Lumberjacks

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Lumberjacks by luke claye

I just couldn't wait anymore.

I turned away from Bastien, slowly dropped my pants down to my ankles, teasing him, and leaned against the tree, arching my back so that my hole was as exposed to him as possible, ready to be claimed and used as he saw fit.

It was getting dark. The dark green of the treetops clashed with the yellowing sky as birds flew south, fleeing the nearing Winter with a sense of hurry that Bastien didn't seem to have.

He stood still at first, balancing his heavy axe on his broad shoulder as lust flickered in his eyes. Even from this far, I could see droplets of sweat on his forehead, making his black hair look wet, and his strong, bulky chest heaving up and down under his red flannel shirt, exhausted from the hard day's work that had just ended. But I too was tired, and some comfort was all I was asking from my friend.

Then I heard his boots crushing dead leaves as he began walking toward me, staring at my bare ass very hard, making me twitch in anticipation and almost beg for him to hurry up and touch me already. The cool breeze of late Fall kissed my asscheeks, making me feel lonely as I waited for him to come and finally warm me up.

I could hear the rest of the boys in the distance, heading back to camp and getting ready to drink enough whiskey to drown a bear in, alcohol and songs around the campfire being the only fun we had being so far into the woods. I and Bastien had to be quick, otherwise they could worry and come looking for us.

But my Canadian friend didn't seem too bothered by that possibility, and when he finally reached me he just slowly ran his calloused, heavy hand over my ass, making me shiver as he looked me in the eyes with an expression of excitement mixed with something else I couldn't quite figure out.

It was a shame he spoke so little English, and I, no French at all. But sometimes I felt like I could read his thoughts on his big amber eyes, and when he began gently running the tip of his fingers over my asshole, I could see they were silently asking: "Is this what you want?"

"Yes," I whispered, but the word escaped my lips in an incomprehensible sigh of pent-up lust.

Bastien lifted his axe from his shoulder, never breaking eye contact, then reclined it against the tree I was hugging, and moved to my back, out of my sight, where I could only guess what he was doing by the sounds he made and by what part of his body was touching mine. I tried turning my head to keep looking at him, intoxicated by the flirty, confident smile he gave me whenever our eyes met, but he grabbed my head and forcefully pushed it back against the tree, making it clear that I shouldn't move.

This was the exact position he wanted me in, and so I complied, arching my back a little more, and closed my eyes to picture his face, remembering the way his eyes closed whenever he gave me a cocky smile, and his big nose, always red whenever he got too drunk and began laughing, throwing his head back and showing off his thick, manly neck, lightly covered in the stubble he didn't seem eager to turn into a fully grown beard, or disciplined enough to shave every morning.

I began breathing hard as I heard the sound of him undoing his pants, pulling them down just enough to free his hard member.

My mind ran wild. I wanted to see it, I wanted to find out if it was as big as everything else on that man. But I wouldn't dare move after he had made his orders so clear, and was left wondering if his dick was just as thick as his strong arms, powerful enough to cut through the hardest timber in the forest like it was nothing but a bunch of twigs.

Fortunately, the sound of him spitting on his hand made it clear it wouldn't be long before I felt how hung he was.

And in a considerate gesture, Bastien began smearing his spit all over my hole, applying more and more of it as he felt it needed even more lubricant to take him in, and gently massaging my asshole without any rush, until I was almost dripping, excited by the firm way he used his other hand to grab one of my cheeks and push it aside, displaying my hole as much as possible while he slid his pinky finger inside of me.

I moaned, glad to finally be touched that way. It had been so long, so long since I had first laid eyes on the Canuck, and I had spent so many days staring at him as he swung his axe with all his strength against the trees, hitting them in a rhythmic, powerful, precise way, making me dream of being subjected to a similar display of his raw power.

And now it was about to happen.

And as it became clear his finger was sliding inside of me with ease, Bastien began using his surprisingly thick middle finger instead, forcing me to relax my hole a little more in order to let it in, making me moan as each articulation forced its way through, until I felt his knuckles pushing against my ass as he caressed my smooth insides, grazing my prostate and making me drip precum like a leaky faucet. Then he took his finger away slowly, all the way out, until I was again feeling empty and lonely, and proceeded to slide it back in once more. I was feeling particularly receptive that evening, but nevertheless struggled to let him back inside every time he took it all the way out, and I shuddered at the thought of what was going to happen next, if this guy could get me so worked up with just a finger.

