Date: Tue, 27 Mar 2018 19:59:06 +0000
From: Devon Campbell <peterbilt1228@live.com>
Subject: Return to the Beach House

**130 - Return To The Beach House

                                Return to the Beach House

I returned to the beach house in the winter, when there was snow on the
ground and the edge of the lake was frozen. The woodcutter had been there;
the metal rack on the deck was piled high with firewood.  I let myself in
and tossed my bag on the couch then carried in several armloads of wood.  I
wasn't disappointed that the next cabin was empty, although it would've
been nice to see Michael again. But he wasn't the reason I'd come. I used
dry kindling from the iron pot beside the fireplace to start a fire then I
took some pork tenderloin out of the freezer to thaw for supper. When the
fire was blazing good I put the coffee pot on, then took a deck chair out
on the rear deck.  I never got the coffee the way my grandmother made it
but it wasn't bad.  I grabbed a blanket off the couch, took my coffee and
went outside and wrapped up in the blanket in the deck chair.

The cold was crisp, perfect for clearing the head, and my head needed
clearing.  I hadn't fully recovered from my earlier experiences at the
lake, with Michael and especially with Pete. Despite that venture into
man-to-man sex, I still didn't believe I was gay. I'd dated several girls
in the interim and even fucked two of them, yet hardly a day went by that I
didn't think of Pete.  I was loathe to admit it but he was the reason I'd
returned, although I didn't know exactly to what end.  I couldn't be sure
he would even be there in the winter, and if he was, what was I going to
do?  I had no plan of action. As I sat with the cold wind blowing off the
icy lake, I tried to organize my thoughts and figure out just what it was
that I needed to get straight in my head; and why I was there.

"If I am gay, what then?" I said aloud. I thought back, still hanging my
hat on those dates and the girls I'd fucked. That should be proof enough
that I was straight. But there was the gnawing in my gut that neither of
those times had been what I expected. There was something missing but I
couldn't put my finger on it.  And there was the dark place in my head
where I'd imagined Pete was the one fucking the girls while I watched. And
here I was at the lake and there were no girls around.

I sat gazing at the wooded hills on the other side of the lake, wondering
if he was there.  Perhaps he stayed year round, or perhaps he didn't come
at all in the winter.  A few tiny lights appeared to be flickering through
the thick evergreens and I imagined that one of those lights might be his.
Yes, perhaps he did stay year round. Maybe he was up there in that big old
house all alone. A chill went through me at the thought.

I downed the last of the coffee, cooled by now, and got up from the deck
chair. I was tired and hungry. Inside, I turned on the lamps and started to
fix a tenderloin that I would eat by the warmth of the hearth, then go to
bed.  Sleep was one of my ways of escaping my thoughts and doubts.

Suddenly I heard a racket outside.  I peered out the window over the
kitchen sink to see a young man dumping a leather carrier of firewood on
the deck of the cottage next door.  He left it and disappeared around the
side of the cottage.  Moments later he returned with another carrier and
dumped it. He made several more trips then began stacking the wood in the
iron rack similar to the one my grandparents had. I watched him, forgetting
all about making supper.  He looked to be in his late twenties or early
thirties; it was hard to tell the way he was bundled up with the wool cap
covering much of his face. But the way he was bundled up didn't hide the
fact that he was well put together and very agile and energetic.  When he
was finished stacking the wood he stood back to survey his work then he
looked in my direction, no doubt noticing the light in the window. He might
have seen me in the window, I couldn't be sure.  I stood back a little but
I could still see him jump over the side of the deck and come my direction.
He came up on the deck stamping the snow from his boots.  I met him at the
door before he had a chance to knock.

"I saw your light.  Thought I'd better see if you're staying, if you might
need more wood."

"No, I'm good," I said. "But thanks for checking. Are you the regular
woodcutter?"

"Yeah.  Well, my dad and I cut the wood, but I make the deliveries."

"Are the people next door coming to the lake?" I asked.

"I don't know, but I contracted to furnish them wood so I thought I'd
better get it delivered just in case. I'm Kyle, by the way," he said,
putting out a strong, rough hand.

"Randy," I said, taking his hand in a firm handshake.  "I've got fresh
coffee made if you'd like to come in.  Or cold beer."

"Coffee sounds good."  He came inside and closed the door behind him.

"Sugar or cream?"

"No, I'm straight," he said.

I thought it was an odd reply. I poured his coffee and turned to hand it to
him.  He took it in one hand as he pulled off his cap with the other,
revealing a shock of dark, unruly--almost curly--hair, and a ruddy, tanned
face.  He unzipped his jacket too, showing a thickly corded neck set in the
middle of wide shoulders.  He had a stubble of beard that made him look
even more rugged, and some dark hair sticking above the collar of his
T-shirt.

"Good coffee," he said after taking a couple of sips.

"You should taste my grandmother's coffee.  I've never been able to match
hers even though she's showed me how a dozen times.  This is their cottage
but they don't come here in the winter."

"I've never met your grandparents," he said.  "Been doing this since I was
a kid and I've never met most of the people we supply wood to."

"Hey, have a seat on the hearth if you wanta get warmed up," I told him.

"Thanks.  Mind if I take my coat off?"

"No, make yourself comfortable."

He pulled off his jacket and laid it over the back of a chair, now
revealing how heavily muscled his shoulders were, and how his arms filled
out his shirt sleeves. He looked solid. He went over and sat on the wide
hearth and stretched his legs out in front of him, one boot cocked over the
other.  I saw how massive his thighs were, packed in the worn jeans, and I
found myself noticing the bulge that bunched up at his crotch. I looked
away, hoping he hadn't notice, and wondering why I was noticing this man so
intently.

"Man, you've got a good draw on this fireplace," he said as he moved away
from the hearth to stand closer to the kitchen counter.  "It heats this
place like a furnace."

"Or maybe it's your wood," I said.

"Nope, it's the draft in the fireplace, I don't have wood," he said as he
grabbed his crotch, laughing.

I laughed too, but it was nervous laughter; I didn't quite know what to
make of him.  Such remarks made in the locker room wouldn't have been out
of place but in the setting of the cottage, with a stranger, it seemed an
odd thing to say.

"Fuck, I've barged in on you making supper," he said suddenly, setting his
cup on the counter. He had noticed the raw tenderloin and the buns. "I'll
be on my way.  Thanks for the coffee," he said as he reached for his coat.

"You don't have to leave," I said quickly.  I hoped I didn't sound panicky,
but I didn't want this guy to walk out the door.  "I was just fixing a bite
to eat, why don't you stick around; I'll throw another tenderloin in the
skillet."

"No, I should be getting back."

