A Little Push In The Bush


By Likegoodwine copyright January 2015

Here’s a short story for you. All sexual partners are adults. As is often the case with me, my story shouldn’t be taken seriously, just a few words put together to make people smile.

Edited by JonB1969.

Your votes and comments are welcome.

For many people in North America, winter is this unpleasant period between autumn and spring, a time when snow and sleet make your life miserable. A time to stay inside, avoid fresh air and imagine that you live on a tropical island.

For others, it is the time of the year where every little remote and mysterious spots on the map are finally within reach.

“What is he speaking about?” You might be asking. “Too many Jack Daniels on a cold Saturday night?”

Not at all! Let me explain!

Jacques Robert is my name. I was born and raised in Minneapolis, where I lived till I was 20. Then I started to move from one part of the country to the other, sometimes staying for a couple of years, other times not more than a couple of months.

See, I had a passion growing up: hockey. My Dad was a hockey player and I was born when he was playing for the Minnesota North Stars. I was good. Not awesome, just good! And I was a long way from the talent of my father. To make a long story short, I had more heart than size. At 5’11” and 180 lbs, I had an average speed but rather good hands. As a result, some scouts noticed me and I was drafted while still playing my junior hockey. I was a late draft, what they call a long shot. A career in hockey was such a long shot, also in my own opinion, that, on advice from my Dad, I went to play on a scholarship for a well-known eastern university. I never played one single game in the majors, but I spend over 10 years in the minors earning more than 100K a year to play a game I love.

Now 30 years old and with a knee causing me to wince every damp morning, I am no longer playing hockey. Thanks to my Dad, my business management diploma came really handy. Now I have a nice job for a mining company in Northern Canada.

When I say Northern, I mean it!

Look at a map on Google or anywhere else you like. Canada is a country North of USA, Duh!

Go a few hundred miles North of the northernmost border of the USA – aside from Alaska – and then go up! And up! And further up! That’s where I am. Here we call it the Arctic.

There are a few diamond mines north of Yellowknife, Northwest Territories. I work for one of them. Good pay, decent workload and nice colleagues. Nothing to complain! Except that winter here lasts seven fuckin’ months. Seven! The snow starts in early October and stays till the end of April, sometime first week of May. Snowfalls in September or June? Sure! Bring it on!

After a few years there, I had a choice. Run away with my tail between my legs or do as the natives do. I chose to do as the natives. I have a boat, for the really short summer season and a snowmobile for the very long winter. I am not at all into hunting. However, I love fishing.

And that’s what brings me to this weird story.

A friend of mine came up with the perfect secluded lake where we could go ice fishing and catch a lot of walleyes – they call it pickerels here. The remote lake was easy to spot on Google map. To get there, we decided to explore the area, trying to find snowmobile trails to reach our destination, or at least, to get us close to it.

The following weekend my friend was unable to come with me. Safety tells us never to venture alone in the forest – in the bush as the locals say. I should have followed that advice.

Armed with a map and my GPS, I was slowly making my way on my snowmobile isveçbahis toward the last trails we had spotted the previous weekend. I finally reached the Promised Land, or promised lake to be exact. However, it was near 3:30 PM and getting dark so I decided to go back.

On top of a hill, backtracking my way, I saw a familiar trail downhill. Indeed, I looked at my GPS and I could see that I could save many minutes instead of going around on a loop. So I took a short cut, angling the snowmobile downhill toward the trail.

I reached the foot of the hill when I heard a loud cracking sound. The snowmobile simply started to sink through a thin sheet of ice. It moved another few feet until the snowmobile hit the bottom of a creek. No wonder nobody ever took that shortcut. The snowmobile in the water, I tried to jump away from the snowmobile but the ice gave under my weight, and a stupendous shock hit me when I sank in the creek all the way to my waist.

It felt like a ram had hit me in the chest as soon as I felt the icy water. I gasped for air but was unable to breathe for a few seconds. As soon as I was able to breathe, I climbed back on the snowmobile and looked around.

I finally made it back to the shore. I was already shivering.