But after a few moments, he had worked me so loose that it wasn't hard anymore, and decided to increase the challenge, and my pleasure, by sticking two fingers up my ass. And he moved them inside of me, sometimes stimulating my prostate, others just bending them like a hook and pulling me up, forcing me to keep arching my back, making me feel like nothing but a hole for him to play with.

Then he chuckled, realizing I was now relaxed enough to handle something meatier. He slapped my ass a few times, not worrying about all the noise he was making in the woods, and then shook it a little, satisfied by the way my bubblebutt jiggled while he waited for the redness from his strikes to develop, and then slapped it again, always letting out and interrogative sound, as if asking if I wanted more, which I replied with gasps and moans that he took for permission to be as rough as he wanted.

But I forgot all about how sore my ass felt when he began rubbing the tip of his dick against my asshole.

I was still wet from his spit, but I could feel how covered in precum his dickhead was. We were ready for each other. And so he began applying pressure, pushing the tip of his cock against my hole, making me painfully aware of how much meatier than a couple of finger that thing was, and as soon as I had relaxed enough to let it in, feeling it stretching me and rubbing against my insides, he took it out and began rubbing it over my poor asshole again, then forced it in once more, then out again, making me so excited, so eager for his manhood, that I became looser and looser, until he was able to get inside of me in a single movement with no effort, which he began doing repeatedly, using just his dickhead to fuck me.

I was in heaven, but it was hell. I was breathing hard, feeling like a bitch in heat, begging for him to fuck me with all he got already, but his cockhead alone was hard and big enough to make me crazy. I couldn't believe how open I was feeling, it was like he had worked me loose enough to fuck me with a doorknob, which couldn't be much different from what he was doing right now.

The Canadian laughed, seeing the state he had put me into, and then passed his unbelievably strong arm around my neck, bending me backwards, almost choking me, then he stood still, his dickhead inside of me as I tried to keep my ass as high as I could get it. And I could feel his other hand firmly grabbing my hip when he began breathing down my neck, then slowly moving up, rubbing his stubble against my skin and making me shiver with the rough, sturdy way he was manhandling me.

I shook like a leaf when he pressed his lips against my ear, then let out an interrogative groan, his voice very deep, as if asking, without words: "Like this?"

And I rolled my eyes when he finally began sliding his shaft inside of me.

And I was shocked to see his girth went beyond my expectations.

Bastien grabbed my hip with so much force that I was afraid he was going to crush me, and firmly held me in that position as he began feeding me more and more man meat, stretching my hole to its limits and making me fall into a slight panic as I felt him getting deeper and deeper, with no end in sight, my heart beating so hard I was afraid my chest was going to explode. I began breathing harder, in shallow and rapid repetitions as I tried to take him in, then looked down at my feet, flustered, looking for his axe, trying to make sure he was fucking me with his cock and not with that wooden handle.

But his axe was still resting against the tree.

I shook my head, and tried to back away from his dick, unable to stand how deep it felt, and how much it was stretching me open, but the lumberjack held me tight, then stood still and began shushing into my ear, trying to calm me down.

We stood like that for a few moments, his dick almost halfway inside of me as we hugged in the woods, the sunset now painting everything in a golden hue, the birds singing far away as I began calming down, my breath slowly getting in lockstep with Bastien's own as he pressed his barrel chest against my shoulder blades and kept shushing into my ear, patiently waiting for me to be ready to take him whole.

I got the impression he was used to dealing with panic attacks whenever he fucked someone.

Bastien began kissing my neck and running his thick fingers up inside my shirt, over the side of my torso, making me shiver in pleasure with the light, ticklish way he caressed me, until I was finally able to relax once again, and he slowly began pushing my ass back toward him, now trying to make me let him in at my own pace, and I felt my hole swallow more and more of that man as I went back, and moaned in lust and disbelief when I felt his low-hanging balls against my butt.

I couldn't believe how big that thing was, how deep inside my guts it was poking, and how thick it felt, stretching my hole like never before, pressing my prostate and stimulating it with its sheer girth.

