Early Release

He suddenly had a question: "Just a moment, if you knew they don't hand you out a fortune, who was going to pay for my gear?"

Cushla colored.

Bass turned away so she couldn't see his eyes.

Bass's only extravagance was to buy leather-sole shoes for the dancing. He chose a short-sleeved white shirt with rear pleats falling from the yoke, a pair of blue and white striped underpants and a pair of black trousers, with Cushla insisting he buy one size smaller than he'd chosen after test-fitting.

They began walking Main Street but found the town's three restaurants closed which was something Cushla had overlooked.

"People here work in the day, play at night and weekends," she said. "We get virtually no tourists through here and Australian travelers drive on to eat at a truck stop – the nearest one is 23 miles from here – do you want to go there?"

"No, the pub."

"It's lunchtime, it may be a bit rough."

"So?"

They went in and the crowd around the bar parted and Cushla was greeted affectionately, often by name.

Bass ordered a couple of lagers and someone nearby called, "Are you a pansy?"

The bar fell silent.

Bass turned and saw the crowed had parted, leaving a bearded man standing alone, holding a glass of very dark beer.

"Yes mate, should we go upstairs?"

The big fellow looked terrified, Cushla called "Of course he's not" and everyone laughed. The landlord said "Your lagers are on the house, Cushla."

The guys crowded round.

Cushla said Bass had been a training specialist in the army years ago and he was questioned extensively about unarmed combat. Later a number of the men accompanied Cushla and Bass into the dinning room where the dish of the day was ox tongue and the dessert bread and butter pudding.

A cheer swept through the dinning room when a young embarrassed waitress brought a bottle of wine to Cushla's table. She struggled to uncork it and a daring young man leaped up, circled her with his arms and assisted her with the job. Her champion kissed her, and she kissed him right back, unleashing another cheer through the room.

"Shouldn't these guys be at work?"

"It's Friday, and guys tend to have a long lunch hour on Fridays – go into shops and offices and other businesses and you'll see practically only women and young lads at work."

"Gee, that's not fair."

"Like me to stand up and tell this mob that you think they should be back at work?

"What's wrong, Bass. You've gone very white!"

Cushla and Bass arrived back home and 3:00 and she immediately pulled a bottle of wine from the fridge and took it and two glasses outside.

"I enjoy the occasional break-out," she said, pouring Bass a glass of a blended red.

After dinner they both looked pie-eyed.

"Sleep well, Bass," Cushla said, kissing him gently on the lips. "I'm really looking forward to tomorrow night."

Bass was almost asleep when he realized sleeping in the shed was obviously off the agenda.

Three

The next evening Bass did the dinner dishes and Cushla disappeared for almost one and a half hours. He got ready in fifteen minutes, including a long shower.

He was watching a TV replay of the top Ruby League game from the previous evening when Cushla swept into the room; his jaw dropped.

Her streaky blonde hair was piled on top of her head and she'd got a matching bit from somewhere that dropped like a pony tail. She certainly had more hair than at dinner time.

Instead of lipstick she had some really shiny glossy stuff and her tan had been toned down and she had glitter on her cheeks.

Then his eyes widened. She had on a tight blue-green dress of very thin material with lots of gatherings and a gold tie cord around the waist - she was bra-less. And that was not a guess as Bass could see the outline of them through the semi-transparent dress.

Looking down a bit he could see the outline of bikini panties. Holy shit! He started counting backwards from 100 to get his mind off bare tits and whatever to keep his dick calm.

"You look gorgeous," he said, and she bowed, giving him an eyeful of bulging flesh. He looked back up and found himself under grave scrutiny.

A smile broke out and Cushla said, "That was a lovely compliment. Thank you. I've tried so hard for you."

Bass said come on, and rushed the door, his mind reeling.

Exactly what had she meant by that – she only meant to look good as his partner to the dance, or did she? No wonder they had this program for prisoner release rehabilitation – it was fucking necessary!

"Wait for me!" called Cushla, as Bass was already through the garden gate and moving off to the old barn.

She caught up with him, putting an arm through his and began walking with difficulty over the terrain which was becoming increasingly rougher.

"Damn, I should have worn regular shoes and carried these good ones."

Bass turned and lifted Cushla into his arms.

