The Blue Sunfish

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They find each other in this cum soaked fetish adventure.
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eclare
eclare
1,103 Followers

This is a copyrighted original work of fiction. All rights reserved. All characters featured herein are at least eighteen years of age, even if not expressly stated. Any resemblance between actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. Song lyrics contained herein remain the exclusive property of the original artist. This work may not be copied or distributed without the exclusive written permission of this author.

Many thanks to BlackRandl for the fine editing work. Thank you BlackRandl for working tirelessly to include me in the Highway Song event.

*****

It all started with my sister phoning me all stressed out.

"We've now had three phone calls and someone named Herman left a message after reading Amanda's Facebook page; they're all asking about the blue fish."

"What? You mean the one Amanda caught?" I asked her, completely perplexed.

"Yeah."

"But that was like five or six years ago."

"It will be ten this summer."

"What's going on?"

"Exactly, Kev. What the hell is going on and why do I have some Asian guy named Tintoo or Tenwoo—whatever—calling here asking to speak to Amanda? And why are they interested in her Facebook page?"

"I haven't a clue."

"You've got to make it stop, Kev."

"How?"

Marcie gave me the name and phone number of the one 'nice sounding lady' who called from Austria. "Find out what the hell is going on and make it stop."

It was almost ten years before when my sister separated from her dickhead husband. She was now divorced. I flew out to Vancouver, rented a cube van, packed up all of her stuff and drove her and her daughter from Kelowna, British Columbia, clear across Canada back to Toronto. We took our time, travelling about ten days while camping on the way. It was during that trip that eight-year-old Amanda caught a blue sunfish on the Barbie fishing rod I bought her. I took a photo of her beaming face while holding the fish. I recalled joking with her, teasing that it was probably radioactive, and I had her hold the fish at arm's length in front to create a false perspective of her catching a bigger fish. It was all fun. It was me and Marcie trying to make the best of an arduous journey after her nasty separation.

Following the trip, I copied all of our 'holiday' pictures and handed them over to Marcie on a little memory stick. That was the last time I saw the photos or gave the sunfish a moment's thought.

I called the nice sounding woman—Rosalind Di Donato—with the intent of getting to the bottom of the matter and having her and the others stop pestering my sister and niece, per my sister's request.

"Please call me Rose." She did indeed have a pleasant, mercurial voice with the slightest European accent.

Rose explained that she is a natural history professor at the Vienna University, although she had obtained her doctorate in something or other related to freshwater fish—ichthyology—at Heidelberg. Somehow Amanda's photo made it onto some aquarium blog the previous week and there had been a speculation amongst those who know and discuss such matters as to whether her blue sunfish was, in fact, a new species.

Apparently, the race was on to find the little blue sunfish.

"Please, Mr. Mayfield, can you recall exactly where she caught the fish?"

"Not a clue. It was either south-east Manitoba or northern Ontario." I paused for a moment trying to recollect; we had camped and stopped at so many places. "Northern Ontario would be my guess," I added.

"Hmmm."

"How did you find Amanda?"

"Oh," I seemed to interrupt her train of thought, "it was a reverse look-up. The photo that was posted on the blog was also found on her Facebook page. She should remove it, at once."

"I agree."

"Mr. Mayfield..."

"Please call me Kevin... Rose?"

"Yes."

"How did Amanda's Facebook photo get posted on the aquarium blog?"

"Anyone can post on the blog. But as far as the photo goes, I haven't the slightest idea. You should check with her."

"Hmm."

Rose continued, "Not only I, but others, too, and indeed science would like to find that fish."

"That's fine, but I don't want my niece's or my sister's privacy invaded. Tell me honestly, are they in any danger?"

"No, no, not at all, and I can assure you that all I'm looking for is simply information of where that fish was caught."

"Rose, honestly, I don't know."

"You mean you can't recall."

"That is correct."

She paused for a moment before saying, "Still, you and your sister and your niece are the only people that hold all the clues, the pointers as it were, to where that fish was caught, even if consciously you can't pick up a map and point to a location and say, here."

"I guess."

"Are you...uhm...for any reason...averse to the idea of helping me find that spot on the map?"

"No not at all. But uhmm...it was like, ten years ago."

"I understand that. Kevin." She paused for a moment and then asked, "May I call you back in about an hour? I'd like to continue this conversation and I want to make sure that it's not at your expense. Would you mind if I called you back?"

