Date: Sat, 21 Feb 2004 13:25:15 EST
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: Pretty Panties

			      PRETTY PANTIES
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM

     Carl stamped the snow from his feet on the porch. God damn it, it was
cold! How the hell did he and Jake get talked into staying the winter at
this fucking logging camp, anyway? He held the load of firewood
precariously in one arm while he got the door open with the other, and
inside. Only good thing about this day was that Jake had made a trip into
town. Not only fresh provisions (read that "beer!"), but he would also
bring in such mail as they had received. A whole month's worth of mail
accumulated down there. He decided that this time, he wouldn't devour it in
a hurry, he'd make the mail last him, open it a little at a time, one by
one. Even the junk mail, read every word, savor the experience of something
new. And newspapers, God yes, he'd save those and read only one newspaper a
day, a month late, but every word, make them last!
     Inside was as cold as outside and he fretted as he loaded their little
Franklin stove with paper and kindling and then piled the firewood on top
of it. It took a bit of experience to build a good fire, the paper had to
burn hot enough and long enough to light the kindling, dry pine wood cut
into small sticks, and those would last long enough to catch the firewood,
which would last you, though you had to be sure to kick up the fire
sometimes, add more wood to it every so often. They took turns getting up
in the middle of the night to restoke the fire, letting it go out was
dangerous in these woods, when a snowstorm could blow up damn near
overnight. Fucking weather reports usually only helped after the fact, you
could look at the snow and find out how it had gotten there on you.
     He spent the time the fire took to grow and warm the room in going out
and getting more firewood, piling it by the stove, he and Jake would want
to relax over their mail tonight. He got plenty warm that way and when he
was done, he could go inside and ahhh! Time to take off the heavy coat, the
heavy gloves, the fur-lined boots, the extra pairs of pants and
shirts. Finally, he was down to only one shirt and one pair of pants on his
body, sitting in his chair and wriggling his sock-covered feet at the
fire. Toes always took the longest to get warm, it felt like, but sticking
them less than two inches from the sides of the stove would do it for him.
     A bang on the door and it opened, and Jake came in, wielding a large
box. "Mail call!" he called out as he always did. Hell, last month when it
was Carl's turn to visit the "fleshpots" (if you could call a general
store/post office and three houses, none with any pretty girls in them, by
such a lofty name), he'd done the same thing. Mail was brought in first.
     But that box. "Who's the big one from?" He asked as Jake set the box
down, a pile of newspapers (his, all his!) and a fair-sized bundle of
letters streaming down.
     "Don't ask me." Jake said with a strong tone of envy. "It's made out
to you."
     "Yeah?"
     "Merry Christmas." Jake said with a grin.
     "Hey, hey!" Carl said as the idea sank in. Any mail not brought in on
December 31st would have had to wait until now, a Christmas present this
late wasn't that impossible. Then he frowned. "But I wasn't missing any."
His parents, his older brother, his grandmother, nobody else out there to
send him anything.
     But he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth!
     "Come on, open it." Jake said, practically tramping the ground with
eagerness like a bull in rut.
     Patience, Carl told himself. Make it last. "Uh, let's get the
groceries in and have supper first. Then I'll open the box."
     "Bastard." Jake said without much heat to the curse. "I been looking
at that box all the way back here."
     Carl got a homesick feeling in his stomach as he remembered. "My
family would always open a present on Christmas Eve night, after supper."
he mused. The memory hurt more than he thought it would. "I'd sit and look
at those presents, picking out which one I wanted to open, that made the
food taste even better."
     Jake grinned. A big, burly bear of a man, with thick black hair all
over, arms, chest, legs, hands and feet, he understood Carl better than
anyone since his mother. "Want to make this a second Christmas, then?"
     "Why not?"
     "I got some ham steaks we can fry up." Jake licked his lips. The best
food always disappeared the first week or ten days of the month. "And some
biscuit mix to go with them."
     "Any yams?" Carl asked.
     "One can of them." Jake nodded.
     "I'll fix us a pie if you'll mix the biscuits." Carl offered.
