The Logger
The east wind of the late summer had picked up, blowing strong in the needles of the branches we were limbing off of the trees the full crew had fallen yesterday. The sweat thickened under my hickory shirt, even though the wind was hitting my bare shoulders and my furry armpits next to the frayed cloth of the hacked off sleeves.
Bill and I had come up here just after dawn, to get the logs ready for the stacking and hauling on Monday. It had been a long, hot week, and the rest of the crew had started the weekend early.
The hot weather had dried out the forest quite a bit, and the State Forester had cut back our logging time to hoot owl hours. We had to shut the chain saws down by 11, and couldn't even run any chokers after then. Friction from cables across fallen logs had set off too many big forest fires on hot days, and we didn't want to be the cause of another inferno that would set the woods on fire.
I'd been choker setting for my uncle's gypo logging outfit for over a year now, and my boss wanted me to get a taste of the chain saw. He thought I'd be a good faller some day, and wanted to show me how it was done. Bill was about the best faller in the woods.
He was about the biggest guy around, too. Big, meaty arms and shoulders, stretching the seams of his hacked off hickory shirt. A thick carpet of fur poked out of the unzipped front of his sweat soaked shirt, with a good dusting of saw dust from our morning's work stuck to his fur, his shirt, and his pegged off tin pants. A good run of sweat ran down his face, into his beard, catching more sawdust. His caulk boots were covered with dirt, the sharp teeth of the caulks digging into the logs as he stood on them, slicing off the limbs with a practiced dance of his big chainsaw.
I didn't look any neater, and I'd added a bit of dirt and moss and a few vine maple leaves as I'd scampered across and under the logs, cutting off the limbs and working my way to the butt of the big trees, next to the fresh stumps the crew had made during the week.
I tried to swipe away the sweat and sawdust from my face, not quite getting off the flecks of sawdust that clung to the stubble of my four day old beard. I still hadn't grown a full beard, like all of the other guys on the crew, and always shaved off my stubble before heading into town for a few brews on Saturday night.
Some of the guys teased me about my always showing up Monday morning all spiffed up and clean shaven.
"You'll get tired of scraping your face with a blade every day," they'd joke, calling me Bald Face.
In the last year, my whiskers had filled in a lot, and I had to admit I liked the look of myself in the mirror, with a thick beard stubble covering my chin and creeping up my cheeks and jaw. All my scrambling up and down the hills in the woods had filled out my chest and shoulders, and my legs were getting to be like the trees I was climbing over all day long. Maybe this was the weekend I wouldn't shave it off, and I'd show up to work Monday actually being a bearded logger.
This was about the last of the work for this job. Next week, after we got the logs loaded for the mill on Monday, we'd be moving a few miles over, on the other side of the ridge. And, the clearcut we'd made would be turning green in a few years. Ten years from now, new trees about fifteen feet high would be growing here, making a new forest, and, in about forty years, another stand of trees would be ready for the mill.
"We oughta call it a day," Bill said, wiping more sweat from his face. "It's almost hoot owl time, anyway. Quitting time during fire season. And, we've pretty much finished up our work."
"You did good today," he said. "You're showing some real promise on that chain saw. Next time there's a faller job open, I'm gonna ask the boss to put you in it."
I grinned, and sent a loud whoop of joy echoing over the log landing and the clear cut.
I'd been hoping this would work out, and I'd been wanting to move up in the company for a while. Besides, the pay was better and I wouldn't be scrambling up and down the hills all day long, hauling cables and setting chokers on the big trees the fallers had just taken down.
"How about we celebrate a bit, and cool off," Bill said. "There's a nice swimming hole off of the Elk Creek spur road. We've got the rest of the day off, and I could go for a little fun."
It didn't take us long to load up the chain saws and the rest of our gear, and jump in the big company pickup that Bill had driven up here, after picking me up at my house an hour before dawn.
"I brought a cooler of sandwiches and some goodies from the bakery," Bill said, as he started up the rig. "I think we worked up a pretty good appetite."
