Sasquatch!

This is a copyrighted original work. All rights reserved. This work may not be copied or distributed without the exclusive written permission of this author.

Many thanks to BlackRandi for the fine editing work and including me in the Surfing with the Alien writing event.

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She's a summer love in the spring, fall and winter. She can make happy any man alive.
-Jerry Garcia/Robert Hunter

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Years ago, when I was eighteen, my parents demanded that I join them for two weeks at my uncle's cabin way the hell up in northern Ontario. I'd been there many times, but I knew that there would be no one else my age there. Bottom line -- they didn't trust me at home by myself, even though I was going to be off, for the first time, to university in less than six weeks.

Aside from fishing and playing Nintendo there was basically nothing for me to do. My parents read the whole time. There was a television, but only one channel and you had to keep the generator running for electricity.

The cabin is on a lake and river system I'll not name for reasons which will become obvious, suffice it to say that it flowed and drained northward towards Hudson Bay. The lake is fairly small (about two miles long) and shaped more or less like a tall 'C' with the south river coming in at the south-east corner. This lake is just one amongst a chain of lakes in the river system. The south river, as we called it, is about a half mile along from the previous small lake with rapids all the way down and a narrow five foot high waterfall half way along. Below the waterfall was where I would launch the canoe and dodge rocks all the way down just like the voyagers of old. Occasionally I'd smack into a rock or get swamped but it was never a biggie. The north river is completely different. It is shallow and slowly meanders along as a combination of bogs and beaver dams, one after the other. On the west side of the lake is a private gravel roadway coming from the northwest which leads to the only five cabins on the lake, the last of which, the southernmost, was ours. The east side of the lake is dominated by a huge granite mound that had been ground down by previous glaciations. The locals referred to it as Blueberry Hill. In fact, blueberries grew everywhere, not just on the hill. The north-east corner of the lake is swampy; the rest is fairly rocky.

Aside from the road access to the lake, access by the river system was not impossible, but never done.

We knew that the other four cabins were currently not occupied. My parents and I were the only ones up that week.

It had been drizzling earlier that particular morning when I decided to entertain myself in the afternoon by running some mini-rapids down the south river with my uncle's twelve foot fibreglass canoe. There was an entry point, just below the water-fall.

It was a tricky portage, uphill all the way, with the canoe balanced on my shoulders and limited vision. Nevertheless, I'd done it many times.

That day I fucked up big time.

I banged the front of the upside down canoe on an overhead limb, knocking me sideways. I dropped the canoe, twisting my left ankle. I felt myself sliding down a steep twenty foot, wet, lichen and moss covered rock with the canoe tumbling next to me. I banged my left knee against a tree, then broke my fall with my right wrist and slid into the water feet first, miraculously not banging my head on a rock. I was carried down the rapids right behind the canoe which I could see was damaged and somehow bent in half. I caught hold of the canoe, made it out of the river's current and miraculously grounded myself and the wrecked canoe on a bit of a gravelly beach, just around the point on the east side of the lake. There were lichen covered rocks and trees behind me.

It was not at all a good situation.

The canoe was buckled in half, bent at the aluminium gunwales with the fibreglass split across the hull. The paddle was gone. I could see the life jacket bobbing away way out in the middle of the lake.

I didn't know if the canoe was fixable or not, but right now it was full of water and completely useless. I managed to drag the thing up on the shore.

My left ankle, left knee, left hip and right wrist were really sore but I didn't think anything was broken.

I truly fucked up. I was literally up shit's creek without a paddle or a floating, working canoe for that matter.

There was only one way of getting back to the cabin. I had to swim across the south river and hopefully not get carried out too far into the lake by the fairly strong current. Then with a sore left side and sore right wrist, I had to scramble along the rugged water's edge for the better part of a mile -- as the crow flies.

Going back up the south river and finding a place to cross was practically suicidal, even to my then eighteen year old - I'm going to live forever - brain.

The other way across, over Blueberry Hill and around the swamp at the north east end of the lake had to be at least ten miles. I'd have to use dead reckoning to find my way through the woods that I had only seen from the swampy water. I knew I could scamper across probably the very first beaver dam and eventually find my way back to the gravel road. It would be dark before I made it home. I didn't have a flashlight.

