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While I was Dreaming
Welcome to The Dreamery. There have been a few changes, but my blog is still simply a random series of Thoughts and fantasies, examining my past and my impossible future. Nothing on this blog is a lie. When I say nothing that follows is made up you can be sure it is the truth. Even the dreams are real dreams that I have had . And all the fantasies are my real fantasies.

There are however some questions which may never be answered:
Is it possible to actually laugh your arse off?
How sick is a parrot?
Are sandboys truly happy?
And just how mad is a box of frogs anyway?

And mostly, I do have it all in perspective!
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Posted:Mar 5, 2007 3:02 pm
Last Updated:Apr 20, 2007 3:40 am

Can you make love to a woman with socks on?
It's Mother and Baby Central
Posted:Mar 1, 2007 12:48 pm
Last Updated:Apr 20, 2007 3:34 am
My neighbours, a nice couple, had a baby last year. The mother has stopped working and is being visited by a lot of friends, all seemingly mothers with babies.

This has resulted in a near constant stream of what I believe, in the vernacular, are called “milfs” coming and going from the premises. Some of them are quite good looking and this has made me a little bit horny as I go about my daily working routine!

I caught one of them checking me out yesterday through the front window. Should I feel guilty? Should I nip next door and ask for a few !?

Of course she’s a new mother......unlikely to be single........but she could be........?

Or.......best left well alone do you think, LOL!
Back to Front
Posted:Mar 1, 2007 2:33 am
Last Updated:Mar 8, 2007 9:08 am

To those of you who have already read my previous post, I apologize: I have only just noticed, a paragraph was in the wrong place!

I wrote it in a document and when I cut and pasted to my blog something went wrong and I had to edit it. Obviously I did not check it carefully enough because one paragraph ended up swapped with another, and it didn't make complete sense! I have corrected it now, but you guys didn't notice anyway, LOL. Or did you wonder, but were too polite to say?

How would I fuck you?
Posted:Feb 28, 2007 8:16 am
Last Updated:Nov 17, 2008 2:33 pm

A while ago I had a couple of flirty emails with someone on AdultFriendFinder, and at one point she asked me “How would you fuck me?” Well for various reasons we got off the subject, but I thought, for anyone reading who might be wondering, it would be fun to answer that question. So, forgetting for a moment that every woman is different, and that in reality I would go with the flow, try to read what you wanted from me and just be myself within the moment, here, all other things being equal, and assuming you responded the way I hope you would, is how I would fuck you. Yes YOU.

I would start slowly of course, but I can’t get into that seductive undressing stuff.

You are wearing your dusky pink corset which you bought from Sheer and Sultry. You look fantastic in it, but all the same I would want it off you as quickly as possible! Maybe as you are already down to your underwear I might go for a little bit of tugging at the laces with my teeth, or trying to get my tongue down your panties, but really, I like to get unclothed and into bed as soon as we can. Then there would be that glorious moment as our naked skins first touched; my chest against your breast as I touch my lips to yours, my cock hardening against your hip, my leg between your thighs.

I would revel in the silky touch of your skin against the rough hair of my leg. I would feel the heat from your body against me as your arms slid around my shoulders. I think I would lie there with you for a while, letting my skin tingle with all the sensations running across my nerves and letting your senses come alive. Maybe a light touch of my fingertips against your ribs below your breast, or just under the hair on your neck, maybe a soft brush of my lips against yours, waiting for you to kiss me back.

And when you did, our bodies would press together, and my tongue would slip softly into your mouth and feel the heat of your desire. Before long though, I would want to show you something different, just to make this first encounter of ours seem especially exciting. Have you ever kissed anyone upside down? If not imagine this. You are becoming aroused as we kiss, but then I break off, and slide you down the bed, turning as if in a sixty-nine position, but instead stopping with my eyes level with your chin. Then I bring our lips together in an upside down kiss. It feels completely different, almost like kissing for the very first time, but without the inexperience…..