"Really, you didn't barge in, I invited you in. Here, I'll heat up your
coffee."  I quickly finished filling his cup with hot coffee to lure him
back.  "Or we can switch to beer," I said.

"If you're sure it's not intruding," he said.

"No, I'm glad for the company," I said as I got another tenderloin out of
the freezer.  Then I got another, thinking that one wouldn't be enough for
him.  He had a lot of body to feed.

"All right, if you say so," he said as he draped his jacket over the back
of the chair again. "You've got it real warm in here; if it's okay, I'm
going to shed this flannel shirt."

"You can shed all you want.  Take off the sweatshirt too if you're too
warm."  I watched discreetly as he shrugged out of the flannel shirt, the
way his shoulders bunched up.  I tried not to ogle him as he took off the
sweatshirt.  His T-shirt pulled up with it, displaying an incredible set of
abs that stood taut and rippled with the movement.  He tossed the
sweatshirt over the chair and tugged the T-shirt back down and I averted my
eyes for a moment to regain my composure.

His T-shirt might have been a size too small or he was simply bursting out
of it.  He sure filled it out.  I had noticed his strong hands, now I saw
his thick, muscular forearms and his massive upper arms, obviously
well-toned from handling an ax and sledge hammer.  Strangely, he took note
of me.

"Do you work out or is that sports built?" he asked.

I laughed. "You're asking me if I work out?  Look at you."

"I lifted in high school but I get plenty of exercise cutting wood to keep
me in shape now."

"You must cut a hell of a lot of wood," I said, averting my eyes before I
gave myself away.  I didn't realize I was rattled till he spoke up.

"Your skillet is hot, are you going to put the tenderloins in?"

"Oh, yeah."  I quickly turned back to the stove and put the tenderloins in
the skillet and turned the heat down.  "You ready to switch to beer?" I
asked.  I didn't admit that I wanted a good buzz, for him and me both.

"Sure, if you are," he said.

I went to the fridge and bent down to get two beers out and tossed one to
him.  He snatched it out of the air and checked the brand before he popped
the tab.

"Ah, premium stuff," he said.

"My grandpa drinks only the best."

"And he keeps it stocked for you?  Cause if you need to replace it, I'll be
glad to get it for you."

"No, he doesn't care if I drink his stash," I said.

He voluntarily stepped forth and started putting the stuff from the fridge
on the table while I tended the meat.

"You like yours well done or rare?" I asked.

"I like my meat almost raw."

"Then yours is done," I said and took it out of the skillet and tossed it
on a bun.  He straddled a stool and fixed his tenderloin but waited till
mine was cooked.

"My grandpa used to tell me that the tenderloins they used to serve at a
café we went to was really sliced horse cock," he said with a soft
chuckle.

"Do you think it was true?" I asked.

"I don't know. When my grandpa told a story he pretty much stuck to it.
But if it was I've eaten about a mile of horse cock in my lifetime. And it
was good and tender."

"Hey, I'm glad you happened by," I said as I joined him at the table.

"Are you?  So am I."

"Do you ever take wood to the houses on the hill?"

"Yeah.  There's one guy I don't deliver the wood to. He's got plenty of
timber, and I cut it for him.  I've only seen him briefly a couple of
times; strange that he hires me to cut his wood, he's got muscles in his
shit."

"I think I know the guy you're talking about," I said.

"You know him?"

"I've met him. His name's Pete. He came riding by on horseback last summer,
bareback, wearing a swim suit.  He's huge. I've never seen anybody built
like he is.  Do you know if he's staying the winter; I've seen lights over
there."

"I don't know, maybe he comes for weekends, like you."

"I'm glad you came by."

He smiled.  "You must be, that's the second time you've said that."

"Oh, is it?  I must be drinking my beer too fast."  But I downed the one I
had and went to the fridge to get us two more.  "But I really am glad you
came by."

"So am I," he said in a measured tone.

When I straightened and turned around he was looking at me with a funny
grin.  Not just looking at me; he was eyeing me.

"What?" I asked.

He pushed his plate aside with some of his meat left on it.  "I said I
didn't have wood, but I gotta tell you, watching you bend over in those
jeans......that's enough to give anybody wood."

"Well, you've certainly surprised me," I said.

"Have I?"

"Well, I wasn't expecting that," I said.

He decided to finish his food and I sat with him. When he had downed his
second beer I got him another one.

"I won't be able to drive home," he said.

"There's the couch," I said.  "And no, it wouldn't be an intrusion if you
stayed the night."

He put the stuff away in the fridge while I washed the dishes.  Then he
went to stoke the fire. He was acting like he did intend to stay.

He did.  I was surprised, yet I wasn't.

We finished our third beers and I tossed the bottles then went into the
bedroom to get the extra blankets and pillow that my grandmother kept in a
trunk.  When I returned he was taking off his boots.

"I'll warn you, this isn't the most comfortable place to sleep," I said as
I spread the blankets over the couch.  "It's where I sleep when I'm here
with my grandparents." I stopped short of asking him if he wanted to share
the bed.

"Comfort is not a requirement for me to sleep," he said as he stood and
undid his belt.

I knew I should leave him to undress but he didn't seem to have any qualms
about it and I was drawn like a magnet to stay.  Stalling, I went over to
check the door.  When I turned back he was pulling off his jeans.  He
tossed them over the chair.  I hoped he would take off his t-shirt but he
didn't. Instead he stretched out on the couch and pulled the blanket up.
In that brief moment I was mesmerized by his teeming masculinity.  His
massive bare thighs, his awesome butt packed in his briefs, his upper
body....Godd, he was hot!  And why was I thinking another guy was hot!! I
shrugged it off, told him goodnight and went in the bedroom.  I left the
door open.

I couldn't sleep.  Not with Kyle on the couch, and then there was Pete,
possibly up there in the woods, haunting me.  I woke up to the sounds of
Kyle stoking the fire and adding more wood.  Then it was quiet again.

After a short while, enough time for Kyle to get back to sleep, I got up
and went through the living room to the door.  Kyle was sprawled on his
back, one muscular arm and leg laid off the couch. A bird in the hand is
better than a bird in the bush.  I moved slowly past him, drinking in the
sight of him. I cursed my lack of courage.  I stood at the door looking out
across the lake.  I stood there for a time, absorbed in my thoughts.

"Why don't you just go over there and knock on his door."

I jerked around, startled. "What? I thought you were asleep."

"No more than you," he said as he drew his leg up on the couch and laid his
arm across his chest.

"Why don't you go knock on his door," he said again.

"I don't know him well enough," I lied.

"Well, if you don't, you want to, that's pretty obvious," he said.

I scowled at him, surprised and a little frightened that he was seeing
through me.

"You don't know it, dude, but you are sending out vibes like volts of
electricity."

"Am I?"

"All the way from the bedroom," he said.

