Hoyle's Valley Falls Ch. 01

Hoyle's Valley 1

I am about to move to a new apartment, so I am cleaning up my rented house and packing away my personal stuff into boxes. While doing that I found an old diary about my early days as a free-lance journalist. One entry caught my eye and triggered off some fond memories, which I will share with you.

"March 8. Story about Hoyle's Valley. Autumn leaves. Get a photographer. A weekend job."

That took me back to an earlier time. What a great weekend that turned out to be! This story is mostly about getting recognised as a journalist and how that weekend became so memorable in my early writing career.

I started off by going to Hoyle's Valley to see if I could create a story from the beauty of this rarely-visited park and its unknown waterfall. I heard about it from some bush-walking friends. I didn't know of its existence previously. I made some notes, took a few snapshots with my cellphone, and came home to compile some quick notes about the place.

It was clear that to get the full value of the wonders of the place I needed to engage a professional outdoor photographer. I knew a few, so I called the first one on my list. He was interstate, so I went to the next one. Two others were also busy with sports carnivals, so I called the last one on my list.

"Hello, are you Colin Freeman?" I asked the person who answered the phone. He confirmed that he was Colin Freeman.

"My name is Wendy Bradley and I am a free-lance journalist. Reasonably new to the profession," I told him before asking if he could do some outdoor photography for me, explaining what I had in mind and the location. He asked me where it was, because he had not heard of it, which was not surprising, I had asked the same question of my friends.

I gave him the date and that I particularly wanted to get images of the leaves turning to autumn colours. He said he liked the idea and could give me the time. We talked prices and I was happy with his charges, so I told him, "Colin, I am going to book a hotel from Friday night to Sunday afternoon. Do you want me to book a separate room for you, or would you like to share a twin room with me?"

There was a long silence before he responded, "Would that be risky, or can you be trusted not to kill me in my sleep?" I knew he was joking, but it was my opportunity to set the scene,

"I am a lady with impeccable manners, a pleasant disposition, and a modern outlook. Also, I am 30-years-old, with no encumbrances and I like good company. What do you think?" I asked him.

"Wendy, when you put it like that, I think I will be happy to share with you. I am sure you will find my company also acceptable," he answered.

We swapped email addresses and after the call I sent him an email message suggesting we meet for coffee the following day at 2.00PM to discuss my photographic needs for that weekend. Within a minute, he had responded and suggested his favourite coffee shop. My replied briefly, "See you there. Wendy."

I prepared myself very carefully before meeting him, looking like I was a real business woman and a journalist.

As I entered the café, I saw a young man sitting alone looking towards the door. I walked up to him and asked, "Are you Colin?"

He said he was, adding, "When I saw you walk in the door, I was hoping you were Wendy. I am very pleased to meet you," he told me. We shook hands and I sat opposite him at a small round table at the rear of the café.

Coffees were ordered and I started talking about my plans and what images I wanted for the article I was writing. He seemed impressed. We settled down and soon chatted easily about other things, like how I became a journalist and I asked about his background as a photographer. We had a second coffee and spent a pleasant afternoon together making our arrangements. I gave him the motel details and assured him I would be always polite. I heard him say, "I shall be equally as polite to you."

As we walked outside, he said, "It has been a pleasure meeting you, Wendy, and I look forward to our business arrangements being fulfilled." We shook hands and parted. I wondered what he thought of me, but it didn't matter, I liked his style. I am sure we will get along very well.

The day before we were due to leave, I offered to take him in my car as it is a two-hour drive, my email read, "Give me your address and I will pick you up at 6.00PM so that long drive won't be too boring for either of us. Long trips seem quicker with company. Wendy."

His response was quick, "I agree," he included his address. "See you at 6.00PM. Colin F."

On Friday, I was getting excited at the prospect of a job and the opportunity to know Colin in the confines of my car. I arrived at his house just before 6.00PM and he was ready with a heavy camera bag and a tripod, which just fitted in the back of my car with my luggage.

As I started the car, I said, "I am glad you agreed to travel with me, Colin, it is a long drive alone. I did it last weekend to see where this place was and to get some idea of what photos I want you to take for me," I showed him my cellphone with some quick photos I had taken. "Here's what the place looks like," I added.