"Oooh, this is nice," she said, kissing him lightly below the ear. At that, Bass was sure she'd be feeling her cock stiffening against her butt. He cringed.

He dropped her gently to her feet inside the barn and strode forward and opened the passenger door for her. He then jumped in and waited for her to hand him the keys.

"What are we waiting for?"

"I need the keys."

"You have them."

"No I don't"

She giggled, saying they must be hanging up on the wall in the kitchen above the telephone.

They danced a little awkwardly, but ignored that, talking about things and the people around them; just good solid small conversation. Bass loved the feeling of her body against his, but did not comment about that. He often caught her looking at him. Her expression was always soft at such moments. Excited expectations began building.

Unfortunately he was unable to complete a dance with her, as men were lining up to dance with Cushla.

On one of these occasions he was seized by powerful hands – it was the woman in boots from the academy he'd sat with and her friends while their daughters were having a lesson. Now what was her name?

"Hi, I'm Paula, you'll remember me from the academy."

They'd only gone a few steps when the dance finished.

"You move well, can you really dance?"

"A little."

"The Cha Cha?"

"Yes."

"Hoi, Stan. The Cha Cha!" she called in a very strong voice.

"You have a good voice."

"I get it from my mum, you know her – she's Maud Evans, and she's talking to Cushla."

Good heavens, this giant of a woman Maud's daughter? Bass looked and saw Maud talking earnestly to Cushla, moving her hands a lot, with Cushla listening intently. Must be talking recipes.

The Cha Cha music started and most of the dancers left the floor. Then Paula said, "Let's go," and really began turning it on. She was brilliant.

"You're great."

"Mum's a dancing teacher."

The remaining dancers left the floor and Bass totally concentrated on doing his best, helped by Paula giving him instructions. People were clapping to the rhythm and Bass felt elated – he felt removed from his past.

The dance finished and people were cheering. He and Paula finished with him down on one knee and Paula draped over it, arm outstretched.

She swung up on to his knee, and facing him, asked casually, "Want to come outside – that dance arouses me. Her hand grasped Bass between his legs.

Bass felt violated; he was saving himself for Cushla. For God's sake, Paula was married with at least two children and her husband was over there at the bar.

"Or is this for Cushla?"

"I'm one of your mother's ex-prisoner placements, Paula."

"I know, and that why I want you," she said as they got to their feet, the band beginning a fox-trot. "I think of being the one getting that first shot away – I fancy it would be rather like having a born-again virgin deep up my spout."

"Sorry, Paula."

"It's okay," she said, looking at Cushla. "Who can blame you? Perhaps some other time?"

"Perhaps."

"You two, you looked so wonderful together out there; you looked made for each other," said Cushla, greeting them.

"How I wish," smiled Paula, staring at Bass and then sighing, "I guess I better go and say hullo to my husband."

"She's got the hots for you," Cushla giggled. "Are you aware she's Maud's elder daughter?"

"Yes."

"Well, arrange something – you can take the ute."

"I don't want anyone else, Cushla."

Cushla didn't turn away: she allowed Bass to see her blush and to see her eyes that had now turned from mid blue to almost navy. He lips opened and the whisper came: "Take me tonight."

Bass stepped forward and hugged her, saying, "Shall we dance."

Remarkably Cushla began dancing much better, and the longer they went on the better she appeared to become. It was as if Maud had taken her aside and tutored her, but they hadn't been time.

When they returned to the table with six other, all strangers to Bass but they were friendly, he and Cushla sat together and held hands.

"What happened? You danced very well then."

"Maud had been watching me earlier and talked to me about it when you were doing that Latin American thing with Paula. Maud urged me to relax, saying I appeared to be dancing at the music, rather than with it – that I should think of the music flowing across me like water and try to keep my body in synch. She also said I should go belly to belly with you and let you make all the moves – she was talking about dancing, of course," Cushla giggled.

Four

They stood in the kitchen, no longer hand in hand. Bass was sweating a little and not only because of the summer heat.

"What now?"

"Come into the bedroom with me."

"Don't you want to slip into bed first?"

"No, I want you to undress me and to love me because we do it."

"I might get a hard on while undressing you."

"I'd be very disappointed if it didn't."

