Something In The Woods

Author’s Note: I don’t profess to be an expert on a creature that may or may not even exist. Some of the things you’ll read in this story have been read, watched, and listened to online by me (the Ohio howls for example). On the other hand, some of the things in this story are from my imagination. So please don’t be upset if certain “facts” are inaccurate.
Also, please be aware, this is a longer story where the sex happens much later.

Editing thanks go to Todger65.



Something In The Woods

Chapter 1

There it was again. A faint, yet clearly recognizable “whoop” sound followed by three quick knocks against wood. It sounded like someone hit a large tree trunk with a baseball bat. But it wasn’t a person, it couldn’t be. Why would it be? It was 2 am on a Saturday morning in northern Oregon near Mt Hood National Forest. Rich sat on his back porch; wide awake on his small, secluded, home and farm he inherited three years ago shortly after graduating from college. He just completed a huge project for the software engineering firm he works for remotely and decided to have a few beers and enjoy the cool August night air.

Rich had been hearing these sounds with increasing frequency. He didn’t know how far away they were, but he guessed within a range of a quarter mile to one mile. The three wood knocks he just heard sounded pretty close.

Several times within the past few months Rich would be woken in the middle of the night by “whoops,” knocks, and the always eerie, howls. He’d lay awake in bed listening and trying to figure out the source. It wasn’t a moose, or a deer, and there’s no way a bear would make a “whoop” sound or howl out like that. He thought it might be a coyote or a barred owl. However, some of the howls were long, labored moans out into the night air. They sounded slightly deeper in pitch than a coyote howl and lasted longer too. Then one evening he heard the knocks after a howl.

It sounded like something was banging against a tree with another piece of wood. To hold an object and do that, one would need hands and opposable thumbs. Rich thought about campers - people out there in the nature preserve. Camping wasn’t allowed there and why would a person bang a limb up against a tree in the middle of the night after making a howling or “whoop” sound? Over the next few weeks he’d often go out on his back porch, sitting there in the darkness staring out into the forest that bordered his property, listening carefully.
In August the activity really picked up. Four times a week he’d hear sounds that he couldn’t explain, coming from something he was unfamiliar with. This particular night in August, the “whoop” sound seemed very close – 300 yards. He’d heard it before and could easily imitate it, but never this close to his property. He took a swig of beer and decided to be brave. After the third knock Rich whooped back. It wasn’t as loud or as powerful as whatever made the sound, but it sounded almost the same. “Maybe it is a person out there. But why?” he thought.

After about 30 seconds Rich heard it again. It was slightly closer this time. Rich paused then whooped back. No response. He waited several minutes and after he took one last swallow of his beer he got up to go inside. Just as he turned to enter his home he heard another whoop call. It was much closer this time, maybe 100 yards. With his eyes open wide and any sort of buzz his beer may have given him extinguished, he crept down on the floor, peeking over the railing of the porch. He whooped again and giggled a bit at the excitement. “Was it some dumb, drunk, teenager out there screwing around? If so, I’ll have a little fun,” he thought.

Rich, peering out to his dark backyard, with only the light of the full moon and stars to illuminate the tree line where the forest began about 20 yards away, watched and waited. After several minutes, he chuckled at himself and started to stand, when he heard a whistle. It wasn’t a bird, or coyote, but it sounded like a whistle a person can make. “Ok, I see, some dumb kid or homeless person out there, maybe high on meth or shrooms,” he smirked and thought to himself. He decided to whistle back. It was exactly like the one he heard; a simple, quick whistle one might use to tell their dog to come as they patted their leg.

“I wonder if I should call the police? I’m pretty sure this person is trespassing on nature reserve property,” he thought as he watched the tree line and listened for a response. “Any second he’ll stumble out of the woods there and I’ll see him in the moon light.”

He was picturing a young guy, maybe a drifter, limping and stumbling out of the woods high on who knows what. Rich shook his head at the image in his mind and rolled his eyes. He watched and waited and waited. Nothing. It was at this point that he noticed the insects were quiet. No crickets were chirping; there wasn’t any night time sounds at all for some reason. He wondered how long it had been quiet. Perhaps in his slightly buzzed state he didn’t noticed the lack of night time noises. He reached down to grab his flash light.

“Might as well let him know I’m here and he’s not scaring me,” he thought, reaching for the large flash light he had set on the table earlier in case whatever it was making the sounds showed up in his yard.

Rich stood, shinning the light toward the tree line, adding to the light from the moon. He scanned from the left to the right. “I know you’re out there pal. If you’re gonna trespass, you better be careful, there’s a lot of trigger happy residents in this county. Including me.” he said fairly loudly, his voice echoing off the tree line; the only sound he was hearing in the cool night air. He scanned back and forth, and saw nothing in the flashlight.

“Alright? Got it?” he asked once more as he made another pass of his flash light to the right. Then he saw something that made his heart stop.

“Oh shit!” he exclaimed as he saw a pair of large, yellow, glowing eyes move behind one of the larger trees. It seemed like a split second. He shone his light on them and they must’ve reflected it.

“Nope, not a person, not a person!” Rich quickly turned off the flashlight and moved back inside, locking the door behind him. He went to his bedroom and grabbed his 9mm from the top drawer in his bedside table. He sat on his bed in his darkened room, looking out the window to the tree line, using only the moon light shining on his yard to try to see something – or it, whatever “it” was.

“Was it a bear? Was it a moose? It was watching me, it was peeping around that tree,” he thought. There was something in the woods.
After an hour and no visuals, he was struggling to stay awake. Finally sleep overtook him. He fell asleep in his clothes, loosely clutching his 9mm.




Chapter 2

Several hours later Rich woke up. He placed his gun gently back into the drawer on his bedside table and got up. He showered, shaved, and ate some breakfast. He kept thinking about the early morning hours and decided to go outside and have a look around.

Rich went to the tree that he thought he saw the eyes dart behind. He also went to a few of the trees around that one. He looked on the ground for signs of scat or maybe foot or paw prints. He looked on the tree’s bark to see if any fur had rubbed off or any scratch marks were made, thinking it was a bear; but he saw nothing. If there were signs of whatever that was, they were not easily found. Rich then tried to guess how far the eyes were off the ground. This would help him rule out certain possibilities. He focused on the split second from the early morning hours and tried to recall how far off the ground the glowing eyes appeared. With his 12 foot tape measure, he was able to deduce the eyes height from the ground was at around 6 feet – his height. He immediately thought of a human again, but human eyes don’t have eye shine like that.

