Date: Thu, 11 Nov 1999 10:37:07 -0500 (EST)
From: Felix Lance Falkon <falkon@netaxs.com>
Subject: "Lumbercycle" {Felix Lance Falkon} (MM, gay-encounter)

X-NO-ARCHIVE: yes
(except Nifty Archive)

"Lumbercycle" M/M, outdoors in the woods, oral & anal sex

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[Usual warnings apply: no one under age admitted without parent]
[or guardian, for external use only, shake well before using,  ]
[slippery when wet, this end up, use no hooks, wear seatbelts. ]
[                                                              ]
[Copyright (C) 1999 by Felix Lance Falkon; you may save or make]
[paper copies for your own use; do not post, repost, publish,  ]
[or archive except in Nifty Archive without author permission. ]
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(The ** starts emphasis [underline/italics]; * ends emphasis.)
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LUMBERCYCLE

by Felix Lance Falkon

     Jerry steered his motorcycle around one more turn of the
mountain road and braked to a stop where a trail branched off
the highway. His passenger stood up, swung a leg over the back
seat, and looked down at Jerry.

     ``Thanks for the ride; I didn't think anybody'd stop with
me carrying this axe, but I had t' have it for that job in town,
taking down a dead tree.''

     ``Yeah? I sort of wondered; it's early to be cutting
Christmas trees,'' Jerry said while his passenger bent to
unstrap the axe from the side of the BMW. ``How'd you like the
ride?''

     ``Well, you sure surprised me when you took off at the edge
of town,'' said the wool-jacketed young Hercules, ``and after
that it was a wild fucking ride -- really turned me on -- going
fast and having that machine between my thighs -- yeah!'' He
straightened up, axe in his right hand. ``I wish there was some
way I could -- uh -- pay you back for the ride.''

     Jerry sat astride the idling motorcycle, looking up at the
heavy-boned young man. Jerry's glance slid over powerful chest
and arms, on down to Levi's stretched tight over narrow hips.
``Well, Buck,'' Jerry said, ``that depends on how turned on you
are.''

     The lumberjack's eyebrows pulled together in a puzzled
frown. He followed Jerry's gaze on down to the long bulge that
strained against the front of his pants. Buck slid his left hand
under his waistband and shifted his half-hard cock to a more
comfortable position. ``Well, it **was* a wild fucking ride.''
He looked up and met Jerry's gaze, but his hand was still in his
pants. ``Hanging on to you -- feeling you control that brute of
a machine -- yeah!''

     Jerry let his left hand drop to his own crotch and caressed
the shiny black leather there. ``Yeah?''

     ``Up in camp, there isn't a gal for -- I don't know how far
-- and that motorcycle of yours is a real make-out machine,
so . . .''

     ``So don't sweat it; you're hot and I'm here.'' Jerry
gunned the motor, let it growl down to an idle again. ``How
about it?''

     ``Gimme a ride up this trail to the camp, and it's a deal.
There's a place about half-way there --''

     ``What the fuck we waiting for? Let's roll.'' Jerry grinned
-- what he hoped was a hard-faced, tense grin -- and gunned the
cycle's motor. Buck grinned back -- an open, eager grin --
jumped astride the BMW, and slid forward to ram his bulging
crotch hard against Jerry's butt.

     ``Right on up that little trail,'' Buck yelled over the
growl of the motor. He waved his axe toward a narrow gravel road
that wound through the trees. His left arm slid around Jerry's
waist. The big motorcycle roared, leaped forward. ``Go, man,
go!'' Buck yelled.

     They went -- twisting, slithering around gravel-covered
curves -- bouncing, bounding over ruts and rocks. Buck shouted,
and Jerry braked to a halt, killed the motor. The sudden silence
gradually filled with the sigh of wind in the trees, with the
chirps of a few birds, with the chatter of an inquisitive
squirrel.

     Buck released Jerry's leatherjacketed torso and stood up.
Jerry carefully propped the cycle on its stand, then looked
around the little clearing. Sunlight beamed down from an opening
in the trees overhead, warm in contrast to the cool shade.
Woodland smells -- old leaves, mold, miles of pine and fir --
mingled with and began to replace hot oil and leather and
gasoline. Jerry looked around again: trees, more trees, a few
boulders half-buried in leaves and pine needles, but --

     ``Fuck, man; you said you had a place!''

     ``Sure.'' The big lumberjack tossed aside his axe and wool
jacket, started opening the front of his shirt. ``Right here.''