If I waited and hoped that my parents would get worried and come looking for me, again it would be close to or past dark.

I sat there feeling totally sorry for myself. I knew I was in shit. The enormity of the situation was crystallizing in my brain. I had to swim across, in the strong current and somehow get to the flat rock on the other side without getting carried out too far out into the lake. The flat rock was not that far, maybe a hundred and eighty feet away. Although the canoe was made to just barely float on its own when filled with water, being split as it was, it couldn't be baled out. I knew that if I tried to tow it along to the other side as I swam along I would just compound my problem and get swept out further into the lake. It had to stay here and be salvaged with my uncle's sixteen foot aluminium boat the next day.

There was no way I was going to try swimming with my running shoes on. I had to somehow tie them around my neck.

While I was pulling the laces out, I noticed some movement in the woods to my left. Something dark. The last thing I needed to deal with was a fucking bear. Whatever it was, it was about fifty feet away.

And then it was gone. And then it was standing on it's hind legs behind a tree. And then it was gone again. And back again. It wasn't a bear. It was somebody dressed in a big black coat with a hoodie. In July? It was peering at me then ducking back behind the tree. What the fuck? And how did he get there? I hadn't heard an ATV or a dirt bike during the whole time. Still he could be my ticket out of there somehow.

I called out and motioned for him to come closer, but he was gone.

I slipped my wet and partially unlaced running shoes back on and climbed over and limped to where he was. Nothing. Gone. I could hear the water running in the south river but nothing else. I called out again. No reply. It was fucking strange. I turned around to go back.

Suddenly, standing there in front of me, about twenty feet away, was a girl. All hairy. It was a girl alright because she had nice pointy tits. Not human and not an animal. I wasn't sure. She was fucking huge! She was at least my height and at eighteen, I was six-one. She was at least double my weight. She's a sasquatch! A bigfoot. I'd seen something on TV about them. She had to be one of them.

She was staring right at me. I was startled but I didn't feel scared. I'm not sure who was more shocked by the encounter.

She was actually pretty damn good looking, probably about my age, maybe a year older. You could tell by just looking at her face. She was covered in hair -- not fur -- everywhere except on her face. There was a scraggly little beard and moustache, but still definitely female. Her skin was a light brownish grey. She had a flat nose, a wide mouth with thinish lips. Her neck though, was almost nonexistent. Muscles sloped down from her relatively small ears to her shoulders which were as wide as a doorway. She had the type of shoulders that could hit a baseball clean out of the park. Her arms hung down almost to her knees. Her whole body was fucking ripped. The hair on her head was longer, basically covering those sloping shoulders. And the tits were glorious in spite of the hair. I could see her areola and nipples were darker, almost black.

I said "Hi". She said nothing. She just stared at me, straight into my eyes. Her eyes were black.

I took one step forward while raising my right hand and sore wrist.

Immediately she turned to her left and ran away. She disappeared in a flash. Silently.

Was I fucking seeing things? Did I actually hit my head on a rock or something?

I scampered back down to the water's edge where the busted canoe was beached. I sat back down and continued to string my running shoes together. It was a surreal moment. Did that actually happen? I kept on gazing into all the woods around me. Nothing.

"Hello," I called out, three times. Nothing.

My task at hand was certainly daunting. The low rock was directly across from me on the other side of the lake. To my left the current from the south river was boiling away. To my right the lake quickly opened up. I knew the current was going to carry me out so my swim would be basically in a 'U' shape. If I missed the target low rock, the shoreline quickly receded away just making the swim farther.

I also realized that the running shoes would be a drag in the water. My best bet, I figured, was to tie the shoes together using as much shoe lace as I could and pop the shoes on my back while I did a breast stroke to the other side. The laces would be across the front of my neck as I swam along.

It was a great plan, in principle.

I took a big breath and set off. The first few strokes were okay but as soon as I hit the current the shoes slipped off my back dragging in the water. The shoes started to choke me, just a little at first. I had to keep swimming towards the rock but it didn't seem as if it was getting any closer. The shoes were almost pulling me down underwater. I started to panic. My sore left leg wasn't helping at all. I had to get rid of the shoes and fend for myself on the other side without them.

