The canoe and the knotty branch.

All was so still that we could hear the passing of dragonflies.

Gossamer wings aflutter, their tiny electric bodies skimmered over the quiet water as they hunted prey, troubled only with the random, splashy gulp of a fish at the same game. The summer sun gleamed upon the river, mirroring an expanse of bright blue sky. Robust greenery at either shore subtlely hid the wild eyes that quietly observed our antique wooden canoe as we gently ventured forward.

It was our second day at Lake Cashel. Our hosts were a pleasant lumberjack of a bulldyke, her femme partner, and the cat that enjoyed dropping by our cabin for morning treats and to escape the occasional rain. Apart from him, we had almost complete privacy from interaction with another living soul, and we relished in the peacefulness and calm of it all. We would wake in the morning, share yoga, feast, and embark on another day of pleasure together, our blood lubricated with hard cider, constant laughter, and shared passion.

Kara and I guided the canoe past rows of lilypads, birch groves, and the fluttering water surfaces bespeaking trout and crappie just under. Like dispersed toothpicks, old clusters of neatly cut logs lay scattered on the mud floor of the river, coated with moss and serving as testimony to the workers' barges that ran this river decades past. Submerged water plants swayed like dancing limbs.

As Kara steered the canoe upriver, I languished with the cool water against my hand as I paddled us on. It was easy to imagine the native Huron or Ottawa doing this very thing only a few hundred years earlier, before the days of Hudson's Bay, enjoying the sun and the still water.

Or to find a suitable place to tie a canoe and share more than just daylight and river, dragonflies and fish.

We coasted toward the small peninsula from an cozy little inlet that would be out of sight from open river, not that privacy would really be a worry. We had already paddled for about an hour, and were well away from any neighbouring cottages. As I tied the canoe to a birch whose branches reached high over the cold water, we carefully made footing on the slick rocks and climbed the steep, mossy incline to land.

Mosquitoes buzzed around us, and a bird or two called in the distance. As we strode uphill, we noted signs of deer in the undergrowth, and held one another's hand as we made our way over fallen trees and through bramble. The undergrowth was green and turquoise with lichen and oakmoss. The sunlight beamed through swaying branches. The air was crisp and vibrant with spice and growing things.

We stopped to kiss, standing amongst fallen branches and leaves in a shadowy canopy. Her soft lips were coupled by twirls of her curious tongue in that unique, broadstroke way she does when she kisses me. If blindfolded and subjected to the kisses of a dozen women, I would always know which one was Kara.

She reached under me and grasped me from over my hiking shorts, carefully clutching my balls as she squeezed and weighed me in her hand. I grasped the back of her neck, tugging her head into my chest so I might nibble at her nape, and listened toher quietly gasp as I did so. Her squeezes became firmer, and she ran her hand along the growing length of me.

I set her down on a fallen, mossy log. She looked up to me as she sat down, as I started to bring my hands to my zipper and lower it with a smirk. She reached to unbuckle my leather belt and I dropped my clothes to my bare feet, held the growing girth of me in my hands, stroking her new boyfriend's dick, and slowly brought my cockhead to her pouty, willing mouth.



I felt her lips slide over me, wet and curious. I felt her tongue tease my glans, wet and strong. I felt her take me into her mouth, and as I caresed her short, black hair, I looked up through the reaching branchs and enjoyed the scattered glimmer of the sun.

She sucked me gently, slowly. I felt myself thicken and lengthen more and more as her moist lips and tongue teased me. When we first began seeing each other, Kara was almost timid about having me in her mouth, but it wasn't long before she discovered her own centre, her own pleasure in pleasing me. I held her head gently, slowly sliding further past her swabing tongue, fucking her sensual mouth as she held my thighs tightly. I tapped my cockhead on her gorgeous face. I brushed it along her glistening lips. Among this temple of birch trees and stones, Kara rested on the mossy log and sucked my cock as I stood before her. Her bobbing head pleased me, as did the soft sound of her suckling, but soon I thought of a promise that I had made to myself.

Smiling, I stood her up and gently tugged the nape of her neck as I guided her toward the trunk of a tree. She obediently placed her palms against the old bark, her arms outstretched, her feet apart in the undergrowth as I returned to biting the nape of her neck again. Still tasting my cock, she melted as she felt my teeth and tongue, her legs weakening.

As I stood behind her, I reached around her waist and began undoing her pants. Lowering them to her thighs, I smirked as I enjoyed the sight of her heartshaped ass tightly clad in dark boys' underwear. Slowly, I revealed her lovely behind to me when I tugged the undies to her thighs as well. Kara sighed and rested her head against an arm, knowing what would follow.

I moved to stand beside her, my back to the tree, her small waist held in the crook of my arm as I coiled my hand back and around her. Clutching her tight, bent down slightly with her bare ass mere inches from my face, I restricted her movement snugly while she felt the first swats of my open palm. Her fine ass responded properly, faint ripples of her firm skin dancing before my eyes. Soon, my attentions turned to her thighs, and again to her ass, back and forth as my strikes became firmer and more demanding as best pleased me.

Kara enjoyed her spanking with tender groans and gentle swaying of her hips, stopped only when my grip tightened around her and my strikes becoming more and more centered. I focused on her left cheek alone until it burned red, then the right, and soon both with repeated, open-handed strikes. Her beautiful ass thoroughly entertained me.

As I gave her a moment to breathe, I spotted a fallen branch nearby that aroused my curiousity. Hardly firm enough for a proper cane, but it still amused me to deliver a few strokes across both of her reddened cheeks. A pair of knots in the wood were splayed apart at the perfect distance so as to let me fashion thin, white lines along her asscheeks as I held the branch to her bum and scraped it upwards slowly.

Swat. Scrape. Smack. Swat. Scrape. Smack.

I tossed the branch aside. I set my ground right behind her. I stroked my hard cock with my fist as pused her lower back down slightly while she continued to hld the tree. Gripping her left cheek, I parted her open and slowly slid my dick inside her tight, drenched pussy. I held her hips as I fucked her slowly from behind, her head alternately pressed against the tree and looking over her shoulder to watch me take her.

But soon dusk approached, and with it the carnivorous beasties eager to savage two sweaty lovers. Laughing, we dressed again and returned to the canoe, and soon were sipping wine before a wood-burning stove while we cheered the bats on as we watched them in the dusk.