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It was the last day of our camping trip, and we still had a long hike ahead of us. The mountain forest stretched endlessly around us, all towering pines, moss-covered rocks, and distant peaks hidden behind pale mist. My legs were already aching when we reached a little river winding through the trees. I dropped my pack with a sigh. “You guys go on ahead,” I told my friends. “I’ll catch up after I fill my bottle.”
I knelt beside the river and splashed the clear, cold water in my face. Then I heard something move between the bushes. Crack. A branch snapping. I froze. Another rustle came from the trees. Something big was moving between them. All I could see was a mass of shaggy brown hair slipping between the trunks. Fuck! A bear! My heart started pounding. “Okay, Jean… okay, don’t run,” I whispered to myself. I’d read about this. If you see a bear, stay calm. Don’t turn your back. Don’t make sudden movements. I forced myself to breathe and slowly stood up. The shape moved closer. Bigger than I expected. Much bigger. Wait. I stared. Its head rose above the bushes. Its shoulders kept rising. And rising. My blood went cold. Fuck! That’s not a bear!
The creature stepped into the open. It was enormous, towering over me, covered from head to toe in thick, dark-brown hair. B-Bigfoot? For one frozen second, neither of us moved. Then it took a slow step toward me. “Oh My Fucking God…” My voice came out as barely a whisper. I backed toward the river. The creature’s eyes stayed fixed on mine. “HELP!” I suddenly screamed. “HELP! GUYS!” I turned to run, but its huge arms swept around my waist and lifted me clean off the ground. “NO!” I shrieked, kicking wildly. “PUT ME DOWN! PLEASE! HELP!” My hands grabbed fistfuls of its coarse fur as it carried me away from the river, away from the trail, deeper and deeper between the trees.
Eventually, the creature lowered me onto a thick bed of moss beneath an enormous cedar. I scrambled backward, shaking so badly I could barely keep myself upright. “Stay away from me!” I sobbed. “Please… Don’t hurt me! Just leave me alone!” I stared at it through my tears, waiting for teeth, claws, some sign that I was done for.
The creature didn’t strike. Instead, it gripped the collar of my shirt with two fingers and pulled. The fabric groaned and then ripped down the middle, the buttons snapping and pinging off the mossy ground like tiny bullets. I froze, my breath hitching. It wasn’t trying to eat me, at least not yet, it was peeling me open like a piece of fruit. What the fuck? It wanted to see me naked? Well, if stripping was what it took to keep this big, hairy thing quiet and gentle, I wasn’t going to fight it. I stopped struggling and slowly reached for the waistband of my shorts, shivering as the mountain air hit my skin.
Once I was stripped naked, the creature didn’t move. It just stood there, towering over me, staring at my tits and pussy. The silence was deafening. I felt so vulnerable. Okay, you’ve seen it. Yes, that’s what a 23-year old girl looks like. Now what? I was trembling, my skin prickling with cold, waiting for the next move.
Then the beast leaned in. Its face descended toward mine, smelling of wet earth and old cedar. Before I could pull away, its lips touched mine with a heavy, wet, crushing pressure. Holy fuck. I stayed frozen, my eyes wide, my brain short-circuiting as the sheer scale of the thing kissing me. I was genuinely surprised this creature even understood the concept of a kiss. Maybe it was more human than I thought.
But the gentle, civilized “romance” lasted about two seconds before it turned animalistic. The creature’s mouth opened, and a massive, rough tongue—like a piece of wet sandpaper—slid across my cheek. It started licking me with a manic, slobbering intensity, sweeping from my chin to my forehead in one huge, wet stroke. It was exactly like a golden retriever that had just seen its owner for the first time in a year, only the “puppy” weighed eight hundred pounds and had a tongue the size of a dinner plate. I sputtered, trying to push it away, but I was just sliding in the slime. Fucking gross.
Then, without warning, it hooked its arms under my legs and hoisted me high into the air. My legs were forced wide, leaving me completely exposed and dangling in the air. Before I could even scream, that massive tongue slammed into my crotch with a wet, heavy thud. Oh my fucking god. The sensation was overwhelming. The tongue was so large it covered everything, licking from my perineum up to my clit in one slow, crushing sweep. It was an intense, terrifyingly efficient pressure that made my toes curl. I felt like I could instantly cum right there, shivering and naked, in the middle of a goddamn forest at the mercy of Big-Fucking-Foot.
