Tip a Canoe and Taylor Too

by Invid Fan

Copyright© 2011 by Invid Fan

Romantic Sex Story: A man alone on a week long canoe trip, a far distant scream at sunset, and an unknown swimmer crossing the lake at midnight. (there's a brief non-con scene mostly off screen but labeled just to be safe)

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   .

Ah, pissing in the woods at night. How he missed camping.

Fred kept his aim at the base of the tree, and looked up into the night sky. He couldn't see much through the branches and leaves, but thought he saw a piece of the little dipper. No, wait, he was looking at the wrong part of the sky. If only Lisa...

He closed his eyes and lowered his head. Wrong thought.

The entire point of this, after all, was to ... well, he hadn't figured that out yet. Sighing, Fred opened his eyes again and stared at the tree bark in front of him as his yellow stream slowly petered out. He missed Lisa. It hadn't been three weeks yet, but the throbbing pain of her loss already felt like it had been a part of him for a lifetime. And it would be there for the rest of his.

Well, at least the midnight pissing was over for the evening. He gave his dick a couple shakes, then stuck it back into his underwear. Time to stumble back to the tent and get some sleep. Fred glanced around, his night vision once again confirming what an awesome camp site he had chosen. It had looked interesting on the map, as he had studied his possible options before setting out alone on the week long canoe trip into the rivers and lakes of the state park. A 40 yard outcrop into a long, winding lake, as he had approached after a long day's paddling the 12 year old in him had practically leaped for joy. With the six foot high cliffs around it, apart from the small landing beach and path up to a small clearing, it looked like a perfect place for a fort. Drag over logs to create a battlement and he could defend it from all takers! Bwahahahaha!

Smiling, he started to move ... when he heard the splash. It was to the right, the opposite side from his beached canoe ... there was another splash, and another ... someone, or something ... was swimming out there. Or at least that's what it sounded like. Sound carried, so it probably wasn't that close. But, it was past midnight. Who, or what would be out on the lake? Maybe a bear, making its way across? He gripped his flashlight, which he hadn't bothered using on this late night excursion, testing its heft. OK, that wasn't a good plan.

What if it was a person? Who would be swimming ... towards him. It seemed to get slightly louder, although there were pauses in the sound so it was hard to compare the splashes. Almost like someone was resting.

Fred suddenly felt a chill not due to the night air go through his underwear clad body. There had been that scream. He had been in the middle of dinner, and it had sounded like a woman was REALLY having fun somewhere far over the lake.

Or was in horrible pain. The faint scream hadn't been repeated. But ... what if what he was hearing now, was the victim, fleeing, or the murderer...

Or it could just be a bear. Oh, what cheery options Fred's half asleep mind was presenting to him. He'd best have a look. Carefully, ever so glad he had at least put his sneakers on for this piss break, he made his way through the sparse trees towards the water's edge. He kept the light off, out of paranoia, and because he could see well enough regardless. The moon was up and half full, giving more than enough light. One stubbed toe later his feet came to the edge of the southern drop down to the lake. He grabbed on to a tree that rose up next to him, and looked out.

There was someone maybe a hundred yards away in the water.

Tightening his grip, Fred leaned out and tried to make out details. They had a life vest on, that was certain. Looked like long hair, but that was hard to judge. And, anyway, serial killers could have long hair. Fred shook his head to get that thought out of there. This was serious. He/she wasn't swimming directly for his camp site, but someplace farther to the left. And they were tired. He could tell that at once. They had been out there a long time, and were in bad shape.

Fred raised his gaze and swept it over the lake. He didn't see a capsized boat anywhere behind the mystery swimmer, or anyone else. He thought again of that single scream. If someone was fleeing for their life, they might try something as insane as crossing the lake. He had to do something. Something to draw their attention, but take into account they might not want to be found by certain people (and might be half asleep and scared to death). Looking down, he saw a straight seven foot drop onto jagged rocks, but to the left was a slightly more gentle way down with hand holds, and a foot of shore before the water's edge. Quickly moving over, he gave his hasty plan one more review then turned on his light.

He aimed the beam just ahead of the swimmer's head, then quickly turned it off. The splashing stopped, and he thought he saw the dark blob on the lake turn towards him. He flashed the light two more times, then aimed the beam down at a spot below his feet and left it on. If they wanted help, there was the beacon.

