It's all my fault. No matter how much I blame the GPS it was still my mistake. Trusting technology over common sense got us into this situation. Damn! I can call it a situation, but it's more serious than that would ever convey. We're lost. Stranded and freezing. We could soon die, if we don't do something. If I don't do something. It's all my fault.

The sandy surface of the California shore was burning our bare feet as we crossed down closer to the tide line. Daphne was kicking the sand up with her wriggling toes, as she giggled and tickled my palm with her long, delicate fingers. Then she spread out our large beach towels, and I placed the picnic basket where we could reach it. I gazed out at the waves rolling in, and felt the sun in my eyes, and on my brow.

A trickle of perspiration dripped down my temple. After wiping it away I put an arm around Daphne hugging her close. Her soft skin was damp with moisture. I bent to taste her kiss, and the salty droplets on her moist lips. It was good to be with the one I loved most in the world. We had driven here in my Range Rover wearing our bathing suits. Now I put up a beach umbrella to give us some shade from the shimmering sunlight.

Daphne was wearing a new bikini, purchased just for this trip to Carmel-by-the-Sea. At just over five feet tall, she was like a pixie, with a dancer's legs. They were taut and firm, from the work she did at the barre. Her breasts were small, but upright, and they were now sweating through her bikini top. Whenever I touched her she became aroused. It was adorable the way her nipples would project out, sometimes causing her to blush, adding to her charm. She had allowed me into her life.

It was an unseasonably balmy fall here on the coast. October usually cooled off the air north of Los Angeles along the shore, and in the coastal mountains west of the Central Valley. But this year we were feeling the effects of odd weather patterns. The state was suffering drought. The skies displayed few clouds and little rain. We were glad to be on the beach enjoying swimming in the still cool waters, as we delighted in our honeymoon holiday.

The shore was completely empty of vacationers, or beachcombers. There had been no storms for weeks, so few were gathering the sea shells tossed up by inclement weather. Besides, it was Friday, and kids were in school. Parents were back at work. We had the beach to ourselves. We could have walked from L'Auberge Carmel, but Daphne's feet were tender.

We sat and cuddled, mixing the perspiration on our damp flesh. Her chin lifted as she sought my mouth, and she ran her fingers through my hair. Daphne's tongue softly and hesitantly sought mine, then they met, fervently.

Daphne keeps falling asleep, and I awaken her, as gently as I can, but forcefully. She mustn't lose consciousness. Neither of us may. That would end in our taking the long sleep. The descent into darkness, and the abyss. Our shivering bodies cling to each other, and we whisper soft words of love and regret. She doesn't blame me. No, she tries to blame herself, but that will not do. The burden is mine.

I looked up and glanced both directions along the beachfront. No one in sight. I smiled and quickly pulled the slipknot at the back of Daphne's bikini top. I pulled it off as she giggled. Then she took the initiative and reached into my trunks, finding a hardness to stroke. I moaned with gratitude. I returned the favor, swiftly and precisely pressing my calloused fingers into her bare, swollen mound. My little ballerina was always eager to feel my sculptor's hands on her treasure.

I rose up and hunched out of my trunks. My manhood sprang free. Daphne discarded her bottoms too. I lay back again, allowing her to take the position she loved. She straddled me, facing out to sea, and I held her waist as she guided my girth into her slit with her small hands. I chuckled as I saw the dimples above her rounded derriere. Then she settled down, slipping my stiff member deeper into her tight pussy. She called out, louder than the quarreling gulls, "Julian, my love."

Her strong legs controlled her rise and fall. I fondled her poor feet, heartbreakingly damaged from her discipline, and caressed her long red hair. It was frizzy in the sea air, even if there was little moisture in the atmosphere. I pulled it as I humped up to thrust into her honeyed chamber. She cried with ecstatic passion as she took me faster, delighting my senses. I could hear her bell like voice, and felt her fluids flowing down my shaft. Her body made love to mine, and we were close. It was always good to share orgasmic rhythms.

