Tale of the Logger

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A logger's tale told to his friend.
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penster
penster
2 Followers

"How's the wee one?"

"Good, good. She's feeding like crazy. Sally hardly gets any time to do anything else. Feeding, changing, trying to catch up on some sleep. Sometimes a shower when there is time."

"That's the way it is, my friend."

"I know that, Tom, but how would you? You've never been around a woman longer than you need to get her knickers off."

"Now, now. If it weren't for our long lasting friendship I'd have to offer you a couple of smacks around the ears, Mister."

Frank the bartender shook his head. Every time Tom and Harvey were in to have a 'wee drink' they talked to each other in their own comedic way. Not that they allowed anybody else to partake in their banter, lest it turn serious. Somebody could get hurt getting a friendly smack from Harvey or Tom. Both were burly men, the daily wielding of chain saws and walking up and down steep hill sides having left their marks in the form of oversized arm and leg muscles.

For all those long years that Frank had known Harvey and Tom they had logged as a team. One picking up the contract under the condition that the other would be part of the the crew. The arrival of Harvey's daughter six months earlier had seen an end to this well rehearsed practise.

"So, how was the contract up north?"

"Well, a round of beers could see me telling you a mighty queer story."

"Ah, how a bout an appetiser to help me make up my mind?"

"So, all good then, if that's how you want to play it. Now, where to start. Well. So. Anyway, as you well know I got a call couple of weeks back. So this chap wanted me to get my gear together and trek around in his woods. Apparently his neighbours had caught the borer and his woods were looking a bit worse for it. Well, parts of it.

So, when I arrived after a blimmin two hour drive, no idea how he got my number and why he couldn't get anybody local, but anyway. I knocked on his door and asked him what he needed doing. Had a chat over the phone, but he was a bit short, so I wanted to hear it in full and write out a bit of a contract.

Anyhow, this fella was in his 60s, looked like he hadn't seen a day's hard labour in his life. Started asking me if I could get horses to pull the trees out, since he was a great believer in organic use of the land. So I told him that I could poop on the stumps if he wanted it organic.

Well, he wasn't happy about that one."

"Tom, get to it, will you?"

"Get the beers and you can hear the rest of the story."

"So far it's all just palaver, you twit. Give me something juicy, you old hound."

"Beers first."

When Harvey had returned with the beers Tom picked up his tale, clearly revelling in the fact that his friend was glued to his every word.

"Where was I? Ah, yeah, pooping on the stumps. Well, the old fella didn't find it funny, but his lady sure did, judging by the hand she clapped over her mouth.

Well, you know how it is with me and hippies. I told him how I work, that I don't like making more of a mess than necessary and all that malarkey. But no way in hell was I gonna get some horses. What a tit, probably seen that on History Channel.

Anyway. I made my way into his woods. Nice woods they were, too. Some trees had the rot and some had the worm, so I did an estimate and wandered back to the house. Good half hour trek from one end of the property to the other.

When I let them know the price the two seemed quite happy. And now it gets juicy Harv, you'll love this. Sorry, I know you and Sally are in lurv, but ..."

"Hurry the freekin' hell up, Tom."

"So. Anyway, the lady asked me if she could come and check out how many trees there had to be felled. Seemed a bit queer, considering she had no problem with the price I quoted.

So off we trod and when we were out of earshot from the house she started opening up. My oh my did she open up, Harv.

Her name was Rosie. Was quite a bit younger than her man, probably our age, 40ish. Nearly wet herself all again re-telling the stump bit of our first conversation. Didn't think it was that funny, but she sure did. Said her hubby was mighty obsessed with his publication figures, professor or some such thing. Lectured sociology she said. Anyway, what with him being nearly retired and one of the best in his field she didn't think it such a drama with the publications. 'What's one more when you've got plenty already?' is what she said.

Told me how she and the prof met. He was her lecturer. Threw her out of his class and straight into his bed. Didn't want no conflict of interest. And now he seems to ogle the young students a bit, but nothing serious.

Anyway, long story short, she wanted to see all the trees. Thought she was gonna wail over every single one, being a hippie's wife and all that. Instead she pointed out a cabin to me. For lunch and afternoon tea. As if I had time for that. Anyway, insisted on showing me the inside. Yes, Harv, I know, you want the juicy bits. Coming to that right now.

