Chapter 4

Thursday, August 25, 2016 – Park Warden’s House

Blake woke up first on the third morning. He was surprised but pleased to see sunlight streaming through the cracks in the storm shutters in his bedroom window. He was cuddled with Sarah. Blake wrapped his arms around his lover and gently caressed her breasts. His morning woody was stuffed between her thighs. Sarah purred in her sleep to the stimulation Blake was giving her. They added realism to the erotic dream she was having.

Blake could feel Sarah’s juices beginning to coat the upper side of his pecker. He humped his woody back and forth in her slot as he felt up her chest. The stimulation became too much for the slumbering girl. Sarah awoke, realizing that the good fucking she was dreaming of was at hand in real life. She reached between her legs and pushed the knob of Blake’s pecker against her hole.

“Do me, Blake,” Sarah begged. The boy’s hips went into action immediately, forcing his five and a half inches of erection into the willing and well-lubricated young woman. Three thrusts buried him balls deep in his lover. Blake worked his pecker in and out, both teens enjoying the stimulation of bare cock sliding into a bare vaginal sheath. The fourteen year old boy managed to last four or five minutes before blowing another white, sticky load of semen and sperm into Sarah’s belly.

“What a lovely way to wake up,” Sarah said as she gave her lover a kiss when they separated.

“My pleasure,” Blake replied.

“I am sure it was,” Sarah agreed. The two headed to the bathroom and cleaned up as best they could with cold water and wash cloths. The two made themselves breakfast.

“What do you want to do today other than the obvious shagging?” Blake asked as they ate.

“You are incorrigible,” Sarah responded. “Sex, morning, noon and night.”

“You seem to enjoy it too,” Blake countered. “You’ve never refused it.”

“Except once last night when I was too sore,” Sarah added. “Do you think our dads will be back today? I am starting to worry about them a little.”

“My dad knows the park backwards and forwards,” Blake replied. “He knows camping. I am sure they are fine. They’ll probably come rolling in sometime this morning with the backpackers.”

“That will be nice,” Sarah said. “What do you want to do today?” She laughed. “Other than the obvious.”

“Between shaggings I thought we could take a drive down to the campground and see how bad the damage is to it,” Blake suggested.

“Will it be OK for you to drive on the road?” Sarah asked.

“Have you heard any cars on Cabot Trail in the past two days?” Blake asked. “I doubt a policeman is going to find me driving underage in the half kilometer between here and the campground.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Sarah agreed. The teens washed up, made some breakfast and then headed outside. The sun was out, with a few clouds. A steady breeze blew in from the sea. Thankfully the rain was gone. They had to gather up some branches and debris to clear the driveway and get the maintenance building garage doors open. They unloaded the loose items they gathered up from the campground two days earlier. They piled them along the side of the one bay of the building. Blake carefully backed the pickup truck out, picked up Sarah and then headed for the campground.

Cabot Trail, the main road through the park, was deserted, as they expected. They had to dodge two downed trees to reach the entrance to the campground. Blake had to dodge a piece of corrugated metal roof to get in the entrance.

“That’s not good,” Blake commented. “I wonder which roof that came from.”

Blake dodged a couple trees that had fallen along the entrance road leading back to the campgrounds. Blake turned left at the first intersection to check out the tent sites. Scattered trees were down as they drove around the loop. Picnic tables and fire rings were flipped. One table had been smashed by a fallen tree.

They returned to the main road and drove down to the RV and camper section of the campgrounds. The storm felled more trees in this area than on the higher, tenting section of the campground. Very few picnic tables remained where they had been placed. The door to the first washroom they reached was ripped off its hinges and was laying about a 100 feet north of the washroom. Part of the metal roof was missing.

“Now we know where that piece of roof at the entrance came from,” Blake commented as they drove down the hill, further into the section. Blake had to pull off the road and drive through campsites twice to get past fallen trees. Blake stopped the truck abruptly when they reached the lower end of the campground. Little stood as it had been two days earlier. The ocean storm surge had ripped all brush and vegetation out of the ground, except for mowed grass areas. More trees were down than standing in this section.

Blake and Sarah just stared at the washroom closest to the beach. The roof had been ripped off. All doors were gone. The concrete block walls showed cracks where the storm surge tried to demolish the building.