I turned back to the deck as he was getting up off the couch.  I knew he
was coming toward me.  The next moment I felt his body heat.

"You said you came here to sort things out.  What's going on in that
handsome head of yours?"

"I.....don't know."  I was barely to get the words out.  Then I felt his
hand on my bare shoulder. His grip turned me around so I was facing him.  I
was sure he could hear my heart pounding. The warmth from his body was both
comforting and frightening.

"I think maybe I do," he said, and he put one hand around my shoulder, the
other around my side.  "Wanta see if we can find out?" he asked, his voice
deep and sexy.

I felt dizzy as he pulled me to him.  His warmth turned to heat as his bare
chest pressed against mine, then the rest of his body.

"In case you're wondering, I've encountered guys like you before," he said
huskily as he brought one hand round the back of my head.

I closed my eyes just before his lips pressed against mine.  I whimpered
and groaned, not pulling away.

It was a hard kiss, filled with passion, or lust, I wasn't sure which, and
it didn't matter.  His tongue caused sparks against my own and I found
myself devouring his mouth.  I felt his hand inside my briefs, taking hold
of my cock.  His own cock pressed hotly against my thigh through his
shorts; he was hot and throbbing.

He finally let our mouths part.  "Does that clear things up any?" he asked.

"I don't know.....or made it worse.....but either way, I don't care."

"Good. Just so you know, I'm straight, but I take my sex wherever and
whenever it's offered." He laughed softly as he took us over to the hearth.
It was warm; the coals still undulating red in the fireplace. He sat on the
hearth, leaving me standing, and leaned back on one arm and spread his legs
our before me.

Oh, dear Godd, was he offering himself to me? I was so excited I was
shaking.

"I....I'm not sure....what you have in mind," I choked.

"I've drawn you a picture," he said with a wave of his hand over his body.

That was all the invitation I needed, and I didn't need instructions. I
went to my knees on the thick braided rug and ran my hands up his solid,
hairy thighs.

"I like that, going after what you want," he said, placing his hand gently
around the back of my head.

"I didn't know for sure what I wanted," I said. "Or what you wanted," I
added.

"I did, for both of us," he said.

I didn't ask him how he knew; I didn't want to know right then what had
given me away. I let him push my face into his briefs. He didn't have total
wood but his cock was alive and like hard rubber and was expanding fast.
He smashed his shorts into my face rather roughly.  I didn't mind. I didn't
mind either when he pulled the front of his shorts down and pushed my face
against his bare manhood.  He was huge! His cock pulsated against my lips
and I began licking the underside of it, moving up the shaft.  He moaned
when my tongue lashed around the underside of the head and his cock swelled
even more.

"Take it," he said gruffly.  "You know you want to."

He was right; I wanted to.  I took hold of his cock and pulled it
straight. It was a handful, and the head was going to be a mouthful.

"You've done this before?" he asked.

I nodded as I lapped up the precum and he eased his grip on my head. I
milked his cock to bring up more precum; he tasted good.  When I could get
no more I went down on him.

"Ohhh, fuck!" he moaned softly, and leaned back across the hearth on both
arms.

I was in a state of heavenly bliss as I sucked his cock with thankful
reverence.  It was the first opportunity since my last trip here and I was
indeed thankful that he had appeared on the scene.  For the moment I forgot
about Pete.  I did think about the girls I'd fucked since last time and
frightened myself a little with the realization that I was enjoying this
more. I was not experienced enough to deep throat his eight plus inches but
I gave it the best I had and he seemed more than satisfied with my efforts.

His cock was a magnificent piece of work.  Thick, with a network of bulging
veins that pumped the life blood into it, causing it to pulsate and
throb. He was so hard I could even feel his heartbeat in the veins.  I had
devoured the taste of his precum and was working to make him cum so I could
taste his very essence.  I didn't remember if I liked the taste of cum but
I did recall that I liked the feel of a hard cock....Pete's hard
cock.... exploding in my mouth.  The taste didn't matter; it was the thrill
of the event that I was after.

He stopped me several times so he wouldn't go off.  Finally, he asked, "Do
you want to take this to the bedroom and get up off your knees?"

Of course, the stones of the hearth were uncomfortable. I got to my feet
and turned toward the bedroom and he followed me. I was suddenly totally at
ease with this man who I barely knew.  I didn't know what he had in mind to
do but I didn't have to be told to take off my shorts.

"Godd!" he whispered as I was taking them off.  I looked around at him.
"Your ass is giving me wood again."

"You had wood before I took my shorts off," I said.

His manliness was near breathtaking; his presence in the room was almost
overwhelming.  He was so male!  I must have been staring.

"OK?" he asked.

"What?"

"Do you like what you see?"

"Yes.  Yes," I replied.

"What all do you like to do?  Or hasn't that been sorted out yet?"

"I.....don't......anything, I guess....."

"Good, you're not afraid to discover new things."  He came around the bed
toward me.  "That answer just placed you in my capable hands."  He took
hold of my cock and put his other hand on my hip.  His hand felt very
capable as he stroked my cock.

"Nice.  Very nice."

"Thanks." If my cock was nice, his was awesome.  It stood out at a sharp
angle, boasting its own virility.  Each throb ended in a violent quivering.
I didn't touch it.  I felt it might overpower me if I did and I was already
weak with lust.

"You remind me of when I was your age," he said.  "I've been around the
block a few times; let me show you what I've learned."

"I didn't think you're that much older than me," I said.

"Twenty eight," he said.  "And four of those years were in the Navy."

"That would get you some experience, I suppose," I whispered. I was sure he
thought I was a virgin and I intended to let him think it.

He pulled me into another hard, passionate kiss, this time our naked bodies
writhing together, our cocks getting acquainted.

"Do you fuck?" he whispered in my ear as he nibbled on it.

"I will, for the right guy," I said.

"Next question......"

"You're definitely the right guy," I assured him.

"Good. I'm going to breed you."  He smiled and added, "You don't know what
that means, do you."

"Not....exactly," I said.

"There's a difference between breeding and fucking.  Fucking involves a
condom.  I'm breeding you. I'm going to pump my seed inside you, try to get
you pregnant."

"If you do, what should I name it?" I joked back.

With a deep chuckle he eased me back on the bed with one knee between my
legs. He forced my legs apart with both knees then lifted them up to his
hips.  I was in a fog now, thinking of how it'd been with Pete. I was
fearful and anxious at the same time.  He turned me up and told me to hold
my legs apart then he spat on his cock and spat again in the crack of my
ass.

Somehow I didn't expect any foreplay from this man and there was none. He
positioned the head of his cock against my hole and shoved.  Not a lunge,
but a hard, steady shove and thrust that sent the bulbous head of his cock
bursting through my hole. I had braced myself for it and although I was
expecting pain I sucked it up, remembering the intense pleasure from before
with Pete.

