Dry Fly

I was excited, as the day had finally arrived. A trip I had planned more than a year ago to fly-in for dry fly fishing up a small tributary of the Mackenzie River. I packed my gear into a canvas backpack then had a look at my fly- rod, reel, lines and flies. Everything seemed to be in order, as I took a taxi down to the seaport where I would board a four seater Beaver floatplane.

I stood, and waited for the pilot to do his pre-flight inspection of the aircraft. One of the fly-boys helped to store my gear in the rear hatch while I climbed aboard, and sat in the right, rear seat. I looked at my watch perplexed it was already time to go, and still the plane just idiled tied to the dock. I tapped the pilot on his shoulder, and as he removed his headset he said they were waiting on one last passenger.

I got annoyed, as we waited an additional ten minutes when I saw this young woman, her hair all askew, carrying a duffel bag. She blew her red hair out of her face, as she climbed the steps and sat in front of me. Okay, already let us get going I said to myself, as the pilot started to power up and move away from the dock. In a few minutes the floatplane lifted off the ocean.

Yes, finally we were airborne, and on our way north. The coastal mountains of British Columbia were spectacular, as the pilot flew through several passes. The snow-capped peaks had a dramatic influenece against the evergreens below. The contrast was absolutely spectacular. I pulled my Nikon camera from its case, and began to film the scenery. Then I heard this voice from the seat in front of me. It sounded famaliar, but it surely could not be, but then again, as I listened I was sure I had heard the woman's voice somewhere else, but where.

The flight would normally be about an hour and a half and today the weather was exceptionally good with a tail wind. I was excited to say the least even when the plane experienced a sudden dip as the Beaver aircraft buffeted by the winds rocked side to side. The young lady ahead of me gasped, as we hit a pocket of air and the plane dropped. All in good time I thought a little Karma for holding up the plane earlier.

I looked out the window to see we had began our descent towards the river below. The plane decelerated, the flaps down we touched the rivers surface, and skimmed along until the pilot veered off to the right, and brought the plane alongside the dock.

I waited for the young lady to disembark gather up her gear, and head up to the lodge. Then I got out picked up my gear, thanked the pilot, and began to walk up to the lodge when a young man came to assist me with my pack. I really did not need the help, but what the hell. I offered him a tip as he brought me to the front desk. Just as I gazed about I saw the back end of the young lady from the plane, as she rounded the corner, and walked away. She had sexy, long legs I remarked before my attention was drawn back to the girl behind the counter. I signed in, and was shown my log cabin right on the beach.

I unpacked my gear then sat in the Adirondack chair on the deck, as I surveyed the goings on about the lodge property. The red-haired young lady was in the furthest cabin down the line along the shore. I watched as she strode out in a sheer bikini and walked barefoot throught the sand, laid down her towel, and proceeded to lay down. She wore a large straw hat, and dark sunglasses.

One thing for sure she had an awesome body. She was slender and her skin a milky white with freckles sprinkled across her face, and chest. Her upturned breasts caught my eye especially her hard nipples that protruded through the sheer fabric of her bikini. What was I thinking, I had come here to fish not chase the young women? As a matter of fact sex was not on the agenda that was for another time. This was solely an outdoors adventure a week away from the hustle, and bustle of the daily grind.

Later, as the sun's warmth dissapated she stood, and bent over to retrieve her towel now I was sure I had seen that behind before the more I gazed the more I thought of Rebecca that girl from the cafe last month. No, it could not be her there was absolutely no way. She walked down the beach to her cabin then went inside to dress in something more appropiate for the cool evening air.

That is when I heard the cook's helper ring the metal triangle to call the guests for dinner. I put my novel aside, stood and stretched and then causally walked over to the dinning hall. The scent from the kitchen drew me to a table close by where I could sit and inhale all the many flavors being prepared. Great food and awesome fishing were the two main reasons I kept on coming back to the same lodge, year after year. It was an annual adventure I looked forward to each year to spend a week dry fly-fishing the many tributaries along the river.

I had just finished my thick, juicy steak with baked potato and a delicious pecan and mandarin salad, and wiped my mouth with the white cloth napkin when Natalie came from the kitchen to greet me. She was the best chef on the coast at least in my opinon, and I thanked her once again for a most delicious meal.

Stepping through the entrance into the den I browsed through the book shelves, as I heard the dining room door tinkle then heard that voice again, as the young lady had come to eat. I could hear a fuss, as she certainly did not want steak. Natalie came from the kitchen and said well Miss then just eat the potato, and salad because that is all there is left. If you would come on time like the other guests, and spoke nicely to the staff we would be more willing to accomadate you. I listened for a response and sure enough that voice asked to speak with the manager when Nathalie spoke up, and said she was the owner of the lodge.

I muffled a laugh amused at the goings on in the dining room, as I glanced through the remaining books. Picked up a couple, and headed out the side door back to my cabin for the night.