We did feel it together. My seed burst forth, jetting into her, and her spasms gripped my shaft, as she felt her own sweet joy. It caused her body to tremble, and she continued rising and falling, with a suctioning motion, feeling me filling her. Her artistic fingers were gripping my thighs, leaving tingling impressions of her fervor. We came. 

I start the engine of the Range Rover one more time. The fuel gauge still registers empty. I let it run until it abruptly chokes and dies. We didn't really get any heat from the effort. We certainly didn't feel it in our deep core. And now the gas was gone. No more heat, and the drifting snow keeps covering the vehicle. I can see little out the rear window, other than large flakes, covering the trunk and glass. Our hands and feet are so cold. So dreadfully cold. 

We gathered our gear, walking back up a trail to the parking area. It was hot, even as the sun sank lower. The afternoon was nearing an end. Our lovemaking had been as fulfilling as always. Having the wine and cheese afterwards had been a tasty way to put a topping on our day's adventure.

The ocean had cooled us down as we swam offshore, but the sweat was breaking out again. We put our towels on the seats to keep them from getting wet. Our inn was close, in Carmel. It was a treat for both of us. I was a "starving" artist, and she was a dancing instructor. But she deserved it, for being the light in my darkness.

She had been in some local dance troops in Southern California, but had never been fortunate enough to be a star. Dancing was her life, though. Until I found her. Now she told me I was her life. The same was true for me.

I was working on a sculpture of her en pointe. I didn't usually work in a realistic format, and an abstract piece might actually capture her essence. But for my first love gift I wanted to display her as she first appeared that day in the studio. Back arched, arm curved above her head, and both feet raising her up to glory. Her strength and red hair, in it's little bun, would work well in bronze.

That evening we dined at the Dametra Cafe. We both loved Mediterranean food. If we had been a little richer we might have sailed away to Greece for our honeymoon. But this was perfect, anyway. We got back to the inn before midnight, with plenty of time to play. Daphne was holding my hand, caressing the rough skin. That came from working with metal and stone. They were hard, but could be gentle to those I adored.

We had both worked up a sweat again, as we walked back to the inn. The weather was maintaining it's unusual heat. As I waited for Daphne to come out of the bathroom I idly srtoked my prick. I saw her in my mind's eye, with her conical breasts, and the pink nipples jutting out. I drifted, gratefully thanking the gods for my good fortune. She came out smiling at me.

"Julian, please let me do that. My hands are small, but if I use both I can handle you, sir."

She hopped on the bed, gleefully grabbing my hardness, and then squeezing my jewels, gently. I became more rigid, and reached out to pull her close. I could handle her like a toy, she was so tiny. As she giggled, I rested her upon the bed, on her hands and knees, and leaned down to taste her nectar.

"Ah, Julian. You know how I love that. Please, baby. Do that. Make me come for you baby."

I was busy for many minutes. Making my soul mate happy. She trembled through several small orgasms, and finally a long and shuddering come that made me want to really delight her with some deep fucking. That would come next. She knew that as she moaned into the bedsheets, begging for my fervid love making.

"Julian, may I ask something, baby? Would we be warmer if our bodies could touch? Would that help us? I'm so cold dear. So cold. May we try that Julian?"

We do that. Our teeth are chattering as we slip out of our layers of clothes, then wrap them about us once more. Our bodies do feel a little warmer. It's a good way to go. Close and loving. Feeling the warmth of your lover as you accept the end. The end of a love story.

Just a few smacks of my hand on her round, taut butt. That's what she enjoyed, as I pressed my hard cock deeper into her wetness. She giggled, and then whimpered, but I was giving her the lustful and passionate love making she wanted. Thrusting my rod into her, just a little rough, just a little, and feeling her pussy gripping my prick. Such a tight little cunny. Mine now, to give her pleasure. To please her as I pleased myself. I came as she was biting the bedsheets, feeling my fucking, my power. So good. So good.