Our tongues are flat against each other, a completely new sensation, and they caress and probe new corners as we suck on each other’s lips. I break the kiss again, move lower and wrap my lips around your nipple, offering mine to your mouth as I do so. You catch the idea and we lick and nibble at each other, copying our movements, silently telling each other what feels best; how hard, how fast to lick. You probably expect a sixty nine is coming, but I turn to face you again and slide lower to feast my lips between your legs, trying to control my passion. I want you so much I can barely resist the temptation to bury myself hard inside you and come, but I am determined to focus on your pleasure and forget my need, pressing my tongue to your heat. I hear you gasp and from now I begin to lick, slowly at first then harder, lifting you from aroused to frantic. You start to urge me on with moans and little instructions, your hand behind my head and I bring you close to coming, then take a risk. I stop licking you and return to your face to kiss you. You suck greedily at my lips, showing me that you approve, and as you do so, I slide two fingers into you and your back arches and twists in delight.

I bite hard at a nipple and press my thumb to your clitoris, and now I can feel you beginning to come. Your breath is faster and comes in seemingly anguished gasps until at last you go over the edge, squirming and writhing under me. As your orgasm subsides I kiss you all over and run my hands softly over your breasts, appreciating the wonderland of your body. But I am not able to let you rest for long. I kiss you, then lift my head to look at your face. Your eyes are closed, your lips parted to receive my tongue. I draw back and replace it with my cock, sliding it over your tongue and deep into your mouth. Your eyes open in surprise, then you smile and begin to suck and lick. I would become lost in the sensation of your glorious lips and tongue. I feel as if you are sucking my inner feelings into your mouth as if to understand me better.

Your hands would be clasped behind my back, pulling me to your face, but soon, before I lose control, I would try to pull away. At first I imagine you pulling back, laughing, reluctant to let me go, wanting to taste my come in your mouth, but then you realize where I am heading and relent, and I slide lower, kiss you briefly then bury myself in you to the hilt, feeling the wonderful embrace of your quim on my cock. I hear us both gasp together, I know that just for a moment this will feel like the first time; it always surprises me, that. As if I had never felt it before I feel you close all around me, squeezing me as I slide in, and when I pull back and feel that velvet friction I know I can not stay like this for long. I am already close to coming and to prolong the moment I withdraw again, at first to your disappointment, then relief as my tongue once more finds its target and laps stiffly at your clit. You are sensitive from before, but not too sensitive and I soon find your rhythm again, licking you towards another peak.

In the end I can no longer resist, and hooking my hands under your shoulders I thrust my desperate cock back into your depths and fuck you hard. You know I will be coming soon and something in my excitement feeds your desire. I can feel that you will be coming with me. I would stop trying to resist and let you find your own way there, allowing the feelings to carry me away, my mind aware only of my senses, your beautiful body under me, the friction of our movements, the power of the orgasm building up inside me. I would come into you helplessly, feeling as if I was becoming part of you, only dimly aware of the desperate clinging and clawing of your arms as you too are hit by a shattering second orgasm. I would whisper in your ear, gaze into your eyes, kiss gently at your lips, all the time the last few oozing drops of come squeezing out of me, until softening, I would slide off and lie by your side, complete.

That is how I would fuck YOU.
Why do we crave sex?
Posted:Feb 25, 2007 3:51 am
Last Updated:Nov 17, 2008 2:36 pm

So I was thinking, why do we crave sex? I know for some there is the thrill of the chase, conquest, the element of power over another person, and of course there is the effect of the biological imperative; the need to reproduce, (even if in our concious minds we actually try hard to avoid conception.)

Then of course there is the physical feeling, the pure hedonistic pleasure of the senses, all of the senses, which come into play in their various ways during good sex.

But for me all this is superceeded by that strange quality of emotional closeness, that sense of oneness that comes during sex with a partner who really understands you. For a long time I have wondered if that might be one good reason why it has become known as "making love."

Could that explain why that whilst if we allow pure lust to take control, it can be exciting to have sex with a complete stranger, it can become virtually impossible with someone who was once close, but with whom that sense of oneness has been lost? Sex without emotion is much easier with someone to whom we have never had an emotional attachment.

The process of falling in love seems to release hormones which make new sex so much better anyway. It is like a drug; you feel more excited, more alive and have more energy generally. You seem to need less sleep. But when that wears off, can real love take over and maintain the excitement, or are we left craving sex again, but this time with somebody new. What is the best way to make the good feeling last?

Does anyone really know? Any comments?
Sex and Pancakes
Posted:Feb 20, 2007 2:54 am
Last Updated:Aug 7, 2007 10:16 am

If you will allow me to depart from my usual topics of sex and relationships for a moment, I would like to ask a question about pancakes, seeing as it is pancake day today, (shrove Tuesday.)

