Searching For Sasquatch

I punched the numbers into the keypad and the light turned green. I twisted the knob, pushed the door open, and waved good-bye to the taxi driver.

When I walked into the cabin, the last thing I expected to see was an elfin-faced college coed with a blonde bob-cut. She looked to be about five-six. Thin - with just enough in the hips to suggest that she would bear children without difficulty. Her chest was a little heavy for her waist - C-cups (edging towards D) - not quite an hourglass figure - but close. Her eyes were green, with a bit of hazel. Her smile was breathtaking. She had on a pink "Cancer Sucks" T-shirt (which was just tight enough to be distracting) and a pair of cut-off blue jean shorts. The shirt JUST barely hid her midriff. I was immediately curious to see whether she had an innie or an outie. She had a gold helix stud in her left ear, but no other piercings or jewelry that I could see.

"Well, now," I said, "you're definitely the cutest person I've ever shared this place with."

Her eyes widened a little.

"Sorry! That sounded way less creepy in my head," I said quickly.

She giggled softly and said, "No offense taken. You've stayed here before then?"

"Quite a bit, actually," I replied. "I should probably just buy the place. About half the time, I'm here by myself. The rest of the time, there's a hunter or fisherman. They're gone most of the day and sleep most of the night. It's pretty quiet around here most of the time."

"What do you do here?" she asked.

"I'm a writer. This place is so serene and - I don't know - stories just seem to flood out of my head when I'm here."

"What do you write?"

"I... uh... well... I think I've already done a good job of making you uncomfortable with my being here. Let's just say 'fiction'."

"Okay, so now you've GOT to tell me."

"Only if you promise to tell me, honestly, if this is gonna be a problem. I'll change my reservation and come back later."

"Seriously, you're making it worse," she said, looking straight into my eyes.

"Erotic fiction."

"Err... what?"

"Stories about sex."

"Okay..." she said, laughing a little. "Are you any good?"

I liked her laugh almost more than her cute lips... nose... face... body... shit.

"Uh... well," I finally stammered, "I guess you'd have to ask my readers."

"That's fair," she said, smiling.

"So... not to completely redirect this conversation but, why are you here?"

She bit her lip and looked at her feet, scuffing a toe on the floor. Adorableness overkill achieved. I hope my cock isn't as hard as I think it is.

"I'm... uh... well," she said. "You'll laugh..."

"Now it's my turn to say 'seriously'," I said, chuckling.

She giggled.

Fuck. I should just turn around and leave now. How long was her reservation for?

"I'm looking for evidence of sasquatch activity," she admitted.

"That's cool," I said, quite honestly.

"You don't think that's weird?!"

"Not if you don't. You don't seem simple to me."

"Thanks?" she said, quirking an eyebrow at me.

"Sorry, that didn't come out quite the way I meant," I said.

"So... me looking for a fictional character doesn't bother you?"

"I write about fictional characters all the time. I think you have a much better chance of finding Sasquatch than I do of one of my characters coming to life."

"I guess."

"Honestly... Shit! I don't even know your name."

"Sophie. Most of my friends call me Kitt."

"What should I call you?" I asked.

"Kitt is fine."

"Thanks. I'm Ben. Well - Benjamin - but you can call me anytime."

She laughed.

"Sorry, that was lame. Didn't mean that to be awkward either."

"It's not. I thought it was funny. How many readers do you have?"

"You were supposed to conveniently forget about that..."

"Mission failed," she informed me, sweetly. "How many?"

"I've only ever posted on a website devoted to erotica... so I'm not sure how scientific you'd say the results are."

"That sounds very analytical..."

"Yeah, well, I used to be a computer programmer. So, unfortunately, I analyze everything."

"Okay, Mr. Analytics, how likely am I to find evidence of a sasquatch around here."

"A much safer area of conversation for me. Hopefully, you'll completely forget about our previous topic. And... I just said that out loud..."

She laughed again and said, "We'll get back to erotica... sasquatch?"

"Honestly, I'd say 50/50. Some shit happens around here that I don't think is wildlife."

"You don't consider Sasquatch to be wildlife?"

"Definitely not. Everything I've read - which isn't much - so don't take what I say as any sort of confirmation or lack thereof - but everything I've read suggests that this... I hate to say creature... being?... is somewhere between Neanderthal man and us."

"See? That's what I'm saying. He's smart enough not to be found."