"No, I mean yeah, call me back." I gave her my number. There was no question, I was intrigued.

"Good, in the meantime, have your niece remove that photo from her Facebook page, and please do not take phone calls or answer any emails from anyone else in connection with the blue fish. There are some unscrupulous characters out there. I'm not trying to frighten you, but please, trust me on this matter."

"Okay," I gulped.

She called back about an hour later.

"Kevin, I need your assistance and I don't want to impose on you in any way. I would very much wish to sit down and talk with you, to try to establish where that fish was caught."

"Fine."

"I don't think it would be fair for me to barge in on your life, so I have a proposition for you."

Suspiciously I answered, "Okaaay..."

"I would very much like to invite you and your wife, or your partner or friend, together with your sister and her husband and niece to Vienna for two nightsm or so. All your expenses will be paid. We need to try to narrow down where the fish was caught. All your travel costs, accommodations, everything will be paid."

"Okaaay..."

"Think of it as a mini-vacation," she said, reassuring me. "I'll put you all up in a nice hotel here in Vienna; you will be my guests. I will need to meet with you for an hour or two; otherwise, you will be tourists. My guests. Vienna is a beautiful city. Does that sound reasonable?"

"Wow, that's certainly generous, Rose." I was definitely still a little shocked by the offer, but it sounded okay, but still, a little suspicious. She is all of a sudden suggesting to fly a bunch of people to Vienna and back with all expenses paid, all for a stupid little fish? Weird.

"I can't speak for Marcie or Amanda, but..." I hesitated, "I'm game, I guess."

"Great!"

"When do you want to do this?"

"As soon as possible."

"Okay I'll ask Marcie and call you back."

"You can email me. There's no need for you to make overseas calls."

"Fine." She gave me her email address.

"And if you must respond to someone else inquiring after the fish, simply refer them to Professor Rosalind Di Donato, from Vienna. Hopefully that will discourage them from further intrusions into your lives."

"Okay."

*****

"I can't see how Amanda or I could possibly help," Marcie said over the phone that night, "I mean you were the one who was driving, I had no idea where we were. Amanda surely won't remember. She was eight and asleep most of the time or had her head buried in a book."

It was all true.

"Don't get me wrong," Marcie continued, "I'd love to go to Vienna, but in all honesty, someone would be wasting money flying Amanda and me over there just to say, 'Sorry, I don't remember.' It was a blue sunfish, there was water, a creek, I think, maybe a marsh. It was a lovely sunny day. That I remember. We propped up the fold-up chairs and watched Amanda fish. I can't even remember what we had for lunch. Was it even lunch or just a driving break? Maybe we camped there. It's all blur, I can't remember."

"I know. Neither can I. Were we even in Ontario?"

She sighed over the phone, "Maybe. I think so, but I'm not sure. It certainly wasn't in Banff."

*****

"It'll just be me coming to Vienna," I said to Rose over the phone the next day, avoiding the impersonal email, "I'm not married and currently don't have a SO, so I'm afraid it's just me."

"Oh."

"I talked with Marcie and although she truly appreciates your generous offer, she's declined on the basis that she really feels that she has nothing to add in your pursuit of the fish."

We talked for a few more minutes. Rose convinced me to collect all of the photos from the trip, together with whatever maps I had, and receipts or Visa card statements pertaining to that trip. "Is there a record of the cube van rental? A mileage record?"

"Maybe."

"The photos may jog you and your sister's memories and they may provide a visual clue based on recorded weather data during your trip."

Clever woman!

I emailed her my personal data for flight booking and hotel registry, indicating I was available any time, at her convenience.

The next day I received an email package: Tuesday March 14th, Air Austria, Toronto to Vienna, returning on the 16th, with two nights booked at the Intercontinental, keep all receipts, a cab will be waiting at the airport. All the flight information was listed together with the local weather forecast: cool, 60% chance of showers.

Mozart was playing over the internal sound system as I boarded the jet. I only had carry-on luggage. The overnight red-eye flight was pleasant but long. Somehow, I managed to doze off just long enough to completely miss the meal. A foreign looking gentleman held a little placard with 'Mayfield' scrawled on it as I left the secure arrivals section of the airport in Vienna.

The Intercontinental Hotel was posh and modern. There was a note waiting for me at the front desk.

