Lumberjacks

I just couldn't wait anymore.

I turned away from Bastien, slowly dropped my pants down to my ankles, teasing him, and leaned against the tree, arching my back so that my hole was as exposed to him as possible, ready to be claimed and used as he saw fit.

It was getting dark. The dark green of the treetops clashed with the yellowing sky as birds flew south, fleeing the nearing Winter with a sense of hurry that Bastien didn't seem to have.

He stood still at first, balancing his heavy ax on his broad shoulder as lust flickered in his eyes. Even from this far, I could see droplets of sweat on his forehead, making his black hair look wet, and his strong, bulky chest heaving up and down under his red flannel shirt, exhausted from the hard day's work that had just ended. But I too was tired, and some comfort was all I was asking from my friend.

Then I heard his boots crushing dead leaves as he began walking toward me, staring at my bare ass very hard, making me twitch in anticipation and almost beg for him to hurry up and touch me already. The cool breeze of late Fall kissed my ass cheeks, making me feel lonely as I waited for him to come and finally warm me up.

I could hear the rest of the boys in the distance, heading back to camp and getting ready to drink enough whiskey to drown a bear in, alcohol and songs around the campfire being the only fun we had being so far into the woods. I and Bastien had to be quick, otherwise they could worry and come looking for us.

But my Canadian friend didn't seem too bothered by that possibility, and when he finally reached me he just slowly ran his calloused, heavy hand over my ass, making me shiver as he looked me in the eyes with an expression of excitement mixed with something else I couldn't quite figure out.

It was a shame he spoke so little English, and I, no French at all. But sometimes I felt like I could read his thoughts on his big amber eyes, and when he began gently running the tip of his fingers over my asshole, I could see they were silently asking: "Is this what you want?"

"Yes," I whispered, but the word escaped my lips in an incomprehensible sigh of pent-up lust.

Bastien lifted his ax from his shoulder, never breaking eye contact, then reclined it against the tree I was hugging, and moved to my back, out of my sight, where I could only guess what he was doing by the sounds he made and by what part of his body was touching mine. I tried turning my head to keep looking at him, intoxicated by the flirty, confident smile he gave me whenever our eyes met, but he grabbed my head and forcefully pushed it back against the tree, making it clear that I shouldn't move.

This was the exact position he wanted me in, and so I complied, arching my back a little more, and closed my eyes to picture his face, remembering the way his eyes closed whenever he gave me a cocky smile, and his big nose, always red whenever he got too drunk and began laughing, throwing his head back and showing off his thick, manly neck, lightly covered in the stubble he didn't seem eager to turn into a fully grown beard, or disciplined enough to shave every morning.

I began breathing hard as I heard the sound of him undoing his pants, pulling them down just enough to free his hard member.

My mind ran wild. I wanted to see it, I wanted to find out if it was as big as everything else on that man. But I wouldn't dare move after he had made his orders so clear, and was left wondering if his dick was just as thick as his strong arms, powerful enough to cut through the hardest timber in the forest like it was nothing but a bunch of twigs.

Fortunately, the sound of him spitting on his hand made it clear it wouldn't be long before I felt how hung he was.

And in a considerate gesture, Bastien began smearing his spit all over my hole, applying more and more of it as he felt it needed even more lubricant to take him in, and gently massaging my asshole without any rush, until I was almost dripping, excited by the firm way he used his other hand to grab one of my cheeks and push it aside, displaying my hole as much as possible while he slid his pinkie inside of me.

I moaned, glad to finally be touched that way. It had been so long, so long since I had first laid eyes on the Canuck, and I had spent so many days staring at him as he swung his ax with all his strength against the trees, hitting them in a rhythmic, powerful, precise way, making me dream of being subjected to a similar display of his raw power.

And now it was about to happen.

And as it became clear his finger was sliding inside of me with ease, Bastien began using his surprisingly thick middle finger instead, forcing me to relax my hole a little more in order to let it in, making me moan as each articulation forced its way through, until I felt his knuckles pushing against my ass as he caressed my smooth insides, grazing my prostate and making me drip precum like a leaky faucet. Then he took his finger away slowly, all the way out, until I was again feeling empty and lonely, and proceeded to slide it back in once more. I was feeling particularly receptive that evening, but nevertheless struggled to let him back inside every time he took it all the way out, and I shuddered at the thought of what was going to happen next, if this guy could get me so worked up with just a finger.

