Fishing Lesson – Part 2 of 2
He launched the boat, parked the truck, and walked back down to the boat. She had climbed into the passenger seat up front, and was waiting patiently. He pulled a beer out of the holder where she had set one, and drained half. He immediately felt just the barest subsiding of the flip flopping his stomach had been doing since he had arrived to find her there. “No, no” he said, “for a 5-pack, you get to start out rowing”. “You’re the teacher” she said, and slid back in between the oars. He shoved the boat out into the gentle current, climbed in and sat behind her in the rear fishing chair. “Now I’m going to sit up here behind you, help you get a feel for the boat while we are in this nice flat, smooth water. I maybe help a little when we go through the rough water in the canyon. Then after that, it’s all you”. She shot a nervous glance over her shoulder “Rough water? I’m serious – I have never rowed a boat before.” He smiled. “Oh nothing like whitewater – just some spots where you want to pull on the right oar at the right time, or you could be dancing with a rock or two. This is a solid fiberglass boat – it’s kissed a lot of rocks and you would hardly know it. I’ll get you through it.” She resumed smiling again, and said “I’m sure you will”.
The next half hour passed easily. They each drank another beer, and he gave brief instructions on the basics of pulling the oars, reading the river, and anticipating how the boat was likely to react. Amber pulled on the oars, under his direction, and had gotten to the point that the boat almost always did what he said it should do. But she was still not anticipating the pull of the river and the reaction of the boat far enough in advance. All new rowers had that problem. Occasionally the boat spun in a crazy circle, or slid backwards through a riffle when they should have been going straight through. As they approached the canyon, partially due to the impending faster water, and partly due to the bravery brought on by the beer, he stood up close behind her and took the oars, his strong, tanned hands firmly over hers. “Should I move?” she asked slightly apprehensively. He smiled down “Hey, you’re getting the full lesson here – I promise I haven’t wrecked a boat or lost a student yet”. His broad smile, and the feel of his hands on top of hers, gave her confidence. She turned back to the river and said “Bring it on”.
As the boat slid into the canyon, the water became faster and a little noisier. But for the most part she was able to turn the boat at the right moments, and keep them more or less headed downstream in full control. As they approached the exit of the canyon however, she hesitated a moment too long at the head of a crucial chute, and the current caught the tail of the boat and swung it sideways, heading directly towards a rock just a few inches under the current. “Right oar forward” he called, gently pushing her hand and the oar forward. But the boat needed further encouragement, and he called “big sweep back, left oar!”, and at the same time gave a long hard pull on the oar. The boat corrected as he wanted, but in his effort to put enough pull on the oar to turn the boat, he leaned her back, and drug his thumb straight up her torso, across her left breast, and square across her nipple. It stiffened under his finger, and he felt her lean back slightly more against his legs. He straightened up, but did not let go of her hands. “I’m so sorry…..” he began, but she was looking up over her shoulder at him with that wry smile on her face. “You know” she said “I almost believe that was an actual accident. But I don’t believe for one second you’re the least bit sorry”. They had entered quieter waters, but neither one was watching the river ahead. He started to blush, and to open his mouth in protest, when she gave a long pull on the right oar, this time guiding his hand, and causing it to drag up and across her other breast and nipple. “We wouldn’t want that side to feel left out” she said in a low voice.
At that moment he let go of the oars, and leaned down to kiss her upturned face. He wrapped one hand under her chin, and threaded his fingers into her long hair with the other. He pulled back with the same strength she had sensed in his hand when he pulled the oars, and a slightly quavering exhalation escaped her lips. He heard the thump of the oars gently banging the side of the boat, indicating she had let them go, and he felt her left hand reach around behind his head. She pulled him closer to her, the intensity of their kissing rising rapidly. He was still standing behind her, and she still sat facing forward on the rowing chair, but the upside down angle made her mouth all the more sensuous. She pulled gently away from him, and said in the same low voice “what do we learn in this part of the lesson?” He slid his hands down to her waist and straight up under her tank top in one movement, filling both hands with her beautiful breasts. “I think” he said “we find out what happens to a drift boat when nobody’s rowing it”. He squatted down behind her, and pulled her down upon his lap. He massaged her breasts and nipples for a moment, and then leaned down and took the right one in his mouth. At the first swirl of his tongue over her nipple, she let out a low moan and arched her back. As he sucked on her breast, he felt her left hand guide his left down to the button on her shorts. To his delight, she ripped the snap open, and thrust his hand inside. Beneath a very sexy pair of black lace panties, he found her incredibly warm and wet. He continued to suck, and worked her pussy juices over her clit with his fingers. She writhed slowly on the rowing seat, her left hand on top of his, and her right guiding his head as he slowly continued to suck her nipple.
He slid his hand out of her opening so suddenly she gasped, and said “ohh, don’t stop”, but it took only an instant for her to realize why he had. “The beer and the rowing has made me a little hungry” he smiled, and spun her around on the rowing seat facing him. He was very glad he had invested in the new seat swivels. “Lay back on the gunwale and watch the scenery go by” he commanded, as she felt her shorts slide down her long legs to the bottom of the boat. She lay to the side, her head on the gunwale, and drew in a sharp breath of air as he pulled his tongue in one long, slow lick from the bottom of her pussy up and over her clit. “Oh my god” she gasped “I didn’t know drift boating was so good…” Her voice trailed off in a low moan as he began to lick, suck, and massage her clit. Her back arched, and he slid his hands under her perfect ass, and pulled her closer to him. His rhythm increased gradually, punctuated by an occasional pause, after which he resumed with a sudden flick of his tongue against her clit. As the moments passed, he felt her passion rising as her breath began to quicken, her back arched harder, pressing herself against his tongue, and her hands wrapped around the back of his head. As she neared orgasm, he tilted his head slightly and looked up, just under his eyebrows, and at the moment they made eye contact, her whole body exploded in a fury of orgasm, spasms wracking her as her legs clenched hard around his head.
As the intensity of the moment began to subside, her legs relaxed, and he raised his head up. She still had her hands around the back of his head, her fingers threaded into his short hair, and she pulled him to her in a delicate kiss. After a moment, he pulled his head back and looked around. Unaware of the passage of time, they had drifted almost a mile downriver, but were still a good mile and a half away from the take-out point. He pulled the anchor rope to drop it, and the boat bumped to a gentle stop mid-stream. He looked back at her, and finally found his voice. “Well, I think you’ve mastered the basics of drift boating. Maybe now we should move on to some fly fishing basics?” He was smiling a wry smile of his own, and suddenly felt the warmth of the evening Montana sun on his back as he had never felt it before.
She placed her hand on his knee, and slid her hand slowly up his thigh, stopping at the button on his shorts. “Let me show you what I already know about handling a rod” she said smiling at the cliché innuendo. As he felt his button unsnap, and her hand slide inside to find him, he knew he would be staying in Wolf Creek just a little longer. He also knew he would be coming back to Montana, sometime, very, very soon. World-class fly fishing, indeed….
This story was written by Professor and edited by Miss Amelia.