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Why don't you two just fuck and get over with it? -- by Ted

We were north-east of Lac la Biche, Alberta, when the snowstorm hit, completely out of season. We hadn’t even reached the 1st of September yet. I wasn’t even supposed to be there. I was supposed to be visiting my fuck-buddy Trev in a small town a hundred miles north of Lloydminster, Saskatchewan, but when I flew into Edmonton from the coast, Trev met me and informed me that unless I felt like going on a horseback trip into Northern Alberta for three days I might as well jump on the next plane home. He couldn’t get out of a call back to work.
Trev was supposed to be on holidays from his job inspecting the well-heads, the ‘Christmas Trees,’ of the many natural gas wells dotted all over the lonely north. His job was to make sure all moving parts were in working order, nothing rusted up, before winter rolled around. He had been called back in to do an on-the-job training of a new guy, working out of their base in Lac la Biche, to the north-east toward the Saskatchewan border.

The summer was stretching out

The way Trev put it to me, I could go with them, or go home. The summer was stretching out, the weather was still warm even though the days were getting shorter, and although it had been a few years, I was no stranger to horseback. I chose to go with them – to go with Trev, really. I had been in love with him ever since we had first met seven years before. Unfortunately, although Trev enjoyed me as a friend and as a fuck-buddy, he had never really fallen in love with me as I had with him.
So we drove his Jimmy to the company headquarters and storage yards in la Biche where we were introduced to another Jimmy – the newbie; selected three horses from the stable; and signed out three days rations for three men. Trev explained me away as a visiting uncle. He would probably get shit from mamagement for it later, but he wasn’t much worried about it. We only took a few basic tools along in the saddle bags, because this was not an actual working trip, just a training exercise. Then we set off to the north-east.The weather was so mild we never even considered rain gear, let alone snow gear. We were completely unprepared for what was to come.
The first day out, we got to know Jimmy a little. He was about the same age as Trev, nearing forty, some twenty years younger than me. He was only a newbie in that he was new to this particular energy company. Trev really only needed to show him this company’s protocols. I was just along for the ride – and to feast my eyes on my beloved Trev.
Trev was a wiry little guy, about five-nine, equally at home on horseback, behind the wheel of a 4X4, or riding a Quad. He was also very good in bed, active and inventive. He had a seven-inch cut cock with an upward curve that would reach way up inside me. And when he came, it was a flood! He shot more cum, and further, than anyone I had ever met.

The first day out we got to know Jimmy a little

We had met online, on Silver Daddies, originally, but we had graduated to a Skype-like silent video chat app, where he would regularly jerk off for me on his very slow connection from his little hobby farm a hundred miles north of Lloydminster. I will never forget the day when he was jerking off for me, rocking back on his wooden kitchen chair, his feet up on the desk on either side of his computer/camera. As I said, it was a slow, jerky connection. He was about to cum, when suddenly he disappeared from the screen, sort of like a stop-action movie. One second he was there; the next he was gone. Then he was back, standing up from the floor where he had disappeared to when the legs of his chair had collapsed just as he came. He was covered in his own cum, and still looking stunned from the sudden shock of falling backwards to the floor as he reached his climax! It was hilarious!
As we rode, stopping now and then to inspect “Christmas trees”, Trev showing Jimmy the ropes, we chatted about all sorts of things. It was a pleasant expedition. My only regret was that I was not in a cosy motel with Trev, or alone with him on his farm. Jimmy was interested in my life in Australia, prior to migrating to Canada, particularly the beaches and the outback and the flora and fauna. I kept him entertained with stories of sharks and snakes and kangaroos.
The first two days passed uneventfully. It was the late afternoon of the third day and we were already headed back when the rains came, the temperature dropped massively, and then the snow started. It happened like this occasionally when the Arctic forced itself down into the prairies early.
Scattered throughout this area of little lakes and swamps and mosquitoes, there are a number of “survival cabins” for people just like us – hunters, trappers, prospectors, and gas and oil work-crews. We had already spent two nights in cabins just like this, where I found it very hard to be sleeping close to Trev and unable to touch him, Jimmy being there. It was to another one of these cabins we headed when the snow came harder and the wind blew harder.