As I was pulling the shoes off my neck a big black hairy arm grabbed me by the waist and rolled me onto my side and pulled me towards her. She held me in her left arm and did a side stroke with her right. I and my running shoes which were still dragging behind me were being rescued -- saved -- by a sasquatch! I couldn't believe what was happening. We glided through the water effortlessly even though I was coughing and sputtering, trying not to drown. That hairy monster angel's forearm was thicker than my leg.

Before I knew it, she clambered onto the low rock and gently rolled me and my shoes off of her. She sat facing me with her legs wide open. She held her hands out towards me. I reached out to take a hold of them. Hers were way bigger than mine. It didn't matter. I pulled her hairy hands towards my face and kissed them. Twice. She looked at me with almost shock on her face.

"Thank you," I said coughing. "Holy shit, thank you," I took a deep breath, "thank you." I sat up on my left elbow on my sore side facing her. She was smiling at me. Her teeth were big, flat and white. It seemed the space between the bottom of her nose and her top lip was slightly longer that normal. She had a great smile though and her tits looked even better now that her hair was all wet and matted down.

She chirped a little laugh as she caught me glancing down to her crotch. Definitely female. Her hand, which was double the size of mine, slid down between her legs. I saw a little flash of pink. She laughed again but this time it was more than a chirp, it had some bass tones to it too. Her eyes were twinkling. The smile grew even wider.

She stood up and stepped over to me. I lay back down onto the rock. One shoe was nestled up against my neck.

She straddled over me and looked down. She was massive. Her head touched the sky. Slowly she crouched down. Her crotch was coming straight for my face. Time slowed down. Closer and closer it came. Two hairy fingers splayed open her hairy crotch. Pink slowly descended towards me. And then I could smell her. My sphincter tightened up as my cock jolted to life. Suddenly pink inner cunt lips were in gentle contact with my face. With my lips, with my nose, with my cheeks. I was in sasquatch pussy heaven. I tasted her with my tongue. I could feel a huge clit bumping sideways on my nose and mouth.

Suddenly with another laugh she stood up, stepped off of me, turned and dove into the water. I quickly sat up, I'm sure with my mouth open in shock, and watched as she rolled onto her back and swam away from me towards the east shore where the canoe was breached. Her nipples created two vee shaped wakes in the water. She stared in my eyes the whole time.

"Thank you," I said as I waved to her. I watched her climb up onto the shore. Her ass and ass crack was very well defined and quite shapely, albeit in a very muscular way. She glanced back at me and smiled once more before disappearing back into the dark woods again.

I wasn't quite sure what had happened to me, but one thing I was definitely sure of. I had a raging hard on. I slipped my swimming trunks down and jerked myself off. Right then. Right there and in spite of my sore wrist. I could still taste her. I came like a fountain.

Eventually, I limped back to the cabin. I explained what happened to the canoe but didn't mention anything about a sasquatch. It would be a huge understatement to say that my parents were not happy with me. The game plan was that the next day I would take the aluminium boat with the 9.9 hp Evinrude motor and salvage the canoe. My dad would make the call as to whether the canoe could be fixed or not. Repair or replacement costs would be mine, even though at the time I had very little money.

I was fast asleep in the middle of the night when my mother called out to me, "Joey did you hear that?" What? She lit a candle. I could see her doing up her housecoat in the main room.

"Hear what?"

My dad answered, "There was a tapping on the outside wall."

"At least four taps," my mom added.

"No, I didn't hear anything." Even though the generator was off and my bedroom light wasn't working it was a fairly bright night. Still, I couldn't see a thing outside. It couldn't have been a branch hitting the cabin; all the trees were set back a ways.

The next day as I swung by in the aluminium boat for the salvage operation, I noticed that on the low rock where I licked my first pussy, sasquatch or otherwise, were four flat river stones piled one on top of the other. Each stone was about six inches in diameter. They sure as hell weren't there yesterday. Strange.

