The Cowboy and the Viing

Disclaimer:

The main characters are eighteen and all sex/sexual acts depicted are consensual.

A word to my readers:

This is an idealised first love story, condensed over a brief, intense period of days. It may lean toward the unrealistic, but it's a story I enjoyed writing and is definitely the most I've written in a single story to date.

Enjoy, and let me know what you think in the comments or message me. Always happy to hear from you.

S.A

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Chapter 1

It was coming up to six o'clock, and we were all in the kitchen waiting for Dad to come home from work. Mom was preparing dinner, and my sister Jen and I were setting the table as per the repeated instruction from our mom. The front door creaked open, and Dad burst into the room, unusually excited for this time of day.

"Everyone, I have news!" he announced, barely containing his enthusiasm.

We all paused, except Mom, who was still adding the final touches to dinner.

"What is it, hun?" she asked, deftly manoeuvring around the kitchen.

"You know I always listen to KCAL FM on the way home from work."

"You mean that station with the terrible music?" I interjected, smirking.

Dad rolled his eyes. "It's not terrible, it's classic. Anyway, they had a phone-in competition, and guess what?"

"You won?" I asked, my tone just the right mix of sarcasm and curiosity.

"Tyler, be nice to your father," Mom scolded gently, though she was smiling.

"Yes, I won, Tyler," Dad said, emphasising my name as if it would prove a point.

"What did you win, honey? A radio or something?"

"Oh, it's a lot better than that. I won a holiday."

Mom stopped mid-stir. That got everyone's attention.

"Seriously? You won a holiday?" Mom asked, disbelief giving way to curiosity.

"Seriously," he replied, grinning.

"Where to?"

"We're going to Sweden!"

"Sweden? Where's that?" Jen asked, her eyes lighting up.

"It's in Northern Europe, sweetie."

"Isn't that, like, cold and stuff?" I added quickly, trying to mask my growing intrigue.

"Yes, it's cold, and there will be lots of snow."

"SNOW!" Jen exclaimed, practically bouncing with excitement.

Having lived in Southernmost Texas our whole lives, neither of us had ever seen proper snow in real life.

"Can we build a snowman?" Jen pleaded.

"Of course, we can build a snowman."

"Yes!!" Jen cheered, pumping her arms into the air.

Dad turned to me. "Well, how about it, Ty? You wanna go to Sweden?"

I tried to play it cool, but inside, I felt a little flicker of excitement. Snow and Sweden were intriguing, sure, but what really caught me off guard was the idea of breaking free from my usual routine. Lately, life had started to feel a bit... predictable. Same people, same places, same everything.

"Yeah, I guess I could go," I replied with a shrug, though I couldn't hide my faint smile.

We all sat down for dinner, the excitement palpable as Dad explained more about the holiday. We'd be staying at a lodge by a lake, in a place he struggled to pronounce. The idea of a cozy lodge surrounded by snow sounded awesome, even if I tried to act nonchalant.

As the conversation buzzed around me, I found myself wondering what this trip could bring. Snow was great and all, but I couldn't shake the hope that maybe this was my chance to break out of the monotony of my life, maybe even find something new, something unexpected.

We spent the next few days preparing for the trip. Mom made sure we had all the winter gear we'd need, and Dad couldn't stop talking about the different activities we'd do. Jen and I tried to keep up with our usual routines, though the anticipation of snow and a new country was a constant distraction.

Chapter 2

The big day finally arrived. We loaded our bags into the car and headed to the airport. Jen's excitement was contagious, and despite my attempts to stay cool, I couldn't help but feel a rush of anticipation myself. The airport was bustling with people, the steady hum of announcements echoing through the terminals. The sight of all the planes ready to take off only added to the thrill of our impending vacation.

Jen was practically bouncing as we boarded the plane, her enthusiasm impossible to ignore. I settled into my seat, pretending to be unimpressed, but secretly, I was just as excited. The flight was long, and I passed the time flipping through movies and letting my mind wander. What would Sweden be like? Snowy, of course, but beyond that, I had no idea.

When we finally landed, as soon as the plane hatch opened, any tiredness we felt evaporated in an instant. A blast of freezing cold air hit us, and Jen squealed with delight.

Herded through the airport with the other passengers, we collected our cases and made our way through arrivals. Standing in the crowd was a man holding a sign with Dad's name on it. They exchanged a few words before the man led us outside to a large 4x4.

