Fishing with Jeremy – a #EuphOff entry (matron…)
Once a year we erotica authors get to cast aside the stigma of being simply a ‘saucy’ genre merely for titillation and flex our literary might.
If this is your first visit to my site, well, you are lucky indeed for usually I just write about shagging and that, but this post is something truly special. We as erotic romance authors can’t always be catering to the satisfaction of our lust greedy readers, sometimes we must make time to satisfy our sensitive, emotional side and write from the heart. Welcome, and you’re welcome.
The EuphOff is a lustfully magical celebration of the most euphemistic and terrible erotica on the planet (I actually won it once, I’m prouder of this than my 5th year geography school report card which stated that I have, “Highly polished oral performances”).
The Other Livvy is our most gracious host this year and I beg of you to flick her bean below (matron) and check out the other sumptuous entries (maaatron). It’s the year of the Semi-moist Treat Stick.
As a keen fisher, I avidly watch Jeremy Wade’s show on telly so I thought I’d share a special fishing inspired fantasy.
Fishing with (a different) Jeremy
I was slippery with excitement at the thought of getting my hands on his 1972 original cork-sheathed rod.
His breath was hot against my neck as he steadied the wooden dinghy, and eased me in.
He found a spot in the bay and cast the anchor overboard. His deft thick fingers wrestling with the hook made my mouth water the way a mackerel on the fishmonger’s stand glistens in ice. I saw his manly eel press against the crotch of his waterproof dungarees and had my own stirring in the dark underwater cave between my thighs.
I pushed my knees wide to advertise my flapping gills and watched his eel grow harder, seeming more like a dolphin’s snout.
He let the baited hook drop while picking up the rod. The way he gripped on the glinting shaft made my nipples pucker up like a frightened anemone, or opposite of that.
“Right then,” he said, manoeuvring behind me in the wobbling boat. He reached round and firmly gripped my hand onto his meaty rod. “Are we ready to catch a big one?”
“I’ll say,” I breathed breathlessly.
He dropped the rod dramatically and pulled me into to his Aran jumper, tipping my head up for a kiss. His tongue fished around my mouth, trying to catch a nibble of my own tasty bait.
“Let’s see how you fair below decks,” he said pushing me back and I slipped off the seat landing on my rump, legs akimbo, my naked perch on show for Jeremy to see.
He gazed upon my ready lure, transfixed as I reeled my hips, winding him in until he speared his lips into my cove, diving into my saltwater channel.
His tongue was like a tentacle probing at my mollusc, fingers worked my tight clam until it burst open, my creamy caviar sprayed onto his face and I felt the swell of the ocean between my thighs.
“Oh Jeremy,” I panted, “Slip your fingers between my ventral fins, open my gills and make me breathe underwater with pleasure.”
“Yes, yes,” he cried, shrugging his shoulder straps off and pulling down his rubbery waders until his buoyant tackle bobbed up like a trout at dusk.
Oh how I wanted his barbed end to make rings in my surface like a flyfisher’s cast on a summer’s evening. He was tentative at first, his semi moist treat stick lapping at my tributary.
“Fill me up, with your river monster, Jeremy,” I gasped as he thrust deep, making a whirlpool of my usually tranquil well.
He’d surely need to use the disgorger on me if I netted him deeper into my nether gullet. My waters were eutrophic, my pleasure swelled like a full moon tide crashing out upon him.
He jerked his line taught and reeled hard, spurting his whitebait, stuffing me to the gills until I was a spent stranded jellyfish.
Then the words I longed to hear finally cast from his lips.
“Fish on!”
Glossary
Disgorger: Device for removing hooks embedded deeply in the throats of fish.
Eutrophic: highly fertile waters characterized by warm nutrient rich shallow basins. “shallow basins” *snigger*
Ventral fin: The paired fin on the front of a fish’s abdomen
Words I wish I had used:
Fingerling
Flipping stick
Jerkbait
Lipless crankbait
Spawn
Salty love brine – just spotted in Your Kinky Friend’s Euphoff entry.
Dear Jeremy, if you are reading this, I actually am a genuine fan of yours – I hope you will take this in the spirit of joy and rambunctious exuberance. (I had to apologise to Grace Jones for my last entry…matron…)
For more moist treat sticks – flick Livvy’s bean and pop on over to her place!