The first two days passed uneventfully

In just two hours there was about a foot of snow on the ground, wet, slushy snow, more like the snow we get on the coast than the dry, light snow they usually get on the prairies. In no time we were soaked to the skin, cold and wet. It was a miserable, wet cold. The wind was cutting right through our clothes, getting stronger every minute. Visibility was cut to maybe thirty feet.
I was so, so thankful when Trev’s expert orienteering brought us right to the survival cabin he was aiming for.
There was a rough lean-to on the back of the shack with a little hay for the horses, and we tethered them and looked to their needs, wiping them down, and feeding them some hay that was already in the lean-to and some oats we had carried, before looking after ourselves.
All three of us tried to get through the cabin door at the same time, to get out of the biting wind. Once the door was shut behind us, we could take stock of our situation. We were all soaked to the skin and shivering almost uncontrollably.
Trev took charge immediately. “Get out of those wet clothes,” he told us “All of them!” He was already stripping his own off, right down to completely naked.
The companies made sure these cabins were re-stocked during the summer. One of the things they made sure of was firewood. This cabin had a pot-bellied stove. It was maybe 100 years old, but it was still functional, and Trev set to work to start a fire in it. The cabin was still relatively warm compared to the temperature outside, and the fire Trev lit was soon roaring and warming the cabin to a comfortable temperature.
There was also a larder, of sorts, a wooden chest with some basic supplies – rice, dried beans and peas, flour, salt, the sort of food that kept – and kept people alive – survival food. We didn’t use any of it. Our company-suppled K-rations weren’t wonderful, but they were more appetizing than those the cabin stocked. We ate an early meal, sitting on a low bench that filled most of the cabin. It was meant as a base for a camp bed, and that’s what we turned it into.
Our sleeping bags, rolled inside our water-proof groundsheets, had remained relatively dry. One sleeping bag, opened out almost fully covered the bench, which was wide enough for the three of us, so we used two of them as a sort of mattress. The other we would use to cover us.
It was completely dark out by the time we had eaten, and there was not much point in sitting round naked in the dark, waiting for our clothes to dry where we had hung them on a make-shift drying rack we had constructed by the wood stove, so stoked the stove up well and we went to bed still stark naked.
I don’t know why, but we slept in the bed head-to-toe, head-to-toe, with Jimmy in the middle, Trev and I on the outside. I don’t remember whether one of us suggested this pattern, or it just happened. It reminded me of when I used to sleep over as a kid with a family with two boys. They slept in the same bed, head to toe, to discourage any “hanky-panky” as the parents called it – although I can’t for the life of me see how it would, if the bed-partners were so inclined.
It was probably just as well. I was not much interested in Jimmy, but I was very horny for Trev and his lovely long cock, so that even separated from him by Jimmy in the middle I got a woody thinking about him.
After a long time laying there, swapping tales, listening to the storm raging outside, and taking turns to get up and add a block of wood to the stove, we all drifted off.
I woke up much later. It was very dark, but from my Indiglo watch it found that it was close to three in the morning. It would not be light for at least three hours.

"My turn."

While it was still comfortable in the cabin, it was definitely much colder. The fire had burnt down, so I took it on myself to get up again and stoke it up a bit. It didn’t take much to get it flaming again, and I had been especially careful not to wake the others. The only light in the cabin came from the chinks in the wood stove. I had a raging piss-hard. We had organized a coffee can for just such an emergency before retiring, and in the feeble light from the fire I found it and I used this to relieve myself, trying hard not to make too much noise. I was just shaking off the drops when I sensed movement beside me, and heard Trev whisper, “My turn!” as he took the piss can from me. He gave me such a start I nearly dropped the can handing it over to him!
Listening to him piss, there in the dark cabin, brought back my stiff dick with a vengeance. I waited for him to finish. It seemed to take forever. When he did finish, he reached out for me in the dark and drew me against him. His cock was even harder than mine, standing straight up against his belly, as it always did when he was especially horny. He pulled us harder together, our cocks rubbing against our bellies, 'frotting’. I started to say something, but he whispered “Shhh!” and pressed his mouth to mine.
Standing there in the dark cabin, the storm still raging outside, we kissed again and again. We continued to grind our groins together, sensually, sexually. It was made more erotic, more exciting, by the knowledge that there was another man asleep just feet from us. We were committing a forbidden act, and could be caught at any moment.

I want you so much

I finally got to whisper, “I want you so much. I want you inside me,” when we came up for air.
Trev whispered back, “The storm will be over by morning. We’ll be back in the Biche by tomorrow afternoon, and safe in my cabin by late tomorrow evening. Or a motel maybe. But we’ll be alone at last.”
“I thought of nothing but you fucking me for days,” I whispered back. “The wait is killing me.”
“I know,” he assured me, “but I’ll make it up to you. I’m so thankful you decided to come along, that we got to experience even this together.”
“Well, it was not exactly what I expected,” I pointed out. We rubbed our crotches together more, and kissed and hugged each other there in the dark. I knew I was not far from cumming.
When Trev whispered, “I think I’ve fallen in love with you,” that was the trigger. My cock twitched and spasmed. I felt my seed forcing its way up the canal, and spurting forth in the space between us. It was a trigger for Trev also, and his cock began its usual massive eruption. Trev pulled us hard together as he came, and his cum spurted out of him, squeezed between us. We stood there in the dark, kissing and cumming, sperm dripping down our bellies, off our balls, down our legs.

"Why don't you two just fuck it out?"

We were still standing there, stuck together, when a voice cam from the dark:
“Why don’t you two just fuck each other and get it over with? Then maybe we can all get back to sleep.”
We laughed. It was a bit late for that! We were spent. We wiped off with an old towel, and climbed back into bed with Jimmy, who didn’t seem disturbed by our shennanigans the least bit.
We slept out the rest of the storm.

(Hat tip: Camisolepourhomme)


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