FISHING BUDDY
Last March I had this fishing trip to Big Rock Reservoir planned with my good buddy, Jim, but he canceled at the last minute. He said it was something to do with his wife. It was
always
something to do with his wife. Half of our trips were canceled or rescheduled because of his wife. I guess he was happy with her though; she had a hot body, and he told me he could use all three of her holes and finish wherever he wanted. That's probably the real reason he stayed home - so he could fuck his wife's ass and cum on her face! Can't say I blame him. I'd probably stay home too. You can buy fish at the store, but you can't always find a woman who fucks like that.
Anyway, I was already packed and ready to go, so I hopped in the pickup and headed out. The drive was long but scenic and I was glad to have some time to myself. Of course I daydreamed about fucking.
I arrived at the lake and set up camp. After making a quick dinner, I rigged-up for a couple hours of evening fishing.
To my dismay, I wasn't having much luck. For and hour and a half I only had a few nibbles, but nothing bit. The wind off the water was chilly and I began to question my decision to drive all this way for nothing but discomfort. My hands and face were getting cold.
The sun was starting to dip below the horizon when a heard a woman's voice call to me from higher up on the bank.
"What kind of rod you got there," she asked.
To be honest, I was a little startled at the unexpected voice. I turned and saw the uniform of the department of fish and wildlife. I started to get a little anxious even though I was following all the rules.
My worried thoughts settled, and I responded, "Oh just an Uglystick."
"Do you mind if I come down and see how you're doing?" She asked.
"Sure thing," I said. "Come on down. "
Just then my pole bent hard, and the drag whizzed as line peeled off my real. I set the hook, and the fight was on. After tightening the drag a touch I had more luck reining in the fish. The next thing I knew, the fish and wildlife woman was standing next to me. I looked over and smiled, expecting an old, weathered snag. To my surprise, she was decently cute - at least her face was pretty, and she seemed to have fine proportions under her heavy coat and government-issue pants.
"Not too many fish are caught here," she said. "I was going to suggest you try a different hole but here you are with a fish on." Then she laughed and continued, "Maybe a stiffer pole would come in handy though."
All I could think were dirty thoughts. Different hole? Stiffer pole? Just what was she saying here?
After spending half the day by myself, daydreaming about fucking, her words struck me as amusing. I smirked.
"Well," I said. "My pole is usually stiff enough."
"We'll see about that," she grinned. "Just land the fish so I can take a look at it."
"So you're not going to arrest me for sticking my pole in the wrong hole?" I said, wondering to myself why I could not just keep conversations clean. I had to make it dirty. Always.
"I'm a biologist," she said. "Not a game warden. Besides you seem to be fishing legally... and there really aren't any wrong holes here... but some holes simply require more finesse."
I remained on the fence about her choice of words. I wondered if she was really talking dirty or if my imagination was getting the best of me.
Suddenly the fish surfaced, and I refocused on landing it. I pulled it close to the shore and asked the biologist,