Actually, before I digress, I would like to announce that I am feeling extremely relaxed and happy this morning because last night I had a sexual experience. Not quite actual sex, but something close to it. And before anyone starts making the usual jokes, (evacuating seamen from the pink submarine; priming the portugese handpump etc. ) let me just add, a woman was involved!

As some of you may know I have not actually had sex for some time. Not, I hasten to add, due to any medical or physical constraints or lack of willingness or ability or desire (or opportunity for that matter) on my part!

Anyway, she was lovely, it was lovely, even I was lovely! Just thought you'd like to know...

But does anyone have any great recipes for pancakes? I thought I might have pancakes later, unfortunately it will have to be at the restaurant as I am going out. But there was a program on the radio with pancake recipes like lemon and ground nutmeg or golden syrup and figs or something, and I thought someone out there, someone like say, for example, taking a wild stab in the dark....romanticlvr...is bound to have the be-all and end-all best ever pancake recipe. Or someone like Kizza would have a wild one like peanut butter and talking cheese or something!

Let's have 'em.
The Unfathomable Stangeness Of Blogging
Posted:Feb 16, 2007 6:58 am
Last Updated:Aug 7, 2007 10:12 am

It's a curious thing blogging. Recently I have posted comic poetry, eulogies to my favourite musicians and emotional out-pourings relating to my past. You guys come and read them....I don't really know who you are, and you don't really know me, and yet we have become friends, I like that.

Sometimes a blog post develops a life of its own and wanders away from the original subject completely - I recently posted the alphabet just to see what would happen and somehow everyone got really into it, that was bizarre! And one of the most interesting posts I have seen lately on another blog was originally a joke, but we all ended up discussing the ramifications (good word that,) of talking cheese. That was odd, but fun.

Where is it all leading I sometimes ask myself. But I never reply. That would be talking to myself, and as we all know that is the first sign of madness. The second is hairs on the palm of your hand. Anyone know what the third sign is?
The Lure of the Limmerick
Posted:Feb 13, 2007 9:29 am
Last Updated:Sep 4, 2007 2:41 am

As I am sure most of you know a limerick is a structured five line usually comic poem, by convention usually starting with "there was a young man/woman from....."

Over the years I have written a few, and recited many, and I was once lucky enough to find a book titled "The Lure of the Limerick" in a second hand shop. Everyone has their favourite, and many are so rude as to be nearly unpublishable by normal means. So what better than to air a few here?

Here are a couple of the best ones I know, the first one being a rare two verse version, departing from the standard first line, and the second obviously coming from an Oxford university pedigree. I wish I knew who wrote them, in my opinion he was a genius, although there is a rather worrying theme to both of them!

(For those who do not know, St.Johns is a college, Dons are the senior lecturing staff, and the Hall Porter is in charge of looking after many aspects of student life. I don't know if a priory called Dunsden St Just actually exists or not! )

A habit obscene and unsavory
Holds the Bishop of wessex in slavery
With maniacal howls
He deflowers young owls,
Which he keeps in an underground aviay.

But, the Prior of Dunsden St.Just
Consumed with erotical lust,
the Bishops prize fowls,
His treasured young owls
And a little green lizard what bust.

There was a young man of St.Johns
Who wanted to bugger the swans
But the loyal hall porter
Said "Sir, take my
Them birds is reserved for the Dons."

My best attempt so far is:

There was a young man of St Ives
Who was rumoured to have seven wives.
But three weren't his own,
One was only on loan
And the fifth was a bloke in disguise!

Can anyone post a classic I have not heard before?!
The Great Falls Ranch Affair, Part 4
Posted:Feb 9, 2007 8:16 am
Last Updated:Feb 14, 2007 1:37 pm

Most of what follows is fiction.

That night I fell in love.

I do not say I began to love her; to me love requires an element of conscious choice, a degree of permanent commitment. Well, perhaps I began to love her a little without knowing it. But falling in love; to me that is a feeling. That feeling of at oneness, of mutual acceptance of the emotion stirred in each by the other, of needing to be together. Sarah and I were certainly at one, in tune with each other’s feelings. The next day I could see her eyes and her hair framing her face in my mind all the time I was fishing. I saw her lips parted to accept me. But when she slipped into my room again that night something electric happened between us. For half the night we touched, our fingers and lips bringing each nerve to life, making them scream for more, then moving on, exploring each others senses, looking for those special places that send exquisite messages of pleasure to the brain.