     The celebration mimicked the one they'd had on New Year's Eve and New
Year's Day, their belated Christmas. Since their boss only mailed their
paychecks on the last day of the month and it was an all-day trip to get up
and down that mountain, they'd had to wait for Christmas. No electricity,
no gas, no television, no telephone. Only a radio blaring out music to keep
them company. Carl swore he'd be better prepared for this next year...only
it was funny how quick the money would go every time and he'd be broke when
it was time to come up here and babysit the logging camp through another
season. Most loggers spent the winter living off their summer's earnings,
and it could get pretty pitiful. He was lucky the boss would keep the two
of them up here every winter, make sure that people didn't carry off the
logging equipment. Just the smoke from their cabin and its isolation were
enough to take care of that. Though what he and Jake would do if a group
descended on them wasn't something he liked to think about. Take off
running, most likely.
     After the meal, and a couple of cold beers each warming them in
another way when duly imbibed, they cleared the table and set Carl's big
box on the table and took his first good look at it.
     "Ah, shit!" He said. "It was supposed to go to my little sister." His
family's fault, they had named his younger sister Carla, for God knows what
reason. Some ardent Romeo had sent her (an admittedly pretty girl in her
late teens) this box and his Mother had kindly re-addressed and mailed it
on to him, not noticing the squiggle after the "L" in "Carl" which was a
badly formed "A" missing some ink on the top half of it so it looked more
like a curlicue of sorts.
     "Who's Jordan Finch?" Jake asked.
     "Damned if I know." Carl said. "My sister dates a hell of a lot of
men. Some of them have more money than they know what to do with."
     "So what do we do?" Jake was looking as disappointed as Carl felt. It
had been something to two lonely men in a lonely cabin on a lonely
mountain, this box.
     "Hell, let's open it." Carl said in sudden determination. "If he had
to mail it to her, he can't be that much of a beau, can he? We can always
take it to Carla come springtime."
     Jake looked relieved. "Wonder what a rich man gives a girl he's sweet
on?" He asked.
     They opened the box and looked in.
     "Does that answer your question?" Carl asked.
     The box was brimful of every kind of sexy lingerie, garter, hose, bra
and girdle you could imagine. There were even some high-heel shoes in the
bottom, about six pairs of them!
     Jake reached in and pulled out an item at random, held it out gingerly
between the beefy fingers of his hairy hands. Red crotchless panties with
black lace trim.
     Jake regarded the dainty thing and then Carl heard a low groan bubble
out of the big man. "Aww, shit!" he said. "Can you imagine some hot chick
wearing nothing but this?"
     Carl wished he hadn't said that. The sudden image sprang into his
mind, a buxom woman standing there, her hips between Jake's arms, and she
was so real and so firm and so round and so soft and he could almost touch
her, all of sex in her body....
     And the image was gone, leaving only the pounding erection in his
pants. "Awww, shit!" he echoed Jake. "Shit, yeah!"
     He reached out to touch the panties and Jake pulled them back. "Get
your own." He said. "These are mine!" And he pulled the sheer fabric to his
face and rubbed it against his cheek, gently, lovingly, as if touching it,
he could touch the woman it was supposed to adorn.
     Carl thought about the touch of lingerie, the way it was so sleek, so
soft, so warm on the body of a woman, and he reached, dove for the box and
brought out a pink teddy, light and filmy and rubbed it on his own
cheek. God, it even smelled like a woman!
     He wanted to rub it over his entire body! Goddamn it, touch it if not
touch a woman!
     Alone! He needed to be alone! He looked around, but privacy was the
one thing this cabin did not afford. If one of them were to sleep in the
pickup truck, maybe the other could indulge this fantasy.
     He looked over at Jake, who now had a bustier in his grip and was
fondling the wire-supported breasts it had, the material giving way (only
the outline of the breast was so supported by wires) and Jake looked at
him, and in the long acquaintanceship they had shared, these many days and
nights in this cabin, they understood.
     Carl started to say "I won't look if you won't" or something similar,
but words weren't needed. He only nodded to Jake, who nodded back. "Okay by
me if it's okay by you" couldn't have been spoken better by words.
     Get it up against his skin! That's what he had to do! Get that sheer,
filmy fabric to touch his body, touch it all, not just his fingers, that
would work, drape himself in the largesse of woman's undergarments and
masturbate in the midst of it, hell, yeah!
     He fought the clothes from his body, seeing only peripherally that
Jake was doing the same, too caught up in his need, in his raw raging
fantasy, to watch his roommate disrobe. Hell, he'd seen Jake naked any
number of times, the only way to take a bath was to pull that oval bathing
tub into the middle of the room while you heated water over the stove to
pour into it. Summer was bathing in the nearby stream, but that water was
close to freezing or actually frozen over this time of year. Ice too thin
to walk on over water far too cold to think about washing in.
