Camel train

Rose felt queasy. The smell was bad enough but the blasted thing kept rocking from side to side. Geez, it was like being on a 12-meter yacht on a 3-meter swell on the ocean. Ships of the desert? More like a freaky fairground ride. God, just give me conventional transport, thought Rose. Besides, the awful things spat and this one seemed to be overly fond of her. It had followed her around the yard making eyes at her when she was waiting for Bob this morning. She shuddered - disgusting creatures.

Bob looked back at her just as she nearly lost her breakfast. He was grinning like some demented idiot. How could he possibly be having such fun? It was too fucking hot, she was getting sunburned and the bastard biting flies where just unbelievable. Rose thought it probably wasn’t so much the collections of camels that attracted the flies, but the turds that they kept dropping as they lolled along the beach. There were 21 miles of pristine white sand here and these horrible beasts where defecating along its entire length, defiling it. There should be a resort here with Balinese style huts and waiters, not wilderness and undeveloped real estate, then it might look like a real holiday and not some dumb-assed exploration into the middle of friggin’ nowhere. “Shite.” She muttered under her breath as another fly bit her.

Bob was in his element. Broad expanse of raw country and so few inhabitants that you could drop a bomb and not hit anything except a couple of kangaroos and maybe a goanna or three, and they were too tough to eat unless you were really hungry. Rose was looking a bit peaky, he thought, but she never did travel well. She got faint looking at his pick-up truck, though why she did it baffled him. The dog liked it well enough, though Blue had to sit in the tray-back now because Rose didn’t like dog hair on her clothes, though personally he couldn’t see there was a problem, not if you sat on the newspaper anyways. Women, sigh.

The waves were breaking on the shore in time with the hypnotic sway of the camel’s gait. Just as Rose thought she could stand no more and was definitely going to do the unforgivable and throw up in public, they stopped. Camels knelt and everyone dismounted. Rose collapsed in an inelegant heap onto the sand, and glared warily at Myrtle the camel.

“I swear to god I shall never forgive you for this Bob. You are dead meat.”

“Aww honey you know you’re going to have a great time. It’s beautiful out here. Look at it. Turquoise water that’s as warm as a bath, white sand unspoiled by civilisation, blue skies and an ocean so full of magnificent fish that we can’t possibly go hungry. What more could you need?”

“Bob, listen here.” Rose counted off her fingers with emphasis as she listed the shortcomings.

“There are no facilities. I can't use my mobile phone and I have to sleep on the ground in a tent. The transport needs to take more piss stops than I do and there are more damn sheep out here than people. And tomorrow, wait for it, we get to play with worms on the end of a piece of string. How I ever let you talk me into this trek, I will never know. I take one holiday in three years and we come here. Well whoopee-do!”

“It’s a trip of a lifetime Rosie. Just look at the surroundings. It’s unspoiled and natural. Relax and put your business head away and have fun. Here have a beer.”

Rose reluctantly took the can of beer from Bob’s hand. He had at least opened it. Unfortunately, there were no glasses but as she was so thirsty, she distastefully took a tentative sip. The cool amber liquid felt nice sliding over her tongue. She took a bigger swig and found that she actually liked the taste. Meanwhile the camel train team were unloading the supplies and camping equipment and assembling the gear as the tourists recovered on the beach with their cold ale.

Dusk was beginning to settle before the beachside fire was really roaring. Bob took Rose by the hand and lead her further down the beach away from the small crowd.

The sky became darker and cerise streaks of cloud settled low over the Indian Ocean as the burning ball of the sun settled deeper into the horizon. Without the glow of distant city lights the night sky descended into blackness. Bright white stars began to glint in the velvet-covered canopy like diamonds scattered on a De Beers counter top.

“Relax Rose, this will be fun, honest.”

Rose was feeling irritated but the beer was improving her disposition, and it was very pretty here. Bob had tried hard to make it nice. Maybe she should be generous and give him the benefit of the doubt instead of being such a bitch. After all, looking at the water and seeing the fading light flash over the waves like a staircase to the sun was rather spectacular. Work back in the city had been taken care of and besides, the deal she had just sealed would bring in some decent cash for a while… so they sat in silence listening to the waves and the sounds of the night.