Suddenly, he dropped me. I hit the moss with a dull thud. I lay there for a moment, staring up at the canopy of cedar needles, my brain trying to process the sudden transition back to reality. Bigfoot was towering over me, his chest heaving with a heavy, guttural breath. And then I saw it. Hanging there, thick and pulsing, was a massive, dark member that looked completely out of proportion with the rest of the world. Holy shit. My eyes widened. That thing was HUGE!
I slowly crawled toward him on the moss, my knees digging into the damp earth. I admit it, I was fucking intrigued. I had never seen a cock that big in my life, and the sheer animal magnetism of it was hypnotic. I reached out, my hand looking like a toy against the scale of him. I slowly wrapped my fingers around the base, unable to even get my hand halfway around the circumference, and started to stroke.
Bigfoot let out a low, vibrating growl that shook the very ground beneath my stomach. It wasn’t a threat; it was a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure. That sound triggered something in me, a reckless need to know if I could actually handle this. I leaned in, my breath hitching as the scent of musk filled my nostrils. I opened my mouth, wondering for a split second if it was even physically possible, but I didn’t hesitate. I pressed my lips to the head and began to suck.
It was far too big. From the first inch, my jaw felt like it was being pushed to its absolute limit. As I tried to take more of him, I felt a genuine sense of panic flare up—a claustrophobic feeling of being overwhelmed by sheer mass. But there was a thrill in that struggle. I pushed further, my throat tightening and my eyes watering as I choked on his gigantic cock. And I loved it. I fucking loved it. The feeling of being completely conquered by something so monstrously oversized.
I’m not sure what possessed me to do it. Survival? Lust? Either way, I needed to feel more of him. I wanted to see that beast lose his calm, animal focus. I pulled back, positioning myself on the moss and arched my spine, spreading my legs wide and invitingly. I looked up, my chest heaving. Do it, I thought, the thought screaming through my mind. Take me. I wanted to know if he could actually fit inside me, or if he was just going to break me in half.
For a second, I thought he would turn back. But then he grabbed me, and he grabbed me good. His massive fingers clamped around my hips like iron shackles, bruising the skin and hoisting my pelvis high off the ground. He didn’t go slow. He didn’t tease or prepare. With a guttural roar that sounded like a landslide, his huge cock pushed inside me with one brutal, singular thrust. OH MY GOD. The world vanished into a white-hot flash of friction and pressure. It felt like being impaled by a warm, living pillar; my internal organs seemed to shift to make room for him, and the sheer volume of him stretched me to a point that felt physically impossible.
I didn’t scream; I couldn’t. I just gasped, my mouth hanging open as my head slammed back and forth. The sensation was an overwhelming flood of fullness, a heavy, throbbing ache that filled every single corner of my anatomy. Every shove was like a punch to the gut. My legs were pinned wide, my ankles locked behind his thick wrists, leaving me completely vulnerable to the relentless, crushing depth of his stroke.
He lifted my entire weight up into the air while continuing to drive into me with a savage, rhythmic intensity. I was dangling, my body suspended by his grip on my hips, reduced to a living fuck doll. Every thrust sent a jolt of electricity through my spine, the gravity of the situation making the friction feel even more acute. I was nothing more than a toy in his hands, a fragile thing being played with by a force of nature, swaying in the air as he hammered into me.
Then he carried me a few steps away, still joined, before dropping me face-first onto a flat, moss-slicked slab of granite. The impact knocked the remaining air out of my lungs. He didn’t give me a second to recover. He stepped behind me, his massive weight pressing me flat against the rock, and he shifted his angle. I felt the head of that monstrous cock slide out of my vagina, a wet, sliding sensation that left me shivering, only to feel it press against a different, tighter entrance. My eyes widened. Wait, he was going for my butt? NO! Stop! That wasn’t the deal!
I tried to push back, to shift my hips away, but his grip on my waist was like a vice. With a guttural grunt, he shoved forward. I let out a strangled shriek as he breached my backside. It was an agonizing, electrifying fullness that made my entire lower body vibrate. He didn’t ease in, oh no, he claimed the space, burying himself deep into my rear with a brutal, uncompromising force that pinned me to the granite.