“The park isn’t going to be happy about this,” Blake commented. He drove them down to the beach, where they got the biggest shock of all. The sandbar of the beach crossed Warren Brook, normally turning the brook into a pond with a little trickle of water through the sand and out to the ocean. Now there was a 100 meter gap with no beach. Ocean waves were rolling up into Warren Brook’s small pond and out again.

“It’s not that bad,” Sarah said. “The beach still looks like you could use it. As a matter of fact, why don’t we come down this afternoon for a swim? It could help pass the time until the electricity comes back on.”

“The water is probably freezing,” Blake said. “It always gets cold after a big storm.”

“Let’s check it out,” Sarah suggested. She hopped out of the truck before Blake could answer. He followed her down to the water’s edge. She put a hand down to test the water. “Not too bad.” Sarah sat down and pulled her sneakers and socks off and waded into the small surf. “This could be fun for a while.”

Blake put his hand down in the water. “It is warmer than normal for late August,” Blake allowed. “It might not be too bad for swimming if we don’t stay in too long.”

“Swimming this afternoon,” Sarah yelled as she scampered back to the truck. Blake followed behind her.

The teens finished touring the campground. The lower end was a disaster area. The storm surge had destroyed nearly everything in its path. The only good thing about the damage was that the park would have to hire work crews to repair it. There was no way Blake and his dad could repair everything over the winter.

The teens headed back to Blake’s house to kill time. They managed to keep their hands off each other’s private parts for the rest of the morning. They expected their dads to return anytime. They didn’t. The pair made lunch and then drove down to the beach.

Scattered clouds remained from the hurricane. It brought semi-tropical temperatures up to Nova Scotia. The thermometer read 30 degrees Celsius at Blake’s house. Sarah shed her T-shirt and shorts when they reached the beach, uncovering a very revealing bikini. That caught Blake’s attention immediately. His pecker swelled as he stared at his barely clad lover.

“Last one in the ocean is a rotten egg!” Sarah yelled as she dashed for the water. Blake took off after a moment’s hesitation ran after her. They reached the water at the same time. Blake waded out into the surf while Sarah dived into an oncoming wave, disappearing underwater for moment. The frigid water, at least 10 degrees Celsius colder than the air, shriveled Blake’s inflating pecker and balls.

Blake swam like a boy from Nova Scotia – competent but not proficient. The water was too cold to enjoy swimming in the ocean very often. Sarah on the other hand was a regular water rat. She started swimming lessons when she was still in diapers. She swam for the local swim team when she was younger. She was able to swim circles around Blake.

They played in the cold water, splashing each other and trying to dunk each other. Blake had size and muscle on his side when he went after her. She frequently managed to dive under water and swim away. Sarah was surprisingly effective in taking down Blake. She’d dive underwater and attack from an unexpected direction unseen. She attacked at his ankles. No matter how big you are, you are going down when someone takes your ankles out from under you.

The rough-housing led to some misplaced hands. Breasts, butt cheeks and once Blake’s pecker and balls were grabbed. Sarah apologized profusely for that mistake. She valued those items much too highly to want them injured. The two randy teens’ play degenerated into grab-ass and then a hot make out session standing in the surf. The two decided it was time to sunbathe when they realized they were shivering from cold as the kissed and groped each other.

Sarah and Blake dried off with towels and then lay down on the old blanket Blake brought from the house. The randy teens tickled and teased each other as they talked and dried off from their swim. Soon they escalated to snogging. After a few minutes Blake slipped and hand down onto Sarah’s chest. He slipped his hand under the bikini top and popped it off her breast.

“BLAKE!” Sarah protested. “This is too public here.”

“Public?” Blake responded. “The campground is closed and deserted. You see all the trees down here. I guarantee that trees have the road closed too. That’s why we haven’t seen anybody on Cabot Trail for the past three days.”

“I don’t know,” Sarah hesitated. “It feels so naughty.”

“And you love it,” Blake responded. He popped her other breast free of the bikini top. Blake kissed down her neck and then suckled at her left breast. “You know you love it, Sarah.”

“I do,” she gasped. The two petted and made out lustily. Blake slipped one hand down to Sarah’s muff and pushed aside the tiny bikini bottom. He stroked and finger-fucked the girl as they prepared for the next step.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this in public,” Sarah would protest periodically.