I nodded, thinking about my empty belly, and the sight of his thick chest, and the beefy muscles of his bare arms. The thought of Bill had been in my head a lot lately, especially at night when I was stroking my meat, thinking of what it would be like to have someone sharing my bed at night, keeping me company.
We were pretty ripe, after the long morning bucking up the fallen trees and cutting limbs in the early heat of an August heat wave. Bill raised a thick, furry arm to grab his sun glasses, and I caught a good look at the thick hair crowding his arm pit, glistening with sweat and the grime of a hard day's work. His spicy fresh stink filled my nose, making my cock twitch a bit at the thought of working him over with my fingers, rubbing my lips across his furry chest, chomping a bit on his nipples, and feeling his cock growing in my eager hand.
It was all just a fantasy, I knew. Bill was a bull of the woods, one of the toughest, and strongest loggers in the area. He was divorced, like a lot of the guys on the crew, and I just couldn't imagine him wanting to play around with a guy, let alone the new kid on the crew.
Still, that wasn't making my cock shrink any, even in the heat of the pickup cab, as we bounced along the rough rock of the spur road from the log landing. It was another two miles to the Elk Creek spur, and I'd have to wait a good while before the cool water of the creek could shrink me down a bit, and cool me off.
We drove a mile or so on the main line, and then took off on the Elk Creek spur. It was starting to grow over a bit, as the last logging up here was two years ago. If you wanted a place to yourself, this would be the road to the spot you wanted. What with fire season in full swing, the woods were closed to everyone, except the loggers.
Bill parked on an old log landing, about a hundred yards from the creek and the pool he had mentioned. The rest of the crew talked a lot about this place, as they had logged up here for a couple of years, and the pool had become the place to cool off after a hard day. Being the new kid, this was my first time here, so Bill led the way down the hill towards the creek. He'd grabbed the cooler and told me to grab a couple of towels he'd stashed behind the seats.
"There's a fifth of good whiskey there, too," he chuckled. "We might need that before long."
The sun beat down on us as we walked through the new trees growing in the old clear cut. After two years, they'd grown about three feet already, but didn't give us any shade on the old trail to the creek.
The clear cut ended about fifty feet before the creek, and I could hear the cool water gurgling over some rocks. A cool breeze off the creek hit us just before we got into the shade of the old growth surrounding the creek, cooling the thick sweat that had drenched my shirt.
The creek flowed through a grove of old growth timber, big columns of trees hundreds of years old. There was a bit of a clearing, under an old big leaf maple, allowing some sun to filter through to a large pool of water just downstream from a twenty foot waterfall. Several terraces of rock surrounded the pool, a perfect place for diving into the cool, inviting water, and then sitting there in the partial shade, hearing the waterfall cascade into the head of the pool.
Bill led us down an old fern-lined trail to the rock terrace, a couple of feet above the water, and began stripping off his shirt. His muscled chest and thick mat of chest and belly hair glistened in the sunlight. He pulled off his caulk boots and thick boot socks, and began opening his belt, sliding his pants down his butt and muscular legs.
He looked at me, and grinned.
"Time's awasting. Let's strip down and get wet," he laughed, his deep voice bouncing off of the rock walls above the pool.
"I can't wait to get out of these sweaty clothes and cool off."
My cock hadn't shrunk much since we'd gotten out of the pickup, my mind still thinking of what it would be like to take Bill's cock deep into my mouth, and rub my chin against his balls, my nose filled with his logger's sweat and the bits of sawdust from our morning on the mountain.
I blushed a bit, worried that Bill would see my half hard on, and what he'd think about me. It dawned on me that we'd be skinny dipping here, and he'd be seeing me with a hard on.
The logging crew would be about the last folks I'd think about coming out with, and I wasn't sure at all how Bill would take a member of his crew swimming bare assed next to him with a hard on.
Still, there was no way out of this, and I stripped out of my shirt and pants, and dropped my boots on the rock ledge. Bill had slipped off his boxers and dove into the pool, leaving me nervously slipping off my shorts and jumping into the water right behind him.
As he dove in, I got a good look at his cock flopping against his thigh, and his big balls, hanging loose, bouncing around, the sweaty sack and his crotch hair shining next to his hard muscled white butt in the high noon sunshine. My cock liked the view, hardening up even more as I tried to slide my shorts past my cock and dive into the creek.
