Montana in Oz Ch. 02

Slightly abrasive young American attorney Montana Reynolds on a year-long posting to the Australian rural town of Red Ridge, was invited into the office of Reginald Day, managing partner of Red Ridge Law for morning coffee.

"Well Montana, your first few weeks with us have run pretty smoothly with no real fuck-ups."

She was becoming used to the direct way of speaking by rural Australians.

"No Reg, I left my fuck-ups behind in Jersey City."

He spluttered into his coffee and said, "Look it is not usual for females here to use the F-word as part of normal conversation; that is normally accepted as a male prerogative but then only in the company of people they are familiar with."

"But I've heard females say 'Fuck off' to stray dogs and people on dope begging for money."

"Yes of course," Reg said. "That is considered entirely accepted. Um the entire thing gets a bit complicated, eh?"

"Agreed. This coffee tastes like camel's piss."

"Um Montana..."

"What?

"Oh never mind. Look you're a woman."

Montana patted her left breast and told Reg he was sharp to have noticed.

"Montana I'll come right out with it; I need your advice," said the 59-year old widower. "I'm developing a touch of lust for Wendy but she doesn't notice me in that way."

Wendy, aged 51, was one of Reg's two partners in the 3-lawyer plus Montana law firm.

"You could try walking around with your zip undone."

Reg looked at Montana sharply and asked was that intelligent feminine advice to be relied upon or stupid humour?

She blushed and muttered stupid humour but said she'd now had switch on to consultant mode, serious consultancy mode.

"Reg if Wendy is getting all she needs from her husband who is four years younger than her and keeps fit cycling 400 km a week, why would she be thinking about sex with you?"

Reg shifted in his chair uncomfortably feeling the pressure.

"You must think I'm nuts thinking like this. God the sight of her butt moving makes me turn light-headed and when she walks hurriedly and I hear the slight noise of her stocking rubbing thigh-high I hear music."

"What?"

"I guess it's similar to what sex-deprived sailors experienced in the days of long voyages in sailing ships and they imagined hearing the siren-serenades of female voices from the sea."

"You are fast becoming an interesting person Reg. I suggest you send Wendy flowers anonymous two or three times and when she asks you who do you think is sending her flowers then confess, but make sure no one else is within earshot."

"No way would she ask me who's sending her flowers."

"Why not? You run this outfit and when a woman can't bear to handle such intrigue any longer her instinct to take her problem to the top for some serious discussion."

"Okay that sounds plausible but what do I say when she hears my confession and calls me a silly old fool or even a dirty old man?"

"You say hear me out Wendy. I'm not a fool but I confess to being lonely. I have a crush on you and need to know is you'd like to have in little fling with me."

"Christ Montana, she'd give me a right roasting and might even knee me in the testicles."

Wendy sighed and said when a guy is gripped by lust he has to bear the consequences.

"Reg don't under-estimate a woman's mind. Wendy told me she's been married fifteen years and it could be at least another fifteen years on top of that since any guy confessed having a crush on her. The impact of that could well trigger romantic notions in her mind or perhaps as you said she might launch a well-aimed knee to your balls. That leaves you to decide is it worth the risk?"

Reg dabbed his forehead with his shirt-sleeve and said, "Thanks for your valuable contribution Montana. Um what flowers do you suggest I send?"

Once that was settled Reg said he'd been impressed by the alertness of Montana's mind and her maturity in dealing with an older person's problem.

"I'm now taking a risk with you Montana. You are required to be at the airport in the morning just before 10:00. A 4-seat Piper Cherokee plastered with the signage Ireland Station will be waiting to take you to 'Mr Greasy'."

"Who?"

"His name in Gino Pappas who is a half-Greek and half Romanian misfit who manages the station (ranch) called Ireland, so-named because its original owners in the carve up of a massive 798,000 station came from Dublin."

