Anna's Merry Canoe Trip

Some words of introduction are in order I guess.

No pixels were harmed during the writing of this story. And if they tell you otherwise, i didn't do it! I was framed! They are lying, OK?

Please don't expect me giving you a detailed description of myself. I hate that. Not the giving part, I don't like reading it. Some crap about lush and soft roundnesses including cup sizes. If you want to imagine me as a two meter tall red head with freckles and braided, ass long hair, why not? You would be totally wrong there, but who cares? And no, my aureolas are none of your business and they are probably different from what you imagine right now. Except if you are my pervy neighbour. He knows exactly how they look like, but that's absolutely not my fault. How should I've known that he's up at 5:20 in the morning while I take my morning shower with my bathroom's window open, because it was such a hot day? See? His fault, not mine.

Anyway, as you have probably already guessed, English is not my mother's tongue. Long sentences. So, please excuse my mistakes. Just imagine me having a cute accent and we are golden.

Well, problem is, despite me telling you differently you need to know some rough description and measurements. They will be important at some point of the story and I promise to keep it short and brief. So, short, that's me. Very. And light. And not much at the chest department. Sorry for blowing your "short pixie with huge knockers" bubble. It's pretty much more easy to find a Cinderella bra for me than something nice made of translucent silk. No, I'm not wearing Cinderella bras and I never have. There's something like good taste and dignity. If you like them worn, buy one for yourself.

But Pixie is not exactly wrong. I like my hair not too long. To the shoulder is enough, but normally it's a short Pixie Cut. I used to wear them longer, but as soon as I was allowed to ride a motorbike I decided that long hair and helmet are a bad mix.

Enough of that, let's get started.

+++

Setting Sails

Here's something with no relation to any actual deeds whatsoever. I swear, all made up and offspring of my sick mind. Really.

You know I like canoeing. I did that regularly and rented a Canadian with my love to go down the upper Old River (totally generic name, like all the others, they have names but I'm not telling) from the dark forest to the lower hill area. Normally, we started at the monastery of River Village and stayed later for the night at one of the many public campgrounds. Just a meadow with a water tap and a toilet in most cases. No need for more. It was a hot summer day and not my first day out. I was young, read: stupid, and decided to wear sun screen and a bikini. My love was out less often than I therefore it was swimming trunks, tee and sandals for him.

Applying sun screen was fun "Don't you dare miss a spot, dear." But we had the decency to do that under cover. No need to work up the monks. Aren't we good people?

Soon we left port, a big stone, the river is like three meters wide there, and sailed away. Paddled.

Normally I'm at the back steering, because I'm good at it while he's providing dumb muscle. My words, not his. Not that day, because he wanted to learn steering better, so why not. The river is tame there. Needless to say that it gave me a great excuse just to appreciate the sunshine and a sip of beer from time to time. Yes, I like beer and no, I was not underage.

The first problem was a few rocks, which he confidently avoided. Sort of. What are a few scratches on the hull?

The first barrage was more interesting. They are just one meter high and have an opening in the middle for canoeists. It's just stupid when you can't decide whether to portage or go through. Then you have to go non-straight down. But what the hell, the day was hot and a bikini dries quickly. Did you know that men don't like women giggling softly because they think we're laughing at them? And they're right about that.

However, we made good pace. I had a good excuse to lie down, dry, and work on my tan. The river was empty and not that near to the next village or road so I asked him if he was ok with me going naked. He was more than happy, so I did. I would have anyway, but giving him the illusion of choice makes me a nice person, right?

I lay flat in the canoe on my front and aimed in his direction. Like a gun aimed for its target. Except that a gun normally has only one hole and hot things get out of it, not in.

Was opening my legs a bad move? No of course not. It made him happy, sort of. At least 7ish inches of him were very happy and tried to get a closer look. Damn stretch fabric didn't allow it.

And I teased him relentlessly. Calling him the experienced helmsman with the big oar. Hey, not my fault. He needed that. I'm sure of it. Gets him a healthy raise of blood pressure. And I know it's a paddle. I wanted to give him the victory of correcting me. Am is good girl or what?

Problem is, he didn't. Because he knew I know. And so on. He may not be a good helmsman, but he's not stupid.

