It was a typically hot Thursday afternoon, the African sun just hinting at beginning its lazy descent behind the peaks of the Waterberg. Angie, a single lesbian workaholic, was taking her first vacation for three years. She had a slightly stern, but attractive face, and thick shoulder-length hair caught exactly between brown and blonde.
Now, walking slowly along the riverside, listening to the soothing trickle of the stream which wound down from the mountains all around, the rush and noise and traffic of Johannesburg was long forgotten. She came eventually to the thatch-roofed restaurant where she would meet some of the guests for that evening's game drive. She strode confidently into the bar area as the sound of voices, laughter and the clink of glasses engulfed her. Secretly she was uncomfortable being alone, and knew none of the other guests. She couldn't help feeling the eyes on her. She was dressed modestly in a loose brown skirt, tan shirt and sensible shoes, but her figure attracted attention wherever she went -- long, toned legs, a narrow waist and fairly large breasts. It was a fact she used to full advantage in the boardroom, out-fitted in one of her "power-suits". Her business acumen would get her nowhere here though. She glanced around the room of middle-aged Afrikaner men with beer-bellies and plump stern-looking wives trying to manage rambunctious children, and felt even more out of place. One figure stood out however. She was leaning against the bar chatting to the cheerful Xhosa barman with his huge white smile. She wore typical bush attire -- khaki shorts, ankle-boots and a cotton shirt with the reserve's logo on the breast pocket. The masculine-looking outfit couldn't however hide that her figure was all woman. A large rifle hung at her waist. Her long sun-bleached blonde hair was tied up and hung halfway down her back. Her tanned legs were well muscled and she was obviously very strong, although her frame was slight. She couldn't have been more than five foot four, but there was something about her presence that made her seem taller. Taking a deep breath, Angie decided she had nothing to lose and went to sit a seat away from her. Two almost turquoise-blue eyes found hers.
"Hello there..." Angie wasn't entirely sure but she thought the blonde was checking her out for a moment, "I'm Rachel, the ranger for tonight's drive." The beautiful woman extended her hand and Angie took it, pleased at the strong grip, "and that bastard coming up to us now is Adam." A very tall and rather handsome blonde man -- by his attire obviously another ranger -- approached them. Despite her choice of words Rachel had a broad smile on her face. The man reached his hand out, also smiling.
"And who is this lovely young lady?"
"This lovely young lady was about to tell me her name before a certain arrogant asshole decided to butt in." Adam only smiled at the half-hearted insult.
"Angie -- my name's Angie."
* * * * *
"Sshhh!!!" the mother next to Angie hissed at her son, who was engaged in a noisy argument with his sister over a small silver toy car. The large game-drive vehicle, driven by Rachel, was parked at the side of the dirt track they had been following, and Rachel was trying to answer the group's questions about the herd of elephant a few metres from the vehicle.
She looked over her shoulder and fixed the offending boy with an icy stare. He shut up quite quickly. Then she passed her eyes over Angie and looked her up and down openly. Angie wondered if she would be able to see her blushing in the early evening light. "As I was saying," she said pointedly, "The elephant has the longest gestation period of any land animal, 22 months."
There were moans of sympathy from the mothers in the vehicle.