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I Went Fishing

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You encounter another angler at your private place.
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Ashson
Ashson
8,539 Followers

I decided that I wanted some trout for dinner so I went fishing. I grabbed my fishing gear and strolled off down to the river. I knew a couple of deep pools where I should be able to pick up a few nice specimens.

As I approached the first of the pools where I was going to try my luck I heard a voice chattering away. The voice was female and non-stop, just going on and on, with no break to give someone the right of reply. Coming off the trail and onto the grassy area around the pool I found Sally-Mae was there, having been doing a bit of angling. Successfully, too, judging from the four fat trout on her string. I have no idea who she was talking to as she was by herself. Knowing Sally-Mae, probably the fish.

Sally-Mae was twentyish, married to Bobby. She was around five foot six, very nicely curved, with long dark hair and dark brown eyes. She had what they call a heart-shaped face, with red lips and an olive skin. Her lips were the colour that other girls use lipstick to get. Did I mention that she had a superb bust? I suppose nicely curved might have indicated that but it's a tame statement, doing nothing to put across the magnificence of her breasts.

Right now she was wearing sandals and an old dress, probably not wanting to get one of her better dresses all muddy and fishy, which I can quite understand. I couldn't help but wonder if she knew that one of the tears in that dress showed some gleaming white skin at an interesting place, indicating that she wasn't wearing a bra. It seemed to me that if her dress snagged on something it would probably twitch that interesting tear to the side a little and a nipple would pop into view. What a pity there wasn't anything to cause the dress to snag. (Perhaps my fingers could help at some stage.)

While I was checking her out a little breeze wandered past, plastering the dress against her. As far as I could see there was no visible panty-line, leaving me to wonder if she was one hundred percent commando, naked beneath that tatty old dress. I was willing to lay odds that she was.

"Brandon, what do you think of these?" she said when she saw me, holding her trout up.

"Very nice," I assured her, looking directly at her breasts. "Very nice indeed. Oh, I see you've got some trout."

"I was referring to the trout and you know it," she said rather smugly.

I'd noticed in the past that Sally-Mae was a little vain where her looks were concerned, always willing to lap up any compliments that might be passed around.

"Now Sally-Mae, how do you expect me to look at some little old fish when you're standing there, smiling?" I asked. "I've always considered you the cutest little thing and damned if you haven't grown into the loveliest girl in the district."

"Oh, you," she said, flapping a hand at me. "You're just saying that."

"No, really," I protested. "Just check a mirror and you'll know I speak the truth. Why, even that tatty old dress can't hide your beauty. If anything it just makes you shine the brighter."

"This thing?" she scoffed, plucking at it with one hand. "This is just a rag I wear when I go fishing. No way am I getting my good things all dirty and smelly."

"Quite understandable," I said, observing with interest that her plucking at the dress had shifted that tear just enough that it now framed her nipple. To tell her or not to tell her, that was the question. I moved closer.

"The problem with that old dress is that it's gotten a little too old. While it frames you beautifully right here I suspect that that isn't what you desire from a dress."

To indicate where it framed her so nicely I placed a finger on her nipple and pressed lightly. Sally-Mae gave a slight gasp and twitched the dress to cover the nipple, blushing slightly, even if she did take her time adjusting the dress.

"You have magnificent breasts and it's a crying shame that they're hidden by that old dress. Why don't you take it off and give me a treat."

"What? I couldn't do that!"

"Of course you can. It's just a matter of lifting the dress over your head and letting me enjoy the perfection currently hidden."

"No, but really, what would people say?"

I looked around rather ostentatiously and laughed.

"What people would that be?" I asked. "It's not as though you're going to run around telling anyone and if I was silly enough to mention it I'd be laughed at for having daydreams. Go on. What have you got to lose? Just put these down and off it comes. You can put it on again quickly enough."

While talking I lifted her string of fish and laid them on the grass. Her hands actually took hold of the dress and twitched upwards for a moment before giving a gasp and stopping, a real blush now on her face.

"Um, I can't. I really can't," she said, sounding as though she really meant it.

"Why not?" I coaxed. "You know you want to." I gave her a wicked wink.

"I don't want to," she said quickly, "and I can't, anyway."

"Why not?" I asked again. Then I gave her a wicked grin to go with the wicked wink. "Don't tell me. Let me guess. You were only going fishing and wearing that old dress so you didn't bother with panties. Am I right?"

"None of your business," she was quick to inform me.