Bastien stopped choking me and took his arm out of my neck, grabbed the back of my head and pushed it against the tree, bending me over and getting me in position to be fucked. But then he also bent over me, pressing his muscular chest against my back again and making me feel the weight of his body over mine as he went somewhat limp, resting over me and making me feel subdued by nothing but the size of his hefty, musclebound manliness.

What a fucking stud.

And then he sticked his hand inside my shirt again, this time running it up over my belly and chest until he found my nipple, and began gently playing with it while we stood still, basking in that moment of complete intimacy, as close together as two people can get, two bodies occupying the same place. Then Bastien gave me another small kiss on my shoulder before he began moving his hips and fucking me nice and slow.

His movements forced me to focus on nothing but relaxing and letting him do whatever he wanted to, and I was grateful by the way he did it gently at first, playing with my nipples and holding my hip.

After a while, Bastien stood back up, always holding me in place, and began fucking me deeper, rocking his hips back a little more every time before thrusting his member inside of me again and again, until I began feeling his dickhead stretching my hole to get out, and then stretching it again as he forced it back in. And at that point, feeling the length of his whole dick as it went through me, as he made me painfully aware of just how much cock this Canadian had to use on me, I began losing my mind, rolling my eyes and paying attention to my ass only, trying as best as I could to give it up to him. I was completely his, my asshole was completely his, and all I wanted was for him to use it as hard as he wanted, like nothing but a hole for him to dump his urges in.

And when he began grunting louder and louder, fucking me faster and harder, angrily squeezing me as he held me in place, I turned my head to look at him, and our eyes met. And he gave me one of his beautiful cocky smiles, only this time there was something mean about it, like he was enjoying how much I was struggling to keep up with how hard he wanted to fuck me, and he kept thrusting his giant member inside of me with all his might, like he was trying to make a point about demanding I gave in completely, and I could read his mind by the wicked twinkle he had on his eyes:

"Your ass is mine now, bitch."

And Bastien began slapping my butt again, harder than ever, making me moan and cry a little each time, and he groaned like a bear as I looked into his eyes and asked him for more. I couldn't get enough of him, I wanted it deeper, faster, harder, stronger. I wanted to feel him using all of his rock hard muscles against my helpless hole, I wanted him to abuse me with all his power, to feel all his manliness as he came inside of me.

And as I got more and more excited, Bastien began saying things in French I couldn't understand, but that nevertheless made me feel very dirty, like a worthless little whore. And as his words began turning into deep moans once again, he began repeating just a few of them over and over, making it easier for me to guess what he meant.

"Putain... Putain, ça c'est bon... ma petite salope, ma petite salope..."

"Fuck," I moaned in reply, "please, don't stop, please, don't stop..."

But Bastien suddenly seemed angry at me for talking, and covered my mouth with his hand, making me shut the fuck up as he began groaning louder than ever, and fucking as hard as he could go, my words now just muffled moans of lust and desire as the sound of his big balls smacking my ass echoed loudly througout the forest.

I closed my eyes in pure ecstasy. There was nothing right now that could make me feel more fulfilled than that Canadian dick up my ass, ramming me so hard I was afraid he would bring down the tree I was hugging. And I kept trying to open my eyes now and again, shaking my head as I felt my mind drifting away, my consciousness slowly fading even as I tried my best to keep aware of my surroundings, but was forced to give up on that idea again and again as Bastien's hefty balls hit against my taint, blanking my mind as his firm hold made me feel helpless, with no other option but to grit my teeth and accept whatever he decided to do to me, and I sighed and moaned as he fucked my brains out.

That's probably why it took me so long to notice John watching us.

And it took me a split second to realize what that meant.

Several feet from us, not really hiding his presence, the young foreman was standing with his arms crossed, staring at me with his steel blue eyes. He had certainly come looking for us, and followed the thumping and moaning sounds that filled the woods this evening.

And we had been found out. John's dead serious gaze met mine, making my ass flinch as I felt thunderstruck by his stern expression, an expression of silent anger I had never seen on his beautiful face.

