Sexual Awaening of Farrah

Silas Whale was away on a trout fishing week with his cronies when his wife Jessie took a call from a Mr Raymond. She held the call and came out on to the porch fronting the riverbank and asked her brooding recently divorced daughter, "I'm holding a call. Are you willing to take a four-day charter -- it's a photographer."

"No."

"I've told him it's out of season and he said he'd tip the skipper generously."

"No."

Her mother sighed and muttered something about a lazy, ungrateful bitch and returned inside.

"I'm sorry Mr Raymond but none of the available masters want to come out of their winter hiatus they have just commenced. Oh, just a minute."

Jessie returned to Farrah's side. "He'll tip you $500. Come on, don't be a fool. Added to that is what we'll pay you. You love the river and it's better than brooding on this porch."

"Okay."

"Are you sure?"

"I said yes didn't I?"

Jessie picked up the phone. "My daughter Farrah will take you Mr Raymond. She is recently divorced so is not in a sunny mood at present."

"He'll arrive at 8:00 in the morning. You best take Ibis as it's only just come back from refit and your lazy father hasn't laid her up for winter yet."

"Ibis was the only option."

"God, get off your ass and check her out, fuel and provision her. This is your charter. I'll pack the supplies for you."

"Thanks mom. As you say I need to get off my ass."

The well-muffled diesel was turning over quietly when Jessie walked down on to the jetty ahead of the client in his SUV. "This is my daughter Farrah," Jessie said, as Farrah stepped out of the wheelhouse.

"Farrah, this is Mr Raymond from Alton.

"Jesus," gaped Mr Raymond.

"Hi, get your stuff aboard. I guess there must be a lot as my mother has authorized you to drive on to the jetty."

"Yes, a full range of photographic and digital movie equipment."

"Well unload it over the railing and I'll stow it in one of the cabins."

"Thank you," said Mr Raymond fully eyeing the athletic-looking blonde with the apparent only overweight part of her being on her chest.

The thirty-year-old Farrah thought he looked fit and would only be a couple of years older than she was. But he was a pig looking at her like that, already thinking of fucking her ass or whatever took his fancy. Men ought to be castrated at birth.

Farrah's mother whispered, "I'm sorry darling, I had no idea he was so young."

"Don't worry, just have a quiet word and warn him to keep his distance otherwise I'll jam my rifle barrel up his ass."

"I'll tell him to keep his distance darling or else."

They were almost ready to leave. "You can join me in the wheelhouse," Farrah called. "Better views up here. What do I call you?"

"Ben," he said, stepping into the wheelhouse and immediately noticing the bed. "You sleep here?"

"Yes -- it's actually a self-contained suite, miniaturized."

"So you only have short pees?" he laughed but checked himself when confronted by the icy look.

"Sorry."

"That's okay but remember we have four days of this."

"Yes quite. Was there an alternative captain available?"

"No, you are stuck with me. Keep friendly and keep your distance and we'll get along fine."

"Do I get my own meals?"

"No I'll prepare our meals in the galley and will eat with you in the main cabin if invited."

"You're invited."

"Thank you."

Farrah gave a light toot of the horn. Her mom cast off the lines fore and aft and waved them off.

"Right we are restricted by law to a maximum speed of 5 knots on the forty miles of this river that are navigatable, unbroken by dams, weirs or locks, which I assume is why you wish to photograph and film on this river."

"Yes and because your company is the only licensed operator on this waterway that passes through three great parks and is mostly lined by wilderness."

"But including open spaces."

"Yes, of course -- mouths of streams, marshes."

"And drowned valleys from ice ages, if you know where to look as most dried valleys are hidden."

"Dried valleys?"

"Not being bisected by a waterway?"

"Oh."

"There's coffee over there. Like to pour for two?"

"Yes of course."

"Exactly what do your propose photographing Ben."

"I was going to brief you when I felt... er..."

"That I'd be more receptive?"

"Er that the time was right," he grinned and was met by a grin.

"You have become more interesting Mr Raymond."

He handed Farrah her coffee and his eyes paused on her breasts a mite too long. He looked up to find her looking at him. But he got away with it.

"I'm an freelance nomad photographer by choice but take commercial commissions to maintain my standard of living. I've been commissioned by a government agency to supply it with 200 river land scenic shots with emphasis on soft shots."

"You mean dawn and dusk or during late morning mist?"

"Exactly have you been involved in this before?"

"I am a botanist."

"Jesus."

"Oh, aren't women permitted in your book to be qualified in something not particularly practical?"

"No, oh god no, I don't mean that at all. What I meant was you are perfectly qualified to be my skipper and guide on this expedition."

"Oh Mr Raymond, are you flirting with me?"

He grinned and Farrah relaxed.

Two hours later Farrah wound down the radio aerial.

"Why are you doing that?"

"You'll see, here we go," she said, cutting their speed back to half a knot as they turned into an opening on the riverbank.

"We'll ground."

"Hopefully not because we have a newly painted bottom. Autumn rains have raised the river level to a little above normal.

The 54-foot narrow boat pushed aside the undergrowth and then came into a pool in an open area. Farrah slipped the gearbox into reverse, gunned the motor a little to halt their advance, and cut the motor as soon as the bow nudged into the sandbank.

"We call this Eden. I say with confidence but not authority that since the dawn of civilization very few people have ever been here. My grandfather brought me here on my tenth birthday as his father brought my father when he turned ten."

"How interesting," Ben said, gaping at the high and slender waterfall coming down over a rock face bounded by luxuriant vegetation.