     Jerry opened his mouth; but slowly closed it as he watched
Buck peel off his shirt, displaying thick shoulders, powerfully
muscled arms, and a broad, deep chest. Jerry glanced down the
trail, biting his lip. No one was in sight except for . . . and
he looked again at that splendid physique, now wriggling out of
tight trousers. Buck's prong appeared -- stiffening as Jerry
watched.

     ``Uh . . .'' Jerry licked his lips and tried again. ``You
sure nobody'll come?''

     ``Nobody but us,'' said Buck, kneeling, his broad back
aglow in the sunlight as he untied his boots. ``Guys from camp
don't use this trail much.''

     ``Well -- okay.'' Jerry shucked his blackleather jacket.
``But just remember who's thanking who.'' He stripped rapidly;
in a couple of minutes he stood stark naked beside his
motorcycle. He wiggled his toes in the pine needles, felt a
little shiver go up his back as a breeze slid over his own bare
torso. He watched Buck -- magnificently naked, splendidly nude
-- stretched his body in a muscle-rippling yawn. Jerry looked
down at his own body: lithe rather than bulky. His muscles were
hard and sharply etched, but no match for the broad-chested
lumberjack.

     The motorcyclist smiled and reached for his blackleather
boots. He slid his feet into them, picked up his shiny-visored
cap, put it on. Gloves -- heavy riding gauntlets -- went on
next. Jerry picked up his pants, pulled out his belt -- a
glittering length of square-cut, chromed segments on a broad
leather strap -- and cinched the belt around his slim waist.

     ``How come you're getting dressed again?'' asked Buck.
``Don't you --'' He took a closer look as Jerry straightened up
and faced the naked lumberjack. ``Fuck, Jerry; you look nakeder
with that leather on that you did with no fucking thing on at
all.'' He prong was almost all the way up now, quivering as it
stiffened.

     ``I feel nakeder too,'' Jerry admitted, putting a gloved
had on his own cock. Hard meat throbbed against leather as he
strode across the clearing to Buck.

     As Jerry approached, the young Hercules stepped back a
pace, then another. ``You got a real hard and hungry look with
all that stuff on,'' said Buck. ``We always fuck naked, up at
camp, so this blackleather stuff -- it's a real turn-on.'' He
slid his right hand down the taut ripple of muscle on his torso.

     ``Yeah? Well, you get fucked motorcycle style this time,''
Jerry said, his voice a growl that -- he hoped -- hid his
eagerness. He let his glaze slide over Buck's superbly muscled
body -- more than six fee of naked virility from curly, black
hair to broad, high-arched feet that gripped the ground -- over
200 pounds of bone and hard muscle. Jerry took in details: broad
chest crossed by a taut slab of pectoral muscle; torso tapering
to a strong but narrow waist; massive balls; shaft all the way
up and ready. Jerry leveled his own sturdy prong, pointed it at
Buck's crotch, and stepped closer; now the two shafts were side
by side, a double bridge between their naked bodies.

     Buck's prong was long and thick, an impressive shaft of
hard sex-meat. Jerry's was not as thick, but it went on and on;
a full two inches longer than Buck's.

     Jerry looked up; Buck stared at the side-by-side prongs for
a moment more before he met Jerry's gaze. ``Wow,'' Buck growled,
``you got the longest rod I've ever seen, and we got some real
studs up at camp.''

     ``Think you can take it all?''

     ``It'll really go in deep -- but Hell yes -- that or bust a
gut trying. I'm too hot to stop now,'' Buck admitted.

     ``Well, unless you're hot enough to get fucked dry --''
Buck stepped back a pace at Jerry's words. ``-- you better get
some axle grease out of my saddle bags and gimme a lube job
first.''

     In seconds, the big lumberjack was kneeling at Jerry's
booted feet, smearing on a cool, slippery coating. Done, Buck
sat back on his heels and asked, ``Enough?''

     ``It's your ass.''

     Buck scrambled to his feet and led the way to a couple of
logs that lay in the warm sunlight. He sat down on one, started
to roll onto his stomach, hesitated, then stretched himself out
on his back, shoulders propped up on his elbows, powerful thighs
stretched wide.

     Jerry knelt between Buck's knees, then looked down at the
splendid physique spread out before him. ``Want to watch?''
Jerry growled.

     ``Fuck yes,'' Buck said. He reached down with right hand
and guided Jerry's shaft to its target.

     ``Me too,'' Jerry growled, as his glans touched Buck's ass.
The motorcyclist leaned forward, pushed. Buck was pushing too,
pushing himself onto that impaling shaft. Jerry's glans was at
its target now. Jerry glanced at Buck's face -- strained and
tense -- then looked down at to his probing shaft. He pushed
again -- harder -- and suddenly he saw and felt his glans slip
into Buck. ``Here goes, Buck,'' Jerry said. ``I'm going in --
all the way!'' And, inch by hot, pulsing inch, Jerry drove his
long shaft into the muscular, squirming body that lay at his
mercy.

