Date: Sun, 20 Mar 2011 11:25:53 EDT
From: Bobaroo2@aol.com
Subject: Polite Landscaper

Polite Landscaper
By Bobaroo2@aol.com

Thanks to exstasisursus for helping with this

I have a place in the country that I go to on the weekends.  Nothing grand,
a bungalow, and there are a few acres of land, most of it woods.  I had
been thinking of having some work done around the house, clearing out a few
trees, maybe putting on an addition.  So I called up one of the few
companies that had an ad in the local phone book - Olympus Landscaping.

The guy on the phone said, "well, we could come out today if you would
like."

"Yeah, that would be great," I replied.

"Ok, the guy'll be out in less than an hour," he said, then before I could
say anything he said, "Have a nice day."

"THE guy," I muttered to myself?  "I guess it's just to give an estimate."

More than two hours later I heard someone pulling into the driveway.  It
was not a flat bed truck, just a small pickup.  I was pissed off that
nothing is going to get done today, and that the guy is later than he
should be.  There's a knock on the door and I went to answer it.

My eyes must have widened at what I saw standing on the doorstep.  There
was a big, beefy man wearing a sleeveless flannel shirt.  The two top
buttons of the shirt were opened, and tufts of brown hair spread above them
to his clavicle.  The shirt was tightly stretched by his chest which jutted
out in front of him.  His arms were thick and muscular, with a covering of
the same brown hair along the bowling-pin forearms.  His lats were so wide
that they pushed his arms out somewhat to the side, so that they and the
sides of his shoulders were blocked from view by the door jamb. He was
wearing tight faded jeans that contained barrel-sized thighs.  He had thick
lips and prominent cheek bones, very handsome. He had a dense beard of
chestnut-colored hair that helped to complete the lumberjack look.  But it
didn't seem like an affectation - he was as close to Paul Bunyan as anyone
could get.  I pegged him as being about 35 years old or so.

"Morning," he said.

"Hi, good morning" I finally got out of my mouth, which seemed to have
gotten very dry.  " Hi, you must be Mr. Bob!"

"Yes, what's your name?"

"I'm Kenneth, with Olympus Landscaping. Sorry I'm a little late, there was
a problem on the road up here."

"Glad to see you.  Yeah, they said you'd be here an hour ago.  Are the
other guys delayed too?  What happened?"

"Nice to see you, also. I know, there was a problem down the road at that
dairy farm; their bull got over the fence and I got him back in for
them. No, I'll do this myself."

"Didn't they tell you I needed some trees removed, they're about 4 feet in
circumference.  And a boulder needs jackhammering and carting away."  Then
I responded to what he had said earlier, "By the way, you were able to coax
the bull back through the gate?"

"Oh, he was no problem. Once I had his horns in my hands he was able to be
led like a little pup. Yeah, I know what you need done."

"So he was really tame."

"Fairly, but still he's a bull."

"so are you," I said with a smile.

"Thank you," he replied, and his big smile showed the even white teeth that
he had.

"If that's all it took, why didn't the farmer just hold onto a horn and
lead the bull back?" I asked, curious now.

"Well, he was a little upset, I had to stop him, hold him, and sweet talk
him until he calmed down," Kenneth replied.

"Stop him?  you mean, he was trying to run away and you held him there?"  I
could tell I had a sceptical look on my face.

"He charged me and I stopped him."

"What?! You stopped a full grown bull?"

"Sure did, I was afraid he'd hurt himself!"

I decided to leave it at that, because I didn't want to have to basically
call him a liar.

"Let me show you the first tree," I said.

"Sure, let's go."

As I walked past him I got a better feel for just how massively thick he
was.  His shoulders were thick humps underneath his tight, checked shirt,
and his traps rose up from them to surround his bulky neck.

I walked over to an old oak that had a lot of dead limbs, and the bark
peeling away.

"This is going to fall on the house the next time there's a windstorm, it
needs to be chopped down," I said to him.

He nodded and said, "I got it, what else?"

