Searching for Sasquatch

"You okay?" she asked, watching my eyes.

"Most of the time, it's fine."

"It just hits you, though, right?"

"Yeah."

She walked over and stood next to me. I looked up at her.

"My chair's cold," she said, watching my eyes, "can I share yours?"

I stood, took her plate, set it next to mine, and wrapped my arms around her.

Touching my nose to hers, I said, "I don't know if you really came here for what you've said, Angel. I find myself caring less and less. I'm not sure what I've done to deserve this time with you or the attention you've given me but I want you to know that you are exquisitely beautiful and I could pass from this planet tomorrow and the mortician wouldn't even have to work to manufacture a smile on my corpse."

"Enough talk about death," she said, sternly. "Sit."

I dropped onto the chair and turned so that she could sit sideways on my lap and face the table. She sat down, wriggling her butt-cheeks enough to yank me out of my revelry, and then scooted her plate next to mine to start on her breakfast.

She took two bites before she said, "Eat or I'm not fucking you."

I nibbled her ear, her cheek, her jaw, her neck, her shoulder, and the side of her breast. The nipple was hiding within the apron or I would have nibbled it as well.

"Your food," she clarified, smirking, "not me."

"I was just starting with dessert," I replied, grinning like an idiot.

She snort-laughed.

I kissed the corner of her mouth - as she chewed her food - and then started on my meal.

"The egg is perfect, Beautiful," I told her, as I cut into it and the not-quite-coagulated yoke oozed over to make a mess of my bacon.

I picked up the toast and dunked it into the golden ambrosia.

Sophie watched my face, smiling, as I took a bite. I closed my eyes to focus on the rich flavor and the texture of the crusted bread.

"Your face looked that way when I rubbed myself with your cock-head yesterday," she told me, smiling, before giving me a tender kiss.

I reached my right hand into her apron to squeeze her breast as we kissed again. She moaned into my mouth and writhed on my lap, waking the slumbering beast.

"Eat," she ordered. "I'm ready for dessert."

A few minutes later, she returned from the bedroom with clothes on and I raised an eyebrow at her.

"Woman's prerogative," she replied to my unspoken query. "I want to look for tracks."

I stuck my dishes in the sink and went to dress.

~~~

I was content to stand on the stoop and watch as she made wider and wider circles - looking for tracks or other marks. As soon as she gave up on finding anything near the cabin, however, she claimed my hand and she instructed me to run the circuit that I'd taken her on the previous day.

As we walked, I realized that she was going to need me to repeat this again - because she was watching the ground for tracks - rather than paying attention to where we were going. Normally, being forced to repeat something, over and over, would irritate me. However, Sophie was easy on the eyes - in addition to being a breath of fresh air - and her every little affectation made my heart flutter like it hadn't done in years. It kind of reminded me of what it had been like, watching a caterpillar with my two-year-old. Everything was new and exciting.

For a passing moment, I wondered what my kids would think. Neither knew about my writing hobby. Likely, Sophie would appear and disappear and there wouldn't be anything to even mention - whenever I saw them next. I resolved to take each moment as it came and not worry about it for now.

As we walked, she talked.

"Did you know that Sasquatch is actually an Anglicization of the Halkomelem name, 'Sasq'ets'?"

"Hal-what?"

"It's a Native American - sorry - indigenous people tribe. Several tribes have stories about the Sasquatch. The Sioux called him Chiye-Tanka - which means 'Big Elder Brother'. The Cheynne had a 'hairy man' they named 'Maxemista'."

"Do you know?" I said, lowering my voice, so that she leaned closer, "That your brain is almost as cute as your perfect breasts?"

"Now you're just trolling for kisses, I think," she said, giving me one - despite her protestation.

"I prefer the term 'trawling'," I replied.

She giggled and gave me another. Mission accomplished.

As was her habit, we spent several minutes - at each location - looking for new signs of Bigfoot's passing. On the way back, I took her down to the lake's edge. The shore was rock-strewn but there were smaller animal prints along the bank.

She released my hand and went to explore. I took a few pictures of her. One photo was an attempt at something artistic - the rest were just so that I'd have something to look at when this little dust-devil disappeared from my present into my past.

The sun was creeping, steadily, across the sky as we finally made our way back to the cabin.

Since we had eaten breakfast late, we grabbed an apple for lunch.

