Night of the Sasquatch

It had been a long time since the University had agreed to fund an expedition like this, but a recent rash of sightings in the area had prompted a resurgence of interest in the creature and a sizable donation to the University, on the condition that at least 75% be used to fund a search for it. Kate knew perfectly well that, to the school, that 75% was a write-off, but the remaining 25% justified the trouble. She'd lobbied very hard to be the one sent on the expedition, and while her professors didn't fully understand her interest in what most of them dismissed as a wild goose chase, they also knew she was probably the only grad student who would at least try to look like she was taking the search seriously.

And Kate Garland took it very seriously. She had always been fascinated by the Sasquatch legend. As a girl, she'd owned a big book on unsolved mysteries, with chapters on the Sasquatch, the Yeti, Ogopogo, Nessie, the Mothman, the Jersey Devil, and others. She'd been intrigued by all of them, but Sasquatch was her favourite. Like her, it lived in BC, but as a land-dwelling humanoid, it had more personality and relatability than a lake monster like Ogopogo.

She believed it was real. Even her most skeptical professors were impressed by the depth of her research to corroborate this idea, her proposal that the Sasquatch and Yeti were more man than ape, probably the descendents of Homo heidelbergensis or Homo denisova, or, more likely, a hybrid of the two, grown to gigantic size. She had traced the entire spread of the creatures through the Levant and up the central Asian steppe, into the Himalayas, across the Beringian landbridge and into North America. She'd provided plausible arguments in the local human DNA pools, the hominid fossil record, and of course, the folklore. Her professors might not share her belief, but they had a hard time dismissing it as mere antiscientific fancy.

So the university had paid for her to rent a small cottage deep in a remote valley in the Cascadian Mountains, not far from where the latest sightings had been, but the nearest road had closed, and it was a long hike from where the bus had dropped her off. All her equipment and supplies she would need to carry with her, making the hike even longer and more grueling, and she couldn't wait to be inside and enjoying a long hot bath, no matter how dingy the inside of the cottage was.

The undergrowth was thick here, but more than that, it was laced with fallen branches and larger limbs, until all of that suddenly gave off a few hundred metres up ahead, where a soft, squelchy mud covered the ground. It didn't look too deep, and she had on a good pair of boots, so she wasn't worried, but then, suddenly, she noticed something in the mud. It looked like a footprint!

She got closer. It was definitely a humanoid footprint, distinct and very fresh, but also - and this was the exciting part - about fourteen inches long.

"My God," she whispered. A Sasquatch print! She pulled her phone from her pocket and took a quick barrage of photos.

She stopped to listen to the forest now. Perhaps whoever or whatever made this print wasn't far off? She crouched and waited, but there was no sound except a few birds and the buzzing mosquitoes, no smell except the mud and her own sweat, no apparent sign of a gigantic hairy humanoid, and before long, she gave up and continued hiking to the cottage.

"After all," she said out loud (Kate often spoke to herself when she was alone) "finding a footprint already is a very good sign." That thought, that sunny optimism, made the rest of the hike feel like it was nothing.

The cottage was surprisingly nice given its remote location. She was able to get hot running water, and took a long, relaxing bath. After she got out, she wrapped herself in a towel and started to unpack her stuff. Clothes, dried food, basic toiletries. Probably the most important thing was the small satellite dish that would grant her internet access. She wondered, for a moment, whether to bother getting dressed before heading outside. Surely there was nobody around, and even the mosquitoes had died out pretty sharply as she moved away from the swamp.

"Fuck it," she said, and walked outside wearing nothing but a towel.

Fresh out of the tub, Kate Garland was truly stunning. She was a tall girl, curvaceous, wide hipped, and busty, with long brown hair she wore in neat bangs, framing a wide, clear-skinned face. Bright green eyes, a pretty nose, and a wide, heart-melting smile with the cutest dimples you could imagine.

She took a moment to set up the satellite dish, modem, and router, granting her a limited WiFi signal across the cottage. She set up a few sensors around the perimeter, that would notify her if anything human-sized or larger was approaching. The sun felt great on her bare skin, and there were no mosquitoes this high up the hill, away from the standing water. She took a moment to appreciate the beautiful scenery around her, the view down the mountain into an endless forest of pine trees, orange in the setting sun.

Just as she was setting up the last of the sensors, she heard a sort of snuffling sound from a ways' off. When she turned to see what it was, she was so shocked that her towel fell right off, leaving her standing naked in the evening breeze.

About a hundred and fifty metres away, at a natural clearing in the foliage, stood an enormous manlike creature, easily seven feet tall, a shaggy silhouette against the orange sky. Kate reached for her phone only to remember that she'd left it in her pants pocket, inside the cottage. Before she could even consider whether to go in for it, the creature loped back off into the woods. As it walked, she noticed something the keychains and posters and action figures had left out, something you couldn't see in that iconic silhouette from the Patterson-Gimlin film.

"Wow, Bigfoot is hung like a champ."

