I first became fascinated with crypto-zoology when I took several graduate courses at a major university in Ohio. Bigfoot, or Sasquatch, the common Native American terminology, was my peculiar fetish.
The erotic dreams woke me every night. I fantasized I was seduced by a Sasquatch.
Were the tabloid headlines like "Beautiful Women Help to Lure Bigfoot" and "Sasquatch Likes to Study the Ladies" true? I could never get back to sleep after the frightmares until I masturbated and changed my panties.
Soon after my arrival at the university, I began a love affair with a certain professor of religious studies. Pillow talk has its rewards.
This nutty professor had all sorts of intriguing unconventional religious theories and even kinkier sexual desires. He told me I was a descendent of Lilith, the original demon of the dark. He ignored me when I said, "Oh shit, not again, a chick who wears leather and carries a whip always gets stereotyped."
So Doc, that's what I called him, tells me all this jive about Lilith and how she was the first vampire and invented fellatio. Her goal in life was to suck the life force out of a man, his blood and his semen.
Doc even quoted the bible to me and pointed out passages where Lilith appeared. And he also had copies of Dead Sea Scroll fragments that he said clinched it.
I felt like saying, "Geez mawn, will you just stick it in me and shut up?" But the more Doc talked about this stuff the more intrigued I became. I could suck his cock slowly and softly for hours listening to him babble on and on about demons, vampires, fallen angels and bigfoots.
According to Doc, Lilith was a parasitical predator who used her greatest weapons, her incredible beauty, her aura of sensuality and the skills taught her by supernatural beings to lure men into her snare.
"Who, who, me?" I stammered.
"Yes, you!" the Doc exclaimed. "Who, who is right. Lilith, the screech owl, whose color changes from red to gray and back to red, depending on the results of the night's hunting."
And then he would beg me to feed. He would beg me to take a razor blade, cut a cross shape on his chest and lick and suck the blood. He never would let me cut his penis but the licking and sucking always finished up there.
When he finally came in my mouth, he would change the subject from Lilith to Bigfoot.
He would ask questions like "Is the Bigfoot a man, beast or an aberration that resulted from the sexual perversions of the fallen angels thousands of years ago? Why do Native American legends abound regarding bigfoot like creatures? The Sasquatch of our country, the Yeti of Asia, the Mapinguari of the Amazon region, the Yowie of Australia, the Abominable Snowman of the Himalayas are all what?"
And then he would answer his own questions. "Bigfoot are mutants. Their ancestors are Nephilim, fallen angels; the fallen angels who came to earth and copulated with women. A dormant recessive supernatural gene has caused significant genetic damage over the past 6,000 years. They remain, however, incredibly intelligent despite their outward appearance. There are numerous photographs and footprints of Bigfoot in evidence. Sightings are increasing but they are extremely elusive and dispose of the remains of the dearly departed."
When I told Doc about my latest Sasquatch erotic frightmare he would spank me. I love being a bad girl and I love being spanked for my misbehavior even more. He was brutal! Talk about a sore red ass.
Doc liked to spank me with my panties on. When he was done smacking the shit out of me he would remove my panties with his teeth and keep them for who knows what. He never told me and I didn't ask because he would always give me his credit card and tell me to go buy more. I made quite an impression at K-Mart charging $500 worth of panties.
As it turned out, my lifetime supply of panties came in quite handy for Sasquatch hunting. I had so many panties that my new friend Caitlin helped herself although it took her some getting used to because that squaw had gone without most of her life. I bought some "Barely There Underwear" just for her. It's a psychological thing.
Then Doc would put on this stupid gorilla suit, lick my pussy with the utmost enthusiasm and change the subject again.
Doc was an "expert" on just about everything, particularly cervical-puboccygeal orgasm. Right, vaginal orgasm. I described my orgasms and he insisted they were clitoral and not vaginal. He wasn't impressed by my scholarly attitude when I said, "What the fuck difference does it make? I'm not interested in what name you give it, just how it feels."
I guess it was some sort of private lesson when he taught me about Kegal exercises. I soon found myself practicing every time I took a piss. Sitting on the can I kept hearing his words, "Tighten for a count of ten and work up to a count of thirty."
I'd also get bored in just about every class and start practicing and wonder how many other coeds were doing it. Maybe this was just my erotic imagination but there seemed to be a whole lot of squirming going on. I'd pick out either the professor or the cutest guy in the class and pretend I was squeezing his dick. You know, with no hands.
Doc suggested I take a class in molecular genetics so I did. The professor of that course obtained a hair sample from an alleged Sasquatch and attempted to isolate a sequenced mitochrondial gene fragment to determine the phylogenetic affiliation of the creature.
I jumped his bones too. Only way he would tell me a secret. Actually, I don't mind humping gray-beards that much. At least they have something interesting to say. This professor finally admitted to me that his research had determined Sasquatch was far more human than ape. He was afraid to publish his research lest he be subject to great public ridicule. I gave him a real special blowjob for that revelation.
And in his class one girl really got my attention. She would do it so slyly but I noticed. I could tell she was doing the same thing I was doing and then she would slip her hand under her desk to you know where. She was so expressionless who but me could tell? What gave her away, at least to me, was her feet. She always wore sandals instead of moccasins and when she starting wiggling her toes like crazy I knew she was about to give herself one great orgasm.
The sandal clad one's name was Caitlin Cornplanter. Obviously a Native American and extraordinarily beautiful and exotic looking.
I learned so much from her and I'm not talking just all about Native American culture and Sasquatch. We became lovers.
A Seneca she is and born on a reservation, actually in the only city which lies entirely within a reservation, Salamanca. Caitlin is one of the more than five hundred now living descendents of the great Seneca chief, Cornplanter.
Cornplanter's mother was a Seneca and his father was an Irishman. This explained some of Caitlin's physical characteristics. She has extraordinarily red hair both places. In fact, one would think she was a sassy Irish lass with an awesome tan but for the buckskin garb and braids that usually hung over her breasts.
Caitlin also had been in the Doc's bed and she was likewise enamored of the Sasquatch. Although as she told me, "To the Seneca, he is Ge no'squa, the Stone Giant."
She continued, "The Seneca legends passed down for many centuries portray the one you call Sasquatch as a supernatural recluse and spirit being brought out into the presence of humans by only the scent of a beautiful seductress and succubus, a bitch in heat."