Rich shook his head and sighed as he walked back into his house. He spent the next few hours online researching various topics like: strange howls, eye shine, whoops, and wood knocks. To his amusement all these topics led to information websites and testimonial websites about Bigfoot – or Sasquatch. He laughed a little in an attempt to hide his anxiety. “No way; no way that’s a Bigfoot. That crap can’t be real.”

Rich kept researching and reading stories of supposed encounters. These were stories about hunters all across the nation claiming they heard bone-chilling howls or saw large biped creatures out in the woods. He listened to recorded audio from Ohio that sounded almost exactly like the howls he’s heard. He watched a few episodes of a certain TV show where a team goes out in the woods to attempt to find a Bigfoot. Realizing the show was probably scripted and just for entertainment, he searched for other, seemingly more legit researchers. He found a show online which featured one person in the woods, alone, with an audio recorder. The various episodes consisted of this person digitally enhancing the audio with software to make it easier to hear. Rich could hear the “whoops” and wood knocks clearly. He also heard faint voices in this guy’s videos, but shook his head thinking that it was probably some sort of electronic voice phenomena (EVP). The creator of the video insists that they are “people” and not animals, and they talk to him. He had considered buying an audio recorder to record the sounds but figured that was pointless – he did not want to share them with some “researcher” or website. Frustrated and annoyed Rich closed his laptop and stood outside on his back porch.

“This is dumb,” he said aloud looking into his backyard at the tree line.

During Rich’s routine Sunday afternoon grocery shopping, he found himself staring at the produce section. He rolled his eyes and grabbed three packages of a dozen apples.

Later that evening, he ate a light dinner, and ate three apples for a desert of sorts. He threw the leftover apple cores out into the woods, watching them bounce off trees. He retrieved three more apples and instead of eating them, he threw them as hard as he could out into the woods. Unsatisfied, he hurriedly retrieved one of the dozen apple plastic bags he bought and went outside to his backyard near, what he thought, was the tree he saw the eye shine. He chucked a few apples in the woods from that location, and then decided to just dump the remaining six right there on the ground at the edge of his yard. “There, we’ll see how this goes tonight.”

Rich barely slept at all that night. He thought he heard rustling outside his window and got up to look several times and saw nothing. Then on the edge of sleep he thought he heard a whistle or knock, but again, he looked and saw nothing in the moon lit backyard. He finally went to sleep for good around 3 am. The next morning he woke and check his emails, ate some breakfast, then walked around his backyard to inspect the area. He found no apples.

“They could’ve been eaten by deer, or a raccoon, or rats, or rabbits,” he thought to himself.

That evening Rich did the same thing, except this time he dumped some apples in the yard a bit further away from the edge of the woods; closer to his house. The next day they were gone as well. He kept repeating this every night for weeks. The cashier at the grocery store in town must’ve thought he was some sort of apple addict. On a few occasions he threw out leftovers from dinner directly into his back yard. Various things like: small of amounts of pasta, pieces of bread, half eaten corn on the cob, a few green beans that were left, and so on. Every morning all food he had thrown out was gone. For the next month he did this, only occasionally hearing the eerie sounds. Maybe whatever was making the noise stopped because they didn’t want to draw attention to this food source that was found – they wanted the food all to themselves.

In September, Rich would leave apples right near the steps of his back porch. He also started leaving dirty clothes out there at night. He would take them in and wash them the next day. He also started spraying small amounts of his cologne on a few trees at the tree line and on the steps of his porch. Whatever it was, bear, deer, moose, or something else, might get used to his scent. “Maybe,” he thought, “I can get a good look at it during the day. Who knows.”

Every morning for the next month, all the food was gone. He also noticed some of the dirty underwear and shirts he had left out were slightly moved. They weren’t hanging off the railing of his porch, but were on the ground in front of it or moved a few feet away from the porch entirely. Rich thought that either an animal took the clothes in its mouth and moved it, maybe tasting it, or something picked it up and sniffed it and then casually dropped it on the ground. He wanted to get a thermal imager and record it whatever was approaching his house at night to take the food, but he was almost too scared to do this. It’s like he knew, deep down, what it was. Plus he found they were fairly expensive. He was already spending more on groceries as it is.

During his lunch breaks Rich took more walks than usual. He would walk in the woods leaving apples, his dirty clothes, or various leftovers from the previous night. He would look for signs of something, anything, but never found evidence of any kind. On one particularly cold day in October, he was standing next to a creek bed looking down at a small sandy area. He saw something that could’ve been a foot print, but he wasn’t sure. As he crouched down to study it a little more he heard a twig snap. All the birds and insects in the area had gone quiet. He felt his heart rate pick up. He slowly took a deep breath. There was something behind him about 15 feet to his right, up on a small embankment near the creek. He didn’t know what it was, but didn’t turn around to look either. Instead, he slowly stood to his feet, turning to his right just slightly so that whatever was there could see the apple in his hand. He leaned down and placed the apple on the ground in the sand and calmly walked away back toward the house. He didn’t hear anything else after the initial twig snap. The next morning he went back to the creek to find the apple was gone and the depression in the sand that might’ve been a foot print had been covered up. It was as if something deliberately moved sand over top of it with the side of their hand or forearm. Similar looking patterns of pushed sand were all around the area where the apple was. Something was covering its tracks, literally.




Chapter 3

Rich made it back to his home a quarter mile away. He decided to try a new experiment. He would put food out during the day. He’d leave apples around his back yard and a few on the steps of his porch. Rich knew what was watching him in the woods; he knew it had to be a Bigfoot. He wanted to see the creature for himself, but felt as though he should take a more respectable approach. He wasn’t going to buy a bunch of surveillance cameras and mount them all around his property. He figured that the creature would catch on and not feel comfortable with him anymore. The fact that it covered its foot print indicated it was intelligent and didn’t want to be seen. Rich wanted to seem as least threatening as possible. So putting apples and leftover food out during the day was his next plan.