"I am right. All the more reason to get rid of that dress. It'll let me see all your beauty in one glorious display. Come on. This'll probably be the only chance I ever have to properly see and appreciate your body. I'll admit to seeing you in a bikini in the past but you're older now and your body has matured that much more. Really, your breasts used to be mighty fine but I suspect that they're now magnificent. You couldn't be so cruel to deprive me of this one chance to behold your true beauty."

"Watch me," she said.

"That's exactly what I want to do. Just watch. It's not as though I'm going to grab. I want to just stand and admire your feminine pulchritude."

"My what?" she asked, sounding suspicious.

"Pulchritude. It means something that is beyond beauty, used for describing the great beauties of history. Just standing there you glow with this innate beauty. All I'm asking is that you take off that old rag for a short while."

"It's not a rag."

"How would you describe it?"

She was silent for a moment and then shrugged.

"Okay, I'll admit it's a rag, but if I take of this 'rag' you'd be all over me like a particularly nasty rash."

"Never, I swear. Hands kept strictly to myself. I wouldn't dream of embarrassing you by trying to grab."

I put my hands behind my back to show the honesty of my intentions.

She was biting on her lower lip as she thought it over. She was tempted, oh, so tempted. A chance to show off before someone who obviously thought she was beautiful. She took a deep breath and whipped the dress up and off, holding it in one hand, looking at me nervously.

"Oh my god, I've gone blind," I said, slapping a hand dramatically across my eyes. "You are magnificent. I can't believe how wonderful you look."

She did look pretty good. Slender but well filled out at all the right spots. Her breasts stood firm and pointing, with no noticeable sag, though that probably wouldn't last for more than a couple more years, not with breasts that size. Her hips were deliciously curved, her skin creamy smooth, clean shaven or waxed, and that applied to both her legs and her mons. All in all, a delightful package.

My hands came up and I trailed my fingertips across the underside of her breasts, curving around and up the sides. She gasped and slapped at my hands.

"You said no touching," she hastened to point out.

"Oh, come on, now, Sally-Mae," I protested. "You can't really call this touching. This is just the honest worship of beauty. To properly appreciate things as beautiful as these they must not just be seen but touched and tasted."

As soon as I said that I realised that I hadn't tasted her breasts so I took steps to remedy that. I leaned down a little, one hand going around her to discourage her from retreating, and my mouth closed gently on her breast. She tasted sweet, even sweeter when a minor adjustment resulted in her nipple slipping into my mouth. Nipples are just made to be grazed with your teeth and rolled around by your tongue. Sally-Mae seemed to be saying something but I wasn't listening, finding a desire to taste her other breast more important.

I lifted my head away to find that Sally-Mae was flushed, breathing harder, and slightly indignant.

"You had no right to do that," she protested. "What would Tommy say if he knew?"

"Well, I have no intention of telling him and I doubt that you will, so why worry," I said. "Besides, my tasting you doesn't really impact on him at all. Your breasts are still there for when he wants to make love to you and I'm sure they'll taste just as sweet."

"Apart from that you said you weren't going to touch. You can't say that wasn't touching."

"Well, maybe, but that was your fault. Not mine. I had no idea just how lovely and irresistible you really were. I was overcome by something stronger than my will, your beauty."

The hand that was currently resting on her back slid down until it cupped her bottom. At the same time my other hand landed on her tummy and slid down to reach her mons, where it started massaging her.

"What are you doing?"

"Just getting you prepared for me to make love to you," I said softly, my hand moving lower and slipping between her legs, still keeping up the massaging. It was interesting to note that she was standing with her legs nicely parted, giving me easy access.

"You can't do that," she said with the inevitable protest.

"I can if you don't stop me," I pointed out. "All I'll have to do is ease you down onto the grass and spread your legs. Watch."

With that I pressed a knee behind one of hers and her knee buckled. From that point it was a minor matter to ease her down to the ground, settling down beside her. I once more had a hand on her breast with the other rubbing her vulva, feeling the heat coming from it. I was quite confident that she was aroused, ready, and able. It was the willing bit that I wasn't laying bets on.

I hooked a foot over her ankle and slowly pulled, finding her quite willing to allow me to spread her legs. I kept touching her, stroking her, trying to assess the state of her arousal. I finally rose onto my knees, undid my trousers and slid them down, letting her see for herself just how aroused I was.

"Oh my, you're really going to do it, aren't you," she said with a bit of a gasp.

