PRETTY PANTIES
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
Carl stamped the snow from his feet on the porch. God damn it, it was cold! How the hell did he and Jake get talked into staying the winter at this fucking logging camp, anyway? He held the load of firewood precariously in one arm while he got the door open with the other, and inside. Only good thing about this day was that Jake had made a trip into town. Not only fresh provisions (read that "beer!"), but he would also bring in such mail as they had received. A whole month's worth of mail accumulated down there. He decided that this time, he wouldn't devour it in a hurry, he'd make the mail last him, open it a little at a time, one by one. Even the junk mail, read every word, savor the experience of something new. And newspapers, God yes, he'd save those and read only one newspaper a day, a month late, but every word, make them last!
Inside was as cold as outside and he fretted as he loaded their little Franklin stove with paper and kindling and then piled the firewood on top of it. It took a bit of experience to build a good fire, the paper had to burn hot enough and long enough to light the kindling, dry pine wood cut into small sticks, and those would last long enough to catch the firewood, which would last you, though you had to be sure to kick up the fire sometimes, add more wood to it every so often. They took turns getting up in the middle of the night to restoke the fire, letting it go out was dangerous in these woods, when a snowstorm could blow up damn near overnight. Fucking weather reports usually only helped after the fact, you could look at the snow and find out how it had gotten there on you.
He spent the time the fire took to grow and warm the room in going out and getting more firewood, piling it by the stove, he and Jake would want to relax over their mail tonight. He got plenty warm that way and when he was done, he could go inside and ahhh! Time to take off the heavy coat, the heavy gloves, the fur-lined boots, the extra pairs of pants and shirts. Finally, he was down to only one shirt and one pair of pants on his body, sitting in his chair and wriggling his sock-covered feet at the fire. Toes always took the longest to get warm, it felt like, but sticking them less than two inches from the sides of the stove would do it for him.
A bang on the door and it opened, and Jake came in, wielding a large box. "Mail call!" he called out as he always did. Hell, last month when it was Carl's turn to visit the "fleshpots" (if you could call a general store/post office and three houses, none with any pretty girls in them, by such a lofty name), he'd done the same thing. Mail was brought in first.
But that box. "Who's the big one from?" He asked as Jake set the box down, a pile of newspapers (his, all his!) and a fair-sized bundle of letters streaming down.
"Don't ask me." Jake said with a strong tone of envy. "It's made out to you."
"Yeah?"
"Merry Christmas." Jake said with a grin.
"Hey, hey!" Carl said as the idea sank in. Any mail not brought in on December 31st would have had to wait until now, a Christmas present this late wasn't that impossible. Then he frowned. "But I wasn't missing any." His parents, his older brother, his grandmother, nobody else out there to send him anything.
But he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth!
"Come on, open it." Jake said, practically tramping the ground with eagerness like a bull in rut.
Patience, Carl told himself. Make it last. "Uh, let's get the groceries in and have supper first. Then I'll open the box."
"Bastard." Jake said without much heat to the curse. "I been looking at that box all the way back here."
Carl got a homesick feeling in his stomach as he remembered. "My family would always open a present on Christmas Eve night, after supper." he mused. The memory hurt more than he thought it would. "I'd sit and look at those presents, picking out which one I wanted to open, that made the food taste even better."
Jake grinned. A big, burly bear of a man, with thick black hair all over, arms, chest, legs, hands and feet, he understood Carl better than anyone since his mother. "Want to make this a second Christmas, then?"
"Why not?"
"I got some ham steaks we can fry up." Jake licked his lips. The best food always disappeared the first week or ten days of the month. "And some biscuit mix to go with them."
"Any yams?" Carl asked.
"One can of them." Jake nodded.
"I'll fix us a pie if you'll mix the biscuits." Carl offered.
