Date: Sat, 17 Apr 2021 15:33:44 -0300
From: luke claye <luke.claye@gmail.com>
Subject: Lumberjacks

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Lumberjacks
by luke claye

I just couldn't wait anymore.

I turned away from Bastien, slowly dropped my pants down to my ankles,
teasing him, and leaned against the tree, arching my back so that my hole
was as exposed to him as possible, ready to be claimed and used as he saw
fit.

It was getting dark. The dark green of the treetops clashed with the
yellowing sky as birds flew south, fleeing the nearing Winter with a sense
of hurry that Bastien didn't seem to have.

He stood still at first, balancing his heavy axe on his broad shoulder as
lust flickered in his eyes. Even from this far, I could see droplets of
sweat on his forehead, making his black hair look wet, and his strong,
bulky chest heaving up and down under his red flannel shirt, exhausted from
the hard day's work that had just ended. But I too was tired, and some
comfort was all I was asking from my friend.

Then I heard his boots crushing dead leaves as he began walking toward me,
staring at my bare ass very hard, making me twitch in anticipation and
almost beg for him to hurry up and touch me already. The cool breeze of
late Fall kissed my asscheeks, making me feel lonely as I waited for him to
come and finally warm me up.

I could hear the rest of the boys in the distance, heading back to camp and
getting ready to drink enough whiskey to drown a bear in, alcohol and songs
around the campfire being the only fun we had being so far into the
woods. I and Bastien had to be quick, otherwise they could worry and come
looking for us.

But my Canadian friend didn't seem too bothered by that possibility, and
when he finally reached me he just slowly ran his calloused, heavy hand
over my ass, making me shiver as he looked me in the eyes with an
expression of excitement mixed with something else I couldn't quite figure
out.

It was a shame he spoke so little English, and I, no French at all. But
sometimes I felt like I could read his thoughts on his big amber eyes, and
when he began gently running the tip of his fingers over my asshole, I
could see they were silently asking: "Is this what you want?"

"Yes," I whispered, but the word escaped my lips in an incomprehensible
sigh of pent-up lust.

Bastien lifted his axe from his shoulder, never breaking eye contact, then
reclined it against the tree I was hugging, and moved to my back, out of my
sight, where I could only guess what he was doing by the sounds he made and
by what part of his body was touching mine. I tried turning my head to keep
looking at him, intoxicated by the flirty, confident smile he gave me
whenever our eyes met, but he grabbed my head and forcefully pushed it back
against the tree, making it clear that I shouldn't move.

This was the exact position he wanted me in, and so I complied, arching my
back a little more, and closed my eyes to picture his face, remembering the
way his eyes closed whenever he gave me a cocky smile, and his big nose,
always red whenever he got too drunk and began laughing, throwing his head
back and showing off his thick, manly neck, lightly covered in the stubble
he didn't seem eager to turn into a fully grown beard, or disciplined
enough to shave every morning.

I began breathing hard as I heard the sound of him undoing his pants,
pulling them down just enough to free his hard member.

My mind ran wild. I wanted to see it, I wanted to find out if it was as big
as everything else on that man. But I wouldn't dare move after he had made
his orders so clear, and was left wondering if his dick was just as thick
as his strong arms, powerful enough to cut through the hardest timber in
the forest like it was nothing but a bunch of twigs.

Fortunately, the sound of him spitting on his hand made it clear it
wouldn't be long before I felt how hung he was.

And in a considerate gesture, Bastien began smearing his spit all over my
hole, applying more and more of it as he felt it needed even more lubricant
to take him in, and gently massaging my asshole without any rush, until I
was almost dripping, excited by the firm way he used his other hand to grab
one of my cheeks and push it aside, displaying my hole as much as possible
while he slid his pinky finger inside of me.

I moaned, glad to finally be touched that way. It had been so long, so long
since I had first laid eyes on the Canuck, and I had spent so many days
staring at him as he swung his axe with all his strength against the trees,
hitting them in a rhythmic, powerful, precise way, making me dream of being
subjected to a similar display of his raw power.

And now it was about to happen.