There was silence for 10 seconds, then the splashing resumed (with more vigor he thought) and the shape started moving towards him. OK, time for phase two.

Leaving the flashlight wedged into some branches still aimed at the landing zone, Fred raced through the dark to the campsite. It was only maybe 30 yards away, but he had no idea how much time he had. Obviously he could have taken his canoe out to try a rescue, but trying to pull someone in who might not be able to help that much (or want to help) would just result in both of them in the drink most likely. They'd just have to make it in on their own.

As he reached the clearing he stopped for a second to take stock. The fire pit still had some smoke rising, so he quickly stirred up the coals and tossed some dry logs on it. He'd need not just fire to warm them but hot drink. Fred emptied one of the water jugs into a pot, covered it and tossed it over the fire which was starting to come to life. Then, into the three man dome tent he had used since scouts. Flipping on the spare flashlight, he quickly put on a shirt and some pants so he wasn't approaching them like a potential rapist, grabbed two dry bath towels, then out again running back to the swimmer.

The mystery guest was barely 20 yards away. Fred half slid down to the water, his sudden appearance causing them to momentarily pause before continuing in. About ten feet away, their feet must have found the bottom because she stood up and staggered the remaining distance.

She was thin. Bone thin. Not exactly anorexic, at least at first glance, but most likely he'd be able to count ribs once the life vest was off. She was also short. As she came ashore she half threw herself and half fell into him, her head barely coming up to his nipples as she held on to his six foot frame for dear life. He held the towels in one hand while the other went up to caress her wet head, her soaking body pressing against him.

"Shhh, it's OK ... you're going to be OK." He put his other arm around her for a moment, then gently pushed her back slightly. She didn't resist. He sensed all her resistance was gone. "I'm going to remove your life jacket, then wrap you in some dry towels and take you to a nice warm fire. OK?" He saw her nod, and quickly before she started to interpret this as something unwontedly sexual he worked to pop the fasteners open and let the life vest fall to the ground.

She was wearing a bikini, probably dark blue, sexy while not being slutty. He was right about the ribs, but it was clear this was her natural weight. She almost looked 12 but the swell of her hips and the nicely proportioned breasts marked her as at least a teen. The haunted look in her eyes made her an adult. Fred wrapped the first towel around her, sweeping her long brown hair up so it fell outside the towel falling almost to her hips. Her hands clutched at the ends as he used the other towel to dry her face and hair, the cool night air starting to cause her to shiver.

"It's OK ... we're going to go to the fire now. We have to climb up this little hill here, then it's about a minute walk to camp. You'll have to use your hands to grab things on the way up, but I'll be right behind to hold you if you need me. Wait..." Fred thought about the logistics for a second. " ... OK, I'll have to hold the towel as you climb as it'll just fall off anyway." She nodded, and let go as he took it back. He leaned down to also grab the life vest (no sense leaving evidence of where she landed) then gave her a slight push in the small of her back with his towel covered hand towards the path up. She still had some strength left, as she easily pulled herself up to the top. A moment later he was beside her, the trip having been a bit difficult with his hands full. He added to that load by grabbing the flashlight, then once again put a towel around her. They had barely taken two steps when she cried out, jumping back against him with one bare foot raised in pain. Cursing, Fred decided his back had enjoyed the easy life long enough and scooped the girl up in his arms. She was light, but he was tired and he let out another curse. Her arms went around his neck, easing things somewhat, and they made their way like that to camp.


Dumping the girl in the camping chair by the fire, Fred checked the pot. The water was somewhat close to boiling, which was close enough. He grabbed a mug, poured in a packet of hot chocolate, then added water and handed it to her. She clutched at it, her body shaking, and took a short sip. Then a longer one. Her eyes closed, and her whole body began to relax. Nothing like some Swiss Miss to calm you down and remind you of happier times. Fred poured his own cup, took a drink, then knelt down beside her. He put a hand on her towel covered knee, and she opened her eyes and looked at him.

"My name's Fred," he said.

"Taylor." Her voice was weak, but the woman behind it was strong. Her eyes met his, and she gave a sad smile. "Thank you."