"There's another tree over here that's dead, a big maple.  And then there's
this boulder here, I've been thinking of building an addition to expand the
house and it's in the way."

I looked at it and said, "It's 4 feet above the ground, who knows how deep
it goes."

He nodded again and said, "Okay, cool. Why don't you do whatever you need
to do, Mr. Bob, and I'll knock on the door when I'm done?"

A little puzzled by what else he would have to do to work up the estimate,
I turned and went to the shed where the tools are, because I was going to
do some planting.  I walked back across the yard, knelt down, and started
turning the earth with a trowel.  I saw Kenneth striding over to the oak
and getting into a crouch.  He wrapped his arms around its trunk.  "I guess
he's measuring it," I thought.

Suddenly I heard an animal growl come from him and I stood up from the hole
that I was digging. I saw him pull up his arms a little, and soil started
breaking up around the base of the tree.  I dropped the trowel where I
stood, amazed.

The branches of tree were shaking and what leaves were left were rustling
as if there were a strong wind.  Kenneth growled more deeply, turning to a
roar as his legs started to straighten.  Soil began tumbling and roots
started to break through the dirt.  "The tree must be at least 40 feet
tall!" I thought.  "How could it be so rotten inside that it's so light?"
I didn't want to believe what I knew must be happening.  Or rather, I
wanted to believe it, but couldn't. The huge root ball alone, which was now
fully exposed after a yank of his thick arms, must weigh a ton!

Kenneth shifted his hands, grunted, and then pressed the tree overhead in
one sudden jerk. I walked closer, mesmerized, feeling some of the dirt
clods from the enormous root mass dropping down on me.  Kenneth had his
back to me and he lowered the tree down, then pressed it up overhead again.
His traps now completely engulfed his bull neck and his bare shoulders were
starting to show through the seams of his flannel shirt. He repeated the
presses 12 more times, until he let the tree drop to the ground with a
thud.  Then he slowly advanced towards the maple.

"Kenneth," I called out.

He turned to me slowly and said, "In a zone, Mr. Bob. Hold on."  Then he
turned back and continued his slow, ponderous walk towards the maple, with
me following behind, my heart thudding.

Kenneth squatted once again and started exhaling deep huffs of breath as he
reached his brawny arms around the base of the maple's trunk.
"Yeeeeaaaaah!" he bellowed as he stood up in one slow, deliberate move.
His thighs were shaking a little, but each one of them was stronger than
the tree that he was slowly ripping out of the ground.  Twigs and branches
broke off and hit him in the face, but he didn't flinch at all.  I was
standing in front of him this time, and I could see that his handsome face
was set in a look of deep concentration.

Again he slid the trunk along the mitts of his hands, and held it outright
in front of himself.  But rather than forcing it up, he slowly brought it
towards him.  "Shit, he's going to curl it," I said.

"Yes, Mr. Bob," he said, his voice deep, almost trancelike.

His biceps were bulging into peaked humps of muscle.  He wasn't
super-ripped, but I could see veins along the tops of the football-sized
peaks nonetheless.  Because of the trunk's width he couldn't flex his arms
entirely, but they were huge - they must have been bigger than my thighs.
He lowered the tree down slowly, then brought it upwards again.  He counted
in his deep bass, "...Seven..." There were thick tendons bulging in his
neck, and his shirt split open from the tops of the sleeves to his
shouders.  "...Eight..." he grunted out, and then when the tree was lowered
to his waist he let it slip from his hands, and it crashed to the ground.

"Such power," I murmured, staring at his arms which were now red and
engorged.

"Hang on, Mr. Bob; you're about to have your mind blown."

Kenneth turned and walked over to the boulder I had pointed out earlier.

"No," I said.  "It's not possible."

Kenneth continued walking, but he did a double bicep flex that I saw from
behind, as if to belie my doubts.  His pumped up biceps filled the space
between his delts and his Popeye forearms.  I could hear the ripping sound
that the seams of his shirt made as his lats spread while he did the pose.