     Buck was tight and slippery inside, hot and tight against
Jerry's prong. The ring of muscle that guarded Buck's anus
tightened, relaxed, and tightened again as Jerry went deeper and
deeper. At the half-way point, Jerry paused and shifted his
knees closer to Buck, who spread his own knees still wider.
Jerry pulled back a fraction of an inch, then thrust in again --
and on and on till the hilt of his shaft pressed tightly against
Buck's asshole.

     ``Fuck Jerry; you **do* go in deep,'' Buck gasped. He
squirmed, then half-hooked his legs around Jerry's waist.
``You're hitting me just right -- that poker of yours is getting
me red hot!''

     ``Yeah?'' Jerry put his right hand around the iron-hard
prong that jutted up from Buck's crotch. ``You're getting me
pretty fucking hot too.'' He ground his crotch against Buck's
butt, watched Buck's eyes open wide, felt naked thighs squeeze
Jerry's own waist. A magnificent specimen of naked virility was
impaled on Jerry's throbbing shaft, squirming as Jerry pulled
back, then rammed himself in again.

     The naked motorcyclist pulled his hips back and to the
left, swung his lean hips to the right, and thrust in deep.
Jerry's gloved right hand still held Buck's shaft, a convenient
handle to pull the lumberjack's butt tightly against Jerry's
cock hilt. After a few more strokes, Buck began meeting each
penetrating thrust with a twist and squirm of his own.

     The combined strokes of the two men drove Jerry's cock-tip
in a spiral motion. Hot, tight meat rubbed Jerry's glans with
every thrust, and every thrust excited him on to pump harder and
faster.

     Jerry released his grip on Buck's cock with his right hand,
then slid both gloved hands up Buck's torso, feeling the
washboard of Buck's stomach muscles tighten and relax with every
stroke o Jerry's shaft.

     The naked motorcyclist studied Buck's arms and shoulders for
a moment, then slid his hands further up, explored the swelling
arch of the lumberjack's chest and the thick, hard pectorals.
Leather-gloved fingers poked, then pinched Buck's nipples. Jerry
brought his hands on down Buck's torso again, stroking the
ripple of muscle and rib at the sides of Buck's wide chest, and
on down the smooth taper to a narrow waist. Jerry clutched
Buck's hips, fingers digging into hard muscle, pulling the naked
Hercules closer.

     Inside, deep inside the roots of his prong, Jerry felt
muscles tense -- pressure built up, seeking release. Waves of
excitement spread from his organs, setting his nerves aflame as
they swept through his body. He reached the point of no retreat,
pounded on through. Now he was a lust-maddened pile-driver, in
to the hilt -- back -- then in again -- and with each impaling
thrust, Jerry rammed himself deeper into Buck's clutching hole.

     Just a few more strokes -- short, fast, desperate strokes
into the splendid body spitted on Jerry's prong. Buck's powerful
thighs squeezed Jerry tighter as they both tensed for the
climax. Jerry felt his stomach pull in tight, felt his chest
expand, felt his hips pumping -- one more thrust -- and Jerry's
organs erupted, jetting sperm and man-cream deep in the
squirming lumberjack.

     The two naked studs were motionless, every muscle of their
locked bodies straining as Jerry pumped the rest of his load
into Buck. Then -- slowly -- tension faded and the pair relaxed
into an afterglow.

     Jerry raised his head and gJerryd around the clearing.
Pines rustled overhead; wind ruffled his sweat-slick body; he
and Buck were still alone. The motorcyclist looked down at Buck,
studying the young giant he had just finished fucking.

     Buck squirmed his still-impaled butt in a circle; Jerry's
shaft twitched, squeezing out one more spurt into the tight
passage. Buck sighed, ``Boy, Jerry; that was a **real* fuck.
You really got to me, got me going too.''

     ``Yeah? I sort of guessed.'' Jerry felt himself grin wryly
as he put his gloved left hand on Buck's hard cock. ``I was
gonna jack you off while I was fucking you, but . . .'' He
cocked his forefinger and thumb, thumped the rigid shaft,
shaking a pearly droplet from the very tip.

     ``Just as well you didn't,'' said Buck. ``Maybe I shoulda
told you: there's one thing that turns me on hotter than a
motorcycle ride, and that's getting fucked.'' He moved his arms
back to raise his head and shoulders still farther and started
easing himself off Jerry's cock. ``You've had your turn; now
it's -- hey!''