"Oh, you're welcome. You're just lucky I have a weak bladder." He smiled back at her, then gave her knee a squeeze. "Most of this can wait till morning, as I can tell you're about ready to collapse, but I need to know a couple things now." Her smile faded, but she nodded. "First, did your boat tip or something? Is there someone else in the water who needs to be rescued?"

Taylor shook her head, looking down at her hands.

"Was that scream a few hours ago you?"

Her eyes shot up to meet his, her mouth agape.

"I'll take that as a yes. It's OK. You're safe. If you're not hurt, we'll deal with it in the morning." Taylor hunched her shoulders and took a long swig of the hot chocolate.

"I'm OK."

"I know you're not, but what you need most is sleep."

Fred put his mug down, stood, and went to the tent. Reaching inside he pulled out his sleeping bag and tossed it down on a somewhat clear space on the other side of the fire.

"You can have the tent. There's a mattress and a pillow, and one blanket as well as another big towel I think. Feel free to raid my back pack for a shirt or something to wear so you can get out of that wet bathing suit." Fred sat down on the sleeping bag, and gave a big yawn.

Taylor looked up at him for a few moments, various confused thoughts going through her head. In the end she put down the mug, grabbed the flashlight, and still clutching the towel around her went over to the tent and bent down to enter. Once inside the flashlight clicked on and the tent zipped shut.

Fred let out his breath and put a hand to his temple. He didn't need this. OK, a half naked woman falling into his camp could be seen as the gods rewarding him after taking Lisa away, but right now he just wanted sleep. He stood and moved the sleeping bag a bit, getting it off a rock, then sat down again and took off his sneakers and socks. He looked over at the tent, which was far enough from the fire to be encased in darkness. The light inside glowed brightly, and he could see the shadow of the girl behind the green nylon as she ... removed her bathing suit, and stretched.

"Oh, Lisa ... what am I going to do."


Taylor opened her eyes and saw green.

It was a sort of mid range green, with light coming through it. She contemplated the color, and the various light shadows that played across her vision. Slowly, much slower than it should, a thought worked its way up to the front of her attention: Where the fuck am I?

She sat up, causing the blue thin blanket to fall off her chest and into her lap. She was in a tent. That was obvious. It was a round dome, big enough for three sleeping bags it looked like. At the moment there was the inflatable mattress she was on, which seemed built for two, a backpack to her left with scattered clothing around it, and some books and her wet bathing suit next to her on the right. Seeing the bathing suit caused Taylor to look down and notice that she was wearing an oversized black t-shirt. Pulling out the front, besides confirming it was all she was wearing, showed it had a Buffalo Sabres logo. Letting go, she closed her eyes and thought.

"Oh, shit ... that happened." There were times when the young woman had hoped it was all a dream. That she would wake up and be back in her apartment, this stupid camping trip still a few days in the future or just a silly fantasy. But, no ... that had really happened, and she had really run away ... well, swum away, as if that could ever solve anything. At least she was away from there. But, how would she face them at work, and where was here anyway? For the first time she noticed the sound of movement outside, and thought she smelled bacon. Food ... quickly, like the little girl she was so often mistaken for, Taylor scrambled onto her hands and knees and crawled to the tent opening. Unzipping it a bit, she looked out.

He was sitting on a log next to the fire, giving her a look at his profile as he used a long fork to turn over some bacon in a pan over the flames. He was tall, she remembered that, maybe six foot. Brown hair cut short, which strangely was grey around the temples. He didn't seem to be that old, maybe 30. Average build, if a little over weight. But strong ... Taylor had alternated over her life between wanting to be in charge and showing the world she could take it on regardless of her size, and just wanting a hulking man to take her. The last had caused most of her dating problems, as the jerks she found couldn't handle it when the self reliant part of her came to the fore. But last night, when he carried her ... Taylor shivered. He hadn't been dominating her. He had been ... taking care of her. That was new.

"Bacon is ready." Taylor jumped at the sound of his voice, then cursed as her left leg landed on a loose sock and slipped out from under her. Getting back up she looked out her peek hole again and saw Fred looking back at her, a smile on his face and in his eyes. Those eyes ... She snapped her attention back when he kept speaking. "There's a 'bathroom' over to the left a ways, if you need it. Pancakes will be up in a few minutes." Taylor quickly unzipped the door the rest of the way, and started crawling out. Looking up she saw Fred continuing to look down at her with a raised eyebrow, then laughing he turned his head back to his cooking. Looking down, Taylor realized the neck of her shirt hung down giving him a clear view of all her naughty bits. After a moment's pause she laughed herself and continued out. They WERE very nice naughty bits, so it was OK.