He sat quietly looking at the images as we drove onto the Eastern Highway. Neither of us spoke for some time, until he said, "Looks like an interesting place."

"I thought so, especially as the leaves are turning to red and gold," I confirmed. "You won't see anything tonight. It will be dark soon and the motel is about an hour from that park."

"Talking of tonight," he started, "Have you had tea yet?"

"No, I haven't but I know a great roadside truck stop in about 100 kilometres. I was planning to stop there for a meal," I told him.

"I didn't have time for food before, because I was getting my photography gear ready for you," Colin said.

"I must tell you I had a feeling of anticipation as I drove to your place. I realised I know nothing about you. Just your name on a business card I was given some weeks ago," I explained.

"Well, Wendy, that's more than I know about you, so I guess we are on even ground," he laughed jovially.

There was another silence before he asked, "What's your background, Wendy. Workwise I mean, not your personal stuff," he added, sounding a little uneasy, "Where have you been working?" It was a big question.

"I will explain all about me when we stop for a meal, we will have plenty of time because we still have 50 kilometres to go after the meal, before we get to the motel," I told him. He made general observations about the sunset, the road and talked about his travels. It was interesting, impersonal chatting between us until the large sign of the truck-stop beckoned us. "Here we are. I can smell the food already," I quipped.

Shortly after we arrived at the Truckers' Café, I parked the car.

"Gee, this place looks busy, with all the big trucks and all," Colin spoke as if in awe of the trucks.

"These are the best places to stop if you want good food," I told him. Then I thought about what he said, "Haven't you been to a truck-stop for meals before?" I asked and was surprised when he shook his head negatively. "Well, you are in for a big treat," I assured him.

We got out of the car and stretched our legs. I locked it and headed to the flashing lights that surrounded the entrance and we headed to the restrooms. "Meet you back here, when you are ready," I said and heading to the women's door.

We chose a table away from the noise of truckers laughing, joking and talking rather loudly, as they often do. Colin seemed out of place. He asked me, "You come here alone? With all these men?" he asked.

"Yes. Why not? Good food, good facilities, which you saw, it also has great menu choices."

I ordered our meals at the counter and brought back two cold beers for us to sip as we chatted.

It was idle chatter about where he had been and how this assignment was so far from his normal work areas.

"That's because I have to find work in places where no-one else has been to stay in business, so I look for interesting places that are not commonly known. You said you didn't know about the place before you saw the photos on my phone," I reminded him.

"That's because I had never heard of it either, but I see your reasoning. I hope my work lives up to your expectations," he said as though he was unsure of his ability.

"If this works out and I can sell the finished article to club magazines or camping magazines, you will be credited with the photography. That's how you get known in this business. For both of us, I mean." He smiled when I said that. Just then our meals arrived, and we started eating in silence.

Some of the truck drivers were heading to their big rigs, the noise level dropped and we were able to talk. "They will be well ahead of us by the time we get back on the highway, they have schedules to keep. We don't," I explained.

After some talk about cameras, family and travelling, all rolled into one, I asked him an important question. "Colin, when I asked you if you would mind sharing, you didn't seem too worried, other than I may kill you. But ignoring all that, I have to say the only room I could get at the only motel near the falls has only one double bed. Does that bother you?"

There was a silence and a smile crossed his face when he answered, "No, I'm good with that, but I didn't think you meant it when you asked me," Colin said, somewhat surprised. He went quiet as he drank the last of his beer.

"Colin, are you happy with that, or do we make other arrangements?" I asked.

"No, it's fine, but I didn't think you were that type of girl," he said.

"And what type of girl would that be, Colin? I am quite normal, I think, but if you have a problem, now is the time to tell me." I was getting concerned by his quietness.

"No, it was the way you told me; I was surprised. I had formed an opinion of you when we met for coffee and I was prepared to work with you, but I didn't think we would start the work by sleeping together. That's what you are suggesting, isn't it?"

"Either that, or one of us sleeps on the settee. I will tell you it gets cold in those high plains and you may like warm company. I know I would," I told him.