I lit the propane lantern on the wall and sat in a comfy chair by the woodstove to continue to read the novel I had started earlier. Ten minutes passed when I saw the young lady walk by. She huffed and kicked the sand, as a string of unladylike vocabulary spurted forth. She was obviously still upset after what had happened in the dinning room just a half hour ago. I chuckled, as I watched her march by.

Time for bed I thought after a couple hours of reading for I wanted an early start the next morning. I opened the window by my bed and listened to the crickets and frogs croak, as I fell asleep.

The next morning I awoke at dawn and hurried to the lodge for an early breakfast when Nathalie told me, 'That red-haired woman had beat me to the punch'. She just left here about five minutes ago and said she was going fishing. Well, I'll be I exclaimed, as I sat down to a hearty breakfast of fried eggs, bacon, sausages, toast and a steaming cup of coffee. Nathalie sat opposite me and enjoyed a cup of coffee, as we chatted about the latest news.

I glanced at the time and bid her good day, as I headed outside gathered up my gear and headed for one of the flat bottomed boats tied to the dock. I had expressly mentioned that I would like number five, but when I got there it was gone. Shit, that was my favorite boat. I bet that little red-haired bitch took my boat I said to myself, as I put my gear into the number three boat started the outboard, and headed down river to my favorite fishing pool.

I puttered in close then cut the engine, and let the boat drift along, as I stood and with a flick of my wrist cast the fly just shy of the reeds. It was not but a moment with the first cutthroat struck the line. Several more casts were sucessful then it tapered off. I decided to putter futher down the tributary where I beached the boat, and headed along the bank to my favorite place. A small, deep, dark pool under a rocky overhang. I whistled a tune, as I skirted along the stream's bank when I heard splashing. What the devil was that? I crept closer, and peered through the reeds. Of all the lame brain things... That red-headed young lady stood up to her waist in the pool, and tried to reel in a cutthroat.

That was the last straw I stepped out onto the bank, and in a stern voice said, " That is it young lady get the hell out of my favorite fishing hole". She just turned around and stared at me not believing who had demanded that she get out of the stream. You, she screamed. Damn, I recognized her in a split second she was indeed the young lady from the cafe. She just dropped her rod and came out after me fire burning in her eyes, as she grabbed hold of my vest and flung me into the water. I gasped, and swallowed a mouthful of water. She had gone too far and as she walked away I grabbed her ankle and dragged her back into the pool. I pushed her pretty red head under the water and said take that you bitch.

She sputtered to the surface, as we tusseled back and forth. Soon we were both exhausted by the ordeal and flopped on the bank. Gazing skyward I asked her, " How could you of all people be here in my fishing hole?" That is when Rebecca told me she had been an avid fly-fisherwoman since the age of ten when her dad used to take her on fishing trips throughout British Columbia. It had been a number of years since she had fished this particular river and had arranged a week off from her work, as a remote nurse.

We just lay there soaking wet and laughed ourselves silly at our predicament. She turned to me and we kissed it was just spontaneous and made my heart soar. I helped her up and we gathered our fishing gear then jumped in each of our boats, and headed back to the wharf.

As we disembarked I asked her over after dinner for a nightcap at my cabin. Nothing kinky this time, I promised. Just a sensual evening between two consenting adults.

I heard a knock on the wooden, slated door of my cabin, as I emerged from the bedroom. I took one quick look to see that everything was in its place before I opened the door. My, do you look beautiful this evening was my opening remark, as she stepped through the door. Please have a seat and I will bring you a glass of black currant, Merlot.

On the coffee table was one of those ceramic tea lights with a small bowl above. Rebecca watched, as I snapped several bite sized chunks of dark chocolate into the small cermaic bowl to melt. Next, I brought out a bowl filled with freshly washed BC strawberries and set it down next to the melted chocolate. I picked a strawberry up and dipped it in the melted chocolate then placed the berry on her lower lip, and waited for her to crunch the delicious appetizer. A big beautiful smile lit up her face, as another one was being dipped. She licked her lips, and moved closer her hand resting on my thigh, as I fed her a second strawberry.

She smiled, as she undid my belt then unzipped my black, denim jeans and pulled my cock free then dipped her finger in the melted chocolate, and dribbled it over the tip of my cock. Rebecca looked me in the eyes, as she slowly licked then engulfed the whole pink head of my chocolate cock. I gasped, and laid my head back, as she continued to please me with her tongue and teeth. Every once in a while she would dribble a little more of the melted chocolate over the tip of my pulsating cock then lick the tasty treat.

She stood up suddenly, and raised her dress then sat on top of my chocolate, covered cock and made love to me. Her breasts rose and fell as she moved up and down on my thick shaft. I pulled her blouse over her head, and tossed it aside then unsnapped her bra, and did the same. I leaned forward and took each nipple in turn into my mouth and suckled. My hands caressed each breast, as we made love to the other.

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Author's Note: Rebecca is a character often portrayed in many of my stories. I am drawn to a red-haired Irish lass, as she taunts my memories.

If you enjoyed this story and would like to read more of Rebecca stay tuned.

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