The Redhead

"So what do you have in mind?" he queried. Her response caught him totally by surprise.

"Dick used to play a lot of chess when he was in high school. You know, there might be more than a few adults around who might like to rekindle that interest for a wintertime activity."

"Possibly..." he ventured.

"Well, I'll check around and get back to you if you're game for the idea."

"Why not," he said, hoping not to sound too flippant.

There was the sound of chimes in the background and she was saying goodbye. Then she was gone.

Serendipity; that was what it was. Serendipity. He might get to play chess with the hot little redhead's banker husband. I gotta practice just saying no. Just say no. Oh well. He never heard back.

May 17, 2004

Heading down the deserted bike trail very, very early on a Tuesday morning, Steve was surprised to see a lone biker coming up the path right towards him. He stopped, watching the red pony-tail bobbing in rhythm as the spandex-tight biker approached. It was Charity Kegan.

She had an impish look about her as she pulled up and began by asking what he was doing at, "This ungodly hour of the morning?"

"Actually it's just about the right time for the trico hatch," he responded, pointing at the fly rod attached to the frame of his bike.

And then out of nowhere she asked if she could join him. A momentary look of uncertainty passed over his face. Then good manners took over and he nodded. Walking their bikes down a semi-hidden path to the stream took a few minutes until he pointed to a grassy bank where they could park them. He was quickly in the water while she watched.

To Charity there was something hypnotic about the delicate but athletic grace of the casting. There was an almost sexual rhythm to it, only interrupted by the occasional burst of energy as he brought a trout to his hand. Finally he came back to her and sat down. He explained his strategy briefly, and then paused as she asked him if he would teach her.

"Sure...sometime. Don't forget, though, I've got to be in school by 8:00."

She laughed. "Of course, silly me."

June 3, 2004

It was more than two weeks before he called her. Monica had left with some female friends for a three-day shopping spree in Portland. Julie was at softball camp for the rest of the week. He was going fishing at his favorite local stream. So looking for someone to talk to, he called and invited her along.

They met at the bike trail parking lot. It was 7 o'clock in the evening. She was wearing tan shorts and a matching Orvis shirt... hot. It was the first of many such early morning meetings that summer. Steve began more and more to look forward to them. She was a good learner, athletic and just plain fun to be with. While he admitted to himself how much he was attracted to her, he was resolved to keep it at the "good friends and fishing buddies," stage. For Charity, though, she had to admitt to herself , she had found the "Renaissance Man" of her dreams. Steve was, above all, a good listener. Sensitive and caring he seemed able relate to whatever was on her mind. Be art, books, nature, politics... you name it.

Sept 15, 2004

The Little Timber Times

Local Woman Catches Record Trout

Local fisherwomen sets local trout record! Charity Kegan, a somewhat novice trout fisher caught a monster rainbow on Little Timber last week. "Just pure luck" she said proudly holding her 12 pound rainbow up for pictures. "I think I'm hooked on this sport," she added.

May 19, 2005

It was the end of a tough day in class. The 12th graders were definitely in the final stages of "seniorites" and Steve was already thinking about the Bitteroots in Montana. He was startled as the phone rang. It was Charity.

"I can't understand why you have to go all the way out to Montana to catch a few trout," was saying.

"There bigger out there," he replied laughing. Well not really, but there was something about the mountains he just couldn't stay away from.

"Take me with you," she said and then hung up.

July 13, 2006

Steve was carefully avoiding the potholes as they approached National Forest Service campground. There was a tension in the air pretty much all day. He wasn't sure if it was the weather or the obvious fact that this day was going to begin a new era in their relationship. The clouds were building to the west and he wanted to get his tent pitched before the storm broke. Still.... Well they were just friends, he thought. They had developed a common interest. She was someone to share with. Ah hell. She had simply asked him if she could come along. Just say no. He couldn't. Not to a friend. He knew he was kidding himself

He had the tent up and the air mattress and sleeping bags were laid out. She was in the tent "arranging her things", she had said. He was cinching up the tarp as the first raindrops began blowing in on the wings of a steadily increasing wind. A distant roar grew louder.Then a few large hailstones began falling through the pines. He dove for the shelter of the mountain tent.

"It's a hailstorm. Don't worry, it will be alright."

It was then that he noticed her sheepish grin as she peered at him from deep within two sleeping bags which she had zipped together.

"Char!" he shouted abovw the rapidly increasing din. A crooked finger was all it took for him to crawl in beside her.

She turned and half-straddled him. She began kissing him and when her tongue insinuated itself into his mouth, the sexual feeling that flooded his body seemed overwhelming. While crawling inside with her, he had felt the heat of her naked body. She had been on her back, the pony-tail gone. That beautiful profusion of auburn red hair spread wildly across the pillow.

He pushed back, searching. Her legs were open to him and he brushed the back of his hand against her secret mound. Warm and moist, she lifted her trim hips to his query. Turning his hand, he inserted his index finger into her vagina.

The "little man standing upright in his boat" convinced Steve he need not wait a second longer. Rolling between her legs he felt Charity grasp and guide his engorged member into her waiting sheath. At that instant a bolt of lightning struck nearby with an immediate flash and the crack of thunder. Penetrating to the maximum depth he began plunging wildly as she responded in kind.

The roar of the hailstorm engulfed them so loudly he could barely hear her cries of pleasure. It was a combination of things, really. His left hand cradled the back of her neck lifting her slightly. Transfering vaginal moisture with his right index finger, he carefully began probing her anal opening. Her hand behind his neck drawing him down for a probing kiss; tongues then fencing wildly. Finally her hips locked in an up position against his thrusts. A throbbing at their point of junction. She was squeezing him as he felt himself lose control, squirting repeatedly into the depths of her very being.

July 27, 2006

The Little Timber Times

Local Teacher Attends National Convention

Steve Pressman just returned from a ten-day national science teacher convention in Chicago. "It was great and really rewarding," the veteran teacher reported. "We heard about some amazing programs, had some interesting highlight speakers, and got to test some new materials. Incidentally I drove out and was able to stop and visit some cousins in Wisconsin and even caught a little trout fishing on my way home through Montana.