On the other side of the south river, hanging from a tree branch next to the busted canoe, where I sat untying the shoe laces was a very curious thing. A branch a good three quarters of an inch in diameter was broken and hanging down with a twisted tight knot in it. Inside the knot was small piece of green glass with its edges smoothed down, kind of like a jewel. There is no way I could twist a knot that tight with my bare hands. I could do it to a little twig but not a stick. I saw no tool marks. Very strange. I kept it and brought it back with me.

I wedged the canoe into the boat and made it back safely. My dad figured it could be repaired, but he wasn't going to try. He would ask at the local marina, which was quite a ways away. Although I did a quick search of the entire lake, I found the life jacket but not the paddle.

I went back to the south river the next day with a whole bunch of bananas. (I know, stereotype alert -- I get it). It was the best thing we had in the kitchen. I hung the bananas carefully next to where the knot had been. I hung them as high as I could reach, well away from bears or anything. I couldn't find the paddle anywhere.

The next day the bananas were gone and the missing paddle was laying right there on the ground.

I zipped back to the cabin just to raid the fridge for treats and headed straight back to the tree. This time I absconded with pretty much everything my parents had. A whole side of smoked salmon. A five-pound bag of carrots, the last nine raw eggs and two slightly stale Kaiser buns. All of that got hung from the tree. For that I got an earful from both my mom and my dad.

The next day, even though it was drizzling a bit, I and my growing bone set off to see if the treats were gone. Sure enough they were. On the ground under the tree piled up, were the four flat rocks from the other side of the river. I sat on the wet ground holding one of the rocks trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Are sasquatch animals, humans or kinda half-and-half? Is she part of a family unit? How many of them are there? I didn't think I wanted to meet her dad.

As I sat there a thought, like a voice in my head said, 'Don't be frightened.' I wasn't. That was followed by, 'I'm coming.' Was that just in my head or was I hearing things?

A few moments later I heard a branch snap deep in the woods. As I gazed into the direction of where the noise came, I thought I saw some movement. Then a bit more. And then I saw her half hiding behind a tree. I motioned for her to come.

'Thank you,' was the voice in my head. "Thank you," I said aloud.

Slowly she stepped into full view. Still naked and lovely. Her hair was shining and appeared to be groomed. I stood up and held out my hands to her, palms up. I could see she was a bit nervous as she slowly, almost gliding, moved towards me and placed her big hands in mine. I had to look up to her by an inch or so.

Slowly I kissed the back of one hand then the other. When I looked up at her again she was smiling at me with her double size white teeth. She was actually quite cute in a scary hairy monster way.

I dropped one of her big hands and tried to cup her right hand with both of mine. "I'm Joey," I said. There was no response. Still holding her hand with my left I pointed to my chest, "Joey." Tapping my chest again I repeated, "Joey. What's your name?" I pointed to her.

After a pregnant pause, "Churr," was her response uttered in a low guttural voice. Still hold her hand I stroked the back of it and said, "I'm very pleased to meet you Churr." She smiled again and then pulled me towards her and her beautiful tits. They were full, yet pointing up and out. The darker areola were about two and half inches diameter and her nipples were as thick as my thumbs. Suddenly I was pressed up against them. She hugged me gently and I hugged her hairy chest and back. My fingers weren't even close to touching on her back. Her upper body was barrel like. I realized she could have crushed me right then and there.

'Don't be frightened,' was her immediate response - in my head - as she relaxed her hug on me. Is this how she communicates? By telepathy? What the fuck?

"No, I think you're sexy," was my vocal response as I cupped her tits with both of my hands and rubbed gently. She smiled again as she let out a low guttural moan. With her right hand she brushed my growing cock through my already wet swimming trunks. I dropped my right hand to her dark hairy crotch. It, too, was wet and my fingers quickly found her massive clit and soft folds.

Suddenly I had a full on boner. In one fluid motion I kicked off my running shoes, pulled my wet tee-shirt off and then dropped and stepped out of my trunks. One skinny white boy stood facing one dark hairy wild woman. The only thing that separated us was my stiff cock and maybe two inches of electrified, sexually charged air. My hand was back in her crotch within a nanosecond.