I found a place on her neck that made her squirm with desire, a nerve which seemed to be connected somehow to her most erotic places. She learned the sensitivity of my hip bones. Her hair fell like a blanket on my stomach as she traced circles on me with her lips, starting a volcanic fire that would burn until my insides seemed to turn to lava and erupt from me into her mouth. She murmured her delight at her power over me. And finally she begged me to touch her where it really counted. Her nipples were hard and incredibly sensitive to my touch. When I twisted them gently in my fingers she arched her back. When I closed my mouth over them she groaned in pleasure, gasping,
“Oh Dreamer, yes!”
When I slipped my finger deep inside her she ground her hips and begged for my thumb on her clitoris. And when I finally pressed it against her and rubbed, she soared into a flight of orgasms, building and building on a series of ever rising plateaux until she crashed down in a heap of feelings and gasps and whispered endearments. She was one of the most beautifully responsive women I have ever made love to, and I gorged myself on her feelings, burying my self in the depths of her emotions.

And in the morning it was time to go home.

I knew I would have to visit again though, and I didn’t think I could wait until the next fishing season! But I didn’t want to invite myself back as Sarah’s lover, and anyway she seemed to want to hide it from her grandfather, so I asked him if there were any free weeks left before the end of the season. I figured I would let her know I was coming and she could arrange to visit if she wanted to, we could take it slowly from there. John’s reply was a bomb shell.
“I ain’t takin no more bookings now for this season, I’m puttin’ the place up for sale.”
“What! Why?” I was astonished. “I thought this place was your life?”
“It has been, but we are too old now; I want to retire, but I can’t afford to if we don’t sell.”
I was stunned. Then a thought hit me.
“How much are you asking?”
He told me and my mind started doing the calculations. If I sold up and moved, there would be quite a lot left over. But that would be ridiculous…..wouldn’t it?
“Does….Sarah have any say in the matter?” I queried.
“You bin talkin’ to her aint cha boy? She don’t talk to me about her life much no more,” said the old man a little sadly. “If I could find a way to let her stay I would, that’s what she wanted, but we don’t have the money.”
“I’m not going to say anything definite now,” I began slowly, “but I’ve always wanted to run a place of my own like this. When I get home I’d like to think about making you an offer.”
“You serious boy?”
“I think so, yes.”
“I’d sure love to sell to a guy like you.”

I sat on the plane thinking it through. What was I thinking? And yet……..But then there was Sarah. Sarah! That’s when it hit me. Guys aren’t the only people who can fish. And a fish is most likely to get hooked if he doesn’t know he’s being fished for.

I smiled and lay back in my seat. Well, I thought, at least I could hope she would wet her hands first, and handle me with care; but I doubted she was going to let me swim away unharmed!
The Great Falls Ranch Affair Part 3
Posted:Feb 8, 2007 1:22 pm
Last Updated:Feb 12, 2007 7:36 am

There is some fiction in this story.

I was almost asleep when I heard the chalet door open. A tall figure was framed in the dim starlight outside the room, but disappeared again as she shut the door behind her.
“It’s just me Dreamer,” she whispered as she sat on the bed next to me. I reached out a hand and it made contact with warm cotton covered flesh. Her upper thigh, I worked out after a while.
“I just……wanted to……talk some more,” she said, covering my hand with hers.
“Okay,” I replied, waiting.
But the talking didn’t come. Instead she lay down alongside me and put her lips against my neck. A tingle ran along my spine. I turned my head a little and began to kiss her. Her tongue was incredibly soft, she kissed like a slow love song, building towards a chorus of licking and sucking on my lip. She sat up for a moment and I heard a rustle of clothing, then her hand lifted the covers and I felt her slide into the bed beside me. Neither of us had anything on, and the warmth of her body radiated across the space between us until at last I could feel her skin on mine, all the way down from my chest to my knees, a glorious warmth flowing through me as if it was running in my veins. I was hardening instantly, but I couldn’t imagine that being an embarrassment, and anyway, she pressed herself against me, and ground her hip all along my length just to show me she could feel it. It was an exquisite sensation.
She was kissing me again, this time with a hunger which suggested there were going to be no half measures tonight. I didn’t know why this was happening, but I felt something for her which was more than just lust for a beautiful woman, so I didn’t question my motives, I just gave in to the moment.
I let my fingers explore her, and as soon as I began to touch her she melted completely, as if surrendering herself to me. I put my hand on her breast, feeling its roundness and weight. Her nipple hardened under the palm of my hand and I flicked my thumb over it bringing a sharp intake of breath from her as a result. I freed both hands and tugged gently at her nipples. She gasped and then sighed a long contented sigh. I traced patterns all over her skin with my lips and my fingers and after a long while I moved as if to lie on top of her. It was then that she took control again.
She pushed me back down onto the bed and threw one leg across my waist. Then she laid her knees either side of me and laughed softly as she rolled a condom down over my straining cock. A moment later she was guiding me into her, lifting her hips and then pressing down on me, gradually feeding me inside. She fucked me, riding me like a cowgirl for what seemed hours; I never come easily in that position but she did, driving herself through several beautiful orgasms, her long hair flying about her face as she gasped and moaned out her ecstasy, until finally exhausted she collapsed on top of me.
“You need to be on top don’t you,” she asked, breathless.
“It’s a physical thing, not control,” I explained.
“I know that.”
She rolled and pulled me onto her, and I slid back inside her in one motion.
“Mmm, come on then,” she teased, and I thrust myself deeply into her, revelling in the sudden feeling that orgasm was near. I slowed, relaxed and felt it building inside me, then groaned as I felt a pulse of semen pump out of me. I let myself imagine I was coming into her, and my mind went blank as the feeling ripped through me. She was gorgeous.

