Green Man Pt. 05

The wives had dropped their men off on a lonely country road where they would look for the Green Man's shop to begin their apprenticeships. They agreed to return at the end of the day to retrieve their fellows. They return to the Darlington market eager to see Mr. Green's wares again. Joss and Sam manage to follow the cryptic instructions to the workshop where they encounter nicely homoerotic scene. Their first tasks as apprentices are not quite what they expected.

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"There!" shouted Sam. "I think the sound is coming from over the brow of that hill." Both Joss and Sam turned and began to scramble up through the bramble and brush as they followed what at first was just the faint, almost imperceptible sound of sawing and chopping.

Just a fence and then over it and into the wood. Within it was cool, the shade sweeping over them. This was not a plantation set out thirty, fifty or even a hundred years before. Nothing of that. It was all old-growth timber that had never been logged over. It was lovely, dark and deep and the melodic sounds of saws slicing through lumber came stronger to their ears accompanied by the staccato of axes on logs.

They followed the sounds eagerly, grinning at each other, wondering what they would find but each having conjured an idea of the likely scene. If you have seen photos of a lumber camp in the 1800's you will know what the men thought they were going to encounter: burly men in pants of heavy cotton duck, buffalo plaid shirts, old testament beards, and knit caps covering a straggle of hair.

They found none of that. Instead, trees. Just trees. They descended carefully through the forest, listening for the sounds that had drawn them this way. Yet the sounds seemed to be fading until all was quiet. Church-quiet. Not even the sound of birdsong. The tall trees soaring up like the aisle of a mediaeval cathedral in Europe. They had, indeed, entered a sacred place.

A rustling to their left caused the two men to turn and there he was; the Green Man seemed to materialize from amid or within the trees. He did not have on the clothes he wore at the market. In fact, he had no clothes on, yet he did not seem unclad exactly. His body hair grew as the leaves on a tree or vine, branching out and flowing in a wild tangle. It is not wonder they had not seen him, he would have blended in too well. In fact, he may have actually been a tree for all they could tell.

There was one very un-tree-like feature that caught their eye. Green's cock was erect and upright. It grew from a thatch of leaf-hair as if it were a limb stretching from a solid trunk. The Green Man was a stout one, a few inches taller than Joss and Sam, and muscular. His fertile penis was, it seemed, larger than his stature would have predicted, but not preposterously so. Joss had seen doctored images of normal men with horse-sized cocks and found them ridiculous, like juvenile graffiti on buildings and train cars.

Green stood in front of them, hands on hips, letting them take in the sight of his proud display. "Well, you've arrived."

The words floating in the air like thistledown until it landed on their ears. "Let us greet one another," he said and walked toward them, his cock bouncing at each step.

"Well, I can hardly greet you with your manhood hidden! Do not be bashful, now. It would not do. Out with them!"

Sam and Joss began to fumble with their belts and zippers. Stylish pants have such small zippers these days, a man can hardly fish himself out without torture. So, they unbuckled and unsnapped and zipped down. With their pants hanging from their hips, they brought their cocks into the air. The feeling of having their naked cocks flashing in the air made them feel intense freedom. Each looked down at his proud flesh, swelling slightly at the idea of being naked with other men.

Not content merely to have their cocks waving around, Green ordered them to disrobe completely. "You'll not be needing them," he commented. Without hesitation, both Sam and Joss took off their shirts and pants, underwear, socks and boots and left them in a pile. Now they were completely naked standing in front of their mentor, himself as open and free.

Like water poured over their heads, the feeling of calm confidence washed over them. Unashamed to be naked they each felt themselves erecting. A strange delight being out in the open with another man, indeed men, and erect moreover gave them each a surge of joy. Were these other circumstances, men naked in the woods like this would have been a cause for police action, arrests from cruising. But not here not now. Here they were completely exposed and completely safe.

Green turned and called to them to follow. "Bring your knife, man!" he chided Joss who sheepishly bent to slide it from his belt. Sam did not forget his, of course.

Without worrying about walking unshod through the forest, they stepped off behind him. Green seemed to glide through the brush as a man walks through the tide. His muscular back, covered in leaf-hair rippled as his weight shifted with each step.