As we relaxed later, I was holding her with a freckled cheek on my shoulder. We were contented, and then I told her my little surprise.

"It's so hot here, Daphne.

We've enjoyed it, but I think we could use a little change. Shall we get up into the mountains, away from this heat? Actually, while you were exercising this afternoon I made some calls. I got us a room reserved for tomorrow. It's up in the Sierra Nevadas. Black Bear Inn. It isn't really snowing yet, but it should be cooler. What do you think? We can play up there in the mountain air."

"Julian...I thought we were going home this weekend. Can we really afford it? I mean, it'll be on Saturday and Sunday nights. Right? Is it expensive?"

"Sweetheart, this is the only honeymoon we'll ever have. I want us to make some memories. We can walk among the Sequoias, and maybe see a theater group. They have lots of things to do. And we have things to do too, even in our room, alone. True, babe?"

"You're naughty, my big artist. You're an artist in more ways than one." She giggled and grabbed my semi-soft manhood.

Daphne is touching me. I am getting a little hard. I don't really control it. She has that affect on me, even now. Even when we are lost and slowly succumbing to the depths of the frigid weather. I draw her closer, as she huddles down into the clothes and single blanket we have to cover ourselves. Her shivering lips are now touching me, and I respond.

We arrived Saturday afternoon, following a drive of several hours. We drove from the west coast over to the eastern side of the state, ending up in the Sierra Nevada range, and the town of Arnold. The staff at the inn were able to make us reservations for a play the next afternoon. And we would spend two nights, leaving on Monday morning. There was no snow on the ground. It was too early in the season.

It was not too late, so we drove over to the nearest grove of Sequoias, at Calaveras Big Trees State Park. Living in this state you would think we would both have seen them, but not true. Quite often we get caught up in daily stuff and don't visit the sites that people come to see from all over the world. So we walked, hand in hand, through the big trees. Until I swept her up, and behind one of them. No one could see us. No one was around, anyway.

"What's your plan, big man? You always have a plan, don't you baby?"

I was grinning down at her. I knelt down, lifted her skirt, and pulled her panties down. Her little pussy was wet already. Then I rose and let her know what my plan was. I opened my belt buckle, unzipped, and pulled my prick out, before it had become too large. But it was growing.

Her ass cheeks were in my hands, and I lifted her up, pressing her against the reddish bark. Her small hand reached down to guide me into her tight slit. I slowly offered her my erection, slipping into shaved pussy. Then her mouth began sucking on my tongue, as I fucked her, jerking her like a little doll. I could have snapped her in half, but I loved her so much. I gave her what she could take, no more.

And we came together again. Once more.

I grow larger within her mouth, and she grips it tighter, as I fuck her, loving her, the way she makes love to me. This is love. We are ending and she is loving me. I spread my large thighs slightly and begin giving her more of my cock. Her mouth is dry, but it is sweet, and I fuck it. It doesn't take long. She has tickled me with her fingers, jacking me as she bobs her head, and I groan and come. I think she may have too. She does that.

We spent that Saturday evening dining at the inn, and then going to bed early. We had made love so often that we decided to take a break. We didn't talk about it. We just went to bed and drifted off, holding each other.

The next day we got up late, had a brunch in our room, and went out to a matinee. We drove around afterwards, doing some sightseeing, and stopped for some fast food. It was still early, so I pointed the Range Rover up one of the gravel roads heading into the Stanislaus National Forest. I put on the GPS, with the inn as our destination. I was assuming it would continually update, and lead us back later. Daphne was having fun.

We drove carefully, watching the landscape around us, and talking about our future together. As we drove the GPS was softly telling me that it was recalculating. I had the volume low, so it would not disturb us, and we continued up and down the valleys of the forest. It was getting darker so I started following the instructions of the navigation system. I believed it would get us back to the inn. It shouldn't take more than an hour I told Daphne.