He began to pump inside my tight butthole, and the rhythm was savage. Every thrust drove my chest further into the cold, wet moss of the rock, the friction of his velvet skin against my tight walls creating a heat that felt like it was scorching me from the inside. I was sobbing now, not from pain, but from the sheer sensory overload of it. I got more than I bargained for, much, much more. The sound was disgusting and beautiful—the wet, heavy slapping of his thighs against my ass, the ragged sound of his breathing in my ear, and the way my own voice sounded, reduced to pathetic, high-pitched whimpers. I felt completely demolished, a small, fragile thing being broken and remade by a mountain of hair and muscle.
Eventually, the violence slowed. Bigfoot slid out of me with a wet, sucking pop that echoed through the trees, and he collapsed onto the mossy ground, his massive chest heaving, his amber eyes clouded with a glazed, animal exhaustion. He sat there panting.
I lay there for a moment, my legs shaking and my insides feeling like they’d been rearranged by a landslide. But as the adrenaline began to cool, a sharp, insistent frustration flared in my gut. Oh, no you don’t, I thought, my jaw tightening. He had spent the last hour treating my holes like a playground, and suddenly he decided he was done playing? No fucking way.
I didn’t give him time to recover. I pushed myself off the granite slab and crawled over to him, my skin slick with a mixture of sweat and his thick saliva. I hoisted myself up, straddling his massive, heaving chest. He let out a surprised, guttural huff, his amber eyes fluttering open in confusion as I pushed his cock inside of my pussy. I gripped his shoulders, my fingers disappearing into that coarse, dark fur, and lowered myself down.
I mounted him with a fierce, desperate focus. He was a mountain of muscle beneath me, his breathing heavy and ragged. My pussy was still sore, I was pushing myself far beyond my limits. But I didn’t want a gentle finish. I want to see that beast fucking cum. I slammed my hips down, forcing him to take the weight, my head snapping back as I chased that elusive peak. He groaned, a low-frequency vibration that rattled my ribs, and his huge hands instinctively clamped onto my waist to help propel me upward. Yes, that’s it! Fuck me! Fuck me hard!
Just when I thought I could take no more—when my muscles were screaming and my breath was nothing but a series of desperate stabs—the beast finally came. It wasn’t a quiet release. He let out a sound that started in his gut and tore through the canopy, a primal roar that vibrated through my entire skeleton. It felt like a hot tide of lava flooding my womb, a thick, pulsing torrent that filled every available inch of my internals until I felt like I might actually burst from the inside out.
The creature hoisted me high into the air. He held me aloft, my legs splayed wide and dripping, my pelvis tilted downward toward the moss. With a guttural huff, he let me hang there, showing me off like a price, allowing gravity to take over as the massive, overflowing reservoir of his seed finally began to pour out of me in thick, hot ropes. It took minutes before the cum finally stopped pouring out of me.
I felt absolutely nasty in that moment. The heavy, musky scent of him was everywhere—clinging to my skin, matting my hair, and soaking into the dirt beneath me. I looked down at my own trembling thighs, seeing the white, viscous streaks pouring down, coating my inner legs. There was no dignity left, just the raw, animal reality of what had happened. I was a mess of saliva, sweat, and seed, smelling like a mating den and feeling like a piece of discarded livestock.
“So you see guys, that’s why I was gone for over an hour.” I finished the story and took a sip from my mug. For a moment, nobody said anything. Then Rick burst out laughing. “You had sex with fucking Bigfoot? Seriously, Jean?” Everyone around the campfire cracked up. “Hey, I was gone for a long time,” I protested, holding up my hands. “You wanted to hear my explanation!” More laughter. “It’s actually a pretty good story,” Frank admitted. “Very hot. And you gave me a big boner!” Everyone laughed even harder. “Much better story than just admitting you got lost again,” Sarah teased me. I laughed along as I pulled my sleeves down over my arms, covering the scratches and bruises. “Hehe… true…”
So when I started this series, one of the first things I had to figure out was: what is my Bigfoot actually going to look like? 🤔 I made a whole bunch of sketches. Some more Neanderthal-like, others closer to a great gorilla. There were even a few designs that were clearly influenced by Chewbacca! 😆 In the end, the final creature became a mix of all those ideas: human enough to feel familiar, animalistic enough to be unsettling and brutal. And of course, with a few very big body features. 😜
Here’s my final sketch if you’d like to see more about the design process. Actually, in all honesty, this isn’t the first Bigfoot piece I’ve ever done. There’s another fabulous design, made by yours truly when I was, I think, ten years old or something. If you want to see true horror, check this out. Red nail polish, for some reason? Yeah… I have absolutely no idea what I was thinking. But hey, at least my skills have somewhat improved, right? 😅
