Molly and the Woodcutter

Molly Ramirez O'Reilly heard the old chevy pickup long before she saw it. She knew it was Deke's truck from the way the muffler roared and popped. Funny, her brother didn't never give Deke a ticket for that noisy, smoky engine. But then Deke and John was gettin' to be buddies. But John and Deke hadn't never asked her to go along when they went out, even though Deke lived on tother side of the fence. And Molly was gettin' mighty tired of not meetin' him face to face; specially as she knew him so damn well otherwise. And here she was, gonna do it again.

Course, she shoulda stayed in the house, certainly in the yard. Such a hot day. Even jest sittin' on the porch...waitin', she was gettin' so hot. She was hardly movin' and she was all sweaty under her titties. She was wearin' almost nothin', a pair of cotton drawstring shorts. A denim shirt with the tails knotted above her belly button. Bare feet, for pity's sake. Still hot.

But now his pickup was headin' up the road to his cabin. And she knew what he did afternoons like this. Because he had to. Because his cabin was heated by wood. Because the maple syrup evaporator was heated by wood. Come next Spring he would need all that wood and maybe buy some more offa them. Lotta choppin' to do. But then he most always did somethin' else whenever he finished choppin'. She wanted to see that. Had to.

How had she come to this? She was a good girl. She even went to church without anybody askin'. Oh, she like to party as much as the next girl. But her idea of party was to go out to the barn dance and do some contra. Didn't nobody walk her home, except Andrew that one time. And he was more shy than she was; so he kinda went scootin' off the minute he got to her mailbox. She could tell he was thinkin' about kissin' her. But the more he thought about it, the more nervous he got, until finally he jest took off a runnin.'

So this thing with Deke was bad. Well, it wasn't like she and him was really doin' anythin'. But she guessed Pastor Dean, up to the First Baptist, would call it a sin anyways. And she prayed on it. But that just made her think about it. And if she prayed on it before she went to bed, well, that was a mistake, because then she had Deke right there up in her head when she got under the sheets. And she was seein' his back, and those thick arms as they brought the axe down on an innocent little piece a wood.

She shivered, even though she was so hot.

She could tell herself to stop it. She could. Only she wouldn't, cuz....

She should do somethin' else, really, somethin' busy like peelin' potatoes or scrubbin' the kitchen floor on her hands and knees. But it almost didn't never. Once she was thinkin' about Deke, she was done. Cause it was like her body was doin' all the thinkin' for her. And once she started to feel it there, well, it was like corn likker (which she only tried that once, but oh...). The feelin' just moved out her legs and then her arms, and she could feel it all tight up in her chest; and her nips got so tight she had to pinch 'em. And her face she could tell was gettin' red the way it did; like somebody was rubbin' strawberry juice up her cheeks all up in the freckles; and her neck was gettin' hot and red. Goodness. Thinkin' about it, she could hardly breathe.

She had to go to her hidden place. And see him. Do. It.

She grabbed a water bottle and went.

She could of gone right along the fence; but then he might a seen her from his kitchen window, and she didn't want that. So she went around the back of the woodlot like she did, past the little frog pond with them magical dragonflies. She coulda just hung out there forever watchin' them; but she had to get to her place before he started choppin'. So she hurried on through the woods, even though it meant sometimes she got scratches from the brambles on her legs. But later, when she was rememberin' in her bed, she could feel 'em and it made it ...closer, and excitin' all over again.

They was two woodpiles; the new one where Deke was puttin' the wood he just cut; and the old one a little farther away. And she had found, or made herself a little niche, just backa the wood, with a coupla gunny sacks under her bottom and against the old pine there. She just had to make sure not to lean back and get the pitch off the bark in her hair. One time she did that and the only way to do was to cut a chunka hair off. But it was a good spot otherwise, because she had the old stump to sit on and she was invisible in the shadows behind the dogwood tree.

So sometimes she got to look at him kinda framed by pretty flowers.

