{Disclaimer: All characters in this piece are eighteen or over}
Just a touch-on of sex folks.
Cathy finally got me calmed down enough to talk about the dreams I’d been having. She assured me it was nothing more than stress and that benches in arenas can’t move. That last bit made me feel foolish, I should have put that
realism into my brain a long time back.
Sleep was dreamless after we’d talked but only lasted about, four hours before the sound of water dripping woke me. I groaned out of bed figuring we’d done something wrong in the new bathroom and it had sprung a leak, which was stupid. We were a whole floor up and away, there was no way I would of heard it, the sound was coming from outside my window. What I saw when I looked out was a very good omen, at least to me, and boy I needed one.
During the night old man winter had gotten his ass whooped by lady spring. The roofs of all the outbuildings were bare of snow and the driveway was in danger of becoming a mud pit. If this had happened even one night ago we would have had to forgo our practice with all the antics, and I don’t think the pizza party would have been as magical as it had been. It felt like things were lining up.
Watching the sunrise turn the falling drops of water into a purplish then pink cascade of falling diamonds reminded me of a fishing lure I’d had as a kid, one Cathy had bought me. That put an idea in my head. I crept downstairs to make coffee and a picnic basket, then headed back up. “Hey you. Wake up pretty lady.” Cathy always had a way of waking up that was half sexy, half childlike, and always reinstated how beautiful she was.
“Why aren’t you still sleeping lover?” She looked at the jeans, socks, and sweater I had in my hands. “What’s going on?”
“Shhh. Just get dressed and quietly follow me, we’re going to have some alone time, away from this house.” We made our way down the stairs and out of the kitchen to my garage. I don’t like loud and growling engines on personal vehicles, (okay, yeah, dee’s car was an exception, and sob’s… okay MY personal one :-;) when I started the Riviera it just purred as we slipped out the muddied driveway unnoticed.
“Okay Mr. clandestine. Just where are we going?”
“Fishing.”
She gave me a screwed-up look. “Baby I don’t think the lake has had a chance to unfreeze yet.” That made me laugh.
“I know. But it also hasn’t had a chance to unthaw enough that we can’t go to the ice fishing house.”
“House? Not shack?” That kind of surprised me.
“You’ve never been out there? Ever?” She shrugged her shoulders and
I just laughed. “You’re going to like this place.”
We called it a house for a good reason. Our ice fishing abode had been built under the ruse of a single-car garage-sized shop. Mom had not been keen on the idea that dad had pitched of such a heavy place on the ice, so when grandpa took sick, and she went to tend to him, we already had the frame and sheathing up and in place.
It took about nine days to tighten up.
Having the wrecker gave us the advantage of doing all this, but it also had a disadvantage. If the lake ice wasn’t thick enough, it was a no-go, and some winters the house just wasn’t feasible.
Cathy had been to the south half of the lake; all cottages and sandy beaches. The north half was a horseshoe of cliffs. A bait, boat, and auger renting shack sat just up from the only way to access this part of the lake. We stopped to grab some meal worms while Cathy picked out some lures she thought were ‘cute’ and I got her a license. Getting to the house she was impressed but that quickly faded into a funk for me. “What’s wrong.” Was the door that was bothering me.
“There’s only supposed to be two locks, not three. And I don’t know any of these. Guess dads been here.” It hurt but wasn’t a bowl me over moment.
My wife’s awesome.
“HEY! They rent ice augers. Can’t we just get one and drill a few holes?” Was a solid idea, but despite the warmth of last night’s chinook she was already starting to shiver.
“Nah. We’ll just go find a good spot, and have an in car picnic.” I was disappointed along with her when an A.T.V horn sounded and the clerk from the bait shop dismounted putting a finger gun to his head and pulling the trigger.
“Dude I’m sorry, too much loud metal has fried my brains. We had a few breaks in’s over the winter and your dad came to change up the locks, he left the keys for you, I forgot, sorry.” He tossed the keys and I was happy to see the fob hadn’t changed (Cathy rolled her eyes at it. A huge-breasted nude woman in a lure-covered hat was holding a sign over her pussy that read ‘no tuna here’). “Hey razz, tomorrow night!” He made the metal sign on each hand with his tongue out and sped away.
Cathy made me laugh. “I think we just met Bonnie’s new boy toy.”
I let Cathy in first, not just because a gentleman does that, I also wanted to see her reaction. “NO. FUCKING. WAY.”