“You love it,” Blake purred back as he continued to stroke two fingers in and out of his lover. Blake could feel the excitement in Sarah’s voice. Protests aside, she wanted this very much.

“Let’s take off your bikini bottoms,” Blake suggested. Sarah cooperatively raised her backside to make it easier for Blake to remove them. He slid them off her legs and tossed them aside. He went back to fingering Sarah as he sprawled over her body. The two engaged tongues again.

The kids made out and rubbed their nearly naked bodies together. Sarah rubbed her hands up and down Blake’s back and sides as they snogged. She let her hands slip down onto Blake’s butt cheeks.

“You’re naked!” Sarah bemoaned. “You are a bad ... bad ... boy. Why did you take off you shorts?”

“To shag you properly,” Blake replied.

“In public? Where everyone in the world can see us?” Sarah asked.

“In public,” Blake confirmed. “Where anyone within a mile of us can see us screw each other silly. And you love it.”

“You’re crazy,” Sarah retorted. Blake hunched his abdomen upward and notched his pecker against Sarah’s hole. “We can’t have sex here on the beach.”

“Why not?” Blake asked. He thrust his hips forward, burying a couple inches of his pecker inside Sarah as he asked the question.

“Oh ... God!” Sarah protested. Blake wiggled his hips and impaled another couple inches of his meat in her wet and very welcoming vagina. “This is so bad!”

Blake thrust again, burying his pecker and slapping his pubic area against Sarah’s. “And you love it, don’t you?”

“Ooohh...” Sarah moaned. Blake began stroking and thrusting his pecker in and out of Sarah. Sarah’s mind was a war with itself as Blake continued shagging her. It was totally wrong and slutty to screw a boy on the public beach where everyone could see them. Yet, the naughtiness turned her on and made Blake’s motions doubly stimulating.

Sarah’s body unconsciously made a choice for her. It began humping back in time to Blake’s wondrous thrusts. The teen pair made glorious love in the bright sun, twenty feet from the crash of the hurricane driven surf.

Blake managed to keep from coming much longer than he expected. Finally after four or five minutes of fucking, he felt his orgasm approach. He slammed his pecker into his lover repeatedly, trying to get the maximum from the short time remaining before he came. Sarah could feel the good feelings approach too as Blake bashed and rubbed his pubic area against her clitoris repeatedly.

Blake’s eyes went unfocused and he slammed into Sarah one last time before freezing and the spurting gobs of semen and sperm into his lover’s vagina. He collapsed on Sarah when he was spent.

“You were right,” Sarah whispered into Blake’s ear as he lay on her, comatose. “Screwing in public is quite a turn-on. I’m glad we did this.”

“Mmmph...” Blake mumbled. Sarah cuddled and hugged her lover as he recovered. Finally aware again, Blake thanked Sarah for a good time by kissing her deeply.

“I guess we should clean up,” Blake suggested after a few minutes of kissing.

“Skinny dipping?” Sarah asked.

“Works for me,” Blake agreed. The two naked teens dashed into the surf and washed away the sweat, semen, sperm and lubrication left over from the sexual escapade. The cold water temperature drove the pair out of the water in a few minutes.

“I guess maybe we should head back to the house in case our dads get back,” Blake suggested.

“That’s probably a wise idea,” Sarah agreed. “We don’t want them coming down here finding us naked like this.”

“That would be bad,” Blake agreed. The two dressed and then Blake drove them back to his house. There was no sign of their dads when they got back. The pair settled in to play cards to kill time. Rummy lost its appeal after a while and they switched to poker – strip poker to make it interesting. Neither Blake nor Sarah proved to be good card players. Soon both teens were naked and looking for something other than cards to play.

They settled on Truth or Dare, but without the truth. Blake dared Sarah to allow him to smear peanut butter on her breasts and have him lick it off. She loved that dare. Sarah dared Blake to put two ice cubes in his boxers and wear them for five minutes. That was damned chilly. Blake retaliated by making Sarah wear a T-shirt soaked in cold water for fifteen minutes.

Sarah challenged Blake to allow her to write on his butt cheeks. To his shock she wrote “sweet cheeks” with a permanent marker. That was going to earn him some teasing at school if it didn’t wash off before his first gym class. Blake made Sarah demonstrate how she masturbated, using a cucumber. Sarah made Blake eat the cucumber. He liked the taste of it.