Mr. Mayfield,

Please meet me at the hotel's bar at 4:30 pm. I'll be wearing a blue and gold jacket.

Rose

That gave me just over an hour and a half to freshen up.

Blue and gold, just like the sunfish.

*****

I immediately spotted a woman, sporting a very fancy blue jacket generously trimmed in gold sitting by herself at one of the low tables. She was surprisingly young and slight of build. Her straight shoulder length brown hair hung down as she studied her cell phone. A single wineglass sat on the wooden table in front of her, perched on a white napkin. A short glass of water sat adjacent to the wineglass.

"Rose?"

Her studious semi-frown immediately blossomed into a bright smile as she looked up at me. My immediate impression was that she was a beautiful woman. Her wide smile displayed bright white teeth with a space between the top front two. Her brown eyes sparkled with radiance.

I was blown away. She was so young looking, thin as a rake, but gorgeous, with perfect skin.

"Mr. Mayfield!" She immediately stood up, extending her thin hand towards me.

"Please call me Kevin," I said as I reached out to her hand. Blue nail polish on carefully manicured finger nails exactly matched the hue of her jacket.

"Thank you so much for coming to Vienna." Every syllable of every word was articulated in dulcet tones with her expressive lips from a sensitive mouth which seemed almost oversized. Her perfect English had a slight Germanic or Eastern European tinge to it. Very sexy.

"Thank you for having me." Her hand was warm to the touch. Her fingers strong, yet elegant.

"It's my pleasure." She dropped my hand and gestured to the soft chair opposite hers. "Please... and how was your flight?" Her sumptuous lips betrayed her every emotion. She was the picture of health. And intelligence!

"It was fine. I actually managed to nod off for an hour or so. Entirely not like me." I said as I eased into the chair across the table from her.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to take you to dinner tonight, but I thought we could simply meet first and get to know each other a little." She was slight in build, gorgeous in her own way and clearly smart as a tack. A professor?

"I must say Rose, you are not at all as I imagined."

She was a little shocked, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disappoint you."

"No! No!" I was back-peddling fast. "I... a Professor, I was just expecting..." Emotion betrayed her lips again, "Someone," I could feel myself blush, "...a bit older."

She smiled revealing her pearly whites, "I'm thirty-six, but thank you," she smiled sweetly.

"And I like your mystery sunfish jacket." It reminded me of the colours on King Tut's mask.

"Ha! I saw it and I couldn't resist. Perhaps it's a good omen."

"I hope so." I croaked. "I'm sorry, I just... I was kind of expecting an older person, sort of... a female version of... you know... elbow patches, eye glasses and a pocket liner."

"A nerd?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Well don't let looks fool you." She was grinning wildly.

She had me. I was a toad in front of this woman dressed in her sumptuous finery.

"I'm sorry. I just wasn't expecting a beautiful young woman."

"Oh, that's nice. And you're a good-looking man, Kevin."

Why didn't I just shut the fuck up? I knew I was blushing.

The waiter approached wearing a tuxedo and a white towel draped as an apron.

"What will you have?" she asked. Her eyes twinkled.

I regarded her drink for a moment. The tall wineglass contained a cloudy yellow-white liquid. Slight condensation on the outside of the glass betrayed its cool nature.

"It's sturm, storm, in English. It's very refreshing, a partially fermented white wine, which by law must have a minimum of 1% alcohol. It's a Viennese favorite." She picked up her glass and held it towards me, "Would you care to try some?" Blue fingernails contrasted the yellowing cloudy concoction. Her lips held a devilish smile.

A bit forward, and she was clearly not concerned with catching any crazy bugs off me. With a dash of bravado, I took the glass from her and sipped the sturm. Her smile morphed into a satisfied grin as she watched me react to the sip.

"Very nice," I said, "slightly tart, but still very nice."

Her grin widened, "Would you care for a glass?"

"Sure, thank you," I answered.

She ordered, in English, to the obviously German speaking waiter. It was clear to me that she did so out of deference to me. So polite. Such a class act. The waiter nodded and took off.

"Kevin, I must say something before we start." Her face was suddenly serious. "This is a quest that I'm embarking upon, hopefully with your guidance." She glanced towards the bar and caught sight of the waiter pouring a glass of sturm. "And again," she continued, "thank you for your cooperation and for travelling all the way to Vienna." Before I could react, her face changed, "Is this your first visit here?"