And as it became clear his finger was sliding inside of me with ease,
Bastien began using his surprisingly thick middle finger instead, forcing
me to relax my hole a little more in order to let it in, making me moan as
each articulation forced its way through, until I felt his knuckles pushing
against my ass as he caressed my smooth insides, grazing my prostate and
making me drip precum like a leaky faucet. Then he took his finger away
slowly, all the way out, until I was again feeling empty and lonely, and
proceeded to slide it back in once more. I was feeling particularly
receptive that evening, but nevertheless struggled to let him back inside
every time he took it all the way out, and I shuddered at the thought of
what was going to happen next, if this guy could get me so worked up with
just a finger.

But after a few moments, he had worked me so loose that it wasn't hard
anymore, and decided to increase the challenge, and my pleasure, by
sticking two fingers up my ass. And he moved them inside of me, sometimes
stimulating my prostate, others just bending them like a hook and pulling
me up, forcing me to keep arching my back, making me feel like nothing but
a hole for him to play with.

Then he chuckled, realizing I was now relaxed enough to handle something
meatier. He slapped my ass a few times, not worrying about all the noise he
was making in the woods, and then shook it a little, satisfied by the way
my bubblebutt jiggled while he waited for the redness from his strikes to
develop, and then slapped it again, always letting out and interrogative
sound, as if asking if I wanted more, which I replied with gasps and moans
that he took for permission to be as rough as he wanted.

But I forgot all about how sore my ass felt when he began rubbing the tip
of his dick against my asshole.

I was still wet from his spit, but I could feel how covered in precum his
dickhead was. We were ready for each other. And so he began applying
pressure, pushing the tip of his cock against my hole, making me painfully
aware of how much meatier than a couple of finger that thing was, and as
soon as I had relaxed enough to let it in, feeling it stretching me and
rubbing against my insides, he took it out and began rubbing it over my
poor asshole again, then forced it in once more, then out again, making me
so excited, so eager for his manhood, that I became looser and looser,
until he was able to get inside of me in a single movement with no effort,
which he began doing repeatedly, using just his dickhead to fuck me.

I was in heaven, but it was hell. I was breathing hard, feeling like a
bitch in heat, begging for him to fuck me with all he got already, but his
cockhead alone was hard and big enough to make me crazy. I couldn't believe
how open I was feeling, it was like he had worked me loose enough to fuck
me with a doorknob, which couldn't be much different from what he was doing
right now.

The Canadian laughed, seeing the state he had put me into, and then passed
his unbelievably strong arm around my neck, bending me backwards, almost
choking me, then he stood still, his dickhead inside of me as I tried to
keep my ass as high as I could get it. And I could feel his other hand
firmly grabbing my hip when he began breathing down my neck, then slowly
moving up, rubbing his stubble against my skin and making me shiver with
the rough, sturdy way he was manhandling me.

I shook like a leaf when he pressed his lips against my ear, then let out
an interrogative groan, his voice very deep, as if asking, without words:
"Like this?"

And I rolled my eyes when he finally began sliding his shaft inside of me.

And I was shocked to see his girth went beyond my expectations.

Bastien grabbed my hip with so much force that I was afraid he was going to
crush me, and firmly held me in that position as he began feeding me more
and more man meat, stretching my hole to its limits and making me fall into
a slight panic as I felt him getting deeper and deeper, with no end in
sight, my heart beating so hard I was afraid my chest was going to
explode. I began breathing harder, in shallow and rapid repetitions as I
tried to take him in, then looked down at my feet, flustered, looking for
his axe, trying to make sure he was fucking me with his cock and not with
that wooden handle.

But his axe was still resting against the tree.

I shook my head, and tried to back away from his dick, unable to stand how
deep it felt, and how much it was stretching me open, but the lumberjack
held me tight, then stood still and began shushing into my ear, trying to
calm me down.

We stood like that for a few moments, his dick almost halfway inside of me
as we hugged in the woods, the sunset now painting everything in a golden
hue, the birds singing far away as I began calming down, my breath slowly
getting in lockstep with Bastien's own as he pressed his barrel chest
against my shoulder blades and kept shushing into my ear, patiently waiting
for me to be ready to take him whole.

I got the impression he was used to dealing with panic attacks whenever he
fucked someone.