The main feature of the house of course was a four-by-four hole cut in the middle of the floor. It was purposely Didim Escort covered with a sheet of one eighth inch plywood, the reason being the ambient temperature from the wood stove sometimes lasted up to a week. It was thick enough that if you misstepped you wouldn’t get soaked, but kept the ice from freezing solid again.
Me and dad had put in a small wood burning stove that came complete with an oven. A sink ran to a holding tank just outside for gray water, and an antique ice box served as a fridge. We had a satellite T.V. that ran off solar charged batteries; they also ran a stereo and the C.b. unit. As far as furniture went, the stove weight and the cells dictated what else was going to be added.
We opted for two brass barred day beds on either side of the hole. They weighed almost two thirds less than that of a standard couch and were almost as long. Cathy might of raised an eyebrow at them but we always covered them in tarps sprayed with a mildew retardant when the place would be alone for a while. The lamps were oil-burning hurricane lamps, some with colored glass chimneys, and even with all of them lit the place still had a fireplace charm to it.
As far as decorations went it was eclectic. Me and pop had spent the entire spring and summer taking a day off to cruise the city on bulk pick up day. Everything was kitsch, from retro ashtrays to some very tacky sculptures. It was all tied together with road signs and tin advertisements like you’d see in an old-time garage. A few choice pin-ups were thrown in for good measure. (we had some arguments on other decor, but the ladies were never one of them.)
Cathy wandered around touching this and that, giggling at some and oh my godding at others while I got the stove up and running. Dad had resupplied the ice box so I grabbed two brews, got one uncapped, then heard Cathy. “Well she’s hot. Nice down blouse on Christmas eve.”
Of all the tape, holding all the centerfolds up, the upper half of the one in the bathroom had given way. She rounded the corner of the bathroom and broke into giggles. “I thought it was Rudolph’s nose that was supposed to be red, not his face and ears.”
She’d found the picture I’d waited hours to capture that eve. All night long her dress had been draping away from her chest giving me wicked peeks at her breasts. But I didn’t dare take a photo, she would of picked me off in a second, until mom and dad moved behind her…
“You totally played me that night.” Apparently, Cathy was a sniper and had just picked her opportune time to pick me off. “Your mom and dad were behind me about to do the mistletoe and YOU motioned for me to bend out of the way.” She pointed at the opened beer. “Mine?”
“Uh, yeah.”
One good swig and I was ironically, considering our location, hauled in more. “What I want to know is how did that picture end up on next year’s Christmas card with me gone and just them kissing?”
I was busted, was no use in fudging the truth. “Well, before I’d even developed it mom wanted it, and yeah, I panicked.”
“I bet.” She had a very unsympathetic but gleeful expression on her face. I turned to go uncap my beer, explaining the rest on the way.
“It took about 20,000 pictures trying to get the damn angle down, and then an equal amount of hours trying to crop the empty couch below mom and dad in while matching the lighting.” Cathy had been moving up slowly behind me the whole explanation. Her arms went around my waist.
“Seems like a lot of time and work just to save a down blouse shot.”
“It wasn’t just your boobs. It was the first time I saw you.”
When I turned her arms went around my neck and she kissed me long and lovingly.
“Yeah, that… was an eye-opening evening. You looked so handsome in your suit,” She put her hand on my cheek. “And perfect hair. How long did that ‘doo’ take to do anyway?” I redid the Rudolph glow and she giggled. “I’m only kidding lover. It wasn’t just how beautiful you’d become that caught me, I know lots of handsome men, your attitude towards some of the women that night just made you a have-to-have.”
“Huh?”
She finished her beer and looked at the ice box. “Got another?”
“Yeah, but…”
“Go fetch and let’s uncover the couches. Okay?”
“Only if you promise to explain, and not laugh.”
I didn’t answer her ‘at what’ in fact the whole promise not to laugh thing was a waste of words. She took one look at the first one and acknowledged it was smart not to have all that wood and cloth in a damp environment. Knowing my aunt, you know that wasn’t the only observation she made. “You could also tie extra lines to the bars, or me. You think fishing line would cut?” Her tongue made a circle around the beer bottle’s mouth before she took a swig.
“I swear lady. Yeah I’m sure of it. But, if your dead set on it I could probably weave a few hundred rolls of toilet paper into a rope.” Got a giggle for that. “Now,” The other tarp was motioned to.
“Shall we?”