Rich got up the next morning and after breakfast he put a few leftovers out in the back yard. He went to work in his office he had set up in the basement. There are no windows there so he couldn’t exactly see what was going on in the backyard. This didn’t bother him because he felt the Bigfoot would know if he was sitting at a window looking out into the backyard. All he would do is occasionally look out the back porch every few hours to see if the food was still scattered in his yard. He saw no change for most of the day. However, at 6pm, as it was starting to get dark, he looked out into the backyard and didn’t see the few apples he had randomly scattered in his yard. He walked outside to make sure the setting sun wasn’t playing tricks with shadows. He saw no apples or leftover bits of food from the night before. He looked around for hoof prints or scat that may indicate deer or some other animal, but saw nothing. Rich repeated this process every day until Halloween. He would leave food in the yard during the day and it would be gone by night fall. He would leave food out at night and it would be gone by morning.
On the afternoon of October 31st, he was outside in his backyard casually throwing a few grapes and pieces of bread. After a few moments he had a feeling he was being watched. He tried to ignore it and continued to toss pieces of food on the ground. When he got to the steps of his back porch he paused and slowly turned around toward the woods. He didn’t see anything. He took a deep breath, inhaling the cool autumn air and looked upward and to the left slightly. That’s when his peripheral vision picked something up. It was maybe 15 feet away at the corner of the house. Rich didn’t look directly at whatever it was, but could tell something was there, and it was a dark, tall shape. He took a deep breath, turning his head in that direction as naturally as possible. His eyes widened as he saw a large, furry, black mass quickly dart around the corner of his home. He gulped and slowly walked to that corner, his eyes not moving from the part of the wall where the mass was. When he got to the corner he stopped and held his breath. He slowly inched forward so that his toes were peeping around the corner, then he leaned forward, exposing his nose, then his eyes. In his peripheral vision of his left eye he saw the same black mass, except this time it was around the corner leading to the front of his house. He remained still, darting his eyes to its direction. There was definitely something there. It was large and unmoving. He stepped forward, watching it as best he could without turning his head to face it.

Rich slowly continued to take small steps so that he was several feet away from the corner. He looked forward and kept moving his eyes in its direction. He dropped several pieces of bread on the ground. He walked to all the way to his truck parked in the gravel driveway. It was about 20 feet away. Rich stood, looking into the passenger side window. He saw his slightly distorted reflection on the glass, along with the side of his home, and trees in the distance. He saw something else too. Something in the lower left corner of the reflection. It was tall, black, and watching him. He could make out a hand resting on the siding of the wall. He couldn’t make out any facial details in the reflection, but he could see a nose and mouth area. The coloring wasn’t as dark as the rest of it; he wondered if there was no fur there.

Rich didn’t know what to do so he just stood there watching it watch him. It was crouched down slightly with its left hand holding on the corner of the wall to its right. He took a deep breath and let out a short, sharp, whistle. He waited and watched. He few seconds later the figure in the reflection let out a whistle that was nearly identical to his. He whistled again, and it whistled back. Rich slowly moved his hand to his car. He watched the creature in the reflection crouch down lower as if it was expecting Rich to turn around, but he didn’t. Instead, he knocked on the roof of his car three times. To his surprise the figure in the reflecting knocked on the side paneling of his home exactly three times in response.

“Ok this is enough for today,” he thought, not wanting to push his luck. He slowly turned to his right and walked down to the edge of the woods where he threw the remaining grapes. Turning around to walk indoors, he never saw anything peep around that corner. He sat on his sofa looking out window facing the front yard. He saw nothing out there. “Whatever it was, Bigfoot, or something else, it’s not going to hurt me and knows I leave out the food scraps. I have to keep building trust,” he thought.




Chapter 4

The first week in November, Rich purchased and assembled a small shed that he put near the end of his gravel driveway. He had an idea; he was going to stock the shed with all his food scraps and food he purchased from his weekly grocery shopping in town. He would create a little place for this creature to come and eat and maybe even sleep. It was starting to get colder now and he figured this thing in the woods would like some kind of shelter. He’d even set up a little generator in there to keep it heated. Perhaps he’d leave the door to the plastic shed slightly cracked so the Bigfoot could feel there was heat inside.

For two months this worked perfectly. He could see a large trail in the snow coming from the woods to the shed, he saw that all his food scraps were gone, and he even inspected the inside of the shed for clues to further confirm his suspicions of the creature’s identity. The only thing he saw was black fur. It was mostly like hair if anything. It wasn’t too long, or too short. It felt somewhat like a horse’s mane and tail, course and not soft like feline, canine, or human hair. Rich contemplated going into the woods and following the tracks, but felt that may cause issues of trust with the creature. He decided not to interfere other than providing it with a shelter and scraps of food.

Near the end of January Rich started to get impatient. He wanted to see it. On the last Saturday in January he checked the shed for signs of activity and saw nothing. Going inside for the rest of the wintery day, he went to his bed room to read or watch TV, intermittently studying the backyard. He saw nothing, no signs of movement or activity. He assumed it arrived at the shed late at night.
The next day Rich headed to town for groceries. Just as he was about to close his backdoor and head to his truck, he paused, staring down at his key. He glanced over to the open shed, thinking of a new experiment. He was going to leave the door to his house open. He turned off the heater and headed back out to his truck.

While at the grocery store, slowly moving down each isle, he realized he was growing tired of buying extra food for the creature and still not having made contact with it. So he didn’t. He only bought enough for himself. “Screw it,” he thought. He left his door open, perhaps it would figure out that meant he wasn’t home or perhaps it would assume it was safe to enter the house. He didn’t know for sure.

Upon his arrival back at his remote home, he didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. There were no new foot print tracks, the door was still open, and there was no snow tracked inside the house. Rich was in the kitchen, casually putting away the groceries when he felt it; the slight feeling that something was in the house with him and that he was being watched. Slowly closing the refrigerator door, taking a deep breath, he went perfectly still. He heard sniffing. It sounded canine. Then the odor pierced his nostrils. It smelled somewhat like a zoo exhibit. The smell wasn’t too disgusting, but it was certainly strong. He backed away from the refrigerator, walking slowly around the counter. When he turned the corner of the counter his peripheral vision saw something tall and dark. It was hunched over slightly, swaying back and forth. Rich remained still, looking out the back window. He counted to three to himself and quickly turned his head to the dark object. He barely saw it. It was like a dark blur speeding out of his home’s back door. He gave chase, running to his back porch, but saw nothing.

Trembling, with his heart racing, he reentered his home. He closed the door, and then made his way to his bedroom. Glancing out the window for a sight of anything, he sat at on the edge of the mattress.

“This is getting silly,” thinking to himself as he lay on his back. “I’ll leave the door open once more, and that’ll be it. If it doesn’t come inside again, so be it. It’s time to stop this foolishness.”

