SadieFox26
Hey
- Joined
- Jul 19, 2026
- Posts
- 32
I picked the perfect day to go fishing alone. Warm sun, blue sky, just enough breeze coming off the water to keep it comfortable. I had on jean shorts, a bikini top underneath my tank, sunglasses, and absolutely nowhere else I needed to be.
For a while, I had my little stretch of shoreline completely to myself.
Then an older gentleman showed up with his fishing gear and settled in a comfortable distance away. He gave me a friendly nod, I returned it, and for several minutes we simply fished.
Eventually came the inevitable question.
“Catching anything?”
“Not enough to brag about.”
He laughed, and that started it.
We talked about the lake, what we were using for bait, the weather, and whose fishing technique was clearly superior.
He was retired, easygoing, respectful, and completely harmless.
After we’d been talking awhile, the afternoon started getting warmer.
I tugged at my tank top.
“This thing has got to go.”
I set my pole down, grabbed the bottom of my tank and pulled it straight over my head, leaving me standing there in my jean shorts and bikini top.
I caught the exact moment he noticed.
There was that tiny pause men sometimes have when their brain temporarily forgets what conversation they were having.
I smiled.
“Better.”
He laughed. “Warm one today.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Very smooth, sir.
I picked up my fishing pole and went right back to casting as though absolutely nothing had happened.
Except now I occasionally caught him sneaking a glance.
At first he’d quickly look away whenever I turned toward him. After a while, though, I decided I didn’t mind. There was something strangely flattering about it. He wasn’t being creepy or pushy. He was simply appreciating the unexpected change in scenery.
So I stopped pretending I hadn’t noticed.
The next time I caught him looking, I smiled.
He smiled back.
And that became our little afternoon rhythm.
Cast.
Talk.
Reel in.
Sneaky glance.
Pretend to concentrate very seriously on fishing.
Eventually I bent down to grab something from my tackle box and heard him say behind me:
“You know, I was planning on fishing farther down the lake today.”
I straightened up and looked over.
“Oh yeah?”
He grinned.
“Glad I changed my mind.”
I laughed and shook my head.
“Keep your eyes on your bobber.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And for some mysterious reason, his fishing spot never moved another inch.
We made plans to fish together again next week. Hope I catch a big one!
For a while, I had my little stretch of shoreline completely to myself.
Then an older gentleman showed up with his fishing gear and settled in a comfortable distance away. He gave me a friendly nod, I returned it, and for several minutes we simply fished.
Eventually came the inevitable question.
“Catching anything?”
“Not enough to brag about.”
He laughed, and that started it.
We talked about the lake, what we were using for bait, the weather, and whose fishing technique was clearly superior.
He was retired, easygoing, respectful, and completely harmless.After we’d been talking awhile, the afternoon started getting warmer.
I tugged at my tank top.
“This thing has got to go.”
I set my pole down, grabbed the bottom of my tank and pulled it straight over my head, leaving me standing there in my jean shorts and bikini top.
I caught the exact moment he noticed.
There was that tiny pause men sometimes have when their brain temporarily forgets what conversation they were having.
I smiled.
“Better.”
He laughed. “Warm one today.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Very smooth, sir.
I picked up my fishing pole and went right back to casting as though absolutely nothing had happened.
Except now I occasionally caught him sneaking a glance.
At first he’d quickly look away whenever I turned toward him. After a while, though, I decided I didn’t mind. There was something strangely flattering about it. He wasn’t being creepy or pushy. He was simply appreciating the unexpected change in scenery.
So I stopped pretending I hadn’t noticed.
The next time I caught him looking, I smiled.
He smiled back.
And that became our little afternoon rhythm.
Cast.
Talk.
Reel in.
Sneaky glance.
Pretend to concentrate very seriously on fishing.
Eventually I bent down to grab something from my tackle box and heard him say behind me:
“You know, I was planning on fishing farther down the lake today.”
I straightened up and looked over.
“Oh yeah?”
He grinned.
“Glad I changed my mind.”
I laughed and shook my head.
“Keep your eyes on your bobber.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And for some mysterious reason, his fishing spot never moved another inch.
We made plans to fish together again next week. Hope I catch a big one!