Blake challenged Sarah to masturbate him, except she couldn’t use her hands. She eventually came up with the idea of having him titty fuck her until he came. Sarah was so horny by the time Blake came all over her chest and neck that she stroked his pecker and kissed him hard until he got an erection again. She had Blake screw her six ways to Sunday before she was satisfied. The pair cuddled for fifteen minutes after they satisfied their passions.

“Do you think we should go up the dirt road and look for our dads?” Sarah asked as they recovered from their coupling.

“We could,” Blake agreed. “I am confident my dad had no problem riding out the storm somewhere but I am getting concerned he and your dad haven’t gotten back yet. I wonder if the trail is blocked by downed trees?”

“That certainly is possible,” Sarah agreed.

“We have a couple hours until dark, we could scout out the route up towards St. Mary’s Falls,” Blake suggested. “Maybe we could help clear the road or something.”

“Let’s try,” Sarah said. “I enjoy shagging with you but I want to feel useful in this emergency.”

“I love what we are doing but I agree with you,” Blake responded. “Let’s go see if we can help our dads bring the backpackers out.” The teens dressed and headed out to the maintenance building. They took the park pickup truck north on St. Mary’s Falls Road.

Trees had fallen over into the dirt and gravel roadway. Fortunately, St. Mary’s Falls Road was a major road and was about ten meters wide. The managed to drive around all the trees that partially blocked the roadway. The teens went about two and a half kilometers before they had to stop.

A large pine tree completely blocked the roadway.

“Now what?” Sarah asked.

“I’ll try the winch and see if we can pull it out of the road,” Blake answered. He pulled the front of the truck right up to the top of the tree on the left side of the road. He showed Sarah how to release the winch so he could drag the cable into the trunk of the tree and hook it. The winch cable was too short to reach the main trunk. Blake tried attaching the cable to one of the smaller branch. The winch managed to snap the smaller branch off but didn’t budge the tree.

“Shit!” Blake growled. “I should have brought the chains and ropes. That was stupid of me.”

“Can we go back and get them?” Sarah asked.

“It will be nearly dark by the time we get back here,” Blake replied. “The best we can do is come out tomorrow morning and pull this tree out of our way.”

“OK,” Sarah said. “I’d like to find Dad, but I guess I will accept the consolation prize, spending another night in your bed.”

“I’m a consolation prize?” Blake teased. “You’re going to get it!”

“Promises, promises,” Sarah responded. “Let’s see if you live up to them tonight.”

The teens headed back to Blake’s house. They made supper by candle light. They made a meal from the Hawkins family freeze dried emergency food stash instead of the refrigerator. That food was beginning to smell funky after three days without electricity to provide cooling. The pair had no idea of the exact time. Both kids’ phones had died. All the clocks in Blake’s house ran on electricity, so they were useless too.

They kids went to bed early. Blake made sure Sarah got plenty of what she was asking for earlier in the evening. They shagged three times before falling into sweaty, though satisfied sleep.

Thursday, August 25, 2016 – Crevice Shelter Breton Highlands

Tony Desjardins stirred first in the cramped crevice shelter on the third morning since the storm hit. Sun was lighting up the top of the rocks above their door. Jim Hawkins looked up at Tony.

“Storm has passed us,” Tony remarked.

“Good,” Jim replied. “Now we can get ourselves out of this mess and back home where all of us belong.”

“Are we going to pack everything this morning?” Tony asked. “I hope we clear all the trees and get out today, but if we don’t we can camp nearer to where we are working and make things easier tomorrow.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Jim agreed.

“You and Mike are welcome to share space in our tents tonight, if we need them,” Tony offered.

“Mike and I have shelter,” Jim said. “That won’t be necessary.” The talking woke up the rest of the crew. They ate a backpacker’s breakfast of oatmeal, granola bars, beef jerky and coffee. Everyone packed their gear and loaded it on the two Gators. The chain saws went on top of the load. They would be needed soon.

Jim led the way up the two kilometers of trail to where they stopped off last night. The trail was muddy but passable. No more trees had fallen to block the group’s way since last night. They crossed over the headwaters of Mary Ann Brook and started up the hill. The hillside was heavily wooded. The four men needed the better part of the morning to clear all the downed trees blocking the trail in the 400 meter stretch along hill side. Deep blue Branch Lake, half a kilometer down the hill, beckoned to the men as they sweated and worked to free the trail.