But after a few moments, he had worked me so loose that it wasn't hard anymore, and decided to increase the challenge, and my pleasure, by sticking two fingers up my ass. And he moved them inside of me, sometimes stimulating my prostate, others just bending them like a hook and pulling me up, forcing me to keep arching my back, making me feel like nothing but a hole for him to play with.

Then he chuckled, realizing I was now relaxed enough to handle something meatier. He slapped my ass a few times, not worrying about all the noise he was making in the woods, and then shook it a little, satisfied by the way my bubble butt jiggled while he waited for the redness from his strikes to develop, and then slapped it again, always letting out and interrogative sound, as if asking if I wanted more, which I replied with gasps and moans that he took for permission to be as rough as he wanted.

But I forgot all about how sore my ass felt when he began rubbing the tip of his dick against my asshole.

I was still wet from his spit, but I could feel how covered in precum his dickhead was. We were ready for each other. And so he began applying pressure, pushing the tip of his cock against my hole, making me painfully aware of how much meatier than a couple of finger that thing was, and as soon as I had relaxed enough to let it in, feeling it stretching me and rubbing against my insides, he took it out and began rubbing it over my poor asshole again, then forced it in once more, then out again, making me so excited, so eager for his manhood, that I became looser and looser, until he was able to get inside of me in a single movement with no effort, which he began doing repeatedly, using just his dickhead to fuck me.

I was in heaven, but it was hell. I was breathing hard, feeling like a bitch in heat, begging for him to fuck me with all he got already, but his cock head alone was hard and big enough to make me crazy. I couldn't believe how open I was feeling, it was like he had worked me loose enough to fuck me with a doorknob, which couldn't be much different from what he was doing right now.

The Canadian laughed, seeing the state he had put me into, and then passed his unbelievably strong arm around my neck, bending me backwards, almost choking me, then he stood still, his dickhead inside of me as I tried to keep my ass as high as I could get it. And I could feel his other hand firmly grabbing my hip when he began breathing down my neck, then slowly moving up, rubbing his stubble against my skin and making me shiver with the rough, sturdy way he was manhandling me.

I shook like a leaf when he pressed his lips against my ear, then let out an interrogative groan, his voice very deep, as if asking, without words: "Like this?"

And I rolled my eyes when he finally began sliding his shaft inside of me.

And I was shocked to see his girth went beyond my expectations.

Bastien grabbed my hip with so much force that I was afraid he was going to crush me, and firmly held me in that position as he began feeding me more and more man meat, stretching my hole to its limits and making me fall into a slight panic as I felt him getting deeper and deeper, with no end in sight, my heart beating so hard I was afraid my chest was going to explode. I began breathing harder, in shallow and rapid repetitions as I tried to take him in, then looked down at my feet, flustered, looking for his ax, trying to make sure he was fucking me with his cock and not with that wooden handle.

But his ax was still resting against the tree.

I shook my head, and tried to back away from his dick, unable to stand how deep it felt, and how much it was stretching me open, but the lumberjack held me tight, then stood still and began shushing into my ear, trying to calm me down.

We stood like that for a few moments, his dick almost halfway inside of me as we hugged in the woods, the sunset now painting everything in a golden hue, the birds singing far away as I began calming down, my breath slowly getting in lockstep with Bastien's own as he pressed his barrel chest against my shoulder blades and kept shushing into my ear, patiently waiting for me to be ready to take him whole.

I got the impression he was used to dealing with panic attacks whenever he fucked someone.

Bastien began kissing my neck and running his thick fingers up inside my shirt, over the side of my torso, making me shiver in pleasure with the light, ticklish way he caressed me, until I was finally able to relax once again, and he slowly began pushing my ass back toward him, now trying to make me let him in at my own pace, and I felt my hole swallow more and more of that man as I went back, and moaned in lust and disbelief when I felt his low-hanging balls against my butt.