     But it was warm in the cabin, the way men surrounded by cold make
their place hotter to compensate, heat up the room and it'll last longer if
the fire goes out. Carl was on the verge of sweating as it was in his
clothes and long johns.
     But those were impediments now, he stripped them from his body and
naked now, finally naked, went to his mattress lying on the floor, planning
to roll about in them. Feel them on his body, yeah, yeah!
     But the fantasy didn't quite translate as he had hoped. The garments
were as sheer and filmy and flimsy and soft and sleek as he'd expected, but
they were cold. Nothing inside them. It took warmth to make a bra a
desirable thing, the aroma of human flesh adhering to it, and these were
clothing never worn by any actual woman. Somehow, his body felt that in the
material he lolled about over and though he draped it on his body and drew
the filmy pantyhose across his abdomen and made the toe of it into a sort
of sock-puppet to play with his dong, it just didn't work.
     He looked over at Jake, his hard-on still pounding but utterly
frustrated. Jake was there, a big, hairy bear, drawing the fabric over
himself...and obviously having as little luck. Jake picked up that white
bustier again, which would cover a woman from her breasts to just below her
waist.
     Watched as Jake, lost in his need, tugged it on over his body. The
elastic sides were strained to fit his brawny form, and he struggled with
it, the way Carl's last girlfriend had when she would put on such a
garment, and the similarity of the movements sent a surge through Carl's
cock and he moaned with the utter deprived need of it.
     Jake looked over, the bustier ill-fitting and their eyes matched
again. Only this time, Jake spoke. "What are you looking at?"
     "Nothing." Carl lied. Then, his lips and throat formed the words
without his knowing it, he heard them as a stranger from his own mouth,
"Can I touch it?"
     "Huh?"
     Carl was lost in his need, depraved in his desire, he babbled out,
"You know they don't feel right unless someone's wearing them!" He snatched
up a piece at random, red bra and said, "See, you put them on and I put
them on and we can touch them and they'll feel right, I'll bet."
     Jake watched as Carl struggled with the bra. How the hell did women
reach back and fasten those things on themselves? He turned, concentrating
on his struggle and when he was about to give up, pick another garment, he
felt Jake's hands take the ends from him and hook them in.
     Carl turned around and Jake was there, right there. "Put on the
pantyhose." He said. "I love to rub my hands over a woman's
pantyhose. Better'n skin in some ways."
     "You, too." Carl panted.
     "And you need these." Jake held out a pair of red panties, like the
crotchless kind, but these were true panties, heavily laced. "Got to have
the panties on. Pretty panties. Pretty, pretty panties."
     "None on you." Carl dealt back at him. "Just those straps that hook
the panties to the bottom of your bustier." He gasped. I like to run my
hands over the top of them and onto the skin of the thigh."
     They sat on Carl's bed, the two strapping men, and put on women's
hose. Carl felt how the tight, sleek thin material clung to him like a
second skin, it was necessary to pull it very carefully, just right, or it
wouldn't go all the way up. The material was incredibly elastic, but it had
to be laid down right on target or it wouldn't go. Not like a man's sock at
all, once it was put on, it stayed where it was.
     He had to do it like a woman, roll the stocking down to the very toes
in his hands, and then tuck his own toes in and then pull them up, letting
the fabric go so slowly, pulling it up his body, up and up. Finally, on the
third try, he got them up to his thighs and let them do, the elastic tops
at least like men's socks, they clapped into place and he felt
triumphant. Now the panties, and he got up to step into them.
     Jake, already done, watched him slide them up his body. He was
surprised to find that they fit him pretty darned well! Of course, a real
woman would have some hips to her, so she'd need the room. Only place they
didn't fit were around his cock, which was still standing erect.
     He looked at Jake, panting. "Now what?"
     "Shoes." Jake said. "Red shoes. Got to keep your shoes on."
     Carl reached into the box, brought out a pair of red high-heeled
shoes, and a pair of black ones. "I like them black." he said as he tossed
the flimsy things to Jake.
     No way would his feet go into those things. He got his left foot in,
but it was a good bit smaller (two full sizes) than his right foot, he had
to just stand on the toe and strap the top over the roof of his foot and
let it be like that. He couldn't have walked for Adam, but hell, walking
wasn't the point here.