The next couple kilometers went by quickly. The only had to cut up and move three trees. Jim was getting hopeful that they had passed the worst of the storm damage. They were over halfway from Lake of Islands to the St. Mary’s Falls Road.

Hopes were dampened when they reached the heavily wooded stretch of trail near Brock Lake. They needed almost two hours to cut up and move a dozen trees blocking the trail. The small caravan motored ahead 3.6 kilometers, only needing to stop to cut up four trees along that stretch of trail. Jim hopes swelled when they passed the small cabin along the side of the trail. He knew it was 1.4 kilometers from the hut to St. Mary’s Falls Road. The sun was setting to the west, behind the group. Maybe they could reach the road and get home around dark.

Jim’s heart sank as he turned the next corner in the trail. He raised his hand to warn Mike and came to a sudden stop. The woods that had surrounded the trail three days ago were nearly gone. It looked as if the hand of God came down and smashed every tree flat to the ground. The pines and deciduous trees were tangled in the tight mass of branches, leaves and needles that looked impenetrable.

“Let’s get to work, people,” Jim announced as he hopped out of the Gator. “You know the drill.”

Nick announced, “Gabby and Audrey, why don’t the two of you set up our tents over by that cabin. We can stay there tonight and Jim and Mike can sleep in the cabin.”

“That sounds good,” Jim agreed. “We aren’t getting through this brush pile before dark.”

The men worked at hacking and cutting a trail through the tangle. The ladies set up camp and cooked dinner for the group. They called the men for dinner just as darkness fell. The men had cleared about 200 hundred meters of trail.

Jim and Mike spread their sleeping bags on the floor of the tiny cabin. Nick and Audrey and Tony and Gabrielle retired to their tents for the night.

  Chapter Five

Friday, August 26, 2016 – Park Warden’s House

“Wake up, sleepyhead,” Sarah announced.

“Huh?” Blake responded groggily.

“We have to move some trees and help our dads get home,” Sarah said.

“No time for fun this morning?” Blake asked.

“I’d love to but ... we’ve been going at it like, uh...” Sarah

“Sex fiends?” Blake suggested. “Rabbits in heat?”

“Whichever,” Sarah agreed. “I am getting a little sore and what we are doing ... you know screwing without protection isn’t totally safe.”

“Yeah, but you said we are close enough to your period that I can’t get you knocked up,” Blake said.

“Probably not from what we have done already,” Sarah said. “The problem is that there is no line between a safe time of month and an unsafe time of month for unprotected sex. The divide is a fuzzy gray line. It is hard to see.”

“Oh...” Blake sighed. “Oh ... kay.” He had really hoped for another wake-me-up fuck.

The two cleaned up, brushed their teeth and grabbed breakfast before heading out to the maintenance building. Blake threw ropes, chains, hand saws and a couple axes in the back of the pickup truck. They stopped at the tree that blocked them last night about ten minutes later. Blake crawled under the tree and ran a chain around three of the main branches near the top of the tree. The chain was hooked up to the truck’s winch. Between the winch and backing the truck up a little, Blake and Sarah had the road open in fifteen minutes.

Blake and Sarah found three more trees blocking their way north as they drove towards St. Mary’s Falls. They disposed of one with a bow saw and axe, clearing enough of the tree top to allow them to pass. The other two trees required chains and the winch to be dragged out of the way.

Blake turned left onto a side road about two kilometers short of St. Mary’s Falls. This road led down to St. Mary’s Brook and to the trail into the interior of the park. Sarah and Blake had to move three trees out of the way on this 0.7 kilometer stretch of dirt and gravel road. Blake stopped the truck at the small parking area at the end of the road beside St. Mary’s Brook.

“Now what?” Sarah asked.

“We can hang out here and wait and see if our dads show up here,” Blake said, “or we could hike back the trail and see if we can find signs of them.”

“I’d rather walk than sit and hope they show up,” Sarah said.

The two teens waded across St. Mary’s Brook and started west. They only got about 60 meters into the woods before they ran into the area where a downburst from the hurricane had flattened the forest. The two looked at the downed trees and tangled branches and limbs.