She was only a little outta breath when she settled in on her stump; and sure enough, in a little bit, here comes Deke wearin' nothin' but those grey gym shorts. She knows he's some kinda fool to be choppin' wood dressed like this, because all too easy a chip can fly loose and nick you good. An' this even happened a time or two. And there was this scratch just oozin' on Deke's belly; an' she had to keep herself planted, because she so wanted to jump up and help some, mebbe splash some from her water bottle or rub it off a little with the hem of her blouse, or.... Molly shivered, watchin' Deke as he rubbed the whetstone on the gleamin' edge of his axe. No. What she really wanted to do was to press her hot mouth to that wound and taste Deke's leakin' blood. To seal it with her kiss.

Damn! It was happenin' already. Without him doin' nothin','cept sharpen his axe. She was gettin' wet. What to do?

Deke got a log and put it on the choppin' block. Now he coulda done it the right way with a hammer and a wedge. Lotta ways that was quicker and easier. Split the log neat. Split it again tother way. But she could tell Deke liked the action of choppin'. You could see it in his face that he got real satisfaction outta liftin' the axe high over his head and bringin' it down neat on the wood. Best stroke was to split in one hit. But sometimes it took two, or three.

And those were the moments Molly loved; watchin' that broad tanned back stretch upward, the axe swingin' over his shoulder and comin' straight down with a solid 'whack' on the wood. She loved to watch the man's hands on the axe handle; thumbs crossed as he brought it down. And she could tell that he put his whole body into the stroke; from his heels inside the old, loose hikin' boots, up over the bulgin' calves and thighs, tightenin' the hard cakes of his butt; that low, slick triangle just above his pants band and ripplin' up his back into his shoulders and neck.

His face was a study; eyes all focused on the wood, lips loose, soft curls floppin' onto his forehead.

Molly was losin' it as she always did; feet propped up on the back of the woodpile; knees spreadin'. She kind of pretended she didn't know her left palm was beginnin' to crush against her chest; her right hand fingertips slidin' under the loose waistband of her shorts. This was almost enough. If she wanted to, she could take herself over just watchin' him chop. But it was better to hope for the better later. When he laid down his axe after a good batch of wood was stacked up on the new cord.

Now he stopped. Now he took a swill from an old jug. She didn't know if it was water or moonshine; but she always drank when he drank; imaginin' him handin' her his jug and watchin' her as she took a big gulp. Watchin' her throat as the liquid flowed down....

Here's where he dropped his pants. She leaned forward on her secret seat, hopin' her view wouldn't be blocked by the stacked wood. Her foot knock a ol' piece a wood an' it fell and he turned; but just then a squirrel ran across the pile and jumped into the dogwood. Close call. What would he do if he knowed she was lurkin' there, watchin'...watchin'....

He finished takin' off the pants and hung them on a rusty nail on the smoke shed.

Now, when he had them shorts on she could tell he was 'well gifted.' The critter in there bounced and swung around as he moved and her fingers itched to squeeze that bundle. But once the cloth was gone she could see what had been churnin' that fabric. The boy was built. And that was without gettin' the thing excited. A long, ruddy rod with a fat mushroom head swayed below tight, dark curls that matched his hair. But he never just left the thing alone.

Molly's right hand had found the magic spot she loved best: Her thumb on top of her button and just below that her finger was slidin' on her slick little lip. She liked to git somethin' magic goin' with her finger and thumb squeezin' and twirlin' her bud between them. Sometimes she could take herself up just ticklin' and ticklin' this baby until it started to leak. Ring finger was right at the mouth of her V. Sometimes, not always, she stretched way in an' kinda churned and churned hard until that warm lettin' go thing happened... and sometimes, sometimes when she just needed to she just pushed her pinky.... Wait.

Where did he go? Other times he just sorta stood there, spit in his hand, and jerked that thing until it got thick, and in a little while; when his face as all red, and he was gruntin' somethin' fierce, all that stuff came out and spilled into the woodchips. Oh, she wanted that. As he started gettin' to the point where she knew he was gonna let go she let herself pretend it was comin' right at her, comin' right in her as it spurted and spurted. Sometimes, if she was lucky, she got it just the same time as him; an' she had to bite her lip not to cry out; tiltin' up and lettin' go some of her own juice.

Most times she took longer than he did. It was good, to sit in her little nook after he was done an' gone in the house; all warmed up from watchin' him. Slowly build up the feelin' till she shook all over, finished. Sometimes she had to push her shorts aside and let the stuff sprinkle on the old wood. Then, after she caught her breath, and could see the lights in his kitchen, she headed home, the frogs real loud in the pond and the katydids yammerin'.