~~~

A half-hour later, I once again found myself in the voyeur's chair in Sophie's room.

I tried to put "words to paper" as her fingers once again slid over her tender, young form. In the story, the blonde vixen was doing the same thing as the protagonist watched in rapt attention.

I couldn't get over how tiny Sophie's nipples were. I've never seen anything like it. I thought back to the times we'd been intimate. Had I tasted them yet? I had no memory of it. I'd fixated on them last time, as well. How had I not immediately sought those stiff nubs out when I had the chance? Or, had I - and I'd forgotten? Somehow, I think I'd focused more on the cunnilingus. I seemed to recall cumming in great gouts as her throat milked my cock when she swallowed - and the muscles of her esophagus had wrenched the seed from my body.

Her glistening, pink, untainted blossom was opening again. The air was filled with the scents of spring and the fields were awash with eye-popping colors.

My eyes shot to her chest - those nipples again - as her finger dared to touch her clit - and the breath in her chest caught with a gasp. God, I wanted to chew those teat-tips!

My hand strayed towards my tented pants but she caught - and scolded - me. Thankfully, her next instruction was for me to get naked. I moved quickly - before she could change her mind.

My cock was aching to be touched. Her sensuous visual teasing and her sexy sounds were driving me mad. I didn't bother to pick the laptop back up. I sat - with my hands clenched on the armrests of the chair - ready to propel myself forward at the first word that it was time for me to bury my prick in that tense hole that barely permitted her fingers to penetrate it.

"It's not working," she finally complained.

She held her hand up and ordered, "Clean my fingers and get your cock up here."

I was off the chair and airborne in seconds - like a greyhound after the rabbit. I took her small, slim hand in mine and sucked her finger. The fronts of my legs were wedged firmly against her taut ass. Her left hand was gripping my cock - lining me up with her entrance - nudging the tip of it into her tightness.

She groaned in frustration.

"I can use my mouth," I said, pulling off of her fingers.

"I want your cock - not your mouth," she complained.

"One step at a time."

"We completed that step."

"Trade me places. Ride me until you relax. You can't force it."

"I want you on top."

I scooted back off of the bed, wrapped my hands around the fronts of her legs, and pulled her to the edge. I spanked her slit a couple times with my rod and then pressed it on top of her slit and shoved her legs tightly together - with her feet high in the air.

I slowly slid my cock in and out of the narrow gap, brushing her entrance, her slit, and - finally - her clit, as I stroked forward.

"Mmmm," she moaned.

I drug my cock back out, hesitated a half-second, and then slid it forward again. She had stopped communicating so I waited.

"More," she begged, eyes shut tightly - focusing on the stimulation.

I slowly stroked in and out - across her vulva - pausing each time my cock came to rest on top of her clitoris. When she made a sound, I stroked out and in once again. Soon, she was mewling without me having to hesitate. Her breathing was getting more ragged and I sped up just a little.

She was finally relaxing - and responding.

I held her ankles with my left hand and used my right to shove down on my cock as I pushed each time - especially as the knob brushed across the mouth of her vagina. Every time it bumped across, it got a little easier. Soon, I could tell that she was opening. It wouldn't be long now and she'd be ready.

"Put it in," she moaned.

"Not yet..."

"Yes," she growled.

I released her ankles and she spread her knees wide - welcoming me in. I rocked the tip back and forth across her entrance and it slipped in. Her body spasmed as the shock of it brought her up short. I stopped.

"Push!"

I rocked in and out - but only as far as I had already penetrated. She was getting there - but she was still overthinking it.

"I want it all, dammit!"

I ignored her protestations and focused on using my cock to show her muscles what needed to happen. It was a slow process - made slower by her insistence to keep her mind engaged.

I yanked my cock out and started spanking her slit and clit with my rod. She took a breath to yell at me but it was cut short as her body fell into what I assumed was a normal routine for her. When she came - explosively - I made sure my cock got drenched in her fluids. I quickly lathered it on and shoved my prick back into her pussy. I got half-way inside on the first thrust - and - after a couple more thrusts - I was balls-deep inside of her.