Kate felt strangely uncomfortable even acknowledging that she'd seen his enormous dick, but in the moment, found it strangely erotic. A half-forgotten fantasy from her youth resurfaced, an aspect of her lifelong fascination with the Sasquatch she thought she'd outgrown: some girls have their sexual awakening as a result of David Bowie's pants in Labyrinth. Kate had hers while watching Harry and the Hendersons.

Almost without thinking, she started to follow after him. The grass was soft on her bare feet, but as she moved into the woods, the fallen needles of the pines trees began to get prickly. She didn't care. She had to see this creature up close, even if she didn't have her camera. She kept walking in the direction he had gone, until finally, she saw him again, in a field of tall grass up ahead. He was staring right at her.

Kate gulped, afraid for a moment that the Sasquatch would turn aggressive. If she were wounded out here there would be no one to help her. Even if she got to her phone there'd be about a day waiting for anyone to arrive. She held out her arms, palms forward, remembering her bear training and deciding to give that a try.

"It's okay, big guy," she said, slowly and calmly. "I'm not going to hurt you."

She took a step back. Bigfoot stepped forward. His feet really were enormous, she thought.

The creature seemed to calm down now, like he understood she wasn't a threat, couldn't hurt him if she wanted to. She walked out of the edge of the forest now, to where the tall grass of the meadow swished against her naked legs Now he was curious, perhaps at her apparent absence of fear, and he approached, slowly, sniffing at her, a hand out in front of him almost as if to ask if it was okay to approach. Kate didn't retreat.

"I have to earn this creature's trust if I'm going to study him," she mumbled to herself, but she realized she was already thinking of him as a him, rather than an it.

He laid a massive hand on her shoulder, touching her hair. His hand was surprisingly soft, like old leather. She remembered reading that he was supposed to smell bad, but he really didn't. There was, now that she thought about it, a distinct odour, but it wasn't unpleasant. He smelled like pine, like fresh air and long grass, like the lions at the zoo. It was a smell that got up her nose, almost with a spice to it. She breathed it in deeply, feeling her breasts rise and fall in this sensual moment. Now Kate lifted up her own hand and laid it on the Sasquatch's shoulder, well above her head, feeling that this was the appropriate way to reciprocate his gesture of trust. It seemed to be working. His hair was lighter and coarser on top with a thicker, softer undercoat. She looked at his face now. There was a quiet, simian dignity to it, but it was also strikingly human, she thought. Very human. Handsome, even...

His hand lowered from her shoulder now, no longer in a gesture of communication but in a probing motion. He hovered over her breast, and made a loud grunting sound, a questioning look in his eye.

Kate smiled. "You understand consent, don't you, big guy?" She took his enormous hand in both of hers, softly, and pulled it to her chest, feeling his curious fingers against her naked skin as his long fingers caressed her breast. It thrilled her, both on a scientific and a sexual level. He smiled down at her, a comical grin full of enormous teeth.

"We just met and I'm already letting you get to second base," she laughed. But now that she had acknowledged, even in her corny, joking way, the sexual aspect to all this, it become impossible to ignore, and she suddenly realized just how wet she was getting, how hard her nipple was against his palm. The Sasquatch drew her into what seemed almost like a hug, his tree trunk-thick, muscular arms around her, in a gesture that felt protective without being constricting. She understood she could leave if she wanted to, but she didn't want to. And now she felt his erect cock against her thigh, hard and long as a lead pipe.

She smiled at him, beautiful dimples on full display. Time to stop making excuses, she thought. Time to stop pretending this was less than it was, that she didn't want him.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," she murmured. She hugged him back now, pushing her tits firmly against his warm coat and taking a hold of his cock. It was at least nine inches long, and pretty hairy, but otherwise, more or less the same shape as a man's. His eyes widened as she gripped him, but he didn't seem upset. He leaned in toward her, sniffing her face, raining what felt like tiny, wet kisses over her. It tickled, and she laughed again, giving his immense cock a gentle squeeze. He gave a hoot of pleasure, before moving his hands down to her sides now. She understood what he was trying to say.

She moved as he guided her, onto her hands and knees. Face down, ass up. She giggled again, at the absurdity of it all.

"Bigfoot's real and I'm about to fuck him," she laughed. "Sure, why not?"

But her laughter soon died as he entered her, pushing all the air from her lungs in a mighty gasp. He was slowly feeding that monster cock into Kate's wet vagina, opening her up like she'd never been opened.

"Gosh," she whispered.

He was so gentle, yet so huge, she knew that if it were humanly possible to take this cock, she could do it now, and she was confident she could. She felt his big leathery hands against the plump cheeks of her wide ass as his thick, hairy dick slid deeper and deeper into her. She began to think it would go on forever when he finally stopped, and she felt his baseball-sized testicles bat against her clit.

"Fu-u-u-u-u-uck," she moaned, feeling his entire, staggering length and girth, before he quickly slid right out and pushed back in.