Bastien began kissing my neck and running his thick fingers up inside my
shirt, over the side of my torso, making me shiver in pleasure with the
light, ticklish way he caressed me, until I was finally able to relax once
again, and he slowly began pushing my ass back toward him, now trying to
make me let him in at my own pace, and I felt my hole swallow more and more
of that man as I went back, and moaned in lust and disbelief when I felt
his low-hanging balls against my butt.

I couldn't believe how big that thing was, how deep inside my guts it was
poking, and how thick it felt, stretching my hole like never before,
pressing my prostate and stimulating it with its sheer girth.

Bastien stopped choking me and took his arm out of my neck, grabbed the
back of my head and pushed it against the tree, bending me over and getting
me in position to be fucked. But then he also bent over me, pressing his
muscular chest against my back again and making me feel the weight of his
body over mine as he went somewhat limp, resting over me and making me feel
subdued by nothing but the size of his hefty, musclebound manliness.

What a fucking stud.

And then he sticked his hand inside my shirt again, this time running it up
over my belly and chest until he found my nipple, and began gently playing
with it while we stood still, basking in that moment of complete intimacy,
as close together as two people can get, two bodies occupying the same
place. Then Bastien gave me another small kiss on my shoulder before he
began moving his hips and fucking me nice and slow.

His movements forced me to focus on nothing but relaxing and letting him do
whatever he wanted to, and I was grateful by the way he did it gently at
first, playing with my nipples and holding my hip.

After a while, Bastien stood back up, always holding me in place, and began
fucking me deeper, rocking his hips back a little more every time before
thrusting his member inside of me again and again, until I began feeling
his dickhead stretching my hole to get out, and then stretching it again as
he forced it back in. And at that point, feeling the length of his whole
dick as it went through me, as he made me painfully aware of just how much
cock this Canadian had to use on me, I began losing my mind, rolling my
eyes and paying attention to my ass only, trying as best as I could to give
it up to him. I was completely his, my asshole was completely his, and all
I wanted was for him to use it as hard as he wanted, like nothing but a
hole for him to dump his urges in.

And when he began grunting louder and louder, fucking me faster and harder,
angrily squeezing me as he held me in place, I turned my head to look at
him, and our eyes met. And he gave me one of his beautiful cocky smiles,
only this time there was something mean about it, like he was enjoying how
much I was struggling to keep up with how hard he wanted to fuck me, and he
kept thrusting his giant member inside of me with all his might, like he
was trying to make a point about demanding I gave in completely, and I
could read his mind by the wicked twinkle he had on his eyes:

"Your ass is mine now, bitch."

And Bastien began slapping my butt again, harder than ever, making me moan
and cry a little each time, and he groaned like a bear as I looked into his
eyes and asked him for more. I couldn't get enough of him, I wanted it
deeper, faster, harder, stronger. I wanted to feel him using all of his
rock hard muscles against my helpless hole, I wanted him to abuse me with
all his power, to feel all his manliness as he came inside of me.

And as I got more and more excited, Bastien began saying things in French I
couldn't understand, but that nevertheless made me feel very dirty, like a
worthless little whore. And as his words began turning into deep moans once
again, he began repeating just a few of them over and over, making it
easier for me to guess what he meant.

"Putain... Putain, ça c'est bon... ma petite salope, ma petite
salope..."

"Fuck," I moaned in reply, "please, don't stop, please, don't stop..."

But Bastien suddenly seemed angry at me for talking, and covered my mouth
with his hand, making me shut the fuck up as he began groaning louder than
ever, and fucking as hard as he could go, my words now just muffled moans
of lust and desire as the sound of his big balls smacking my ass echoed
loudly througout the forest.

I closed my eyes in pure ecstasy. There was nothing right now that could
make me feel more fulfilled than that Canadian dick up my ass, ramming me
so hard I was afraid he would bring down the tree I was hugging. And I kept
trying to open my eyes now and again, shaking my head as I felt my mind
drifting away, my consciousness slowly fading even as I tried my best to
keep aware of my surroundings, but was forced to give up on that idea again
and again as Bastien's hefty balls hit against my taint, blanking my mind
as his firm hold made me feel helpless, with no other option but to grit my
teeth and accept whatever he decided to do to me, and I sighed and moaned
as he fucked my brains out.

That's probably why it took me so long to notice John watching us.

And it took me a split second to realize what that meant.

