Mangrove Creek

*Author's note: This story is a work of fiction, and should be read as such. Any characters bearing similarity to any real persons, be they living or dead, is purely coincidental. This work is the property of the author, and no permission is given for this work to be posted anywhere but www.literotica.com*

***

Real quick: I don't like talkin' about myself too much, but this story really needs tellin'. My name's Dan. Dan Simonds. I'm thirty-one, and I'm an IT consultant in Brisbane. I take contracts mostly to help new companies get setup, or to help older companies restructure their networks and whatnot.

Conversely, I love the wilderness, and I love getting away from it all on my own. I know what you're thinkin'; a computer nerd that loves roughing it? Yep, it's true, largely due to the fact that me and my brother and sister were raised on property out west of Geelong, and we spent most of our young lives outdoors.

I have no girlfriend, though there's a string of failed relationships behind me, mostly because the idea of settling down never interested me too much. Nothing wrong with the girls, mind you. I liked 'em all, maybe even loved one or two, but I liked being me own man too much, you know?

Anyway, that's enough from me. What happened during this story changed my life, and I hope you get a good read out of it.

Cheers,

Dan.

***Early Spring, 2011, on the way to Yarramalong, New South Wales***

Ah, the mountain air. Nothing ever tastes or smells as sweet after you get out of the city. I'd decided this morning to chuck my shit in the Landcruiser and get gone.

My I.T. contract just finished with this mob that were setting up a new office in the CBD, and they paid me an arm and a leg for the work, which means that I won't have to put my name out there again for a while, as long as I'm careful with my coin.

Which means one thing: Camping, fishing, and four-wheel driving!

I never really needed much to be happy, as long as I had what I needed to get away when I wanted to. Pretty much everything I care about fits into the back of my Landcruiser. To be honest, it's mostly camping gear. I live in Brisbane, but the best thing about Australia is you can drive for two hours and feel like you're well away from civilisation.

Sometimes the city -- or more accurately, its people -- gets a bit much for me, so every so-often I bugger off over the Range and into the Granite Belt, or southwest into the New South Wales hinterland where I can get lost for days or even weeks and not see another human soul. It's magic.

I've got family around the place -- parents in rural Victoria, a brother and a sister in Melbourne -- but I don't see them much. It's not that we don't get along, it's just everyone's busy with their own lives, you know? Plus, if I'm being honest, they're a bit boring. I love them, but it's true. They see me as the 'Wild Child,' the 'different' one that won't settle down and have a horde of kids and work for forty years in a job you hate. I know what you're thinking: how appealing that lifestyle sounds.

I dunno 'bout you, but to me they're as crazy as cut snakes, and I'm the sane one. No lifelong commitments for me, thanks. I can do what I like, when I like, and that's the way I like it. Sometimes I look at Dad and I see a glimmer in his eyes when I talk about my last trip. He always wants to know where I went, who I met -- particularly women -- and a thousand other details. I think he's living through me a bit, but there's also a light of remembrance in his eyes, as if he's been there before. Funny, but every time I've asked him what he used to get up to before he met Mum, he dodges a direct answer and says shit like: "I just sat around not knowing my elbow from my arsehole till your mum came and saved me."

Of course, that shit gets him a kiss and a cuddle from Mum, but she never sees the ghost of a wink that accompanies his words. All that aside, gotta hand it to the old man; he taught me everything I needed to know about the bush, and without that I wouldn't be able to do what I'm doing right now.

The Landcruiser roared as I shifted down to take the next hill. The place I'm headed to is bang in the guts of the New South Wales Hinterland, which seems to attract plenty of tourists, though I doubt any of 'em have ever seen as much of it as I have. The real beautiful spots are the hardest to get to, but if you know your way around...

That's why I picked Yarramalong, or at least, that's the closest inhabited place to where I was going, which was Mangrove Creek. It's a top spot right on a wide river that somehow actually has sandy shores, almost like an inland beach. I've camped there for weeks on end and seen not a soul. Rest assured I wore very little the entire time, being on my own as I was. I've gotta admit; I'm a bit of a nudist at heart. It's one of the reasons I like getting away.

There's not much to do in Yarramalong, but I pulled in to the café on the main road to stretch my legs, grab a bite to eat and stock up on bait 'n tackle. The café is a humble little place with half-a-dozen chairs and tables with the eatery at one end and the shop at the other. There's a thousand places just like it all over the country.

