tagNonConsent/ReluctanceJust a Little Fishing Trip

Just a Little Fishing Trip


The sun was almost a little too hot as it past through its zenith, nevertheless, Rebecca lay quite motionless on the old sun lounge, drifting off every now and then for a few moments as she listened to the birds cry out as they flew lazily overhead on their way to the lagoon not far away.

It had been a long night of raucous laughter and drinking and although she did not think she had drunk too much, her head ached a bit -- well more than just a bit. Of course it may have been the result of the long, hot drive out to the camp the day before that had left her somewhat dehydrated -- and not the cheap red wine that had flowed freely, too freely. Yes, just a bit dehydrated, Rebecca thought to herself without conviction, smiling at her hazy memory of the previous evening.

Rebecca opened her eyes and even from under her wide-brimmed straw-hat the sunlight glared harshly. It was a hard country, but at this time of year it could be almost pleasant, and one of the best times to top-up an almost perfect tan.

She squeezed a great dollop of sunscreen onto the palm of her left hand and applied it quite liberally over her thighs and stomach, massaging the excess in slowly. Then, holding the bottle just above her chest, Rebecca slowly dribbled the white cream onto her breasts, making a figure of eight around each of her brown nipples.

With each hand, she gently rubbed the soothing liquid into her mounds of flesh and smiled at the feeling of her own breasts. Although not large by any stretch of the imagination, they were still quite firm -- and quite sensitive.

Rebecca gripped a nipple between each thumb and forefinger, taking pleasure in tweaking them gently till they were fully engorged. Then looking down at them she smiled, her husband said they were probably the largest nipples he had ever seen, and yes, they were big; Rebecca had to admit to herself somewhat proudly.

Taking a deep breath as she laid back it was only a matter of seconds before she began to totally relax, life was good and she felt pretty much at peace for a change. The men were not due back until late that afternoon and Rebecca had the camp completely to herself, with no-one in sight for miles she could run around entirely naked if she cared too, and although the thought had occurred to her, she opted for some form of modesty, however brief.

So with nothing on but a small bikini-bottom Rebecca revelled in the freedom of the moment. Normally it was hard to not only find the time in her busy life, but also hard to have a moment or two of privacy at home with her teenage son hanging around with his mates. So now to lie around -- almost naked -- and tan up in a wonderfully remote part of the bush was a thrill to be enjoyed!

Rebecca lifted the rim of her hat and peered down toward the lagoon some five hundred metres away. She could see the sun glinting off the tranquil body of water through the gap in the trees by the waters edge, just near where the men had launched the dinghy only hours before. Apart from some water birds wading along the edge of the bank catching small fish, she felt she was totally alone.

Feeling bolder, for a few moments Rebecca toyed with the idea of removing her remaining piece of clothing to sunbake completely nude. She giggled like a naughty schoolgirl at the bold thought and felt little tingles of excitement flutter through her stomach; it was something she had never done before in her life.

"It's sooo nice," she crooned, enjoying her solitude as she toyed with the small orange bows on each hip.

Although tempted to pull the end of each bow and allow the bikini to fall open, Rebecca opted to leave the little thing on. Instead, she slid her fingers along the waist-band of the small piece of black lycra and pulled the triangle upward, so it narrowed to within a centimetre.

"Mmm..." Rebecca murmured, as she felt the taut material slowly sink in between her smooth labia.

"Just ten minutes or so should be enough," she whispered softly to herself, as she laid her head back against the old sunlounge and parted her knees a bit. The sun warming her recently bared pale-flesh in an instant.

* * *

It had been touch and go as to whether Rebecca was going to come along on her husband's weeklong fishing trip. Her friend Susan had promised to come along for company, but had changed her mind at the last minute when she had learnt her daughter was coming home for the week from Uni.

Even though she had ummed-and-aahed, Rebecca's husband, Doug, had not discouraged her in anyway, saying he would like to have her for company. And so she had come along.

The trip out to the remote lagoon was arduous to say the least for the last forty kilometres! That part of the trip had taken nearly two and a quarter hours along a rough, narrow track winding through mostly open sclerophyll forest and not another vehicle to be seen!

Cranky had taken them out in his old four-wheel-drive. Cranky was Susan's husband. But he had only stayed the night, before heading back home early in the morning, so he too could catch-up with his daughter.