To ascertain my location, I reached for my GPS. Gone! Probably downstream in the creek! My mind already numb from the cold, I made a quick calculation. I must be close to 2 hours on foot from the road where my pick-up was parked. To fight the cold, I decided to get moving and walk at a brisk pace.

After one hour, it was pitch black. The moon was hidden by the cloud cover and without my GPS I relied only on the hard surface of the snowmobile trail to keep me heading the right way. Or so I hoped!

Frozen to the core, shivering, I plodded my way toward the warm safety of my car. The moon made an appearance and shed a dim light reflected by the snow. I looked around but didn’t recognize at all where I was. Am I still on the right trail? Did I take a wrong turn amidst the many crisscrossing snowmobile trails? Am I about to die, frozen and lost? What a special Holliday season for my parents if I don’t make it back to my car.

The moon disappeared again behind the clouds, and I was left alone in the dark and freezing to death, literally.

I walked another 15 minutes, shivering uncontrollably. My mind was getting more sluggish by the minute.

“Keep walking”, I told myself, despite an urge to simply lie down and rest. At that moment, my nose got a whiff of smoke in the air. I stopped and looked around. I saw nothing, but the smoke seemed to be coming from my right, away from the snowmobile trail.

Smoke means fire. Fire means warmth. Warmth means shelter. Despite the risks, I decided to leave the trail and walk toward where the smoke was coming from.

After a few minutes, through the branches, I finally caught a glimpse of light coming from ahead. It seemed like ages before I could see a cabin. There was some light and, more important, a smoking chimney.

Shivering, I knocked on the door. No answer. I knocked again and called out.

“Help please! I am freezing to death. I need help”.

Finally I heard the latch and the door opened a few inches. A woman looked suspiciously at me. When she noticed my frozen pants and coat, she gasped. She said something in a language I didn’t understand, opened the door, grabbed my arm, and pulled me inside.

I almost cried tears of joy to have finally reached a safe haven from the cold weather. I just stood inside the cabin, by the door, and my whole body was shivering, my teeth loudly chattering.

Without a word, this beautiful woman, a isveçbahis giriş native in her 40’s, said something toward the back room and started to unzip my coat. A breathtaking younger woman in her 20’s came from the back room carrying blankets, a frail granny following her. All three looked so alike that they must be mother and daughter: same size, same bushy dark eyebrows, same nice copper colored skin, same slightly prominent teeth – except for the granny, who didn’t seem to have any teeth.

In a matter of seconds, I was stripped of every piece of wet cold clothing and I was covered with a nice warm blanket. A chair was by the wood stove, and I was guided to it.

The granny said something in her language, and then finished with a giggle. Her daughter translated for me.

“My mom says to sit down in front of the fire to warm up… and… she also said not to worry, it will all pop out when you are not so cold,” she said while looking at my midsection in the gap left open by the blanket.

I looked down. Holy crap! With the cold, it seems that my whole genitalia system was trying to get inside my body. My balls almost disappeared inside and my penis was only a little tiny appendage.

Soon, I was covered with another blanket, warmed up by the wood stove, and I was sipping a hot cup of tea. I was still shivering but my body was soaking up all the warmth thrown at me. As a consequence of the mild hypothermia, I soon began to doze off on the chair. I was in a daze when I felt myself being herded toward the backroom and put to bed. I soon fell asleep.

I woke up during the night. An oil lamp burning in the front room was illuminating the room a little bit. I was laid on my side, sandwiched by two warm bodies. I soon realized that I was sporting a huge hard-on, and the small woman in front of me, probably the granddaughter, was gently humping her buttocks on my erect and very alive penis. I also realized that my hand had somehow found a nice little breast and was cupping it.

I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to respond to the humping, but at the same time, I had her mother laid down behind me, her whole body glued to mine. So, gently, I began to caress the breast resting already in my hand. The humping stopped. Darn!

After a few seconds, I sensed her buttocks pushed on my erect cock again. I pushed back. Slightly, silently we started to hump each other again. My hand went underneath her shirt and I felt the warm soft flesh of her breasts. They were small but the little nipples were hard to the touch. I gently squeezed one nipple. A moan escaped her.