"OK. That's settled, I would enjoy sharing a bed with you, Wendy, but you don't know anything about me," he conceded.

"That's true, but I bet I will by tomorrow morning," I told him. I hoped my smile dispelled any anxiety.

I told Colin I was going to freshen up before we get back on the highway. He thought it was a good idea and we went in different directions. When we were back together, I saw he had a bottle of red wine with him. He held it up and said, "I thought you might like a nightcap before we hit the sack."

"What a great idea. Thank you, Colin," I said, as we headed out into the chilly night air for the final leg of our journey to the motel.

I was hoping Colin hadn't been scared off, but I did want him to feel comfortable with me before we reached the motel, so I started a conversation, "Colin, tell me about what you thought of me after our coffee date. I really want to know," I said.

"I don't think you would believe me if I told you," he said, trying not to answer. I urged him,

"Go on, tell me, I want to know what your first impressions of me were, so I can follow your thinking -- or refute it, if I need to."

He finally told me that he didn't think I would make arrangements to 'sleep together' on a first date. He wasn't expecting to be involved in any personal way with me at all. He said he was not embarrassed about the shared bed, but that I may have pre-planned it. I soon changed his mind of that.

"Colin, I like your thinking, but I am a practical person. It was not pre-planned. I need you to take photos for my story, we both need to work and we both need somewhere to sleep. This motel is the closest, so we can make the most of our two days. If it means sleeping together for those two nights then we can make the most of that, too," I told him.

He was quiet, I could hear was the quiet purr of the engine as we continued climbing higher on the winding road. To break the silence I said, "About another 20 minutes to go and we can get warm for the night."

"Good," Colin said, "this road looks spooky with overhanging trees and no lights. The night air is cold on the windows too."

"It will be colder as we get higher, so I hope you brought some warm PJs," I suggested as a joke.

"No, I don't wear them, I get tangled in them," he told me; I believed him. Maybe I will have to cuddle him to keep him warm.

"I'm not a PJ girl either, just a long T-shirt and briefs for me," I confided truthfully.

In the distance there was the lonely blue light of the sign announcing the Mountain View Motel.

"Look, that's where we are going. See the blue light on the right? That's where our warm bed is waiting."

"Does it have good meals too?" he asked.

"Yes, it has room service or a restaurant for breakfast and a good selection of other meals. No problem with food up here and it is all home cooked." I explained to him.

"Sounds good," he said and became silent again. I thought he had dozed off, but he became alert when he heard the car's turn signal clicking. I pulled up at the office, and went to register. I was given the keys and room number which was a short drive into the large park.

"Here we are, Colin." I stopped the car; we got out and I took what I needed for the night into the room and turned on the heating. Colin had his overnight bag. I'll put the kettle on to make us a hot drink to thaw out," I told him.

"Hey, this looks cool," he told me. It was now that I confirmed that he was younger than me, but it didn't matter.

"Yes, I suppose it is cool, although the heating will help a lot," I quipped. He sensed I was mocking him and he laughed. Thank God, I hope he relaxes before we get into bed.

"Do they have wine glasses in here?" he asked, as he removed the seal from the top of the wine bottle.

"Not wine glasses, but ordinary drinking glasses. They will do," I said.

The small room was warming quite quickly as we sat together on the settee to enjoy the wine with our coffee.

"The choice for sleeping is that warm double bed, or this cold, vinyl-covered settee, what's your preference?" I asked him.

He looked at me and said, "The bed looks more comfortable and obviously, it will be warmer."

"That settles it. Which side do you prefer? He sipped his wine before answering,

"Do you have a preference, Wendy?" I said 'no', but he still hesitated to make a decision.

"OK. Which side do you sleep on in your own bed?" I asked him.

"The left side," he said then qualified it by pointing to the left side at the foot of the bed.

"Good, I will have the other side." Decision made!

The wine bottle was nearly empty, so I poured the remainder of the wine into our glasses and then asked him,

"When was the last time you slept with a woman, Colin?" I asked him out of curiosity.

"It's been a while; my last girlfriend went to Canada a few weeks ago. I haven't been out with anyone since then." I felt sorry for him, he was probably missing her.