Joss and Sam looked down to see their cocks bounding up and down as they walked. It was a boyish thing to do, to watch themselves so, but it was exciting and slightly illicit and therefore very enjoyable. It was as if they had a fifth limb or an antenna probing ahead of them, turning this way and that testing the air, perhaps for a scent. Perhaps, indeed, for the scent of a woman.

As surprising as it was to suddenly have Green materialize not long before. it was equally surprising to see a large wooden structure also appear. It was sheathed board-and-batten style, the roof made of shake shingles. Windows were open, shutters locked open with carved catches. How could they not have seen or noticed that before, Sam wondered.

The doors were flung wide and inside were men toiling at benches. Light poured in from the windows illuminating them. And every one of them was naked, balls swinging in time with their sawing and planing. Some sat carving or sanding, others conferring over plans and joinery. As Sam and Joss had found at home in their workshops, being without clothes is a joyous way to work.

And just as they had found, they could not but notice that a couple of the men, in examining their workmanship found it gave such pleasure as to make their cocks erect in evident satisfaction from a job well done or in appreciation for a gentle curve, a softened edge. So many naked men together, so many unhidden and potent penises.

They would like this naked apprenticeship very much.

As they entered the great wooden hall, Green stood feet shoulder-width apart, his rampant cock still standing proudly as he surveyed his apprentices and journeymen. He clapped his hands and work stopped. The men brushed chips from them and began to gather round in order to greet the newcomers.

"You are very welcome to our workstead." Said one of the journeymen, a thin man with veiny arms and hands. The rest of the company nodded their assent, smiling broadly, earnestly.

Joss's eyes fell, as they could not help doing, to the magnificent array of cocks before him. Some were circumcised, others not. It seemed the interruption of work called forth a great rising as the men seemed to erect. Cocks rising above the horizontal, some curved upward, some standing straight out, others were just straight and erect, pointing vertically. Even the older men whose cocks might have filled excitedly, yet be pulled downward by the weight of blood in them, seemed to have no trouble making their shafts year upward.

Though their altitude and shapes may have varied, there was uniformity as well. Encircling the shaft of each, just behind the crown, each wore a ring. Joss felt a shiver of excitement and wanted to go closer, to look at and examine them more carefully, but dared not move or even be caught looking.

The journeyman, Fraxinus by name, offered his hand. His hands were larger than symmetry would have predicted and their backs were crossed with blue veins and arteries. Joss and Sam mistook the movement for a handshake but it went not for the wrist, but lower.

With his palm up, Fraxinus placed his hand under Joss' scrotum and bounced his testicles, as if weighing a bag of seed, which indeed it is. As customs are today with elaborate greeting rituals like the High Five, hand jive, and "slip me some skin," so the woodmen executed a deft two-part hand shake. First was the ball grab, then, with palms still open, slid their hands up along the other's sensitive parts and grasped his shaft. Two or three quick strokes and the greeting was done.

How does one know when to let go? It's just something men learn to anticipate. And just as a two-handed shake is employed to express sincerity or joy, so the wood men might use both hands upon seeing one another: one hand cupping the scrotum and the other cinching the erect shaft.

Another man reached for Sam's naked scrotum. The carpenters were strong and their grasps were quite firm, causing Sam and Joss to grimace as shocks jumped up through their bellies. While grasping the newcomers, the woodmen pushed their own tackle forward to allow the guests to reciprocate the greeting.

The urge to conform is strong and Joss and Sam did exactly what was expected of them. Warm soft scrotal sacs in their hands, then the feel of its rigid penis above, both Sam and Joss took the greeting as offered: familiar, special, secret, erotic, and arousing. Sam could not help looking around at the array, at the remarkable sight of a whole group of men erecting as one. He saw some sacs were tight to their bodies, others remarkably loose and dangling.

The men greeted Sam and Joss with honor and trust as each man allowed his vulnerable, easily hurt, 'family jewels' to rest in these strangers' palms. They enjoyed having their aching cocks held tight in a hand other than their own. Each man stepped up and presented himself to be fondled simultaneously grasping the newly presented balls and cocks. So, it went until each man had been introduced.