Crossing the plywood was old hat to me so I didn’t warn Didim Escort Bayan Cathy about the sag when you got close to the middle of it. She almost ripped the soles off her boots back peddling when it gave a bit. The way she scurried off was comical for about two seconds till I looked at her face, she was panic-stricken; huddled up in a ball. “Whoa! Hey, calm down, what gives?”
“You calm down. I’m terrified of water!” That made no sense. I had some very vivid memories of her in bikinis at the lake and pool.
“Since when? You sure seemed to like swimming before.”
“That wasn’t in freezing, ink black, god knows how deep water that wants to suck me down to the bottom!!” She was so distraught even the idea of a laugh seemed cruel.
“Okay, you are right about the cold and darkness, the lake is deep too, but man, if you parked a boat in the middle of this body of water, then came back in a hundred years? You’d find it right where you left it. The only thing that moves this water is the wind and the fishes swimming in it.” That didn’t seem to quell her fears any, so I told her to wait and removed the other tarp myself.
She gave me a wary look when the plywood started to come off. “We can’t fish through this wife, and we don’t have to fish at all if you don’t want.” She gave me a dirty look.
“Just get on with it smart-ass.” Once it was off Cathy got a very quizzical look on her face. “Where is the water?” I thought that was an extremely odd question seeing as she was looking right at it.
“In the hole. You okay?” There was no answer as crawled hand and knee to the hollow in the floor. “I swear lover it just looks like black glass!” I’d never thought of it before but she was right. If someone didn’t know better they’d probably walk right onto it thinking it was solid.
“Your right. Wanna see what we can pull out from the other side of this looking glass?” She giggled.
“If Mary was here it would be a hookah-smoking channel cat.” That did not seem very far fetched to me (except for the channel part) and I said so before heading off for some pre-hooked rods. On the way back I grabbed a fifth of whiskey and the bag from the tackle shed. “We outta beer?”
“No. But it gets chilly in front of this hole. You know what?”
“Hmmm?”
“I should of grabbed a tight tee instead of a sweater.” Almost got clocked by a tub of maggots. “Go light some lights, it’s getting dark you pervert.”
“Yes mam’, just remember I’m your pervert.” The tub got winged back. The last light was lit and I almost ended up stumbling into the inky drink. There basking in the glow of hurricane lamp light, Cheshire cat smiling, sat my topless aunt. “You can imagine a tee right?”
My tongue clicked. “Those are going to get cold and we are not going to get any fishing done.” The cat smile gave way to an impish tart one.
“And you have a very warm mouth…” She redonned the sweater. “And I’ll behave.” Still not sure if I won or lost that one.
When I sat down all four of the rods had been baited. “I thought you said you never fished?”
“I never said I hadn’t fished. I said I’d never been to this place before. Me and my girl go fly fishing all the time where I live.”
“YOU can fly fish!?”
“Yeah. Can’t you?” I made a duck face.
“Every time I try the line goes back all nice and straight, then comes forward a twisted knot of braid. Maybe you and your girl can teach me.” Don’t worry I caught that one. “FISHING I MEAN!” Cathy found that humorous to no end.
“I’ll teach you, just alone, no girlfriend. I’m married now. My days of bikinis and thigh-high waders during spring break are over.” Yup. Two things caught my attention.
“Okay wait. Fishing in a swimsuit, no problem, seen it before. Thigh-high hip waders? And spring break? Care to share?”
I’d seen Cathy blush enough times before, but this one was deep red to the point I thought her face might burst into flames. “Yeah, uh, well…” She cleared her throat. “Okay I caught you I guess it’s my turn to fess up. Where I live I’m surrounded by four all male post grad schools, so it’s fun to go out and, well, tease a bit when they let out on vacation.”
“Yeah right, a BIT!”
She filled two tumblers halfway passing me one. “You hush up. I didn’t see you complaining when I came through the door on your birthday.” Couldn’t argue that one so I tossed both lines in the water, Cathy followed suit with a grin. “Yeah, I thought so.”
“Okay. But you do not just go to the outdoor world and buy thigh-high fishing boots.”
“Nope…” Cathy’s bobber dipped under the ink and with a whoop, she quite handily brought up a very good-sized perch to the surface. “Is this a keeper? Never caught one before.”
“Yeah lady. That is in fact one of the bigger ones I’ve seen.” Some of her Whiskey ended up in the lake via her nose when she broke up.
“Oh god! That’s exactly what Bonnie said the first time I showed her your picture!” My wife got the quintessential oops look on her face, but got away with it as my float disappeared. Escort Didim I not only got ripped off not being able to grill her on the pic, but also received a good
in your face laugh. What I pulled up not only had no business biting a hook but could have been bullied by a guppy.
