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Welcome back to the new NEFF. Take a break from Twitter and Facebook. You don't go to Dicks for your fly fishing gear, you go to your local fly fishing store. Enjoy!

The Angling Author

Years ago, I took a trip to Norway for some salmon fishing with my then wife. Our marriage was on the rocks, and, on the advice of our counselor, we agreed to a system of rotating requests and favors, to which the other was obliged to agree.

So I asked her to join me on a fly fishing trip to Norway, which I thought might help save our marriage.

Norwegian salmon are every fisherman’s dream.

We arrived in Norway, and the days were long and nights were short. You could cast throughout the evening, and take a short break at dark - which lasted only about an hour or so - and start casting again at morning without leaving streamside.

My wife seemed to enjoy the adventure, but she seemed more interested in the guide than the fishing - a tough, well hung stud whose sexual energy manifested as a massive bulge in his waders, which clearly caught my wife’s attention. She requested a 3some and I agreed, per our counselor’s suggestion, but also because she had been a sport to do the fly fishing thing for me.

It happened after the first night’s fishing.

The salmon were great, and the numbers were great too. Norwegian salmon are much easier to catch than those from New Brunswick. You catch fish after fish. So after catching nearly a dozen salmon, we went home that night to the hotel and I got myself mentally prepared for the 3some.

Now I had been having some performance issues back then, and that was before viagra. So she clarified to me that she actually wanted a twosome, with just her and the guide, with me sitting close by but out of reach, while she talked to me about the experience while it was happening.

I was being cuckolded, in exchange for my dream fishing trip.

I had a sense that this could ruin the marriage, because, when the guide started doing it with my then wife, she started telling me how I wasn’t up to par in the bedroom.

“You see how it’s done?”

She would say that and coo, and it occurred to me that yes, I was being cuckolded and didn’t particularly like it.

But if I put up with it, I thought, I could get another fishing trip.

It was, in actuality, a fair deal.

Not many relationships survive cuckery, but I think the fishing experiences I’ve had over the years more than made up for the hurt of being cucked in the cabin, or even streamside on remote fishing trips.

I requested a trip to Kamchatka, while she was being pounded, doggy style, by the Norwegian guide.

“You see how it’s done?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I’m done with your noodle dick.”

“How about I order some Russian visas, online, while you two finish up there?”

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Our loving marriage lasted for years, with lots of cuckery for her and fishing trips for me to help us work through the hard times.
So what you are telling us is that you are one fucked up dude.

Great way to introduce yourself.

Here's to hoping your first post is your last.

Looks like Beetle folded the magazine too soon. The writer that he always wanted finally showed up.

I like Angling Author's sense of priorities.
Personally, I miss beetle's fly tying videos the most. Especially the ones where his smoke detector batteries are constantly beeping in the background. Priceless beetle...
Personally, I miss beetle's fly tying videos the most. Especially the ones where his smoke detector batteries are constantly beeping in the background. Priceless beetle...
Agree 100%, but I also loved the fishing videos, most notably, King of the Monkeys!
I would vote that it's Beetle also. I hope Joe D charges him an extra 20%
Creepiness surcharge on top of the one I'm sure he charges him for his annual foray flogging the West Branch. I'm sure he noticed Beetle checking out the Bulge in his waders,now he has literary proof!Lol!
If I was a guide I wouldn't let him in the boat, I would take his money ,but I'd have a cheap dinghy I would tow behind the boat and put him in that.You wouldn't have him checking out your bulge, you wouldn't have to endure his creepy liberal chatter,and you could always cut the line and float on and let him fend for himself and report the dinghy as stolen .
I think the stronger fly fishing joke is not that the guy notices a bulge.

I think he hears him pissing in the river and based on the sound of the flow supposes that the guy is pissing at a rate of about 35 CFS.