He woke the next morning, opened his back door, grabbed some toast, turned off the heat, and headed to his basement office. It was cozy and warm down there due to the small space heater he had. He went to work and thought nothing else of it. He assumed nothing would enter his home because his truck was still in the driveway. He took a lunch break, walking around his property, looking for signs of activity. He saw only his own tracks and what might have been other foot prints interlaced with his in the snow. But he wasn’t sure.

When Rich finished his work for the day he closed his back door, and fixed himself a sandwich for dinner. There were no leftovers and nothing set aside for what may be in the woods or the shed. He watched a little TV, took a shower, slowly jacking his cock to thoughts of that new horse trainer at the ranch he passed by on the way to town. He stopped his truck, saying hello to her, learning her name was Denise. That chatted for a few moments; he smiled, and continued on down the gravel road that led to the paved highway.

Sleep came easy for him. He was done with playing games. There was something out there and that was that.

Around 2 am Rich woke up to a loud crashing sound. Shaking the grogginess from his head, laying back down on the mattress, he drifted back to sleep, assuming it was just a dream. He heard another similar sound about an hour later, but again, he assumed it was his mind playing tricks on him in his light sleep state.

Rich overslept, waking up at around 8:45. It wasn’t too late, but later than he liked. He sighed, throwing the covers off, cursing to himself; he climbed out of bed and headed toward the bathroom down the hall. The sun was shining brightly through the windows on that side of the house. Sunbeams came through the bathroom window, illuminating the tile flooring in the hall way. He was shaking his eyes free of morning crust, when he thought he saw a shadow move within the sunbeam emerging from the bathroom door.

Rich crept closer to the bathroom, lightly gliding on floor with his socks, not making a sound. He saw a shadow move again, to the left and right. He paused at the door, stretching up against the wall. He thought he should go grab his gun, but something told him not to. Perhaps it was laziness, or the gut feeling it wasn’t an intruder – at least a human intruder. He peeped around the corner and saw it.




Chapter 5

A tall, dark furred, humanoid shaped creature was silently moving back and forth. It was taking turns shifting its weigh on its left and right feet. Its head was moving with each weight shift, as it was inspecting his bathroom. Rich guessed it was around 6 feet tall, but it was hunched over, with its arms and hands held up close to its body. He could only see the elbows from behind, not its entire arm. Not taking his eyes off the tall, muscular, mass, he quickly reached to the bathroom door, slamming it shut. He saw it turn around and face him, just as he reached for the door. He heard it make a grunting sound as if to yell “no!”

It was trapped in his bathroom, there was no way out. Rich wasn’t sure it could break a window, much less figure out that the window was breakable to begin with. He went to his knees and at the bottom of the door; he saw movement through the crack. It was moving back and forth, sniffing, trying to figure a way out. It must’ve placed a hand on the door as Rich could hear what sound like a person moving their hand quickly across a wooden door. Rich scurried to the kitchen to find food to slide under the door.

Rich returned with a few pieces of turkey and some grapes. He slid them under the small crack between the door and tile flooring. He heard more sniffs and then saw shadowy movement. He also heard what could have been chewing.

His heart was racing, with sweat began to bead up on his forehead, knowing he was going to open that door.

“H-Hello?” Rich struggled to say, not receiving a response. “I’m just going to, uh, open the door. I’m not going to hurt you.” Rolling his eyes at himself, he took a deep breath and slowly turned the door knob.

The creature was terrified. It was crouching down next to the toilet in the corner of the bathroom. Rich saw it heaving, panting, and trembling as it attempted to hide its face. It reminded Rich of a child trying to hide or shield itself from an abusive parent. Rich slowly made his way toward it, speaking soft, gentle tones.

“Hey there. Hi. It’s ok, I’m not going to hurt you. It’s alright.” He said, approaching the poor thing. He held out a piece of turkey. “I’m just going to leave this right here. Ok?” he said, placing the turkey directly in front of the crouching creature. The zoo exhibit odor filled the room. Rich observed its hands as he backed away. The reminded him of chimpanzee hands. In fact so did the fur. He thought it was interesting that it could crouch down like that. This thing wasn’t a super-huge, furry hulk that he had heard about on the internet. It appeared shorter and leaner.

Rich backed out of the bathroom and left the door open. He closed all other doors in the house, including his bedroom. He grabbed his laptop and sat down at the kitchen table. He casually went about his work, pretending that he didn’t have, what must be a Sasquatch in his bathroom. The entire time his heart was pounding, his breathing was difficult to control. But he sat there at his table, pretending like there was nothing out of the ordinary happening in his house. He casually whistled a tune as he worked, ignoring everything he just saw. Hoping this plan would work.

An hour passed with no sounds or movement. Another hour passed with the same results. On the third Rich got up to stretch his legs and placed some turkey in the hallway near the bathroom, then resumed his work.

After lunch Rich sat, continuing on with his day, pretending to be totally oblivious to anything going on around him. It was a slight movement at first; a dark shape darting in and out of his field of vision. Not looking away from his laptop monitor on the kitchen table, he ignored it for awhile. Then he saw it again. It was very brief. Rich could tell something was peeping at him around the corner. After several minutes of acting casual as if he didn’t notice, he saw it once more. The dark shape held its position, unmoving, watching him as he sat at the table.

Looking down to his hands, looking to his keyboard, his monitor, and then turning to his left to look out the kitchen window, Rich ignored it. The dark shape roughly six feet off the ground stay there, peeping around the corner to watch him. Rich took a deep breath and counted to three. On three he glanced at it, then back down to his work in front of him. He saw half a face looking back at him, peeping around the wall. He saw an eye, rounded and not too large, resembling a chimpanzee’s eye. It was black where a human’s is white, and the colored part was light brown. He saw an ear that was lighter in color; it was human-like, but slightly larger. He saw part of a face, cheeks, flattened nose, jaw, and half a mouth with thin or no lips at all. All were lighter in color, a dark tan. The hair was black and somewhat short, framing the face, covering the neck.

Rich almost screamed at the sight. But he remained calm, controlling his breathing, trying not to panic. He had never seen anything like that before. While not scary looking, it was out of the ordinary. He knew this was a special event and wanted to remain as calm as possible. Since all the doors were closed, he knew it wasn’t leaving. He stood, seeing the face withdraw behind the wall. Rich went to the refrigerator, grabbing another piece of turkey, he casually threw it on the floor as he sat down back at the table. It landed in the kitchen a few feet away from the wall.

