My husband and I have been married for almost two years. I love the man, but we have polar opposite interests. I love to chill on the couch, go to the theater, and drink a bottle of wine. He loves to be outside and work all day, and most of all, to ice fish. I have never gone with him, despite being invited several times. I never understood what would possess a seemingly normal person to wait until it was really cold and run out onto a frozen lake and sit over a hole all day.
But today was his birthday. And since staying in bed all day was not an option (I was informed), I agreed to let him take me ice fishing for the first time for his birthday present. I asked him if I would need to buy anything or get anything, and he said that other than bait, he should have enough equipment for the both of us. I put on my winter jacket and my thick jeans, hoping I was bundled up enough for the cold.
All told, it took us an hour to get to his shack. It was a small blue pup tent, with the floor removed in one half to allow for access to the ice, the other half covered by a thick rug. Inside were two buckets and an assortment of poles and weird flag things that I would later learn were called tip-ups. I sat down on one bucket, while he ran back outside to grab the bait bucket.
Once he came back in, he helped rig up my pole and get me in the water before setting up his own. Slowly, I felt his hand creep up my thigh and rest just below my waist. I smile, knowing now why he brought me out here but not willing to give it up that easy. I shifted over to the side and got out of his reach. I heard a brief chuckle before silence resumed. He got up to head outside, and due to the configuration, I had to stand back up to let him out. As he passed by, his hand reached back and copped a hard feel on his way out. I jumped onto the floored section and looked at him playfully.
He came back shortly, and looked at me to stand up so he could get back. When I sat there quietly, he smirked and walked up to me, pushing the bulge of his jeans onto the tip of my nose as he passed. My tongue darted out to lick his jeans before he pulled himself away and back to his bucket. He noticed and looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "You know, it is my birthday..." His voice trailing off.
I smirk, looking down at the hole, "Yes?"
"And I want a blowjob in this tent."