Several feet from us, not really hiding his presence, the young foreman was
standing with his arms crossed, staring at me with his steel blue eyes. He
had certainly come looking for us, and followed the thumping and moaning
sounds that filled the woods this evening.

And we had been found out. John's dead serious gaze met mine, making my ass
flinch as I felt thunderstruck by his stern expression, an expression of
silent anger I had never seen on his beautiful face.

That sight scared me shitless, and I tried saying something, but Bastien
was still covering my mouth and simply ignored my muffled protests. The
Canuck kept fucking me as I tried to tell him what was going on, and firmly
held me in place as our boss watched me taking Canada's biggest cock up my
ass.

I stopped protesting. There was nothing I could do, and all the fucking
lust I was feeling right now suddenly became even stronger, and took over
me as I realized how excited that situation was making me.

I liked being powerless to make Bastien stop. I liked having been found
out, being judged by my boss' blue eyes in this dirty, sluty situation I
had put myself into.

Why was it? What was it about the way John stood watching me, with his
strong arms crossed, that made me feel even hornier? I knew I'd always
found him a very attractive man, being so tall, so muscular, so sturdy as
he was. And I loved his blond hair and beard, and his masculine facial
features, thick eyebrows, square jaw, full lips...

And the angry way he stared at me. Fuck. What was wrong with me?

"So that's where you guys were," he said from where he stood, and Bastien
froze still when he noticed the foreman walking toward us. I don't know
what went through his mind, but I noticed how deep inside my guts he lodged
his cock, and how impossibly hard it was, throbbing as John got just a few
feet away from us, as handsome as ever, filling in his green flannel shirt
nicely, and my hole began pulsating, slowly at first, then faster and
faster, almost as fast as my heartbeats, squeezing Bastien's dick as if
trying to milk it, hungrier for cock than ever.

I was half sheer fright, half uncontrollable horniness.

But a hundred percent submissive fuckhole.

And when John finally reached us, as I thought he was going to have me
fired, or worse, my boss just put his hand on my head and began petting me
like one of his dogs, smiled at Bastien and said, flatly, "What's the
matter? Keep fucking him."

The Canadian laughed, and went back to screwing me even more excited than
before.

I was still bent forward, hugging the tree for balance, and so had my head
at about John's belt buckle's height. He looked down at me as I was rocked
back and forth by Bastien's thrusts, arched his eyebrows in a disappointed,
slightly annoyed way, and pushed my head toward his pants. That fucking
gorgeous blond hunk.

I instinctively began sniffing his crotch as he began talking to me.

"I can't believe one of my boys was a fucking cumdump all along," he told
me, a frown still on his face. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me, you idiot?
Do you know how many guys here haven't had a hole to fuck for weeks now? Do
you?" he insisted, now slapping my face lightly, as if trying to catch my
attention, but I was lost in the sweet, manly smell of his sweat, and
couldn't hear him well as he pressed my head against his hardening member.

"You selfish motherfucker," he continued, now grabbing the back of my head
and humping it. "My life would've been so fucking easier if you'd just told
me the guys had a hole to release some stress all this time."

John's deep voice made me shudder with its serious, angry tone as he now
began undoing his pants, revealing a fully erect, very veiny dick, whose
girth and length I had only some split seconds to admire before he began
smacking my face with it, grabbing it by its bushy, blond base and swinging
it like a club against me.

"I'm so sorry, John," I tried to say, but my words were barely
comprehensible as Bastien's dicking kept me almost out of breath, and the
young foreman just kept reproaching me for keeping secret the fact that my
ass was up for grabs, his dick getting harder the more the belittled me.
It wasn't long before it began leaking precum, which he was smearing all
across my face as he used his cock to slap me.

I realized I was probably going to have to work very hard to regain his
favor.

Then John held me by my chin, forcing me to look up at his blue eyes, his
rock hard cock now resting against my lips, and I instinctively began
kissing it, trying to show the foreman how sorry I was, and how much I
respected him. Bastien laughed. He was enjoying this game.

They had me reduced to a little bitch begging to be forgiven. To be
forgiven and fucked. John looked at me disappointed, almost as if too tired
to keep explaining how much I had fucked up.

"Just suck me already," he said out of patience, "I'll have the boys teach
you a lesson later."