That sight scared me shitless, and I tried saying something, but Bastien was still covering my mouth and simply ignored my muffled protests. The Canuck kept fucking me as I tried to tell him what was going on, and firmly held me in place as our boss watched me taking Canada's biggest cock up my ass.

I stopped protesting. There was nothing I could do, and all the fucking lust I was feeling right now suddenly became even stronger, and took over me as I realized how excited that situation was making me.

I liked being powerless to make Bastien stop. I liked having been found out, being judged by my boss' blue eyes in this dirty, sluty situation I had put myself into.

Why was it? What was it about the way John stood watching me, with his strong arms crossed, that made me feel even hornier? I knew I'd always found him a very attractive man, being so tall, so muscular, so sturdy as he was. And I loved his blond hair and beard, and his masculine facial features, thick eyebrows, square jaw, full lips...

And the angry way he stared at me. Fuck. What was wrong with me?

"So that's where you guys were," he said from where he stood, and Bastien froze still when he noticed the foreman walking toward us. I don't know what went through his mind, but I noticed how deep inside my guts he lodged his cock, and how impossibly hard it was, throbbing as John got just a few feet away from us, as handsome as ever, filling in his green flannel shirt nicely, and my hole began pulsating, slowly at first, then faster and faster, almost as fast as my heartbeats, squeezing Bastien's dick as if trying to milk it, hungrier for cock than ever.

I was half sheer fright, half uncontrollable horniness.

But a hundred percent submissive fuckhole.

And when John finally reached us, as I thought he was going to have me fired, or worse, my boss just put his hand on my head and began petting me like one of his dogs, smiled at Bastien and said, flatly, "What's the matter? Keep fucking him."

The Canadian laughed, and went back to screwing me even more excited than before.

I was still bent forward, hugging the tree for balance, and so had my head at about John's belt buckle's height. He looked down at me as I was rocked back and forth by Bastien's thrusts, arched his eyebrows in a disappointed, slightly annoyed way, and pushed my head toward his pants. That fucking gorgeous blond hunk.

I instinctively began sniffing his crotch as he began talking to me.

"I can't believe one of my boys was a fucking cumdump all along," he told me, a frown still on his face. "Why the fuck didn't you tell me, you idiot? Do you know how many guys here haven't had a hole to fuck for weeks now? Do you?" he insisted, now slapping my face lightly, as if trying to catch my attention, but I was lost in the sweet, manly smell of his sweat, and couldn't hear him well as he pressed my head against his hardening member.

"You selfish motherfucker," he continued, now grabbing the back of my head and humping it. "My life would've been so fucking easier if you'd just told me the guys had a hole to release some stress all this time."

John's deep voice made me shudder with its serious, angry tone as he now began undoing his pants, revealing a fully erect, very veiny dick, whose girth and length I had only some split seconds to admire before he began smacking my face with it, grabbing it by its bushy, blond base and swinging it like a club against me.

"I'm so sorry, John," I tried to say, but my words were barely comprehensible as Bastien's dicking kept me almost out of breath, and the young foreman just kept reproaching me for keeping secret the fact that my ass was up for grabs, his dick getting harder the more the belittled me. It wasn't long before it began leaking precum, which he was smearing all across my face as he used his cock to slap me.

I realized I was probably going to have to work very hard to regain his favor.

Then John held me by my chin, forcing me to look up at his blue eyes, his rock hard cock now resting against my lips, and I instinctively began kissing it, trying to show the foreman how sorry I was, and how much I respected him. Bastien laughed. He was enjoying this game.

They had me reduced to a little bitch begging to be forgiven. To be forgiven and fucked. John looked at me disappointed, almost as if too tired to keep explaining how much I had fucked up.

"Just suck me already," he said out of patience, "I'll have the boys teach you a lesson later."

And the Canuck stopped fucking me for a few seconds, so that I could let go of the tree and hug John's thick, muscular thighs instead, but began ramming my ass again as soon as he made sure I wasn't going to fall.

The foreman had his dick pressed against my face, and I felt his manly musk invading my senses. I ran my nose against his blond pubes and low-hanging balls, trying to take in as much of that smell as possible, then marveled at his bright red, bulbous dickhead, which had a little drop of precum on top, and I smiled when Bastien thrust me forward once more and I accidentally bumped against it, and his precum became now a thin, clear rope that ran from the tip of my nose to his cock.

