What I'm about to tell you came to me, while watching the dogs playing in our yard on Sunday the 4th of November, so I threw some ideas together and cobbled up a quick story for a second entry into A Sunburnt Country Story event.
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My sorry tale is based on certain events, and I'm sure that you won't be inclined to contact the cops and report me once you hear my sad tale.. but I'm pretty sure you'll find the police won't believe you anyway. Dropbear don't exist.
My name is Doug Bader, I'm 52 years old, about five foot seven, ninety kilos weight, sandy hair with a couple of grey hairs creeping in, mainly in my beard. Hazel eyes, and a trusting mind. Or so I thought...
Twenty years I've been married to Helen, the love of my life, she's still damm beautiful for her age at 42. I know the ten years age difference, but love is love right? First I should describe Helen for you, before I start the story off.
Helen still has the figure she had when I married her twenty years ago, good genetics apparently it seems. Shoulder length black hair, green eyes and B cup breasts, slim build only a size ten jeans, I know because many a time I've gone shopping with her. As far as sex went it was just missionary, anything else was off limits, when we were younger I'd eat her out but then it was just fuck her in missionary position after that. Blow jobs we're out of the question, that was disgusting to her, she didn't like the taste of my cum.
Twenty five years I've worked in the coal mining industry, so we're pretty well off. We own the house, and with two incomes we managed to put away a lot of money into our nest egg account for our retirements, 220k cash, plus the superannuation looked healthy because I'd been salary sacrificing 10k a year on top of the normal contributions. 500k in my super account. 220k in bank account and we owned our house worth over 350k market value. Life was looking good until that day happened...
Our computer had been running slow, so I defragged and ran security updates on it then rebooted it. Logged into my email account and found an email from someone called Tom Daniels.. I thought Tom the superintent from the mine? Curiously I opened it...
My eyes read it, disbelieving. That fucker had sent an email by mistake to me, telling me he was leaving his wife, and had a stash of money he had gotten by stealing from the company we worked for, 750k. He'd hidden the money in a false account, after transferring the money around several banks and different accounts, and was asking when I was going to add my money.
I sat back in the computer chair thinking.. on an impulse I checked my outgoing messages with a cold knot in my stomach.. then I found it, a message sent from email account, but I hadn't sent it.
My loving faithful wife must have sent it, the bitch. Her message said she could get the money from the joint account easily enough, but the superannuation money would have to wait after I'd been declared dead, as she was the sole beneficiary. Fuck I wanted to kill her as soon as she walked through the door..
I walked out to the fridge, grabbed a Pacific Radner beer from the fridge, and went out to feed the dogs. Bandit and Bear my two pig dogs, my best two mates in the world came up wagging their tails, rubbing against my legs.. Bandit looked like the dog Marmaduke from the cartoon, in the papers years ago, mainly black with a blaze of white and brown on his chest, while Bear was a crossbreed of everything, long Coarse white hair, floppy ears but a goofball who liked to climb trees. I'm not shitting you.
The dumb faithful goofball would inch his way up trees, which grew on an angle and sit there till I told him to get down, usually with a command "drop", and he did just that, even from ten foot high, jumping down howling, one crazy dog I owned, that's for sure. I sat there thinking, on how I'd like to get payback on my cheating wife and her boyfriend, but I didn't want to go to jail for their murders. Sure as shit if they met foul play, I'd be one of the first suspects, to be interviewed by the cops, probably the main suspect.
After playing with the dogs, and cooling down I started thinking, how long had they been having an affair, where was the proof and how could I not have to pay half of everything I had built up, to those two scheming lovers? I needed proof for sure, maybe she had left something behind on the computer??
Logging in under Helens name was easy, she kept all account details and login details, and passwords written in a notepad by the computer. I looked through the files she had, then clicked on one called Doctors Appointments.
The stupid bitch had saved all her messenger conversations there, and there was a lot of them, no wonder her messenger history was empty. They had been carrying on an affair behind my back for two years now. Every time I worked night shift, the prick messaged her to check if the coast was clear, before coming over to pump my wife's pussy full of cum, no wonder she didn't want oral sex from me. I copied the files onto a memory stick, along with the emails she had sent, and the one Tom had sent me then deleted them from the computer. Let her think she had accidentally deleted them and that I wasn't aware of her affair. I needed a plan..