"Fuck, man, your ass fits my cock like a glove," he said as he nudged
harder against my butt, his cock throbbing hard deep inside me.

The man was overpowering to me.  His muscular body hovering over me, his
arms and shoulders bulging under the weight of his upper body.

"You ready to get fucked?" he asked with a cocky grin. He was a man
confident in his manhood.

"Yes," I said, nodding.  My voice was weak.  I was in submission to him,
body and mind.  "OHhh," I moaned softly as he gave me the first stroke of
his cock.  "Awwhhh," again, as he began to fuck me.  My moans came in
rhythm with his thrusting cock and my body soon took up the same rhythm as
I humped my butt up to accept his plunging cock. The pleasure was
incredible, enough that I abandoned all thoughts of girls.  I even lost my
thoughts of Pete for the moment. Several times my moans became whimpers,
and that made him smile.

"I think you like getting fucked," he said.

"I haven't had much experience but I like you fucking me," I said.

"This isn't your first time," he said.  It was an observation, not a
question.

"No.  It happened once before.  How did you know?"

"There was no shock.  Your eyes didn't pop out of your head when I went in.
And for a virgin, you were pretty damned willing."

"You've had me close, Kyle, several times," I warned.

"Don't fight it.  Let it fly.  I'm long winded; I'll keep on fucking you
and make you cum again."

But I did try to hold off.  I wanted it to last, and I wasn't sure I would
still want it after I shot off.  But he was good, and he showed me no
mercy.  He wasn't the least bit cooperative about helping me hold back. He
kept making it better and better till I was about to scream a bare moment
before I shot off.  I saw black and stars dancing on the black when he took
me over the top. Then the most incredible thing happened. In the throes of
my climax I felt him cumming.  His warm cum shot deep inside me, breeding
me as he'd promised and that prolonged my climax.  It was like I was having
a second orgasm right on top of the first one. He saw that I was about to
lose it, about to cry out and he quickly clamped his mouth over mine. His
tongue lashing against mine sent harder jolts through me and I think I did
scream and he swallowed it.

He held himself tight against me for what seemed like a long time, till I
stopped shuddering.  I was a mess. When he rose up, my cum clung to us like
glue.  He smiled down at it. He held for a moment longer then straightened
and eased his cock out of me. He was smiling.

"It must have been good for you," I said.

"It was great.  And it was the first time I ever fucked a guy cross-eyed."

"What do you mean?"

"When it was getting really good, your eyes crossed."

"Fuck, no!"

"Fuck, yeah.  It was cool."

I wondered if that'd happened with Pete.  I hoped not.

"I forgot to light the water heater, I can't offer you a shower," I said.

"Don't worry about it. Look, I hate to make this a fuck and run but I
really need to get back. It's snowing again and my dad will be worried."

"I understand."

"I hope we can do this again sometime."

"Anytime my grandparents aren't here," I said.  I got up with him,
tightening my ass to keep his cum from draining out of me.

"I hope I helped clear some things up for you."

"You did, thanks.  I'm glad you picked this time to deliver the wood."

He laughed. "I'm the wood cutter, you're the wood giver."

"I wish you could stay."

"Me, too, but......."  He was gathering up his clothes.

I got a towel and wiped my cum off his upper body. I was making a fuss when
he said, "Don't worry, it won't be the first time I came home smelling like
cum."

I watched him get dressed, regretting every piece of clothing he put on
that hid his body from me.

At the door, he paused.  "The other time....was it him?" he asked, nodding
toward the lake.

"Yes."

"He must be some stud for you to be pining away like you are."

"He's pretty incredible," I said.  "But so were you."

"Then don't let the opportunity slip by. I'm guessing he thought you were
pretty incredible, too.  I know I do. That was an awesome fuck."

I watched him disappear in the blinding snow, thinking he should have
stayed till it stopped.  I watched him drive off and my thoughts turned to
the lights on the hill.  I pondered whether I should go up. It was late,
but not that late.  And it wasn't so far to go. Even through the blowing
snow I could make out the tiny flickers of lights in the dark of the trees.
The memory of the magnificent stud on the magnificent stallion compelled
me, and almost without any conscious thought I was getting dressed.  I
stopped, remembering the hard sex I'd just had with Kyle, and how I must
smell.  I lit the water heater for a shower.

I waited till the water was barely warm then showered and flushed out just
in case, then put on some good smelling body splash. Bundled in my
sheepskin coat and sock cap I went out on the rear deck and skipped down
the stairs and headed around the curve of the lake.  It was frozen around
the edges. It was a beautiful dark and angry landscape.  I wondered if he
would be there.

The distance was farther than it appeared. It was a half hour walk to reach
the bottom of the long, steep stairs leading up to a house that I only
guessed to be his.  I hopefully assumed it was, drawn by the lights in the
windows.  At the top of the stairs I went across the wide turnaround drive,
to another set of stairs leading up past the garage. At the top of the
stairs I could see inside a large enclosed porch.  It was stacked with
wood.  I was so scared that the hand I brought up to knock was shaking. I
knocked loudly so it would be heard past the porch, then I was scared
shitless when I heard footsteps. So scared that I almost ran. But then the
inside door opened and there he was, filling the doorway with his massive
silhouette. He had on heavy wool red-top socks, very snug fitting, gray
boxer briefs and a flannel shirt, open down the front with the sleeves
rolled up around his huge biceps. My heart fluttered and thudded in my
chest at the mere sight of him. He tromped across the porch and opened the
outer door.  He had a scowl on his face till he saw and recognized me, then
he smiled.

"Randy!" he exclaimed. "What're you doing out in this weather?"

"Out for a walk; it's a beautiful night," I said. "I saw lights and thought
I'd take a chance that you might be here."  I was so impressed that he
remembered me, even my name.

"Well, you found me.  Come in, come in."  He stood back for me to come in
and waved me on into the kitchen.  He followed me inside and closed the
door behind us. He laughed and said, "You look like the abominable
snowman."

"The snow is sticking," I said.







This is Pete

 "Give me your coat and hat," he said.  I snatched off my sock cap and
handed it to him and was unbuttoning my coat.  "Better take off your boots
and socks, too.  And, hell, your jeans. They're caked with snow. You're
going to be wet clear through when it starts melting."

"I should go back out on the porch," I said.

"No, you're fine.  It's only snow; it'll mop up when it melts."  It was
thrill enough that he recognized me immediately; I couldn't believe I was
in his house and taking off my clothes. He took my clothes as I handed them
to him.  When I was down to my shorts and sweatshirt he saw that my shorts
were damp too.

"Come on back to the bedroom, I'll get you some dry clothes."