“No wonder our dads haven’t gotten back yet,” Blake said. “It could take a week to chain saw a path through this mess.”

“Could they hike around this?” Sarah asked.

“I guess they could,” Blake answered. “I’m not sure how much better that would be. The ground is rocky and covered with thick, waist-high ground cover where it isn’t forested. I think they are more likely to stick to the trail and use their chain saws to cut their way out.”

Sarah cocked her head and listened. “Is that chain saws working in the distance?” Blake listened carefully.

“It is,” he confirmed. “That must be our dads. No one else is going to be in the back country with chain saws after the hurricane but them.”

“How do we get to them?” Sarah asked. “Should we start cutting from this end too?”

“How about if we go back to the truck and blow the horn,” Blake suggested. “We can let them know we are here. I think we are better off waiting for them to cut their way out with the chain saws. They can take out a branch in two seconds that would take me a minute to cut with an axe.”

“You’re probably right,” Sarah agreed. The teens made their way back to the truck. Blake laid on the horn for a good long, “BEEEEEEEEEP ... BEEEEEEEEEP.”

Meanwhile, the front of the trail clearing crew, Mike Cooper asked, “Was that a car horn?”

“I believe it was,” Jim started to say as a second “beeeeep ... beeeeeeeep” sounded in the distance. “I think our rescue is at hand.”

“Nick, Tony? Did you hear that?” Mike called back. “Jim thinks we have rescuers ahead looking for us.”

“Excellent news,” Tony called back.

The crew went back to work, cutting and dragging the branches off the trail. It took them almost half an hour before they made contact with the rescue team. Calls of “Dad” and “Daddy” caught Mike and Jim’s attention.

“Blake, is that you?” Jim called out.

“Yeah, I’m here, Dad,” Blake answered.

“Sarah?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Sarah replied to her father.

“Who else is with you?” Jim called.

“It’s just me and Sarah,” Blake answered. “We have the road cleared from the brook back to our house.”

“Has anyone from the park been by since the hurricane ended?” Jim called out.

“Nobody,” Blake answered. “The power, phone and internet are all down. No one has driven up Cabot Trail either. I suspect it’s blocked by downed trees too.”

“Most likely it is,” Jim confirmed. “You and Sarah hang loose over there. Mike and I will get this tangle of trees cut down in a few minutes.”

It was closer to twenty minutes until Jim and Mike had cleared a path through the brush. Sarah ran to and hugged her dad when the chainsaws were turned off. Blake attempted to play the too cool teen for a moment before he was swept up by his emotions. He hugged Jim tightly. It was great to be reunited with his dad.

The group loaded up the Gators and drove through the 0.8 kilometer tunnel they had cut through the blow down zone. Blake and Sarah met them at the brook and helped transfer gear into the back of the pickup truck, where it would be more secure. Blake, proud that his dad allowed him to continue to drive the pickup, led the procession down St. Mary’s Falls Road to home.

Jim Hawkins invited the Browns and Desjardins to lunch at his house. He was embarrassed when he found out that the food in the refrigerator had spoiled and all he had to offer was backpacker’s lunches from his emergency food stash in the basement.

Jim invited everyone down to the campground beach after lunch to wash up after their ordeal in the Breton Highlands back country. Everyone except Blake and Sarah were shocked at the amount of damage the campground took from the hurricane. The Browns and Desjardins were delighted to see their cars still parked in the upper parking lot, intact and in good condition.

The dip in the cold ocean felt refreshing to the dirty trekkers and rescuers. Blake and Sarah watched as the grownups cleaned up. Blake earned a swat on the head from Sarah for playing too close of attention to Audrey and Gabrielle as they cleaned. The twenty-something ladies were good looking.

Jim Hawkins decided to explore to the south after everyone got back to the house. He wanted to see how much damage Cabot Trail may have sustained and how long his guests would be staying. He took a Gator, expecting to need to squeeze through some tight spots as he scouted the state of the public road.

Jim turned the corner as he passed the entrance to the campground. The long hill south stretched ahead. A small tree had fallen across the road part way up the 0.8 kilometer stretch of hill. Jim was able to drive around it. Ahead he could see a mass of green and brown covering the crest of the hill. His heart sank as he realized the downed trees had pulled down the power lines that crossed the road just at the crest of the hill.