A Wooden Delivery

I’m alone. A noise? Tyres on gravel. Peek out; a truck. Man getting out of the cab: good – looking man. Recognise him? Perhaps. Doorbell. “Got some lumber for you, missy.” “Yes, I’m expecting you. I’ll show you where it goes.” “Thanks. And the timber too, please!”.   “Coffee?” At the kitchen table, we talk. “Demanding work, this, shifting timber, you know.” “I’m sure it is. You look as if you need some relief.” “Sure could, an’ all.” Since the days of Charlie some 2 months had passed. I’d been playing with myself on a regular basis, but I needed to see a man…. Are they longer and thinner, or shorter and thicker, or what? Wanted to feel him….. Hard or soft? Fondle….. What effect would it have? Stroke…. Raise the stakes. “What do you mean?” “Need just to sit down a bit, rest, relax, chat to someone nice like you. In fact, I remember when I dropped by a while back, you said we might talk.” “I do recollect. I think I could help relieve you. Ever had massage?” “Naa. What you got in mind?” “Simple. Relief massage I’ll give you. It’ll be quick. Would you like to try it?” “Yeah, OK, I’ll give it a go just for a few minutes, Can’t delay too much as I’ve another call to do.” The hots were on me! Up and down….. Excitement building. “Come here with me.” “Where’re we goin’?” “Just through here to the bathroom.” “Oh.” “Face the mirror there, and don’t move. I’ll look after you. Be back in a second.”   “OK?” “Yep, fine.” “Right, watch and enjoy”” Zip, unfastening. A hand reaches inside, fumbles, pushes aside underwear. Feels for organ; limp but beginning to stiffen. “Aarr. That’s what you mean by massage. Raather!” Ease out swelling member. Dextrously, I undo the top of the jeans, push them down and the underwear. I grasp the base of the shaft. It already has a life of its own. Firm. “This is impressive, Jack. It is Jack, isn’t it?” “How d’you know?” “Obvious really. You’re a lumberjack and I’m going to jack you off. Am I right?” Tool now absolutely rigid, pointing upwards. I push down on the end of his knob, let go – and it springs back upwards. I do it again! Just love this! “A lovely cock, Jack. I’m going to stroke it.” I hold it in the middle, delicately between thumb and 2 fingers, slide the skin towards the tip, slide it towards the base. Three or four strokes. “Does your wife do this?” “No, she’s a bit dull. Missionary position is all she’ll do. No perks like this.” “Here, show me what to do. Take my hand.” He closes his big hand over mine, moves it up the shaft a fraction, then oscillates my hand up and down, lets go. “That’s the spot, s’really good.” I oblige, slowly. Excitement mounting. “I’m going to put some cream on you which I fetched in. I think you’ll like it.” Spread the clear cream all over. I fondle his ball sac. They don’t hang down much, but I can manipulate them. His eyes are becoming vague, glassy. I’m getting to him. From the base I slide my hand right up his cock, over the end, and down with a firm grip over the head. “Gee, that’s so good. Give me more.” I love the feel of his tool. I do it again, hard over the head. He pushes against my hand. I do it some more. My own cunt feels awash I’m so sexed up. “Come on Jack, I want to see you cum, show it to me.” Speed up the rhythm, where he showed me. Really fast now. Eyes completely glazed. Stop. The tool throbs on its own. A hoarse whisper: “Go on. I’m near, I need it.” I resume slowly, then quickly. Breathing fast. A deep groan. A thrust. An explosion of spurts, shooting out of him, pumping vigorously, then gradually weakening as I continue to massage the shaft. I slow. The flow stops. A wonderful cumming. My cunt aching for relief. “I haven’t cum like that in ages; it was so, sort of, intense.” “Great. Glad you liked the massage. I told you you needed relief.” “Keep the fire burning for me. I’ll be back.” The wood fire, or the fire in my loins? I’m hot. The crunch of tyres on gravel. Stillness. I’m alone……