The roaring fire was going by the time Rose and Bob got back to the campsite. A heavy looking piece of rectangular cast iron was suspended precariously over the fire with several dozen sausages spiting on the hotplate, scattered amongst slices of kumara and Spanish onions.

Rose closed her eyes and sighed. This was just like camping when she was a kid. All they needed now was for the plate to tip and it would be gritty food for dinner. Oh joy. She could remember it well

She remembered what it was like for her and her brothers on family camping trips. She was the sweet little girl; the boys had all the fun. They could climb the trees and hunt and play rough with their father. She had to stay at camp and make damper bread with mum and help clean the fish when the boys got back.

Someone produced a guitar and began to sing Waltzing Matilda. Rose cringed as some of the tourists joined in the singing. Man, it was so clichéd - they would be singing “Click go the Shears, Boys” next. Rose groaned when they did just that.

Servings of baked beans and barbequed sausages on a bread roll were being dished out and eagerly accepted by the group. Rose thought back longingly to the Szechwan style frogs legs she had eaten last night and remembered how hungry she was and rushed forward to collect her hotdog covered in tomato ketchup…

The head tour guide explained their itinerary for tomorrow and suggested they retire early for the night, as there was an early start in the morning to get them to the reef for the days fishing and snorkelling. Tomorrow night they would be camping further up the coast with barbequed fish and salads from the supply vehicle on the menu.

Full-bellied and more than a little tipsy from the beer, Rose headed for her tent under the cover of darkness. She took a pee behind a sand dune and went and brushed her teeth while paddling in the surf in her underwear. The warm night air was surprisingly soothing and the water did wonders for her aching legs. Several cans of beer had certainly relaxed her muscles but she was dreading the morning and having to get back on that wretched beast again.

Inside the tent, Bob had made the bed up and was waiting eagerly for her to join him. She was such a prickly little thing and exasperated the hell out of him most of the time, but he loved her so he could overlook her foibles. She sold houses for a living and was very good in her cutthroat world. He was a handyman she hired once. Sometimes he wondered what she found attractive about him. Maybe it was because he wouldn’t let her ride roughshod over him or maybe it was just because they had great sex. No point in thinking about it too much, it worked.

She trudged reluctantly up the beach to her tent, cautiously giving the tied camels a wide berth. One made a funny honking noise at her that had her scuttling for cover and safety with Bob.

“Umph! Oh man, Rose, watch where you stick your knee will ya? You nearly did me a mischief there. What’s the rush?”

“One of those bloody camels scared me. Alright? Happy now?”

“Aww poor Rosie, come here.” Bob wrapped his powerful arms around her and pulled her close. Her breasts felt great against his chest and she wriggled closer.

“Hmm, you feel nice Bob. I love your hairy chest.”

She reached down and felt for his balls, found them and squeezed. His inflating cock sprung to attention and almost impaled his belly.

“I love it when you do that Rose.” Her hand moved to encircle his prick and with a firm but determined pressure. She stroked him slowly. She reached for her nipple and led his hand to her tit. It was too dark to see, but the blind exploration somehow made the experience all the more exciting.

She straddled his waist and as she stroked him, she leaned backwards slightly so he could play with her aching breasts.

“Oh Rose, I need to be inside you, baby. You’re so gorgeous and I really want to fuck you, like now.”

Rose smiled to herself, sat up, eased herself down over his cock and watched him curl his toes in anticipation. She felt herself stretch to accommodate him and began to rise and fall in a steady rhythm, giving her thighs a workout. He twisted her nipples and fondled her clit. She pumped him harder. She was so hot; sweat was running down between her breasts and dripping onto his tight nuts. Her butt cheeks thumped down on his pubes. A damp hand was rasping itself over the skin of her back in a slow sensuous massage. Distantly, she heard him moaning and grunting in a very peculiar fashion as he came and tipped her over the edge with him.

The back rub was lovely as she slowly relaxed. Then she heard him laugh. He was collapsed in fits of giggles beneath her.

“Ok what’s so damn funny Bob?

“Rosie, we have a visitor.”

“What the heck are you talking about?”

Rose turned and let out an ear-piercing scream and shot to the back of the tent. Myrtle’s head was poking in through the tent flap. The dumb-assed camel had been licking her back all this time.

Deafening peals of laughter interspersed with a rant worthy of a Naples Docker followed.

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