Soon I took it up a notch and got up to sit on his lap. I let the huge helmsman explain to me how to steer a canoe without capsizing.

That's totally impractical for steering a canoe but he didn't complain. What red blooded straight male would send a nude girl away? And yes, I'm the first to admit that I'm a horny slut if I want to be one, and I want to be one pretty often.

I began running my ass over the other "paddle" of his. Leaning back I started fondling his balls while talking about hull shapes and how large a mast should be for a small boat and how to set it up and how to secure it tightly. Yes, I'm mean, sue me if you must.

+++

Here Be Dragons

The shit hit the fan when we came round a bend in the river.

I was still sitting naked on his lap and played with his balls, when I saw on the bank in a meadow there were two canoes and four guys sitting next to them. Well, I'm not an exhibitionist, but I can show a little bit. What I didn't expect was that the gentleman who kindly provided his lap as a seat was out for revenge. I mean, who could have guessed that? Shouldn't he just be happy that I was generously providing him with the pleasure of my company?

But no, he went for "Hey guys, look what I found upstream! Is that a fish or a mermaid?"

Bastard. Asking that is ok, but using the steering skill I thought him to get right next to them is not OKish. I guess.

The oldest, let's call him Papa Bear, because of his greyish beard, said "It's a fish for sure. Can we have a bite?" "Sure, it's lunchtime anyway." With that he set ashore, pushed me off and grabbed my bikini and other luggage.

I may have beaten him. But that would have involved blood and broken bones, so I didn't.

I just sat naked in the canoe, five guys in front of me, ranging from 20, my so called "Love" to 50ish, Papa Bear. I decided not to go all scared little girl and did the opposite. I jumped off, but not into the water to swim to freedom but between them.

"I heard about lunch." I said. Papa Bear answered "Yes, of course, let's just start a fire and spit roast you until you are well done."

"Good idea" my love added "I think she really needs to be done slowly and thoroughly."

One of the younger guys, let's call him Conan, because he apparently worked out said "Is she as tasty as she looks like?"

My love told them "She's pretty juicy, but a bit of the small side." Conan had upper arms twice the diameter of my tights. And I was cycling regularly. "May I see if there's enough meat on that little fish?"

Me: "No!"

Love: "Sure."

So, Conan pulled me up laying me over his shoulder. Legs held with one arm, arms with the other I was laying behind his head.

Again, I could have fought him. A swift kick in the fork to get his attention, straight fingers into the eyes for distraction and then a sideways kick to his knee to break it. Easy peasy.

But I decided to play along. You need two to tango but only one to start a fight. I mean, breaking bones, shedding blood, injure, cripple, kill because of what? Some guys seeing my tities and my ass? Ok, and the vulva. But honestly, people have seen that in the sauna, and surprisingly they survived the sight. I felt no urge for violence then, so why start it now. It was my decision to be naked and I knew about the risk to be seen. I didn't care then, why regret it now? A little bit humiliating, ok. If things started getting dicy I still could run or fight.

Only problem, they were five. Four, not counting helmsman. But most people are bad good fighters. Good fighters, as in good in winning fights, not as in being good people, don't hesitate. They just hit whatever they can reach, kick whatever they can get, until someone is dead. People like this can be found in prison or asylum. But normally not on a river bank next to their canoe. So, I wasn't afraid of violation, just a bit humiliation and that I can weather.

Papa Bear pinched my ass. "Not bad. Lean muscle. I'm sure there's enough for all of us. But is she fresh or smelly already?" "Give it a try." Wait, what? Papa Bear didn't hesitate and smelled my ass. "That will do." He commented. "Let's sit down to eat."

So we did. We sat on three tree trunks set there for that purpose in a u-shape. Me between Conan and Papa Bear, the other two guys in front of me, let's call them Oggle and Goggle for apparent reasons. They could have after a little bit more subtle.

Between Conan and Oggle my love.

So we ate. No, no clothes for me, thanks for asking.

After a while, while we talked about canoeing, I felt Papa Bears hand on my back. I didn't complain. Two to tango, remember? Make a scene? Not me. Ram my fist into his balls? Possibility, but a bit over the top. And hey, I was aroused from earlier and he didn't look that bad.