And the Canuck stopped fucking me for a few seconds, so that I could let go
of the tree and hug John's thick, muscular thighs instead, but began
ramming my ass again as soon as he made sure I wasn't going to fall.

The foreman had his dick pressed against my face, and I felt his manly musk
invading my senses. I ran my nose against his blond pubes and low-hanging
balls, trying to take in as much of that smell as possible, then marveled
at his bright red, bulbous dickhead, which had a little drop of precum on
top, and I smiled when Bastien thrust me forward once more and I
accidentally bumped against it, and his precum became now a thin, clear
rope that ran from the tip of my nose to his cock.

And I could feel how all that was making my hole even more relaxed, even
more open to let the Canadian in.

"I said suck it," John repeated himself, which he obviously hated doing,
given how hard he pushed his dick down my throat.

I opened my mouth wide and tried to swallow him as deep as I could, and was
surprised by how thick it felt on my mouth, stretching my jaw and my lips
to their upper limits. That was a nice cock. Now that I had it in my mouth,
I could see it wasn't much longer than your average dick, but it surely was
much thicker, like it had been designed to ruin any hole it was put into.

"Come on, don't be a pussy," John complained, "Take it all in," and I tried
my best to obey.

I had never been fucked that way. Two of the manliest men I had ever met
were using me at the same time, both of them fucking my holes in an eager,
almost frustrated way, ready to tear me up if needed in order to finally
bust a nut after being stuck in the woods with nothing but their own hands
to please themselves. And I felt proud to be the fuckhole they had been
dreaming of for so long, even if it was hard to keep my balance as John
began fucking my skull, forcing me to do my best and try to swallow him
without gagging, while Bastien hit me so deep inside my guts, pulling my
asscheeks apart, thrusting against me with all his might.

It was like I had been born for this moment.

And as they pressed on, turning me into their fucktoy, there was nothing
else on my mind but how it felt to be spit roasted like that, and the
slurping, gagging sound the blond hunk forced me to make, and the sound of
the Canadian hunk's hips and balls smacking my ass, all that echoing in the
forest in a rhythmic, obscene way, made me fall into a trance, my eyes
rolling up, my mind blanking, so much cock at once, so hard to keep up with
them, my hole so stretched, those motherfuckers so hard, so deep, so hard,
so hard...

I began coming handsfree.

And it was a weird feeling I had never experienced. At first I became
alarmed, it felt like I was peeing, but then I looked down and saw my dick
shooting its load, swinging freely in the cold Fall breeze as my hole
twitched like crazy, squeezing Bastien's huge cock as it massaged my
prostate. That hung stud was big enough to fuck a load out of me, pressing
my cum button with his sheer girth and making me shoot every ounce of sperm
I had in my balls.

I moaned loudly, and tried to reach my cock to jerk it off, but the foreman
and the Canuck were fucking me so hard that I couldn't let go of John's
muscular thighs without losing my balance and hitting the ground, and so I
was forced to keep cumming with nothing but oral and anal stimulation, the
urge to grab my dick increasing out of control for each rope of cum I shot,
and my innability to jack off making me go crazy, somehow even hornier than
before, frustratingly so, even hungrier, even more eager for those
lumberjack cocks relentlessly assaunting my ass and my throat.

But I guess the strong way my asshole squeezed Bastien's dick pushed him
over the edge, massaging his member in a way he wasn't expecting, and I was
still cumming when he stopped humping me and sticked his cock as deep as he
could, grabbed my hips with all his strength, and began shooting inside of
me, his rock hard dick throbbing so much I could feel his pulse in it, his
ropes of man juice hitting my guts while John smiled, pleased to finally
see my hole being put to good use, while he kept feeding me his foreman
dick and making me gag and drool, merciless.

"That's it, you dumb whore. That's what you deserve."

The men looked at each other and began laughing, pleased by the fraternal
intimacy of sharing the same cumdump.

"It's my turn now," John said, like a boy pushing his friend aside for his
turn with the shiny new toy, taking his cock out of my mouth and finally
allowing me to breath freely.

And I stood up straight for the first time in the last several minutes,
flustered by all the action, gasping for air and feeling my legs tremble as
Bastien's load began running down my inner thighs. I looked down and
finally grabbed my dick, which was hard as a fucking rock, completely wet
from my own cum. But it didn't feel like it. I was still feeling just as
horny, if not even more, than before shooting my load.