The water felt cool and invigorating, after the morning of working up a sweat, working a chain saw in the hot wind of the summer's day. We splashed around and yelled our delight at being able to cool off and just play.
Soon, Bill was jumping after me, wrestling and splashing water and laughing. I splashed him back, joining in his game, and tried to push him away, as he dove and swam after me, trying to dunk my head under water and grab my ankles. Our laughter echoed off of the trees and the overhanging rock.
We found ourselves in the shallow part of the pool, and I felt cool sand under my feet, next to a ledge. Bill came up behind me, and grabbed me around the chest, splashing a few handfuls of water into my face.
His hand slipped a bit, down my chest, to my belly, and then against my cock. By this time, all the excitement of being with Bill, and seeing his bare chest, and his cock and balls dancing in the water had turned me on even more. His hand slid up tight against my hard cock.
Suddenly, the laughter stopped, and I felt my face and my chest flush red.
"My God, what will he think?" I thought.
"Well, you're bigger than I'd thought," Bill said. "And, you're pretty glad to see me."
I blushed even redder, not knowing what to say.
"I like a man who isn't afraid to show what he likes," Bill said, as his other arm reached around my chest, pulling me tighter against his furry chest and his strong legs. I felt his thick cock brush against my butt, his breath deep in my ears, as his grip tightened.
His fingers slipped around my cock, feeling around the foreskin, tight against my cock head, and then down the shaft, into the fur nestling above my balls. His fingers reached under my sack, cupping my balls, as one finger slid down to my hole, circling around it, and following the seam of skin back to underneath my balls.
It was my turn to gasp, enjoying his dance with my cock and balls, feeling the warmth of his hand, as he slowly began to slide his fist up and down my shaft, moving the foreskin over my knob.
I sighed, enjoying the touch, falling back against his chest and belly, my butt even closer against his cock. I felt it growing, too, slipping against the crack of my butt, feeling him grow bigger, and harder with every second.
Bill's bearded lips moved down across the nape of my neck, his moustache and beard tickling me, his tongue soon finding my ear lobe, his lips nipping me softly.
"I've wanted you for a long time," Bill whispered. "And, I'm glad to see you've been wanting me."
I sighed, and nodded, not finding words, letting go of the tension I'd had, my worry about what he'd think about me getting a hard on, about me coming on to him, wanting him. All that flowed out of me, like the water flowing past our legs, leaving us here together, alone, naked, and ready for each other.
Yes, I'd dreamed about this for a long time. And, today, I'm ready. Ready for Bill to take me. And, me to have him, at last.
My hand reached down, feeling his muscled thigh, feeling the warmth of this big bull of the woods, this big logger man. Feeling his cock hardening in the cleft of my butt, his wet, furry balls, now tight against my butt, his heart beating in his thick chest, his warm breath against my wet, stubbled face.
His fingers stroked me some more, slowly at first, and then a bit faster, until I felt my balls rising, until I was about ready to cum, shooting my seed into his fist, and against the warm rock ledge above the pool. And, then he slowed, until, finally, he just held me, hard and aching in his hand, my balls aching, unspent.
"Not yet," Bill whispered. "We've got all day, and we're going to take our time."
He turned me around, his big, calloused hands on the bare skin of my shoulders, until we were face to face, his eyes looking deep into mine, our cocks sliding against each other, and the wet fur of our chests tight against each other. I felt his breath and his heart beat in the depth of my own chest, my armpits wet now with more sweat, the sweat of lust, my need for him.
His cock was hard against my groin, and I felt his manhood tight against me, his shaft pulsing against my groin and my belly with every beat of his heart.
Bill's lips found mine, his thick moustache rough against my stubbled upper lip and the beginnings of my beard. We kissed softly at first, feeling the softness of our lips, our warm breath filling our noses with each other's warmth. His tongue pushed against me, finding my lips, my tongue, as he tasted me, his lust wet and probing, entering me for the first time.
"I want you," he whispered, his wetness slick and hot against my lips, soaking the stubble on my chin.