I followed him through the kitchen and living room into his bedroom,
illuminated only by the light from the living room.  He laid out socks and
shorts, the same as he had on only the shorts were white, and then he left
me.  When I came out I saw that he had hung my wet clothes over the backs
of chairs in front of the fireplace.

"Here, wrap this around you till you get warmed up." he said, as he grabbed
a blanket and threw it around me.  He pulled it snug and gave it a little
tug, pulling me into him.

"It's great to see you, man," he said as he motioned to a big chair close
to the fireplace and I sat down. "Give me a minute, I'll fix you a drink,"
he said. "You like bourbon?"

"I don't handle the hard stuff too well," I said.

He went into the kitchen and came back with two glasses and handed one to
me.

"Whiskey and coke, it'll go down easier," he said. He went over to sit on
the oversize couch, farther away from the fireplace.  He sat in a slouch,
his broad shoulders taking up about half the back, his massive thighs
splayed apart as if to purposely display the large bulge in his shorts.

I took a sip.  It was good and I took another.  "I bet you think this is a
woman's drink," I said.

"Nope, it's a drink for a man who doesn't handle straight bourbon too
well. It's good you know your limits."

I took another sip of my drink.

"Hell of a night to be out; that snow looks sloshy," he said.

"It is.  It was soaking through my clothes pretty fast."

"You here with your grandparents?" he asked.

"No, my grandparents seldom come in the winter. I came to get away by
myself."

"That always interests me, how people say they're getting away.  Getting
away from what? Whatever it is they're getting away from will be there when
they get back, if in fact they don't bring it with them."

"I wondered if you would be here.  Do you stay year-round?"

"I come and go year round. I've got a place in the city for when I'm
working but this is where I like to park my ass. I don't like the city. I'm
a loner as you can pretty well guess. I don't like people."

"Maybe I shouldn't have come," I said, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.

"No, no! I'm glad you came," he said quickly. "I didn't mean I'm a
hermit. I don't like people in general--the hustle and bustle--doesn't mean
I don't like company."

"What kind of work do you do?" I asked.

"Jack of all trades, I guess you could say.  Lot of different trades," he
said over the top of his glass.

"Sounds mysterious."

"Well, officially, I'm a construction worker. That's what I put in the box
on my tax return."

"That fits you," I said.

He smiled, "Yeah, people naturally expect a hulk like me to be in
construction or some other rugged occupation."

"I'm curious, but I won't ask what else," I said.

"I don't mind. I also do some modeling."

"That sort of fits, too, yet it doesn't," I said.

He laughed and cocked his head.  "What do you mean sort of?"

"You've definitely got the looks and the body, but it doesn't fit your
rugged persona."

He laughed again. "I never imagined I had a persona," he said with his head
cocked.

"What kind of modeling? Have I seen you in magazines or catalogs and not
known it?" I asked.

"Mostly runway, for stuff like jeans, slacks and
shirts. Underwear. Swimsuits. I've had a few jobs where I've modeled live
for department stores, in store windows, as well as private showings for
buyers. Done a couple of college art classes. Those were nude."

"You must be pretty well known," I said.

"Not really, I don't advertise and I don't have an agent or anything. Just
word of mouth. Kinda like you did some modeling for that guy in the next
cabin, didn't you?"

"Yeah, that was a total fluke," I said, laughing. "I didn't know there was
anyone else around when I went running down to the lake stark naked."

"No wonder he wanted to paint you, or draw you.  I recall you had a great
body.  Still do."

A warm flush went through me.  "Thanks. Nothing like yours, though."

"We're two different body types," he said with a shrug.

"That's for damn sure."

"It was a fluke how I got started, too," Pete said.  "We were working at a
site downtown, hot day, shirts off, the ladies were ogling us, some of them
were taking pictures, when this guy comes up and tells them they can't be
doing that because they're infringing on something or other. Hell, we
didn't care if they took pictures; it was kinda flattering. But then he
comes up to me and hands me his card; says he would like to represent me."

"That was a lucky break."

"All luck.  It could work the same for you, just being in the right place
at the right time."

I scoffed and took another sip of my drink.

"Seriously, with a couple of the right connections you could break into
modeling work. When you get to college, check out the art department and
photography classes; they're always looking for models. I might even be
able to get you lined up with some work through my connections if you're
interested."

"I don't think modeling fits my persona either," I said.

He got up then and came over to get my glass. I downed the rest of the
drink and handed the glass to him.

"Same?" he asked.

"I'm good."

"I know you're good," he said with a sly grin over his shoulder.  "Do you
want the same drink?" He didn't wait for an answer; he went to fix me
another drink.

I didn't need it but I took it. I was feeling a good buzz, partly from the
beer earlier. I need the courage, though, and I could nurse it to keep the
buzz going. I just didn't want to make a fool of myself.

"Hey, I'm really glad you came, Randy," he said as he plopped back down on
the couch. "I didn't know when or if I would see you again."

"You might as well know, Pete, you're the reason I came up to the cabin." I
was surprised how easily the words came out, but the booze helped with
that.

"I'm flattered."

"It's not flattery, just an admitted truth.  A truth that comes after a lot
of soul searching, and some liquid courage," I said, holding up my drink.

Pete took a couple more sips of his drink before he spoke again. "After
coming all this way, and me being the reason you came, I'm sitting here
wondering what it'll take for you to come the rest of the way," he said in
a low tone.

"I don't know what you mean.  The rest of the way where?"

He smiled and patted the couch.

I was thrilled at the invitation. "You mean over there? By you?" I asked.

"Yes."

I downed the rest of my drink and went over to the couch. As I was sitting
down he put his arm around my waist to pull me close to him.

"Had enough liquid courage?" he asked.

"You're intimidating," I said.

"I don't mean to be. I want people to be comfortable around me and be
themselves. I want you to relax and be yourself."

"I don't know yet exactly who that is," I said.

"Too much soul searching can be confusing," Pete said. "Sometimes it's
better to let everything take its course and find the answers at the end of
the road.  I'm not a shrink but what I'm saying is, you found the courage
to come here, now let it play out; you might find the answers you're
looking for."

It sounded like an open invitation and I took it. "You sound like a
shrink," I said as I lay my hand on his bare thigh. It was solid but made
more so when he flexed the muscles for me. The feel of his leg made me
shiver.

He laid his hand on my thigh and said, "You're still cold. Come on, let's
get you warmed up."

"No, I'm fine, that shiver was from touching you."

"But your leg is cold.  Come on; let's get you under a warm shower."

I quickly relented. I let him pull me to my feet and I followed him into
his bedroom. I was a little slow getting naked because my hands were not
very steady. He turned on the shower, waited till the water was warm, then
motioned me in. He handed me a bar of soap and I started lathering up,
across my chest first, then my arms and then my shoulders.