I just looked at him smiling sweetly. So, we talked and his hand, invisible for the others because we sat pretty close and it was behind it backs, ventured lower and lower. I guess he expected me to stop him at the crack. I didn't.

So he slowly and carefully explored that.

I on my side moved backward a bit to not sit on the good parts. He took it as what it was. An invitation.

I'm pretty sure Oggle and Goggle didn't see his hand moving. And moving it did. First massaging, feeling the wetness, then entering, feeling the heat, then thrusting his fingers into my snatch. I'm also pretty sure both of them saw my nipples hardening. Hard to miss that.

While the both of them watched, Conan talked to my love, Papa Bear finger fucked me. And I loved it.

He knew exactly what he was doing. I tried to remember all his moves. My love had to learn that! After he brought me to nearly orgasm and preventing from it, denying it, the third time, I announced that I had to pee. "Can we watch?"

"No. Perverts."I stood up and went for the bushes. I took a place where I was able to see Papa Bear, but no one except him could see me.

I squatted down, facing his direction. We looked at each other and I opened my legs. He had a clear sight at my slit. Right as the stream started to flow I started fingering myself. And he started licking his fingers.

When the flow ended, I moved forward in kneeing position, opened my slit with one hand and started thrusting. It only needed like ten seconds and I came. Watching him watching me.

I washed my pee stained, cum covered hands in the river. And it's purely incidental that five guys had a great view.

Later we parted. My first words after my love handed me my bikini were "I'm going to kill you. You owe me big time. There's lots to do for you to get away with this stunt." Not knowing about what happened he looked very apologetic. I thought his plan was to shame me a bit. And things escalated, or something like that.

+++

Calm Waters

Our afternoon was calm. Just a loving couple in their Canadian going down the river. As I said the Danube is very narrow there. We were lucky. We were lucky in that there is one of the seepages, which means that in the dry months the river disappears completely for a few kilometres. But we had planned the tour for the water was there.

Later we reached the campsite, a meadow surrounded by trees in a bend of the river. We had already registered with the municipality, so we only had to do the shopping. Fresh food simply tastes better.

We had the campsite all to ourselves, or so we thought.

When we came back with a full backpack, well, he with the backpack, men's muscles must be good for something, we weren't anymore.

Oggle and Goggle were making a fire, Conan was preparing the sleeping places and, who would have thought it, Papa Bear was lazing under a tree. When he saw us, he rose to greet us. He told us his name and shook hands with my beloved. Then he held out his paw to me. I made no effort to take it and only said, "Wash your paws first. Who knows where you've had your fingers in." My love looked at me a little irritated, but Papa Bear just laughed, licked his hand off and grabbed mine in a flash and shook it.

In the meantime the other three had arrived and we greeted each other.The others had brought their food, so we could start preparing dinner right away. It turned out that Conan was quite a passable cook, even if I found his habit of showing his muscles at every opportunity and walking around without a top somewhat irritating. The six of us ate together and each had a beer to go with it. The atmosphere was relaxed.

My love and I decided to go for a walk after dinner, luckily the others didn't want to go. I still had a "debt" to collect. Exposing me naked? Ok, I was the one dropping my clothes, but the exposing was his doing.

We walked along the river until we found a nice place to swim. We took off our clothes, for me it was only the bikini, but who likes to sit there in the evening in wet clothes, and went into the water. Is there anything more beautiful than swimming naked at sunset? Of course there is. Lots of it, in fact. But it's pretty damn far ahead. After a while, I sat down on a stone on the shore, dangling my legs in the water. "Honey?" I asked "do you have a minute?" He looked in my direction questioningly. I opened my thighs and pointed between them. "You still have work to do here." I licked my lips and tightened my legs. Obediently he came to me and put his head between my legs. He did everything as I had painstakingly taught him. First lick nicely on the outside, then gradually part the labia with his tongue, massage the clitoris with the tip of his tongue from below, but don't lick over it too soon! After a while, gently penetrate with the tongue.

Women are known to be multitaskers. What the men have never understood and never will. How could they? After all, they can't do it. How could the blind understand colours? We even can appreciate a good licking and think about the incapacities of said men.

