3 Women, 1 Man, His Wilderness Cabin

We all laughed at her obvious satisfaction. We untrussed her, and the first thing she did when she hit the floor was to use the bucket under the bed. When we were all naked again and cuddled tightly together, Bitch began fondling May's pussy.

I had seen women eating women worldwide, but I hadn't witnessed it done with such care, intent, and affection. These two were truly in a sexual heat for each other. It was almost a secondary pleasure waiting in the wings for my turn on the stage of sexual congress. The sight has never bored me, as well as I haven't always found it entertaining, but this was all good, let me tell you. They were both coming and going loudly and ambitiously.

I finally found a satchel under the table that they had been pulling toys from all night. But when they pulled the strap on out of the bag, I naturally puckered up. I was not going to have anal sex like this. Period.

I watched Bitch tighten the straps, adjust the fit, and grease the dildo, which was bright red. When Mary didn't grease her ass and instead greased mine, I took the position on my back as they lifted my legs and slowly using May's hands, and the lube slid that mile-long dildo into and gradually up my ass.

May leaned down and began licking my limp cock as the product of my prostate flowed steadily from my cock. It was a great feeling of fullness and pressure. I thought I liked it at the time but wasn't sure I would be able to walk again.

The dildo was removed, and they cleaned me and the dildo. May then took the position I had vacated, and Bitch drove the dildo in and out of May until they both were approaching but not getting to a climax. I suggested I help and began massaging and kissing them here, there and everywhere I could reach an erogenous area.

In about three to four minutes, they came. First, it was May, screaming softly, "Oh my God, I am ready for Hank now."

Bitch said, "But I want my ass reamed too, you guys."

Not a problem. It turned out that we all wore that strap-on during the confinement, and I am sure we each used it on both of the others. As the confinement dragged on, we were plotting and planning on improving the overall situation of our living. We were only one mistake away from the dangers of spending the winter in a remote Alaska wood. The disconnecting from the rest of the world is hardly discussed, but reconnecting was.

May lived in 'the world.' Bitch and I intended to not need the world in our lives until we allowed it. So, May was able to provide insight into what it looked like as an observer. Bitch and I were even more convinced to make even more infrequent trips for supply and keep our location as private as a snow machine trail out here could be.

The number of people who thought they needed to come near us for recreation was astonishing we had discovered. The Mc Candless kid had made this bus a destination for the morbidly curious. They were the people that both Bitch and I were attempting to distance ourselves.

When the authorities had to rescue numerous people over the winter, they finally sent a tow out and dragged the bus through the snow to the highway. Our tourist traffic became hunters and trappers ranging out into the wilderness. I eventually placed no trespassing signs around my four lots, but it was the wilderness.

I came to believe that the only things that paid attention to the signs were the moose when the winter subsistence hunting season rolled around in January. I hunted as far as ten miles away to finally harvest the moose I was entitled to have. A young bull, about six hundred pounds of smelly, raw, fresh field-dressed moose being drug ten miles through the wild on an Akhio sled, was a magnet for predators. Bitch was able to kill her moose almost under her meat cache, which reduced the work to store it enough for her to finish before me. Ten miles away caused so much more for me to do; she cooked for the two days I worked to lock away the meat.

We had wolves and wolverine all over our stockpiles of materials and stored goods for the rest of the winter. If we cooked moose, we got a serenade from the wolves. If we opened one of the meat caches, we had a visit and a couple of days serenade.

It seemed that eventually, the wolves became acclimated to us being there. They would approach within twenty feet and stare and stare. I had one wolf lay under a black spruce tree about nine feet from the door. It became like the watch wolf.

When I was outside, the wolf would sit up and watch me. When I was inside, it would lay down as though forlorn.

There was a mottled color female that showed up one day with a porcupine in her mouth. She dropped the body on the porch and then laid on the porch for two days. I finally was able to scare her off and throw the carcass away.

It took a while, but I sensed myself becoming lax around the wolves. I sat by myself one evening on a stack of materials and watched them. It looked like they watched me in shifts of twenty to thirty minutes, and then a rotation would occur. My sentry and the porcupine wolf disappeared mid-day the next day. While I watched again, they were lazing around, when exactly together they looked in the same direction and took off the opposite way at a trot.

A wholly different group arrived in about a half-hour. They were wild, growling, with their hackles up, with teeth bared. I moved inside, checked my weapons, cleaned and reloaded them, and hung one beside the door.

I had no way to warn Bitch, so I hoped she was still in town. She'd been gone over a month, and I actually realized that I missed not just her lust but her honest affection. We had become a steady thing, fucking and playing nearly every day.

I do not know the date or month, but an Alaska State Trooper announced herself outside my door in the spring. I was decent and asked her in to get warm. She was pleasant, to the point, and delivered the news that Bitch had been killed on the highway a day ago. Her ID had listed me as last of kin.

I explained the circumstances, and we used my key to her house to let the trooper do her necessary search for personal information. She found a file from Alyeska and took it back to the world. Before she left, she had a million questions about how I was doing and how I managed to be there.

Never expecting to see her again, I was surprised the next week to have her ride up in a snow machine pulling a sled of supplies.

We unloaded them, and I invited her for dinner. She had fresh crab and shrimp, twenty pounds of butter, and fresh garlic.

I wanted her that night, but I hurt too much from all of the food! We did take care of that the next morning and afternoon, however.

When she left, I sent a moose front shoulder and a short piece of Caribou back strap with her. It was one of the best weekends of my life and, at the same time, one of the saddest.

I stayed for four more winters, wrote eight novels, a biography, and a technical paper about ways to electrify remote places. Electricity was a luxury I really missed.

I am now the landlord for that trooper who lives there, assigned in the Healey District. We haven't collected nor paid the rent, but I look forward to that visit. I will bring the food this time and will not overeat.

The end