The drive to the lodge felt like stepping into a postcard. Snow-covered landscapes stretched out in every direction, glittering under the pale blue-grey sky. Jen's face stayed glued to the window, her breath fogging up the glass as she whispered, "It's like a fairy tale."

Even I had to admit it was stunning. The silence of the snowy world outside seemed to wrap around the car, soothing and surreal.

When we arrived at the lodge, it was everything Dad had described and more. Nestled among tall pine trees, the cozy wooden cabin overlooked a frozen lake.

My breath hung in the air as we rushed inside, eager to escape the biting cold.

Inside, the lodge was inviting, with rustic wood paneling and a large fireplace dominating the main room. I tried to act nonchalant, but deep down, I loved it. Jen ran from room to room, squealing with excitement over every little detail.

Dad, however, frowned by the fireplace.

"What's wrong, hun?" Mom asked as she unpacked a bag.

"Hmm, unless I'm missing something, I don't think we've got anything to light a fire with. I'm not seeing any logs."

"Oh, here, try this," Mom said, handing him a small card with a phone number on it, that she had found next to the phone.

"Well, I don't think we'll get much of a fire burning with this, but I'll give it a go," Dad joked, earning a playful eye-roll from Mom.

Dad rang the number on the lodge's landline, pacing the room as the coiled cord stretched to its limit.

"Hi, this is Dan Phillips, the competition winner. We've just arrived, and the lodge doesn't seem to have any wood for the fire."

After a brief exchange, Dad hung up. "He's sending someone over now to help us out."

While we waited, we explored the lodge and unpacked our things. I claimed the room closest to the main living area, figuring it would stay the warmest once the fire was going.

A knock at the door interrupted our unpacking.

"I'll get it!" I called out, hurrying to open it.

Standing there was a boy about my age, bundled up against the cold. For a moment, I just stared, caught completely off guard. He was striking, tall and athletic-looking, with intense blue eyes. His platinum-blonde hair peeked out from beneath a red woollen hat, and when he smiled, it was brief but warm.

"Hello, my name is Erik. I've got your wood."

His English was perfect, though his accent gave his words a musical quality. For a second, I froze, my throat dry and my thoughts jumbled. Something about him was disarming, new, unfamiliar, and undeniably intriguing.

"Oh, uh... right. Thanks. Please, come in," I managed to say, stepping aside.

He nodded politely, brushing past me as I caught the faint scent of pine clinging to his coat. He moved with an ease I envied, carrying the wood inside as though it weighed nothing.

"Dad, the wood's here!" I called out, my voice carrying through the lodge.

Outside, Erik had a snowmobile with a small trailer loaded with logs. I offered to help him unload, mostly to keep myself busy and distract from the strange tension buzzing in the air. Our boots crunched on the snow as we carried the last of the wood inside.

"So, what is there to do around here?" I asked, glancing at him. I wasn't sure why, but I wanted to keep him talking.

"There's a band playing in the village tomorrow night," he replied. "My friends and I are going, if you'd like to join us."

"Yeah," I said casually, though my pulse quickened. "Sounds good."

"Great. I'll pick you up around eight, then?"

I nodded. "Yeah, that works. Oh, I'm Tyler, by the way."

"It's nice to meet you, Tyler," he said with another polite nod and a flicker of a smile. Then, stepping back out, he started his snowmobile and gave a small wave before disappearing down the snowy trail.

I stood in the doorway, watching him go, feeling strangely off-kilter. He was just a regular guy, right? Yet something about him had stirred something in me, something I didn't quite understand.

As I closed the door and went back inside, I couldn't shake the thought of him. Erik. His name lingered in my mind, along with the flicker of curiosity that refused to fade.

Chapter 3

The following day, I woke up quietly excited for the evening. I tried not to think about Erik too much, but his smile kept sneaking into my thoughts.

Over breakfast, I told my parents about the plans, and they were cool with it. "Be safe and have fun," Mom said, while Dad slid a few Swedish krona notes into my hand.

The day passed in a blur of family activities, snowball fights with Jen, a stroll by the frozen lake, but my mind was elsewhere. As eight o'clock approached, I rushed to get ready. After a quick shower, I styled my hair and dabbed on some cologne, just enough to notice without overdoing it. I picked a pair of jeans and my smartest t-shirt, layering a thick jacket over it for warmth.

When I stepped outside to wait, my breath hung in the icy air. The low rumble of the snowmobile's engine reached me first, followed by Erik pulling up and flipping his visor open. His grin was contagious.