Afterwards we lay silently for a while enjoying the glow.
“I can’t live in the city anymore,” she said at last. “I need to be out here with the sky and the hills and the river.”
She told me about her life in the city, it didn’t sound dull, but her words gave it a soulless quality, one that made it easy to understand why her heart belonged out here at Great Falls.
“I want to come back out here and run this place one day; start -back wildlife safaris to give the families something to do while the guys are out fishing all day!”
I smiled and opened my mouth to object, but she got there first,
“Okay, I know it’s not only guys who can fish,” she said with a grin.
The she was kissing me again and I felt myself starting to want her all over again.

In the morning when I woke she was gone, the whole thing had a dream-like quality to it, and I couldn’t help wondering what had attracted her to me so fast. I wondered if she was a kind of one night conquest type woman. But at breakfast she walked past in her riding gear, looking like a cross between a ranch hand and a beauty queen.
She checked her grandfather wasn’t looking and leaned over to kiss my neck whispering: “Tonight.” Then she walked off towards the stables, hair flowing, hips still swaying.

To be continued.....
The Great Falls Ranch Affair, Part 2
Posted:Feb 6, 2007 1:54 pm
Last Updated:Feb 8, 2007 1:16 pm

I had come to fish, but suddenly something else was on my mind. I thought it over as I lay in my bed in the chalet across the yard. She was unquestionably friendly. She hadn’t actually said much at all, but I have noticed before that something about still night air, the stars and the lack of any of the usual noise of civilisation can have that effect on people in remote country. Mysterious, quiet, but friendly. But that was only to be expected, she was really almost one of my hosts I told myself. Plus she was a lot younger than me; she couldn’t possibly be interested. And even if she was, I wasn’t going to abuse John’s hospitality by trying to get off with his grand-.

I told myself, but I wasn’t completely sure I was listening.

I slept the kind of restful sleep that always comes after a long day on the river, and woke to the sound of chickens bustling about the yard and the sun glancing off the veranda windows at about eight the next morning. I imagine everyone else had been up for hours.

Breakfast was free range eggs and cured bacon with the closest America can get to a proper cup of tea, and I appreciated the effort which had gone into making me feel at home.
“Fish the deeper water down towards the falls today,” John advised as I slung my bag over my shoulder, “It’s going to be hot, they won’t move onto the home shallows until dusk.”

That meant a long walk, but it was good advice and there would be some good pools to try on the way down, and you usually need to make an effort for the best catches.
I had fished most of the way down to the falls and was watching the surface of a deep glassy pool below a fast riffle of water, just the place for a heavy fish in bright sunlight when I heard the sound of hooves behind me. It was Sarah.