About three minutes later, he saw a hairy arm reach out and grab the turkey, followed by sniffing sounds. Rich had no idea what to do next. So he got another piece of turkey and repeated this. After a half hour of placing small pieces of leftover turkey every several minutes, Rich had enough, catching up on emails and work, deciding shut his laptop down and relax – or at least try to.

He heard large foot falls in the hallway when he started doing the dishes, not bothering to feed it more scraps. His ears followed the sounds back to that hallway bathroom. Rich assumed the creature felt safe there. Later on he was watching TV and heard nothing, never once feeling a presence behind him or in the living room, never once hearing noise in the kitchen. He shrugged, guessing it was resting in the bathroom.

A few hours later Rich decided to head to bed. He double checked the locks on all the doors, decided not to shower, went to his room, closing and locking the door behind him, and attempted to sleep. It must’ve taken hours. He lay there listening and waiting, hearing nothing. Finally the battle to stay awake was lost, his eyes closing and staying closed a little longer each time they shut. “It’s ok,” was his last thought before he fell asleep.




Chapter 6

A few hours passed and Rich’s eyes shot open in the dark. He instinctually reached for his 9mm next to his bed. He heard movement. It was heavy foot falls down the hallway, followed by a banging sound in the kitchen. He knew exactly what the cause of the sound was. He slowly put his gun back in the drawer, getting out of bed, heading to his door. He unlocked it, turning the knob as slowly and as quietly as possible, hoping to peer out of the cracked door discreetly.

Rich’s bedroom being diagonal to the kitchen afforded him a view into it. He saw the counter, the corner of the table he was sitting at most of the day, a few cabinets, all illuminated by moonlight. Suddenly a bright light, the refrigerator door opening, took him by surprise. What the light shown took him even more by surprise.

Rich saw a tall, dark figure standing in the shadowy kitchen, light from the refrigerator silhouetting it. He gasped when he saw it. Glancing away to control his composure, taking a deep breath, he looked again. He studied it, observing its long arm, and large hand resting on the door handle. Rich shrugged, guessing that kind of door was pretty easy to open – no knobs to turn. He watched it open the door all the way. Something interesting caught his eye. Not only did he see the creature standing at full height, not crouched over, guessing it was close to 7 feet tall, but he saw curvature.

Watching it casually shift its weight, looking into the refrigerator, he saw slight curves in the waist and hip area. Leaving the door open, it opened the freezer, backing away after opening that door, apparently feeling the cold air come out of it. Closing it once more, it looked on top of the refrigerator, easily seeing what nothing was there. Then something else happened that made Rich gasp.

The hairy Sasquatch left the door open and turned to its side, walking toward Rich, looking to the ceiling as if inspecting the room. Rich’s eye’s shot open even wider, seeing the creature’s body silhouetted by the light – it was hourglass shaped with feminine curves.

Rich’s mouth dropped open when he observed it turn to its side once more, raising its hand in the air above its head, touching the 10 foot tall ceiling with ease. The light from the open door showed more curves, this time what appeared to be breasts viewed from the side. Rich gulped, seeing they were quite large. He closed his door silently and sat on the edge of his bed. “Wow,” he thought, thinking the Sasquatch looked like a tall, somewhat muscular woman wearing a skin tight hairy costume of some sort.

“I guess I should give her a name,” he thought to himself, lying back on his bed, a slight smile on his face. His nerves and anxieties of having a Bigfoot trapped in his home fading away. Perhaps it was because he didn’t have a potentially aggressive male in his home. Perhaps it was because his house guest didn’t seem as large or ominous as some of the stories he read about online. Perhaps somewhere in the back of his mind he found that curved silhouette in his kitchen appealing to the eye.

“I wonder if she has a Bigfoot boyfriend somewhere out there in the woods,” Rich chuckled quietly in his bed before falling asleep.

*****

The next morning Rich woke and began his daily work routine, not attempting to find the where she may be hiding or sleeping, not trying to interact with her, not setting any food out for her – since she cleaned out most of the kitchen for him. He sighed, shaking his head, setting out some bread she had not found on the kitchen counter for her to eat.

Opening up his laptop he found a few more videos online. They were clips from documentaries about a famous Bigfoot encounter that was filmed in the late 60s - the Patterson–Gimlin film. He had seen it before several times, but one detail of it stuck out, especially after seeing his guest in better detail the previous night. Analysts, who believe the film wasn’t a hoax, suspect that the Bigfoot in the Patterson-Gimlin footage was a female.

Rich watched several clips of recreations, sculptures, drawings and so on, that show breasts hanging down. If that footage from decades ago wasn’t a hoax and if the Bigfoot was a female, it was much larger than the one in his home. Perhaps his Bigfoot was younger. Some analysts claimed that “Patty” as she was named, was over seven feet tall. Rich’s house guest was just at seven feet, he guessed. Patty was also larger and more muscular, again, making Rich think the one in his home was younger.

He stared blankly at his laptop, unaware he was being watched. She was peeping around the wall at him once again, waiting for him get food for her. Rich didn’t notice this, closing his laptop, grabbing his keys, locking the door behind him and leaving, thinking about what to name her.

He rolled his eyes at yet another large grocery bill. Rich bought more food than he ever had, hoping it would be enough for her. He would keep most of it in his room, so she wouldn’t raid his kitchen every night.

Sitting back at his laptop after throwing a few pieces of ham and bologna on the floor, he resumed working, not noticing the food being snatched away by something hiding out of view. Rich continued thinking about names for her, causally tossing a couple pieces of meat toward the hallway. One piece landed out of her reach.

Rich was typing on his laptop, feeling at ease, still unsure of what to call her when a large dark shape caught his eye.

His held his breath, his eyes looking straight ahead at her. She was crouching down, slowly reaching toward the meat, their eyes locked on one another. Rich saw her face looked ape-like, but definitely having a familiar human appearance. Her face was almost pleasant looking, not scary at all. He gulped and attempted to say “hi” but only a whisper came out.

She reached for the meat, slowly backing away from it, her eyes never leaving his. A slight smile came over Rich’s face, watching her retreat back into the hallway.

“Sally,” he said aloud, just before she backed out of sight. She stopped, watching Rich, frozen, not with fear, but curiosity. “Sally?” he asked her. He nodded his head, agreeing with himself that the name was perfect for her.

