If you can’t be home bring home with you
My eyes squinted open this morning at day break.
Rays of sunlight pierced through my tent as the sun rose above the horizon, making a grand beginning to its regular journey across the sky.
I was frustrated at first with the shards of light upon me and my face grimaced and winced as I forced one eye open to gather my surrounds.
A small smile instantly formed about my mouth and I gently rubbed my eyes clear to get a better view of a perfectly dry camp.
In my opinion, there is nothing worse than waking up to a wet camp, now don’t get me wrong, some very great things do fair well from being rather moist, but campsites do not fall in this category.
I raised myself from my place of slumber and exited the tent, still squinting and smiling, sunlight covering my entire body. Thoroughly enjoying the sun’s golden warmth I stretched out the last remnants of sleep.
It was in that very moment my senses were struck with the tangy, sweet aroma of oregano.
With my eyes now completely open, my focus is on Benson cooking fish by the fire side and I think to myself,
Just like him to be up preparing me food.
Benson has always had my best interests in mind and always does his upmost best to ensure my safety and to provide me with everything I desire.
He would do anything for me and I would do the same for him, it’s always been this way as far back as I can remember.
In all honesty I do not believe I have ever spent a day without him by my side.
Benson and I were known to each other prior to birth, you see, our parents were very close.
In the year of 1855 both Benson’s father and my own, who were childhood friends, and in that year the tender age of 20, travelled from Britain, as optimistic prospectors, to the goldfields of Australia.
James Kelly and Thomas Nevin two young blokes with high hopes of making their fortune on the great southern land
Terra Australis.
My father , James Kelly, had got word from his much older brother John (or Red as he was known) on how he’d been in luck acquiring his own fortune on the gold fields of the South Australian colony.
Recent political uprisings over mining licenses in the south encouraged our fathers to set up in the New South Wales colony, a decision made purely for their own safety.
It only took a few years, of both men panning, their earnings together to establish themselves in the small town of Adelong, situated in the serenity of the Riverina area in New South Wales about a day and a nights horse ride from Sydney.
Our fathers were both highly skilled in working with wood and constructed a more than modest cottage to fit both men comfortably, and with extra space for the families that each of them planned to raise in the future.
Which is exactly what they did. James and Thomas were skilled, reliable, young lads, neither of them needed extra luck with the females of the species, they easily found local women to wed and by January 1862 my mother and Benson’s mother, both living in the same house, were heavily pregnant and due to drop at any moment.
It was Benson who made his entrance first with me making my arrival 20 days later.
Since the day of my birth we have never been apart.
I can not imagine being anywhere without him.
Coming to the conclusion to leave my homeland was difficult and it forced me to realise that Benson was my Home.
I was ecstatic at his agreement to accompany across the open seas, I think we were both very well aware that we could not survive without each other.
If I had to leave my home, I would be taking the best part about home with me.
My focus intensified on Benson lovingly as I approach the fire.
I studied his handsome facial features, I watched intently as his tongue passed over his lips moistening them ever so slightly.
The sunlight kissed his lips before I could and they glistened so deliciously a deep desire to press my lips against his arose inside me.
The whole essence of the scenario had a romantic Shakespearean air about it.
To divert Benson’s attention from cooking, getting closer I proclaim in my fanciest British accent,
“ Oh my love, thy lips entice me so. Appearing as golden, glistening honey in the sunlight, how I desire to ravish their sweetness.”
I end my performance by taking a knee before him at the fire and staring deeply into his blue eyes with passionate theatrical emotion.
The grin on Benson’s face just before he exclaims,
“YOU BLOODY LARRIKIN!” and bursts into hysterics, is priceless.
He takes me up into his arms playfully placing kisses upon me.
Between laughs and laying kisses on my face, neck and shoulders he replied in his own finest British accent,
“Yes...Yes my lady! Partake in my sweet lips!
Allow your self this indulgence!
I am merely an object for you to quench the thirst of thy desires”
Amongst our flirtatious interactions we meet each other’s gaze and hold it passionately towards each other until Benson takes my face in his warm hand, raises my lips to his and kisses me deeply, waves of emotional magic rush over me feeling the power of his kiss radiating my soul.
Gently he pulls away, hands me the meal he’d prepared, and says, still in his British accent, looking rather impressed with himself,
“Now eat this for stamina my lady, today we embark on an epic adventure”
Word of a fishing adventure catches my full attention,
“Oooh Fishing.... Really Benson?”
I question in my normal accent but with genuine excitement.
Benson nods and takes a bite of his succulent oregano fish in a matter of fact way.
Over a quick breakfast Benson further explains, Mr Rockstar is offering a highly reasonable payment of gold for anyone who brings in 3 Largemouth Bass.
I am immediately interested, fishing is one of the most honest ways to earn a penny. To add it retains less guilt than killing a man that’s for sure.
Both Benson and myself, with only a slight dispute, make the final decision, regarding the top location to hook our bass, is on the Blackwater side Flat Iron lake.
Excitedly I jump up and exclaim,
“Right Let’s Do it “
Bensons eyes glance over me in a questionable manner and I come to the quick realisation that I’m still in my sleep attire.
I understand completely now why Benson is looking at me in that fashion, he grins, his gaze contently fixed upon my semi clothed state and says,
“So you get dressed and we’ll head out as soon as you are ready.”
I give Benson that cheeky grin, the special kind only he knows and flash him the eyes of a woman that wishes to indulge with him in adulterated intimacy, gently coaxing him with my reply,
“I was hoping, being the gentleman that you are, that you would be kind enough to give hand to me in the wardrobe department?”
I say in a perfect performance of my British accent all the while Smiling sweetly and biting my bottom lip seductively
To which Benson smartly replies in his best rendition so far, of his British accent,
“Indeed My Love, I am here to serve only thee”
He then whisks my off my feet and into our sleeping quarters.