She looked like some kind of raven haired Daisy Duke in jeans and a tight check shirt, tied up at the waist, her heavy breasts seemingly trying to break free of the material. A wide brimmed hat shaded her face and I realized she was impossibly beautiful.
“I brought lunch,” she said simply, and without waiting for a reply she dismounted, unbuckled a saddle bag and produced a blanket, a big bottle of water and two long rolls filled with leftover chicken. There didn’t seem to be any question about eating alone. I sat opposite her, leaning against a tree and watched her eat.
“Any fish?” She asked.
“Actually no, not yet,” I admitted. John had been right about the heat.
“You should try below the falls,” she advised.
“But it’s not on your land.”
“I’ll show you,” she said, standing.
She re packed the saddle bag and got back on her .
“Ride with me.”
Well I have ridden before, but I would not call myself a horseman. I summoned every ounce of confidence I had and putting my foot into the empty stirrup, swung my leg over the to sit close behind her.
“Hold on to me,” she said, and before I had time to think about it I slid my arms around her waist and locked my fingers.

We rode away from the river a way, and then down a steep path through woods. I could hear the roar of the falls to our left, and the roar of blood in my ears. The muscles of her stomach worked under my fingers and although I tried I couldn’t stop myself concentrating on the feel of her in my arms. I wasn’t going to mistake her matter of fact offer of a shared ride on back for a signal of anything else though. This is as near as you are going to get, I was thinking to myself, might as well make the most of it, you perve!

We rode on further and the sound of the falls receded until I couldn’t hear it anymore, then the track suddenly swung to the left. There was a tangle of trees and bushes, and there, between two massive rocks was a deep shaded pool.
“We can try here,” she told me as I dismounted. “Just sit and watch the water for a while.”
She spread the blanket again and we sat, backs against the rock.
“Are we poaching here?” I asked, but all I got in response was a shrug of her shoulders and a smile.
“We aren’t fishing yet are we?” she pointed out.
The water slid soundlessly by, and she began to talk. About growing up on the ranch, her grandparents, the city. I listened. She was unhappy in some way I thought, and had chosen me, a stranger, to open up to. That was what this was all about. I felt a strong urge to try to help this beautiful woman in whatever way I could. She took a big gulp from the water bottle and picked idly at the grass between us. Her hand brushed against mine. Was that on purpose?

Suddenly she was still. She leaned towards me.
“See over there beyond that tree,” she whispered, “There’s an elk.”
I looked but I could see nothing. She had leaned close to speak quietly, as if not to frighten the animal, but when I turned to follow her gaze I found her looking straight at me, her lips inches from mine. Her jaw dropped slightly, her lips parted a little and all the muscles in her face relaxed. You can’t mistake that signal. I froze, looking into her eyes, then in ultra slow motion I tilted my head to the side. Her head moved forwards until our lips began to touch, and I lifted my chin to turn it into a kiss. Her tongue flicked between my lips, and I felt as if a bolt of lightening had arced through my chest. She tasted cool and fresh from the water, and I kissed her for a few seconds feeling her desire. Her breast pressed against my arm. I wondered what the hell was happening.

Then I heard the sound of a jeep in the distance. A haze of dust was rising half a mile away down stream alongside the river.
“We shouldn’t be caught here,” she said into my ear, as if someone might hear her. It sent a tingle down my neck that didn’t stop until it reached my toes, passing through all places in between.
Gathering up the blanket she mounted the and beckoned me up. In seconds we were beyond the bend in the river and heading back through the woods to the falls. When we got back to the Ford’s land she put me down from the and cantered away with nothing more than a wave, leaving me the walk back to the ranch on foot. It was dusk by the time I had worked my way back up, but at least the trout were on the shallows by then, and I picked up a couple of good fish before trudging back up the path to the house.

Sarah was sitting on the step as I walked past to go to my chalet and change. Her grand father stood behind her in the doorway. She put a finger to her lips, but her smile told me our encounter wasn’t over.

To be continued......
The Great Falls Ranch Affair
Posted:Feb 5, 2007 1:21 pm
Last Updated:Feb 8, 2007 1:19 pm

Only some of the following story is fiction.

I went there to fish, but it was me that got hooked.

The north fork of the river joins the mainstream just above Great Falls. It is smaller, more intimate than the main river, but there is no shortage of beauty, or of fish. But to my eyes the landscape wasn’t the only beautiful thing on show at the Ford’s ranch.

She rode by at ten thirty on the first morning, leaning back in the saddle as her dark chestnut pony negotiated the stony path down to the river. I looked up from my rod and saw the long dark hair, the full figure, the easy smile. Hmm. Don’t even think like that Dreamer, I told myself, as I imagined some unlikely future conversation.