And I could feel how all that was making my hole even more relaxed, even more open to let the Canadian in.

"I said suck it," John repeated himself, which he obviously hated doing, given how hard he pushed his dick down my throat.

I opened my mouth wide and tried to swallow him as deep as I could, and was surprised by how thick it felt on my mouth, stretching my jaw and my lips to their upper limits. That was a nice cock. Now that I had it in my mouth, I could see it wasn't much longer than your average dick, but it surely was much thicker, like it had been designed to ruin any hole it was put into.

"Come on, don't be a pussy," John complained, "Take it all in," and I tried my best to obey.

I had never been fucked that way. Two of the manliest men I had ever met were using me at the same time, both of them fucking my holes in an eager, almost frustrated way, ready to tear me up if needed in order to finally bust a nut after being stuck in the woods with nothing but their own hands to please themselves. And I felt proud to be the fuckhole they had been dreaming of for so long, even if it was hard to keep my balance as John began fucking my skull, forcing me to do my best and try to swallow him without gagging, while Bastien hit me so deep inside my guts, pulling my asscheeks apart, thrusting against me with all his might.

It was like I had been born for this moment.

And as they pressed on, turning me into their fucktoy, there was nothing else on my mind but how it felt to be spit roasted like that, and the slurping, gagging sound the blond hunk forced me to make, and the sound of the Canadian hunk's hips and balls smacking my ass, all that echoing in the forest in a rhythmic, obscene way, made me fall into a trance, my eyes rolling up, my mind blanking, so much cock at once, so hard to keep up with them, my hole so stretched, those motherfuckers so hard, so deep, so hard, so hard...

I began coming handsfree.

And it was a weird feeling I had never experienced. At first I became alarmed, it felt like I was peeing, but then I looked down and saw my dick shooting its load, swinging freely in the cold Fall breeze as my hole twitched like crazy, squeezing Bastien's huge cock as it massaged my prostate. That hung stud was big enough to fuck a load out of me, pressing my cum button with his sheer girth and making me shoot every ounce of sperm I had in my balls.

I moaned loudly, and tried to reach my cock to jerk it off, but the foreman and the Canuck were fucking me so hard that I couldn't let go of John's muscular thighs without losing my balance and hitting the ground, and so I was forced to keep cumming with nothing but oral and anal stimulation, the urge to grab my dick increasing out of control for each rope of cum I shot, and my innability to jack off making me go crazy, somehow even hornier than before, frustratingly so, even hungrier, even more eager for those lumberjack cocks relentlessly assaunting my ass and my throat.

But I guess the strong way my asshole squeezed Bastien's dick pushed him over the edge, massaging his member in a way he wasn't expecting, and I was still cumming when he stopped humping me and sticked his cock as deep as he could, grabbed my hips with all his strength, and began shooting inside of me, his rock hard dick throbbing so much I could feel his pulse in it, his ropes of man juice hitting my guts while John smiled, pleased to finally see my hole being put to good use, while he kept feeding me his foreman dick and making me gag and drool, merciless.

"That's it, you dumb whore. That's what you deserve."

The men looked at each other and began laughing, pleased by the fraternal intimacy of sharing the same cumdump.

"It's my turn now," John said, like a boy pushing his friend aside for his turn with the shiny new toy, taking his cock out of my mouth and finally allowing me to breath freely.

And I stood up straight for the first time in the last several minutes, flustered by all the action, gasping for air and feeling my legs tremble as Bastien's load began running down my inner thighs. I looked down and finally grabbed my dick, which was hard as a fucking rock, completely wet from my own cum. But it didn't feel like it. I was still feeling just as horny, if not even more, than before shooting my load.

I was ready for more.

The studs changed places, and when my Canadian friend got in front of me I was finally able to see his dick for the first time, with some of the cum he had just put into me smeared all over it. I couldn't believe I had been able to take him so hard. Fuck, what a beautiful dick. That man was hung like a horse, and his member hung between his legs, long, hefty and uncut, its skin darker than his face or arms, veiny, thick, and with a big dickhead, which was shining like an apple as its smooth surface was wet with Canadian seed. No wonder it had been so hard to get that thing in.

