In an earlier story, Does Mark Have a Fetish?, Eileen had accused Mark of having a rubber boot fetish, which he did but was loathe to admit it. It would have been safe to say that Eileen was hardly enthusiastic about wearing wellies herself, but on that same rainy day had gone to the mall and found a stylish pair and bought them. In a naughty frame of mind she decided to model them for Mark when he got home that evening. She not only modeled them, but wore just a sexy bra, garter belt, and stockings. She certainly turned on Mark and they had sex, which of course was with Eileen wearing her new wellies all the while.
Some months later winter had passed and Mark had been offered the free use of a fishing camp in Ontario. Having not fished in many years he thought it was a great opportunity to get away and unwind. Surprisingly, when he mentioned it to Eileen, she was equally enthusiastic.
As the weeks went by and they started gathering the things that they'd need for the trip, Mark realized that they still needed to buy a few important items.
"I've been putting everything in the spare bedroom until we're ready to pack," Eileen told Mark.
"That's a good idea. I don't have a written list, but sort of a mental idea of everything that we'll need to bring," he said walking to the back of the house to take inventory.
"We are going to be sort of off the grid. Like no TV, no internet, and no indoor plumbing," Eileen observed.
"It's going to be roughing it. There will be enough to do just to get through the day. The hot water is made with a kettle on the woodstove."
"I never thought about that. Actually, I am sort of looking forward to learning a little about fishing. There's all sorts of pictures of women doing both deep sea and flyfishing. It looks like fun."
"I completely forgot about you going fishing. I've got to order you some hipwaders."
"Is that your kinky rubber boot fetish speaking again?"
"No, it's just that if you want to go fishing you need the right gear. Besides, I think you'll really look sexy in hipwaders."
"Do they come in any sexy colors? How well will they let me coordinate my wardrobe?"
"I think I have a catalog here, but you can get brown, green, black, or camo. What do you think will work the best?"
Eileen came over to Mark and glanced at the page that he had open in catalog. She carefully read the description for each of the hipwader offerings before concluding, "I think I like the black ones. That color will coordinate better and give me wardrobe options."
Mark just rolled his eyes at his wife's last comment. "Only Eileen could think that way!" he thought to himself.
"OK, I'll order a pair in size 7 for you. You'll no doubt look really sexy in these," he replied as he dogeared the page for future reference before returning to all the gear that had been laid out on the bed.
The night before they were to set out on our trip, Mark loaded the car and even marveled that they hadn't totally overdone the quantity of items that they were taking with them. They had their fishing tackle, both of them had their waders, there was a cooler containing food, and, of course, a case of beer. It was going to be a 10 hour drive, but because of the remoteness of the camp meant that other forms of transportation were out of the question.
The next day Mark and Eileen set out early—really early because the sun hadn't even come up. Yet. While they were anxious to get there, the length of the trip demanded that they pace themselves and not try to set any speed records.
Finally, they arrived at the remote camp. It was even more austere than either had imagined—the word "rustic" would have been a real overstatement for what they found. It was only two rooms: a kitchen/dining space and a bedroom that doubled as a sitting room because it had a huge stone fireplace. Mark supposed that for most of the year people sat out on the screened-in porch to socialize. The kitchen consisted of a cast iron woodstove and if you wanted water, there was a hand pump just outside the door. Illumination was with kerosene lamps and the toilet was an outhouse about 50 feet up a stone path—in other words you had to plan your visits.
They made a fire in the stove and cooked a simple meal before turning in, both of them dog tired from the long drive. However, they did sleep exceptionally well. The next morning they got up and realized that they would have to forgo their regular morning shower, primarily because there wasn't one.
"I'm anxious to go fishing," Mark announced to Eileen.