"Is this against the rules of the rehabilitation league?"

"Yes, but I gave Maud my resignation verbally tonight just before we left the hall, and will write it out in the morning."

"You'll do that for me?"

"Yes, and also very much for me. I want this to happen, Bass."

In the bedroom Bass fiddled around trying to undo Cushla's necklace while kissing her lips and face. She let him struggle with the clasp; there was no hurry.

Her dress dropped to the floor and she stepped out of it, now in only in her panties, thigh high lace-topped stockings and high heel shoes.

May I, he said with his eyes and expression.

Cushla nodded and Bass dropped his mouth on to her felt breast. She put out her hand and drew him closer, the hand then moving up to bury itself into his brown curly hair. Their emotions were a little different, Bass's stirring as though he was on a hunting trip, and Cushla's making her feel all warm and fuzzy as if she were at peace with herself at last.

Looking down at the breast muzzler, Cushla was happy that he was enjoying himself so much over so little. Bass's eye she could see was closed and she hadn't realized he had such long, fabulous eye lashes; who'd need false extensions with eyelashes like those! She leaned down and kissed the top of his head, then worked her hands in to begin unbuttoning Bass's shirt, he moving his right side out of the way.

It had been a long time since Cushla had a penis in her hands and then into her, but she couldn't get at his belt from this position as his stomach was bent forward, unwittingly blocking access to his belt. She settled back, content to continuing giving the occasional kiss to his head as her desires built up.

Finally she could wait no longer, and placing both hands on Bass's head began applying pressure. As his head came off her breast she felt his wet tongue slowly leave a snail-like trail down her chest and across her belly and as it went over the front of her bikini panties she fought a strong urge to scream.

"Lick me! It was meant to be a sexy little whisper but emerged as a hoarse shout, her voice now thick with emotion.

She jerked her panties down and felt the tongue part her hair to reach the labia; Cushla was regretting that she'd discarded the practice of shaving completely and resolved to resume in the morning. The tongue pushed forward and Cushla shuddered into a surprisingly early orgasm, though perhaps not surprising. Her skin was on fire.

Eagerly Cushla widened her stance and grasping two handfuls of his hair pulled him against her, wanting that tongue in deeply. She threw her head back and groaned, knowing she was close as she'd ever be to her concept of a primeval woman in similar circumstances. With that moment ending, Cushla grinned, wondering was the original pussy-licking about in those times or did he not emerge until many generations later.

Bass's tongue began rolling over her clit, a finger dug deep down into the opposite end of her vagina and blood roared to her face, breasts and midriff and she slumped forward ejaculating. She was dimly aware that gushing like this had occurred once or twice in the distant past, but so what – this was now!

She groaned and groaned softly, her arms held out rigidly against Bass for support and gave a series of short pelvic thrusts against his lapping tongue to show him that she cared and was helping him to milk her fluids.

Bass's head pulled back. He was red-faced and smiling, his chin dripping fluid.

"Boy, aren't you something," he grinned.

An automatic response would have been to sweetly say something like, "Why thank you, kind sir," but instead she heard herself whine, "Let me at it, Bass – p-l-e-a-s-e."

He chuckled, stood back slightly to drop his trousers and underpants. Cushla had slipped to her knees and as soon as his cock flipped into view she'd slid her mouth over and down it and was sucking as hard as she could go. The gentle introduction to it – licking the tip, holding it up to admire it, fingering his testicles and oohing that had filled him mind in bed over several nights had suddenly gone. She'd gone from cold-start to a full-on and sloppy blow job in half a second flat!

Bass, damn him, just stood there enjoying the moment: why weren't his hands on her breasts? That though, really not critical, caused Cushla to lift her tempo, then when two of his fingers circled the inside part of her ears she tried to do the impossible – scream with a fat dick down her throat.

The scream sounded like a deep-seated long grunt and she picked up the speed and raced on until she felt she was becoming fatigued. What was the use of all her running and gym work if she couldn't perform an all-night blowjob?

Frustrated, Cushla slowed right down to conserve energy and slowly pulled her mouth back, gently scraping her teeth along the length until it hit the beginning of the helmet-like tip. Just as she was beginning to wonder what to do next the penis jerked and a shot of cum entered her mouth.