"The current absentee owners have numerous telephone call centres in India that are contracted to businesses in many countries. He's in dispute over boundary fence repairs with a neighbour and wanted me to sort out the matter by um skilled negotiation. Therefore so you better swot up Australia boundary law and case law of boundary disputes dealt with by the courts in recent years."

"Okay Reg this sounds interesting but why aren't you off for a day out on a ranch?"

"It will be at least a one-night stay-over. Um I have this project of sending flowers and the consequences on my mind Dakota."

"Montana."

"Oh yeah. Now run along and thanks, you have a great head," Reg said, eyeing her butt as she walked off, swaying it slightly.

* * *

"So you are the cook and yet you pilot this aircraft Mr Wong?"

"Yes Missy. The boss and everyone else calls me Charlie and no one else is game to fly this machine and so I do. I fly you safe."

"Well yes, I see we are already at 12,000 feet and still climbing and so I'm obliged to believe you."

Waiting at the farm landing strip was a swarthy guy in jeans and sleeveless black singlet (tank top) and that and his masculinity stimulated a flutter in Montana's chest.

"Hi and welcome to our outfit Miss. Reg said he was sending you because he had a crisis on his hands to deal with," said Mr Pappas with a foreign but un-American accent.

"Hi Mr Pappas, call me Montana."

"What you are named after your State?"

"No that's New York."

"I-I don't understand," he said as they sat in the Toyota 4WD watching Charlie on an all-terrain 4-wheel farm bike tow the aircraft into a converted barn.

"Don't worry Mr Pappas, few people can't understand why I wasn't named Sally."

"Ah, your father favoured Montana and your mother pushed for Sally?"

"No that was simply a creative option I just thought up."

"Oh I see, but I really don't. Please call me Gino or if you must Mr Greasy."

"Ah how did that come about Gino?"

"The people out here are hard bastards, mainly of English stock and regard people of European ancestry as second-class citizens, German and Japanese people as the pits with Aboriginals unless they are stockmen or good as cooks or nannies or as bed warmer and pushed to the bottom of the heap."

"I really don't..."

"Think of how Americans regard the arrogant English and the illegal midday sleeping Mexicans."

"Oh yes, gotcha."

"You have a lovely body and beautiful face Montana."

"You've been out in the hot sun for too long Gino. I believe I'm here to deal with a boundary fencing dispute?"

"Oh yes, and that too."

Montana was shocked when her mind went into over-drive and she thought she was a victim of a set-up, that Reg Day and Gino had conspired to lure her out into this low-fertility and practically rainless wasteland to allow Gino to saturate his sexual appetite in devouring her pussy for hours on end.

She shuddered in horror, feeling abused, but another part of her appeared gripped in a rising sense of eroticism.

She gritted to herself that she'd kill both men and seconds later was thinking maybe. Well she hadn't had much sex since her arrival at Red Ridge and what meagre amount she'd engaged in she'd had scratch hard for. No way could a girl call Australian men a randy bunch, at least not at Red Ridge.

"Careful darling, don't over-react; it just could be a lifeline thrown your way,"

She'd been given a room with lace-fringe curtains but otherwise it was minimal accommodation that reminded her of Army barracks she'd seen depicted in films.

Gino walked in wearing only a wide-brimmed Akubra (Stetson).

Montana gulped, looking at it; 'it' was flaccid and hung halfway to his knees.

"You'll need to wear one of these even in the pool as the sun is bloody hot out there," he said, handing her a smaller Akubra.

"Come on we'll have a swim to cool off before we move out for the confrontation at High Noon. Oh we swim without clothes to protect the quality of the water as our pool is our little community's fresh water tank."

Montana began to strip fearlessly but he walked off before she'd begun to bare her tits.

What was this; was the almost dashing Gino gay?

She walked outside nude but wearing the jazzy looking Akubra. Obviously it was styled for females. She thought she must look so cute wearing it and at that her nipples began to harden.

Where was the pool? Some directions would have been nice.

Montana went around the side of the sprawling house that had no architectural design merit whatsoever. In fact she thought of it as being a bunch of assorted packing cases thrown together and a wavy tin roof placed over them.