     Jerry's hands moved like black blurs, like bats pouncing on
their prey. Now gloved fingers of Jerry's right hand gripped the
lumberjack's big balls and began to squeeze, while his left hand
tightened around the barrel of Buck's shaft.

     ``Hey! Leggo! That **hurts!!''*

     ``Not half as much as getting fucked would hurt me,''
growled Jerry. ``Getting fucked isn't one of my turn-ons.''

     ``Well, you sure liked fucking **me,* and I'll take it
easy on your ass when -- hey, not so fucking **tight!''* The
muscular lumberjack took a deep breath and glared up at Jerry.
``Ya want me to promise not to rape you or what?''

     ``I'll do better than that,'' said Jerry, glancing from
Buck's anxious face to his sturdy prong. The naked motorcyclist
pulled his hips back slowly, pulling his own prong out of Buck's
butt, and settled down from keeling to sitting position on the
pine needles. Then, still gripping Buck's balls with his right
hand, Jerry bent forward, opened his mouth wide, and --

     ``Hey! Don't!!'' The young Hercules tried to wiggle away
until a warning squeeze on his balls stopped him.

     ``What's the matter? 'Fraid I'll bite?''

     ``No . . . but sucking cock -- that's queer stuff, Jerry.''

     ``But --'' Jerry stared, open-mouthed, and the worried
lumberjack. ``You just let me -- Hey!! Stop that!!'' Jerry
squeezed just in time to keep Buck from jerking out of Jerry's
grasp. Buck yelped, slowly relaxed. ``No more funny stuff --
okay?''

     Buck grunted, Jerry grinned.

     ``Okay, then. Now --'' Jerry bent forward again, between
Buck's powerful thighs. His mouth was opening, the sturdy, half-
hard cock was waiting. Jerry's right hand held Buck's massive
balls; Jerry's left guided Buck's prong to Jerry's parted lips.

     Jerry's tongue flicked out and touched Buck's pink glans.
Indrawn breath hissed through Buck's teeth. Jerry opened his
lips wider; his head dipped lower. His tongue slid over Buck's
glans and under the cleft that separated tip from thick shaft.

     The naked motorcyclist opened his jaws wider and took
Buck's prong into his mouth. Jerry closed his lips around the
barrel of that prong. He slid lips and tongue down, pulled back,
slid down again, all without a hint of suction -- yet. Then, at
the bottom of his next slow stroke, Jerry pushed hard with his
tongue, swallowed, sucked -- **hard* -- at the mouthful of man-
meat.

     Buck gasped aloud. His prong surged, stiffened rapidly in
Jerry's mouth. Still sucking, Jerry lifted his head until just
the tip of Buck's prong was still in Jerry's mouth. Then, still
sucking hard, he went down again until Buck's glans was
quivering against the back of Jerry's mouth.

     For stroke after stroke, Jerry sucked on the muscular
lumberjack's meat. And stroke by stroke, the lumberjack
responded: his thighs tightened around Jerry's chest, his
stomach became a concave ripple of muscle under Jerry's gloved
fingers. And as Jerry sucked and licked and nibbled, Buck's
thick prong hardened, lengthened, thickened, throbbed until
Jerry's mouth barely contained Buck's lusty erection.

     Jerry slowly raised his head, let Buck's glans slip from
his mouth, and looked up to meet the young Hercules's eyes. Buck
was staring back at Jerry, muscles tense, eyes wide, forehead
furrowed between his black eyebrows. Buck's muscles slowly
relaxed as Jerry slid his right hand up Buck's torso, but Buck
still looked worried. Buck's gaze dropped from Jerry's face to
Buck's own hard prong, gleaming wetly, then back to Jerry's
face.

     ``Well?'' asked Jerry.

     ``It -- it's different. I'm -- all I gotta do is just lie
here while you do all the work. It's almost like getting fucked,
only . . .'' Buck growled. ``Queer stuff.''

     Jerry felt Buck's muscles start tensing; he tightened his
grip on the lumberjack's massive balls.

     ``Still planning to rape me?'' Jerry asked.

     ``Not now -- Hey! Not so fucking tight!'' gasped Buck,
carefully relaxing his muscles.

     Jerry laughed, and then went down on Buck's cock again.
With a few strokes, Jerry brought the sturdy spike up to
quivering hardness again. Jerry sucked hungrily, head bobbing,
tongue thrusting and rubbing. Inside Jerry's mouth, Buck
responded eagerly -- getting hotter and harder with every
stroke.

