Randall looked out of his sixth-story office window to the street below and yawned. He glanced down at his watch. It was four-thirty pm: thirty more minutes and it would be time to knock off.
It had been a long day and being Friday, he was looking forward to a weekend of fishing and camping at Pine Lake.
His knapsack and camping gear were already packed and stored in the back of his RV.
Once five o'clock came, you would not see him for dust.
He went back to his desk and picked up his Shaffer pen to sign off the last of the documents, which had remained piled high on his desk all week.
God he hated paperwork.
His secretary, Cheryl, came into the room to tell him his 4:30 appointment had just rung to cancel his appointment stating some insipid excuse.
He sighed and impatiently threw his pen across his desk.
"Damn!" he thought irritably," If the inconsiderate mongrel had rung earlier he could have been already on his way to the lake instead of sitting around there waiting for him."
He glanced up at his assistant and smiled at her disarmingly.
This was not her fault.
His assistant was a pretty, little thing with long, black hair and big blue eyes. She painted her lashes up with thick, black mascara making her eyes appear wider and brighter. Her application stated that she was nineteen years old. Her analytical and deciphering abilities had shown him that she was as smart as a whip and an asset for any firm to have on staff. He was glad that she had chosen his firm. He had mentally taken note on more than one occasion that she had a body to die for with a trim waist and large molded breasts, which she always covered modestly and her legs, he surmised were long and rather shapely.
Today she had worn a light grey, three-quarter length tweed skirt and a white blouse buttoned up to the collar. A golden talisman on a long chain hung from her neck.
She behaved in such a prim and proper way around him, that it only made his desire for her more acute.
He wanted to bury his cock balls-deep inside of her. He was curious to know how easily she would come apart if he fucked her a dozen different ways using all of his bodily resources at once. Fantasy enveloped him for a minute as he envisaged her lying prone on his large, teak desk: her large tits exposed to his view and his eager, groping hands... her long legs wrapped around his waist as he fucked her hard and deep, amid a rainstorm of paper.
"Will that be all Mister Austin?"
Randall was unceremoniously jolted back to reality by the timid voice of his assistant.
He raised his head and looked up at her.
"Yes, thank you Cheryl," he replied, wishing like hell he could translate the words in his head into an oral vocabulary he could use and not get into serious trouble over.
"Damn that sexual harassment act!" he thought gruffly.
"You can finish early today... I'm leaving now," he stated matter-of-factly.
Cheryl watched as he employer exited the office and smiled an almost unnoticeable secret smile.
Randall did not bother to wait for his assistant to answer him.
He grabbed the keys to the RV and headed out the door.
The traffic was flowing well for a Friday afternoon.
Most people were heading home in the opposite direction, meaning Randall could now drive at a constant speed without having to constantly slow down to accommodate annoying female motorists who drove their vehicle with one foot on the break or motorists, who drove slower, unsure of the correct placement of their departure ramp.
He switched the land cruiser's mode to cruise control and relaxed back into his seat.
Randall inserted his favorite CD into his CD player and began to re-fantasize about his secretary. He imagines her sexily sauntering into his office in a different outfit: A low cut, extremely short black dress and wearing black lace-up stiletto heels on those suspected long shapely legs. He imagines her coming over to his side of the desk raising one long leg and placing it over his legs to straddle him, and then pushing her self up backwards, she raises herself onto his desk with her arms and bodyweight and sits facing him with her legs wide open. He imagines seeing her raise the hem of her dress until he views the naked junction of her thighs and her hot wet pussy, which begs, for his fingers and his cock. He imagines her slowly pulling the dress over her head and...
B-E-E-P!
"Fuck!"
He snaps out of his fantasy at the high-pitched sound.
A driver of an approaching automobile has just told him rather rudely that he is now driving on the wrong side of the road.
He swerves quickly back onto his side of the freeway in time to avoid an accident. The male driver of the other vehicle slows down, gives Randall 'the finger', and mouths something as they pass each other.
Randall, at this stage decides to stop his mental misuse of his delectable assistant and to concentrate on driving the car.
He drives for a further 175 minutes listening to the upbeat rock tunes of the early nineties. He finally arrives at the camping ground at Pine Lake about 7:45 that evening.
The atmosphere of his new surrounding environment is lively and abuzz with activity.
There are about three dozen RV's of varying shapes and sizes parked in the oversized gravel car park and their occupants are scurrying around carrying large bundles of different sized objects to and from their vehicles.
The sun is now setting behind the darkening green, grassy escarpment situated just to the west of him and through his slightly ajar door; he feels the cool breeze blow against him liberating him from some of the summer heat.
Randall, as a rule jealously guarded his privacy and solitude with a passion and not being a particularly social type of personality, he did not care to mix with the other campers at all.
He opened up the driver's side door fully and jumped down, his feet landing on hard, dry, grey gravel.
He went around to the back of the land rover and tugged opened up the back and got out his gear. Randall put the rope over his left shoulder first then grabbed his large, slightly heavy, duffle bag, and his dark green, one man tent and slung them over his other shoulder, then grabbed his fishing rod. He closed the RV's back doors with his spare hand and then locked everything up with his remote controlled key lock.
He trudged his way through the popular tourist campsite and into the surrounding scrubland walking adjacent to the lake as he ventured further afar seeking the serenity of complete isolation.
He had a particular spot he liked to stay at and the walk, although about twenty minutes by foot away from any sign of civilization was pleasant enough and at thirty-two years of age, he was still a relatively fit person.
He could hear the nocturnal animals awakening around him as he walked further into the serenity of the bush land.
Earlier in the day, he had heard forecast of a hot but clear moonlit night over this region and just to the east he could see the curvy, bright shape of the full moon appearing over the lake.
He had known Mother Nature to be a malevolent and extirpative bitch at times but just like any woman, she could turn on a dime and present you with an array of visual beauty and serenity, which astounded you.
Randall finally reached the spot he had been walking towards and offloaded all of his burdens onto the ground.
With his hands on his hips, he slowly turned 360 degrees carefully surveying the area. Sensing no apparent danger, he discharged a long breathy sigh.
He was here...at last.