By the end, Sam and Joss were so aroused they could think of nothing more than grabbing their cocks and stroking them to ejaculation and blessed relief. But that would not be allowed yet. It was intoxicating to be with other men, naked, erect, some cocks even dripping pre-cum, showing themselves, looking freely. The lines between straight and gay was gone, it does not exist in nature, only in the minds of the timid. Sam, had of course, experienced sexual pleasure with other men, not often, but enough to be comfortable with the idea and acts. Joss, though, had only secretly enjoyed being aroused by pictures and images of men. Here he was able to allow himself to be himself in joy and eagerness. They could not imagine ever going back to the strictures of their previous lives and the spare, furtive, moments of sexual expression.

Having done with the politeness, the men returned to their work. Green extended his hand, this time not to grab them by the balls but to show the way.

Sam and Joss were completely lost in wonder. Like illustrations in books from long ago, this shop had it all right there for them to learn how to use. No power equipment, just manual tools. Hand tools force the carpenter to learn from the wood rather than force the wood into submission.

"These are your benches, lads. Your first task is to make for yourselves rings. There are pole lathes there," he pointed indicating the simple manual machinery, "and brace and bit here. Select any wood you choose," waving toward the great store of lumber stacked and drying. "We all wear a ring around our manhood. It's a sign of our respect for the wood, keeping it close to the power of our creative energy."

At first they were undecided looking at the different colored blanks.

Timidly Sam asked Fraxinus about his own. A smile from the tall man and he reached down to his hanging penis and lifted it up and onto the bench. Beneath the soft preputial skin they could see Fraxinus' pronounced ring. For other men where foreskins had drawn back or had been excised the rings were visible. The range of woods were surprising. Slowly Fraxinus drew back his skin exposing his smooth crown. The action had a strange ritual quality as if Fraxinus was revealing something of himself.

"Boxwood," Sam recognized. He could see the fineness of the grain. Looking up at the journeyman, "Fraxinus, what size do we make the ring?"

"Your size!" The journeyman replied. "A man needs to know the size of his cock. He should be neither boastful because if the ring is too big it will fall to the ground, nor too small as the tightness will pinch when he is proud."

"Do I then make the ring between my limp and erect size?"

Fraxinus nodded, "A man's life should be neither hard nor soft. The place to be is betwixt and between." Of course, a cryptic adage, a koan. One had to ponder and try to apply the lesson. But then, the difference between a craftsman and an amateur is precisely his philosophy of the work. Is it an expression of himself or a simply a task done by hand? The two new apprentices would learn such lessons more painfully soon enough.

A cotton chalk line hung from a peg. First Sam and then Joss measured their flaccid cocks, pulling back their foreskins and wrapping the line carefully around each in turn. It was used to measure the circumference of their cocks. They snapped them onto the benches. No rulers, just a line of the correct length. The chalk remaining on their cocks indicted where their wooden one would lie eventually.

"But we need the other measurement. When we are firm," said Joss. That is always a man's most embarrassing number as he feels he never measures up. Neither long enough with enough girth to satisfy themselves. "Not long, but as big around as a beer can" and other jibes stay with a man his entire life. And never does a man dare ask a woman how she feels about a man's size and girth. No, it is a man-only problem. Perhaps women worry about other matters. "Does this make my ass look fat?"

Across the shop floor another man was standing admiring a piece of work he had completed. His cock waved in the air in obvious satisfaction for a job well done. A big, burly man with hair everywhere, even half way up his erection. It was a fine sight. A real man's man and certainly with a measurable erect penis, but Sam and Joss' were anything but, suffering from performance anxiety as they were. They were having trouble getting it up again.

Sam tried to think of erotic images, willing his penis to expand. Half-erect would not do. He needed to stand as firm as the other hairy carpenter. He could have conjured thoughts of his wife, Libby. Instead, and somewhat wrongly, thoughts of Joss' wife, Holly sprang to mind. Imagining her naked with her breasts hanging below, she was sucking his penis into an erection.

To no avail.

Nor was Joss achieving the manly state. His thoughts had moved from favorite images he had memorized from hours of watching porn to the sight of that hirsute man at his work bench. 'What might it feel like to grasp that cock, to stroke his own penis against his; feeling both the man's smooth glans and the touch of his hard, wooden cock ring as they frotted.'