I couldn't believe how big that thing was, how deep inside my guts it was poking, and how thick it felt, stretching my hole like never before, pressing my prostate and stimulating it with its sheer girth.

Bastien stopped choking me and took his arm out of my neck, grabbed the back of my head and pushed it against the tree, bending me over and getting me in position to be fucked. But then he also bent over me, pressing his muscular chest against my back again and making me feel the weight of his body over mine as he went somewhat limp, resting over me and making me feel subdued by nothing but the size of his hefty, musclebound manliness.

What a fucking stud.

And then he stuck his hand inside my shirt again, this time running it up over my belly and chest until he found my nipple, and began gently playing with it while we stood still, basking in that moment of complete intimacy, as close together as two people can get, two bodies occupying the same place. Then Bastien gave me another small kiss on my shoulder before he began moving his hips and fucking me nice and slow.

His movements forced me to focus on nothing but relaxing and letting him do whatever he wanted to, and I was grateful by the way he did it gently at first, playing with my nipples and holding my hip.

After a while, Bastien stood back up, always holding me in place, and began fucking me deeper, rocking his hips back a little more every time before thrusting his member inside of me again and again, until I began feeling his dickhead stretching my hole to get out, and then stretching it again as he forced it back in. And at that point, feeling the length of his whole dick as it went through me, as he made me painfully aware of just how much cock this Canadian had to use on me, I began losing my mind, rolling my eyes and paying attention to my ass only, trying as best as I could to give it up to him. I was completely his, my asshole was completely his, and all I wanted was for him to use it as hard as he wanted, like nothing but a hole for him to dump his urges in.

And when he began grunting louder and louder, fucking me faster and harder, angrily squeezing me as he held me in place, I turned my head to look at him, and our eyes met. And he gave me one of his beautiful cocky smiles, only this time there was something mean about it, like he was enjoying how much I was struggling to keep up with how hard he wanted to fuck me, and he kept thrusting his giant member inside of me with all his might, like he was trying to make a point about demanding I gave in completely, and I could read his mind by the wicked twinkle he had on his eyes:

"Your ass is mine now, bitch."

And Bastien began slapping my butt again, harder than ever, making me moan and cry a little each time, and he groaned like a bear as I looked into his eyes and asked him for more. I couldn't get enough of him, I wanted it deeper, faster, harder, stronger. I wanted to feel him using all of his rock hard muscles against my helpless hole, I wanted him to abuse me with all his power, to feel all his manliness as he came inside of me.

And as I got more and more excited, Bastien began saying things in French I couldn't understand, but that nevertheless made me feel very dirty, like a worthless little whore. And as his words began turning into deep moans once again, he began repeating just a few of them over and over, making it easier for me to guess what he meant.

"Putain... Putain, ça c'est bon... ma petite salope, ma petite salope..."

"Fuck," I moaned in reply, "please, don't stop, please, don't stop..."

But Bastien suddenly seemed angry at me for talking, and covered my mouth with his hand, making me shut the fuck up as he began groaning louder than ever, and fucking as hard as he could go, my words now just muffled moans of lust and desire as the sound of his big balls smacking my ass echoed loudly throughout the forest.

I closed my eyes in pure ecstasy. There was nothing right now that could make me feel more fulfilled than that Canadian dick up my ass, ramming me so hard I was afraid he would bring down the tree I was hugging. And I kept trying to open my eyes now and again, shaking my head as I felt my mind drifting away, my consciousness slowly fading even as I tried my best to keep aware of my surroundings, but was forced to give up on that idea again and again as Bastien's hefty balls hit against my taint, blanking my mind as his firm hold made me feel helpless, with no other option but to grit my teeth and accept whatever he decided to do to me, and I sighed and moaned as he fucked my brains out.

That's probably why it took me so long to notice John watching us.

And it took me a split second to realize what that meant.

Several feet from us, not really hiding his presence, the young foreman was standing with his arms crossed, staring at me with his steel blue eyes. He had certainly come looking for us, and followed the thumping and moaning sounds that filled the woods this evening.

