I made multiple mistakes.
I decided to go hiking on along a remote mountain path in Sweden in early March. I packed well, including the gear I had used on my trip to the Himalayas a few years previously. I was well skilled at winter hiking. But, I had forgotten to check the forecast before I left. I had planned the route well, but I didn't take into account the risk of there being a blizzard lasting multiple days. That was my first mistake.
It started on the third day into the trip. I had planned for the hike to take approximately eight days, along a remote trail between two towns in Northern Sweden, between several lakes and forests. I was well provisioned, and I had even brought along a .22LR rifle that I had rented from a town along the way. But then, the blizzard hit on that third day. For the first day, I remained in my tent, only popping out to complete the necessaries. I ate most of my dried provisions that day, thinking the blizzard would pass that day. That was my second mistake.
The second day, I had to boil some water, but I had a hell of a time getting the camping stove lit. On top of that, I had to keep heading back into the tent to warm up. That was my third mistake. When I returned outside the last time, I realized that I had left the gas on without lighting it and the tank was empty.
The third day I was getting desperate, so I packed up my tent and headed out to find some shelter. That was my fourth mistake. If you've ever tried navigating in a blizzard, you'd know that you quickly get lost. But I was running out of water and food and getting colder by the hour. After several hours, I ended up finding the edge of a forest. I was exhausted, freezing, and starving, so I dug out a small snow cave near a tree and went to sleep. That was my last mistake. If you've ever tried sleeping while you are cold, you'd know that it's almost impossible. You don't want to move, yet you can't drift off because you keep waking up shivering.
At some point, I woke up. I had to piss really badly. Of course, the last thing I wanted to do was get up or open up all the layers I had on just to get to my dick. But I knew I had to do it. I pulled myself out of the snow cave and stood up near the tree. I thought about peeing right there, but I didn't feel right doing so. I walked a little further away and pulled out my dick and peed. It was heavenly. I did what all men do when you pee after waiting for so long: I looked to the heavens and sighed in satisfaction (or as close as I could get while shivering). That was when I saw it. A light, off in the distance.
I finished my piss and put my dick back in my pants and stared. It was definitely a light, and it wasn't natural. It had a geometric shape and wasn't diffuse. It looked close, too. Maybe a few hundred meters. I grabbed my pack and started walking.
As I got closer, I could make out more details. It looked like a cabin. I also caught a smell on the wind: woodsmoke. Now I knew that there were people and I might be okay. I was about halfway there when I stumbled for the first time. I was starting to feel my exhaustion even more now. My fingers and toes had become numb. The blizzard had also gotten worse. I was starting to lose the light from the house. I sped up my pace. I stumbled again closer to the house, but I kept on. As I got within a few dozen meters, I called out. I can't recall what I said, but I knew I was too hoarse to be heard. I reached the bottom of a set of steps and fell onto them. I wasn't able to lift myself to stand. I crawled up the steps. Luckily, there was only a few of them. I crawled across the porch. I saw the door. I reached out to it and before I could touch it, it opened.
There, standing in the doorway were two naked men, one blonde and one brunette. As I slipped into unconsciousness, all I could focus on were the monsters dangling between their rippling legs.
I only remember glimpses of what happened next. I remember being lifted like a baby. Then, I recall being moved to another building. These two men lay me down in a room that was extremely warm. The blonde one remained naked and undressed me so I would be better able to absorb the warmth. Then, he spooned with me in this room while I got warm. The brunette returned to the room, letting in blast of cold air, and poured water into my mouth. I recall accepting it greedily and then falling asleep again.
I became fully aware some time later, and I was in a bed, fully naked. It was heaped with blankets to the point where I felt almost crushed by them. I looked around. The room was small, with only this single bed in it, or what Europe considers a single bed to be, anyways. One side of the room was solid logs, meaning the cabin was an old-style log cabin. There was a window with light streaming through a single blind, which meant that it was daytime and I had been out for some time. The room was well-appointed as well, nicely decorated without being cluttered or garish. Simple, but effective. I also saw that my clothes and pack were in the room. My clothes looked like they had been cleaned and folded and were on a dresser, and my pack was resting against the same dresser. The room was also quite warm and I spotted a baseboard that was clearly responsible for that.
I climbed out of bed and went over to my pack. It was empty, so I opened the dresser to find all of the clothes in my pack had been put away. Well, at least these Swedes were as hospitable as all the other Swedes I had met so far. I put on some long johns, a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, a light sweater, and some socks and decided I should meet my hosts. I went to the door and opened it. I was welcomed by one of the most pleasant smells anyone can ever wake up to, cooking bacon. The door opened up into a common area, with a kitchen off to the left, the entryway off to the right, a bunch of couches and furniture directly in front, and a stairway in the back.
Sitting on one of the couches was the brunette, wearing little more than a pair of tight, white underwear. I was in awe of him. I had never been attracted to men and had never had trouble getting girls, but I knew that this man would have had it much easier than I did. I was 175cm tall and 80kg pounds of mostly muscle thanks to a regimen of fairly constant exercise throughout high school and college. I had a 12.7cm cut cock that was fairly thin, but I had never received any complaints.
But the brunette was much bigger in every way. I could tell that he had to be at least 200cm tall and 115kg of solid muscle. He was also packing some heavy heat in those white underpants. I mean, I couldn't tell if he was a grower or a shower, but as long as he didn't shrink when he got hard, he was already much bigger than me. He was reading a book while I stood there stumm, staring at him. He looked up and saw me.
"Ah, Sven, our guest has woken up." He put down the book and stood up, verifying my previous estimate of his size. He walked over to me and put out his hand. "How are you doing? Have you recovered? I am Bjorn, and over there in the kitchen is my friend Sven." He pointed over to the kitchen where I saw the blonde waving at me. Once again, I realized that my state the previous evening had left me unable to accurately estimate how large these men were. Sven was taller than Bjorn and slimmer. He must have been 205cm and 105kg. He also was wearing only some tight underwear, but he had an apron over it, clearly to protect him from the bacon grease.
"Uhhh, hi. Sorry, I'm still somewhat out of it." I lied. In reality, I was feeling pretty fine, but I was just a little overwhelmed that I had been saved by two stunning Swedish athletes and was feeling some strange feelings I had never had before.
"Of course, please come sit down on the couch, Sven will have breakfast ready in no time. He is really a very good cook." Bjorn took my hand and pulled me to the couch. I sat down and he sat down beside me and rested his hand on my thigh. It felt very intimate and I began to feel flushed fairly quickly. "You know, in some cultures, it's considered rude not to tell someone your name when they tell you theirs." Bjorn smiled at me, clearly not meaning that I had been rude.
"Sorry, of course. My name is Brad, which is short for Bradley." I responded.