The celebration mimicked the one they'd had on New Year's Eve and New Year's Day, their belated Christmas. Since their boss only mailed their paychecks on the last day of the month and it was an all-day trip to get up and down that mountain, they'd had to wait for Christmas. No electricity, no gas, no television, no telephone. Only a radio blaring out music to keep them company. Carl swore he'd be better prepared for this next year...only it was funny how quick the money would go every time and he'd be broke when it was time to come up here and babysit the logging camp through another season. Most loggers spent the winter living off their summer's earnings, and it could get pretty pitiful. He was lucky the boss would keep the two of them up here every winter, make sure that people didn't carry off the logging equipment. Just the smoke from their cabin and its isolation were enough to take care of that. Though what he and Jake would do if a group descended on them wasn't something he liked to think about. Take off running, most likely.
After the meal, and a couple of cold beers each warming them in another way when duly imbibed, they cleared the table and set Carl's big box on the table and took his first good look at it.
"Ah, shit!" He said. "It was supposed to go to my little sister." His family's fault, they had named his younger sister Carla, for God knows what reason. Some ardent Romeo had sent her (an admittedly pretty girl in her late teens) this box and his Mother had kindly re-addressed and mailed it on to him, not noticing the squiggle after the "L" in "Carl" which was a badly formed "A" missing some ink on the top half of it so it looked more like a curlicue of sorts.
"Who's Jordan Finch?" Jake asked.
"Damned if I know." Carl said. "My sister dates a hell of a lot of men. Some of them have more money than they know what to do with."
"So what do we do?" Jake was looking as disappointed as Carl felt. It had been something to two lonely men in a lonely cabin on a lonely mountain, this box.
"Hell, let's open it." Carl said in sudden determination. "If he had to mail it to her, he can't be that much of a beau, can he? We can always take it to Carla come springtime."
Jake looked relieved. "Wonder what a rich man gives a girl he's sweet on?" He asked.
They opened the box and looked in.
"Does that answer your question?" Carl asked.
The box was brimful of every kind of sexy lingerie, garter, hose, bra and girdle you could imagine. There were even some high-heel shoes in the bottom, about six pairs of them!
Jake reached in and pulled out an item at random, held it out gingerly between the beefy fingers of his hairy hands. Red crotchless panties with black lace trim.
Jake regarded the dainty thing and then Carl heard a low groan bubble out of the big man. "Aww, shit!" he said. "Can you imagine some hot chick wearing nothing but this?"
Carl wished he hadn't said that. The sudden image sprang into his mind, a buxom woman standing there, her hips between Jake's arms, and she was so real and so firm and so round and so soft and he could almost touch her, all of sex in her body....
And the image was gone, leaving only the pounding erection in his pants. "Awww, shit!" he echoed Jake. "Shit, yeah!"
He reached out to touch the panties and Jake pulled them back. "Get your own." He said. "These are mine!" And he pulled the sheer fabric to his face and rubbed it against his cheek, gently, lovingly, as if touching it, he could touch the woman it was supposed to adorn.
Carl thought about the touch of lingerie, the way it was so sleek, so soft, so warm on the body of a woman, and he reached, dove for the box and brought out a pink teddy, light and filmy and rubbed it on his own cheek. God, it even smelled like a woman!
He wanted to rub it over his entire body! Goddamn it, touch it if not touch a woman!
Alone! He needed to be alone! He looked around, but privacy was the one thing this cabin did not afford. If one of them were to sleep in the pickup truck, maybe the other could indulge this fantasy.
He looked over at Jake, who now had a bustier in his grip and was fondling the wire-supported breasts it had, the material giving way (only the outline of the breast was so supported by wires) and Jake looked at him, and in the long acquaintanceship they had shared, these many days and nights in this cabin, they understood.
Carl started to say "I won't look if you won't" or something similar, but words weren't needed. He only nodded to Jake, who nodded back. "Okay by me if it's okay by you" couldn't have been spoken better by words.
Get it up against his skin! That's what he had to do! Get that sheer, filmy fabric to touch his body, touch it all, not just his fingers, that would work, drape himself in the largesse of woman's undergarments and masturbate in the midst of it, hell, yeah!
He fought the clothes from his body, seeing only peripherally that Jake was doing the same, too caught up in his need, in his raw raging fantasy, to watch his roommate disrobe. Hell, he'd seen Jake naked any number of times, the only way to take a bath was to pull that oval bathing tub into the middle of the room while you heated water over the stove to pour into it. Summer was bathing in the nearby stream, but that water was close to freezing or actually frozen over this time of year. Ice too thin to walk on over water far too cold to think about washing in.