As I pushed through the hanging beads in the doorway, a familiar voice hailed me. "Hey, Dan! Been a while!"

I smiled at Dolly, the rotund woman behind the counter with her graying hair up in a bun. "Good to see you, Dolly!" I said warmly. "Thought I'd stop in for one of those pies. You still make 'em?"

"Sure do," Dolly said. "Just one? Travellin' alone again?"

"Yep," I replied. "Just me, just the way I like it."

Dolly grinned and shook her head, then boldly eyed me up and down. She was never a shy woman, was old Dolly. "When are you gonna find a nice young woman, Dan? Handsome bloke like you shouldn't be having trouble in the love department."

"Trust me, Dolly," I told her with a grin of my own. "I've had enough trouble in the love department for the time being."

"No one special, then?"

I shook my head firmly. "Nope. And not lookin' either." I walked off a few steps to the bait freezer and slid the door open to select a few packets of worms. I stacked them on the glass top of the chest.

"You might've changed your tune if you'd been here a minute ago." Dolly's voice had a tinge of amusement to it, as if she knew a joke that she was keeping to herself.

I kept my eyes on what I was doing, though my interest was piqued. "And why's that, Dolly?" I asked, trying not to sound too curious.

"The woman that was in here earlier. If she wasn't the sort to get a bloke thinkin' about love, then nobody could." I picked out a packet of prawns, which weren't ideal for river fishing, but you never knew your luck. Dolly kept talking. "She had the sort of body that makes men turn 'round, if you know what I mean. Long, blonde hair and nice big tits, the way you men like 'em."

I couldn't hold back a chuckle at Dolly's frankness. "Thanks for the detailed description, Dolly." I said as I closed the freezer and gathered my bait. "Just another backpacker or tourist I imagine?" There was no shortage of them, but they rarely came this far out. Still, I'd had my share of flings with liberally-minded European or American tourists over the years.

"Nope," Dolly said firmly. "This one's a local, or says she's going to be, anyway. She bought some land near here, she says."

I shrugged. "Best of luck to her, I reckon. It's paradise out here. I only wish there was enough work in places like this for me to live here too."

Dolly nodded as she reached for a paper bag and the tongs to pull a pie from the cabinet window. "Too right, Dan. So where you headed this time?"

I waggled an admonishing finger at the older woman. "Uh-uh Dolly. You know I never tell anyone where I'll be exactly. Next thing I know, my whole campsite will be full of tourists invading my serenity."

Dolly slid the pie into the bag with a little more force than was perhaps necessary. "You know it's stupid, Dan, not telling anyone where you're gonna be. What if a snake gets you? Or you break your leg or something? How's anyone supposed to help?"

She was right. It was a dumb thing to do, but for me, that was all part of the adventure. No lifelines or fail safes. Just me and the wild. But Dolly had a point, and I was feeling a little guilty. "Okay, look," I began, spreading my hands placatingly. "I'll give you this one. But only because you remind me of one of my aunties who used to give me a hard time."

I grabbed a map from the rack near the counter and quickly found Mangrove Creek. Dolly handed me a marker and I circled my best guess at where exactly I'd end up; right on the water. Mangrove Creek looks a bit like a giant 'E' from above, and I was going right in there, as far from the road as you could get and not be physically in the water.

Dolly grunted. "So that's your little hideaway, ey?" She started stuffing the bait into a plastic bag.

"Yep," I grinned. "Been there three times, now. It's a winner." I pulled out some money and paid for the stuff. "Well, see ya on the way out, Dol!"

"I'll be here," Dolly replied kindly. "Have fun, Dan."

As I pushed through the beads on my way out, I nearly bumped into someone. "Oh! Excuse me!" A warm, feminine voice said. The voice belonged to an attractive woman, maybe a couple of years older than me, with long coffee hair and a very well-rounded figure clad in a red summer dress that dipped low enough at the neck to hint at a resplendent pair of tits. I couldn't see her eyes behind her expensive-looking sunglasses, but her white teeth flashed behind her friendly smile.

"No problem," I said, returning the smile. "I was so excited about getting some fishing done I didn't look."

"Ooh, fishing!" She exclaimed. "Where are the good spots around here? I'm new to town, so I'm keeping my ears open." Her accent was definitely not country. I was guessing city girl by the clothes, the sunnies and the way she spoke well. There was also a black Lexus convertible parked nearby that hadn't been there before.

