The Whore Guide

This is a story within the framework of my Canoe Soo Series. It will cover a seven day trip, crossing an Ontario Provincial Park from East to West.

The Whore Guide.

Chapter one.

The first year that I provided a wilderness guide service, I was locally known as, 'The Whore Guide'. I like to think of myself as 'The Guide that likes sex.

Is it my fault that I'm a girl?

A friend of mine at the Sioux Forestry College suggested that I call my business, 'Canoe Soo', a play on words that suggested some degree of intimacy, without actually giving a guarantee. He figured that I could get paid up to twice as much as a male guide.

So a party of four adventurous men can travel with me for a week and pay me nearly twice as much as the industry standard.

I don't know if hookers make 8k a week, but that is what I am worth. My season runs about 36 weeks, and I have 5 parties signed up over the next 8 weeks.

"Hi, Loren, I'm Kerry," one guy offered, while his friends queued up behind him.

"I'm Wess," the next guy uttered and quickly stepped aside.

"Hey, gorgeous, my name is Roger, but you can call me Rod, or just wiggle a finger at me and I'll come running."

The last guy was trying to shove more clothes into the little space that I gave him in the dry pack.

"We will do a bit of laundry every day, buddy, so don't worry about an extra shirt." I explained the minimalist approach, which has more to do with keeping the packs light for portages, then it has to do with looking good.

"Let's get this trip started, guys. The sooner we get going, the sooner we can do some fishing and have a campfire and get to know each other a lot better."

Twenty minutes later, the five of us were paddling down the Kopka River, heading into the wilderness of Canada's Boreal Forest.

I always try to start my trips at our outfitting station, since it gives them a place to park their cars and leave all of the extra stuff that these newb's always bring.

My single canoe glides along, just ahead of them. They have not tried to best me, yet, but any time now, one of the two pairs will try to take the lead on our expedition. This is where I show them who's boss.

"Not a spec of makeup, a scrape on one leg and bug bites all over!" Kerry was whispering to his helmsman, Roger.

"Yet, she is so fucking sexy," Roger responded.

"You had better get used to the mosquitoes, Mister, I often get horny around a cozy campfire." I called out.

Now they knew that whispers are loud in these natural canyons that were scraped out 20,000 years ago, by the receding glaciers. They also heard something about sex! Then I learned the last guy's name.

"Hey Carlos, did your mother make sure you have condoms?"

Wess liked to embarrass his friends, but I soon learned that he could take a ribbing too.

They brought their two canoes closer together as I continued along the river. I knew that their quiet discussion would be about their chances for having sex. One look at the sun told me that we had better get going or I might have to help them set up a tent or cook.

"Guys, please take a minute to consult your maps." I yelled back to them as I rested in a back eddy.

They put themselves into the current first, then they pulled up their maps.

"We are heading to the north end of Kirkland Lake. It is a great site, raised up and usually windy, so most of the bugs are swept away."

I let that sink in for a blink or two.

"If the bugs stay away, I like to make love in the moonlight, if we have enough time and I'm not too tuckered out..."

Their pace improved without a word.

"Do you mind if I stop and fish a bit? I mean, I won't be too long?" I wondered if they would catch on this fast.

"Go right ahead, Loren," Kerry called over his shoulder.

They were now men, with a mission. I pulled out my collapsible rod and reel.

"Pace yourselves, Gentlemen!" I called out, then laughed to myself.

I cast and reeled a few times then decided to try an inflow, about a half mile down the river. It was too small to have a name but it was the drainage to an unnamed lake, so it would probably bring fish to the main river. The Kopka starts at Redsands Lake and runs through the Provincial Park, ending at Lake Wabinosh. We would travel down stream, ending with a lengthy return by logging roads and highways.

The line pulled tight and I had my first walleye. There was brook trout in this river and laker's in some of the deeper and colder waters throughout the Provincial Park, but a 3 pound walleye is a great snack after coitus, and there would be lots of that.

I figured that they had enough of a head start. I slid Charlie into the water and pulled my little red canoe down the river. I named my paddle Charlie, after my mentor Charlie Whitefeather. He taught me everything that I know about these lands and these waters. He made every paddle that I ever used, except for the double ones that I use on long open water stretches or when I go kayaking in Ecuador during the snowy months.

The portage before Lake Obonga was hacked up at the shore. They had taken at least two trips to accomplish the passage, by the signs of their muddy exit from the river.

I stashed my fish and the gear, threw the pack on, then swung my 14 foot kevlar canoe on top, and off I strode. This would only be 235 meters but it was downhill and tricky.

I managed to be on the lake in about 20 minutes. They would have taken at least an hour, so I decided to fish as I paddled. The current would get me there.

When I caught my next fish, I realized that we were running so late that we would have to cook this one with our meal. I put away my gear and headed for the camp.