So I sat there and let myself be pampered between the legs. I decided to let him work for a while longer and then help him along so that it would all end well. I let my thoughts wander and my eyes almost closed as I massaged my breasts. Then I saw the two in the bushes. Oggle and Goggle. If I had had to guess which of the guys was a peeping tom, I would have guessed those two. And I was right. So, jump up? Scream? Throw stones at them? I decided to open my legs wider to give them a better look and started working my nipples with my fingertips.

Even though the two perverts were lousy at hiding, Leatherstocking would have turned in his grave, they were still well hung. They were close enough and enjoyed the show. Especially when I grabbed my lover's head and pressed it against my pussy, they seemed to get very excited. I decided it was time to have an orgasm and rubbed my shame harder over his face. Not earth-shattering, but not bad either. When I saw his pussy-juice smeared face, I stifled a laugh and pulled him out of the water.

Well, his noodle used to be bigger, but that happens in cold water.

I took him in my arms, kissed him and began to massage his rapidly hardening cock. A quick glance out of the corner of my eye convinced me that the two peeping toms were still there. If it's going to be a show, it's going to be to the end.

I jerked my lover off and he was already getting that goofy stupid look on his face that excited and therefore happy men get.

Time to give them both something. Watching a cock wank is something they can do with themselves, after all. Or each other. They are peeping toms. I pushed my beloved back, "Relax my darling, you did well and you deserve a reward." I bent his cock upwards and began to suck him.

I don't think the two of them were disappointed that they didn't see my lips around my beloved's now thick shaft again. Then I stretched my bottom in their direction.

As I began to move my head up and down, feeling his glans deeper in my mouth each time, I opened my legs wide enough for them to see not only my lover's shaft and balls, but also my tits. And of course my shiny cleft and above it my rosette. Deep throat is a matter of relaxation. The gag reflex takes place in the head. When you swallow food, you don't gag. Unless the food is bad, but that's another topic. I started swallowing his penis. At the same time, I reached between my legs and opened my cunt for them. As his glans began to penetrate my throat, I penetrated my hole with two fingers.

When my fingers were nice and slimy, I smeared the juice on my asshole. Unfortunately, I didn't get to finger-fuck my rear entrance because, as is often the case, my lover finished a little faster than I did. But it would be unfair to blame him for that. After all, I've already had two...

+++

Storm Ahead

After our merry encounter at the river, or better: with the legs in the river, we dressed and went back. There was a bonfire to sit around to be attended and marshmallows to be roasted. They brought them. That should have been a warning for me. I mean, adult men eating half liquid, half burned foamed sugar? That's absolutely ok for little kids without any developed taste whatsoever. But North of thirty years it's a sure sign of a diseased mind. Like multiple exclamation marks or hello kitty tattoos.

So, I knowingly walked right into my doom. And marshmallows aren't too bad if correctly done. Outside crisp, inside just slightly liquid. Hey, don't blame me. I'm just a twenty years old engineering student. I'm allowed to like them. And I have a sweet tooth. So, don't blame me for your prejudices.

When we arrived, the fire was already in perfect condition and we sat down next to Papa Bear and Conan. Me next to Conan. Oggle and Goggle arrived, surprise!, a few minutes after us.

To my joy I found out that Conan was not only a big lump of manly muscle meat, but quite an intelligent conversationalist about fluid mechanics. Actually he worked for my professor at the Institute of Fluid Mechanics. We were in a heated discussion about finite volume calculation and other interesting topics (yes, the k-e-RNG model is outdated, but still had its fans) when my beloved one asked Papa Bear if he knew what we were talking about. He didn't. Papa Bear was a Dr of gastroenterology, so not exactly the right person for that subject.

Don't get me wrong. My beloved is a big guy, well educated and a fabulous piano player. He was a student himself and absolutely used to fight female opponents of my size verbally. You don't know what I'm talking about? Try studying music and then try studying Scriabin while five Korean girls try to take the key to the piano from you and practise on it themselves.

And he's cunning. No concert piano key for forth semester students because these things are expensive apparently. Good thing to know a girl who knows a good locksmith. And before you ask, I will deny everything. I'm an engineering student. What do I know about pianos or music?