“I’ll get you another piece,” Rich looked to his side, taking his eyes off her, grabbing another piece of lunch meat from the package next to him. He tossed it to Sally, surprised that she was still there in a crouching position.

*****

The rest of the day followed a similar pattern. Sally moved to a corner, keeping her distance, crouching on the floor, but remaining in Rich’s presence – not hiding. He acted natural, non-threatening, no sudden movements, pretending as if Sally was a pet dog. He felt a little guilty for that, since she displayed more intelligence than an animal, but he figured the less threatening he was, the better.

After dinner a horrifying thought entered his mind. How would Sally use the bathroom? He assumed that her species crapped in the woods, but Rich didn’t want that in his house. He walked past her in the corner of the kitchen, making his way to the hall bathroom. He felt relief upon seeing there was no feces or urine anywhere in her hiding spot. The only thing he noticed was some water from the toilet on the floor, assuming she must have drank from it.

“Ok, maybe I should let her go. This is silly. I don’t want Sasquatch shit in my house,” he chuckled. Deep down he knew Sally would return. He was right. Opening the door for her, letting the cold air rush in, he went about his business, cleaning some dishes, occasionally glancing over his shoulder toward the back door. He saw her dark shape quickly zoom outside about fifteen minutes after he opened the door for her. Leaving it open, he put some pieces of lunch meat in the hallway once more and left to watch TV. He smiled hearing heavy foot fall making its way down the hallway. She was back, hopefully after taking a crap somewhere behind a tree.

Rich closed and locked the door, smiling, thinking that Sally liked the nice warm house of his. He went to bed only to be woken a few hours later by the same sounds from the previous night.




Chapter 7

Rich stood there, peering into the kitchen from his cracked bedroom door, his mouth agape. “Wow,” he thought once more, watching Sally move in the kitchen, studying things, eating some food he purposely left in the refrigerator. Her body, her movements, was so human like at night. It’s if she was a human woman, home alone, wondering around her kitchen, nude, enjoying herself. Rich was amazed.

“Maybe her species are related to humans after all,” he thought, watching the tall, dark figure, trail her fingers across the counter top. His imagination started wondering. “Go on, get comfortable, maybe pour a glass of wine, answer a text on your phone from your boyfriend, invite him over. Sit him on the couch and start riding him.” Rich thought, completely floored at how human her movements looked when she was at ease – not cautious or protecting herself. Her body was gorgeous in the dimly lit kitchen.

Sally, of course, poured no wine and texted no imaginary boyfriend. She walked over to the table where Rich sat earlier. He lost view of her entire body, but was able to tell she was squatting at his seat. He could barely hear loud sniffing sounds.

Rich watched her stand, the side of her body in his view, the light from the refrigerator shining on a muscular, shapely butt. Sally walked to the light source, closing the door, and made her way down the hall, Rich closing his door just in time for her to pass by. He chuckled, thinking that she was using the open refrigerator door as light instead of turning on a light switch. He wondered why she was sniffing his seat, thinking back to all those clothes he left outside, assuming it was to confirm the scent belonged to him.

*****

The next several days featured more of the same; Rich working at his kitchen table, throwing bits of lunch meat or other food to a crouching Sally in the corner of the kitchen. Sometimes he would watch her eat, noticing it wasn’t anything all that different than what he’s seen before. She chewed normally, her fingers manipulating the food; everything looked ape-like, but not unfamiliar. He would smile at her during breaks, hoping she understood what it meant to smile.

During the night, he’d watch her from his cracked bedroom door move about the kitchen for her late night snack. She was unafraid, standing tall, moving around like a human - a gorgeous, seven foot tall, muscular woman. Rich wondered how old she was.

As the days passed, he found he didn’t have to be so careful in his movements; being more and more natural in the kitchen - doing dishes, cleaning counters, sweeping the floor, all while Sally crouched in the corner, watching him, chewing on a snack. When she wasn’t eating, Rich caught her looking at him while he worked. He smiled at her, looking for a smile in return.

He got bold one day. He hadn’t thrown Sally a slice of lunch meat in a few hours. He was watching her peak out of the window at the snowy landscape, towards the woods. Rich stood, making his way to the kitchen, grabbed a small piece of ham, walking directly to Sally and extended his hand to her. She turned, looking up at him, slowly taking the meat from his hand. Rich sat back down, smiling at her, watching her eat.

He repeated this the next day, opting only to feed her directly instead of tossing her some food. He also let her outside each day. She would be gone for around 15 to 20 minutes but would always return. Rich started noticing she wasn’t crouching as much, but walking slightly more upright around him during the day. He was cutting up some bread when he watched her walk into the kitchen to resume her spot in the corner. He saw her breasts, covered in black hair, but still very visible and large, tan nipples poking through the hair. They were the same color as her nose, mouth, and other parts of her face that weren’t covered in hair. Rich also saw no external reproductive organs. A quick glance in between her legs confirmed there was no scrotum or penis.

“Nice tits, Sally,” Rich said aloud, causing her to turn to face him. Reaching up to him from her crouched position, she took a piece of bread from his hand.

The next day, Rich decided to try an experiment. “Sally, want to watch me take shit?” he asked, standing and walking to the hallway. He offered her a piece of food to entice her to follow him to the hall bathroom.

She peeped around the corner, watching Rich do his bathroom business. When he was done he didn’t flush, instead leaving his excrement there, hoping Sally would figure out that’s where it went. He watched her walk into the bathroom, moving right past him, causing him to look up at her. She was so tall, a foot taller than Rich. Sally looked into the toilet, sniffing from above. Rich slowly moved to her, bringing his hand on the flusher, making sure she watched what he was doing. He flushed the toilet, startling her slightly. She watched his waste go down to be replaced with fresh water.

“I really don’t feel like wiping your butt,” Rich said softly, peering around Sally, looking to her ass, thinking how it reminded him of Olympic level sprinters he had seen on TV. “It’s actually a nice one. Hairy, but nice. ”

Rich chuckled, making his way back to the kitchen, “You do a lot of squats and lunges out there in the woods?” He jokingly asked Sally, taking a seat, not expecting a reply.

That night while watching TV, Sally joined him, crouching in the corner of the living room. After about an hour, Rich tapped the cushion next to him, placing a tiny piece of bread there. Sally crawled across the floor, not sure what to make of the TV, and snatched the bread. She remained, sitting at Rich’s feet close enough to where he could feel her warmth against his pants. She was looking at the television.

