehow: my imagination wasn't playing tricks! There was something else too - my own little dick was trying to straighten itself out in a pair of knickers where there wasn't room.
If I had listened to all the warnings, to all the hinted advice from my mother, I wouldn't have done what I found myself doing because I cast the line out into the water with no bait and propped the rod against the rest. I paused again. I could still pack everything up and go home but my stiff prick was telling me something else. I climbed up the bank and peered out across the field. I could see a track running across the field to dilapidated out-buildings. Shit. What should I do? I wasn't entirely an innocent, having played with other boy's cocks at school - behind the bike shed - you know the kind of thing? That had felt good, so here was a chance to do it with a grown up....and it was a big prick.
I decided to leave all my gear just as it was so that if someone were to come along they would just assume a fisherman had popped back to his car or something.
I stepped up onto the grass of the field and looked up and down. There was still no one in sight so I casually walked along the bank to where the track led to the buildings. At the track I looked around again to check if the coast were clear. This was it: I strode more purposefully towards the cluster of buildings.
The buildings were thronged with stinging nettles and as I was threading my way through I heard fingers clicking and saw the man's hand beckoning from a half open door. He was standing in the shadows just inside and he stopped me at the doorway. "Listen John - let's get this straight - you know why you're here don't you?"
I just nodded. I wasn't sure what to say. When I was at school it was nerve wracking making first contact with another boy and it was certainly no easier with a man I didn't even know.
He drew me inside by my shoulder and dragged the broken door closed behind us. Inside a little daylight filtered in through overgrown windows and there was rubbish scattered about on the broken floor. An old sofa stood in the middle of the room and another room led off to one side. It reminded me of old buildings I had explored near home, where I used to hang out and secretly read porno mags so I actually liked the musty smell.
"Smoke?" he asked sitting back on the dusting cushions.
"Good - they're bad for you," he said before lighting up and blowing a column of smoke high into the air above him.
"Right. Kit off then John," he announced matter of factly.
"Eh? What here?" I said a little taken aback.
He leaned forward in his chair. "Take - you're - clothes - off. I want to see if your body's as pretty as your face: you are gorgeous you know. You don't think I'd try this with just anyone? When I saw you at the river I thought I'd stumbled over an angel. So don't disappoint me. Take you clothes off."
This last sentence was said with a tone that denied further discussion: he was very direct and powerful in every way.
I looked around me to see where I could lay my clothes without them getting dirty. Since there was nowhere other than the floor, I took my coat off and laid it out like a blanket. I glanced up at the man who was still leaning forward, intently fixing me with his dark eyes. Taking off my jumper, shoes and trousers was easy: I was still covered up, but going further made me feel terribly naked and vulnerable. Goosebumps covered my skin as I slid off my shirt and stood feeling stupid in my underpants, which were tented out with my stiff little erection.
"Stop there, John. Turn around when you take them off. I want see your little bottom first." He was now sitting back in the sofa, his fingers pinching his cigarette he was forgetting to smoke.
I turned about, now standing on my jacket and carpet of still-warm clothes and realised there was a mirror leaning against the wall, quite dusty and dirty but I could make out the my body stooping to remove my knickers.
"Slowly, slowly John! Pull them down slowly!"
By now the waistband was sliding over the cheeks of my bottom and I heard a gasp from behind me.
"Bloody hell! What a cute little bum." He stood as he spoke and things cracked under his boots as he stepped forward. The waistband was past my thighs and I let them drop in a little heap round my ankles. I could feel his breath on my neck and then lower as his squatted down behind me. I hadn't touched me but I shivered in anticipation. There was silence apart from our breathing. His hands came to rest either side of my hips and I gasped.
"Shush now. It's OK. Are my hands cold?"
"No. Sorry, you just made me jump." He was running his hands gently up and down my sides, his thumbs tracing a line over the curve of my bottom. I felt his face pressing into my back and then a kiss on the dimples above my bottom.
"Come, come. I'm making you nervous. Come over to the seat and lets do what we both want eh?"
He took my hand in his and led me to the seat. I hobbled across in my bare feet to avoid the sharp stones on the floor. He took his jacket off and laid it at his feet and I was grateful that I could stand more comfortably. He motioned me to kneel down and drifted his hand over my balls as I sank down. I was now kneeling between his open legs.
"Unzip me." He ordered. I fumbled with the clasp, my task not made any easier because he was sitting. I could see the fabric of his underpants inside with brown frizzy hair poking out round the sides.
"Go ahead. Take him out. I know you want to." He was right there but despite the excitement I found the experience a little disgusting too, because it was very different dealing with a man rather than with friends at school. His prick was hard like a truncheon and flat against his stomach and it was going to be difficult to pull it out without hurting him. He sensed my discomfort and pushed his hips forward to give me better access. His purple head was already over his waistband so I grasped onto his shaft and eased the material down with my other hand. At last it was free and lay beating in my hand, my fingers not quite long enough to touch around it.
He shifted his weight and tugged the rest of the material over his hips so his huge balls were resting on the fabric of the seat. I cupped them with my other hand as gently as though they were little birds then looked him in the face.
