Wow! Didn't see that cumming. Years later I can still taste his first load in my mouth.
My log cabin in the woods was almost finished when the truck with my wood flooring arrived. The driver took one look at the hill that would become my driveway and refused to even try backing his trailer up the slope, so I was left with twenty-six boxes of hard maple and only my two hands. The first time I tried to lift one, I realized that I would have to drag them up, one by one, the very definition of "What a drag!"
Then Jim showed up. Being the new guy on the tiny lake, I hadn't met any neighbors yet, but country folks tend to be nice people and after shaking hands he was happy to lend a hand loading the boxes into the bed of his pickup. It only took us about a half-hour to stack the boxes and then unload them into the cabin, but it was a blazing hot August day and by the time we were done, we were both sweating and winded. Well, I was anyway; Jim was shorter than me, but easily twice as strong.
I said the obvious thing after we dropped the last box on the floor. "Thanks, man, I really owe you one. Jim just smiled and said, "Nutthin' to it. You don't owe me anything, glad to help." Still, I told him that if there was anything I could ever do for him, all he had to do was ask.
Jim leaned back against the unfinished kitchen counter and his smile grew even bigger. He didn't say a word, just sort of looked me in the eye and as I stared back I realized he was asking me to return the favor right then and there. How did he know? We had just met. Is there really such a thing as gaydar? Did I do or say something to tip him off? Or was he just kidding around?
There was a momentary silence, then the sound of his zipper coming down as I stared wide-eyed at his tight, dusty jeans. Then he pulled it out and I felt all the breath sucked out of my lungs. He was huge! Long, thick and twitching a bit as a cock will do when it knows it's about to get hard and party. My eyes went from his crotch to his eyes and the major grin on his face. Not a word from either of us. No words were needed.
In what seemed like less than a second, I was on my knees on the subfloor, realizing that I was now the sub, waiting for the beautiful new wood. Except...I didn't wait. I had my mouth wrapped around him in a flash. How could I not? Is there anything in the world hotter than the sensation of feeling a man's cock getting hard in your mouth? Each time I went all the way down, taking him all in, I could feel his meat stiffening, and I realized that it wouldn't be long before I couldn't take him all the way down. But I was sure as hell going to try.
I sucked and tongued his throbbing rod like the hungry cock slut that I am and after five minutes or so, it was becoming obvious that he had control of the situation and wasn't about to blow anytime soon. Needless to say, that was just icing on the cock for me. I licked his shaft, sucked his balls, made love to the head of his weapon with my tongue while my own meat pulsed madly in my jeans. As a connoisseur of cock, I can use my mouth like a tape measure. I was in seven and a half inches of heaven, but still couldn't completely take him down because he was so thick. But no complaints.
It probably wasn't a half-hour, but it seemed like it when he finally gave me my reward. My jaw was sore, but the prize was sorely needed, as I had worked myself up into a yearning that only a cock junkie can understand. When he finally let go it felt like he hadn't cum in a month or more. Round after round of hot, sticky, delicious cum raced across my tongue. He grabbed my head and shoved it down deep, not my favorite way to enjoy jizz, but as I already had a mouthful, what did it matter if he lubricated my vocal cords? When he finally pulled back, I made sure to lick the last drop from the head of his now-softening monster. Etiquette is important.
He zipped up, I stood up, knees sore as hell, and we both took a minute to catch our breath. Then he looked around the empty cabin, spotted my sleeping bag rolled up in a corner and asked, "You're not planning to sleep on this floor are you? Shit, you don't even have a pillow." I told him I'd have to drive halfway across the state to get home, to which he replied, "Fuck no, man, you can stay at my place. I'm just down the road." It was getting late in the day, I was tired from schlepping wood, literally and figuratively and, of course, I was quickly daydreaming of another course. "Yeah, thanks, but geez, you've done enough for me already", I said. He just shot me the grin again.