I could hear them and smell the fire before I could see them. There wouldn't be a bear or a deer for a mile with this much activity. I didn't hide my approach, and they were probably watching for me.

Carlos met me at the landing for this official campsite.

I secured my canoe while Carlos carried my pack to the camp. Our meal for the first night is always fresh, and they were just putting the steaks over the fire. Most older men know how to cook over a campfire, but few youngsters get it right. In this case I saw that they had potatoes cooking in tinfoil and the steaks were just going on.

"Carlos, it looks like we have ten minutes. Do you think that you can put a smile on my face in ten?"

I moved towards the tent while his mind worked on the problem.

"Come on, fella, don't make a girl ask twice," I said with a pout.

"Okay, Kerry, get my pad and sleeping bag and put it in one of the tents."

"Which one, Loren?" Kerry asked, but I had moved into the tent, followed closely by my first lover of the trip.

"You have the sexiest ass, Loren," Carlos whispered, though everyone in the camp was listening intensely. "So muscular, yet so well rounded..."

I wiggled out of my tight shorts, leaving my tank top in place. He ripped his T over his head and I dove for the clasp on his shorts.

"Better if you shut up and fuck me, Carlos. I had his attention with the word fuck. "Everyone can hear us, so I recommend that you prove to your friends that you have what it takes to please a woman."

He had to take an extra few seconds to take off his white, cotton, undies.

"Underwear has no place on a canoe trip," I announced so all could hear. He found a condom without me asking, and he even opened the package, but I was in a hurry, and putting on a condom is one of my favorite things to do.

I pushed him back and cupped his bag with my right hand, stroking his cock with my left. I brought the condom down with my tongue pushing it in the center, against my lips. I help his cock to stay in place while my lips unroll the rubber onto the crown of his penis. This part is easy; continuing past the head was always cheated a little with my left hand.

With the cover in place, I deep dive a few strokes, just to get us both amped up.

He's already laying down, so I mount him, letting him guide his cock for the entry.

Even without any lube, he slid full depth into my pussy, slamming his testicles into my ass. He struggled to control himself, until I stared into his blue eyes enough to reach my own peak, then he released inside of me, like it was his first time in a long time. I kept rolling into him after he had finished. I wanted more.

I do not like overcooked meat, so I had to eat my dinner before taking Wess by the hand.

"After you wash the dishes, everything goes in the food barrel and up a tree. Then I'll be bunking with Roger and Kerry."

"Will you bunk with us tomorrow?" Wess asked, looking very unhappy.

"In the morning, Rod and Carlos are responsible for breakfast, so..."

"Can we pay you a visit?" Corey asked.

"I doubt that you'll sleep in, sport; now let me show you why."

I pulled him into the tent and into my arms. He found my lips and our tongues started to intertwine. My hands were at his waist before he found my tits, but only because these guys are good and decent men. They are not used to a woman like me. Raw, powerful, and hungry for the joys of life. Of course they can not resist me. I am a Goddess to them.

I came out of the tent naked. A white fluid was sliding slowly down either thigh. I knew that I looked like a whore but I did not care.

"I need a swim, to rinse some of your spunk off of me. Any joiners?"

The water was still quite cold but I sprinted to the edge and did a shallow dive, slightly down current so I wouldn't get swept away.

I heard sounds of movement behind me as my feet left the rock. Then, before I broke the surface, I felt a strong grip on my right ankle and I was tugged back into someone's arms.

Roger and I intertwined as we floated with the current. I did not want to have to bushwack back to the camp, naked, especially where there was no path. We would have bites on bites after that, and I wanted to itch a different need tonight.

We got our footing and brought our bodies to the shore.

Soon I was drying myself by the fire. My four companions sat there staring at me.

"Guys! My pussy is not going to eat itself, nor is there anyone else here who will play with your cocks, unless I'm mistaken?"

They simply stared and smiled.

I went to my stash, where I had a dozen ready rolled joints. Booze is too heavy for wilderness tripping. Careful use of cannabis is my answer. It is well known that weed consumption increases your desires. Some will need chips or cookies, but we don't have either of those things.

"Who enjoys a puff?" I asked my dick swinging friends.

They all joined in, but you could see that Roger was not a regular user. He was clumsy holding it like a cigarette at first, then switching his technique as he watched the others.

Soon, Roger was sitting on the ground, then laying back and studying the sky.

"This one is out of it," I mused out loud, nudging him with my foot.

I made a mental note, not to waste my best weed on Rod.

"Who wants to fuck me?" I asked out loud.

I spread my legs and tilted my pelvis in an enticing way, which drew all three of them close to me. Rod opened his eyes, but stayed on the ground, watching.