Kenneth bent over and pressed on the top of the boulder, as if testing it
for weakness.  Then he started to pull it towards him, causing the shirt to
tear more.  The tail had been pulled out of his tight jeans and now the red
and black checked material was flapping in the breeze.  Kenneth pushed back
on the rock, and I could see some cracks in the dirt that it lay in.  He
continued to rock it back and forth, each push or pull loosening it
further.  As the dirt loosened around it, he was able to reach further
down, accelerating the progress that he was making.

Kenneth's right shoulder burst through the seams of his shirt, exposing the
deltoid muscle that undulated as he yanked on the boulder's edge, pulling
it up toward him an inch at a time.  The tendons in his bull neck were like
bridge cables, and the veins in his forehead and the side of his skull were
popping out.  Beads of sweat kept falling from him, and what little of his
shirt was left was now sticking to him, adhering from the sweat.

He bent down low at the knees and tore at the soil around the boulder with
his hands.  He thrust his mitts in deeply, then he slowly started to stand
up.  There was a deep noise coming from his throat, part gurgle, part
growl, all animal.  I could see now that the boulder was about 8 feet long
and 6 feet wide.  It had been buried long end down, so Kenneth had to keep
pulling on it to free it from the dense clay-like soil.  Kenneth was now
standing straight up, facing me, the boulder held out in front of him.

He sucked in some breath and said in a deep, deep voice, "Need some gravel
for your drive?"

"Oh God, don't tell me," I said.  My heart was pounding, probably harder
and faster than Kenneth's despite his exertions.

"I want to see it.  See your power.  See your strength."

"See, I discovered a flaw in this boulder that goes all the way through
it. One pull and it'll shatter. See?"  Kenneth started to pull the rock
towards him with his left hand and pushed away with his right and then
reversed it.  His biceps and triceps hardened alternately depending on the
way the rock was manhandled.  After about a minute of pulling, there was a
large crack and the rock split into two chunks.

"Ken, that's incredible, like a Hercules movie, only for real!"

Kenneth picked up one half and slammed it down on top of the other one that
was laying on the ground.  Chunks of stone broke off from each half.  He
grabbed a fragment that was about the size of a basketball and held it
between his hands.  He grunted as he pushed his hands in.  The stone
fractured and began crumbling in front of my eyes.

In less than half an hour, the boulder was a heap of coarse gravel.

"Damn, I need a drink of water!" Kenneth demanded.

"come on in, I'll get you a drink, I said.  My own throat was dry, maybe
partly because my mouth had been open while Kenneth demolished the boulder.
The sight of his thick forearm muscles rippling as he pummeled the stone,
how his furry chest heaved with the deep breaths he took as he worked, had
me panting too.

Kenneth's torso was sweaty and covered in dust.  He shrugged off the
remnants of his ruined shirt and started to wipe himself off, pecs and bis
twitching as he tried to swab himself down with the rags.

"That's already drenched, come on inside and I'll get a towel," I said.


I went through the house, Kenneth following behind me as I headed to the
bathroom.  I grabbed a towel from a cupboard and turned around.  Kenneth
was right behind me and I almost smacked my face into his meaty, sweaty,
hairy chest.  I could smell the pungent, musky scent coming off of him.

Kenneth looked into my eyes, down at his chest, and then back at me with
his thick lips in a smile. I looked up at his bearded face and smiled too.

"Can I touch your chest?" I shyly asked.

"I kinda hoped you were going to wipe me down."

"Yeah, I was.  But is it ok if I feel it without the towel first?"

"Sure, go ahead, Kenneth said.

He flexed his pecs for me, making them bulge out even further than they
already were.  I reached my hand out and lightly stroked through the
fur. Then I pressed down on the powerful muscle.  The density of his chest
was incredible.

"It was amazing what you did out there Kenneth"

"How's that, Mr. Bob?  Still on the fence about me and that bull?

I leaned forward and pressed my cheek against the damp hair matted on the
right side of his chest and rubbed my beard across it.

"See, I am drying you off, Ken.  Just in my own way."

