By Dashiell Walraven
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By the time Garrett's frantic parents were able to get to the lodge, the county sheriff's office had arranged for a helicopter from the National Guard to land on the lake and take Garrett to Albany Medical Center where his injuries could be treated. Garrett remained unresponsive as the guardsmen bundled-up his limp body on a wire basket litter, and ferried him to the awaiting, massive helicopter sitting on the solid surface of the lake.
The children and adults gathered and watched in silence as the huge craft throttled up, chopping the air and sending its thunderous echoes throughout the lake valley. During the painfully slow ascent, snow and grit stung our faces as the great bird chewed its way into the air, gradually climbing over the mountainside and disappearing into the slate-colored sky. It seemed, in the sudden and deafening silence, even the wind dared not blow. Neal stood shoulder to shoulder with me for a few minutes as I gazed absently in the direction to which the helicopter departed. Silently, I turned and trudged up the trail from the beach to my little hunter's cabin; Neal followed closely behind.
The path to the cabin felt like a little canyon, with the snow coming nearly up to my ears. The wind-driven drifts in and out of the path, made for slow going, but mostly the way remained clear enough to be passable. We stomped around the small porch to kick snow from our boots, and brushed one another off with a small hand broom before going in. Once inside, I found the matches and lit the kerosene lantern while Neal stacked some small kindling and firewood into the stove. Soon the interior was lit with the warm glow of the lantern and the smoky, crackling fire in the stove.
As I stood before the warming stove, Neal came up behind me and started rubbing my neck and shoulders. I closed my eyes and let out a soft groan, angling my neck to give him better access to the knot that had taken residence there. He found it, massaging it out with strong, skilled fingers; his thumbs pressing deeply into the rigid muscle to knead it into submission. I whispered my thanks to him as he draped his arms over me, cradling my forehead in the palm of one hand while firmly hugging me to his chest with the other. I did not sob, but tears did well up in my eyes and tracked down my face as I thought of the past two day's events.
Neal turned me around to look at him, but I said nothing. He wrapped his arms around me, and held his cheek against mine. I closed my eyes once more and turned slightly to take in the scent of his deep, black hair. I sighed heavily in his embrace. We stood there, the wind doing its work on the snow outside; piling it up against the windows of my little cabin so nothing but the dimmest of light could seep in. Neal broke away for a moment, lithely jumped over to throw the bolt on the door, and then took my hand, leading me over to the bed.
With deliberate care, Neal unbuttoned my shirt, and pulled the tails out from my belt. The shirt fell from my shoulders; he caught it and laid it over the footboard of the bed. Lifting the hem of my undershirt, he pulled it slowly over my head, the remaining cold in the room made my nipples pucker and harden. Neal pulled at my belt buckle and pried it open. Fingering the button at the waistband, he deftly, yet carefully, tugged the zipper open and grabbed the pockets to pull my pants down to my feet. He hooked two fingers over the waistband of my briefs, lowering them as well. Once I stepped out of my pants, I was fully nude, save for my thick, woolen socks. Neal made short work of those, brushing the pants, underwear and socks aside in a single crumpled pile. Neal quickly pulled his own clothes off, almost in one fluid movement, to the floor where they joined mine.
He sat on the edge of the bed, gripping my butt with both hands and drawing me closer; I could feel his hot breath rustle my wispy, red pubes. Pressing his face to me, he touched his lips against the base of my penis. Using his tongue, he expertly guided me into the heated chamber of his mouth; I gasped and grew quickly hard. Putting my hands on his head to steady myself, I felt my dick bounce along the ridges on the roof of his mouth. With slow, yet strong suction, Neal rasped his tender tongue along the base of my penis, while making swallowing motions. All the breath huffed out of me as I bucked against him.
Worried my knees might buckle, I whispered to Neal that I wanted to lay down with him on the bed. Falling into the soft linens, Neal and I came apart only long enough to cover ourselves with the thick pile of comforters, which quickly warmed from our combined heat. I wanted to turn around and suck at him too, but Neal pushed me back on the pillow, and dove back down under the covers and between my legs. Hoisting my knees to his shoulders, he resumed his toil on my straining penis, covering it once more with his sultry mouth, while gently fondling my balls. I felt his saliva trickle down around my testicles in a warm stream, where it dripped across my winking anus. In my over-excited state, the momentary touch of his fingertip against my moistened hole triggered an explosive, teeth-gritting climax. A strangled moan escaped my throat; I gasped and bucked, my penis rocked with jolting spasms in Neal's mouth. Moving with me, Neal held me in his mouth as the muscular paroxysms subsided. He slid up from under the covers, grinning like a bandit, and kissed me on the lips, his breath sharp and alkaline from the remains of my ejaculation in his mouth. We kissed deeply for a long time.
"There," he said with a self-satisfied grunt, "feeling any better?" I nodded dumbly to him, words failing me. He smiled back at me, his black eyes sparkling. As he lay on top of me, I felt his hardness.