     "Now what?" he asked Jake.
     Jake lay down. "Come here baby, and make Pappa happy." he said as he
put his arms out.
     His stomach fluttering, he lay down on the bed next to Jake. This was
getting pretty damned close to sex with another man!
     Jake's hand went over and onto his outer thigh and stroked along it, a
long, languid motion. The thought of that strong hand, that powerful arm,
making such a tender gesture was just incredible! To be touched in
gentleness by strength. He reached down as Jake's hand finished the caress
and did his own, his hand running along the back of Jake's stocking-clad
leg. As he'd said, Carl stroked up, feeling the hose, the sunken ring where
the elastic top was, and then he was touching Jake's bare flesh and that
part of Jake's body, though hairy, was tender as a woman's. He kept up and
cupped Jake's buttock in his hand and palped it, a hard squeeze!
     Jake gasped and his hand came up and gripped Carl's breast through the
bra. Carl had just enough pec muscle there to help fill out the bra a
little, and Jake grabbed that, squeezed hard as hell.
     Carl groaned as the strength showed itself, and his cock slammed up to
full erection again. He stroked Jake's midriff, covered by the bustier, and
felt the warmth underneath. Damn, now it felt right, just right!
     His other hand went down and grabbed hold of his cock and he stroked
Jake's body with one hand while he pumped his prod with the other! "Ah,
shit, yeah!" he moaned. "Yeah!"
     Jake rolled on top of him, Carl found his legs lifted up into the air,
and both of Jake's massive hands were running up and down his legs. The
feel of those warm hands through the hosiery was something indefinably
sweet, it was the best of touching a woman and being touched by a man, when
you shake a man's hand and he's a strong man, you love the feel of it, the
power that is joining with you there, and that was this feeling, only more
so, the hand was stroking up and down his legs, fondling his skin, feeling
his body!
     "Oh, G-o-o-o-o-d!" Carl groaned. "Oh, God, oh, God!" And his hands
moved of themselves again, and they pulled Jake's body down to his and his
legs went up and around Jake and he felt his skin, his hose-covered skin,
touching that strong body and his hands, they felt that bustier, all slinky
and exotic, but underneath it was all man, all man!
     When Jake's lips met his and kissed him, Carl didn't think anything
strange about it, he took that kiss and he kissed back with equal fervor,
craving and pressing those warm, warm lips, against his own. When Jake's
tongue slid into his mouth, he sucked on it, sucked on that fat tongue,
tasting of beer, tasting of ham, tasting of lumberjack, tasting of man!
God, it was all good!
     Jake broke it off and lay in Carl's arms, panting heavily. "Shit, man,
are we doing this? Are we really doing this?"
     Carl saw Jake through the sheen of raw lust and growled, "Damn
straight we are!" and this time he kissed Jake and his tongue was crammed
into that bulky man's mouth and danced upon his teeth. Carl felt the rasp
of five o'clock shadow on Jake's cheeks, there was the flavor of raw
alcohol stronger than ever, and yet his hands touched the silken sheen of
lingerie, felt the satiny smoothness of nylon hose, looked upon a white
bustier covering a hairy torso, poorly, inadequately, and that was somehow
just right, too. The very best of man and woman were all wrapped up
together and he had it in his arms.
     He felt Jake's cock prodding at his ass and he gasped, his eyes wide,
looked up into Jake's eyes...and surrendered. Hell, if he had to get
fucked, who better than Jake to do it for him? He knew Jake, he trusted
Jake more than he had ever trusted anyone before, his body screamed out,
yeah, come on, Jake, fuck me!
     All he did was pull the panties he was wearing to the side, and Jake's
fat dick slid into the gap created, raw, dry, unlubricated dong was
knocking at his back door and that was just right, too!
     "Yeah, come on, cram it in me, fucker!" He growled. "Bust my fucking
cherry ass wide open!"
     Jake's cockhead found his sphincter and pushed and the pressure was
enormous, it was like Jake was about to split him in two! And the part of
his body in raw rut shouted yeah, come on, do it, man, do it!
     He clutched Jake's back and gasped as Jake stuffed the thick dong into
his body, only eager grunts escaped his lips as his ass was ravaged,
scraped raw, he felt the hot rush of blood as he was ripped, but he didn't
fucking care! He was getting fucked by Jake and that was all he'd ever
wanted, ever!