"I must photograph this."

"Only if you swear you never reveal this precise location to anyone."

"I so swear."

"Right, off you go."

When Ben returned on deck with his cameras Farrah warned, "Be careful with your footing if climbing because the rocks are eroded. We are still a nine weeks away from winter solstice so be in position just after 11:00 and you'll catch the sun shafting in here from over there," she said pointing.

"Oh lordy."

Farrah watched Ben for a while and then lay on her bunk reading until she fell asleep. She heard him call out a little later and smiled. A little later was almost 2:30. She jumped up and went out and took some of his heavier gear so he could climb aboard.

"I've had a wonderful time," he crowed, moving towards her and for a moment Farrah thought she was about to be kissed.

"Oh good boy," she said brightly and wiped a bit of mud off his cheek, licking her finger first. She noted he swallowed deeply.

"This river is not tidal of course so we can stay here as long as you wish. I'm off to make late lunch. Jump in the shower and I'll bring you a beer."

Ben looked thoughtful but didn't reply.

She waited until she'd heard the shower going and then took in a beer. He made no effort to cover himself. She said 'Nice body' and handed him the beer, he staring at her. She turned and walked away thinking nice cock too.

"Thanks."

"My pleasure."

She put on Dvorak's Symphony No. 9 on the CD player and poured herself a wine as she assembled chicken salad.

"Oh you drink?" he asked, emerging in just a sweater and trousers and drying his hair.

"Yes, it's one of my vices. Fast cars, fast boats and fast men used to be my other vices."

He laughed and accepted the offer of a glass of wine.

They ate slowly, he identified the New World Symphony and composer and eventually Farrah cleared away and said, "We must move out of here. I wish to arrive at your next major photographic opportunity and be in place, anchored before deer arrive on the river flats with the sunset behind them. They will come right to the confluence so you can photograph them, even film their arrival from the boat showing a stretch of water between them and the camera."

"Oh lordy. Would it spoil things between us if I kissed you?"

"No."

"May I kiss you now?"

"Yes but please don't touch me whenever we are underway because I must remain alert for known sunken logs, the occasional super-size submerged rocks and of course sandbanks."

"Fine, I understand," Ben said, kissing her expertly. Farrah allowed him to receive the impression she was melting in her arms before she pulled away and said that was lovely.

They were now very much on the same wavelength.

Ben took shots until almost complete nightfall, attempting to capture silhouettes and the results were spectacular, taken with Farrah rowing him out in the small rubber dinghy and he using the large-format camera held almost touching the water.

Farrah dropped two stern anchors and then ran up on to a sandbank and Ben rowed upstream against the very slow current to drop two for'ard anchors under spotlight and to Farrah's directions. They hauled the lightweight dinghy aboard.

In the main cabin Ben undressed Farrah slowly, savoring her body as he went. For the first time for almost two years Farrah was really ready for sex, feeling her breasts and pussy swelling. She had sex many times since then but only reluctantly and generally unsatisfying sex, just with guys she knew who were simply focused on getting one or two away. She'd known she had being used like a piece of meat and had also known if you don't use it you lose it. Or so they say. So she was primed to give it to Ben.

She watched Ben dribble saliva from just under her breast, down over her tummy, over her pubic bone and trail on to her fuzzy hair. Oh fuck, her hips felt ready to buck and she felt squishy inside.

He licked the trail of spit and finished with half his tongue up her. Foul or erotic: take you pick. She was in the mood to choose erotic.

He swung around, not losing a lick, to land with his gear over her face. With surprise she found he was shaven, completely. She licked a hairless male asshole for the first time in her life. Until now they'd always been hairy. Ben bucked, almost knocking out a couple of her teeth. He sucked hard into her pussy in retaliation. His suction almost made her eyeballs gyrate. Then she found it was lovely rolling a guy's balls one at the time in her mouth, without ending up having to remove hair from between her teeth.

They ended up fucking loud, varied, acrobatically and messily. She recalled being almost unconscious from exhaustion when they folded into sleep. God, how many times had she come? The most since being gang-banged on her eighteenth birthday she would think.

He hadn't escaped. His face and hair had been soaked in cunt juice and he had bite marks on his dick.

* * *

Farrah docked the barge late afternoon on the fourth day. Her father was home and came down to check out everything.

"Everything's shipshape but it smells like a brothel below," he complained, leaving his daughter wondering how he was able to apply such judgment. She guessed there were other things she didn't know about her father, like him going away on a week's trout fishing expedition and returning home with only one trout that was only just thawed.

She packed her bags while Ben showed her parents his filming and digital still shots. His film shots had yet to be developed by a professional film-processing firm. Her parent's raved about what they saw and her father was astounded at just how good the hidden grotto looked.

"You divulge the whereabouts of our secret place and it will be my sworn duty to knife you until you're dead," he told Ben, who nodded gravely.

They had a merry time together although Farrah's parents were aware this was an end of an era.

After dinner Ben and Farrah said their goodbyes. She and Ben were off to find a publisher who'd commission them to do a series of wilderness text-picture books.

"I can't understand why you are leaving... we have the life you love here," Jessie sobbed.

"Mom, you are a woman, you surely can understand," Farrah soothed, stroking her mother's hair while kissing her cheek and apply their final hug of the evening. "I must go with Ben because it's the way it has always been between man and woman since earliest times. Ben has awakened me sexually."

* * *

FOOTNOTE: Visit your local bookshop and you may find the highly acclaimed series of wildlife books under the names of Ben and Farrah Raymond.

THE END