Rebecca probably should have given more thought to where they were going to be staying for the week. All she knew was that it was the Dry-Season home of a rather infamous poacher, set up high on the banks of a crocodile-infested lagoon that was some eight kilometres long. The fishing was said to be brilliant, not that that triviality concerned Rebecca at all!

She probably should have also packed less provocative clothing too, but did not think of it at the time. How was she to know that two of the three men staying at the camp had been there for almost three months!

When they had arrived Rebecca was pleasantly surprised by the little oasis carved out of the bush. Large, shady mango trees and a few palms along with some patches of recently mowed green grass were a welcome relief from the austere bush they had just travelled through. Rough, but insect proof, with generator power and fresh water pumped up through a poly-pipe buoyed twenty metres from the water's edge, the corrugated-iron and fly-screened camp oozed character. Loads of old photos and rusty bits of memorabilia lined various parts of the walls of the five-roomed abode.

All three of the men had made a big fuss of the new guests upon their arrival -- well they had certainly made a fuss over Rebecca, offering her their seats and even their beds to stay in too!

Her husband, Doug, didn't really know the other three men. Big Tom, the poacher, was in his fifties, Craig she guessed was mid forties and the third man Johnny was not much more than a boy, probably only twenty if that. Tom was an old associate of a good friend of Cranky's, but that was as close as it got.

Cranky had brought out a few casks of wine for them, along with cartons of beer and fuel for the generator. He had a large portable fridge in the back of his vehicle that was loaded with supplies too, once emptied; they had filled it with stacks of frozen fillets cut from recently netted fish.

Then they had all started drinking.

Rebecca at first did not notice the strangers' eyes glancing her way every now and then as they drank and talked animatedly amongst themselves and she had no reason at all to feel self-conscious, she often wore similar clothes to the short floral-designed skirt and pink tube-top she had on; after all it was the tropics.

As the night wore on Rebecca felt obliged to move around the table and fill the men's glasses. Big Tom told one funny story after the other and had her in stitches of laughter, making her feel further at ease -- that and the fact that she had consumed three or more reasonable-sized glasses of Shiraz! Several times she had to steady herself on one of the men's shoulders as she shimmied in the confined space between the wall and the chairs topping-up glasses.

Almost unnoticed, Doug disappeared for a half hour or so at one stage, mumbling something about setting up a tent for the two of them to sleep in. He had thought it inappropriate to bed down with his wife in the limited space of Tom's 'house' he called a donga.

"So...how about 'nother refill lil'lady?" Big Tom slurred, lifting his empty glass yet again.

Again, Rebecca stood up from her rickety chair and collected the men's glasses to take over to the small bench where the wine cask sat.

"Tha's a nice lookin' butt you got there, Bec. Ya don't mind if I call ya Bec?" Tom said cheekily.

Rebecca felt her face flush slightly at the compliment, "No, that's alright, my friends sometimes call me Bec," she replied, with her back to the table while filling the glasses.

"Whada you reckon, young fella, better 'an some a them tramps back in tha big smoke, hey?" Tom asked Johnny.

Johnny gazed at the woman's backside; he could almost see the cleft between her two perfectly symmetrical orbs, thinly covered by the colourful polyester skirt.

"Yeh, pretty nice, Uncle."

Tom wasn't really Johnny's uncle, but the lad's deceased father had been a close associate of his for many years. The two men had 'history' and Tom felt he should take the young fellow under his wing since the lad had recently gotten himself in a bit of strife.

Rebecca turned around with the tray of glasses and caught the young man's gaze raise up her body, momentarily stopping to ogle her breasts as they jiggled bra-less beneath her clinging top. She was only then vaguely aware that her nipples were unusually erect, but as the wine had loosened her inhibitions, she chose to ignore the lad's perving.

"I think you have all been out bush for too long!" Rebecca suggested, setting the glasses down on the table one at a time.

"Nup...you're a looker any day, Bec my dear," Tom countered.

Rebecca thought she would blush at the old man's compliment and smiled, shrugging her shoulders and cocking her head to one side, "If you say so."

Moving between the confined space at back of Tom's chair and the wall she staggered forward a little and felt the big man's hand grip her around the waist, supporting her.

