Soon the ground grew damp underfoot, the
grass sparse and reedy. Mud squelched up between his toes. He found
the river by stumbling through cattails into cold, rushing water
that closed over his head and blotted out the world. Further
downstream he resurfaced, sputtering and soaked. Where the current
slowed, he hauled himself up out of the river and collapsed onto
the far bank. Gasping to catch his breath, he unzipped his jumpsuit
and eased out of the wet material. Then he stripped off the
undershirt that clung to his chest and rolled off the boxers that
suddenly seemed two sizes too small.
Lying back, he cupped his cold balls with
both hands and tried to rub warmth into them. When his body began
to respond to his own touch, his fingers slowed, kneading tender
skin. One hand encircled his exposed cock, squeezed the hardening
length, and tugged at the tip. One thumb slipped lower to rim
shivering skin as his knees spread apart. In sudden ardor, he rose