Rich thought for a moment, tore off another piece of bread, and gently placed his right hand on her shoulder. She jerked slightly, but didn’t move from her position. She turned to face him, seeing his other hand with the bread, taking it from him. Rich left his hand there, eventually caressing her shoulder, just as he would a dog. The caresses morphed into scratches and gentle massages. Sally remained still, facing the flashing lights of the TV. Rich bent forward slightly, noticing her eyes were closed. As if she sensed a change in the air around her face, she turned, looking into Rich’s eyes. He smiled and nodded at her, hoping she felt at ease.

Removing his right hand from her shoulder, he slowly moved it to her face, the back of his fingers grazing the hair on her jaw line. His index finger moved up, lightly caressing the hairless part of her cheek, their eyes not looking away from the other. “it’s ok,” he whispered to her.

Shortly after that exchange, Rich turned off the lamp in the living room, the TV, rechecked the doors, filled a small bowl with water for Sally, leaving it on the kitchen counter and went to bed. He decided to leave his bedroom door open.

He was awakened hours later, light from the kitchen streaming into his room, the refrigerator door open. In the dim light, he saw the silhouette of a seven foot tall woman, standing in his kitchen, pouring the bowl of water down her throat. Barely being able to make out her breasts swaying with each step, Rich wondered if she would try to come in his bedroom, he wondered if she’d sleep in his bed.

Dozing in and out of sleep for the next hour, he thought he saw her. He thought he saw a dark shape peep into his bedroom, initially causing him to shake his head from what he thought was an eerie dream. The shape went away.

Shortly before dawn, Rich thought he saw a large dark figure standing at the foot of his bed. It was scary. He was half asleep, not sure if he was dreaming once more, turning to his side, closing his eyes tightly.




Chapter 8

As the weeks went by; things became easier for Sally.

She had figured out how to use the toilet. After a few observational sessions with Rich, she even wiped herself, though maybe not a thorough as a human. He wanted her to sleep in his bed with him. He wondered if she understood the concept of snuggling or cuddling. He had no idea of her kind did that sort of thing. The only issue was her hygiene. She still smelled a bit like a zoo exhibit. Rich wanted to bathe her.

Sally squatted on Rich’s bedroom floor, watching him shower, the glass stall steaming up around him. He had led her in there, quite easily since she pretty much followed him wherever he went in the house, sometimes even outside to get firewood. She watched him strip and proceed to lather up with shampoo. Rich hoped she would join him in the shower, glancing at her breasts, pushing perverse thoughts away, so he could bathe her thoroughly.

Finally after a couple days of seeing that the water flowing out of the little thing above Rich’s head and that the white, bubbly stuff he was rubbing over his body was not harmful, Sally joined him.

Extending her hand toward the falling water, testing its temperature, Sally entered the shower. Rich had never seen or heard an ape laugh before, especially a creature that was ape-like, as was the case with Sally. He noticed her toothy grin seemed so human. He watched her play in the water, splashing her face, listening to her deep grunts, assuming they were her form of laughter.

She loved the shower. She had no issue with Rich lathering up her back with soap. Rich was enjoying it as well. He noticed how densely muscular her back was, her wet hair sticking to and highlighting her musculature. Then Rich made his way further down her back and saw her ass.

His eyes lit up, watching the streams of water trail down her back and into her crack. Sally’s butt did indeed resemble some of those Olympic sprinters. Rich imagined Sally posing on the cover of one of those body building magazines. He chuckled to himself, his fingers combing the shampoo through her fur. Then something else happened.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her ass. At this point she was slightly bent over, as if she figured out it would be easier for him to clean her back, causing her back to arch and butt to stick out more. Rich stared at it, watching the muscles flex when Sally would occasionally shift her weight. He had an erection.

Rich slowly brought his hands to rest on her hips, pulling her back to him just enough to where his cockhead poked into one of her muscular glutes. Moving himself to the side a few inches, his cockhead was now poking directly below where her anus would be.

Sally felt this, standing up straight, turning around to look at Rich. He got scared, thinking maybe she would attack him, but she didn’t. Sally’s eyes trailed down Rich’s comparatively hairless body until they found his erect cock. Sally looked at it, studying it, as if in deep thought. She glanced back at Rich’s eyes, then back down at his throbbing erection. She was putting two and two together. After a few moments, she turned to her side, letting the water wash away debris from the front of her body and then to her back to rinse off her soap. Rich was embarrassed, hoping he didn’t offend her, not sure if he could offend her. He looked down in the shower, seeing all the dirt that had washed off her body. He spent the next 30 minutes cleaning up the mess Sally unintentionally made.

Apparently he didn’t offend her at all. Later that evening she was laying flat on the bed, her feet hanging over the end of it, grunting softly, realizing that a mattress was far more comfortable than the ground. Rich was next to her looking up to the ceiling, in his pajamas, feeling slightly awkward. He fell asleep later when he heard her slow, methodical breathing, assuming she was asleep.

The next several days were more of the same. They would shower, Rich would get aroused, Sally would look almost knowingly at his erection for a moment – as though she understood what was happening, why he was erect, and maybe, wanting to cross an interspecies line with Rich. Rich bathed her, running his hands over her large breasts, his erection harder than ever, not minding if he had sex with this creature. He laughed inwardly at himself, wondering if she would be into that with a human, telling himself he would never want to initiate it for fear of scaring her away.

After a few days in bed, Sally turned to her side, resting her head on Rich’s shoulder. He smiled, wrapping his arm around her large frame, pulling her in close. He rested his hand on her ass, gently kneading it, thinking that if she was a human he may not be able to brazenly touch her there. Sally didn’t seem to mind the next day when Rich squeezed her breasts after showing her how to turn a door knob.
As the weeks went by he found himself thinking of her more often in a sexual way. He almost couldn’t help it. Rich also talked to Denise more often - occasionally flirting with her after stopping to chat on the way to the grocery store each week. She was 5’5”, long, dark brown hair, and a curvy, hourglass body. After one Sunday of brief chit chat about the horses she was grooming, Rich said goodbye, thinking about how nice it’d be to take Denise to bed. His thoughts were interrupted by Sally. He sighed, pulling into his driveway, realizing he’d rather have sex with a seven foot tall Sasquatch than a human. He cursed himself for his idiotic thoughts.
Sally didn’t help matters by being more human-like. She learned to sit at the table, she walked upright all the time, she snuggled in the bed with him, and she learned to bathe herself. She also seemed to like affection Rich gave her. He would hug her, his head resting against her breasts; she would rest her chin on the top of his head. Sometimes they would stand there in the kitchen for a few moments; Rich occasionally sliding his hands down to her butt, grabbing it before sliding them up to her waist.