It was too late when I realized that the system was taking me down a road that was almost completely washed out. Daphne cried out, pointing to a group of deer on a hill to the right of us. I looked, taking my eyes off the track momentarily. My front axle became stuck on a ridge in the trail. As I tried to back up I knew that I was stuck. Getting out I told Daphne it would be fine. I wasn't sure. My first reaction was to call for help. But our cellphones both had no bars at all.

Several hours later, when it was completely dark out, I concluded that I was not going to be able to dig us out. I lacked the proper tools, could barely see anything, and it was getting rather cold. I decided that spending the night in the Range Rover was our only option right now. I had no idea how far away the nearest highway, or cabin, would be. We had eaten late, so we weren't overly hungry. And I always had water in the vehicle.

Daphne is crying. I try to soothe her, but I'm not too effective. I feel the emotions myself. I know it won't be long. I'm finding it harder to stay awake. I take my first and only soul mate into my arms, tighter, and we both begin breathing slower and deeper as our bodies relax. We're losing consciousness. We're out.

The morning sun shone into the vehicle from the east. Luckily we were not too far down a valley, so the sun woke us fairly early. My phone said it was 9:30 in the morning of the 29th of September, 2014. It still had no bars at all.

As we stretched and rubbed our eyes we both noticed the white flakes falling from the sky. Working frantically with my hands and a tire iron I tried to dig us out, but the snow continued to fall, and it got colder and colder. It was now use. I was unable to free us, and tried to stay warm in the Range Rover, while the weather just got worse as the day and night passed.

I feel nothing. The coldness has seeped into my bones. I don't know what has awakened me, but I want to sleep. I don't want to wake up. I try to grasp my soul mate. I try but there is no feeling in my fingers to hold Daphne closer.

My first thought was to wonder where Daphne was. I came wide awake, shouting out her name. A nurse came rushing into the room. At first my brain thought all the whiteness was snow. I slowly became aware that I was in a hospital. It was not freezing. It was cool, but we were not lost in a snowstorm. Wait, where is Daphne? That was all I cared about.

"Mister Cramer, please, it's alright. Your wife's in another room. It's fine. You have to relax. Doctor will be in to talk to you in just a few minutes. Let me call him. Alright, Mister Cramer?"

"Yes, but I have to know, how she is. Tell me she's alright." I reached out, pleadingly, and noticed both hands were completely covered with white bandages. "Wait, what's wrong with my hands? What happened? Please tell what's happening."

"Doctor has to talk to you. You'll be okay, and so will your wife. You both'll be fine. Please, let Doctor tell you everything."

It was more than a few minutes, but the doctor finally arrived. Pain relievers had helped to calm me, but I needed to know so many things.

"So, Julian, the forest service found you after a long hunt. You'd been reported missing on Monday morning by the inn you were supposed to be staying at. But what with the freak storm we had this early in the year, it was the next day before a plane actually spotted your car out on the timber road. When they found you and got you in to the hospital here there were complications. You and Daphne were alive, but we had to do some repair work."

"Doctor, I have to know, how did Daphne do? What's wrong with her?'

"She lost some toes. I know, I know, that's horrible. But she's alive. She'll be fine."

"She's a dancer. She dances ballet. Are you saying that's over? She's lost that?"

"There is no way to really tell. A lot depends upon her strength, both physical and mental. The same holds for you, sir. You haven't asked me, but you have also lost some extremities. You lost some phalanges. Sorry, some of your finger joints. The same prognosis holds true for you. It depends upon you."

"I'm a sculptor. I work with my hands. But I'll be okay. I'll figure it out. It's Daphne I worry about."

"Okay, Julian, I'll have an orderly take you down to your wife in a wheelchair. I'll call for someone. When you get there I'll be talking to Daphne myself."

It didn't matter. I should never have doubted her. She wanted me. She didn't blame me. She continues to teach. She still takes classes, as all dancers do. And I still sculpt. Her statue, my bronze, won an award. She rewarded me for my win in the best of ways. Making love as soul mates. Life would always be good.