He moved his hand down my cheek, across my jaw, fingers touching the whiskers sprouting on my chin, and the hair that was barely a moustache.
"I like a man with a beard," Bill whispered. "It's about time you let yourself grow a real beard, a logger's beard."
"It's time, Ryan, to become a real man."
I blushed again, knowing now that Bill knew, too.
"I've never....", I stammered. And, I want..."
"I know," Bill said. "And, today, we're going to do whatever you want. And, we're going to make you into a real man. And, a real lover."
"I'm going to take you, deep, and hard. And, I'm going to make you cum, again and again. And, you're going to take me, too, however you want, whatever you've dreamed of.
"And, I'm going to teach you everything you always wanted to know... about being a real man."
I nodded, my head sliding down against his shoulder, as Bill took me deep in his arms, hugging me tight, one hand slipping down to my cock, jacking me a bit in his warm, slippery fist.
My hand gripped his cock, feeling him, hard and hungry in my fist, the skin of his shaft sliding slowly up and down, until my thumb slipped under his foreskin, feeling the slippery wet and the heat of his cock head, and the bit of ooze seeping from his piss slit.
"Yes, that's want I want," I thought, needing to feel his cock fill my mouth, to taste his pre cum, to take him deep, again and again, until he cried out, and soaked me with his seed, until it tumbled out of my mouth, dripping onto the hair of my chest, filling my nostrils with the smell of his cumming, as he cried my name, moaning in ecstasy.
I'd rehearsed that dance, again and again, this last year, nearly every night in my bed, wanting him, thinking of what he would be like with me, what it would be like to suck him, and to make him my lover.
The hot wind gusted a bit against my shoulders, the air warm with the smell of the forest, and the earthy scent of creek water that had soaked into my stubbled face. The summer breeze cooled the drops of creek water on my skin, sending a shiver up my spine, making my nuts rise a bit in their sack.
There was only the breeze now, and the rush of the water over the falls, and the silence of the woods, and Bill's breath soft against my face, as he kissed me again, finding my tongue, his fingers cupping my balls in his embrace.
We stood there, thigh deep in the cool water of the creek, holding each other, our cocks hard, pushed against each other's groins, Bill now running his fingers across my chest, finding my nipples, hardening them between his fingers. He caressed my face, again, rubbing the whiskers, telling me I was so handsome, that he'd been wanting me ever since I'd started on the crew.
He whispered again, letting me what we'd be doing, up on the ledge, and what he wanted me to be thinking about, as he took his time in getting to know me, in showing me what it was going to be like, to be his lover, and to spend the afternoon, and the weekend, with him here.
"We have all the time in the world to get to know each other," he said. "And all the time to try everything you've been dreaming about, and wanting.
We were going to take our time here, he said, just the two of us, fucking and sucking, and cumming, again and again, and getting to know the water, and the rock ledge, and each other, and what it was like to be a real bear in the woods.
"Anything goes," he whispered. "I want you to take me and make me yours, my logger man."
He kissed me again, his tongue again finding its way past my bearded lips, tasting me, having his way with me. His meaty fingers caressed my nipple, tweaking it a bit until it was hard, aching for more of his touch, sending yet more blood into my hard cock, now oozing with the first of my seed.
He moved down, kissing my lips again, and then my neck, my chest, finding my aching nipples with his lips and his tongue. He suckled me, exploring my tits, pulling and tugging on them with his whiskered mouth, tugging on the hairs that surrounded them, heating me up until I thought I'd cum with just his playing with my chest, and one hand caressing and cupping my balls.
Bill crouched down now, into the cool water of the shallow of the pool, his mouth sliding down my belly, into the thick mat of hair above my cock, until, finally, he began sucking a bit on the end of my cock, sliding my foreskin down a bit, exposing the wet, precum soaked head to the breeze that felt hot against my chest.
Sweat, lustful sweat, pooled in the hair in my armpits, dripping down my ribs, ending up in the carpet of hair on my belly, and into my crotch, where Bill was slowly, eagerly slurping away at my cock. My chest broke out into a sweat, making my nipples itch, as Bill's calloused hand stroked my nubs, and pulled softly on the fur blanketing my chest.