“Are they rising?” she asked, lengthening her reins to let the drink from the river.
I resisted the line which would have been trying to spring to my lips had she not been so beautiful. Something about how they had been until some great riding idiot plunged into the river and frightened them away.
“Yes, I have had a nice one already,” I said brightly. “But it’s so beautiful here that the fishing almost doesn’t matter, it’s good just to be here!”
“Isn’t it though,” she said, it seemed a little wistfully, and turned the horses head, walking a little way along the track before breaking briefly into a trot, and then a canter. I looked on after her, wondering. Something about her had caught my attention beyond the flash of her dark eyes and the easy grace with which she rode her .

I fished the rest of the day without giving the encounter much thought beyond an idle curiosity as to who she might have been; it was private land, she must be connected to the ranch somehow. The air was hot and dusty, but the river cut a curling oasis of green through the landscape, perfectly reflecting the distant mountains and the sky beyond. At each bend some tree or rock deflected the current making those little runs and pools all river fishermen love. It was a paradise, and I immersed myself in it as much to forget the world as to remember how to catch trout. By the time the sun was edging towards the horizon I had caught six more, and had marvelled at how quick and alert they were in the fast flowing water, each time wetting my hands to cool them and protect the fish’s delicate skin before removing the hooks and watching them skitter away under the bank, perhaps less likely to be caught again. Just like me I thought with a wry smile.

Back at the ranch dinner was a typical wholesome family meal, no pretentious restaurant fare for the Ford’s guests; just simply cooked chicken and sweet potato mash. I thought how well it fitted with the wild natural country and the complete lack of that awful corporate hospitality feel you so often get at organized fishing lodges. And afterwards there was just the sunset and John Ford’s wise old-world drawl to listen to on the porch, while the sky faded to the darkest of blue and the shapes of constellations began to show brighter behind the hills.
“Well,” he pronounced slowly after we had talked fishing for an hour or so, “I’m too old to stay up late and cook you breakfast, I’ll leave you to the stars now.” He pushed himself to his feet, and touching an imaginary cap, hunched off into the house.

I have sat out watching the night sky on fishing trips before, but this was as beautiful as any of them. I leaned back looking up for another long hour just glad to be on earth. There was no moon, but Orion was rising, all the brighter for being alone, and a shooting star almost made me gasp in wonder at its speed across the sky. The sudden voice behind me was so gentle it failed to make me jump despite my surprise. I had thought I was alone.
“Did you have a good day then Mr.____?”
“Ah, yes, yes very good thanks….er…..call me Dreamer,” was all I could think of to say.
I had turned my head as I heard the voice, and saw the same girl I had encountered earlier, leaning easily on the verandah rail behind me. She was tall, not slim, but nicely proportioned, wearing jeans and a high necked sweater. I realized I was getting cold.
“That’s a nice name,” she said quietly while I wondered who she was. “I had a called Dreamer when I was little.”

Her hair was brushed smooth and had lost the wild look it had had earlier, but her eyes looked even darker in the firelight. She was smiling at me, but it didn’t seem as if she was going to say anything else.
“Who are you?” I asked clumsily, suppressing a shiver. The cold air or nerves I wondered.
“Sarah. Sarah Ford. I’m John’s grand-.
She looked about thirty, and I suddenly twigged. John had told me of his ; he and his wife had been killed in an accident twenty years ago, and I had heard vaguely of a grand , they had brought her up from the age of ten but she had gone to live in the city I thought.
She just kept looking at me, a level gaze, the fire flickering in her eyes like the nerves fluttering in my stomach. What the hell was I feeling so nervous for?
“Are you……visiting?” I ventured, feeling like a schoolboy.
“I like to stop by,” she said, and jumped down from the verandah to sit next to me on the bench. She sat an inch too close, just enough for me to wonder, not enough for me to be sure.
“See that faint star next to Orion’s belt?” she said pointing.
“You can’t see that in the city, even from the park. The lights are too bright.”
It was a simple statement, but it told me a lot about Sarah Ford.
“Well goodnight, Dreamer,” she said, suddenly jumping up and walking back up the steps to the house. I watched her; her hips swayed like she was still riding her .

To be continued.........
The Alphabet.
Posted:Feb 2, 2007 4:59 am
Last Updated:Nov 17, 2008 2:24 pm

I just thought I'd post this and see what happens! Somebody will know what I am on about surely!


Happy puzzling!

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