Kate cried out in pleasure as the man-beast ravaged her dripping pussy, gradually picking up the pace and driving her into the grass with every thrust. She was pushing back to meet him but he was so strong, she had to brace herself against the ground with her forearms to keep from being shoved away. He continued to grunt and hoot happily as he gave her the fuck of a lifetime right there in the tall grass, and Kate cried out with every titanic thrust of his monstrous rod.

"After... all..." she panted, repeating her earlier justification at a staccato beat in time with the fucking, "I... have to... earn this... creature's... trust... if I'm... going to... study him..." She was really getting into the rhythm now, the pulse of their copulation. She stole a look back at him, over her shoulder, a broad smile on her face as they locked eyes. "And a... sperm... sample... would really... help my... research..."

She had a big dopey grin on her face as her first orgasm struck, reveling in both the absurdity of the situation and the passion of their coupling. She came harder than she ever had in her life, vocalizing her pleasure in a cross between scream and hysterical laughter.

As Kate's orgasm subsided, she realized that her monstrous lover was still going strong, his pace neither slowing nor speeding.

"How much... longer... can you... go... Mister... Sasquatch?" she grunted, turning her head to look back at him. He still had that big toothy smile, and she couldn't resist grinning back at that big goofy face. She would be in for quite a night, she realized.

After what seemed like hours, and at least three more orgasms, when Kate was just starting to feel sore, she finally felt a change in his fucking. He was starting to speed up, getting rougher and looser but pushing, if anything, deeper into her cunt.

"Getting... close?" she cried. "I could... come... one last... time... I think..."

She felt a sudden wetness at her butthole, and turned back to see. Her lover had wet his thumb with his own thick, slippery saliva, and was slowly but determinedly inserting the thick digit up Kate's ass. She didn't fight it.

"Oh... Mister Sasquatch..." she grunted between thrusts. "You know... how I... like it!" His fat thumb slid past her muscular anal ring and into her sensitive rectum. "Oh, yes! Yes!" she cried. "Stick that... thumb... right up... my... pooper... while you... FU-U-U-U-U-U-UCK ME-E-E-E-E!"

The double pressure at both her cunt and her butthole was too much for Kate to bear, and her words turned into a long, steady scream of delight as her final orgasm of the night wracked her body.

The Sasquatch, too, was bucking in irresistible pleasure, howling, drooling that lubricating spittle all over her back where it mingled with her sweat in the evening air, and she felt his hot wet spunk shoot out of his big tool so hard she was afraid she would be blown off him like a bottle rocket. She wasn't, but his thrusts finally slowed before stopping altogether. She felt his hands give her bum an affectionate squeeze as his withdrew his thumb with a popping sound. Kate giggled at the sensation. Now his deflating cock was pulling out of her well-fucked cunt, though she could still feel his warm seed within her, running down her thigh in a hot, viscous stream.

"That was amazing," she gasped, flopping onto her belly on the flattened grass.

She lay there in a daze, unbelieving. Her research was already a success on the first night, and an adolescent sexual fantasy finally - against all odds - fulfilled! And she still had another week up here with her marvelous new lover.

He extended a big leathery hand to her wrist, pulling her up to her feet, but she could barely stand.

"Oh, Mister Sasquatch," she whined. "I don't know if I can walk back to the cottage."

He seemed to understand, and lifted her easily off the ground. She was too weak to protest as he moved to cradle her in his arms, that iconic B movie poster image of the monster and the semi-conscious woman being carried away. As he began to walk, she kissed him on the cheek and twirled her fingers in the thick hair around his big dumb face.

"You're a real gentleman," she whispered to him, and he seemed to smile, holding her tight to him.

After a short walk, she saw the lights of her cottage swim up through the trees. It was fully dark out now, those lights and the distant stars the only sources of illumination for miles around. He set her down by the front steps, near the discarded towel, helping her awkwardly to her feet. She put her arms around him for a final embrace, even trying to kiss him on the lips, though he didn't seem to understand the concept.

"Come back tomorrow, okay?" she whispered.

He grunted happily, but that could mean anything, and he disappeared into the gloom.

Kate was having trouble keeping her eyes open, but she knew there were a few things she had to do before going to sleep. She found a few of the creature's hairs on her back and around her nethers, which she carefully placed in a collecting envelope, and she stuck a finger into her vagina, scooping out a blob of sperm. It felt much heavier and stickier than a man's, she thought, and gave it a little lick.

"Not bad at all," she said to herself. "But we need this cum for science." She scraped it off her finger into a collecting jar and put it in the refrigerator.

As she turned out the lights of the cottage, and lay down, exhausted, on her bed, her cunt still full of his leftover sperm, she wondered, idly, if she should worry about pregnancy. How close was his species, genetically, to humans? She'd worry about that when she got back to civilization, she thought. Buy one of those sticks to pee on. Through her bedroom window, she could see the stars, brighter than she'd ever seen them, free from the light pollution of the city.

It was clear that he could not, or would not, come inside her cottage. She could not sleep out in the woods with him, wherever he made his lair. Whatever genetics might say, they were of two different worlds. All they would have was this tiny moment of a week together, up in these mountains.

She hoped that he'd be back tomorrow.