She alternated between calling me names and calling out my name. I pressed her knees against those diamond-cutter nipples and started fucking her like she said she wanted.

She lost the ability to form words and was just gasping for air. I was dropping most of my weight through my cock - directly into her cunt - again and again. The mattress was collapsing under the pressure - and then pushing us back up each time.

She tried to say, "Fuck", but it came out over about a 30-second period as I continued to punish her pussy. Her channel clenched and she showered my groin in her fluids.

Earlier, she had said she'd wanted to pass out. She was still lucid - so I kept at it.

I scooped my arms under her legs, grabbed the tops of her thighs, and brought her hips up so that I could stand up straight and thrust into her. I started pistoning my cock in and out of her grasping channel as fast as I could. Her head and shoulders slid back and forth across the bedsheet as I pounded her.

Finally, her eyes rolled back into her head and I focused on filling her womb with seed. Hopefully she was on the pill - because I was planning to do my best to fuck a baby into her.

Those exquisitely tiny nipples beckoned and I did my best to slam my cock so deep into her pussy that I could touch the backs of them.

I groaned as my climax swept over me. My cock bucked inside of her churning channel and I began pumping her full of spunk. I pulled her ass as tightly against my ball-sac as I could - and sprayed her womb with my seed.

Keeping her pussy locked around my cock, I rolled onto the bed and pulled her on top of me. My breath was ragged.

My knees hung off of the bed. That part wasn't the most comfortable. However, having this little pixie mounted firmly on my cock felt amazing. If I wasn't already in Heaven, this is how I wanted to die.

Her eyes fluttered and she returned to coherency. When her pupils finally communicated with her brain, she smiled.

God, I loved that smile!

"It took you long enough," she said, giggling. "I thought I was going to die of old age before you got that monster into me."

"It's not that big," I argued, "you were overthinking it - which makes it harder. You need to just relax and go with the flow."

"It worked, didn't it? Or is all of that shit inside of me just from me?"

"Oh, I did my best to knock you up - once you passed out," I assured her.

"Good."

"You on the pill - or am I gonna be a dad?"

"Pill's not a hundred percent," she said, giggling.

Further argument was postponed as she took my face in her hands and proceeded to suck the air from my body using only her lips - and maybe a little tongue.

Ten minutes later, she was snoring.

I slipped out of the bed, grabbed my laptop, and started catching things up. I tried to think of how I was going to end the story. For now, the best I could come up with was that the girl had failed to find Sasquatch - but that the old man had found the muse that he didn't know he'd been looking for all along.

I saved the document, turned off the light, and joined her in bed, pulling the covers over to snuggle against her sexy, lithe frame.

~~~

Morning came and I found myself in bed alone. Sophie's spot was cold. I sniffed the air - thinking maybe she'd decided to cook breakfast again - but I didn't smell anything.

I walked, naked, from her bedroom to find that I was alone. I checked my room. My bags hadn't moved. I looked around her room but found nothing to show she had been there. None of her things were in the bathroom either.

There was half-a-bag of apples in the produce drawer of the refrigerator - but no rabbit. I grabbed my phone and dropped onto the couch. Opening my photos, I found no pictures of Sophie. Nothing. I checked the trash. I went online and checked the files there. Everything was gone.

"How the fuck?!"

I closed the app and stared at my phone. My brain tumbled over the details, trying to make sense of it all.

My eyes settled on the time - and then the date. I'd arrived at the cabin on Monday afternoon. My phone said it was Tuesday morning. How was that possible?! I'd spent a day and a half with Sophie!

For the next two days, I went back over the story I had been writing, filling in the details that I'd missed before - Sophie's slender eyebrows, the way her right eye seemed just a little lazy sometimes, the dark red stork-bite just above her navel - to the left.

Had she only ever worn that one outfit the whole time we had been together? Had I seriously made this girl up? There was no fucking way!

Was it all just a dream? Or had one of my erotica characters actually come to life?

The End.