     When Jake sunk into the very base, Carl's body was bright in agony and
all he could say was, "Yeah, come on, fuck me, you big, furry bastard. Fuck
me while I play with your bustier, you goddamned big-cocked slut!"
     "Fucking pussy." Jake moaned as he began to pull out, and Carl's body
yelped anew at this raw violation. "Goddamned man-pussy, that's what you
got, and I'm going to fuck you, turn you inside out!"
     "Yeah, come on, do it!" Carl snarled. "Give it to me hard, you
shit-head!"
     And Jake did hump him hard, Carl's ass only stopped hurting when every
last bit of his tissue had been scraped and lubricated with his own ass's
blood, he was being taken in a very total sense, blood like that of a
virgin was pouring onto his bed, Jake was taking his cherry, the first time
was supposed to hurt, damn it, so go on and hurt!
     "Hah, hah, hah, hah, hah!" Jake was grunting with each slam into
Carl's body, the big man was already close to creaming. Hell, that didn't
sound so bad to him, either! He pumped his dick and it hummed right off and
his gasps chimed in with Jake's in a contrapunctual fashion, hah-ah,
hah-ah, hah-ah!
     "I'm coming, I'm coming!" Jake groaned as he rammed even harder at
Carl's butt. "Going to fucking cream all inside you!"
     "Yeah, come on, man, come on, do it, do it!" Carl moaned.
     And Jake gave a slow moaning growl, his face slowly morphing from the
placid neutrality of sexual feeling into the near-painful ecstasy of
building climax, a grimace contorting his face little by little until he
was like a grinning gargoyle, and that gargoyle's lips parted and sounded
out, "UHHH-MMMMGGGGHHHH-HAH!" And Jake's come blasted into Carl's ravaged
ass, searing his violated bowels, salty streams of painful delight, oh,
yeah, he was Jake's bitch now, he was Jake's whore, a fucked slut, that was
him!
     And Jake panted, fell down onto him, crushing his hand against his
hotly pulsating cock. Shit, he was so close to coming and hadn't made it!
     But that satiny smooth bustier was rubbing against his cock, and the
warm body of Jake was underneath that, pushing down on him, Carl moaned,
pulled his hand out and began to hunch up against Jake's bustier, rubbing
Jakes's stomach with his steel-hard tool and he was close, so close and
that smooth satin garment did the rest, he was going to come all over a
woman's bustier, shit, yeah!
     Jake started to get up and Carl's legs locked him in place while Carl
groaned "EEEEE-YAHHHHH!" and shot his load right onto Jake's body, Jake's
smooth, silken-covered body, so warm, so full, so HIS!
     "God, you're making a mess out of me!" Jake griped as Carl thrashed
beneath him. "Little whore, you creamed on my bustier!"
     Carl, barely finished with his ejaculation, could only pant out a
chuckle in answer.
     "You think that's funny, bitch?" Jake said and his hand came down and
clutched Carl's hair, a big handful. "You want to get into a hissy-fight
with me, pussy!"
     "Uh, uh, yeah, yeah!" Carl moaned.
     "I'll claw your eyes out, bitch!"
     Jake did no such thing, it was more of a slapping contest as Carl
fended him off without much effort, a good thing for he was wrung totally
dry. Just two good friends horsing around.
     Done with that, Jake rolled off and lay beside him, looked at the
stained bustier.
     "I wonder how we're supposed to clean this way the hell up here?" he
said.
     "Beats me." Carl said. "I'll call my mother when I go down for
supplies the end of next month and ask her."
     Jake looked at him and realized he was joking. "Seriously, I hate to
ruin these things right off." he said. "They got to last us the rest of the
cold season, all the way up until April."
     "We got enough to last us a while." Carl said. "And besides, when I
can get it up again and get to stuff my cock in your butt, I want to put
that black lace thing I saw in the box on you, along with those fish-net
stockings. You'll look nice and hot in that, what with your black hair."
     Jake looked at him. "When you going to be ready to go again?" was his
only response to the prospect of being fucked.
     "About time I finish reading my mail. All my mail."
     "All of it? At once?" Jake said. "Aren't you worried about getting
bored?"
     "Nope." What with that box of goodies they now had, Carl sure wasn't
worried about being bored for a while!

				  THE END
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