"Hey, Tyler. Ready to go?"

I nodded, grabbing the spare helmet from the box at the back. As I climbed on behind him, I hesitated.

"You might want to grab on," Erik said, smirking.

Awkwardly, I wrapped my arms around him. He reached back, adjusting my hands lower until they rested securely against his waist. The closeness was unnerving, and when the engine roared to life, the vibrations sent a jolt through my body.

My thighs pressed tightly against his, and with every bump in the trail, I felt excitement building in places I desperately wished it wouldn't. I prayed he couldn't feel my growing problem.

The cold night air whipped past us, but the thrill of the ride., and the embarrassing tension in my jeans, kept me warm. When the lights of the bar finally came into view, relief washed over me.

We parked alongside a row of other snowmobiles, and I adjusted my jacket quickly as I climbed off, hoping Erik hadn't noticed anything unusual.

Inside, the bar was lively, filled with laughter and the low hum of music. Erik led me to a table where a group of his friends was waiting.

"Tyler, this is Lars, Anders, and Karl," Erik introduced after a brief exchange in Swedish.

"Hey, guys," I said.

"American!" Lars exclaimed with exaggerated enthusiasm, declaring his love for my country.

We fell into an easy rhythm of conversation. Their English was excellent, though they occasionally slipped into Swedish. Erik translated when necessary, his wit and charm keeping me laughing more than I had in ages.

Every so often, I caught myself staring at him. His cable-knit sweater hugged his torso perfectly, highlighting the subtle contours of his muscles. When he lifted his drink, the stretch of fabric showcased his strength. My heart raced, my thoughts wandering to places I didn't fully understand yet.

Later, as we moved between bars, Lars and Karl picked up a pack of beer from an off-licence. Though I didn't drink much, due to the laws in the U.S and not being 21, I accepted a bottle, not wanting to seem out of place.

"Cowboy," they started calling me, a nod to my Southern accent. I didn't mind, it was funny, and I liked how Erik's lips curled around the word.

Noticing me shivering, Erik suddenly announced, "Bastu!"

The others cheered, their excitement infectious.

"What's bastu?" I asked.

"You'll see," Erik said, his grin mischievous.

We trekked into the forest, the crunch of snow beneath our boots the only sound. Soon, we reached a wooden shack with a small sign reading Bastu. Realisation hit me, it was a sauna.

In the changing room, the guys began stripping down without hesitation. I froze, unsure what to do.

"I don't have, you know... trunks," I muttered to Erik.

He laughed, relaying my concern to the others. Their laughter echoed before Erik turned back to me.

"In Sweden, we don't usually wear anything."

"Naked?" I squeaked.

"Ja."

I hesitated, but when Erik pulled off his sweater, revealing a sculpted chest, my resolve crumbled. He was flawless, his broad shoulders tapering into a narrow waist. My breath hitched as he slid his briefs down, his cock thick and heavy, unaffected by the cold.

With trembling hands, I began undressing, feeling more exposed than ever. When I finally stepped out of my underwear, Erik gave me a quick once-over, his expression unreadable.

Inside the sauna, the heat hit like a wall. We sat opposite each other, Erik leaning back with casual ease, his legs spread wide. I tried to keep my eyes on his face, but they betrayed me, drifting to the trail of sweat sliding down his chest and pooling at the base of his cock.

The others chatted about girls, laughing and joking crudely. Erik stayed mostly quiet, his head tilted back, eyes closed, a small smile playing on his lips.

At one point, Lars said something to Karl in Swedish, prompting Karl to glance at me and nod.

"They're talking about your chest hair," Erik translated, his voice low and relaxed.

I glanced down. It was true, I was the only one with a hairy chest.

"Why don't you shave it?" Karl asked. "It looks better."

I shrugged, unsure how to respond.

Karl's gaze shifted lower, and I realised with horror that he was staring at my crotch.

"You should shave that too," he said bluntly. "It'll make you look bigger."

The others laughed, though I flushed crimson, feeling embarrassed. Karl held his hands apart in an exaggerated gesture, earning more laughter. Thankfully, they soon turned their teasing on Anders, sparking a round of good-natured shoving and jokes.

I tried to relax, but my thoughts kept returning to Erik. The sight of his glistening, uncut cock resting against his thigh consumed my mind. I tried desperately to think of unsexy things, not to invoke a reaction from the beast between my legs

Eventually, Erik sat up, breaking my trance. "We should probably get you home," he said, his voice soft.