“Son of a bitch. At any rate, thigh highs?” She hauled up another keeper. “Really?” Got a shrug and giggle in return.
“I just got them made.”
“Just like that. Happened to have a wader seamstress in your back…
Deidra.”
“You ARE getting good at this decoding stuff!”
“Oh man. You and Deidra out there in bikinis teasing young men. Bet the river wished it could of sold tickets.”
“Or at least the landowners. But nope not Dee, she hates fishing, my friend Liz, whom you will never meet.” She took a good gulp and rebaited her hook. “At least not until I’m sure you know I’m the only one that can rock your world so to speak.”
That should have been just what it was as far as a statement, but it put a question into my head.
‘Is that why she’s been letting all the other women at me? To make sure I know she can’t be touched in bed?’
It got filed under definitely ask later, but I had another question I wanted to ask too.
“So what’s so special about Liz that I can’t be trusted around her?”
“She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life, and I haven’t met one guy that wouldn’t agree.” All I did was go phttt. “Oh yeah?” Her phone came out. “Look.” Liz was definitely a looker, but honestly, she didn’t have anything ‘oh my god’ about her.
“Yeah. She is pretty, but your ten times hotter easy.” Cathy was looking at me totally blank as I handed the phone back.
“Your only saying that because I’m your wife, or you don’t want to go sleeping with the fishes.”
“I’m saying that because it’s true Cathy. Liz is pretty, but you’re beautiful. Like a daisy and a rose.” By the look she gave me I think the day bed would of gotten a good run for its money had her reel not exploded in a hellish whine of line peeling off. We both sat there for a second staring at it.
“FUCKING A!!” That was Cathy, not me. I got the death look of the century when I went for her rod. “Touch it? You’ll be pawless!” No need to repeat that and honestly I’m glad I left her to it. She played that fish, on that tiny ice rig like an expert alternating from drag adjustments to hand spooling, all the way up to damn the lake leaning over the hole to check her line angle. I just about shit when the beast came to the surface, she did. “WHAT THE HELL IS THAT!?”
My aunt had hooked and reeled in a monster Burbout. If you don’t know what that is they look like a cross between a catfish, eel, and snakehead. Some people call them dogfish, poor mans crab, or freshwater cod. They ain’t pretty to look at, and most people just toss them on the ice, which is a mistake. They taste amazing.
One year me and pop came out of the house on a wicked cold day to find the ice littered with them. He shook his head at the mess, “That’s stupid. Those fish are good eating.”
“Yup. Frozen solid too… and no limit.” He grunted before the connotations were picked up on. He got a huge smile on his face.
“Gonna go borrow an A.T.V and wagon.”
“I’ll start gathering.”
One hour later we easily had two hundred pounds of fish. One day later two good-sized freezers full of filets. In a week? A lot of stunned neighbors when we told them the fish they’d been giving accolades to were the same ones they’d been discarding on the ice.
“Well!? What the hell is that thing!?”
“That my wife is the biggest fucking burbout I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a ton. You got a damn record here.”
“Oh.” She reached down with a set of nail clippers to cut the line.
“WHAT THE HELL!!”
“It’s too big to eat and I think still young enough to be able to keep making babies. You know? Sustain the fishery?” She was right, but…
“Yes. Correct. But you are not letting it go before I get a picture of you with it.” I got an oh please look so a bit of reverse psychology was in order. “Okay, it’s heavy I’ll hold it…” Didn’t have to go any further.
“NOT! Just get your phone ready.” The freshwater version of Moby Dick (just black not white) was hefted up and I snapped the picture. Cathy had to bend a bit to hold its weight and caught my smirk at the way her boobs were squeezed by her forearms nicely. “You turn around, and don’t look back till I tell you.”
“Your gonna let the fish go, I don’t need to turn around.”
“Just do it.”
I did, heard the water splash once, then a rustling, the water did another splash and I was told to turn back. She was in the same pose with the same fish and didn’t have a stitch of clothes on. “Thought you might want one for your personal archives.” I still have both pics.
If you look at my desk you’ll just see a frame with Cathy and the fish, if you know about it, you spin the frame on its vertical axis and get an eyeful.
The fish gave a good lurch letting us know paparazzi time was over and it would like to breathe again. So while Cathy started to get back together I let the girl go with a thank you, something I got repaid with by a tail slap of water to the face. Turning found my face to boobs with Cathy in a compromised position.