"Steady, Bec," Tom said with a wry smile on his face, his hand holding her slim waist firmly.

"Maybe ya would like ta sit on me knee, hey? Talk about tha first thing that comes up...whadda ya reckon?"

Rebecca laughed a little nervously, but said nothing.

The old man took her silence as a nod of acceptance and pulled her in even closer.

Rebecca looked around the table at the bemused looks on the other three men's faces. Even Cranky was silently watching them through his drunken, bloodshot eyes. She felt Big Tom's hand slither down her waist to her buttocks and he squeezed them gently.

"Yep...you got a ten outa ten arse, luv," he murmured in her ear, caressing her flesh somewhat firmer.

"Thanks Tom...I...I better sit down now," Rebecca said meekly.

Big Tom let his hand wander down to the hem of her skirt, then he slowly slid his fingers under the material and in small circles he worked his hand back up.

"Wearin' one a them g-bangers, hey luv..." Tom observed drily.

Rebecca stood motionless, she felt like she couldn't move. She didn't know what to do. It was not just the wine she had consumed, it was the whole scene. Normally Rebecca did not associate with people she regarded as below her social level, but she did not want to appear too aloof now; she did not want to cause any trouble and guessed it was just a bit of harmless fun, something her friend Susan would probably have laughed off too in similar circumstances.

Sensing her acquiescence, Tom openly rubbed Rebecca's buttocks, working the back of her skirt up higher.

"Gimme a look at them little undies of your's."

Not waiting for a reply, Tom put his glass of wine down and reached over to boldly raise the front of her skirt.

"Tom...Tom...I...I don't think you should...Tom please," Rebecca stammered, with one of her hands resting on his shoulder for support, the other hanging limply by her side.

"Nice! Hey Craig...see 'em?" Tom asked his friend sitting half a metre away.

"Take 'em off her Uncle, give us a look at her gash!"

Tom laughed at his young charge's suggestion.

"Can we 'ave a look then Bec?"

Completely bewildered, Rebecca remained motionless! She felt his calloused hand continuing to squeeze and rub her bare buttocks -- and she still said nothing. Her heart was racing and her breathing was shallow. She glanced around the table -- and the men waited.

Rebecca closed her eyes when she felt the big man's fingers touch between her legs and rub slowly up the front of her g-string, hooking in to the top of the band.

Tom pulled the top of her underwear away and peered in.

"Hey...that looks fuckin' nice down there...fuck all pubes ta get caught in a bloke's teeth, hey Bec?"

"Gis a look, Uncle, gis us a look at her cunt too would ya!" Johnny asked excitedly.

Inexplicably, Rebecca remained frozen on the spot, her eyes clamped tightly shut and she felt Tom work his hand into her panties, drawing them down her hips lower and lower till one of his fat fingers nudged at her flesh, working her apart.

"Ya like that missy?" Tom sniggered suggestively.

Rebecca opened her eyes partially; Johnny was leaning forward watching intently while the other two men sat with bemused grins on their faces. Her legs felt like jelly and she thought she would collapse onto Tom's lap at any moment!

The wire door slamming shut in its metal frame brought her back to reality almost instantly and Tom removed his hands hastily from her warm flesh and pushed her away toward her chair as she straightened up her clothes.

"All a bit quiet in here now aren't we?" Doug commented as he walked back into the smoky room, completely unaware of what had just transpired.

Rebecca had only stayed up with the men for about another twenty minutes after that. She knew she had blushed uncontrollably with guilt when her husband had looked her in the eye, which did not go unnoticed; of course she had blamed it on the wine!

Upon excusing herself from their host, old Tom had insisted on a goodnight kiss. Just a peck on his cheek he had said. Doug had even encouraged her to amuse him with the honour! The big man had turned his head just as she leant forward to kiss him and planted his slobbery lips firmly on hers for a moment longer than was polite -- but then what he had been doing to her earlier was anything but polite!

* * *

The squawking of a flock of corellas brought Rebecca back to the present. She did not think it wise to tell her husband what had taken place the night before. This was the first break he had taken from work in a couple of years and she certainly did not want to spoil things for him. He deserved a break without any worries for a few days at least, why concern him with Tom's little indiscretion? After all it was only a bit of a feel, wasn't it?