Being intelligent, she figured the water tank would be on the ground near the house with collection pipes running from the roof guttering to empty into it on the day in the year when it rained, or whatever.

She turned at the rear of the house and saw this gigantic concrete tank with a 12-rung ladder propped up against it.

Gino, wet hair plastered over his face handsomely, leant over the concrete rim and shouted, "Move your ass" although he appeared to be gazing at her mobile tits almost in awe.

At the top of the pool there was a small cantilevered landing with a rope ladder dangling from it for swimmer to climb back to the platform.

The pool er domestic water system reservoir appeared half full.

"What is the cubic feet capacity is the pool?" she asked authoritatively.

"Dunno mate, but a sign bolted on to the base says 440,000 gallons capacity."

A low corrugated iron roof had been erected over the pool and overhung it to give some protection from wind-driven dust.

"It's bloody hot under this roof."

"Yank you have a tendency to complain and talk like a bloody Aussie already. Good on yer. Your hat will keep your head cool. Don't drink the water and watch out for water snakes."

Montana was terrified and yelled help.

Gino was chortling and said the snakes were scared of the swimmers and anyway swimmers were not permitted to die in the pool and pollute it.

Montana had a fair idea the bastard was lying.

* * *

They drove 10 miles to the boundary for the meeting. Montana looked at her watch and said they were more than an hour late.

"Nah we run an hour late in these parts as we don't agree with Summer Daylight Saving Time because that's just another trick by the Government to fool the people that whatever it decrees it's for the good of the population. All it does is confused the dogs, hens and sheep and fucks up airline schedules."

Montana almost nodded in agreement, such was her keenness to assimilate with these odd people that populated Red Ridge and district.

Gino said, "Now when we begin negotiations you try to keep Ned and Stella McGinty between us. Never mind the others. And if either Ned or Stella become fractiousness you or I must rush off to grab the shotgun from the rear of this wagon while the other one of us stays and plead with the McGinty's to be reasonable."

"I-I don't know how to use a shotgun."

"It doesn't matter, just hold it by the right end and the right way up. It's not loaded and is merely symbolic that we hold the upper hand. I learned that trick off the Italian Mafia."

Gino and Montana faced 10 McGinty's representing three generations of adults. Ned and Stella were in their early eighties but obviously still ruled the roost.

"Have a piece of sponge with mock cream and passion fruit topping darling."

"Is it laced with poison?"

"No but Gino's slice is."

Gino dropped his piece as if it was red hot and the McGinty clan rolled about laughing.

Montana bit into her piece of cake defiantly and Mrs McGinty said, "Holy smoke you are one tough bitch young lady and we know your conniving tricky Yanks have us upright and convivial Aussies screwed by the asshole before we as much open our mouths."

Montana thought convivial? That wasn't a word she expected to hear in rural Australia. Old Ma McGinty obviously possessed some sort of education.

"Ma'am have you ever heard of range wars?"

"Of course, we have dozens of Westerns in our extensive video library and they show a log of muggins die with a bullet through the throat when at loggerheads over boundary claims."

"That's correct and all for nothing, as they say, because along the way common-sense backed by enforced law wins the day. We could easily solve what we have here amicably by you lot simply agreeing to repair or replace where necessary half of the disputed line of fencing and Gino and his lot undertakes to do that same with the other half of the fence line. Is that a solution?"

"Sounds like it."

"Agreed?"

"Agreed."

Gino?"

"What the fuck; agreed."

"Right guys, Montana smiled. "Where's the beer."

Everyone cheered and Mrs McGinty, driving a rebuilt Model A Ford with Montana seated happily beside her, headed to McGinty's main woolshed where optimistically a beer and banquet had been set up.

Hours later in darkness back in her room and still rather drunk and enjoying a good win in settling a serious dispute, Montana sighed and gave up stroking her clit. She was tired of waiting for Gino to walk in to bang her.