Bastien noticed I was staring at his cock and smiled. He hadn't shaved in a couple of days, and his sweet, full lips went nicely with his manly stubble, making my heart melt and my legs even weaker. We were so close to each other I could smell his sweat and hear his tired, heavy breathing. And I realized I had never got so close to his square jaw and amber eyes, which stared back at me in a relaxed, almost grateful way, certainly thankful that I took it like a champ as he ravaged my ass.

He leaned in for a kiss, and as I felt his lips touching mine, all my musculature relaxed, and I gave in to his strong hug, embracing me in a gentle, yet powerful way, before I realized he was actually holding me in place for whatever was next.

John pressed his cock against my butt and grabbed my hair.

"Hold him tight, will you?" he asked Bastien, who looked at him and smiled, guessing what the boss wanted.

"Vas-y," he answered in French, and even though I didn't know the word, the way he said it made it sound like "Fuck him good."

Fuck, how I loved my Canadian hunk. I tried to rest my head against his chest and open up for John, but the way he was pulling my hair made it impossible. The foreman really liked it rough. And he began pushing the tip of his cock against my hole, making me let out a little sigh of discomfort, which he promptly ignored, but that Bastien noticed, smiling, almost as if pitying me, and deciding to kiss me again, as gently and passionately as I've ever been kissed.

I guess the thing I wasn't expecting was the clash between their personalities. Bastien was a very sweet man, and even if his dick was the biggest one I had ever taken up my ass, he had all the while been so gentle, kissing my neck, making sure I had enough spit on my hole to take it easier, playing with my nipples, caressing my head, my hips, my thighs... And even as he fucked me like an unbroken stallion, slapping my butt and making it bright red, I still somehow felt that it came from a place of love, and that I could trust him, and gladly give in to him, sure that he would be there for me if I needed anything.

But John was built differently.

He was the boss, and he liked to remind everyone of that fact, especially given that he was roughly the same age as most of us, very young for a foreman. In order to be respected, the blond hunk felt his authority should be enforced every time he had a chance.

And that same authoritarian mindset showed itself in the way he had skullfucked me, grabbing my head with his powerful grip and holding it in place as he moved his hips further forward than I thought my throat could take it. John never took no for an answer, he was never afraid to show who was in charge of this operation.

And being as tall and muscular as he was, towering over us and forcing everyone to literally look up to him, I don't think he's ever had trouble getting people to obey his orders.

I liked that about him, and felt drawn in by his confident, steel blue eyes whenever he looked at me with his notoriously stern, dead serious expression. I just felt the urge to follow his orders, to trust him to decide what was best for me, what I had to do, and simply do it. John was a natural born leader, someone you wanted to be in the good graces of, someone you wanted to please as best as you could, to have by your side, and never against you.

And now he was going to fuck me in the ass.

Bastien held me tenderly as we kissed, while John spit on his hand, smeared it all over his thick dick, and then proceeded to penetrate me in a single, steady thrust, in a demanding way I wasn't sure I was able to live up to.

But I was lucky the Canuck had worked my hole so loose already, and that the copious amount of cum he had injected in me had me lubricated enough to let the foreman in. But damn, that was a fucking fat dick if I've ever seen one. And it was pulling me apart from inside, more and more, never fucking stoping to let me catch my breath, just more and more foreman dick up my hole as he got closer to me, and I felt his body heat geting nearer, until his chest was finally pressed against my back.

And as I felt his hips pressing against my ass I gasped, his dick now completely inside me, making me fall into a slight panic not much different from the one Bastien had me in when he first tried penetrating as well.

The Canadian noticed I was tense and embraced me tighter, pushing his tongue into my mouth in a french kiss, muffling my moans of pleasure and discomfort as he tried his best to make me feel taken care of.

"How come you're still so fucking tight?" John said smiling, and as I flinched, he protested. "Come on, open up for me. Take it like a man, you little bitch."

And then he let go of my hair and began fucking me to show he meant business. I understood I had no option but to relax, to ignore the pain and focus on Bastien's sweetness, to let the blond hunk use my hole as hard as he wanted. The only way out was through.

And weirdly enough, I loved it.