I started taking notice of where Helen was spending money from our joint account, and sure enough she made a mistake. One day, after she had been to the chemists for her monthly tablets, I noticed the amount was higher than usual. A bit of discrete snooping in her prescriptions, revealed a muscle relaxant script from the doctor.
Time for me to put my own plans into play it seemed. One of the things we liked to do, was go camping for a weekend or a week, when we had the time to do so. Perhaps I should tell you about our favourite spot first.
We live on the coast of North Quernsland, about half way between the cities of Mackay and Townsville in a small town about 85 kilometres inland near the Bowen River. Now this river is the only live river on the Burdekin River system, that runs from the Broken and Little Bowen rivers down to the Bowen river which feeds into the Burdekin river below the Burdekin river dam. It's full of crocodiles, both small freshwater and the larger saltwater crocodile species, my guess was that I would be drugged and dropped into a waterhole on the river, probably at Telegraph hole, our favourite camping spot, all they had to do was make it look like an accident, and the plan would work.
A couple of weeks later on a Saturday, I was down in the shed when Helen asked what I was doing. Just going through our camping gear I replied, I thought it would be a good idea to spend a weekend at telegraph hole.
It seemed she thought about it for a minute, then she asked when I wanted us to go camping. Now I was watching the kitchen window from inside the shed, and I watched her typing on her phone, chatting to someone. Next weekend I said. Helen typed something, then she said that sounded good and typed a long reply to whomever it was, by this time I was sure it was Tom she was talking to. She smiled at a reply from Tom, then reached into the cupboard where she kept her prescriptions, and took out a packet I hadn't seen before from inside a tampon packet. Clever bitch, I thought, the one place I wouldn't have looked myself, then she put the tablets back in the tampon packet.
Later that night when she went for a shower I snuck into the kitchen and checked the tampon packet. A packet of muscle relaxants was in there, so I replaced them back and put the tampon packet back in it's place. I looked out the window thinking, as the dogs ran around the yard.
Bandit as usual running the legs off Bear, while me old mate Bear did his usual play ritual, jumping and howling, an idea came to my mind. I had a plan now.
Two fridays later I loaded up the Toyota Hilux twincab with our camping gear, making sure I put everything in, the esky filled with drinks, the rifle on the rack to get a kangaroo for dog meat, and the camping gear and fishing rods and tackle in the back of the ute. Last night I had spoilt Helen, making her favourite dinner, then a massage, afterwards we made love, well she thought we did.
I just had sex with her, pushing her to several orgasms, so she thought everything was as normal. The next day things were changing for our future, I had checked the tampon packet and the muscle relaxant tablets were gone, nor had she used them. Looks like something was going to happen this weekend. But I had a plan put together, either way our marriage was finished....
Saturday morning early saw the ice put on the beers, and the vodka cruisers for Helen in the esky, the meat put in as well and we were off. The trip took 20 minutes to the Bowen river bridge, then we turned off the bitumen road onto the dirt track that lead upstream. I maintained a sense of normalcy, rubbing Helens leg above her knee. Half an hour later we arrived at the Telegraph hole, so named for the old telegraph poles that still stood sentinel either side of the river.
Setting up camp took about half an hour, we had the routine down pat by now. Fireplace made, bbq plate ready beside it so we grabbed the fishing rods and a six pack of drinks, and went to our favourite fishing spot. Two hours later four fat black bream, about forty centimetres long were in the keeper pot, so we sat around in the shallow rapids.
It was safe swimming there, because the big saltwater crocs tended to live near the deeper water holes. Helen moved over closer beside me, Now I'm not blind, but her hard nipples poking out of her bikini top, could have taken out blind Freddy's eyes, they were that hard. My hand caressed her nipples, teasing them before sliding the cups of her bikini top aside, after my other hand undid the ties behind her neck. She protested, but her hands allowed her bikini top to slide down. She was playing appearances also it seemed, never before had she allowed me to play with the girls in public view.