"What do you think?" he asked with a smile.
"Wow! It's really big. Really hard. Am I, am I doing this right?" My own little dick was ultra sensitive so I wanted to be careful not to hurt him.
"Your doing fine, my little sweet. Nice and gently at first and give it a little kiss when you're ready."
A kiss? I wasn't sure what he meant but as my hand continued to slide his skin back and forth over the hard flesh inside I leant forward to give it a little peck. The scent of his organ immediately filled my senses. I felt overpowered by my emotions. I felt disgust but there was something deeper, more animal inside me that reared up and wanted more. I let my top lip rest on his exposed gland for a moment then licked my tongue tentatively underneath. I heard him give a faltering groan and licked again, stretching my tongue out as far as I could to touch the lowest part of his head that I had exposed with a downward stroke of my hand. Now I could taste his sex. I could taste the animal tang that mixed sweat with urine and felt intoxicated by it. I buried my face into his groin, into his pubic hair and drew a deep breath of his acrid smells.
I returned to my task, fondling his balls that hung heavily on one hand and picked up the pace with the other, stroking the long heat of his shaft. I could no longer resist the animal feelings inside me and plunged his whole purple head into my mouth. More groans followed from the man as he rested a hand on the back of my head. Every breath I took filled my nose with more of his aroma and I stroked faster and faster urging his climax. His hips were now flexing forward with each stroke and my tongue swirled in circles over his bulging head.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," he hissed through gritted teeth.
As though in slow motion I felt his cock throb violently in my beating hand and knew what to expect next but his first load of come took my by surprise. I had never sucked off anyone before so the sudden deluge of hot jizz in my mouth made me recoil and I spat it out, but he trapped my head in front of his spurting cock. He wrenched me forward and aimed his tool at me so that the next, much bigger shot, slopped across my mouth and up my nose. I put my hand up to wipe it away just as the next load hit my forehead and into my blond hair from where it ran over an eyebrow onto my eyelid. He pulled my head in closer still, wanting to dump the rest of his jizz into my open mouth but I kept my lips sealed so that the final three or four squirts ran off my chin and dropped cold onto my folded legs.
He shuddered as his climax peaked and he was holding his angry red cock in a tight fist as he wiped the last few drops over my lips, my cheeks and into my fast shut eyes. I was awed by the strength of his climax and felt I had drawn on his very soul and this precious liquid came from deep within him, from his core. He slumped back into the seat and smiled down at me, shaking his head slightly.
"You're too gorgeous: you must be a girl at heart. I name you Jane!" he laughed stroking an outstretched finger through the wet mess of cooling sperm on my face. He examined a smear of jizz on his finger and held it forward toward me. "I guess that was your first time but don't ever waste my come again. The proper place is in your mouth or in your cunt."
"I'm sorry. I thought I was going to choke. I'm sorry." I stammered.
"Then clean my finger and clear up any other drops you can find. There's some on your legs."
I took the end of his finger in my mouth, looking up at him. The taste was a mix of bitter cigarette and salty syrup. I collected the rivulets of come from my skin with my fingers, licking them clean.
"You've still got some in your hair," he smiled.
"Where? I can't see it." I said pulling the few locks of hair into view.
"Up a bit. This side."
I started giggling, "Where?!"
"Here." He bent forward and put his mouth to a patch of hair over my forehead and began sucking the thinning liquid from it.
"Mmm." He pointed at his closed mouth, motioning with his forefinger to come closer to him. He lifted my chin with a hand and pressed his lips to mine.
These were so many firsts in one day. I had never French kissed before and my first one was going to be with a man. The stumble on his face prickled my skin and his lips were hard, but then everything about him seemed built of
muscle. His tongue invaded my mouth and explored it hungrily. His eyes were closed under his dark lashes. I closed mine too, taking the role of his passive girl.
There was a silence as we drew apart. A smile broadened on his face that warmed me through and I simply smiled back with a blush. I was falling for this man. This wasn't a hurried grope with my friends at school for he was a big, grown up, all muscle, all hairy, smelly, strong man who was noticing me. Little me!
My thoughts were broken as he placed his hands on my arms and stood me up.
"What's your name now?" he asked.
"Um.. Jane. My name is Jane," I replied, liking the sound of my new persona.
"Well turn around Jane. One good turn deserves another."
I did as I was told and, sitting forward on the seat, his pulled me back to him. My bottom was at the same height as his face as he gripped my hips and pulled my cheeks apart with his thumbs. I blushed again with shame for no one had ever looked at me there but more embarrassment followed as I felt his face press into my flesh and his tongue darted over my puckered opening.
His tongue traced circles around my ring that tickled but when he probed into me I felt a deeper, hot sensation that ran right through me. I was stooped slightly, with my bottom pulled back and I let my hand begin to play with my penis, which had been hard for so long it was almost painful.
"No!" he hissed, grabbing my hand away and then landing a hard slap on my bottom, making me yelp. "I'll decide when you touch yourself. Did I tell you to touch yourself?"
"Sorry, I just thought..."
"Listen Jane, I'll make you come, but not that way." He replied with that stern voice again.