The sexual stink of my sweat mixed with Bill's sweaty pits, in the heat of the midday, my mind focused only on what Bill was doing, and what my cock wanted, so desperately.
He took me deep, then, sliding down my cock until his lips and beard were mashed into the soaked bush of hair in my crotch, setting the nerves on my cock on fire with lust. He slid up and then down again, slowly, letting the breeze cool the exposed root of my cock, and then wetting it again with his eager mouth.
My hands gripped his shoulders, as I struggled to keep my balance, as his mouth and a hand played with my cock, and my balls, cupping and stroking my sack. And, again, fingers strayed south a bit, going under my balls, and back around my hole, my sweat mixing with a bit of the creek water Bill would occasionally dip into, soaking my hole, and my balls every third or fourth stroke of his slippery mouth and sweat-streaked beard against my cock and fur.
I pulled him closer, urging him to go faster, my words now shortened to grunts and moans, as my nuts rose higher against the root of my cock, my cum building up tight inside of me. My eyes saw nothing now, nothing of the blue sky, and the tall thick trees, and the waterfall at the other end of the pool. Just white sheets of sexual energy, lust building to the point of no return.
Bill's fingers slid in me, then, slick with the creek water, slowly going deeper, until he found my swollen, eager prostate, and setting me off.
I exploded again and again, my chest heaving, gasping for air, my fingers digging into the strong muscles of his shoulders, as my cock spewed thick ropes of stored up cum deep into his mouth.
Looking down at my lover, I saw his beard now strewn with ropes of my cum, soaking his beard, and dripping onto the fur of his chest, a few drops falling into the pool of cool mountain water. I saw a thick film of new sweat soaking my chest, glistening in the light of the day, as Bill sucked me again, drawing out the last bit of cum.
He looked up at me, opening his mouth, showing me the glob of my cum sliding around on his tongue, framed by his whiskery face, his mouth now a big grin, happy with his success with me in the pool, making me cum hard and furious.
Bill slid off my cock, then, releasing my balls and slipping out of my hole, and rose, standing next to me, taking me in his muscled arms, and held me tight against the sweat of his furry, hard chest.
"Good job, buddy," Bill whispered, his voice slurred, almost lisping. He kissed me again, his tongue slipping into my mouth again, the gob that dampened his words, my cum now mixed with our spit.
He swallowed then, taking his bit of my cum, my seed deep into his mouth, into his belly, making what was part of me, my very essence, now part of him. He was my lover, now, taking me into him, making us one.
"You taste real good, don't you," Bill said, rubbing his fingers along my jaw, my stubble rough against his skin.
I nodded, not having enough breath yet in my lungs nor clearness of mind to find words for what Bill just did with me.
Bill held me, and walked me up onto the ledge by the pond, helping me stretch out on the warm rock, until I finally caught my breath.
He looked down on me, the big grin on his face, a bit of my seed glistening whitely against the dark whiskers covering his chin.
I lay there for what seemed like a long time, finally able to listen again to the soothing waterfall sounds, the breeze in the trees, and birds singing in the distance. The rich, hot earthy smell of the forest on a hot summer's day filled my nose, mixed with the drying musty smell of my sweat, and cum drying in the thick hair of my crotch.
Bill stood up, and brought the cooler next to where I was laying. He brought the whiskey bottle, too, and cracked open the cap, taking a swig. He wiped his lips with his deep tanned arm, and held out the bottle for me.
"Here, take a swig," he said. "You've earned it."
I took him up on his offer, sitting up now, and feeling the whiskey slide across my tongue, and burning just a bit down my throat. The dark smoky liquid mixed well with the smells of the forest, the sweat, and the jism I'd just spewed into my lover, and the jism that still clinged to my tongue.
We broke open the sandwiches and the other goodies of the big lunch that Bill had brought. I guess I'd worked up quite the appetite, with all the logging, and limbing, and sucking and cumming of the day.
After the second sandwich, we got back to the whiskey, taking a few more sips back and forth. We hadn't said much, not after all the moaning and grunting in our lovemaking.
But, now, Bill looked at me, taking a deep look at my face, and my chest, and my spent cock, which still oozed a bit of cum around my balls, now hanging loose in their furry sack, in the warmth of the rock, and the work that Bill had done with them.
"You're real good looking," Bill said, finally. "You've been hiding out from me, and what I'd been dreaming you looked like without your pants on isn't nearly as good as what I'm seeing now."
I blushed, again, not knowing what to say, or even what to feel. No one had ever done all that with me, before, and I still wasn't sure what to make of all of this. The last hour had gone by way too fast, for me. From logging, to skinny dipping, to cock sucking, well, it was hard to make any sense of it all.
"What about you," I finally said. "Seems like it should be your turn."
I blushed again, the words coming out of my mouth before I'd realized it.
Here I was, asking my boss if I could make love to him. He was about the biggest, most studly of a man you could imagine, and here I was asking him if I could have sex with him, again.
"Well, you're right about that," Bill said. "You need to get to know me at least as well as I know you, now.
"And, we got all afternoon. And all night and tomorrow, if you want. I've got a big sleeping bag stashed in the pickup, and there's enough food and booze for another day of this."
"If you'll be willing to put up me, that is," he grinned, chuckling at the thought of spending the weekend bare assed naked with me, taking turns on pleasuring each other, and screwing our brains out.
I laughed, too, laughing at the absurdity of it all. Not eight hours ago, I slid into his pickup, barely awake, heading off for a morning of running a chainsaw, trying to keep up with the biggest, meanest logger in all of the woods.
Bill pulled me up, then, his big arms reaching out to my hands, his biceps curling, his shoulder muscles flexing underneath the deep tanned skin of a working man. We moved out of the sun, which had shifted so that the rock ledge was taking the full brunt of the afternoon sun.
Underneath the shade of the big leaf maple, there was a big patch of moss and ferns, soft and cool under our bare feet. We laid down there, taking in the cool of the moss, and the funky, earthy smell of the moss, and the deep loam built up after hundreds, even thousands of years of leaves, needles, and ferns.
He laid on his back, pulling me on top of him, straddling his thick, muscled chest, my cock and balls laying against the thick curls of his belly fur, my hands now free to explore his pecs, his thick nipples, eagerly responding to my touch.
I went slow, taking my time to explore every inch of him, the thick curls of his armpits, his sensitive, demanding nipples, the thick whiskers that curled across his face, his ear lobes that needed extra attention.
And, then, taking my time, I moved south, down his hard belly, into the thick forest of his crotch, finding him eager for me, hard, throbbing, already wet with his need.
I tasted his ball sack, drawing him, one nut at a time, into my eager mouth, exploring him slowly with my lips, my tongue, as my fingers slowly slid along his cock, touching the big vein on the side of his cock, and the thick helmet, and the slippery wet of his cock head, the thin sensitive skin of his foreskin.
Soon, every slide up and down his shaft brought me a new taste of him, a hint of the cum that was building up strong in his balls, as his mouth spoke only moans and a groan now and then, telling me he was ready, ready to cum.
We danced then, the dance of time and the dance of men from the very beginning, until his voice rang out across the pool, and down the creek, and against the trunks of the big trees, until his hips pushed back at me, again and again.
And, finally, he shot, spewing his seed into my mouth and across my face, and then across his belly, and leaving a thick wad of his seed caught in the thick fur between his nipples, mixing with the fresh sweat soaking his heaving chest.
We swam again, cooling off from the heat of the afternoon, and the heat and the sweat of our sex, our passion cooling only slightly. There was so much more we wanted, so much more we were going to do that afternoon.
Later on, as the moon rose against the dark mountain ridge to the west, its light streaming through the limbs of the forest, and sparkling on the ripples of the pool, we made love again.
And, this time, I slid deep inside of him, my cock swelling and sliding into his hot hole, my balls bouncing against his muscular butt cheeks, the thick hair above my cock pushing against his balls, his once again hard cock trapped between our bellies, and we danced in the moonlight, urgently calling each other's name.
And, once again, we came, this time together, the coyotes picking up our song, as we danced again in the moonlight.
----- Oregon Bear, July, 2012