"Exactly," I agreed. "So, what are your plans?"

"I plan to find a couple of your stories, read them, and see if they're any good," she said, grinning broadly.

"Oh, God," I moaned, putting my hand over my face to hide my embarrassment.

She laughed, and said, "I don't know. Look for tracks and other signs. Maybe do the 'apples for rabbits' trade. I finished my Associates last month and dad offered me a vacation for the summer. Everybody else heads to the beach. Me? I'm in Canada looking for Sasquatch."

"I respect your enthusiasm," I said, chuckling.

"But you think I'm weird?"

"Weird is NOT what I think of when I look at you... and... now I sound creepy again."

She laughed and said, "Will you relax? I'm not uncomfortable if you're not."

"Me? Uncomfortable? Hardly. This is the most conversation I've ever had with anybody I've shared this cabin with - and - I assure you that this is far more delightful than anything else I could be spending my time doing."

"Anything?" she said, worrying her lower lip.

"Okay. Now I'M uncomfortable..." I moaned.

She started belly laughing. Finally, she asked, "Am I going to be in one of your stories?"

"Cute flirtatious lip-biters are already a pretty big go-to for me... I could throw your name in, if you're looking for a little more of a clue that the character is you though."

She was laughing again. She said, "I thought you wrote fiction."

"It's fiction to everybody else," I replied, smiling genuinely. Spying some things on the bed in the right bedroom, I asked, "You have the room on the right?"

She dried the tears from her eyes and said, "Yeah."

I began moving my backpack and duffle bag to the bedroom on the left. I usually took the right - but it really didn't matter.

When I returned to the living room, I said, "I don't really leave the cabin much - but - if you want - I can show you a couple spots where I've seen some stuff that you might want to look at. These would be from a year or two ago - but it might give you a start."

"That'd be awesome!" she said, happily. "I was gonna heat up a can of beef stew. I have enough for two. If you want, I'll make you dinner and then we can check them out."

"That sounds fine, what should I do to help?"

"You'll be helping me by showing me around. I've got dinner. Just do what you usually do when you're here."

Twenty minutes later, Sophie called me away from my laptop to join her at the two-person table. I hit 'save' on the story, closed the cover, and went to join her.

"You writing one of your stories?" she asked.

"Yeah," I said, grinning sheepishly, guessing the next question - and assuming how she was going to respond to my answer.

"About...?"

"Two strangers meeting in a cabin..."

"Guy and a girl?" she asked, grinning back.

"College coed and an older guy..."

"Anything happen so far?"

"They're really just getting to know each other..." I said.

"Right," she said. "The girl?"

"Cute, blonde, named Sophie."

She laughed. I REALLY liked her laugh. I was already plotting more ways to hear it, often.

"Where do you think this story's going to go?" she asked.

"Hard to say..."

"'HARD' hmm..." she said, biting that lip again.

"Oh, God..."

She was laughing again. She was laughing hard enough that her tits jiggled. I'm fucked.

"Ben?"

"I'm sorry."

She laughed and said, "Why do you always assume you're in trouble?"

"Because I probably am. I'm fairly sure I'm completely transparent to you."

"Just because I see you noticing my chest as I laugh doesn't mean that I don't appreciate the idea of my body being appreciated. It also doesn't diminish the fact that I intentionally wiggled my breasts as I laughed - just to see if you'd notice."

I looked at her eyes; she was staring straight back at me - no judgment apparent there.

I cleared my throat and said, "Let's eat while the food is warm and maybe return to this conversation later. This is escalating far more quickly than I think it should."

"You don't want things to escalate?"

"That's not what I'm saying. I'm here for two weeks."

"Same."

"We have some time to... let's say... explore our feelings... or POSSIBLE feelings. Two weeks is a long time to put up with each other if one or both of us start feeling things aren't going like they'd want."

"You don't want to explore...?"

"Sophie, I'm a horny old goat. I spend half my time up here, jerking off to my own stories. You're kind of playing with fire."

"Maybe I want..."

I held up my hand and said, "Let's eat and then we'll go on a romantic hike to see Sasquatch stuff..."

"You know all the things to say to me..." she said, giggling.

I grabbed my fork and started eating. The alternative was to cup her breast and thumb the stiff little bump that was showing through the thin material of her shirt. I really needed to focus my brain on something else...

"This gravy is amazing!" I said, smirking.