But it was warm in the cabin, the way men surrounded by cold make their place hotter to compensate, heat up the room and it'll last longer if the fire goes out. Carl was on the verge of sweating as it was in his clothes and long johns.
But those were impediments now, he stripped them from his body and naked now, finally naked, went to his mattress lying on the floor, planning to roll about in them. Feel them on his body, yeah, yeah!
But the fantasy didn't quite translate as he had hoped. The garments were as sheer and filmy and flimsy and soft and sleek as he'd expected, but they were cold. Nothing inside them. It took warmth to make a bra a desirable thing, the aroma of human flesh adhering to it, and these were clothing never worn by any actual woman. Somehow, his body felt that in the material he lolled about over and though he draped it on his body and drew the filmy pantyhose across his abdomen and made the toe of it into a sort of sock-puppet to play with his dong, it just didn't work.
He looked over at Jake, his hard-on still pounding but utterly frustrated. Jake was there, a big, hairy bear, drawing the fabric over himself...and obviously having as little luck. Jake picked up that white bustier again, which would cover a woman from her breasts to just below her waist.
Watched as Jake, lost in his need, tugged it on over his body. The elastic sides were strained to fit his brawny form, and he struggled with it, the way Carl's last girlfriend had when she would put on such a garment, and the similarity of the movements sent a surge through Carl's cock and he moaned with the utter deprived need of it.
Jake looked over, the bustier ill-fitting and their eyes matched again. Only this time, Jake spoke. "What are you looking at?"
"Nothing." Carl lied. Then, his lips and throat formed the words without his knowing it, he heard them as a stranger from his own mouth, "Can I touch it?"
"Huh?"
Carl was lost in his need, depraved in his desire, he babbled out, "You know they don't feel right unless someone's wearing them!" He snatched up a piece at random, red bra and said, "See, you put them on and I put them on and we can touch them and they'll feel right, I'll bet."
Jake watched as Carl struggled with the bra. How the hell did women reach back and fasten those things on themselves? He turned, concentrating on his struggle and when he was about to give up, pick another garment, he felt Jake's hands take the ends from him and hook them in.
Carl turned around and Jake was there, right there. "Put on the pantyhose." He said. "I love to rub my hands over a woman's pantyhose. Better'n skin in some ways."
"You, too." Carl panted.
"And you need these." Jake held out a pair of red panties, like the crotchless kind, but these were true panties, heavily laced. "Got to have the panties on. Pretty panties. Pretty, pretty panties."
"None on you." Carl dealt back at him. "Just those straps that hook the panties to the bottom of your bustier." He gasped. I like to run my hands over the top of them and onto the skin of the thigh."
They sat on Carl's bed, the two strapping men, and put on women's hose. Carl felt how the tight, sleek thin material clung to him like a second skin, it was necessary to pull it very carefully, just right, or it wouldn't go all the way up. The material was incredibly elastic, but it had to be laid down right on target or it wouldn't go. Not like a man's sock at all, once it was put on, it stayed where it was.
He had to do it like a woman, roll the stocking down to the very toes in his hands, and then tuck his own toes in and then pull them up, letting the fabric go so slowly, pulling it up his body, up and up. Finally, on the third try, he got them up to his thighs and let them do, the elastic tops at least like men's socks, they clapped into place and he felt triumphant. Now the panties, and he got up to step into them.
Jake, already done, watched him slide them up his body. He was surprised to find that they fit him pretty darned well! Of course, a real woman would have some hips to her, so she'd need the room. Only place they didn't fit were around his cock, which was still standing erect.
He looked at Jake, panting. "Now what?"
"Shoes." Jake said. "Red shoes. Got to keep your shoes on."
Carl reached into the box, brought out a pair of red high-heeled shoes, and a pair of black ones. "I like them black." he said as he tossed the flimsy things to Jake.
No way would his feet go into those things. He got his left foot in, but it was a good bit smaller (two full sizes) than his right foot, he had to just stand on the toe and strap the top over the roof of his foot and let it be like that. He couldn't have walked for Adam, but hell, walking wasn't the point here.