I was ready for more.

The studs changed places, and when my Canadian friend got in front of me I
was finally able to see his dick for the first time, with some of the cum
he had just put into me smeared all over it. I couldn't believe I had been
able to take him so hard. Fuck, what a beautiful dick. That man was hung
like a horse, and his member hung between his legs, long, hefty and uncut,
its skin darker than his face or arms, veiny, thick, and with a big
dickhead, which was shining like an apple as its smooth surface was wet
with Canadian seed. No wonder it had been so hard to get that thing in.

Bastien noticed I was staring at his cock and smiled. He hadn't shaved in a
couple of days, and his sweet, full lips went nicely with his manly
stubble, making my heart melt and my legs even weaker. We were so close to
each other I could smell his sweat and hear his tired, heavy breathing. And
I realized I had never got so close to his square jaw and amber eyes, which
stared back at me in a relaxed, almost grateful way, certainly thankful
that I took it like a champ as he ravaged my ass.

He leaned in for a kiss, and as I felt his lips touching mine, all my
musculature relaxed, and I gave in to his strong hug, embracing me in a
gentle, yet powerful way, before I realized he was actually holding me in
place for whatever was next.

John pressed his cock against my butt and grabbed my hair.

"Hold him tight, will you?" he asked Bastien, who looked at him and smiled,
guessing what the boss wanted.

"Vas-y," he answered in French, and even though I didn't know the word, the
way he said it made it sound like "Fuck him good."

Fuck, how I loved my Canadian hunk. I tried to rest my head against his
chest and open up for John, but the way he was pulling my hair made it
impossible. The foreman really liked it rough. And he began pushing the tip
of his cock against my hole, making me let out a little sigh of discomfort,
which he promptly ignored, but that Bastien noticed, smiling, almost as if
pitying me, and deciding to kiss me again, as gently and passionately as
I've ever been kissed.

I guess the thing I wasn't expecting was the clash between their
personalities. Bastien was a very sweet man, and even if his dick was the
biggest one I had ever taken up my ass, he had all the while been so
gentle, kissing my neck, making sure I had enough spit on my hole to take
it easier, playing with my nipples, caressing my head, my hips, my
thighs... And even as he fucked me like an unbroken stallion, slapping my
butt and making it bright red, I still somehow felt that it came from a
place of love, and that I could trust him, and gladly give in to him, sure
that he would be there for me if I needed anything.

But John was built differently.

He was the boss, and he liked to remind everyone of that fact, especially
given that he was roughly the same age as most of us, very young for a
foreman. In order to be respected, the blond hunk felt his authority should
be enforced every time he had a chance.

And that same authoritarian mindset showed itself in the way he had
skullfucked me, grabbing my head with his powerful grip and holding it in
place as he moved his hips further forward than I thought my throat could
take it. John never took no for an answer, he was never afraid to show who
was in charge of this operation.

And being as tall and muscular as he was, towering over us and forcing
everyone to literally look up to him, I don't think he's ever had trouble
getting people to obey his orders.

I liked that about him, and felt drawn in by his confident, steel blue eyes
whenever he looked at me with his notoriously stern, dead serious
expression. I just felt the urge to follow his orders, to trust him to
decide what was best for me, what I had to do, and simply do it. John was a
natural born leader, someone you wanted to be in the good graces of,
someone you wanted to please as best as you could, to have by your side,
and never against you.

And now he was going to fuck me in the ass.

Bastien held me tenderly as we kissed, while John spit on his hand, smeared
it all over his thick dick, and then proceeded to penetrate me in a single,
steady thrust, in a demanding way I wasn't sure I was able to live up to.

But I was lucky the Canuck had worked my hole so loose already, and that
the copious amount of cum he had injected in me had me lubricated enough to
let the foreman in. But damn, that was a fucking fat dick if I've ever seen
one. And it was pulling me apart from inside, more and more, never fucking
stoping to let me catch my breath, just more and more foreman dick up my
hole as he got closer to me, and I felt his body heat geting nearer, until
his chest was finally pressed against my back.

And as I felt his hips pressing against my ass I gasped, his dick now
completely inside me, making me fall into a slight panic not much different
from the one Bastien had me in when he first tried penetrating as well.