"Want me to help you with your back?" he asked.

I was barely able to get the words out. "If you want to."

He pulled off his socks and tossed them on the bed. Next, his shirt, then
his boxer briefs.  I was mesmerized watching him strip naked and I might
have uttered a soft gasp when his cock swing free. I had forgotten just how
big he was. I stepped back to make room for him but he came in behind me so
I got most of the warm spray.

"That feel better?" he asked, rubbing my shoulders and arms.

"It feels good," I said, but I wasn't necessarily talking about the water.
His hands on me felt wonderful.

"You just stand there and soak it up," he said as he took the soap and
began lathering my back and shoulders.

There was absolutely no doubt that I was going to get hard but it didn't
matter; I was sure he would to. I didn't believe he had come in the shower
just to wash my back. He didn't stop with my back.  He washed up and down
my sides and on down to my butt. It was interesting and exciting that he
paid careful attention to my asscrack, deep in, rubbing his fingers several
times over my hole. I had the feeling the shower was more than to warm me
up; he was getting me ready. Then he dropped down on his haunches and began
rubbing the lather up and down my legs.

"You can rinse off now," he said as he stood up.

I turned around, facing him, to rinse the soap off of my backside. I
thought he might be going to wash the front side but he put the soap back
in the soap dish. I retrieved it.

"My turn," I said.

He smiled and turned his back to me. I had to reach up to wash his broad,
heavily muscled shoulders. His back tapered down to a trim waist and from
there I wrapped my hands around his awesome butt muscles. As he'd done with
me, I was careful to wash deep in the crack of his ass, rubbing his asshole
with my soap slick fingers. He jutted his butt back and then surprised me
by reaching back and pulling his butt apart.  I washed him good. I squatted
down to wash the thick towers of his thighs and on down his calves. The way
his butt was still jutted out I was sorely tempted to bury my face in his
ass but I refrained. Then I stood and moved aside to he could rinse off.

When he was finished....he was still facing me....he asked, "Finished?"

I nearly choked on my reply but I bravely managed to get it out; "Unless
you want me to do it again," I said, and I began lathering up his chest.

He shivered when I ran my slick fingers across his nipples.  "The way you
rub my tits like that sets me off," he said.

"Sounds like a personal problem; all I'm doing is washing your chest," I
said as I rubbed my hands all over his wide, thick pecs.

He twisted sideways to rinse the soap off then grabbed me by the back of my
head.  "You little tease; you got `em all hard and swollen, now give them
some TLC," He pressed my face against his right pec.

Our height difference allowed me stand with my head barely tilted to lick
and suckle his turgid nipples. He laid his head back with soft moans. As I
moved to the other one, then back and forth, I felt his cock lift and press
against my thigh. My cock had already come to life and feeling his cock
touch my thigh was like an electrical shock that jolted my cock.

He laughed and said, "Hey, it's supposed to be my cock that's hotwired to
my tits."

I pressed the side of my face against his chest and wrapped my arms around
his waist.  "Godd, Pete, you are so big and incredibly hot," I whispered as
I nuzzled my face into his armpit.

"You've got a lot to do with the rising temperature," he said as he wrapped
one powerful arm around me in a tight hug while he lifted the other one to
give me free access to his hairy armpit.  "I can't tell you how glad I am
that you came."

"I want you so bad, Pete, in every way possible. Tell me what you want me
do, or show me. I'll do it. Anything. You can make me your slave."

"I don't need a slave, and this is not all about me. I'm yours too, Randy,
to do whatever you want.  Well almost," he added with a chuckle.

"There's so much of you, I don't know where to start," I said.

"Right there, what you were doing," he said and pressed my face against his
chest again.

I loved sucking his tits and had a fleeting appreciation for a baby wanting
a pacifier.  Only his firm nipples weren't pacifying, they were charging
me. I reached down for his cock. It overflowed my hand, throbbing
violently.  I had forgotten how big he was. I stroked it as I sucked his
tits. He was hot wired all right.  At the center of his chest I moved
downward, exploring the deep ridges of his stomach muscles, plastered with
wet hair.  Further down, the hair tapered to the center ridge, forming his
treasure trail. On bent knees I followed it to the bush that spread our
around his cock that throbbed up against my chin.  I kissed all around,
bypassing his cock to move into the warm apex of his thighs, nuzzling his
balls.

"If you don't get there soon........"  His voice was husky, sounding
garbled, perhaps from the water spraying in his mouth.

I smiled inside; maybe he was my slave. I gave his huge cock a glance and
moved my lips on down the inside of his thigh, down to his knees. I kissed
all around his muscular knees then began the trek up the inside of his
other thigh. When my head nudged his heavy balls I clasped my hands around
his hips and turned him around.

"Aww, fuck!" he groaned.  I didn't know if it was because I'd skipped his
cock again or in anticipation of what I was about to do. I spent a long
moment squeezing and admiring his solid, awesome butt before I pressed my
face against it.  He flexed and relaxed the twin muscles in response. I
pressed my hand against his lower back and he took a stance bent over with
his feet apart as far as he could and bent slightly with his butt jutted
out for me.  I pulled it apart and lapped my tongue up the crack.

"Ohh, fuck; you're gonna do it!" he moaned softly.

I concentrated on his hole when I found it, causing him to groan aloud. I
didn't fully understand the strong attraction for his ass but I was so
filled with excitement that I almost wept.  I didn't completely understand
either why I felt completely in my element. If anyone had asked me in that
moment if I was gay, I would've replied with a resounding yes.

I pulled his butt apart and licked up the crack, dragging my tongue slowly
over the puckered hole.  He reached back with a hand around my head to push
my face tighter.  I dug my fingers deep in the crack to stretch his hole
open then drove my tongue inside him as far as I cold.

"Awwwwh, fuck, yeah; do it!  Eat my ass!"

Gladly! I devoured him with slobbering abandon. I couldn't get enough; not
just eating his ass but having his awesome butt muscles in my hands. After
several minutes of rimming him I turned him around again, ducking under his
cock that was sticking out like a battering ram.  I was poised to take it
in my mouth when suddenly he cupped his hands in my armpits and pulled me
to my feet. I wanted to cry out, "No, Don't! Let me have it!"

"Let's take this back to the couch, Randy," he said as he was turning off
the shower.

He grabbed a towel and dried me off, then himself, then he led me back to
the living room to the couch.  He sat me down and went to stoke the fire
while I slouched there ogling his incredible ass; nearly panting with want.
Bent over like that, I was ready to crawl across the room and eat it again
but I stayed where he'd put me. He had denied me his cock for some reason;
he had his own plans.