I rubbed my chin down along the thick cleft of his pecs, sighing as I
reached the thick protruding nipple, then licked it.  I heard Kenneth sigh
then also.

I pulled away and asked, "Would you like to take a shower? Oh, you said you
were thirsty, let me get some water out of the fridge."

"Okay, sure. That'd be great, Mr. Bob."

But he was in the doorway and I couldn't get by. Kenneth took a step back
so that there was a narrow space for me to exit the bathroom, but I had to
press against his bulk to do so.  He patted my butt as I sidled by.

I went to the kitchen, filled a glass from a pitcher of water in the
fridge, and hurried back to hand it to Kenneth.  He took it in his thick
paw, threw his head back and gulped it down like an animal.  I handed him
the pitcher and he swallowed the rest down, his adam's apple bobbing with
each glug.  Kenneth wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and went
"Ahhhh."

"Mmmmmm, that's good. So, you offered me a shower? That's very kind of
you. "

"Well, you looked so hot and sweaty.  I thought you'd like to cool down," I
replied.

Ken pulled of the remnants of his jeans and pulled down his white boxers.
He was turned away from me and I saw the firm globes of his butt muscles
contract as he stepped out of the big underwear.  Then he turned my way and
I got the first look at what I had wanted to see.  His cock was hanging
down from beneath his rock hard, hairy powerlifter gut.  Hanging way down,
with a hefty ball sac behind it.  I glanced up and saw that Ken was
studying my face almost as much as I was studying his junk.  I could feel
my face flush.

"Wanna join me, Bob? I'm not being too forward by dropping the 'Mr'?"

I grinned and said, "Yeah!"

"Yeah, I'm being too forward?" he said, and his face broke out into a grin
of its own.

"Yeah, I want to join, you, you unbelievable powerhouse," I said, as my
hands unbuckled and unzipped my pants faster than they've probably ever
moved before.  I yanked them down, took off my briefs and pulled off my
sneakers without untying them as Ken started turning on the water, testing
it by reaching an arm into the shower.  His tricep hung down from his arm,
looking hard.  He stepped in and started to draw the showercurtain closed,
to keep the water from spraying.

I tugged off my socks and pulled the curtain back, to reveal the huge man
inside.  Water was coursing down the front of his body, making channels
through his thick body hair, forming a little cascade between his pecs,
spraying forward when it hit his stomach.  Even though it is a full-sized
tub there was not much room for me too.  I was pressed in against Ken
because he was so big.  He cupped his hands on my ass, and I felt the
rough, callused skin kneading me.  He shifted me a little off balance so
the my face was nuzzling his pecs, like it had been before.  The warm water
was falling over both of us, and I sighed as I reached out with my hands
and started feeling the wide traps around his neck.  He was so solid!

Ken put his mouth on mine and pushed his muscleman tongue into my mouth. My
own tongue was forced back, but he didn't fully dominate, more like he was
leading how he wanted the kiss to go.  And I was eager to follow him.
After a bit he broke the kiss and looked down on me.

"Still unsure about me and the bull?"

I shook my head.  "After what I saw you do, I believe everything, Ken."

"Bet you'd have enjoyed watching that, too!"

I nodded and asked, "What happened?"  My stiffening cock started to press
against his thick right quad in anticpation.

"He charged me, I stopped him in his tracks."

"That's it?" I asked, "What did you do, say "Red light, green light,
1,2,3?" I said with a chuckle.  That earned me a playful slap on the butt.

"A smartass.  I like that in a guy. He charged at me, and at the last
minute I reached out with my hands and grabbed onto his horns.  I had
planted my feet in a good stance to brace myself.  Then I just had to wait
a bit until he tired himself out, pawing at the dirt, trying to toss his,
head things like that."

My mouth was dry again.  "How long was a bit?"

"Oh, I'd say about half an hour.  That's why I was so late getting here."

