In the vast expanse of a snow-covered wilderness, each falling flake seemed to echo the cold loneliness that had become a constant for the solitary man. The snowdrifts, high and unforgiving, whispered tales of isolation, creating an unending white canvas as far as the eyes could see. The wind howled with ferocity, making the small shack creak and moan under its pressure, standing defiantly as the last bastion of warmth in the frozen wasteland.
The man, with his deep blue eyes reflecting the endless icy horizon, had grown accustomed to this relentless cold and desolation. His brown hair, flecked with gray, bore witness to the countless winters he had endured. The silence was both his companion and tormentor, the void in his life palpable.
Then, that fateful day arrived. Discovering the injured young woman amidst the blinding snowstorm was like finding a delicate rose in a barren desert. His heart, long numbed by loneliness, suddenly raced with purpose. Gently lifting her into his arms, he trudged through the knee-deep snow, each step heavier than the last, his determination unwavering.
Inside the shack, he laid her on the soft bed in the solitary bedroom, letting her have the only private space in his humble abode. He became her silent protector, watching over her as she slept, ensuring the fire stayed lit to ward off the frosty air. The man painstakingly brewed herbal remedies, using the scarce supplies he had hoarded, and fed her with whatever nourishing food he could spare.
In the dimly lit room, the soft glow from the fireplace illuminated her form, revealing a beauty that was both delicate and formidable. Her silhouette, gracefully curved and draped in the clothes he had provided, seemed almost ethereal amidst the rugged surroundings of the shack. As the days turned into nights and back again, he couldn’t help but notice the youthful vitality that seemed to course through her, even in her weakened state. The hours he spent tending to her wounds and caring for her allowed him to witness the resilience of her spirit, reflected in the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the slight twitch of her fingers, and the occasional fluttering of her eyelids. Each passing moment was a testament to the indomitable human will to heal and recover.
As the days turned into weeks, a profound bond began to form between the two. Their relationship, rooted in mutual respect and gratitude, grew in depth and warmth. The barriers of solitude that once seemed impenetrable for the man slowly started to crumble, replaced by shared smiles, soft spoken words, and the comforting presence of another human being. They found solace in each other’s company, two souls brought together by fate, finding strength and companionship amidst the relentless cold of winter.
He would never have touched her, never harmed her feelings. But at night when he was alone in the living room his body showed the effects she had on him. Her hormones bringing his cock to life as it stood fully erect in the moonlight he would look out the window thinking of her. His pulsating member wet from glistening drops of precum. Her scent was obvious- her fertility at peak. He had come to terms with his age a long time ago. His cock had been a potent breeder. A bush covered the balls, but the veins came out as the muscles flexed in anticipation. "You will resist" the man spoke- you cannot have her...one false move and we have a baby in the house- she is maybe twenty- let her go to college...spring will come..."
She would have been able to see- the door was made of rough wood. But he trusted her not to.
Everyone is 21