     Buck thrust with his hips, driving up as Jerry's head went
down, pulling back as Jerry's mouth rose. Buck was breathing
heard, with little moans and gasps. Jerry knew that under his
fingers, deep in the roots of Buck's thick shaft, pressure must
be building up, getting ready for the eruption to come.

     **Just a few strokes more,* Jerry told himself, **and this
muscle-stud is going to gonna explode for sure.* Close --
getting closer -- but Jerry abruptly jerked his head up and away
from the young giant's prong. Jerry watched, half-smiling, while
Buck's magnificent organs quivered and jerked right on the edge
of orgasm and then quieted to eager but unspent rigidity. Jerry
ran his glance slowly up the powerfully muscled torso until he
met Buck's own half-hungry, half-worried gaze. Jerry raised an
eyebrow, grinned, and slowly went down on the naked lumberjack
again.

     Thrice more, Jerry took Buck to the brink; twice, he let
the eruption subside. The last time, Jerry sucked until he
realized, **It's too late to stop now; this stud is over the
edge.* Buck was in rut, hips pumping, chest heaving, cock
throbbing. Jerry was hot too, hungry for what Buck was straining
to give.

     ``Don't stop -- Jerry -- please -- **take me* -- suck me
hard!'' the naked lumberjack panted.

     Both of Jerry's hands gripped Buck's thrusting hips; Buck's
hands held Jerry's head, pulling him down to take every possible
inch between his teeth and jaws, down until the broad glans
rammed the back of Jerry's mouth.

     Jerry sucked. He raised his head, slid down, up -- all the
way down on the straining length of hot, hard meat. Buck's shaft
jerked in a rippling spasm. Jerry felt a jet of Buck's hot cream
spurt out, through Buck's prong, and into Jerry's mouth.

     Jerry clamped his lips tightly around Buck's shaft and
sucked; Buck pumped a mouthful of swirling juices deep into
Jerry's mouth. Jerry swallowed and sucked for more. He felt
Buck's body jerk and jerk again, saw Buck's torso squirm, heard
Buck gasp for breath. Buck's scent -- fresh sweat and musky
maleness -- slid into Jerry's nose with every breath. Buck's
lusty eruption -- hot and slippery, salty and bitter -- bathed
Jerry's tongue and throat as he gulped down the virile geyser.

     Another spurt of man-oil; Jerry sucked, swallowed, sucked
for more until he drained Buck's balls dry. Jerry slowly lifted
his head from the still-hard prong, then stood up. He hooked his
thumbs in his belt, looked down at the sweat-shiny,
magnificently-muscled lumberjack and raised an eyebrow in
wordless query.

     ``Fucking queer stuff,'' Buck grumbled. ``I feel limp all
over.''

     ``Yeah?'' Jerry poked Buck's hard prong with the booted toe
of his right foot. ``Well, **some*-fucking-thing sure turned
you on, especially at the end, when I let go of your balls and
you grabbed my head.''

     Buck scowled; Jerry grinned back, turned, and strolled back
to the BMW. He picked up his pants and leather jacket, straddled
the bike, and sat, thinking, pleasantly conscious of his balls
and half-hard prong on the cold leather

     **I could just take off down the trail now. Or I could take
Buck on up the trail. But if I did that . . .* Jerry heard a
foot crunch into the dry pine needles; he turned. Buck stood
beside him now.

     ``Look, stud,'' the naked Hercules said, ``I'm sorry about
-- you know -- and right after you gave me a ride and -- and
everything.''

     ``So?''

     ``So if I promise not to try any more rough stuff and --
and let you fuck me again, will you give me another ride on your
machine?''

     Jerry tried to keep a scowl on his face, but a grin broke
through his control. ``Well -- okay, but if you get hot again, I
get to suck you off. Okay?''

     ``Fuck yes. Lemme tie my axe back on, and then we can stow
our clothes in your saddlebags and . . .''

     ``Huh? You mean -- ride like this?'' Jerry gestured at his
nakedness, felt his prong jiggle, and looked down to see he was
stiffening rapidly.

     ``Sure. This trail's hardly ever used, and there's another
place a couple of miles or so deeper into the woods.''

     Just a few minutes later, the big BMW roared to life again
and charged up the trail -- Jerry in boots, belt, gloves, cap,
and a fresh hard-on -- and Buck behind him, hanging on tight,
wearing nothing but his own lusty erection.


================================================================
[Copyright (C) 1999 by Felix Jerry Falkon; you may save or make]
[paper copies for your own use; do not post, repost, publish,  ]
[or archive elsewhere without the author's express permission. ]
----------------------------------------------------------------

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