One day, after a long embrace, Rich told her he loved her. He wasn’t sure how he loved her though. She wasn’t a person, so it wasn’t entirely romantic love, but she wasn’t completely an animal, so it wasn’t the type of love a person has for their dog. But he did love her. He loved having her around, he loved snuggling in bed, keeping each other warm, and he loved teaching her to be more human-like. Rich never crossed any sexual lines, assuming that may hurt her feelings somehow – or worse, he could end up in the hospital. Rich had read stories about chimpanzees tearing fingers, hands, noses, lips off a person with ease. A Bigfoot could no doubt easily do that and more.

“Sally if you want to have sex, just let me know ok? It may be weird, but I wouldn’t mind doing that with you,” Rich told her, smiling, handing her a ham sandwich one day. He, of course, received no response from the Bigfoot in his kitchen, his joking words falling on non-English speaking or comprehending ears.

Rich sat across from her at the table, watching her eat, smiling at her, “I love you.” He patted her hand and went about cleaning the kitchen. Later that evening she fell asleep with her head in his lap, while he watched TV, scratching her furry head.




Chapter 9

In the Spring, Sally started changing. She became more restless, almost anxious about something. She also started looking at Rich’s erection in the shower a little longer than usual with a hint of what he thought could be desire in her eyes. Rich wasn’t sure, so he continued bathing her, hugging her, and copping a feel every once in awhile. He wondered if she wanted to leave, to find her own kind. Thoughts of her leaving made him sad; he wanted her to stay with him.

One night in early May, Rich was awakened by the most unearthly, horrifying sound he had ever heard. He groaned in pain, rolling off the bed, covering his ears. He looked around dark room, seeing no signs of Sally; all while the monstrously loud howl on his back porch shook him to the core. Once it stopped, he stumbled to his feet, pushing his back door open, finding Sally crouched down at the foot of the steps.

“Sally! What are you doing!?!” He asked, catching his breath. Sally looked to him and then back to the woods, cocking her head to the side.

“Sally?” Rich asked. She grunted at him, as if to tell him to keep quiet. She listened, waiting, watching the tree line. There was no howl in return.

Sally sniffed the air, looking around frantically; she scurried off toward the tree line, “Sally wait!” Rich called out to her. She stopped at a pine tree. Looking up to the branches above her, she squatted and jumped upward to reach the nearest one. Twelve feet above her head, she grabbed onto it, hanging for a few seconds before pulling and breaking the large branch. Rich watched amazed by her strength, gasping when the branch broke in half.

He watched Sally’s torso twist back, her arms clutching the branch, and brought it forward, slamming it against the tree. It made a loud wood knocking sound, like a gun firing. She did the several times and stopped. She released the branch and waited, listening for a response. There was none.

Rich watched this display, figuring that she was attempting to find one of her own kind. He was unsure why at first. Sally dejectedly walked inside his home. Rich almost felt bad for her, none of her own species were nearby for her be with. Then it hit him. Her restlessness, her anxious behavior, the howling calls; Rich realized she may be reaching sexual maturity and was either looking for a mate or letting one know she was nearby.

She snuggled against Rich that evening, but he could see she was distant, not making her heavy sleeping sounds. The next day Sally was distant again, often sitting on the back porch alone, looking out into the woods. She was lonely.

“Here you go,” Rich said, sitting next to her, giving her some turkey. “I love you Sally, and I’m sorry there’s no males of your kind around out there. You got a really nice body; some lucky Sasquatch is missing out. I’ll be a substitute if you like.” Rich, joking once again, patted her forearm, taking a few bites of his sandwich.
He stood to head inside, kissing the top of her head, smelling the new shampoo he purchased, one with a more feminine aroma.

*****

A couple days later, Rich was drying his hair after his shower. He genuinely felt bad for Sally. She had been moping around for a while now. He would joke and make comments to her about helping her find a male Bigfoot, or offering his services, all in good fun. He often wondered if she presented herself to him, if he would actually go through with it and have sex with her.

When he exited his bathroom, his towel wrapped around his waist, to see Sally on his bed, on all fours looking over her shoulder at him, Rich’s was faced with the reality of having to make that decision right there.

His mouth dropped open; he stared at her for a few moments. “Sally, I don’t know,” He managed to say before gulping. He approached her slowly. She was huffing and grunting, her eyes focused on Rich.

“Can I do this? Can I go through with it?” He asked, slowly placing a hand on her hip, her glute muscles slowly flexing against his towel covered crotch.

Sally grunted again, as if to answer his rhetorical question. Rich trailed his hands over her back and butt. He bent down to inspect in between her legs. He never saw anything resembling a vagina, since her hair covered any outer lips she may have. His eyes shot open when he saw, illuminated by the bathroom light behind him, clear, thick liquid, oozing off of her hair where he surmised her vaginal opening would be.

“You are in heat,” Rich said, taking his index finger, moving some of the hair aside, seeing what he thought to be dark tan labia lips. Sally grunted once more.

“You are in heat,” He repeated, standing straight up. “Can I do this? Can I help you?”

Rich held his hand to her crotch feeling the heat emanating from it. He ran his other hand over her muscular butt cheeks.

“Yes I can,” He said, dropping the towel around his waist, grabbing her hips with one hand, his other guiding his erection to her dripping, oozing crotch, stabbing against the dark fur, hoping to find its opening.

As soon as his cockhead felt her outer lips caress it he knew he was close to finding the entry point in all her hair. Rich groaned with his achievement, sliding himself in, wincing at how extremely tight she was.

“Are you a virgin, Sally?” he asked. He kept sliding in, listening to her grunt, feeling her very human-like pussy squelch and spasm around him, her butt flexing against his hips. He was all the way in. It was so tight, yet so familiar. It had been awhile since Rich had gotten laid, but Sally felt no different than a human. Rich looked down at her large body on all fours before him. Sally looked back at him over her shoulders, her mouth opened, making a slight grunting sound. Rich nodded at her and got to work.

All logic, reason, and sense left him. Rich was embedded into the tightest pussy on the largest female he ever encountered. She was grunting, either from pain or pleasure or both, a