I remembered the bulging tricep that I had seen a moment ago.  I imagined
both of Ken's arms, locked in front of him, iron horseshoes of huge muscles
as he kept the bull in check. The veins in his forearms must have been
sticking out from his skin like when he was crushing the boulder.  Damn, he
wrestled with a bull and then did the things that I saw?  My cock jutted
into his leg, as I leaked precum.

"Ken, your arms are so fucking amazing.  Hard, huge, powerful as a tank."

Ken then lifted me up by cradling my ass in the palm of one of his huge
hands.  He raised me up and we could both see drops of pre spritzing out
into the shower spray.  He manuevered me so that my throbbing cock was in
the crook of his other arm.  Then he brought his fist up and the arm
erupted into a rockhard flex.

"Wanna fuck that big arm, Bob?"

I moaned as my dick was surrounded by hard beefy muscle. He relaxed his
flex a little, so that I could slide my dick back and forth against his
bicep.

"Cover that big arm, Bob; worship it with your hot cum."

"Set me on your bicep, Ken, fuck me with it"

He smiled and lifted me higher so that he could have me straddle his arm,
looking down on his broad shoulders, one hand on the back of his thick head
of hair to steady myself.  He flexed and I could feel his upper arm pushing
up against me, making me rise up higher.

"Yeah, feel it working between your cheeks."

"Jesus, strength fucking me with your bicep," I gasped as I bucked my cock
head against Ken's shoulder, looking at his masculine, bearded face.  He
smiled and sighed.

"Yeah, shoot on me!  Cover me with your hot seed, Mr. Bob."

I thought about the displays of invicible power that I had seen this
lumberjack do and let loose with a volley of cum shots that splattered onto
his shoulder, pec and neck.  I was breathing hard as he gently lowered me
down.  Instinctively, I got on my knees.

Ken looked down and smiled as he started to stroke his own tool.  It was
the size that porn stars would envy, and his reddening cockhead was
beautifully shaped.  Ken rubbed his leaking head on my lips.

I opened my mouth to take the huge head in, but before I did I said, Feed
me your cock."

"Want to eat that load?"

I didn't answer, I just took his cock in as deep into my throat as I could.
That wasn't nearly the whole length, but Ken, ever polite, didn't force it
in deeper.  He was in control, I could tell, but he instictively knew my
limit.  He would guide my head sometimes with gentle hand movements, and
all I wanted was to make him feel as good as I had felt.  I could feel his
nuts tightening as I stroked and pulled on them while blowing him.  I
flicked my tongue around the base of his dickhead and he made sounds like
"Mmmph, mmmph."

After a few of these he switched to full throated, "Ahhhhh, ahhhhh."  And
then suddenly his cock started spasming hot loads into my mouth.  I managed
to swallow it all, and when he pulled out of my mouth I caught the last
salty drop on my tongue.

Ken gently picked me up under the arms and held me up as he kissed me.

"Mmmmmmmm. Well, my working day is done. The hauling truck will be here
tomorrow. Want to spoon with me for a while?"

"Yeah, that would be a wonderful way to end."  I turned off the water and
reached for a bath towel to hand to him. Then I laughed and gave him mine
too, saying, "You're so big, one towel won't be enough. I'll get another
one for me out of the cupboard."

We walked into the bedroom and stood next to the queen-sized bed.  Again I
laughed and said, "This is probably big enough for the two of us, but I'll
have to press up close to you in order to fit."

"Niiiiice," Ken said with a smile.  He pulled back the cover and top sheet,
and then lay me on the edge of the bed before climbing in behind me.  I
felt his left hand burrowing under me and his right one coming down over my
upper side, pulling me close against him.  His furry chest and stomach were
against my back.

"Ken, it feels so safe and warm with you holding me like this.  I'd like to
see you again."

Ken bent over me and kissed my cheek.

"I'd like that too, and you don't have to wait til you have landscaping for
that to happen."  Then with a contented sigh Ken lay back with his bearded
cheek against my shoulder.  We talked for a bit before drifting off to
sleep.  But my cock was stiffening feeling him surrounding me, and I could
feel his poking me a bit, so I nestled against him, anticipating what we'd
do when we woke up.