No one was dressed, so their cocks were swinging from side to side. I turned and offered a rear entry and one of them stepped up, and in.

I was being pumped from behind when I realized that my tits were being handled. I orgasmed as I ran my hands through the hair of the two that were sucking on my jugs. It had to be Kerry doing the thrusting, since Wess and Carlos were playing with my nipples.

When the breeze ebbed we called it a night and escaped from the mosquitoes.

The first night it's always hard to sleep. The excitement is one thing, but the sounds and the quiet, cause everyone to imagine forces at play that are not really there.

As usual, I was the last to rise. We had all slept in, but at least the Canoe Soo Outfitters had great menus that included hot coffee and pancakes for breakfast, with sausage on day one. Only foolish outfitters let their patrons go hungry on these trips.

We were back on the water at 10:30, only about an hour behind schedule. We spent some time going over the maps, then I checked out their J stroke and modifications, like the Canadian pry, which everyone uses when they get tired.

Next came the draw and the cross draw. They were aware of the concepts but they needed some technical guidance to be able to deliver the far reaching strokes.

When in fast water the bow person must make hard directional changes, and when they lean out to pull to the left or right, they need to hold their seats with their ankles and keep their knees spread out to make a firm foundation that can pivot. It's all about teamwork and practice.

Lunch consisted of trail mix, energy bars and water, consumed as we rafted along. The history books tell stories of river travel throughout Canada, with voyageur passages in both directions. Now, even the Indigenous People choose to travel upriver by train, plane and ocean going ships.

They were as ready as I could make them, when we got to the first safety eddy. From here we could see the lay of the rapids, prior to facing them. The contour lines on the map show a drop of 25 feet in a straight line distance of only 500 feet; that meant that any mistake would only result in getting wet, not in death or serious injury.

I pointed out the trouble areas, which they had to avoid.

"I want you to decide how to get through this level 2 technical challenge. I will watch from here as you pass, then you can eddy out and watch me," I explained, then hurried them away with a wave.

I spent the next ten minutes listening to the wind, sniffing the air and taking in the view. Until my peace was interrupted.

"Cross! Cross!" Wess screamed at his bow mate, Kerry.

His screams were not needed. Kerry reached easily to his right and brought them safely through the one difficult spot. Wess shifted his paddle angle to straighten them, after they avoided the rock that centuries of water had failed to move.

Before the first canoe had eddied out, the second one was in my view.

Carlos reached for the crossdraw, but Roger overcompensated for the weight shift, sending them overboard on the port side.

I cried out to Wess as loudly as I could, before running for my own vessel.

"Leave the guys, they can swim. Go after the gear."

Two things were in my mind, as I ran; How much gear will we lose, and where is the fastest way to extract my party. The first thought was fleeting, since we had redundancy in all equipment, and the second was instinctual. Always have a plan.

As I hit the water I could hear their shouts from ahead, and as I cleared the rocky challenge, their voices changed to laughter. It turns out that Carlos had tied everything in before attempting the rapids. As a result, their gear was floating in their water filled vessel.

"Did you have a spare paddle?" I asked about the one thing that people overlook, and seldom tie down.

Their furtive looks confirmed that it was lost.

"Fifty Bucks!" Roger cried. "It wasn't new. I would think that 10 would be more fair."

"This is not a negotiation, Roger. You can pay it, or not. It will be your choice."

We still had four hours of travel ahead, so I gave them their orders, and went ahead to fish.

They had to empty their entire canoe just to get the water out, then the packs had to be drained. We could make do with the dining tent and the one dry tent, while the tent that got soaked could be aired out to dry.

The dining tent had one disadvantage: no barrier from the wind.

We used the centerline of the dining tent as a clothes line. One pack and a tent had suffered the worst damage.

As the evening progressed, I started to make out with Carlos, while his friends watched. When I had his cock in my mouth, I felt hands moving my tight shorts to my knees. He didn't bother pulling them off of me, since he could access my swollen pussy easily.

Condom or not, a stiff cock pressed into me from behind. The fact that I didn't know who it was, made it much hotter. Fingers were added to the mix at both my clitoris and breasts.

I was being thoroughly fucked, so I concentrated on the cock in hand. Carlos had a Mediterranean look about him, but I suspected that he was from Mexico. He was very thin at the waist, but not his cock. His penis was not long enough to reach my throat, but it still filled my mouth with its girth. My lips made a tight enough grip just naturally pressed closed. It took a few strokes to get enough saliva to let the shaft slide through my lips. My tongue movement added to the lubricant and to the stiffness.

Carlos stared back at me, as he approached his reward, and I didn't have to wait long.

"Jesus Christa!" He cried as he climaxed. "You are an amazing woman, Loren Campbell!"

I had to say to myself, that my life would be well lived, if that was the last thing I ever heard.

End of chapter one.