"Now what?" he asked Jake.
Jake lay down. "Come here baby, and make Pappa happy." he said as he put his arms out.
His stomach fluttering, he lay down on the bed next to Jake. This was getting pretty damned close to sex with another man!
Jake's hand went over and onto his outer thigh and stroked along it, a long, languid motion. The thought of that strong hand, that powerful arm, making such a tender gesture was just incredible! To be touched in gentleness by strength. He reached down as Jake's hand finished the caress and did his own, his hand running along the back of Jake's stocking-clad leg. As he'd said, Carl stroked up, feeling the hose, the sunken ring where the elastic top was, and then he was touching Jake's bare flesh and that part of Jake's body, though hairy, was tender as a woman's. He kept up and cupped Jake's buttock in his hand and palped it, a hard squeeze!
Jake gasped and his hand came up and gripped Carl's breast through the bra. Carl had just enough pec muscle there to help fill out the bra a little, and Jake grabbed that, squeezed hard as hell.
Carl groaned as the strength showed itself, and his cock slammed up to full erection again. He stroked Jake's midriff, covered by the bustier, and felt the warmth underneath. Damn, now it felt right, just right!
His other hand went down and grabbed hold of his cock and he stroked Jake's body with one hand while he pumped his prod with the other! "Ah, shit, yeah!" he moaned. "Yeah!"
Jake rolled on top of him, Carl found his legs lifted up into the air, and both of Jake's massive hands were running up and down his legs. The feel of those warm hands through the hosiery was something indefinably sweet, it was the best of touching a woman and being touched by a man, when you shake a man's hand and he's a strong man, you love the feel of it, the power that is joining with you there, and that was this feeling, only more so, the hand was stroking up and down his legs, fondling his skin, feeling his body!
"Oh, G-o-o-o-o-d!" Carl groaned. "Oh, God, oh, God!" And his hands moved of themselves again, and they pulled Jake's body down to his and his legs went up and around Jake and he felt his skin, his hose-covered skin, touching that strong body and his hands, they felt that bustier, all slinky and exotic, but underneath it was all man, all man!
When Jake's lips met his and kissed him, Carl didn't think anything strange about it, he took that kiss and he kissed back with equal fervor, craving and pressing those warm, warm lips, against his own. When Jake's tongue slid into his mouth, he sucked on it, sucked on that fat tongue, tasting of beer, tasting of ham, tasting of lumberjack, tasting of man! God, it was all good!
Jake broke it off and lay in Carl's arms, panting heavily. "Shit, man, are we doing this? Are we really doing this?"
Carl saw Jake through the sheen of raw lust and growled, "Damn straight we are!" and this time he kissed Jake and his tongue was crammed into that bulky man's mouth and danced upon his teeth. Carl felt the rasp of five o'clock shadow on Jake's cheeks, there was the flavor of raw alcohol stronger than ever, and yet his hands touched the silken sheen of lingerie, felt the satiny smoothness of nylon hose, looked upon a white bustier covering a hairy torso, poorly, inadequately, and that was somehow just right, too. The very best of man and woman were all wrapped up together and he had it in his arms.
He felt Jake's cock prodding at his ass and he gasped, his eyes wide, looked up into Jake's eyes...and surrendered. Hell, if he had to get fucked, who better than Jake to do it for him? He knew Jake, he trusted Jake more than he had ever trusted anyone before, his body screamed out, yeah, come on, Jake, fuck me!
All he did was pull the panties he was wearing to the side, and Jake's fat dick slid into the gap created, raw, dry, unlubricated dong was knocking at his back door and that was just right, too!
"Yeah, come on, cram it in me, fucker!" He growled. "Bust my fucking cherry ass wide open!"
Jake's cockhead found his sphincter and pushed and the pressure was enormous, it was like Jake was about to split him in two! And the part of his body in raw rut shouted yeah, come on, do it, man, do it!
He clutched Jake's back and gasped as Jake stuffed the thick dong into his body, only eager grunts escaped his lips as his ass was ravaged, scraped raw, he felt the hot rush of blood as he was ripped, but he didn't fucking care! He was getting fucked by Jake and that was all he'd ever wanted, ever!