We sat around talking, had a couple of beers, walked down to the lake, talked about fishing, went back up to the house and shot the proverbial shit until both of us were pretty beat. "C'mon. I'll show you the bedroom. It'll be a hell of a lot better than sleeping on the floor." The bedroom, it turned out, was literally that; the only bedroom. Jim stripped off his clothes while I just stood there transfixed, taking in the splendor of his ripped body and muscular limbs. He flopped onto the bed and said, "Well, what the fuck are you waiting for? What do you think this is? A free hotel?
I undressed, self conscious about my skinny frame, then slipped under the sheet next to him. Almost before my head hit the pillow he was on top of me, rubbing his cock hard against mine, which was like hot steel instantly. He pulled off, upright now, his knees between my legs, pushing them apart. He didn't say a word, he just blew a giant wad of spit in the palm of his hand and greased down his huge hunk of meat. He spat on the tips off two fingers, reached down beneath me and oiled me. Then he grabbed my legs behind my knees, pushing my legs up into the air, and thrust his cock hard into me. The pain was intense. I could hardly breathe. He pulled his shaft halfway out and expertly dripped more spit on it. He pushed back in. It still hurt, but not as much. He started to slowly rock his hips and push deeper into me until my face told him that the pain had turned into pure pleasure. Then he fucked me for real. He fucked me hard, like a machine. It felt like it was going deeper with each thrust. I started to moan in rhythm with the spectacular pounding I was taking. He fucked me and fucked me and fucked me hard and fast until we were both dripping sweat like a beer glass on a hot August picnic table. Then the picnic was over. He slammed into me. It felt like his cock was about to fill my throat from the opposite direction. His body twitched wildly as he unloaded cum into me. He laid still for a moment, still inside of me, but softening quickly. When he pulled out, I could feel cum dripping from my battered hole, painting a wide wet spot on the sheet. We laid on our backs without saying a word. and in a few minutes he was snoring. I fell out quickly myself. In the morning I told him I'd better get to work on the floor. He let out a giant laugh, pushed me down to my knees, and pulled his meat out of his tightey-whiteys. "Get to work on the floor." Did I really say that?
That afternoon, after thoroughly fucking up about ten square feet of cabin floor, I felt a presence behind. I turned and watched Jim surveying the hot mess created by me and a box of finishing nails. "Fuck, dude, you don't know shit about laying a floor, do you?" Then I noticed what he was toting. "Move over, let me show you how it's done." That was my introduction to the machine that bumps each wood slat hard hand into the other, a microsecond before driving a nail in hard wood. I couldn't help thinking about the night before as I watched Jim lay the entire floor in less than four hours. It was a good damned thing, too, because after ripping up and tossing the boards I'd fucked up, we only had a small handful of scrap pieces when he pounded the last one in.
He stood up and looked me dead in the eye. "Hey, about yesterday...I'm not gay or anything. Right? I fuck women, OK? It's just that sometimes I don't like all the work I have to put in before she puts out. Understand?" I nodded my head, broken inside thinking that I'd never get to feel his hard hammer again. Then he unzipped and pulled it out. And I fell to my knees. And I sucked him like the starving cum slave I am. And this time he painted my face with cum before stuffing it into my mouth one finger-load at a time.
Jim fucked me four times the next week and I lost count of how many times he made me drop and suck him off. In September he introduced me to his girlfriend. Jim and I had a couple beers, she downed a couple of glasses of wine and then Jim flopped in a chair and told me to suck his cock. I looked at his girlfriend. We were both shocked for a second, but then she just smiled, pouring another glass of wine. After watching me suck him for a few minutes, she stuck her hand in her jeans and started fingering her pussy. Then she was down on her knees next to me and we shared Jim's cock, finishing the performance with a hot and gooey cum kiss.
And this is how it goes each time I get up to the cabin. She's gotten used to Jim's wide-ranging tastes and loves to watch him fuck me. Country folks. They sure are nice. And they sure know a lot about wood.