He took the time to pour us each another drink. At first sip mine tasted
stronger than before. He set the bottle on the side table and held his
glass down in a salute. Our glasses clinked together then he downed his in
one gulp.  He stood there, holding his empty glass, waiting for me.  I
bravely downed mine and handed the glass to him.

"That was straight," I said.

"Yup."

He set the glasses with the bottle then he half sat, half lay on the couch,
and pulled me to him so I was half lying on him between his massive
thighs. His cock was hard against my side.

"Fuck, you are so hot," he said in a hoarse tone, laughing softly.

"I love watching your stomach when you laugh," I said, laying my hand
lightly on his hard abs. He laughed again and I felt the rippling
muscles. "I love watching you, period.  Even when you appeared in the
doorway I almost choked."

"If you're gonna choke there oughta be a reason," he said, rubbing his big
hand over my shoulder and arm.

I ran my hand up across his chest, feeling the mat of soft hair and his
nipples.  He shivered when I touched them and he put his hand around my
head when I pressed my face to his chest

"Suck `em again, will you?" he asked in a husky voice.

Hell, yes! I twisted around and licked around his left tit. He moaned and
pressed my face against his chest. His nipple came to life, hardening under
my touch.

"Mmmm, you're making them both throb," he murmured and took my hand to
place it over his other pec.

I kept sucking his tit and rubbing the other one and I was awed by his
massive chest but I was anxious for his cock.

"That's not all that's hard," I said as I pressed against his throbbing
manhood. I twisted more onto my side and traced the outline of his cock.
"I can't believe how big you are," I said.

"You handled me last time," he said.'

"Do you want to fuck me again?"

"Is the pope Catholic?"

"Can I finish what I started in the shower first?" I didn't wait for his
answer; I scooted down between his legs with my feet over the other arm of
the couch. I didn't waste any time, I went straight for his cock. I had to
pull it upright to take it in my mouth. I was still awed that I could do
that; he was so big.

`"Godd, yeah," he moaned.  "You are the best."

He let me suck him for only a short time before he pulled me up again to
lie across his muscular body. My head lay on the right side of his chest
and his shoulder and he held me in his arm.  His bicep was so solid it made
a poor pillow but I didn't complain. He laid his right arm diagonally
across my upper body, his hand clasped lightly around the side of my butt.

"I just want to hold you like this," he murmured. Then, "Did I tell you how
glad I am that you came?"

"You mentioned it. But I can't help wondering why. I never imagined you
would give me a thought."

"Truth is I didn't except for fleeting thoughts now and then.  But when I
opened the door and saw you standing there it all came flooding back; that
incredible time on the beach."

"I've never stopped thinking about it, and you," I said.

"Don't stay away so long next time," he said.

"I won't, now that I know I'm welcome."

"I want to make you feel more welcome than you've ever felt in your life."

"You're doing that right now," I said.

"Oh, you haven't seen welcome. Just wait. How long can you stay?"

"As long as you want me to."

"That could be a very long time."

"I don't want to overstay my welcome," I said.

"When I get tired of you, I'll kick your tight little ass out in a
snowbank."

I left his chest and kissed down the slope of his hard abs. His stomach
reminded me of pictures I'd seen of the Apian Way. I thought he might have
other plans but he let me proceed downward a short way further till I felt
his cock against my chin.  I bypassed it and kissed alongside it till my
chin was in his pubes. I scooted down further on the couch to nuzzle and
suckle his heavy balls.  They were massive; just one was a mouthful.  He
spread his legs for me, letting one over the side of the couch.  I gave
each of his balls equal attention while I watched him slowly stroke his
cock.  From that angle it was more massive than before. I marveled that I
was ever able to take it in my ass.  I left his balls and kissed my way up
the underside of his cock. It quivered and throbbed under my touch.  Up
several inches I got a taste of precum that was trickling down the shaft.
I licked it off, moving further up his cock. He held it up for me and when
I reached the top I took the head in my mouth.  I was rewarded with a small
gush of more precum.  I savored it and sucked out more.

"You are so good with your tongue," he said.

I nodded and gave him more of my tongue.  I loved the way his cock bolted
and twitched under my touch. As I sucked him slowly, even reverently, I
went to my knees on the floor. He turned on the couch so I was between his
massive thighs. I went to my hands and knees and devoured him.

"You don't have to be on your hands and knees like that," he said in a
kindly voice.

I lifted my head to say, "I want to be here. You're like a god to me,
Pete."

"Don't say that. I'm a man, like any other man.  Not so much different than
yourself, in fact."

I guffawed around his cock that I'd gone back down on.  "Not like any other
man I've ever met," I said.

"I do want to fuck you again," he said.  "Would you be ready for that?"

"Yesss! But please, let me suck you a little more," I pleaded. "I'm in love
with your cock, you know."

He granted me a few more minutes of suck time before he eased me off and
got up off the couch pressing on my shoulders then the small of my back to
keep me in place. He came around behind me and knelt down. He wasted no
time.  I felt the head of his cock against my hole with the warm spit he
dropped on it.

"I hate how this must feel going in," he said as he applied pressure.

"I don't," I said. "It's part of the game.  Like football.  You know you're
gonna get knocked on your ass but you get up for more."

"Is that what this is to you; a game?"

"There's always the victor and the vanquished," I said.

"And which are you?  Which am I?"

"That depends on your point of view.  You probably think you're the victor,
about to vanquish my body.  But in the end, when you've shot your load in
me and you're breathing heavy, you are the vanquished, and I am the victor
with your spoils inside me."

"You're very astute for your age," he said.

"You bring that out in me."

The whole time we were talking he was working my asshole with his cock;
rubbing the clenching muscle, pushing against it to get me ready.

When he thought I was, he said, "Push out with your asshole; I'm going in."

I did and he told me to do it again, and I did, several more times.  I
could feel my asshole gradually confirming to the curvature of his
cockhead, welcoming it, even begging for it to slide through.  When it did
I gasped a soft groan as he spread me apart unmercifully.  He clasped his
hands around my shoulders for leverage and slowly entered me.

"Godd, you are so big!" I moaned.

"Somehow, I think you wouldn't have me any other way," he said.

"No, anything smaller wouldn't match your body," I said.

He held onto me and shoved all the way in; his great cock burrowing deep,
shoving aside anything in its path.  He shoved past the spot where I
thought he reached bottom and burrowed deeper.

Yess! He was going into that space!

"Ohhhhh!" I cried softly as a strange sensation came over me.  "Ohh,
Godd!....Ohhh, Godd!....Yess!" He was causing a white-out; like my mind was
being seared with lust, then it turned to black and I saw tiny
stars. "Fuck, Pete, I can't believe anything can feel so incredible!" I
hissed.  His hard loins pressed against my backside and his cock bucked and
throbbed deep inside me.  Way deeper than it had any right to be, I
thought.