But where did he go? Did he figure this time he didn't need to...? What...?

There was noise just on tother side of her wood pile, and then, what do you know, there he is, right under the dogwood, not four feet from her. His pants is off and that serious pecker is in his hand larger than life,... the whole business just drippin' with some kinda oil or grease he has in that big hand. And he's just whackin' that monster. The noise of it. All slick and slurpin' like an old-time butter churn. He's takin' his time now. Stretchin' the thing all the way out. Fondlin' the knob. Slidin' back on it; and all the time pointin' right at her. And his breath startin' to come in hard.

And then he was talkin', "Is this what you want? Is it? Here it is, girl. I'm ready to give it to you. I'm ready to shove it into you deep. Do you want that? Do you want all of this cock deep inside you. I can churn you, girl. I can stir you up till you turn to butter. Are you ready for it? Do you really want it? I so want to fill you up."

Molly was gettin' light-headed. She was tryin' not to make noise, but it was so hard. All her fingers was movin' somethin' fierce. She was so high up there, jest needin' to push her business toward him. She should stop. She should curl up and hide.

Wait. What? Where did he go? One second he was about to let it loose right at her, and the next.... Her puss was so wet and achin', and now....

Help!

Suddenly she felt herself lifted up. Then she was bein' carried high in the air into the yard and plumped down on the choppin' block. Deke is standin' stark nekkid in front of her, breathin' hard. His eyes are on fire.

"I knew it!" He yelled, pullin' his thick hair. "I knew it. I thought maybe I was crazy, or just an old horn dog, thinkin' a hot woman was hidin' in the bushes watchin' me. Thinkin' the squirrels was makin' those rustles and squeaks. Bit I knew it. I could feel it. Damn, woman! You was right there. How many times? I bet a lotta times. Watchin' me. Chop wood. Yank my pecker. I mean, who would do that? But damn! Here you are. And I saw where your hands was. And I see your eyes shinin'. Damn, woman. I think you want to fuck me"

He was silent, waitin', starin' into her face, his eyes all question. And the thing is; he coulda just bent her over the woodpile and jammed it in from behind an' took all he wanted without even askin'. But here he was, waitin', askin' her what she wanted. An' the funny thing was that at that moment she just wanted him to fuck her silly. Not wait on ceremony or anything. Jest take her ass right then and there.

But here he was, an' here she was . He was all shook up. Kinda pacin' this way and that. Which was kinda funny, 'cause his pecker was mostly stiff and bouncin' in front of her. Some of the heat had cooled between her legs, but not all. And then she copped to where she was. Should she be scared? But he didn't look mad, he looked...hungry.

And he was...big, not just there, but everywhere. Those legs! Those arms! That neck!

Molly's belly was churnin'; but she was remarkably calm. But she couldn't talk.

Her mouth was open. Like she wanted his cock in it. She was mesmerized by his it swingin' and swingin' in front of her. She wanted to hold it in her hands. She wanted it in her mouth. To feel that big ruddy head with her tongue.

Finally he couldn't stand it no longer.

He grabbed her by her wrists and tugged her upward until she was off the ground. She was standing on the choppin' block. With one hand he jerked her shorts to the ground. Her blouse flew over her head. She was up there and nekkid like one of them statues in a museum.

Molly looked him straight in the eyes. She was petite, but she had her mom's Mexican hips. She was so wet stuff was makin' a snail trail down her leg. She could feel the breeze on it.

He was lookin' her up an' down like she was the biggest piece a candy he ever saw. His rod was in his hand an' he was strokin' it again, and it got even bigger and so stiff, pointin' almost straight up.

An' then, Bam!

He reached around her and grabbed her ass and the slid those big hands down until he had a good hold on each of her thighs, one in each huge hand, spreadin' them apart as he lifted her right up. An' he clapped her slick pussy right hard against his chest then slid her straight down his sweaty belly. And damned if that stiff pecker of his wasn't waitin' in just the right spot so the head of the thing slid right up against where it could do some good. An' even though she had never ever had a man in there, she was so hot and wet.... An' he was lowerin' her right down onto it; so that fat head was pushin' up and her slick parts was just comin' down all heavy on it; an' she couldn't help but wiggle some, an' that sorta stretched her apart around there; so that big ol' thing was stretchin' her more and more apart....

"Oh, lord!" Molly was makin' animal noises because it was achin' somethin' fierce as that big head pushed her apart; but all the same she was so fuckin' hungry. She squirmed around and' that big head was jest pushin' an' shovin' against all her tender bits. An' she wanted just that because it was liftin' her spirit higher and higher. So much better than rubbin' on her hand or scrubbin' on her pillow. She had never felt nothin' like this in her whole life. Her titties was rubbin' against the fur on Deke's chest and getting totally stiff. Her hands was grabbin' his hard shoulders for dear life. Her mouth was buried in his neck, soakin' up his animal scent.

An' then...she could feel her pussy kinda take a deep breath; an' now it was stretchin' wider; an' she could feel the knob workin' into her hollow; an' she could help by ridin' on it...

An' BANG, it was in! Jest held there by her tightness.

An' that was good for a while.

"Lord, Deke. I'm so full. Jest hold it like that a minute. Yes, yes, jest hold it."

An' that's what he did. His hand clapped hard on her ass, jest holdin' her in that perfect place. But it couldn't last, because neither of them wanted it to. In her mind's eye she was seein' all the time he was whackin' off right at her, an' she was tilted up an' just hungerin' for it to be in her and just reamin' her out. And now...now here he was doin' his damndest not to go deep. An' now she needed it, achin' for it. So she told him:

"Get in." She said it right in his ear. An' she bounced a little to make her point. And sure as shootin' he slid right in deeper. An' she never felt so filled up in her life. Not even a turkey dinner made her feel this stuffed. An' she rode him right down until that fat thing kinda hit bottom in her. An' then she could feel his hands grip tight on her ass and slowly begin to lift her up until the head was tuggin' against her tight to get out. An' the ripples caused by this was magnificent. She could feel herself losin' her head.

This was what she was born for; her cheek crushed up against Deke's slick chest; her heels clamped against his hard butt; her nips scrubbin' on his belly.

"Jest...oh...please...yeah...jest...like...like...mmmmm...aaaaaa." She didn't need words.

And Deke was growlin' now, jest usin' her on his rod. And the sounds was so wonderfully disgustin'; like the pigs when they was deep in the trough an' the mash was so wet, an' their mouths was jest suckin' and gruntin'. She couldn't get her own mouth closed, it was so full of the feelin' she had down there.

An' then she could feel him gettin' ready. It was buildin' up, an' dammit he was swellin'; but she was so wet now that he slid all the way in so easy. But he was beginnin' that croon he did when he was about to shoot; and she knew she should tell him to pull out right now. Dammit, she should lift herself up and slide off and let him finish off the way he usually did; or maybe even drop her to the stump, yeah, and shove that thing all covered with her own pussy wet, in her own mouth and just unload all that cream he had in those big balls. She could do that. That would be strong. How long had she wanted his spunk on her tongue and all over her face and drippin' off her titties.

But no...no...no...it was too late. She wanted it to be too late; even when he said right in her ear, "I'm cummin', hon and I ain't got no sheath on. Oh Molly, I should pull out now."

An' she grabbed him by the neck and looked him square in the face as she said, "No!. No, Deke McDougal. Don't you dare. You give me that, y'hear? I want it Deke. I want all that spunk up in me. Flood me, Deke. Jam way up there and let loose. I want you to make a baby in me. I want it, Deke. I want your baby, even if you don't never want me. But, dammit Deke, I want to do this till I swell up. Okay?"

He could only nod okay because as she talked she had been riding him; jammin' down on that huge cock an' grindin' at the bottom, then liftin' up and jammin' down agin. It was so wet and noisy, disgustin' in a beautiful way. No talkin' now. They was in it.

An' then she saw his face turn red and his jaw git all tight, and then his mouth hung open, an he was makin' noises like some ol' bull ready to charge. Tight little noises comin' from his belly. He pushed her back; holdin' her away from him, his mouth open wide, his eyes up in his head, as the short strokes jest took him over.