We dressed in the changing room, our gazes lingering on each other for a second too long.

Back on the snowmobile, Erik surprised me by turning to me with a grin. "Your turn to drive," he said, handing me the helmet.

"Wait, what?" I stammered. "I've never driven one of these before."

"I'll guide you," he assured me, swinging his leg over to sit behind me. "It's easy, cowboy. Just throttle, brake, and follow the trail."

I hesitated, my heart pounding, not just from the idea of controlling the powerful machine, but from the thought of Erik sitting close behind me. "Are you sure? I don't want to, like... crash us."

"You won't," he said, his confidence in me unwavering.

Swallowing my nerves, I climbed on and gripped the handlebars. Erik slid behind me, his hands briefly covering mine as he adjusted my grip and showed me the throttle. The heat of his touch sent a shiver through me, almost making me forget my anxiety.

"Relax," he said, his voice close to my ear. "I've got you."

I took a deep breath, eased into the throttle, and the snowmobile jerked forward. Erik chuckled, steadying me with a hand on my shoulder. "Slowly at first. There you go."

With him guiding me, I gained confidence, though the vibrations of the engine and the weight of his body pressed against mine made it hard to focus. Every bump in the trail felt magnified with him so close, his hands occasionally brushing mine as he corrected my movements.

By the time we reached the lodge, my nerves had settled, replaced by exhilaration. I pulled to a stop, grinning despite myself.

"Not bad for your first time," Erik said, hopping off. He took my helmet from me with a wink and stored it in the box.

We swapped places and he sat at the controls.

"Well, see you around, cowboy."

Before I could reply, he revved the engine and sped off into the night, leaving me standing there, heart pounding for entirely different reasons.

As I returned to my room, I couldn't get him out of my mind. Stripping down to my underwear, I stared at myself in the mirror. My cock strained against the fabric, and for the first time, I allowed myself the relief I'd been craving.

Touching myself, I let my imagination run wild, replaying every moment in the sauna. My orgasm came fast and hard, leaving me breathless and trembling.

As I stared at my flushed reflection, streaks of cum still on the mirror, I felt something new, alive, euphoric, and unashamed. Maybe this was what a crush felt like, and maybe it didn't matter that it was for a boy.

Chapter 4

When I woke the next day, I decided to start fresh. The first step? A shower.

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I took a moment to inspect myself. My body hair had always been a source of self-consciousness, and after the guys' teasing in the sauna, I couldn't stop thinking about it. After a moment's hesitation, I grabbed my razor.

Carefully, I shaved my chest, leaving it as smooth as I'd seen Erik's. Next, I tackled the thick bush of my pubic hair. Without an electric trimmer, I couldn't get it perfect, but trimming it back made a noticeable difference. They were right, my dick did look bigger without all the fluff.

Feeling pleased with the results, I dressed and joined my family in the kitchen. Over breakfast, they asked me about my night, curious about how I'd spent it. I glossed over the details, leaving out the drinking, the naked sauna, and the fact that Erik had let me drive the snowmobile home. If they knew, they'd never let me out again.

After breakfast, I felt restless. My thoughts were a jumble, and I needed space to untangle them. "I'm going for a walk," I announced.

"Be careful, and be back by lunchtime," my mom said.

Grabbing my coat, hat, and gloves, I ventured outside, part of me secretly hoping to run into Erik. Who was I kidding? All of me was hoping to run into him.

I found a dirt trail alongside the snowmobile track and followed it around the frozen lake. The lodges scattered along the shoreline were a mix of occupied and deserted.

I thought about last night, the way he'd looked at me in the sauna, the casual touches, the way my pulse quickened every time I thought of him, it was like he'd unlocked something inside me that I hadn't even known was there.

As I reached the far edge of the lake, the rhythmic sound of wood being chopped caught my attention. Curious, I followed the noise into a clearing and saw a familiar snowmobile parked nearby. It was Erik's.

There he was, splitting logs like some kind of Norse god. Each swing of the axe revealed the power in his arms as he drove it down with precision, splitting the wood cleanly. His rosy cheeks and the red tip of his nose only added to his rugged charm. My heart fluttered at the sight of him.

"Erik!" I called out, breaking the moment.

He turned toward me, his expression lighting up with a smile that could melt glaciers. "Oh, Cowboy, hey."