I moved until I was between her thighs, looming over her, my erection lightly touching her.

"Not unless you agree," I said softly. "Someone as beautiful as you should never be made to make love against her will. If you do agree you'll be giving me a memory that will last a lifetime."

(And if she didn't agree pretty damn soon I was likely to fuck her anyway. You didn't get a raging hard-on like mine without getting an equally raging desire to use it.)

I stroked the head of my cock against her slit, brushing it against her pursed and swollen lips, letting her dampness transfer to my cock. I paused for a moment, ready to drive home.

"Time to decide," I told her. "Time to say yes."

I pressed a little harder, threatening but not entering. She gasped.

"God damn you, yes. Stop teasing and do it," she cried in a half shout, and she didn't need to ask me a second time. I drove in hard, sheathing myself in her moist heat with one quick thrust. She groaned her relief, her legs coming up and wrapping around me.

I just held myself deep inside her for a moment, both of us relaxing a little mentally now that we were actually committed. I finally started moving, pulling way back and returning with long, leisurely strokes. I wanted this to last. If I happened to drive Sally-Mae out of her mind while doing so, that was just a bonus.

We matched nicely for a while, Sally-Mae responding and moving with me. I kept up this nice gentle rhythm for a reasonable time, thoroughly enjoying the feel of my cock sliding into her.

Sally-Mae apparently considered my reasonable time to be unreasonable. She started encouraging me to go faster, harder, to do it, damn you. I just smiled at her, prolonging our encounter. She got quite rude there after a while.

Deciding that she'd suffered enough I picked up the pace. Now we were a lot more energetic with Sally-Mae totally enthusiastic about the whole deal. Personally, I still had a lot left in the tank and was pacing myself accordingly. I guess Sally-Mae's arousal built faster than mine as soon she was demanding I pick up the pace once again. Once again I ignored her request, no matter how energetically (and rudely) she made it.

I think she was poised on the edge of climaxing when I next picked up the pace. I was now driving home quite energetically, hitting hard, relishing the impact. Taking her with this sort of effort left me feeling all strong and masterful with her subservient beneath me. Mind you, from her language I wouldn't say that she was feeling subservient, but there was nothing she could do about it. I was firmly in control.

"You seem a little edgy," I eventually remarked. "Are you just about ready to go?" (As if she hadn't been ready for the past five minutes or more.)

She was all, "Yes, yes, yes. Finish it, damn you," and with a smile and a wink I moved into my end game, driving in just as hard and as fast as I could. She went up in flames, clamping hold of my cock, making me really work to finish off while she did her best to suck my soul out of me.

I sat back and relaxed as Sally-Mae darted into the pool to rinse of. She flung her rag of a dress back on and snatched up her fish. Turning she gave me the evil eye.

"This never happened," she stated firmly.

"What never happened?" I asked. "I've only just arrived here so I wouldn't know."

"Right," she said and headed towards the trail, obviously wanting to get home to cook her trout.

"Of course, if anything had happened," I called after her, "it was probably the most stupendous thing that ever happened to me."

She flashed me a look and I could see she had a big smirk on her face. As far as she was concerned she'd come, seen, and conquered. I suspected that I was now a notch on her belt, not that she could ever admit it.

I gathered up my fishing gear and headed towards the far side of the pool where the bigger trout tended to congregate. I wanted my dinner. Healthy exercise always puts an edge to my appetite. As I fished I wondered what would happen the next time I caught Sally-Mae alone. I was quietly confident that her panties would drop by the wayside quite quickly. I'd have to wait and see.

Ashson
Ashson
8,539 Followers
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8 Comments
IFAFILHGIFAFILHGabout 3 years ago
Where.....

is the plot here? Maybe ..... slut whore cheats on her husband ?

dragonmann72dragonmann72over 4 years ago

She had what they call a heart-shaped face, with red lips and an olive skin.

I couldn't help but wonder if she knew that one of the tears in that dress showed some gleaming white skin at an interesting place, indicating that she wasn't wearing a bra.

Which was it Olive or white?

AnonymousAnonymousover 4 years ago
Story okay, some comments dysfunctional.

By making comments such as "as usual, garbage" or "always one star", one is admitting that they keep coming back to read Ashon's stories. Some people really need to get a life.

AnonymousAnonymousover 4 years ago
Question

Who is Tommy? Will he tell Bobby?

AnonymousAnonymousover 4 years ago
Kind of dumb, . . .

and so was the story.

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