"Well that's just the thing," I replied, not being able to resist the urge to tease her a little. "I don't want to reveal the secret spots, 'cause then everyone will know and it won't be secret anymore."

She chuckled, and her smile deepened. "Fair enough, mate. I'll leave you to your secret fishing. Maybe I'll run into you out there anyway."

I shook my head. "I doubt that. I like to get as far away from civilization as I bloody well can."

"I don't blame you, you know," the pretty woman replied. She lifted her sunnies up onto her head, revealing stunning brown eyes. She was wearing light make-up, not over-done. With a face like hers, she hardly needed it. "You're not the only one that's had enough of people." She put a hand out. "Cassie."

"Dan," I said, taking her offered hand. "What brings you out to the cultural hub that is Yarramalong?"

My facetiousness brought a tinkling laugh out of Cassie. "I'm looking to buy some land out here," she replied, looking out past the road and waving at the green mountains surrounding the buildings. "Somewhere quiet and out the back end of forever suits me just fine."

"Well, you're in the right place, I suppose," I told her. Hadn't Dolly just said a blond woman was looking to buy out here, too? Well, it's not unheard of for city people to make a change, and two attractive women in the same small town on the same morning could also be coincidence, couldn't it? Bloody well had to be; if Cassie walked into the local pub on any day of the week, half the punters would drop off their stools like ripe mangoes! "Well, Cassie," I said with my best smile. "It's been a pleasure to meet you, but I must be off while I still have enough daylight, or I won't be able to find my secret spot!"

"Righto, Dan," Cassie chuckled. "Maybe I'll see you again?"

I'd started to turn away as she spoke, and I almost stopped at the question in her tonality. I'd heard it enough times before to know that she was hinting that she wanted to see me again, and she wanted me to ask her for coffee or something. Instead, I kept going, but smiled over my shoulder. "Who knows?" I returned playfully. "Maybe!" Opening the driver's door of the 'Cruiser I tossed my bait and my pie onto the passenger seat. As I climbed up, I offered some advice. "Good luck with your land, Cassie. And don't take any shit from Dolly in there! She's a cheeky one!"

Not trusting myself to stay in Cassie's presence any longer, I turned over the engine and backed out onto the road. 'No, Dan!' I scolded myself. 'No women, at least for a while. You know what happens. They complicate shit.'

I definitely did not look at my rearview mirror to see Cassie still standing on the front step of the café, watching me drive off. And I definitely did not almost turn around and go back under the pretense I'd forgotten something. Definitely not.

*

Once I'd crossed the several streams and gullies and traversed the rainforest that separates Mangrove Creek from the rest of the world, there was just enough sun left to get everything done. My tent was up and I'd erected a nice big awning off the front beneath which sat my chair, a foldable camp table and my portable fridge. Around the awning I hung up my mozzie nets on the three exposed sides to keep the mozzies and midgies from draining me dry.

The fire was blazing away just outside the awning, and I already had a lamb roast sizzling in the camp oven suspended above the flames on a tripod. Not ten metres away was the shore of Mangrove Creek itself, which was really more like a massive lake fed by several creeks in the area. In the daytime you could see the far side, but you needed binoculars to see anything clearly.

I was just about ready to park my arse in my chair and do a bit of reading, but one thing came first: rule number one of camping -- no clothes unless you absolutely have to! In no time I was starkers and relaxing in my chair by the fire, a cold stubbie in one hand and the book I was currently reading -- the Barenaked Investor -- in my other. Investing in property is something I've been wanting to do for a while, so I've been reading up as much as I can.

I read until the lamb was done, then I tucked in. Once dinner was finished, I went back to the book and enjoyed a couple more beers before retiring for the night. This was my life for the next few weeks, and I was bloody happy about that. I settled into my sleeping bag with a smile on my face.

*

Next morning, I was up early. I'm a morning guy, and I like being up with the sun. The embers in the firepit were still smoldering, so I chucked some leaves and twigs on and with a couple of puffs she was going again. I hung a billy up and threw a handful of tea leaves in before I turned to the lake. The sun hadn't cleared the mountains yet, so the lake was still shaded as I headed over to take a morning dip. It was late September and the weather was heating up slowly, but the mountains were still fresh at night and in the morning, not getting hotter till later in the day. The water felt bloody wonderful to me. Crisp and refreshing. Being New South Wales, there was no fear of getting snatched by a croc like what happens in the north, and Mangrove Creek never seemed to have any leeches, either, which was a welcome surprise.