She snort-laughed and said, "Old family recipe."

"You come from a long line of Dinty Moores, do you?"

God, I loved her laugh - and her jiggling breasts. I'm in so much trouble!

"Eyes up here, old man," she said.

Her chastisement was a little too flirtatious, but I was willing to let it pass.

"Thanks for the bread and butter," I said. "I don't think I've had that since..."

"Mom?"

"Yeah."

"Mine too."

"Passed?"

"Two years ago - just after I left for college."

My eyes went to her shirt.

She nodded, her eyes suddenly misting.

"I'm sorry. That sucks."

"My last words to her were spoken in anger."

"Shit!"

"Yeah. I can never fix it. I stand at her grave and just weep - and scream my apologies to the sky."

"I realize you don't need a creepy old pervert to say this but let me know if you need a hug."

"Let's eat and go for that walk. Maybe you could hold my hand?"

"That won't be a problem for me as long as you don't ask what I'm thinking about when my pants start tenting."

She sob-snort-cough-laughed.

I jumped up and hurried to the kitchen counter to grab the box of Kleenexes that was always there. I handed her the box.

"Thanks. Sorry!" she gushed.

"Do not apologize to me about that. I'm sorry I steered conversation to a bad subject."

"You didn't. I did - when I made bread and butter."

"Can I have a hug?" I asked.

"As long as you don't notice my stiff nipples rubbing against your chest..."

"I promise not to complain," I assured her.

I stood and opened my arms to a beautiful young woman that I hardly knew - and then held her as she bawled her eyes out.

When she was down to intermittent gasping sighs - as her body recovered from the intensity of her sobs - I told her, "Your mom wants you to know that you are forgiven."

"I'm not sure that's how that works, but thank you," she replied, drying her eyes.

She rolled onto her tip-toes to give me a quick peck on the lips.

I gave her a little squeeze and then released her - ignoring the intensity with which she was fixating on my lips. I returned to my seat - before I ripped her clothes off (which is what was coming after the longing-kiss that almost happened). I started eating again. After a moment of looking at me, she retook her seat as well.

"I'm sleeping in your bed tonight," she informed me.

"That's a horrible idea," I told her.

"You don't have to touch me."

"I won't be able to stop myself."

"I promise to like it."

"I promise to hate myself."

"I promise to make it worth your while."

"I should leave."

"Not before you cum inside me."

"This isn't good."

"It WILL be."

"You don't know the Pandora's Box you're prying the lid off of," I told her.

"Will it bother you if I call you 'Daddy' while you're pounding your cock into me?"

The food fell off of my fork as it stopped - halfway between my plate and my mouth.

Her look, as she giggled, was just guilty enough to tell me that she wasn't kidding. Honestly, though, my cock was just about hard enough to reach all the way across - underneath the table - to bump her knees - so I'm pretty sure my body didn't care.

I looked straight into her eyes - meeting her where she was - and said, "No."

She looked a little relieved - and more than a little horny - as she said, "Good."

I went back to my food.

"I was thinking about this story you're writing," she said, after taking a few bites of her food.

"Yeah?"

"I've got a couple ideas for you."

"Okay?"

"I think the old guy should sit in a chair, at the end of the bed and watch the college girl masturbate until he gets so fucking horny that he rips his clothes off, jumps on top of her, and fucks her until she passes out."

"I'll have to be really graphic as I describe all of the details to the readers. It'll take quite some time to really get those descriptions done well enough that they'll feel like they're really there, seeing it..."

"Smelling it...?"

"Hearing it..."

"And then you'll need to make sure you describe the feeling - you know - as he slams his stiff, massive..."

"Massive?"

"From what I've seen..."

"It's not..."

"... as he slams his stiff, massive cock into her willing twat - slick with her pre-cum from fingering herself as she stares at his tented pants - imagining what it's going to feel like to have that beast inside of her. Pounding her into the mattress. Again. And again. Until she cums so hard she blacks out."

My mind was distracted, thinking about how quickly I needed to get this scene into the computer. I barely heard her next words.

"Do not move until I tell you to," she said.

She slid her chair back, and ducked under the table. I heard her knees on the floor and then felt hands on my fly. It took her a few seconds, but she got it open.

"Lift up," she ordered.

I raised myself enough for her to drop my pants (and briefs) to my ankles.

"Scoot forward."