The Canadian noticed I was tense and embraced me tighter, pushing his
tongue into my mouth in a french kiss, muffling my moans of pleasure and
discomfort as he tried his best to make me feel taken care of.

"How come you're still so fucking tight?" John said smiling, and as I
flinched, he protested. "Come on, open up for me. Take it like a man, you
little bitch."

And then he let go of my hair and began fucking me to show he meant
business. I understood I had no option but to relax, to ignore the pain and
focus on Bastien's sweetness, to let the blond hunk use my hole as hard as
he wanted. The only way out was through.

And weirdly enough, I loved it.

For a moment there I thought he was gonna break me. I felt a little scared,
I had never had to please such a thick dick, and I had never been used by a
guy so fucking horny, so determined to fuck me as hard as humanly
possible. I moaned in pain and disbelief, but somehow enjoyed the
thoughtlessness of it all. It made me feel so low, so helpless, like my
sole purpose was to let him abuse my ass, no matter how hard it got.

All I wanted was for John to feel good.

And at the same time Bastien held me against his rock hard pecs, and
stroked my head while letting me rest it on his broad shoulders, shushing
into my ear and making me feel so loved, so protected, so cared for. Fuck,
it was like half my body was burning while the other half was touched by a
nice summer breeze, and the contrast of these two ways of loving someone,
of these two different sexual mindsets I found equaly arousing, was a
sensory overload.

I couldn't think, I couldn't react. All I could do was give in, moaning and
groaning in a way completely out of my control. I just felt like I was
rightfully theirs, and gladly accepted anything they did to my body.

I had never felt so submissive.

And as I moaned, lost in the haze of pain and pleasure, feeling goose bumps
from Bastien's small kisses on my neck as John slapped my ass and pulled
its cheeks apart, groaning and repeating filthy slurs at me, I felt I was
close to cumming for the second time.

"Take that, you piece of shit. You fucking dumb whore, is this what you
like? Hm? Is getting a hard dick up you hole what you like, you dirty
motherfucker?" John went on and on, screwing me harder and harder, and as I
groaned in response, unable to answer his questions, Bastien shushed me and
tried to calm me down, and smiled so handsomely that I couldn't help but
relax my hole even more, to which the foreman responded by fucking me even
faster, even deeper, even harder.

I was trapped in a vicious circle. And I felt my prostate contracting,
tensing up and preparing to spasm in just a few moments.

That feeling scared me a little. I wasn't used to feeling so aroused, to
being fucked so hard that I could cum handsfree, and tried to grab my dick
again to jerk it off, and finally have a complete orgasm this time around.

But the men in charge had other plans for me.

When John saw me reaching for my cock, he grabbed both my wrists and pulled
them to my back, holding them firmly and rendering me even more helpless,
dead set on the idea that I shouldn't be touching myself.

"Forget that," he mocked me, "You have other things to worry about," and
stuck his dick very deep up my ass, just to make a point.

The Canadian stud, on the other hand, noticed my dick begin to throb,
begging for attention, arched his brow and laughed, as if mockingly saying
"Ah! I see what you want..."

And I didn't understand if he pitied me, or if he wanted to further my
despair, but he began caressing my dick very, very gently, his calloused
fingertips barely even touching me, but still stimulating me enough to get
me going, although not enough to make me cum, all the while stroking his
own dick, making me feel jealous of how he grabbed and jerked it with his
whole hand, in a strong grip that would surely make him shoot in no time.

I had never dripped so much precum, and Bastien used his light touch to
spread it all over my cock while he gave me small kisses, running his
stubble against my skin, making me shiver with those subtle feelings as
John rammed me on and on.

I lost control over myself, and my moans became louder and louder, my
naturally deep register getting higher and higher as those men teased and
abused me. I was afraid someone else could hear me, and ashamed of how
unmanly I sounded, and tried being quieter, or at least moaning like a man
instead of panting like a little bitch, but failed miserably every time
John thrust his cock against my prostate one more time. They had
successfully turned me into their little slut, and were making me lose
grasp of my surroundings as they kept torturing me in the sweetest, most
merciless way possible.