Taking a breath, I submerged fully to wet my hair, and when I came up, the sound of a woman clearing her throat turned me back toward my campsite. Thankful that I was up to my neck in the water, I stared in surprise at the slender blond woman standing on the shore in denim shorts and a white tee shirt that strained over her impressive tits. The ties of a white bikini top were knotted behind her neck. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail and a pair of sunnies rested on her head. She looked between thirty and thirty-five, at a guess.

"Uh, g'day," I said awkwardly.

"Hello," she said in response, her blue eyes regarding me seriously. "I don't mean to be rude, but you're camping on my land."

"Your land?" I knew there was a confused look on my face.

She nodded. "As of last week. The state government released new areas for sale and I bought several hundred acres, including very spot." Her accent was precise and cultured, like Cassie's, though I was willing to bet she was from another city. Adelaide, maybe.

As for my accent, well I can sound pretty lowbrow if I don't watch it, so I tried my best to sound civilized. "Look, I'm sorry. I've been coming here the past three years. I didn't know the land had been sold." Wait, several hundred acres? This chick must be loaded!

Surprisingly, she waved a hand dismissively. "Forget about it. It'll be ages before I do anything with it, probably. My ex-husband and his mates will be begging me to put some huge development here and sell it to them, but I haven't made up my mind yet."

I nodded slowly. "Fair enough. How'd you get out here, anyway? I always pick this spot 'cause it's so hard to find."

She smiled. "You chose well. I would never have known you were here except that I saw your fire last night. I'm camped on the next point over." The lake was surrounded by small points of land, like fingers reaching into the water, some of which were ideal for camping. "To help facilitate the sale process," the woman continued. "The government made some easy-going temporary tracks that lead to key features of the land. One such trail leads pretty much to my campsite, which means all I needed was a four-by-four and half a brain."

I grinned at that. She was confident, and I liked her sense of humour. "Well then, I guess we're neighbours," I said. So much for solitude, but the presence of a pretty woman soothed the burn significantly. "I'd get out and shake your hand, but I'm uh, in the middle of my morning bath."

She chuckled. "I noticed. What's the water like?"

"Bloody wonderful," I said honestly. "It's a little cool, but I find it refreshing." I decided to take a gamble. "Care to join me?" I asked, flashing my best grin.

The busty blond studied me for a moment. "Are you a serial killer, neighbour? Are you gonna Mick Taylor me if I get in?"

I laughed and raised my hands in a non-threatening manner. "You're safe with me, I promise. Besides, this is Mangrove Creek, not Wolf Creek. And my name's not Mick. It's Dan. Dan Simonds."

"Alright, Dan Simonds. I'll take a quick dip. I've got two friends on their way to my camp, but they're a few hours away yet, so all good." Smart woman, to let me know she had friends coming, just in case I turned out to be a psycho after all. She reached for the hem of her tee shirt, and I suddenly found myself filled with that sense of anticipation that only comes when a beautiful woman is about to take her clothes off. "I'm Robyn, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Robyn," I murmured as she peeled her top off and let it drop to the sand. She had a great body. Flat tummy, nice hips, a slender waist and tits that exploded out from her chest. The bikini was modest enough, but it was perhaps a size too small, and creamy flesh struggled against the white fabric. Surprisingly, she seemed to have a solid tan with no lines that I could see. Nude sunbather?

Just at that moment, the sun broke the tree line to the east, and Robyn was silhouetted by a golden nimbus as she went for the button on her shorts. I'm not a perv -- well, no more than any other red-blooded bloke around -- but my breath hitched as she bent forward to push her shorts down her long legs.

Despite myself -- and the cool water -- I started to crack a fat one. This was the hottest woman I'd ever seen up-close in a bikini, bar none. What happened next just about made me choke. With a cheeky wink, Robyn reached for the tie of her bikini top and pulled. Time slowed down as the strings fell first, followed by the cups, to reveal a perfect pair of what had to be natural D-cups at the least, all natural and sitting proud and firm on her chest. Not a tan line in sight on her lightly browned skin. Yep, nude sunbather. A woman after my own heart.