"I want to do something for you too," I said softly to him. Neal shook his head.
"You don't have to Oliver," he said, "I wanted to make you feel better, that's all I care about." I pressed a finger to his lips to quiet him.
"There's something Garrett shared with me that I've wanted to do with you for the longest time." Neal's eyes flashed, his expression an inscrutable mix of excitement and fear, his stiff penis throbbed against my belly. I pulled him into a kiss, and did a crocodile roll to put him on his back. He laughed in surprise.
"Oliver!" he giggled, "what are you doing?" I went down him, slobbering as much as I could on him. He squirmed and cooed under me as I worked a finger into my mouth, and then transferred it to my rear end. When I pulled my mouth from him, he moaned in dismay, but he quieted down as I straddled his hips. Our two members rubbed together, mine having resumed its erection once more. I arched my back, and let his penis slip under me. Using one hand to steady myself against the headboard, and the other to guide him, I slowly sat down and pressed the crown of his penis against my hole.
"Oliver, what the..." he gasped, "what are you...?" Neal's voice caught in his throat as my anal ring yielded and I slowly sank onto him. Neal's slender penis slid into me very easily with none of the unfamiliar, almost painful stretching Garrett gave me. It was as if I had been made to enfold Neal like this, and I felt immediately at home with his penis firmly imbedded. He swallowed loudly, his expression wide-eyed and intense. I sat there for a moment, letting him acclimate to the new, amazing sensations.
"Nice?" I asked, softly. Neal nodded silently and fervently, I felt his penis pulse strongly within. Slowly, I sat upright, pulling him nearly out, before gently sitting down on him again. Neal moaned deeply in his chest as I descended on him once more.
"Oh fuuuuuuck," he hissed, "it's like putting my dick in a furnace!" Neal pushed his hips up, trying to drive his himself into me as far as possible; his entire body shuddered as he shut his eyes. "Oh man..." he moaned hoarsely, "it feels so, freaking good!" Slowly, Neal and I worked into a rhythm, his up-thrusts meeting my down-strokes, punching his penis into me with greater force as he picked up speed. I leaned back, pressing my palms against his knees, which had the unintended effect of limiting his motion. He immediately switched to a shortened, rapid thrusting that seemed to touch something deep inside of me. My hard penis swelled to a point where it was almost painful, the shiny head bursting through its foreskin, drooling clear liquid that dripped down the side and around my balls to pool on his belly.
The familiar quickening in my belly started as my penis began to throb slowly and strongly. I couldn't believe I was going to come again in so short a span of time. Looking down the length of my body, past my bouncing pole, I saw Neal's face, screwed up into a grimace of pure pleasure; we both began to pant and gasp.
"Aahhhhhh," Neal cried out, "Oh fuck!" He made one last thrust as my cock began to fountain all over my belly and chest. I too, let out a loud groan as I felt the dual sensations of his penis pulsating in syncopation with my own. I think the intensity of our mutual climax surprised the both of us. As we came down from our respective highs, chests heaving and glistening with sweat in the warm, fire-lit air of the cabin, we both gasped and grunted until our breathing slowly returned to normal.
"Heh," I giggled, looking down at the gooey splashes all over my chest and pubes, "Didn't I made a total mess."
"Yeah, well," Neal nodded, "holy shit." His penis gave a final throb in my butt and slipped out as I leaned forward and bent down to kiss him again. I felt my wet load squish as our abdomens pressed together; my penis slowly wilting between us. We cleaned up as best we could with a soft rag. Neal dressed and saw to the stove as I gingerly pulled my pants back over my tender butt and tackle. No sooner than we got ourselves squared way, my dad showed up with a sharp knock at the door.
"Your mother had me bring lunch for you two," he said, a look of concern on his face, "How are you both doing?" We flashed mischievous grins at one another, and dove into the paper sack to find four thick, tuna-salad sandwiches and a sliced picked wrapped in wax paper.
"We're good, Dad," I said, "I just wanted to come out here for a little bit and space out, I guess."
"I figured you needed to decompress," he said, nodding, "I know all this has been tough on you."
"Thanks Dad," I smiled at him. He reached over and mussed my hair.
"You know, I'm so proud of you both," he said seriously, "I don't know too many boys who would act so unselfishly to save somebody's life." I felt my face go red, and I looked over to Neal, who was grinning around the sandwich stuck to his face. Dad stood up from the table and walked toward the door.
"Stay out here as long as you need to," he said, "but don't forget tonight we open Christmas presents!"
"Cool beans!" Neal perked up, "When do we do that?"
"After dinner, which will be served promptly at four o'clock, so be there or miss out," Dad grinned, "and Oliver, you've got to take a moment to clean this place, it smells like a locker room in here!" With that he departed, closing the door firmly behind him. We both looked at one another and burst out, snickering and laughing.