"I don't think I can," Sam looked down at his feet past his cock, he felt ashamed. Fraxinus shook his head. "You need to develop control."

As the two men watched, Fraxinus' willed his dark-skinned cock to swell and lengthen. The men could not but admire how it pushed some of the wood blanks across the bench before it rose upwards, cobra-like, rearing its head.

He turned from the bench and faced the two men. "Let me help you this once." His hands reached and held. Firm and calloused big hands upon their penises. Without the least hesitation, he began to stroke the two limp penises to fullness. Fraxinus' hands moved up and down with practiced surety; a feeling of flowing warmth, male energy, tender yet strong. As the wiry journeyman stroked their penises, it worked, lifting the two men, restoring their vigour.

Their penises swelled in Fraxinus' hands, up into the air until there were three naked men standing together with pulsating upright cocks. Again, a new feeling for Sam and Josh. A wonderful feeling of strength, of sexual power and brotherhood as they stood with their male staves at attention.

Again, the chalk lines, again the snapping on the workbench. Two lines. Easy to find the midpoint - 'betwixt and between.'

Figuring the radius, they used a compass to scribe the dimensions of two concentric circles.

But they needed to choose the wood. Which of the blanks would they choose?

Sam and Joss, with rampant cocks leading, climbed around the stacks of lumber marvelling at the way they had been laid carefully in layers as each slab came off the tree in order. They found a room with off-cuts and blanks for turning, burls and knots that would slice into magnificent veneers.

Sam stooped to pick up a block of dense, black wood. He assumed it was ebony by its color, but it was heavier, like lignum vitae. Joss, rummaging through a stack of off-cuts, chose a wood of lighter color and grain. Box? Pear? He did not know.

They both knew how to use a lathe to turn things round. The spring-pole, with its reciprocating movement took, some getting used to, but they managed to cut the square blocks round. It was more difficult to bore the hole for their cocks to fit through so they resorted to a pilot hole, rasps, and finally some knife work to get them to fit. The ring had to slide over the end of the cock and fit snugly behind the crown in the small space separating the shaft and ridge. It took much trial and error to get the fit right.

Fraxinus checked on them as they worked showing them where other tools were located, but did not instruct them when he saw obvious errors. Better to let them experience success and failure on their own. Lessons are better learned directly than from advice. He did kindly give them each a woven lanyard from which to suspend their sloyd knives. Without belts, it was difficult to have the knife always at hand.

At last, they were finished and both eager for Green to inspect. They hunted him out, eager like schoolboys for the approval of the master, and placed the rings in his hand. He turned them over then held them close, inspecting. He named the species they had chosen by several common names and even their latinate names. He looked, yes, but seemed to caress the two carved elements. The wood was sacred to him whether live and growing or sawn, carved and finished. His face was inscrutable.

"Are you satisfied with your work? You have given it the best of your effort?"

Sam nodded. Joss shrugged.

"You are not done until you have finished fully. Place your rings so we can see how they fit."

Joss pinched the crown of his prodding penis and pulled it through the ring, settling it in place. Sam did likewise. They liked the feeling of manipulating themselves and adorning their cocks with the wooden jewelry.

When they were properly fitted, Green directed them to a nearby workbench. The rest of the men had stopped working and gathered round loosely to watch.

Green had Joss and Sam lay their tumescent cocks on the bench top. The cool surface of the table soothing the heat coursing through their erect cocks. They had to stand close to the bench, pressing their tights against the edge. It felt good to be erect, a ring sweetly tightening around their shafts. The gentle stricture felt good. Their penises looked good, they thought, lying on the bench, adorned as they were with a ring.

Then, in self-congratulation, they mused, perhaps they would be told to show off their first project. told to stroke themselves and explain how the ring affected their self-pleasure. Their habits of competition crowded out any humility they should have felt as apprentices. Perhaps they would be asked to cum for the rest of the company. It was a strange thought and a pleasure. Neither had come for days. That was good because they would wish to produce in quantity, and show their pearly manliness spewed across the bench.