The last of the bacon was gone. Fred was eating the last of his three pancakes, while Taylor took a finger and gathered up the remaining syrup hiding on her plate. REAL maple syrup ... god, it made the stuff she had grown up on taste like water. He had warned her that she didn't need all that much, and he had been right. Nectar like that was best savored in small amounts. Had to be unhealthy as hell, but she didn't care. First shopping trip once she got home was going to find her looking for a bottle of this stuff.

Finishing, Fred put his plate down on the small folding table set up between them and took a swig of his orange drink. Giving a sigh, he leaned forward with the glass held in both hands between his knees. Looking at her, he started.

"There are some things I need to know now, some that can wait if you'd like, and the rest I don't mind if you keep to yourself. Some things are going to have to be done as soon as possible." Taylor nodded, taking her own swig. Tang ... never thought she'd be drinking Tang.

"First ... is someone after you?"

Taylor took another drink.

"No."

"Were you attacked?"

She lowered her head. Was she attacked? Could you call it that?

"Raped?" Taylor looked up at Fred, eyes widening. It had been, hadn't it?

"Y-yes."

"By people you know? Did you come camping with them?"

"Yes." Stronger now.

"Do you want to tell me?"

"I ... think I have to."


The guy was a hunk. Her first day on the job and already she had her eyes on him. The cut body, the eyes that didn't so much undress her but ask why the hell she hadn't done it herself already, and he actually could hold a job. The last had become a new requirement of Taylor. She might only be 23, but she had come to the realization that failure to stay employed indicated a guy wasn't going to stay faithful to her for long. She wanted a stud who could handle commitment. And, after a month working customer service at the supermarket she still got wet whenever Jim from produce walked by. Oh, sure, he flirted with everyone, from the teen cashiers to that skank Beth but he obviously was into her. So, when he asked her out on a weekend canoe camping trip she jumped at it, almost jumping him right then and there! Oh, she wouldn't be alone with him- his bud Rod and that Asian girl from produce Wendi would be along too, but they were OK. And she knew it would probably end up as one big orgy. But she would first get her hands on Jim and his cock into her, staking her claim, then let go and enjoy. It was a plan.

Things started to go wrong right from the start. They had two canoes, and despite her flirting protests Taylor got stuck in one with Rod. It wasn't that he wasn't also hunky, and always seemed to be coming on to her, but she wanted Jim. The only consolation was that seated in the front she had a great view of Jim's back as he paddled the lead canoe. Rod kept up a running commentary, but she didn't listen.

The site they picked was father in than she'd expected, and despite not doing all that much of the paddling her shoulders ached as she climbed out. It seemed the others had used this site before, as their large tent fit perfectly into a patch of dirt near the tree line and they quickly had everything set up. Not really in her element, Taylor just tried to keep out of the way while not looking useless. After a dinner of grilled hamburgers and potato chips the beer came out and all was well.

The sun was setting, the beer was flowing, and Taylor decided to make her move. She was sitting on a big log between Rod and Jim, and finishing her third can she put it down and turned towards Jim.

He had his hands under that bitch Wendi's bikini top, and was kissing her neck as her own hands were making their way down his bare chest.

What the HELL! He had invited HER! Oh, sure, it seemed all day she had been paired with Rod, but ... slowly, she turned to her right to look at the other male there. Rod had put his own beer down and slid up next to her, putting an arm around Taylor and drawing her against him.

"Shall we?"

"Hell no!" She may have shouted, but she definitely pushed. He was strong, though, not forcing her but definitely restraining the small woman with amusement on his face. Oh, god ... this was why they had invited her. And she came. They'd assume she was willing. Suddenly Taylor felt hands grab her arms and force them above her head. She looked up to see Jim holding them and grinning down at her drunkenly. She saw a nude Wendi pulling down his shorts and taking his cock into her mouth ... and then she felt a large object push past her bikini bottoms and up into her in one thrust. Taylor screamed.

 
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