And we had been found out. John's dead serious gaze met mine, making my ass flinch as I felt thunderstruck by his stern expression, an expression of silent anger I had never seen on his beautiful face.

That sight scared me shitless, and I tried saying something, but Bastien was still covering my mouth and simply ignored my muffled protests. The Canuck kept fucking me as I tried to tell him what was going on, and firmly held me in place as our boss watched me taking Canada's biggest cock up my ass.

I stopped protesting. There was nothing I could do, and all the fucking lust I was feeling right now suddenly became even stronger, and took over me as I realized how excited that situation was making me.

I liked being powerless to make Bastien stop. I liked having been found out, being judged by my boss' blue eyes in this dirty, slutty situation I had put myself into.

Why was it? What was it about the way John stood watching me, with his strong arms crossed, that made me feel even hornier? I knew I'd always found him a very attractive man, being so tall, so muscular, so sturdy as he was. And I loved his blond hair and beard, and his masculine facial features, thick eyebrows, square jaw, full lips...

And the angry way he stared at me. Fuck. What was wrong with me?

"So that's where you guys were," he said from where he stood, and Bastien froze still when he noticed the foreman walking toward us. I don't know what went through his mind, but I noticed how deep inside my guts he lodged his cock, and how impossibly hard it was, throbbing as John got just a few feet away from us, as handsome as ever, filling in his green flannel shirt nicely, and my hole began pulsating, slowly at first, then faster and faster, almost as fast as my heartbeats, squeezing Bastien's dick as if trying to milk it, hungrier for cock than ever.

I was half sheer fright, half uncontrollable horniness.

But a hundred percent submissive fuck hole.

And when John finally reached us, as I thought he was going to have me fired, or worse, my boss just put his hand on my head and began petting me like one of his dogs, smiled at Bastien and said, flatly, "What's the matter? Keep fucking him."

The Canadian laughed, and went back to screwing me even more excited than before.

I was still bent forward, hugging the tree for balance, and so had my head at about John's belt buckle's height. He looked down at me as I was rocked back and forth by Bastien's thrusts, arched his eyebrows in a disappointed, slightly annoyed way, and pushed my head toward his pants. That fucking gorgeous blond hunk.

I instinctively began sniffing his crotch as he began talking to me.

"I can't believe one of my boys was a fucking cum dump all along," he told me, a frown still on his face. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me, you idiot? Do you know how many guys here haven't had a hole to fuck for weeks now? Do you?" he insisted, now slapping my face lightly, as if trying to catch my attention, but I was lost in the sweet, manly smell of his sweat, and couldn't hear him well as he pressed my head against his hardening member.

"You selfish motherfucker," he continued, now grabbing the back of my head and humping it. "My life would've been so fucking easier if you'd just told me the guys had a hole to release some stress all this time."

John's deep voice made me shudder with its serious, angry tone as he now began undoing his pants, revealing a fully erect, very veiny dick, whose girth and length I had only some split seconds to admire before he began smacking my face with it, grabbing it by its bushy, blond base and swinging it like a club against me.

"I'm so sorry, John," I tried to say, but my words were barely comprehensible as Bastien's dicking kept me almost out of breath, and the young foreman just kept reproaching me for keeping secret the fact that my ass was up for grabs, his dick getting harder the more the belittled me.

It wasn't long before it began leaking precum, which he was smearing all across my face as he used his cock to slap me.

I realized I was probably going to have to work very hard to regain his favor.

Then John held me by my chin, forcing me to look up at his blue eyes, his rock hard cock now resting against my lips, and I instinctively began kissing it, trying to show the foreman how sorry I was, and how much I respected him. Bastien laughed. He was enjoying this game.

They had me reduced to a little bitch begging to be forgiven. To be forgiven and fucked. John looked at me disappointed, almost as if too tired to keep explaining how much I had fucked up.

"Just suck me already," he said out of patience, "I'll have the boys teach you a lesson later."

And the Canuck stopped fucking me for a few seconds, so that I could let go of the tree and hug John's thick, muscular thighs instead, but began ramming my ass again as soon as he made sure I wasn't going to fall.