Out in the Woods: Greg's Story

**All characters and adult situations are between consenting legal aged adults (18 years +)**

Greg Pearson blinked the sweat that dripped into his eye as the head of his axe made solid contact with the block of wood. Salt filled droplets dislodged from his eyebrows and forehead with the swing of the axe and they'd fallen in, blurring his vision. The forest about him diminished little of the sun's heat and he'd long since shed his shirt in attempt to lessen the swelter. He paused to wipe his eyes and pull the bandanna from his back pocket. He'd brought it for just this occasion. In the humid weather sweat did little but to aggravate him, failing in the role of a cooling mechanism. It poured down his chest, soaking the waist of his denim jeans. Gently rolling the bandanna into a strip and tying it about his head, he picked up the newly chopped piece of wood. The material began to absorb the droplets on his forehead and he blinked to adjust his vision.

The high for today had been 94, but the dense humidity caused the air to feel imperiously heavy and hot. Flowing trails of sweat coated his entire body. Greg's well-defined shoulders, broad and muscled from years of manual labor sported above a smooth chest that shown his core muscles when he swung the axe in an arcing force upon tree or block. Greg's strong arms were accustomed to lifting and splitting timber and there was no part of his body sagging with fat.

He rested the long handled axe against a nearby tree and looked around. This was his own land; undeveloped, untouched. The scent of the woods was invigorating, despite the oppressive heat, he felt vitalized to be in such a remote and peaceful place. Miles away from the sounds of the highway or city, he worked to slowly clear the area he planned to call home. Still, it felt unusually warm, even for June, and the heat was tiring him with each swing of his axe.

He was 33, and had worked at G.C. Lumber since he was 17. He'd finally saved the amount he needed to purchase the plot with very little left for financing. Purchasing the land had been the easy part. The job now was in developing and clearing the densely forested plot, transforming it into a useable and unique homestead that Greg had envisioned for almost a decade. He lived in a trailer on the edge of his forested property and it took about a half hour to hike back. It would take another month or so of weekends to clear enough trees to drive his old truck to the spot where he stood. While he used his chain saw to fell the trees, he found that manually chopping and stacking the wood was gratifying.

He undid the straps of his work gloves and pulled them free, flexing his fingers and hands and feeling the air, warm though it was, cooler than the warm soaked gloves. He crossed the clearing to a container of water set on a stump, feeling his denim jeans pull against his thighs. He should have taken more water, knowing he would be out once this last bit was drunk. As he stooped to pick up the water, he paused. The feeling was back. He'd felt, not for the first time, that he was being watched.

The disconcerting feeling had actually been going on for about three weeks, sometimes in the evening, but always on the weekends. It was Sunday. He'd felt the eyes on him yesterday and had spent about an hour trying to figure out from where the feeling was coming. When the feeling had ceased, he had walked around the clearing in an attempt to see any sign of an intrusive presence on his land. He'd found a spot where someone had been sitting or kneeling on the ground near one of the large oaks. The grass was flattened and light prints, resembling sandal tracks, led away from the spot off toward the small stream of water that divided his land. The stream was only about four feet across reaching a depth of about nineteen inches. The water was clean and clear and flowed from a natural spring. Greg drank from it often enjoying the cool water that the earth kept pleasant, even in the hot summer. The water was slightly cooler than the air and, upon failing to locate further tracks, knelt near the spring for a handful.

Greg let the water trickle down his face as he drank from the container. He knew now where the eyes were hiding. He didn't look at the spot, not wanting to give himself away. He glanced about, searching for the easiest way to get to the intruder's hiding place and of a possible cutoff if they ran. Aside from his axe and chainsaw, he only kept a knife on his belt. If this trespasser had a weapon, he wasn't quite sure if a four inch blade would do the trick. It was unlikely that they meant any harm, as they had been watching him for nigh on 3 weeks. The fact remained, however, that they were trespassing on his property. He stood there with the water, his defined six pack displayed below his toned pecs, skin glistening in light of the woods. A thick head of rich brown hair of about two inches was spiked with sweat and his face sported a shadow of about three days. He let his hand holding the water sink to waist level near the button of his denim jeans. A thin trail of dark hair trailed from his toned stomach to below his belt line. He didn't take kindly to people snooping around his land.

At 212 pounds and 6'2", Greg's healthy masculine body turned a few heads, but if approached, they seemed to find little interest in him as a person. While that had provided some decent one-night stands, it hadn't carried on into something serious. Small towns could sometimes be a curse when it came to meeting new people. He was unsure of just who would want to date him at his age.

He listened intently to the surrounding sounds in the forest. The light rustle of the breeze and few birds were the only sounds coming to his ears. They were careful. He obviously wasn't meant to see them, but the feeling had prompted him to search the area for signs of an intruder. He edged slowly and as nonchalantly as he could, putting the oak between himself and the watcher. Once he was certain he'd removed himself from view he started moving toward the spot he'd found the day before. He sprinted forward, straight in the direction of the tree. He pulled up just in time to see a feminine body racing away toward the spring. He slipped on a patch of tall grass and almost fell flat on his face. Scrambling to pursue his quarry, Greg dashed after the fleeting form. He could see that it was a slender girl in her late teens, she was wearing frayed denim short shorts, a plaid color tank top, and tennis shoes. Dark auburn hair fluttered behind her as she ran, her lean tanned legs sprinting her away from her pursuer.

She was fit, and he was tired. He knew he wouldn't catch her as he watched her run. As she reached the stream she lost her foot and slipped, falling into the flowing water. It was enough for him to close the distance. He leapt into the stream, the water sloshing around his boots as he blocked her escape. What he'd taken to be a tank top was actually a long sleeve plaid shirt with rolled up sleeves, tied in the front so that it hung open revealing a white sports bra. She tried to slip around him but he caught her arm and gripped tightly as she bolted, swinging her around in the process.

He came face to face with a sopping wet teenager that he thought he recognized. As her crimson face glared at him, he placed her. Sarah Logan. He'd known her since she was twelve and her father had come looking for work at the lumber yard. She'd tagged along with her father on a number of occasions and Greg hadn't failed to notice the way she'd developed over the last six years. As first he'd thought it was his imagination, but he noticed that she often seemed to look away when he saw her, as if she'd been staring at him. He'd blown off the notion until her father had invited him and several of the other guys to his home for barbeque and bear. She'd seemingly made any excuse to be near him and had seemed to tease him by bending over enough to see down her shirt, or keeping ahold of a bear bottle as she collected them, and making the gesture almost seductive. The next day he had been told by her father that Sarah had a crush on him. He'd felt more than a bit awkward and had done his best not to encourage her. He didn't need a 16 year old trying to get his attention.

He'd made a point to avoid her for the past two years and had only gone to her 18th birthday party at the invitation of her father. He'd still kept his distance. She was a beautiful girl that had blossomed into a beautiful woman. She was about 5' 8" and looked to be about 120 lbs. She was fit, but not too skinny, her bust was a full C cup and she had small hips that attached to gracefully long legs. Her straight, dark auburn hair fell below her shoulders, which that night had been bare, showing an absence of tan lines. Sarah's face was a fine blend of a square jaw, with a pixie cute nose. But the feature that made him most nervous were her eyes. Green with brilliant color, they seemed to penetrate him and invite him in. He'd found it hard to break her gaze and felt his heart beat faster as those eyes drank him in. The looks she'd given him the night of her birthday party had made his blood quicken his jeans tight. When he'd caught her staring at him, he'd been unable to look away. She'd been eating a piece of pineapple, just intently watching him. When his eyes had locked on hers, it seemed to him that she deliberately licked her fingers slowly, and his groin had felt extremely confined. She'd looked away when her father had called her name and he'd left shortly thereafter to go back to his trailer and take a cold shower.

As he held her arm tightly in his hand she was glaring up at him with those piercing green eyes, he found himself unable to talk. He had never been this close to her. He could smell a sweet perfume that emanated from her and he was aware of her soaked undershirt that showed the outline of bare cleavage with punctuated dark points of pink flesh jutted against the fabric. It took less than a second for his mind to take in the exquisite allure of her body. He shook his head to clear those thoughts away and looked into her eyes.

He finally found his voice. "Why were trespassing on my land?" She glanced away, not looking at him. He brought his other hand to her chin and drew her back to face him. "Sarah." He said in a rebuking tone. "What were you doing here?" She looked up at him and glared again. He released her arm. "Why have you been watching me for the last two weeks?" She still didn't answer him and he took a breath of frustration. "Are you going to talk to me or to I have to haul your ass back to my trailer so you can explain this to your father?" He took hold of her arm again, about to pull her up when she lunged forward and he felt her kiss him hard on his rough mouth with intense passion. His body surged and he felt his being accept the obvious physical invitation, his body that had ached with the day's work suddenly pulsed with renewed vigor. He felt a wave in desire flash through him.

As his lips hungered for a deeper taste he felt reality snap back into his lust fogged mind. Greg broke the kiss and pulled himself back, panting with the effort. He couldn't help his gaze as it darted down the open plaid button up opening and looked at her heaving chest and sharp pointed nipples. He looked back to her eyes and saw a smoldering fury of hunger and longing. He shook his head. She was only eighteen.

He closed his eyes to steady himself. "You have any idea...what the...girl this is..." he couldn't seem to finish his sentence. He pressed his lips together and shook his head again. "You're going to explain why you're here, what you were doing and what the hell that was all about."

She cocked her head and looked at him in clear defiance. "Bite me."

Without conscious thought, he did. His rough face brushed her cheek as he gently bit her right ear. He felt her hands wrap around his neck, her body pulling up against his. Sarah began to kiss his neck and shoulder, sucking the skin in with each kiss, taking a small amount of pain then caressing her tongue against the heated flesh. His hands reached at her tight jeans and then moved up her tight buttocks, feeling under the wet material. His rough skin separated the wet fabric from her smooth tanned back, tracing her spine as he began to suck on her neck. He felt her breath ragged and shallow, the heat of their flowering passion warming the soaked clothes they would soon be shedding.

As he hoisted her out of the water and into his arms, his back protested, but his hunger for her ignored it. Sarah wrapped her legs around him and pulled her body close, the muscles in her legs drawing her torso up as he stood. He could smell her hair taste her skin and the thin layer of sweat from the summer heat. His tongue felt the pulsing veins as he nibbled and sucked on the nape of her neck, eliciting soft moans from her lips. He lifted them both free of the water and walked to the bank where soft shade grass grew thick. He bent forward with effort and laid her down on the soft bed of green.

Sarah's arms slipped from around his neck but her hands entwined in his hair as she pulled his head down to the white wet material covering her breasts. She felt his hand move from her back and reach for the neck line. She gasped as she heard the mater rip slightly as he tried to get it off. Her voice was ragged. "Just rip it!" He looked at her face and then at the shirt. With an nearly effortless motion his hands yanked either side of the shirt and it tore open, revealing her lineless tanned chest. She pulled his head again toward her left breast and gasped as his hot mouth encircled her wet cold nipple. He drew it into his mouth with a firm suction, running his tongue in darting circles around the sensitive pink flesh. His unshaven face bore into her supple flesh while his moist rough tongue ignited fire through her young frame. He felt her hands clench his hair with each caress. His 29 year old body raged like he was 21, heated by the feminine form beneath his working mouth. He closed his teeth around her stiff nipple and lifted off, scraping her pink flesh as he pulled away to work on her left breast with equal hunger.

He was briefly aware of Sarah's hands working below his bare chest as she sucked and grazed her nipple. Greg positioned his body so that he could pull one arm free. With his now freed hand he began to knead the right breast, never stopping his mouth's work on her left. She was panting and moaning, her hips bucking sporadically against his knees. Greg's mind seemed to be echoing a scream of warning. He knew better and he knew that nothing good could come from this. He hadn't been with a woman in months and he never really took to the idea of jerking off. His blood was boiling with long denied desire of secret lust for her. She wasn't a girl anymore, she was a woman, and she was demanding his aggression, his dominance, his primal appetite for her.

He felt Sarah's hands at his waste and felt his leather belt unfastened. He was getting far too carried away. What was he thinking? His hand squeezed her breast roughly and he sucked hard on the perky little nipple. Sarah groaned and her hips drove up against his leg. He felt the belt release and Sarah's hands were at the button on his jeans. He felt his zipper drawn down as the buttoned waist released. His briefs painfully restricted him as he felt her hand reach into the open jeans and rub his hard shaft through the white fabric. He groaned against her chest. Her touch was exploratory, feeling his masculine presence through the barrier of his briefs. Her finger traced his length to the growing wet patch at his tip. Greg felt like he might cum right there from the soft touch of her hands. He pulled back. And began to kiss his way between her breasts and then slowly start his way down her stomach. He licked and kissed the soft flesh of her stomach, feeling the rise and fall of her chest and breathing in the scent of her perfumed skin. He shifted his body lower, pulling his groin out of reach of her torturous touch. Greg kissed a tracing trail from the bone of one hip, along the waistband of her jeans up to the other, lingering for a moment above the button, just below her naval. He returned along the route until he reached the center and the darted his tongue under the waistband of her jeans, licking up to her naval as he gently pushed his tongue in and kissed the entrance.

Sarah's body jerked at the feeling of his tongue and her hands went to undo her the fastening, but he took them and pushed them away gently. Greg's rough hands unbuttoned the small waistband and eased down the zipper. His finger gripped the frayed edges of the short cutoffs and tugged downward. The shorts slid down slowly and his mouth kissed downward onto the fabric of her panties, following them towards her hot core.

Her pale pink panties, already wet from the water, clung to her body, showing the dark patch of hair and the slight outline of her lips. He kissed down to the opening of her sex and pressed his tongue against it, pushed the fabric in-between her lips. Sarah bucked upward, pushing his tongue in a little as she groaned. He raised his head up to look at her as he pulled the shorts free. He now noticed that the knot the held the plaid over shirt in place had been untied and her bare chest and stomach lay before him. It fleetingly occurred to him that she had no tan lines. His eyes took in her soft stomach, supple breasts, slender shoulders, soft face and expectant, blazing eyes. He involuntarily looked down the length of her body, taking in the enticing visage lain before him. He leaned forward, with a voice in the back of his mind screaming for him to get control on himself. As he hovered above her soaked panties, he breathed her in. A sweet perfume mingled with the unmistakable scent of her sexual desire. The scent of her excitement ignited in his body and drew him like a moth to an open flame. He bent his head to her naval and licked gently in slow deliberate circles. He hooked the band of her pale panties and began pulling them down her legs, his swirling tongue following them.

Greg reached the patch of auburn curls, trimmed but completely intact, nibbling around the adorning hair as her undergarments continued their decent. He kissed the crease of between hips and legs. With the absence of the wet material barrier the scent of her was stronger and his hunger grew. He wanted her, he wanted to lick her, to pull from her moans of ecstasy, he wanted to taste this gorgeous creature and make her syrup flow uncontrolled from her heated core. His nostrils flared as he kissed around the seeping lips of her sex. He wanted to draw it out, allow himself to calm. He knew if he took her now, he wouldn't last more than a single stroke before he released the pounding pressure behind his aching shaft.

Sarah lifted her legs toward her chest, letting him pull her undergarments free. She the set her feet flat on the ground, shoulder length apart. Greg Eased down and began to kiss the inside of her left thigh as he drew closer and closer to her aching sex. Her legs spread open for him as the rough bristles of his face scraped the smooth soft flesh of her inner thighs. She was trembling, anticipating the connection of his lips on hers. As he hovered above the slightly spread lips of her sex, his breath drove her mad with longing. He felt her hands run through his hair where they found a grip. She pulled his head down to meet her arching hips. His tongue extended, Greg placed his lips against Sarah's cunt. She gasped at the contact and ground herself up into his mouth, lightly penetrating her proffered pussy with his tongue. Greg groaned at the scent and taste of her. Sarah's sex was delightfully fresh, clean, and mouth wateringly enticing. The scent of her arousal inundated his body with renewed vitality, his fatigue dissolving in the physical demand to taste her and take her completely.