Backpacking in Australia part 1

The digital clock on the dashboard of the van read 5:01, which meant that they had been on the road for almost exactly 10 hours as they finally turned off the dusty country road and onto the wide gravel driveway. James steered the camper through the open gate and over a cattle grid, and slowly guided the tyres around the larger rocks while Cass peered out the passenger window at the orange glow of the sun setting over seemingly endless rows of fruit trees. In the back, Tessa remained asleep, as she had been for the last hour, slumped awkwardly across the seat with her mouth somewhat comically ajar. James glanced at her in the rear view mirror and playfully rolled his eyes at Cass, both of them now accustomed to the “unwakeable” sleeping habits of their travelling companion.

The couple had been in Australia for four months now, and the plan was to stay another two at least before returning to the UK. Tessa had joined them three weeks ago, after finishing her university semester in London, and the three of them had been travelling gradually down the east coast of the country in a van they had purchased and split three ways. The next two weeks however would be more practical – Cass had managed to arrange them work picking fruit on a rural property in Queensland, a necessity if they were to fund the continuation of the trip. They had been quite lucky to find the work in many ways, the farm at which they had just arrived only employed 4 pickers per season, and one spot had already been filled when they applied, so they were grateful to have been accepted – despite none of them having any experience with such work.

James brought the van to a halt next to the farmhouse, which was a large, old wooden structure, walls weathered with paint peeling off in sections, verandas on all sides, and a scattering of various bikes and balls across the front lawn. There was no immediate response to their arrival from within the house, and Cass opened her door and stretched her legs gratefully, breathing in the warm summer evening air.

James opened the sliding door to the rear of the van and looked over Tessa half lying slumped, who remained asleep even now. She wore a sandal on her outstretched foot, the other fallen off and now lost somewhere under the seat. A long thin cotton skirt draped down over her legs, showing the contours of her small frame. She wore a plain cream coloured linen blouse, which was damp from the humidity and clung to her breasts underneath. The “carefree” approach to her attire was another nuance of Tessa, which she would explain when teased with a shrug by sating simply that “her mother was French”. Cass preferred to say that it was because Tessa was bloody Tessa. Regardless, James could not recall ever seeing Tessa wearing a bra in the last few weeks, which was not something he was particularly upset about either. Cass was more amused by it than threatened, but she had gently made it clear to her boyfriend that he could look all he wanted but touching should not cross his small brain for a moment. For this reason perhaps, he hesitated slightly as he reached out and gently shook Tessas shoulder, and waited as she began to rouse, quietly enjoying the fact that her small breasts jiggled satisfyingly under her damp shirt as she did so.

TESSA

Tessa opened her eyes but kept perfectly still, dazed for a few moments as she awoke to glow of the fading sun through the open door. The hand on her shoulder belonged to James – Sweet, lovely, awkward James, and yet it had worked its way into her dream for those last few moments where it belonged instead to some unknown person, and that hand was holding her – pinning her down, much to her delight. She clenched her eyes shut for a moment, trying to get back to the dream which was frustratingly now gone forever. Oh what a glorious dream too – she had been being fucked, wonderfully roughly and passionately, by some anonymous man whos face she did not recall, and didn’t really matter anyways. How good it had felt though, three weeks without sex was far too long in her view and her frustrations were silently boiling over inside. Yawning loudly, she half smirked to herself as she reflected that it was lucky she had woken up when she did, as she was only a second or two away from pulling that hand onto her breast, and pressing it down firmly to her body, before of course she realised it belonged to a real person, and James for that matter.

She stretched out her toes and found the missing sandal deep under the passenger seat, and jumped out of the van, taking in the surroundings in the quiet of the summer evening. A few minutes passed in silence and the three wandered a little until over her shoulder the soft hum of an engine pulled her glance down the driveway, were two four wheel drives were making there way up toward the house. The engines grew louder as they approached and finally pulled up in front of the house, a soft cloud of dust enveloping them as they did so. This was the farming family Tessa supposed, probably arriving home from fucking church or something, like the Brady Bunch. She straightened her skirt and leaned against the van with the others as the doors opened and the people and happily barking dogs began to piled out of each.