Of course Rebecca was still very concerned, never had anything like that happened to her before, she was just not that sort of woman! What would have happened if her husband had not come back inside when he did? She had dreaded the thought so much she had seriously considered returning to town with Cranky that morning, but was amazed when she was awoken by his vehicle leaving before she had a chance to ask!

Now she was stranded until he returned to pick them up in a week. She was fairly sure what had happened -- or more precisely, what had nearly happened the night before would not be repeated if she was careful. Or so she had hoped.

"Cheeky old bugger," she said to herself as she analysed what she may have done to contribute to his unwelcome advances.

"If it was the clothes I am in trouble," she reflected with a sigh, all she had brought along was of a similar fashion, with the exception of a pair of cut-off jeans that were nearly two sizes to small! She decided to give the alcohol a miss, or a least limit her intake when around the dirty old bugger!

Rebecca picked up her book from next to the sunlounge and read a few more pages with a high degree of difficulty in concentration, before finally giving up and laying back to just relax some more in the pleasant heat of the early afternoon's sun.

Several minutes must have passed and Rebecca started to drift off again. She was just in that phase of slumber of total relaxation when she became aware of a shadow blocking out the sun's warm rays, snapping her out of it, much to her chagrin.

The shadow moved away slowly -- a cloud she had guessed without raising her hat to see. Her body was soon bathed in warmth again and almost absently, she reached down to her bikini and pulled the material to one side, rubbing herself briefly for a moment, lost in her thoughts again.

Almost reluctantly, Rebecca removed her fingers from her sex and pulled the bikini upward between her labia again, only this time she opened her legs slightly wider allowing the lycra to rub her delicate button for a few moments.

She hoped Doug did not stay up drinking too long when the men returned from fishing. She felt she needed him tonight!

The sun disappeared behind the clouds again and Rebecca frowned in annoyance. Five more minutes and she would roll over and work on her back some more, then she would give the sun-worshipping a rest for awhile. Maybe chop up some vegetables for the evening's meal.

Something wasn't quite right, she felt and still in a shadow, Rebecca lifted the brim of her hat to see how much cloud was around. Maybe she would call it quits earlier.

"Shit!" Rebecca gasped, "How long have you been standing there?"

It wasn't a cloud, less than two metres away stood the youth, Johnny!

"You got nice titties too, Bec."

Rebecca had nothing to cover herself with except for her straw hat, quickly she sat up pulling her legs upwards and at the same time she placed the hat over her naked breasts!

"I...I thought you had all gone fishing!" she exclaimed, ignoring his bold observation.

"Nup...three's enough in that little boat...specially with all the grog and stuff."

Rebecca was still shaken, "How long have you been standing there?" she demanded.

Johnny stood looking down at her smirking. He was only wearing a pair of footy shorts, shiny black ones with a pair of white stripes up either side.


"Long enough...long enough. Would ya like me ta rub some of that cream on your back? Maybe put a bit on that pretty butt of yours too?"

"You're not funny. I thought I was alone...in private! You perv!"

"Hey...don't mind me...but aint you the prissy one now! Seem to remember ya not minding the attention of Uncle Tom last night when ya husband was busy out back puttin' ya condo up."

Rebecca eyed him shrewdly, he was overly confident for a young man, too confident. He continued to stand before her unflinching. She noticed he too was deeply tanned, his youthful body hairless and without a trace of fat. Two large gold rings adorned his nipples and a small crucifix hung from a thick chain around his neck. She couldn't help but notice that his tight shorts did little to conceal his manhood bulging over to one side almost horizontally.

"How 'bout I get us a cold beer each? Would ya like that?"

Rebecca sighed, "Yep, okay."

Johnny smiled, "Back in a minute."

What choice did she have? She was about fifty metres away from her tent where she had left her clothes naively; she did not even have a towel with her, just the stupid hat and a book, and of course her little bikini bottoms!

She watched him walk briskly toward the camp and considered her options. What difference did it make now if she got up and walked to her tent almost naked? He had most likely seen more than enough already -- hell, he had probably even watched when she masturbated!

Rebecca delayed for too long and she heard the wire door slam just as the lad reappeared from the shadows of the mango trees carrying two cans of beer in coolers.

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