Tip a Canoe and Taylor Too

by Invid Fan

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

Desc: 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)

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.

.... There is more of this story ...

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Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual /