Date: Fri, 3 Mar 2017 15:07:34 -0500 From: Bear Pup Subject: Babe in the Woods 2 Please see original story (www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/rural/babe-in-the-woods/) for warnings and copyright. Highlights: All fiction. All rights reserved. Includes sex between adult men. Go away if any of that is against your local rules. Practice safer sex than my characters. Write if you like, but flamers end up in the nasty bits of future stories. Donate to Nifty **TODAY** at donate.nifty.org/donate.html to keep the cum coming. ***** Zeke realised that Babe was literally holding him up as he came back into himself. His legs shook beyond their ability to support a kitten, much less a full-grown man. Zeke was weeping, pouring tears of pleasure and release. Throughout, Babe licked and cleaned and crooned that soft, deep, rich toneless melody he used to calm and settle people in need. Zeke's blissful contentment evaporated like mist when he looked up and saw Jez's face in the door, hawk-eyes watching, face a solid and emotionless mask. She turned and went back into the kitchen as Babe gently reassembled Zeke's cloths, petting and patting and soothing as he did so. ***** Babe in the Woods 2: Zeke & Jez Part II By Bear Pup M/M; anal -- brief M/F Zeke was mortified, nearly paralysed with terror, at what would happen over dinner. Babe went in first and by the time Zeke tremulously went through the door, Jez was watching the gentle giant plate the rabbit fricassee over the thick grits, hands not even seeming to feel the heat of the pans. He also went to the sideboard and pulled the biscuits from breakfast; lord only knew how he could tell what was there. He made sure that both husband and wife had a knife and spoon apiece. A salt cellar and a peppermill made their appearance and Babe just sat down and looked at the two. Smiling. Humming. Jez longed to light into Zeke but every time she thought of the right remark, the gentle giant would dish her a little more rabbit, a dollop of grits, or pass behind her and pat her shoulder. The meal was silent, but the tension was still high. When Zeke finished, he moved to the hearth and began to whittle absently on a block. Jez rose to clear and Babe was already taking the dishes out of her hands. He set them to soak and then sat down to his own meal, making it very clear that her assistance was not required. Stymied and still vaguely fuming, she moved to her sewing. Zeke had ripped and goldarned shirt she needed to mend, and it would be right in the weft where mending was hardest. Babe got up and went over the Zeke. He leant down and looked a long time at the wood, then deep into Zeke's worried eyes. "Bird." He said finally. "A Jez bird." Zeke was rocked. When they'd been courting, he had always whispered "You're my little bird, Jezebel, my beautiful little bird." Zeke looked at the wood and suddenly could see the bird trapped inside and began to remove those splinters that were not part of the bird he saw. When Jez looked up, the kitchen was likely cleaner and neater than it had been in months, years even. Babe walked up and held out his hand. For reasons she never really understood, she took it. Babe gently drew her to her feet and led her to the bower-seat under the honeysuckle. He just sat with her, hand on her arm, humming. She tensed when his hand went across her shoulder, but his gentle strength was a tonic. She felt tension flow from her and within minutes she was sighing, then without warning crying against the humming, crooning chest of this unknown and simple man. Babe petted and soothed her heartbroken sobs. She pushed him away, or tried, but his loving arms were immensely strong and thick with muscle. Finally the tears faded, as did his crooning song, and Jez found herself compelled to fill the silence. Her tryst long before marriage with a farmhand many years her senior, allowing him to strip her of her virtue just to assuage her loneliness. Her knowledge that this tainted their marriage from the start. That if -- when -- Zeke found out how he would despise and reject her. How much she longed, thirsted to love him fully, but knew the only way to stay safe was to keep him at a distance so that he could never know, never see it in her eyes. Her fear for him, the dangers he faced every day to keep her in comfort, a comfort she knew she had never deserved. Her fear of failing him, of pushing him to another woman, of failing to bring him strong children. Of being... a woman. It flowed out like a river, draining a lake of self-hatred in minutes. Somehow, this touched and half-witted child-man drained her of it, and she began to see the pattern. The tryst was not the poison to their marriage, but her guilt over it was. Her shame of loving, craving Zeke's touch had driven her to deny exactly what they both needed so deeply. She felt a rush of that same guilt as she realised that this child-man was erect and rocking her against himself. She wondered for only a moment, though. Lost in a dream, she reached down and undid his pants, freeing his manhood. It was nothing compared to her husband's endowment (and she blushed furiously at the thought) or even of that long-ago farmhand. Perhaps four inches erected to rock-hardness, the tip of the head barely emerged from the skin. She gasped, though, when her hand probed further and encountered the enormous bollocks that hung below it. She turned and straddled him, allowing that tiny worm to enter her. One of his huge hands found her most-secret place and rubbed the tiny knot of flesh making her moan with need. The other hand unerringly found her other secret, one the farmhand had somehow stumbled upon. The place that he and he alone had touched since she was a babe, the twitchily-hungry lips of her bottom-hole. The penis stroked her, but was nearly unrecognised as his crooning resumed as a deep and masculine growl in a tempo that drove her wild. He threw herself into the act as front and back, his giant, furred hands made her want to scream in need. Her body quaked as her orgasm took her, and Babe never changed. She tried to move but the pleasure was too great and another then another orgasm shook her body like that of a doll. Jez was crying now, crying in fulfilment and ecstasy. That contemptable farmhand -- the man who'd seduced her loneliness more than her desire in his despicable plunder of her virginity -- was washed away; he had never come close to bringing this heavenly joy. And the giant's thrumming purrs and growls, a rhythm of primordial passion, kept pounding within her very soul. She finally did scream, head back and utterly consumed. She had no idea if the virile but childlike man came to completion, but he didn't seem to care. Babe lifted her form like a feather and moved to the wash-bucket, cleaning her of all traces of their lovemaking. Even that only slightly lifted the spell of her sex-drunk stupor. He moved into the house, unerringly negotiating the rickety stairs to the loft. She felt herself laid carefully and delicately in the marriage bed, and Babe's massive hands deftly tucking the blankets around her. She was blissfully asleep before Babe quietly left the loft. He found Zeke weeping inconsolably at the window beside the hearth, a tiny, beautiful bird of wood gripped in his hands. Babe pulled it from his grasp and Zeke flew at him, taking out his pain and betrayal and horror and grief at the child-man who had just given what his wife would never let him deliver -- love and passion. The window looked out directly upon the bower. Babe trapped his arms and lifted him, without apparent effort regardless of Zeke's cries and struggles and punches and kicks. Spent, Zeke just wept for what he'd lost; not what Babe had taken from him, but what he, Zeke, had failed to be man enough to keep. Babe curled the man up like a sleepy little boy and carried him to the barn loft. It was impossible for the simpleton to know that this is where he spent most nights, unwelcome in his marriage bed and unwilling (or unmanly enough) to find out why. Babe created a nest of straw and covered it with a couple of blankets, with another as a cover. He undressed the unresisting Zeke, not even stopping at his drawers, and stripped himself as well. Zeke marvelled at the man-mountain. Chest, arms, whole body below the neck, furred as heavily as any bear, but with a soft auburn hair that he longed to touch. Massive chest, huge arms, trees for legs, muscles upon muscles with a layer of babyish fat. But what those legs framed astonished him. Through the hearth-window, he'd seen his beloved wife ride this boy-man like a stallion, but what hung there seemed more at home on a young child... until you saw the mammoth balls hanging low, thick and pendulous below. Zeke could not help but think, if that tiny worm had given Jez such exultant pleasure, what could his own quite-large endowment do? Babe nestled Zeke into place against the barn-side, then laid in front of him and drew the man's arms around his massive chest. Zeke sighed in physical comfort and emotional torment. Had he lost Jez? Had his greatest fear, that she'd found a lover worthy of her, come true? He jumped as Babe snuggled back, and he felt his manhood thickening in the gentle giant's soft, warm, furry cleft. Zeke prayed and wished and demanded that his cock stop this nonsense, but Babe had begun a deep, purring umble-rumble that screamed of sexual secrets unknown. Babe began to gently rock back, setting a lust-drenched rhythm with his growling song, opening his cheeks to Zeke's invader, then slowly hunching forward, caressing and pulling Zeke deeper and deeper. No prayer or wish had a chance now. Babe reached back and guided the dripping head of Zeke's big dick to the giant's soft, pliable and inexplicably slick rear entrance. Zeke hollered as he felt himself engulfed. He'd had sex; all farmboys had. If not with a girlfriend, then with a whore hired by friends of cousins or (in Zeke's case) an indulgent uncle for a coming-of-age present. In fact, he'd fucked nearly a dozen women, not all of them whores, but nothing, nothing compared to the velvet warmth and tight, stroking muscles deep within Babe. Zeke became increasingly vocal and increasingly masterful as he plundered the ass that was now below him; he'd rolled Babe forward and kicked his legs apart to plunge ever-deeper into the intoxicating and unbelievable aperture to heaven itself. Babe worked muscles that no mortal man should have deep within him to squeeze, caresses, tease and possess Zeke's raging-hard cock. Zeke felt like a sexual GOD, but knew that Babe's ass was playing him like a banjo; bringing him to the very brink of string-breaking rapture then back to the gentle, torturous strumming of a hymn. Over and over, Zeke approached but was subtly denied release, until he was berating, cursing, begging and cajoling this massive and purring sexual animal. With a sudden squeeze and clamping pressure, Babe trapped Zeke at the very depths of his most-forceful plunge and held him, unable to move, as something deep inside frigged and stroked and seemed to lick his engorged manhood. Like a rutting bull, Zeke bellowed as his nuts pulled up deep into his own body, as if trying to speed his hillbilly-butter deep into this giant man. Every muscle tried in vain to drive deeper yet, and every one contracted and pumped in his transcendent release. Zeke collapsed, so much more than merely spent, and slept still deeply embedded in the ever-crooning giant. Babe's song changed to a lullaby, but never faded. Zeke woke once in the night, cock again rampant and he leisurely fucked the man again to a less-shattering but even more-blissful conclusion before finally drifting to sleep to dream of Jez bobbling their daughters on her knees whilst he ruffled the head of their growing son, father nearing to die of pride at how all four looked at him. For the first time since his own childhood, Zeke found himself at peace in that dream, and would remember it for decades to come. Author's note: Please let me know your thoughts. Good or bad, what did you like or hate? orson.cadell@gmail.com ***** Active storelines, all at www.nifty.org/nifty/gay... 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