I let my hand slide down slowly, caressing every inch of her tummy, and made my way to her crotch. Over the panties, my fingers reached her pussy. She strongly pushed her bum on my hard-on. I caressed her mound for a few seconds through the fabric of her panties and she began to moan almost silently, but steadily.

I finally inserted my hand under the waistband of her panties and let my fingers explore the folds of her very hairy pussy. When I reached the wetness of her tunnel she let a louder moan. Her humping stopped. Her hand reached behind her and grabbed my very erect cock.

After a few minutes of masturbation, her hand left my cock and she pulled down her panties a bit down her hip. Then she put a leg on top of mine and grabbed my cock, pulling it toward her pussy.

When I felt my cock at her entrance, I positioned myself better and began to push inside.

Wow it felt great! So tight, so wet and feeling so good! I began a slow motion of penetration, going in and out, one hand still gently caressing her clit. Her moans were now louder.

I wasn’t able to push isveçbahis yeni giriş very deep in that position but I enjoyed the sensation of my cock rubbing inside her pussy. I wish I could change position and fuck her real deep and hard, but it wasn’t to be, with the mother right behind me, only a few inches from where her daughter was getting screwed by a complete stranger.

As the woman was getting closer to her climax, she was moaning even louder and pushing back her hips to meet my thrusts.

Despite the situation I was also having a hard time being quiet. My thrusts were getting harder and faster. Almost totally lost in our carnal fusion, I was still aware enough to realize that the woman behind me was masturbating herself as well as biting my back. That really did it. I let spurts upon spurts of semen fill the daughter while I still felt the mother rubbing herself and kissing me. Totally exhausted, I fell asleep, my cock still inside the daughter.

Later that night I awoke to a very nice and pleasant sensation. A nice, warm and soft mouth was around my cock, sucking me like there was no tomorrow. I might have been half awake but I still had a very hard rod to suck on. Within minutes I was coming into a very welcoming mouth. Soon after I was back asleep.

I woke up alone in bed the next morning, unsure if it was all a dream. Looking at the dried up pool of semen on the sheet beside me, I knew the truth and was ashamed of my behavior. These nice people had saved my life and I had thanked them by fucking their daughter. What an ass!

Wrapped in a blanket, I got up and walked toward the front room. The granny was cooking over a wood stove. The mother was busy butchering some unidentified animal, probably a rabbit if I could tell by the size, while the granddaughter was at the table listening to her ipod. Nobody was paying attention to me. It was a little bit weird after the great sex I had last night following my rescue.

We had a quiet breakfast. They both fluently spoke English but they often reverted to their native language. The daughter was acting very natural, unfazed by our previous sexual encounter. However, the mother kept blushing at me and the granny kept on cooking.

After breakfast I was given my clothing back, now totally dried.

“Emilie will be starting the snowmobiles soon,” said the mother. “We have a good idea where your car is and it will be a short ski-doo ride there.”

On that, the daughter got up, grabbed her coat and went outside. Soon I could hear a snowmobile engine sputtering to life. Then a second one started. She came back inside and sat at the table across from me. Her mother and grandmother were in the back room. Finally alone!

“Emilie,” I said. I got no reaction.

“Emilie,” I said louder. She looked at me and removed her ipod’s earplug.

“I wanted to thank you… for everything,” I said. “It was simply marvelous and I couldn’t have ask for a more comforting gift. Thanks again!”

“Oh well, Cool!” she said. Then she put back her earplugs.

I was nonplussed at her reaction. Wow, my performance must have been lacking. Normally, I receive a thank you, at least. I didn’t have time to linger on that thought as the mother and grandmother came back. The mother soon had her coat on.

“I’ll be giving you a ride,” she said. “My daughter will follow us with the other sledge.”

As I was about to make my way out, I stopped in my track and turned around toward the granny. The mother and daughter passed by me, heading outside. Granny walked toward me, hobbling with her cane. I reached and offered her a handshake. Instead of shaking my hand, she grabbed my scarf and pulled me toward her. To my surprise, she kissed me hungrily.

“Thanks a lot Sweetheart!” she said, releasing me. “You made my day… no my week… no, you made my century. And don’t worry I can’t get pregnant anymore. Give me a shout anytime.”

The end!

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