This is the first part of a story from the sometimes fertile, always twisted, mind of dollyanne. Dolly will continue if there is any interest. The Fishing Trip by dollyanne I love to fishsame as my dad before me and his dad before him. Its in the genes. My new bride, Tiffany, teases that I even like it better than sex. She says I have minnows in my veins. Not true. Sex is at least a tie, I tell her, and if I had minnows in my veins Id open up a bait shop. She laughs, but fact is, she knows Id dangle my little worm in front of her any day to try to reel in a beauty like her. Theres more to life than fishing you know. Shes the blue-blood, country club, daiquiri-sipping, golden-tanned bikini wearing sunbathe-by-the-pool type. But her daddys richan insurance big-whigand owns half the state of Connecticut. Her trust funds due when she turns 25only a year from nowand, since Im not stupid, she gets what she wants. And what she wants is to be pampered. Roughing it for her is a four-star hotel, down a notch from five. So when Tom called and said the Bass were biting on Lake Travis and lets make a weekend of it, it may sound odd that she was damn near packed before I could hang up the phone. But, fact is, Toms an M.D., gynecologist to be exact, first in his class at Hopkins. Weve been good buddies since grade school and shared everything, including women. He and Tiff dated for a year, but I aced him out with soft poetry and hard stock options in a tech startup. Being an old nerd isnt all bad, you know. Still, he claims half ownership of her. And I dont mind, and certainly Tiff doesnt mind. Were open as a couplewell, half open anyway. She fucks, and Im faithful. Guess that would make me a cuckold if we were married, and we soon will be, and I soon will be tooa cuckold that is, if we continue this way. Anyway, Tom gets the honors. He isnt that much bigger than memaybe an inch and a half or so, all right Ill give him two inches since we measuredbut its an important two inches because she says he touches her in all the right places. Hes got technique you might say. Well he should, hes a gynecologist, and since Tiff is multi-orgasmic, she claims that he sends her to heaven. For Tiff, I guess thats like having the run of a jewelry store on Rodeo Drive. So you can see why a fishing weekend with Tom is good for me and energizes her bunny batteries. I get to fish, she gets to fuck, and then I get her afterwards. Good for her and best of both for me. Not bad for an old guy like me. Except theres a hitch to this blisstheres this game she likes to play. And, of course, I go along. To make sure shes fresh for Tom and I dont spoil the goods, she locks me in a chastity deviceCB-2000 (the 3000 was too tight and chaffing for me)before we go. She thinks its fun. I have to wear it until Tom has his fillliterally. Usually its just a day and a night. Frustrating as hell that first night, cuddled up as I am next to her naked in the double-wide sleeping bag. But then its Katie bar the door as Tom and I share, same as weve done since high school. The teasing and denial up till then just pegs my lust meter to the max. When that happens even I can make her squeal for joy. And, in the woods by the lake where were going she can squeal all she wants. No one to hear but two horny guys and a mighty confused family of squirrels. # After two hours on the road I almost drive my Toyota pickup past the entrance to the place. Its not obvious from the blacktop. Nothing more than a couple of tire-track ruts with foot-high grass growing down the middle like a Mohawk. Doesnt look like anyone has passed through recently. About a half a mile of driving in first gear through an obstacle course of twists and turns, rocks, stumps, and pot-holes, then crossing two small creeks, and putting some nasty scratches on the sides and top of the pickup from the new growth, we pull up to the site. Its in a grove of tall pines, called, appropriately enough, Pine Cove. Theres no sign of Tom yet, but were early. While I unload the pickup, Tiff sashays down to the edge of the lake, about fifty yards, to check out her sunbathing spot. She has to get her priorities straight you know. Meanwhile I set up camp with the tent, our sleeping bags, two large coolers with beer, wine, dogs, and burgers, all the fixins, my fishing tackle, and Coleman stove. I leave Tiffs two trunks full of clothesyes, thats right, TWO trunks. All I have is a duffle bag. My Tiff never travels light. Except shes walking to the lake right now with nothing on but a Wicked Weasel bikinishe loves themand one of my white t-shirts that barely covers her bubble butt. Go figure. In case I forgot to mention, shes 58, ex-model, long legs, and blonde hair down to her butt crack like Lady Godiva. Her hairs not natural thoughits really light brown to match her doe-brown eyesthe blonde is a model thingbut her 36Cs are as soft and sweet as natures own honey. And I should knowIve sampled both. # Everythings set up and still no sign of Tom so we decide to turn in. We lay next to each other in the double sleeper, her in a flimsy pink babydoll nightie designed to turn on Tom, and me in my satin birthday pajamas, and of course, the damned CB. After rubbing her legs and brushing here and there against her I hear her breathing quicken. Its past midnight, Hon, I say. I dont think Toms gonna show tonight. She rolls over and presses her leg against me. No, she said. I guess not. I touch her thigh and gently stroke it, and we soon find ourselves kissing. I try to speak, make that plead, as we kiss. Maybe we shouldwe should Ill get the key, she says, and she slips out of the sleeping bag. Its in my purse in the truck. I watch her as she leaves the tent wearing nothing but the nightie and her flipflops. She looks like a painting framed in the entrance to the tent, Beautiful Girl in Nightie in the Moonlight. Thats when I decide to take the Viagra. Why, you say? Why not? Its not that I need it to get an erectionlord knows thats easy enough with Tiffany. No, I need it for staying power. Otherwise, Im a 30-second wonder. If theres one thing that turns Tiff on its a man with stamina. Well, eat your heart out, Tom. Wonder Boy is here. She pokes her head into the tent. Hon, have you seen my purse? No, I say, frowning. Could it be in one of the trunks? No. Ill bet I left it in the kitchen, she says, on the counter. We stare at each other for a minute. Im sorry, she says finally, and I can tell she means it. Damn, I say. Now what are we going to do? We could cut it off, she says. With what? All Ive gots a hunting knife and a hand ax. No way. Can you slip out of it? Hon Ive tried that. Believe me, I have. Im afraid not. Were stuck then, she says. I mean youre stuck, she corrects herself. I roll onto my back, close my eyes, and try to think of fishcatching fish, scaling fish, cleaning fishanything to get my mind off erections. I took a Viagra, I say, my eyes still closed, focusing on fish. Oh, no, HonIm so sorry. She touches my leg through the sleeping bag and my cock strains and twitches in its cage. She withdraws quickly. Ill get some ice, she says. Instead of cuddling with Tiffany in her nightie, I spend the night cuddling with a bag of ice. The night goes on forever and I dont sleep at all. When dawn breaks, Tiff is still asleep beside me, looking as snug and warm as an innocent angel tucked into in the sleeping bag. Meanwhile, my dick is frozen. I decide to go fishing. Big mistake! If only...but the world if full of if onlys. How could I have known we were camping on the sacred ground of a crazed motorcycle gang? To be continued...?