So, once inside she told me that her ol' man has been lacking in the old bed department a bit. Only twice a week, lately. I didn't tell her that that's probably lots for other people. Turns out she wanted my skin, the bloody woman. Wasn't a nympho or anything, just wanted to get back at her hubby for ogling. As if he would care. Anyway.

Yes, I'll give you the details right friggin' now, you whining bastard. Ah, another beer first, though."

Upon Harvey's return and a generous swig Tom resumed his story.

"She wore just normal clothes, you know, nothing fancy. But she had the most delectable arse you could imagine.

So I kissed her and grabbed hold of her butt cheeks. God they felt good. Soft, full but not too full. Just peachy perfect, those little buns.

After a bit of tongue fencing I knelt down in front of her. Peeled her jeans and knickers right off.

'Hey there sailor, not so fast,' she said, 'a bit more foreplay would be in order, I believe.'

Told her: 'Ain't no sailor. Where I come from they know when the timber is falling and then it's chop, chop, business time. But I'll show you foreplay.'

And so I lifted her onto the little table in the cabin. Her naked arse must have been a bit cold on the rough table, but when I started kissing her thighs she sure as hell started quivering, Harv. She had a bit of a bush, nothing unruly, well manicured. Her lips were just so lovely. When I licked her from left to right and from top to bottom she really got into things. And one point she put both her legs over my shoulders and tried to wrench my head clean off. Pulled her off the table by standing up with her legs around my neck. Gave her a smack on the arse for being a naughty girl. God she loved that. Squealed like a wee piglet.

Anyway, when I found her buttons I sure as hell pushed them. She liked playing with my arms. Pushed her hands right under her own arse to be able to reach them. So I flexed them a bit. Then she got her fingers under my shirt and told me to tense my chest muscles. All in all I think I must have licked her for a good 20 minutes. I loved every minute of it. So did she. Nearly came once, but said that it was a bit too uncomfortable to relax.

Ah, but was it good or what? I stopped licking her and then I just flipped her over. Had her hugging the table and then I slapped her arse some. She squealed again. Oh how I loved those sexy buns. Shaking from my slaps, getting all red. And me getting all ready. But you know me, Harv, I'm all gentleman. So I turned her back over and set her at the edge of the table. Kissed her long and gentle, didn't I? And slowly, really slowly knocked on her door with my pecker. She grabbed my chest again, this time with her whole hand. Told me to move my arms, make my muscles play, she really liked that. Told me her hubby was different in bed, good, but different. Meant nothing to me, I was thinking through my pecker at that time.

Anyway, my pecker slowly slid into her. God was she wet. Her lips were wide open from my licking, her eyes were all fiery, her hands right hot. So I grabbed her arse, slid right into her. I tell you Harv, it was heaven. She was so, well, wet. And we both seemed really hungry. You know, sometimes it's just nice to have a bit of sex and sometimes you're just so wild. Well, we were well wild. We must have done it for over an hour. Every time I thought I'm going to come she pulled off me and pinched my pecker. Mighty queer, never had any woman do that. Worked though, feels like it's gonna fall off and then you go again. Restart from zero.

Anyway. We did wreck the table. Legs must have been screwed on a bit shoddy. And she lost her knickers, had to clean herself up somehow. Dug it under one of the tree stumps. Was only 20% polyester, so that nearly counts as organic, doesn't it?"

"You're unbelievable, Tom. How do you always do it that the ladies fall for you?"

"Don't know, but that one sure didn't fall for me, she tripped me right up. Wild one, that one. Came to the cabin at 12 every day on the dot. Brought some hot food and then had me give her a good seeing to. And then paid me a bonus for 'doing the job properly.'

Well, that's me done Harv. Glad you weren't there this time, sure as hell wouldn't have wanted to share her."

"No, Tom, my Sally would have had my nadgers for tea if I would have done anything like that. Guess I'll just have to keeping buying you beers to hear what's going on in the world."

"True, my friend, true. So how about that beer?"

penster
penster
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AnonymousAnonymousover 12 years ago
Well done

A good quick read. Good style too.

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