She jerked back almost in fright, because there had been no sign of it coming.

Splat, spat: spurts of cum were now hitting her face and then he pulled back and shots were landing on her tits and he was going "Yippee" as if he were a cowboy riding a bucking horse. It was a moment that Cushla thought she'd never forget; never.

Five

After their passion subsided to a more sustainable level a couple of days later, Cushla and Bass got themselves into a lovely working/socializing relationship during the remaining days of their three weeks together.

They still more or less went at it like eighteen year olds, though, as both had had months of deprivation.

On the morning after their first night of bonding, Bass told Cushla about his fall from grace.

He'd been working as a dispatch manager for a courier company and at a Friday night farewell for a manager over-imbibed and was apprehended at a road block testing for drivers over the alcohol limit.

Bass took objections to the smart-ass comments of the burly sergeant as he was being processed for being over the alcohol limit, so received a whack over his head and woke up in police cells.

The judge found him guilty and remanded Bass on bail for sentencing.

Bass grinned wryly and told how he saw the judge on the street a couple of days later and attempted to talk to him but the judge told him to go away.

He said he persisted, wanting to tell the judge about police brutality but the judge attempted to brush Bass's hand away, so Bass dug his fingers in and the judge let him have his say. As Bass walked away two carloads of police special force personnel arrived, surrounded Bass and took him away, handcuffed.

At the hearing on that charge of assault, Bass called out that the Judge, a witness against him, was exaggerating about the force used, and was told to apologize but refused, so was dinged for contempt of Court. That same Judge that dinged him for contempt took over the sentencing for drunk driving and resisting arrest, so in the end he faced fourteen months in jail.

"But that's despicable, unjust – it's horrendous. You've got to expose this injustice."

"I tried – sent my story to three newspapers while in prison, and received back only one reply, which told me to finish my sentence and then behave myself. Apparently none of them bothered to question me to ascertain basic facts."

At the end of three weeks, Bass was packed ready to go.

"Don't go," cried Cushla, tears falling.

"I've got to find a new life, darling. Apart from you, there's nothing for me here. Unemployment in the town is almost 20% for males."

"You'll find something, you're a good man."

"So are most of other unemployed blokes, Cushla. Do I walk or will you drive me to the bus station?"

Cushla handed him the keys.

"Here, it's yours. I've already transferred the vehicle to you – the documents are on the front seat; all you need to do is sign them and post them off."

"I can't take this, I'm not worth it."

"Oh, you don't know just how much you are worth to me, Bass. It is you who's given me my life back. Take it, please. Don't upset me."

At the ute they kissed for a very long time, and then Cushla stepped back and told him to go, still not weeping.

"I'm not going to look back, I can't," he said, eyes brimming.

She just nodded, and he drove off, very slowly.

Cushla watched until he disappeared and then went off inside to mope.

SIX

A yellow ute drew up outside the house and Bass went inside but Cushla was not there. He noticed the table set for two, and two wine glasses were on the table.

There was a noise behind him, he turned and saw Cushla with a pathetic bunch of wild flowers, the only flowers she had available in this heat.

"Ready for lunch?" was he greeting.

"Hullo," he said, almost shyly. "You knew that I would come back?"

"Oh yes, the only surprise is that it took you so long."

"I sat thinking for a bit. I reckon if we relocate in..."

"Bass, would you like to go farming with me?"

"When?"

"As soon as you wish to start."

"That's a very kind offer, but do you have a farm?"

"Yes, we're on it. This is the nor-western boundary and this is a married stockman's house in the days when everything was done on horse-back."

"You're no kidding, are you?"

"Nope, when I sold up my parent's holdings in Victoria I bought this place, all 54,372 hectares of it."

"Cripes, 50,000 hectares – that's practically as large as some European countries."

"I don't really think so, darling, but it's small compared with some of the stations in the far north."

"Why do you want to go farming rather than stay in your present position, which seems pretty comfortable?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Well, yes, you want me to stay and do things together with you."

"Yes, exactly. And within time for you to take over management of the farm, with me doing the bookwork and learning to fly so I can buy my own aircraft.

"The current manager is pretty good, but I want you to work alongside him for wages and learn everything you can as he'll be moving on within the next couple of years – the young ones always do, wanting to step up in size of property."