When Jake sunk into the very base, Carl's body was bright in agony and all he could say was, "Yeah, come on, fuck me, you big, furry bastard. Fuck me while I play with your bustier, you goddamned big-cocked slut!"
"Fucking pussy." Jake moaned as he began to pull out, and Carl's body yelped anew at this raw violation. "Goddamned man-pussy, that's what you got, and I'm going to fuck you, turn you inside out!"
"Yeah, come on, do it!" Carl snarled. "Give it to me hard, you shit-head!"
And Jake did hump him hard, Carl's ass only stopped hurting when every last bit of his tissue had been scraped and lubricated with his own ass's blood, he was being taken in a very total sense, blood like that of a virgin was pouring onto his bed, Jake was taking his cherry, the first time was supposed to hurt, damn it, so go on and hurt!
"Hah, hah, hah, hah, hah!" Jake was grunting with each slam into Carl's body, the big man was already close to creaming. Hell, that didn't sound so bad to him, either! He pumped his dick and it hummed right off and his gasps chimed in with Jake's in a contrapunctual fashion, hah-ah, hah-ah, hah-ah!
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Jake groaned as he rammed even harder at Carl's butt. "Going to fucking cream all inside you!"
"Yeah, come on, man, come on, do it, do it!" Carl moaned.
And Jake gave a slow moaning growl, his face slowly morphing from the placid neutrality of sexual feeling into the near-painful ecstasy of building climax, a grimace contorting his face little by little until he was like a grinning gargoyle, and that gargoyle's lips parted and sounded out, "UHHH-MMMMGGGGHHHH-HAH!" And Jake's come blasted into Carl's ravaged ass, searing his violated bowels, salty streams of painful delight, oh, yeah, he was Jake's bitch now, he was Jake's whore, a fucked slut, that was him!
And Jake panted, fell down onto him, crushing his hand against his hotly pulsating cock. Shit, he was so close to coming and hadn't made it!
But that satiny smooth bustier was rubbing against his cock, and the warm body of Jake was underneath that, pushing down on him, Carl moaned, pulled his hand out and began to hunch up against Jake's bustier, rubbing Jakes's stomach with his steel-hard tool and he was close, so close and that smooth satin garment did the rest, he was going to come all over a woman's bustier, shit, yeah!
Jake started to get up and Carl's legs locked him in place while Carl groaned "EEEEE-YAHHHHH!" and shot his load right onto Jake's body, Jake's smooth, silken-covered body, so warm, so full, so HIS!
"God, you're making a mess out of me!" Jake griped as Carl thrashed beneath him. "Little whore, you creamed on my bustier!"
Carl, barely finished with his ejaculation, could only pant out a chuckle in answer.
"You think that's funny, bitch?" Jake said and his hand came down and clutched Carl's hair, a big handful. "You want to get into a hissy-fight with me, pussy!"
"Uh, uh, yeah, yeah!" Carl moaned.
"I'll claw your eyes out, bitch!"
Jake did no such thing, it was more of a slapping contest as Carl fended him off without much effort, a good thing for he was wrung totally dry. Just two good friends horsing around.
Done with that, Jake rolled off and lay beside him, looked at the stained bustier.
"I wonder how we're supposed to clean this way the hell up here?" he said.
"Beats me." Carl said. "I'll call my mother when I go down for supplies the end of next month and ask her."
Jake looked at him and realized he was joking. "Seriously, I hate to ruin these things right off." he said. "They got to last us the rest of the cold season, all the way up until April."
"We got enough to last us a while." Carl said. "And besides, when I can get it up again and get to stuff my cock in your butt, I want to put that black lace thing I saw in the box on you, along with those fish-net stockings. You'll look nice and hot in that, what with your black hair."
Jake looked at him. "When you going to be ready to go again?" was his only response to the prospect of being fucked.
"About time I finish reading my mail. All my mail."
"All of it? At once?" Jake said. "Aren't you worried about getting bored?"
"Nope." What with that box of goodies they now had, Carl sure wasn't worried about being bored for a while!
THE END
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E-mail me at Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM