Wood Chips: Chapter II
by Billy Jay Dee
As the dark winter days settled deeper onto the Alaskan landscape, I saw very little of Jeff. We ran into each other occasionally in town. Once, before the cold snap in December, we got together for lunch and a long, hot afternoon at his cabin out the road.
It was just before the skunk cabbages started poking their yellow heads out of the muskeg that I heard from him again. My wife had taken the kids to the youngest one's first swim meet in Ketchikan. The phone rang right after I got home from work.
"Hey, it's Jeff," said the low, husky voice when I answered. "You need any more wood chips? It's getting warm enough to work on your yard again."
"Yeah, it is. And I could use some," I responded. My hand slid automatically to my crotch. Damn, the man's voice was sexy, even in casual chatting.
"Well, how 'bout tomorrow you come out and I give you a load, Bill," he said, a malicious laugh punctuating the double entendre. "It builds up some -- the wood chip pile, I mean."
"That would be great." My cock began to harden and twitch under my prodding finger. I didn't want to wait that long.
"Tell you what, Jeff. I'm pretty much free tonight if you're going to be home..."
"Hell, yes," he almost shouted. Such enthusiasm. He must have been pussy-less for a long time now.
"I'll be out as soon as I grab a bite to eat and shower, okay?" I tried to keep my voice cool and steady, but somehow the last word came out as a nervous squawk.
A gobbled ham sandwich and lick-and-promise shower later, I was speeding long the curving, Sitka spruce lined nine-mile stretch to Jeff's place.
Even in my rush, I remembered to take my digital camera and the "rubber toys" Jeff seemed to like when I introduced them to him back in October. We had shared a motel room in Seattle for two nights and did some major erotic exploration.
It was dark at 7:00 p.m. Only a front light was visible at Jeff's place on the pot-holed gravel road. It was nice for early March, that is the wind wasn't blowing the rain up under your Hailey Hanson. A dog barked at the house closer to the water, a good distance away.
Jeff came out the back door onto the small deck and called to me. He was wearing blue jeans and a white T-shirt. Even in the dark, lit only by the light streaming from the upper windows, I could see his muscular figure was as trim as ever.
"Hi, c'mon in," he said in a very friendly tone, his voice husky.
"Hi, I brought some stuff for you," I said, holding up the plastic grocery bag containing a six-pack of beer, the rubber toys, a tube of lubricant and my camera.
We went in through the sliding door to his bedroom, which is always neat and clean. A handmade quilt covered the bed and strange, tacky plaques hung on the wall. A lamp on each side of the bed provided light that not visible from outside through the blindless windows.
He led the way to the kitchen, a compact area with a nook for a maple dining table bearing gingham design plastic placemats on two sides. The adjacent living room is all glass in the front, sparsely furnished with a large sofa and chair. A huge stone fireplace is at one end with an antique muzzle-loading rifle over the mantle. A nice fire blazes there. No TV set. A long coffee table has a monstrous philodendron with long tendrils hanging out over the ends. Youâ??d expect the plant to be long dead and the place a mess, but the handsome stud has eighty year old â??lady friendâ?? he stops by to take care of him and the house every Wednesday. Itâ??s rumored he takes care of her on the same afternoon. A huge 10-point deerhead trophy is the only wall adornment.
As he put my beer in the fridge and retrieved two for us, I noticed he was clean shaven. He had worn a moustache or a beard and moustache the last several times we met. He is ruggedly handsome -- a big nose, small mouth, square dimpled chin and dark bushy eyebrows. His ice blue eyes hold no mystery -- they are boldly honest. I noticed he had developed a very slight "beer gut" just in recent months, but that would no doubt disappear with the outdoor activities encouraged by the warming spring days. When he handed me the beer, he reached between my legs and squeezed my dick and balls.
I commented about his clean-shaven face, running my hand over his cheek. He looked into my eyes -- blue to blue.
"Take your pill?" he asked, smiling.
"Yeah," I said, feeling the heat rise in me while he massaged my growing hardon. I reached for him and found his semi-hard dick.
"Um," he groaned. I leaned into him and could smell soap and a very light after-shave. After a minute of hugging and rubbing, I pulled away.
"We have some time tonight," I said. "My wife is staying in Ketchikan until tomorrow."
"Good," he said, sitting down at the table and taking a sip of beer.
We talked for a few minutes about what we'd been doing for the past four months. He suggested we go into the bedroom. I agreed and followed him back. He went into the bathroom to take a leak. I could hear his groan of release and the harsh tinkling as I started to undress. I had brought the camera to the bedroom, but forgot the toys. By this time, I didn't care. My pulse pounded and my cock ached to be released.
I watched him in the bathroom across the hall while I undressed. He came into the bedroom his pants undone and his semi-erect dick poking out just as I was taking off my shirt. He had on white jockey shorts and his dark dick contrasted beautifully with them. He stripped in no time and was lying on the bed gripping his hardon -- now straining at its full eight inches -- while I pulled off my socks and bikini shorts.
I wanted to go right for his dick, but tonight I figured I'd extend our foreplay. I lay down halfway atop him and began licking and nibbling his earlobe while I played with his chest hair. I could feel his very hard cock against mine and his warm balls on my upper leg.
I kissed his cheeks and forehead and eyes, then a brief, soft touch to his lips. Sometimes he turns his mouth away at first, but then lets his lips return hungrily to mine. I went to his chest and sucked his right nipple.
"Ooooh, yeah," he groaned. "Feels good."
I nibbled the small pencil eraser tip of his nipple and moved to the left one while I lightly fondled his cock and balls. I slid my tongue down his hairy belly and plunged it into his deep navel. He moaned and twisted beneath me. I could tell he was very hot. His cock throbbed in my fingers and his breathing was ragged.
When I got to his dick, I said, "Let me take some pictures now."
He agreed readily, putting his arm across his face to disguise his identity. He knows I may show them to "my friend" on the Internet. I took three photos of him with his hardon poking up. The camera got a little shaky by the time I got to the last one. If my dick was considerably longer, I would have had a tripod. In lieu of that, I set the camera up on the dresser for a timed exposure and got into the picture sucking his cock for two shots.
Then I went to work in earnest on his dick and balls. I held the base of his stiff prong in my fingers tightly and licked at the swollen dark purple head. I eased back and watched as I pressed my thumb upward on his amazingly prominent cumtube, extracting a brief flow of nearly clear precum. I licked the shaft downward from the wide, drooling head. His cock juice had no taste at all, but the musk of his crotch was like a heady perfume.
I then went to his dark wrinkly ball sack which is almost totally devoid of hair despite the extreme hairiness of all the surrounding area. His balls are naturally that way. He doesn't shave them, of course.
I sucked on the right one which is larger than the left, as big around as a ping pong ball. Then I slurped in the other one. There was no way to get both fat nuts into my mouth.
Suddenly, Jeff began to tug on me, twisting me around in bed so he had access to my cock. His usual love was licking and nibbling my ass checks then tongue fucking my asshole in preparation for drilling me. He has on past occasions tentatively licked and pressed his mouth against my cock and balls. but this time he began to work on them in earnest, taking my growing cock allthe way into his mouth.
He pulled me off his cock and had me stand on my knees while he sucked noisily on my dick and gently squeezed my balls. Damn, it felt good!
Maybe a little too good. I felt pre-orgasmic pressure building rapidly in my nuts, so I pulled away.
"Oh, hold it. I'm ready to cum. I don't want to cum yet," I said. He backed off immediately and I gripped the base of my cock tightly to keep it from going off. But I was too late. My cum spurted and flowed, running down over his hairy chest.
"Oh, God, I'm sorry," I mumbled.
Jeff's blue eyes never batted nor did his broad hairy chest flinch at the white whip of cum. He grabbed a tissue and wiped his chest. He then lay face down on the bed, his hard muscled, very white ass cheeks raised slightly and his huge cock and balls poking backward between his dark hairy thighs.
I thought about going to get one of the dildos I'd brought, but thought better of it. I decided instead to work on him with my fingers. I put my index finger against his puckered hole and slid it in easily up to the second knuckle.
Holding my breath in hopes that this was what he had in mind, I turned my finger so that I was touching his prostate. It was there -- healthy, slightly swollen and sensitive.
"MMMMMmmmmmmm, ooh," he grunted. His ass rose higher and I slid in a second finger. "Yeah, oh, oh, Bill," he said.
With my fingers still in his ass, I tugged him up on his knees, lay with my back on the bed and stuck my head between his legs from the back. I licked his balls and then began sucking his cock while I pumped my fingers in and out of his hot ass. He maneuvered himself so that he was standing on the floor and began to pump his cock into my mouth very hard, nearly choking me.
He began growling in a deep voice, "Yeah, motherfucker, suck that cock. Take it all." I fearedhe was going to suffocate me so I managed to pull his widening prick out of my throat until the broad head rested just inside my cheek. He sputtered and muttered unitelligibly, still ramming and poking his big rod in and out of my stretched lips.
I pulled his cock out of my mouth and turned over on my stomach to get more control. Without asking or anything, he leaned forwarded, stretched his long right arm across my body and started cramming his fingers in my ass. I jerked back a little in response, but kept sucking on the head while holding the shaft with one hand and squeezing his balls with the other. His left hand came down on my right shoulder. He pinned me to the bed while grunting and groaning and fucking my face.
"Oh, oh, I'm ready," he finally groaned. He popped his cock from my mouth, gave it two or three quick jerks with his own calloused hand and it began to spew. I held my open mouth over it and caught most of his spurting jizm on my tongue. He gave me four or five good heavy shots, the most I've ever seen from him or any other partner!
One burst of cum he'd carefully aimed into my right eye by twisting my head with his left hand. The part that landed on my tongue tasted bitter but not unpleasant, like the tang of a dark imported beer. I closed my mouth over the throbbing head to get the last dribbles of his juice. A bit of the bluish milky effluent ran down the sides of his dark prick and I licked it clean.
When I looked up at him, his face was like that of a saint transported -- his mouth was slightly open and his twilight blue eyes opened and closed rapidly. He staggered and almost fell on top of me.
"Ah, that was great, Bill, just great," he said. I sat up on the side of the bed and he gave me a quick, hard hug. I felt good.
As we started to dress, I thought about the wood chips. But I judiciously kept my mouth shut. I could check on those tomorrow.
The End