Date: Mon, 12 Mar 2001 19:00:55 -0800 (PST)
From: Billy Jay Dee
Subject: Wood Chips -- Chapter II by Billy Jay Dee

Wood Chips: Chapter II

by Billy Jay Dee

As the dark winter days settled deeper onto the
Alaskan landscape, I saw very little of Jeff. We ran
into each other occasionally in town.  Once, before
the cold snap in December, we got together for lunch
and a long, hot afternoon at his cabin out the road.

It was just before the skunk cabbages started poking
their yellow heads out of the muskeg that I heard from
him again. My wife had taken the kids to the youngest
one's first swim meet in Ketchikan. The phone rang
right after I got home from work.

"Hey, it's Jeff," said the low, husky voice when I
answered. "You need any more wood chips? It's
getting warm enough to work on your yard again."

"Yeah, it is. And I could use some," I responded. My
hand slid automatically to my crotch. Damn, the man's
voice was sexy, even in casual chatting.

"Well, how 'bout tomorrow you come out and I give you
a load, Bill," he said, a malicious laugh punctuating
the double entendre. "It builds up some -- the wood
chip pile, I mean."

"That would be great." My cock began to harden and
twitch under my prodding finger. I didn't want to wait
that long.

"Tell you what, Jeff. I'm pretty much free tonight if
you're going to be home..."

"Hell, yes," he almost shouted. Such enthusiasm. He
must have been pussy-less for a long time now.

"I'll be out as soon as I grab a bite to eat and
shower, okay?" I tried to keep my voice cool and
steady, but somehow the last word came out as a
nervous squawk.

A gobbled ham sandwich and lick-and-promise shower
later, I was speeding long the curving, Sitka spruce
lined nine-mile stretch to Jeff's place.

Even in my rush, I remembered to take my digital
camera and the "rubber toys" Jeff seemed to like when
I introduced them to him back in October. We had shared
a motel room in Seattle for two nights and did some
major erotic exploration.

It was dark at 7:00 p.m.  Only a front light was
visible at Jeff's place on the pot-holed gravel road.
It was nice for early March, that is the wind wasn't
blowing the rain up under your Hailey Hanson. A dog
barked at the house closer to the water, a good
distance away.

Jeff came out the back door onto the small deck and
called to me. He was wearing blue jeans and a white
T-shirt. Even in the dark, lit only by the light
streaming from the upper windows, I could see his
muscular figure was as trim as ever.

"Hi, c'mon in," he said in a very friendly tone, his
voice husky.

"Hi, I brought some stuff for you," I said, holding up
the plastic grocery bag containing a six-pack of beer,
the rubber toys, a tube of lubricant and my camera.

We went in through the sliding door to his bedroom,
which is always neat and clean. A handmade quilt
covered the bed and strange, tacky plaques hung on the
wall. A lamp on each side of the bed provided light
that not visible from outside through the blindless
windows.

He led the way to the kitchen, a compact area with a
nook for a maple dining table bearing gingham design
plastic placemats on two sides. The adjacent living
room is all glass in the front, sparsely furnished
with a large sofa and chair. A huge stone fireplace is
at one end with an antique muzzle-loading rifle over
the mantle. A nice fire blazes there. No TV set. A
long coffee table has a monstrous philodendron with
long tendrils hanging out over the ends. Youâ??d
expect the plant to be long dead and the place a mess,
but the handsome stud has eighty year old â??lady
friendâ?? he stops by to take care of him and the
house every Wednesday.  Itâ??s rumored he takes care
of her on the same afternoon.  A huge 10-point
deerhead trophy is the only wall adornment.

As he put my beer in the fridge and retrieved two for
us, I noticed he was clean shaven. He had worn
a moustache or a beard and moustache the last several
times we met. He is ruggedly handsome -- a big nose,
small mouth, square dimpled chin and dark bushy
eyebrows. His ice blue eyes hold no mystery -- they
are boldly honest. I noticed he had developed a very
slight "beer gut" just in recent months, but that
would no doubt disappear with the outdoor activities
encouraged by the warming spring days. When he handed
me the beer, he reached between my legs and squeezed
my dick and balls.

I commented about his clean-shaven face, running my
hand over his cheek. He looked into my eyes -- blue to
blue.

"Take your pill?" he asked, smiling.

"Yeah," I said, feeling the heat rise in me while he
massaged my growing hardon. I reached for him and
found
his semi-hard dick.

"Um," he groaned. I leaned into him and could smell
soap and a very light after-shave. After a minute of
hugging and rubbing, I pulled away.

"We have some time tonight," I said. "My wife is
staying in Ketchikan until tomorrow."

"Good," he said, sitting down at the table and taking
a sip of beer.

We talked for a few minutes about what we'd been doing
for the past four months. He suggested we go into the
bedroom. I agreed and followed him back. He went into
the bathroom to take a leak.  I could hear his groan
of release and the harsh tinkling as I started to
undress. I had brought the camera to the bedroom, but
forgot the toys. By this time, I didn't care. My pulse
pounded and my cock ached to be released.

I watched him in the bathroom across the hall while I
undressed. He came into the bedroom his pants undone
and his semi-erect dick poking out just as I was
taking off my shirt. He had on white jockey shorts and
his dark dick contrasted beautifully with them. He
stripped in no time and was lying on the bed gripping
his hardon -- now straining at its full eight inches
-- while I pulled off my socks and bikini shorts.

I wanted to go right for his dick, but tonight I
figured I'd extend our foreplay. I lay down halfway
atop him and began licking and nibbling his earlobe
while I played with his chest hair. I could feel his
very hard cock against mine and his warm balls on my
upper leg.