"Yes, it is."

"It's a wonderful city, I sincerely hope you take some time to enjoy some of its cultural riches."

"Oh, I plan to, and I'm on bit of a mission myself."

Her face changed again. "Oh?"

"You are on a mission to find a blue fish," the waiter placed a tall cool glass of sturm on a white napkin in front of me together with a short glass of water, "and I am on a mission to find the best Wiener schnitzel in Vienna."

She clapped her hands laughing in delight, "Then we can help each other!"

What a doll.

After a moment her countenance changed yet again. Again her lips betrayed her emotions. "Kevin, I have to say something before we start."

I picked up my glass of sturm. "Okay."

"I am not alone in my quest for the blue sunfish." She looked at me trying to gauge my reaction. I reacted to the tart liquid rather than her statement. It was sort of a cross between white wine and lemonade, without the sugar.

"Okaaay..."

"There is a certain gentlemen, who prefers to remain anonymous at this time, who is my..." she searched for the word while gauging my reaction, "benefactor... who has kindly financed your visit to Vienna and proposes to finance... my and all ancillary costs in connection with the expedition..."

"Expedition?" I cut her off.

Again, her lips betrayed her emotion. "Yes, to find the blue sunfish."

"Expedition? I mean, isn't that what explorers do? An expedition? To Ontario? It just seems a strange term."

"Well that is precisely what it is. There are currently a number of explorers, to use your term, which is the correct historical term, that do indeed, explore... hard to reach places of our planet in search of new species, whether they be plants, new orchids for example, ants, E.O. Wilson was famous for that, or my little niche... freshwater fish."

I just stared back at her in incredulity, I guess, with wineglass of cloudy liquid in my hand.

"When it comes to freshwater fish, one more often than not has to travel to war torn areas such as Myanmar or Yemen, or into the depths of Amazonia. North America, no doubt, still has potentially hundreds of undocumented freshwater species, but in this day and age, we are seemingly limited to finding small variant populations of sticklebacks, dace, shiners...small fish, minnows. A sunfish, by comparison, is huge. It's a fresh water sport fish, for goodness sake. To find a new species, if it's true, it's unheard of. In the ocean, new fish are discovered regularly, but not in North American fresh water, and certainly not as large as a sunfish."

"Wow." I took another sip.

"Nevertheless, I must disclose," she continued, "and receive your understanding and blessing before we move forward." She was all serious again, "There is a benefactor. We are working together to find the fish. He is financing the expedition. We have separate objectives in this project, yet our goals are fully complementary."

"Oh?"

"I wish to find the fish and, if it does prove to be a separate species, to document its existence in the scientific literature and name it. And... hopefully I may have some impact on its listing in the CITES references."

"Sight—ease?"

"The Convention on International Trade of Endangered Species. It's just one of the listing agencies."

"And what is his objective?"

"He's an industrialist, but an aquarium enthusiast. He sees an opportunity to earn fame in his hobby for bringing an exciting new species to the aquarium world, or at the very least, if it's not a separate species, to be able to bring heretofore unknown recessive genetic traits into the breeding pool of aquarium-bound sunfishes. They really are quite beautiful fish. For him, provided I can find the fish, it's a win either way. He can't lose."

"And for you?"

"If it's a sub-species variant of an established species, no great accolades, but there is always great fun in the hunt. The adventure." She was grinning wildly.

"Okay, I'm game. What do you want me to do?"

"Have dinner with me tonight. I just may be able to help you find your elusive Wiener schnitzel."

I couldn't help but laugh. The woman was a riot. And sexy as hell. "Okay I'm good with that."

"Wonderful. When would you like to eat?" She picked up her cell phone.

"I am hungry, I have to admit," I sighed, "and jet-lagged."

"Six o'clock?"

"Sure."

Rose flitted through a number of screens on her phone and then held it up to her ear. Speaking in English she tried to make reservations under her name for two diners at six o'clock.

"No?" She nodded then turned to me, "Would five-thirty be all right with you?"

"Sure," I said opening up my palm to the side.

Dinner was set. Schnitzel apparently, for five-thirty.

"If it wasn't raining, I would have suggested that we walk. It would only be fifteen minutes or so."

eclare
eclare
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