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Mature wife fulfills sexual fantasy with stranger in hotel.

"Maybe I forgot to mention one benefit of no central heating."

"What's that?" Erik's voice was as breathy as Ryan's was raspy.

"The fire in the stove usually dies out in the middle of night."

Erik frowned. "That doesn't seem like a benefit."

"So, we'll have to find other ways to keep each other warm." Ryan whispered this against Erik's lips, not really kissing, just breathing into each other.

Images of how they could keep each other warm, wrapped up in blankets, bodies entwined, flashed through Erik's mind, and he suddenly felt overheated in his heavy parka. He acted on his earlier desire to kiss Ryan, capturing the full lower lip between his teeth, trailing his tongue across the soft flesh. When Ryan kissed him back, Erik moaned around the tongue shoved into his mouth.

Fuck the middle of the night. Erik wanted to practice generating heat now. His hands sneaked under Ryan's unzipped parka, trying to find their way past too many layers of clothing to reach naked skin. But their mission was thwarted when Ryan grasped his wrists and gently extracted them from his clothes. A disappointed protest rose from Erik's throat, but Ryan smiled against his lips.

"Soon, but we need to get set up before the sun sets and it gets too cold outside."

Erik rolled his eyes and sighed. He knew Ryan was right, but that didn't mean his cock was happy about it.

Ryan sorted through the cooler, pulling out ingredients to make sandwiches for lunch and other items that could be kept unrefrigerated. Everything else went back inside the cooler, and Erik was instructed to stick the whole thing on the back porch. Together they made lunch while Erik asked about the cottage and the surrounding area.
Apparently, Ryan's family had a similar cottage in Quebec when they were growing up in Montreal. When Rachel moved to Toronto and married Tom, they bought this cottage and spent most of their summer weekends away from the city. Winter camping was more Ryan's thing; sometimes he went there by himself for the weekend-time to be alone and think.

Erik didn't understand that. Being isolated with someone and having hot sex to stay warm-yes, he understood that. But just by himself? With no one to talk to? And no one to call for help if he fell into the ice and died? That didn't sound appealing.

After lunch, they cleared the ice hole that had frozen over since Ryan had dug it out the weekend before and drew a couple of big buckets-full to bring inside. Ryan showed him the outhouse-the little shed standing a few yards away from the house with a wooden bench and strategically sized hole. Erik didn't look forward to having to use it, and his balls curled up a little tighter just at the thought.

Then they settled onto the futon for the rest of the afternoon. The cottage was stocked with reading material, and Ryan had brought a couple of articles he still had to edit for work. So, they sat, each on his own end of the futon, legs intertwined in the middle, covered under a couple of layers of blankets. Every so often, Ryan would get up to stoke the fire and feed it one of the logs already sitting at the ready in a pile next to the stove. Then he'd drop a kiss on Erik's forehead before settling back into his spot on the opposite end of the futon.


Erik didn't remember falling asleep. But when he awoke, he was wrapped in blankets, and the sun had already set. The wood stove was burning, and he could feel the heat radiating from the black, iron box. His mouth felt dry and his head throbbed a little from dehydration. Ryan wasn't on his end of the futon anymore.

Sounds from the kitchen had Erik stretching and craning his neck to see Ryan at the counter, humming to himself while he chopped. It was so domestic that it hurt, a delicious ache in Erik's soul that wished everyday could be like this: waking up from afternoon naps in front of the fire to find Ryan making dinner.

In his daydream, Erik ignored how Ryan couldn't cook to save his life.

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