I kissed his cheeks and forehead and eyes, then a
brief, soft touch to his lips. Sometimes he turns his
mouth away at first, but then lets his lips return
hungrily to mine. I went to his chest and sucked his
right nipple.

"Ooooh, yeah," he groaned. "Feels good."

I nibbled the small pencil eraser tip of his nipple
and moved to the left one while I lightly fondled his
cock and balls. I slid my tongue down his hairy belly
and plunged it into his deep navel. He moaned and
twisted beneath me. I could tell he was very hot. His
cock throbbed in my fingers and his breathing was
ragged.

When I got to his dick, I said, "Let me take some
pictures now."

He agreed readily, putting his arm across his face to
disguise his identity. He knows I may show them to "my
friend" on the Internet. I took three photos of him
with his hardon poking up. The camera got a little
shaky by the time I got to the last one. If my dick
was considerably longer, I would have had a tripod. In
lieu of that, I set the camera up on the dresser for a
timed exposure and got into the picture sucking his
cock for two shots.

Then I went to work in earnest on his dick and balls.
I held the base of his stiff prong in my fingers
tightly and licked at the swollen dark purple head. I
eased back and watched as I pressed my thumb upward on
his amazingly prominent cumtube, extracting a brief
flow of nearly clear precum. I licked the shaft
downward from the wide, drooling head. His cock juice
had no taste at all, but the musk of his crotch was
like a heady perfume.

I then went to his dark wrinkly ball sack which is
almost totally devoid of hair despite the extreme
hairiness of all the surrounding area. His balls are
naturally that way. He doesn't shave them, of course.

I sucked on the right one which is larger than the
left, as big around as a ping pong ball. Then I
slurped in the other one. There was no way to get both
fat nuts into my mouth.

Suddenly, Jeff began to tug on me, twisting me around
in bed so he had access to my cock. His usual love was
licking and nibbling my ass checks then tongue fucking
my asshole in preparation for drilling me.  He has on
past occasions tentatively licked and pressed his
mouth against my cock and balls.  but this time he
began to work on them in earnest, taking my growing
cock allthe way into his mouth.

He pulled me off his cock and had me stand on my knees
while he sucked noisily on my dick and gently squeezed
my balls. Damn, it felt good!

Maybe a little too good. I felt pre-orgasmic pressure
building rapidly in my nuts, so I pulled away.

"Oh, hold it. I'm ready to cum. I don't want to cum
yet," I said. He backed off immediately and I gripped
the base of my cock tightly to keep it from going off.
But I was too late. My cum spurted and flowed, running
down over his hairy chest.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry," I mumbled.

Jeff's blue eyes never batted nor did his broad
hairy chest flinch at the white whip of cum. He
grabbed a tissue and wiped his chest. He then lay face
down on the bed, his hard muscled, very white ass
cheeks raised slightly and his huge cock and balls
poking backward between his dark hairy thighs.

I thought about going to get one of the dildos I'd
brought, but thought better of it.  I decided instead
to work on him with my fingers. I put my index finger
against his puckered hole and slid it in easily up to
the second knuckle.

Holding my breath in hopes that this was what he had
in mind, I turned my finger so that I was touching his
prostate. It was there -- healthy, slightly swollen
and sensitive.

"MMMMMmmmmmmm, ooh," he grunted. His ass rose higher
and I slid in a second finger. "Yeah, oh, oh, Bill,"
he said.

With my fingers still in his ass, I tugged him up on
his knees, lay with my back on the bed and stuck my
head between his legs from the back. I licked his
balls and then began sucking his cock while I pumped
my fingers in and out of his hot ass. He maneuvered
himself so that he was standing on the floor and began
to pump his cock into my mouth very hard, nearly
choking me.

He began growling in a deep voice, "Yeah,
motherfucker, suck that cock. Take it all." I fearedhe
was going to suffocate me so I managed to pull his
widening prick out of my throat until the broad head
rested just inside my cheek. He sputtered and muttered
unitelligibly, still ramming and poking his big rod in
and out of my stretched lips.

I pulled his cock out of my mouth and turned over on
my stomach to get more control. Without asking or
anything, he leaned forwarded, stretched his long
right arm across my body and started cramming his
fingers in my ass.  I jerked back a little in
response, but kept sucking on the head while holding
the shaft with one hand and squeezing his balls with
the other. His left hand came down on my right
shoulder.  He pinned me to the bed while grunting and
groaning and fucking my face.

"Oh, oh, I'm ready," he finally groaned. He popped his
cock from my mouth, gave it two or three quick jerks
with his own calloused hand and it began to spew. I
held my open mouth over it and caught most of his
spurting jizm on my tongue. He gave me four or five
good heavy shots, the most I've ever seen from him or
any other partner!

 One burst of cum he'd carefully aimed into my right
eye by twisting my head with his left hand. The part
that landed on my tongue tasted bitter but not
unpleasant, like the tang of a dark imported beer. I
closed my mouth over the throbbing head to get the
last dribbles of his juice. A bit of the bluish milky
effluent ran down the sides of his dark prick and I
licked it clean.

When I looked up at him, his face was like that of a
saint transported -- his mouth was slightly open and
his twilight blue eyes opened and closed rapidly. He
staggered and almost fell on top of me.

"Ah, that was great, Bill, just great," he said. I sat
up on the side of the bed and he gave me a quick, hard
hug. I felt good.

As we started to dress, I thought about the wood
chips. But I judiciously kept my mouth shut. I could
check on those tomorrow.

The End