The table was low. She could not get the access she needed (and that I very much wanted her to have) until I moved forward in my seat. I slid the chair back and scooted my ass forward until my cock and balls were spilling over the edge of the seat. It was not the most comfortable position to hold but...

"Oh! God!" I gasped as the heat of her mouth surrounded the head of my sex.

I heard her snicker - and felt her lips, tongue, and throat rumble - as the head of my cock slid through her mouth, across her tongue, and entered her esophagus. Her hand massaged my balls - which now rested against her chin. She swallowed and sucked at the same time. I moaned - no - groaned. When she did it again, my cock bucked in her mouth and my balls started dumping my load down her willing, hot, tight, amazing throat.

My fingers were white as I gripped the top of the table. She swallowed again - not because she needed to (because my seed was blasting straight into her stomach) - but just to suction the rest of the jizz from my body.

When the blasts of spunk ended, she pulled off, sucked the head - running her tongue around the knob to grab any stray droplets - and then the heat of her mouth was gone - replaced by the chilly air of the room - underscoring the absence of her confining hold on me just seconds before.

She climbed back into her seat and scooted back up to the table.

"Thanks. I enjoyed the dessert - so rich and creamy," she said, lustily, smacking her lips.

"I can't remember the last time I came that hard! I think I need a nap."

"You promised me a date first, remember," she said, standing to clear away the dishes.

I rose from the chair, bent to retrieve my errant clothing, and stood up to put them back into their places. I discovered a voluptuous, sweet-smelling young woman in my arms.

"Thanks for that hug, earlier. I needed that."

"Yeah, well, thanks for draining all of those extra fluids off of my body, I'm thinking so much more clearly now."

I found myself dazed and confused by her melodious laughter once more. I slowly became aware of the fact that I was staring into her luminous, green eyes.

"Hey," she said, smiling.

"Hello, angel," I said, returning her smile.

"Angel?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I've died. My brain just hasn't realized it yet."

She gave me a tip-toed lip-peck and then she was leading me, by the hand, to grab my shoes and my jacket. I followed obediently - like a toddler who's been promised ice cream.

Once the fresh air cleared my head, I guided her towards the tree with the weird scratch marks. It took fifteen minutes or so to reach it. She studied the tree, pulled out her phone, made sure the geo-location was turned on, and snapped some pictures.

From there, I took her to the weird footprints that I'd found under the edge of a low-hung pine tree. They were fainter than the last time I had looked at them. I watched her as she studied the print - and then looked around the area - trying to find more. She actually found a newer one twenty or so feet away - again under a low-hung pine tree.

There was an odd tuft of brown hair stuck in the needles on one of the branches. She pulled out a Ziploc baggie, wrote the time, date, and geo-location on the Ziploc - and then turned it inside out to use it like a plastic glove to grasp and retrieve the sample. That stop earned me a bear-hug and a lusty smooch.

"You should probably have long pants on," I told her, as we walked to the next spot.

"You don't like my legs?"

"I love your legs. I don't want to see them scratched up, is all."

That earned me another lip-smacking kiss. Pavlov's bell was hard at work - and my cock was growing again.

The last place I could think of to take Sophie was an odd... well... I guess I would call it a "structure". In Boy Scouts, we would call it a Pioneering project. From what I could tell, the thing didn't have a practical use - which was why I was sure it wasn't built by humans - but it was too organized to have been built by animals. It almost looked like a place-marker of some kind.

Sophie found it to be as interesting as I did - and spent quite a while studying the structure and the area around it; I spent a lot of time studying how well her ass fit into her shorts. It fit very well.

"Are you checking me out?" she asked, looping her arms through mine, wrapping me in a hug.

"Maybe," I admitted, smiling.

"If you keep that up, I might think you were trying to get into my panties, you old pervert."

"Pervert?"

"Naughty, naughty man - taking advantage of a defenseless young girl - spoiling her untouched gardens with your deceitful seed..."

"Untouched?" I said, leaning back to look into her eyes.

"Does that matter?" she asked.

"To a dirty old man like me, no," I replied, "but if you've been saving yourself for someone special, I think you should save it a bit longer."

"It's mine to give," she said, matter-of-factly.

"We can discuss it later," I replied.

"I thought you said it didn't matter," she said. "You're suddenly acting like it does."

"It may seem harsh of me to say, but it won't matter nearly as much to me as it will to you - especially after the fact."