A man, the farmer it seemed, approached them, a friendly grin flashing across his brown face and head of tangled curls. His arms and hands were dark from the sun, and Tessa noticed that they were particularly thick and muscular from doing whatever it is farmers do all day. He work a pale blue buttoned shirt, though he had not seemed to have bothered making it to top couple of buttons, and faded khaki pants above dusty well worn boots. He introduced himself as Karl, and Tessa noticed his accent was some sort of Australian-German hybrid as he welcomed them to the farm with a rusty voice that, as with most country people, was a few decibels louder than it needed to be. His wife was Claire and she was equally friendly charming and German sounding, though she was a little more softly spoken then her husband, yet just as pleasant and welcoming to the three.

Grinning and half heatedly, Karl apologised for keeping them waiting, explaining they had been collecting their eldest son from the train station. He had been off away… somewhere, for some period of time – Tessa was only half listening and didn’t particularly care. Despite her nap she felt tired and dusty and hot, and she was most interested in a hot shower and perhaps some sort of food to follow – all the formalities of meeting the Brady Bunch were fine but frankly she wanted to hurry up and get it over with.

In addition to the oldest boy who was 17 (and curiously referred to as Flick), there were 3 other children who thankfully were introduced with a quick wave of the hand. A boy, Jacques and a girl, Eloise – twins who looked to be about 15 years old. And finally Erika who was 12 or so and looked to have some terrible affliction which caused her to smile constantly at everything and everyone. They suffered their introductions gracefully and then Karl invited the three to join them in the house, where much to Tessas satisfaction it was revealed that dinner for them all was warming in the oven.

CASS

As they chatted over dinner, Cass began to relax a little from the initial nervousness of meeting strange people, which typically was something that made her anxious. The kids seemed nice and Karl and Clare seemed friendly enough people. There was one more introduction to come as well – the fourth “picker”, another traveller named Otto who had arrived a few days prior. Otto looked older than the typical backpacker, he was in his late 30s at her guess
by the lines on his tanned face. At one point in the evening Cass enquired if accent meant he also shared German heritage, but she was quickly corrected to be informed that he was in fact Austrian. Other than that however, Otto said very little over dinner, responding to questions as he was asked but offering very little more. His close shaven blonde hair was offset by a thick dark brow, and he tended to avoid eye contact unless it was necessary. His skin was weathered and lined near his eyes, but it was evident that he was in shape, his broad powerful shoulders budging beneath the shirt that he was wearing. As they cleared the table, Cass subconsciously sized him up next to Karl – both men were strong and well built, Otto however was naturally taller and broader of the two. Cass could not decide if she was slightly scared of his dark glances, or if she was just curious and interested to understand who he was. Either way he was intriguing on some level, yet to be determined.

After dinner they were shown to their sleeping accommodation, which was external to the house in an old “workers shed”. The facilities were as primitive as they could get, two wooden double bunk beds and a make shift table in the middle of the room. There was no shower in the sleeping quarters but they were shown the bathroom in the lower level of the house that they could use, which was adjacent to the children bedrooms.

Otto chosen one of the top bunks and had set himself up one one the mosquito nets that were offered, and he retreated under the folds to read in silence while the rest of the three moved their bags to respective bunks. James lay on a bunk and was asleep within minutes, still in his clothes, and Cass decided that she would follow his lead and shower in the morning. She was tired and her eyes were becoming heavy. Tessa appeared in the doorway freshly showered, in pyjama shorts and thongs, and in typical fashion a slight shade of her pink nipples was visible hough with a white singlet. Cass closed her eyes as she listened to Tessa getting into bed, yet somehow Tessas snoring began before she drifted off. She was too tired to care tonight and before long everything else faded around her, and she slept.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/axu1ez/backpacking_in_australia_part_1