She went to his room, switched on the light and saw the walls were covered with travel posters of Greece and Turkey, super cars, laden banquet tables and exotic breeds of sheep. Those pictures of sheep seemed out of place.

"Huh?" Gino said sitting up, rubbing his eyes.

Revealing an edge of desperation she moaned, "I want to be fucked."

"Huh?" said Gino, looking like a turkey ready to run.

Montana was dismayed, but only a tad, that Gino left it for her to initiate all the love-making moves, um all the build-up of lustful carnal connection. At one stage when he appeared surprisingly inert she though the guy needed a rocket up his ass and substituted a finger for a rocket as none were to hand.

That had encouraging effect, with her reluctant bed-buddy activating and he squeaked in a foreign language that sounded suspiciously like Merci mon cherie.

Gino was fully inflated and it was dribbling.

Montana shivered in fear because she estimated it was almost a foot long and no way could she accommodate all that. She waiting anxiously, but nothing.

Bugger, she thought, using a recently acquired expletive for the first-time. He was expecting her to put it in.

Now she was leaking.

Slowly she inserted six or seven inches and then began rocking on the inert guy who lay as if almost petrified.

Montana thought oh god, perhaps he was gay. She had rolled a condom on him.

Without warning when her untouched nipples felt almost about to fly off the ends of her tits, Gino began to roar, "Uh-huh fucking uh-huh my fucking beauty."

She felt him thicken inside her and he was sweating. He delivered a burst of long hard thrusts and as he cried out something deep inside his throat Montana was carried away by her biggest release in years.

Gino patted her ass and said thanks Milly.

She wondered who the fuck Milly was.

Charlie the cook/pilot called her at 6.00 in the morning.

Montana swept into the kitchen as if she was on fire.

"You appear to thrive on Aussie beer," Charlie said. "You arrived home late afternoon yesterday appearing grossly pissed."

"Aye Charlie, what I thrive on is Aussie beer-plus."

"Me not understand," Charlie frowned.

"Never mind, it's complicated. Where's the boss?"

"He went at 4:00 to help shift sheep. He said to say goodbye and thanks for your excellent and successful negotiation. You know missy we all thought it will take some rockets us the asses to move that McGinty clan. Boss says I'm to fly you back early so you can screw other clients for big fees."

"Oh right and how thoughtful."

* * *

Montana poked her head into Wendy's office and called brightly "Good morning Wendy."

Wendy responded and pointed to the big vase of flowers.

"I have no idea who sent these. It couldn't be you because you probably think I'm such a bitch."

"No I find you okay but perhaps you could loosen up a bit."

"Montana I appear to have a secret admirer and it has me all sexed up and nowhere to go."

"Perhaps you could call your husband home for lunch today?"

"What, oh yeah."

"Wendy I suggest you don't fret about your secret admirer. He'll reveal himself in good time."

"I hope so Montana. It's well over thirty years since any guy has had a crush on me."

Montana went into Reg's office and he gave her a cat's-had-cream smile.

"I've had the first lot of flowers sent and last night just after midnight I phoned and Wendy answered and I delivered a bout of heavy breathing."

"Oh god."

"No it was okay. In fact she whimpered 'Oh god' before I cut the call I made from a public phone box. Anyway something's likely to happen, I feel. Ah Gino called half an hour ago and said you'd performed wonderfully well and settled the dispute to the satisfaction of everyone within minutes due to your confidence and penetrating sweet personality."

"Yeah and that's an accurate report. I found him to be quite dishy but he didn't appear interested in me as um a woman."

"No he wouldn't. You see Gino appears to be quite a decent chap but he has this thing that's earned him the title of Mr Greasy because he disgusts right-thinking people around here. He has this extremely tall Merino ewe that he, ahem..."

"Shafts it?"

"Ah yes and very frequently we understand."

"Does this ewe have a name?"

"Yes Milly, did you see her."

"No thank god. Gino is a dirty fucker."

"Montana."

"What?"

"Oh nothing, just watch the F-word eh?

More Coming