And as I lost my mind, my awareness was completely reduced to a single
thought: how bad I wanted to cum. I opened my mouth, trying to beg them to
have mercy on me, but the only word I managed to utter in between unmanly
moans and sighs was "please."

"Please, please, please..." I kept repeating, unable to speak a full
sentence out loud, unable to articulate how much tension I felt on my
contracted prostate, on the very edge of spasming and making me shoot my
load, but still not there, then even closer still, but not there yet, then
closer, but not enough, and so on, and so on...

"Please, please..." I cried. Please let me cum.

And when John squeezed my wrists even tighter, slowed down and began
dicking me in longer, deeper movements, I realized he was about to feed me
my second load that evening.

"Are you ready?" he asked, right before getting his cock all the way up my
ass in a fell swoop, ejaculating inside of me in a wet, hot, hard and
throbbing mess.

I wished those seconds could last forever, I wished I could stay in that
position, being used like that, hearing the young foreman groaning and
losing control as he shot his load after having screwed me so hard. I don't
know if there is anything more fulfilling than feeling a man plant his seed
deep inside me like that, in such an intimate way, like our very souls had
been entwined when I felt a nice, warm sensation taking over me from deep
inside my guts and volley after volley of John's sperm flooding me as he
emptied his balls, which were so painfully full of cum after being denied a
hole to fuck for so long.

That feeling was too much for me to handle, and Bastien's fingertips' touch
finally became enough to push me over the edge. But as soon as I shot my
first rope of cum, the Canuck stopped fondling my dickhead and instead
began slapping it left and right, ruining my second orgasm in a row and
laughing about it in a sadistic, but nevertheless incredibly handsome
way. I tried begging again, but my mind was a complete blank, and I watched
with eyes wide open how pleased the Canadian was to see my dick uselessly
swinging up and down, and he stared at me, deep into my eyes, with a
challenging expression, as if saying "What are you going to do now, hm?"
and rejoicing at the fact that there was simply nothing I could do but
surrender my body to his twisted little game.

And then he came.

And Bastien leaned his hips forward, getting his cock right against mine,
and rolled his eyes and grinned in the sweetest of ways as he began
covering me in his cum, while John kept groaning and having orgasmic
spasms, slowly letting go of my wrists as his body became limp, overwhelmed
by the relaxing sensation he had been chasing all this time.

The sun was almost completely down now. We all stopped and remained
motionless for a long while, breathing hard and embracing each other,
enjoying the afterglow of sex as all that cum ran down over my body,
messing the men's pants as they held me in their strong arms, giving me
little, thankful kisses in the neck every now and then. Both of them were
hugging me, resting their heads on each of my shoulders and inundating my
senses with the manly, musky smell of their sweat as they tried to catch
their breath and the forest fell into a peaceful silence once again.

The birds had stopped singing, and the only sound we could hear now was
that of the other guys in the distance, laughing and singing in preparation
for a long night of whiskey and brotherly love.

And then they let go of me, and I stretched my sore muscles, noticing how
red my skin was after being battered by both of them.

Bastien smiled at me once more, then looked down at my dick, and noticed I
still had a raging boner between my numb legs. Apparently, two ruined
orgasms in a row hadn't been enough to calm me down, and my cock was still
stubbornly demanding to be taken care of, resolutely decided not to go down
before it too had its turn to feel good.

"Putain," the Canadian laughed, "elle est insatiable cette pute, non?" he
mocked me while pulling his pants back up, which his muscular thighs made a
somewhat tricky task.

John turned me around to see what he was talking about and laughed at my
hardon. "Good," he said, almost back to his usual angry tone, "you still
have a lot of work ahead of you. Let's head back to camp. The guys will be
happy to see what I found for them in the woods."

And after asking me to hand him all my clothes except for my boots, he
dragged me naked to the camp, anxious to let everybody know they now had a
hole to fuck whenever they needed.

I was scared. There was a rock in the pit of my stomach, and my heart was
beating very hard as I wondered how in hell I would be able to take all the
boys in the camp. But Bastien seemed to notice my reluctance, passed his
arm over my shoulders and tried to cheer me up, smiling and trying to say
something with the few words in English he knew.

"It's OK," he said in his very thick accent, "I will help you."

And as I rested my head on his shoulder, I looked to the sky and noticed
the first stars begin shining over our heads.