"You ready to be fucked?"

"Just hold onto me," I whimpered and I got the same sensations as he slowly
pulled his enormous cock back through my insides.  Then he eased back
through, into that white space again. He did it a couple more times then I
said, "Fuck me, Pete."

As he began to fuck me I buried my face in the cushion of the couch and
clung to it like a life preserver.  I choked on my outcries and stifled my
whimpers in the cushions.  It was incredible the way his cock spread my
insides, and my ass all the way in clung to it as it slid back and forth
through the quivering chamber. I prayed to keep my sanity.

I didn't know how long he fucked me; I lost all track of time and reality.
I was barely aware when he pulled out and turned me over onto my back on
the floor.  He sent me into the realm of black lust again as he arched up
over me and drove his cock down into my ass. I was stretched and loose
enough that there was no pain now; it was more like my ass sucked him in.

Godd, I'm turning into a total slut, I thought.  I told him that.

"You're turning me into a slut; I can't get enough of you and your big
cock," I said.

"But you're my slut," he said with his handsome smile.

"Do you really think of me as a slut?"

"No, I was only quoting you.  No, you're a beautiful, hot blooded teenager
with the courage to go after what you want.  Most boys your age would cower
before me."

"I did," I said.

"I couldn't tell."

"You are so intimidating."

"Do you feel intimidated now?" he asked as he fucked me.

"No. Because I know I'm giving you pleasure, too."

"That you are. Do you care if I cum?" he asked.

"No, that's the whole point, isn't it?"

"I meant inside you," he said.

"I'm your slut; being your cum dump is part of being a slut, isn't it?" I
said.

He was apparently working it up when he asked. He picked up his pace and
fucked me harder.  He nailed me to the floor. He wasn't brutal but he
fucked brutally.  I happily endured his brutality. When he started cumming
I saw stars again. His cock bolted steely-hard inside me and I could feel
the stuff surging through his cock. An instant later he was flooding my
insides with his hot semen.  There was so much of it!  He kept fucking me
and his cock caused a backwash of cum to gush out of my ass.  I almost
screamed from the pleasure of it, unaware at the time that the intensity
was made greater by my own climax.

Pete hovered over me for a long moment before he lowered his body onto me.
His warm, hard, sweaty muscles felt wonderful sliding against my cum-laden
upper body.

"You shot a mighty fine load," he said huskily in my ear.

"Not as fine as yours. It felt like a hose turned on inside me," I said.

He lay only for a moment before he clasped one arm around my waist.  "I'm
too heavy for you; let's change positions," he said and with that, he
rolled us over so I was on top.  He pulled me down on top of him and held
me in his massive arms.

"Was the woodsman out making deliveries in this weather?" he asked.

"Yes."

 "Did he make a delivery to your cabin?"

"Yes."

"I suspect he's very good at delivering his wood."

"Yes.  If you're asking.....yes, he does a mighty fine job delivering his
wood."

"I thought I felt him when I slid in.  You were pretty relaxed and well
lubed."

"I'm sorry you got sloppy seconds," I said.

"Don't be.  It was a pleasure following him.  Maybe we can arrange for him
to come up and join us sometime."

"What....part would he play?" I asked.

"We could take turns with you if that would be to your liking," Pete
replied.  "Would you like that?  Or maybe I could get him drunk and you and
I could take turns with him."

"I doubt that.  He's too straight-studly and macho," I said.

"People would think that about you," he said.  "I certainly did when I
first saw you."

"And I was, or thought I was, till you came along."

"Why would you doubt it now?" he asked.

"Because I have a different outlook on things.....people.....I look at men
differently than before."

"Different, how?" he asked.

"Before, I looked at men like you in an admiring way, not with any feelings
of lust or want.  Now I see a well-built, good looking man, or boy even,
and in my head I'm wondering how he looks naked; how he would be in bed."

"I would like to introduce you to some guys I work with.  I know you would
like them."

"You're not talking about models you work with," I said.

"No, construction guys," he said.

"When can I meet them?" I asked jokingly.  But I wasn't joking.

"I'll try to arrange something."

"How tall are you, Pete," I asked then, "and how much do you weigh?"

"I'm six-four and 248 pounds."

"Godd, that is huge! How big is your cock? In inches? Have you ever
measured it?"

"Yes, when I was a boy and saw that I was out pacing other boys my
age. Since then.....well, let's just say it has been measured on more than
one occasion."

"And?"

"Eleven inches; a tad more on a good day, and almost eight inches around,"
he said.

"Godd, that's enough cock for two men!" I exclaimed.

"No, I'd say it's about right for a man my size. Were you serious about
meeting some of my co-workers?"

"Yes."

"How about I invite a couple of them here?"

"Absolutely, if things wouldn't get out of hand."

"They're just big, rugged men; not brutes," he said.

Quiet set in and it was awkward; I was afraid I'd overstayed my welcome.
"I should go," I said.

"Why do you have to go?"

"I don't want to overstay my welcome," I said.

"You haven't.  Stay the night, why don't you?"

That surprised me and it must have showed in my face. "You really want me
to?"

"If I didn't, I wouldn't have asked. You don't have to get back for
anything, do you?  The woodcutter isn't come back??"

"No.  Alright, I'll stay.  Thanks."  My voice was weak; I couldn't believe
this magnificent stallion of a man wanted me to stay the night with him.

He eased me off and stood up and pulled me to my feet.  He turned out some
lights then led me into the bedroom.

"I have a fetish; I get the right side of the bed," he said as he crawled
in bed.

"I think you probably take up most of both sides," I said.

"Don't worry, there's room," he said, lifting the blanket for me to get in.

I crawled in and he laid the blanket over me and then wrapped one powerful
arm around my waist and pulled me tight against him.

"See, I told you there's room."

I couldn't get my head wrapped around where I was; in bed with the most
incredible specimen of manhood I'd ever seen, or even imagined, and he was
holding me like a lover.

"How do you like your eggs?" he asked.

 "Over easy.  Why"

 "Orange juice, cranberry or tomato?"

"Cranberry."

"Dry toast or butter?"

"Dry."

"How do you like your coffee?" he asked.

"Black.  What is this?""

"I'm an early riser; in more ways than one," he said with his incredible
smile.  "When I rise I'm gonna fuck your brains out.  Then while you're
recovering from the onslaught I'm going to make you breakfast."

"Godd, you make me shiver just talking about it.  You're going to destroy
my ass, aren't you?"

"Pretty much.  But not beyond repair," he joked as he pulled me tighter.

He was warm against me; against the cold outside and I soon fell asleep.

				  The End

You may contact the author at peterbilt1228@live.com