"What's in Canada for her?" I asked him.

"She is a language teacher and was offered a short-term appointment in Quebec. That's all I know." he said.

"So, you are quite happy to share this bed with me?" I wanted to be sure he had no worries. He nodded.

It was time for bed, but do I get undressed in front of him, or do I change in the bathroom? I chose the latter to avoid any surprises for Colin. "I'll get changed for bed in the bathroom first, if you don't mind, Colin."

"OK. I'm in no hurry," he answered.

When I returned, wearing a dressing gown over my nightwear, I saw he was already in bed.

"That was quick," I told him.

"It was too cold to stand around half-naked, so I got into bed until you finished in the bathroom. Now, I will make myself look pretty for bed," he told me with a smile.

I switched off the bedside light on my side and lay watching to see him emerge from the bathroom. When he did, he was wearing only boxer shorts, his body looked well kept, with muscles in the right places and some fine chest hair -- a good example of manhood. My type of man!

He slid into bed and turned off his light. "I hope I don't snore and keep you awake," he said.

"That's not a problem, I have slept with men who snore before. We will be OK." I assured him.

Without another word, he turned his back towards me. I was tempted to get closer to him and put my arm over his body and press my hand against his chest. I was of two minds, should I do that, or should I just go to sleep or take the opportunity to check out his equipment. I lay there thinking about my options.

The temptation was too much, I wanted to check out his equipment. The other option was to waste a great opportunity and not know. If I were a man, I would use the expression, 'One you knock back, is one you'll never get.' A few more minutes passed and I acted. I put my arm over him and felt for a nipple. If he were still awake, he would make a comment or move, if not, I would make my next move without his knowledge.

The result was immediate, "I thought you wanted to go to sleep," Colin told me.

"And I thought you would be asleep and not notice me," I told him. He rolled onto his back, pushing me back over to my side of the bed as he moved.

"Do you want to fuck, Wendy?" His question seemed obvious, so I told him,

"Well, we are both here together. No-one to interrupt, so what better way is there to get to know each other?" I asked.

"I guess you're right, it does seem like a chance not to be missed," Colin agreed.

Before I could make my next move, I felt his hand on my tit, followed by a gentle squeezing. I took this as my cue to reach down into his shorts and check out his vital parts. I wasn't surprised, he allowed me to fondle his balls and rub my fingers along his circumcised cock. So, here we were, like two teenagers hiding under the covers while our parents were watching TV. To take this fondling to the next step I kissed him on the cheek, with the comment, "That is not a love kiss, it is a fuck kiss. Do you understand the difference?" I added in almost a breathy whisper.

"Message understood, loud and clear," he responded, which I thought was amusing. He turned to face me and placed his mouth over my tit that he had been fondling. I was still feeling his cock and playing with his testicles; they were quite large and he had a hard-on. What a good start, I thought. I was waiting for his next move which I thought was to roll on top of me and work his way between my legs, but he didn't. He seemed content sucking my nipples and exploring my pussy with his fingers.

I thought we were getting along quite well, when he stiffened and I found my hand covered in sticky cum. He had prematurely ejaculated in his shorts and on my hand.

"Oops!" I said, as I felt his cock pulse and the sticky stuff, "I wasn't expecting that so soon. What happened?" I asked him.

He looked embarrassed, "I don't know, it hasn't happened before," he said, as if apologising for the spill.

"Don't worry, there's always tomorrow. Maybe in the morning you will be ready to go again. I find most men are morning starters," I said to ease his obvious disappointment.

The truth was, I was disappointed too, I really wanted to feel that thick shaft inside me. So, I suggested the next best thing, "You can still finger-fuck me. I'd like that and I think you would enjoy the opportunity to get your fingers in me, wouldn't you, Colin?"

"Yes, I would, but I have wasted a fuck, haven't I?"

"Was it really wasted? Didn't my hand working down there make you feel good? Isn't that why you came so quickly?" My questions were to lessen his embarrassment, so I added a long kiss on his lips. He seemed to respond to that and I could feel his fingers pleasuring the place so often neglected by a busy girl, but tonight I combined work with pleasure.