For a moment there I thought he was gonna break me. I felt a little scared, I had never had to please such a thick dick, and I had never been used by a guy so fucking horny, so determined to fuck me as hard as humanly possible. I moaned in pain and disbelief, but somehow enjoyed the thoughtlessness of it all. It made me feel so low, so helpless, like my sole purpose was to let him abuse my ass, no matter how hard it got.

All I wanted was for John to feel good.

And at the same time Bastien held me against his rock hard pecs, and stroked my head while letting me rest it on his broad shoulders, shushing into my ear and making me feel so loved, so protected, so cared for. Fuck, it was like half my body was burning while the other half was touched by a nice summer breeze, and the contrast of these two ways of loving someone, of these two different sexual mindsets I found equaly arousing, was a sensory overload.

I couldn't think, I couldn't react. All I could do was give in, moaning and groaning in a way completely out of my control. I just felt like I was rightfully theirs, and gladly accepted anything they did to my body.

I had never felt so submissive.

And as I moaned, lost in the haze of pain and pleasure, feeling goose bumps from Bastien's small kisses on my neck as John slapped my ass and pulled its cheeks apart, groaning and repeating filthy slurs at me, I felt I was close to cumming for the second time.

"Take that, you piece of shit. You fucking dumb whore, is this what you like? Hm? Is getting a hard dick up you hole what you like, you dirty motherfucker?" John went on and on, screwing me harder and harder, and as I groaned in response, unable to answer his questions, Bastien shushed me and tried to calm me down, and smiled so handsomely that I couldn't help but relax my hole even more, to which the foreman responded by fucking me even faster, even deeper, even harder.

I was trapped in a vicious circle. And I felt my prostate contracting, tensing up and preparing to spasm in just a few moments.

That feeling scared me a little. I wasn't used to feeling so aroused, to being fucked so hard that I could cum handsfree, and tried to grab my dick again to jerk it off, and finally have a complete orgasm this time around.

But the men in charge had other plans for me.

When John saw me reaching for my cock, he grabbed both my wrists and pulled them to my back, holding them firmly and rendering me even more helpless, dead set on the idea that I shouldn't be touching myself.

"Forget that," he mocked me, "You have other things to worry about," and stuck his dick very deep up my ass, just to make a point.

The Canadian stud, on the other hand, noticed my dick begin to throb, begging for attention, arched his brow and laughed, as if mockingly saying "Ah! I see what you want..."

And I didn't understand if he pitied me, or if he wanted to further my despair, but he began caressing my dick very, very gently, his calloused fingertips barely even touching me, but still stimulating me enough to get me going, although not enough to make me cum, all the while stroking his own dick, making me feel jealous of how he grabbed and jerked it with his whole hand, in a strong grip that would surely make him shoot in no time.

I had never dripped so much precum, and Bastien used his light touch to spread it all over my cock while he gave me small kisses, running his stubble against my skin, making me shiver with those subtle feelings as John rammed me on and on.

I lost control over myself, and my moans became louder and louder, my naturally deep register getting higher and higher as those men teased and abused me. I was afraid someone else could hear me, and ashamed of how unmanly I sounded, and tried being quieter, or at least moaning like a man instead of panting like a little bitch, but failed miserably every time John thrust his cock against my prostate one more time. They had successfully turned me into their little slut, and were making me lose grasp of my surroundings as they kept torturing me in the sweetest, most merciless way possible.

And as I lost my mind, my awareness was completely reduced to a single thought: how bad I wanted to cum. I opened my mouth, trying to beg them to have mercy on me, but the only word I managed to utter in between unmanly moans and sighs was "please."

"Please, please, please..." I kept repeating, unable to speak a full sentence out loud, unable to articulate how much tension I felt on my contracted prostate, on the very edge of spasming and making me shoot my load, but still not there, then even closer still, but not there yet, then closer, but not enough, and so on, and so on...

"Please, please..." I cried. Please let me cum.

And when John squeezed my wrists even tighter, slowed down and began dicking me in longer, deeper movements, I realized he was about to feed me my second load that evening.

"Are you ready?" he asked, right before getting his cock all the way up my ass in a fell swoop, ejaculating inside of me in a wet, hot, hard and throbbing mess.

I wished those seconds could last forever, I wished I could stay in that position, being used like that, hearing the young foreman groaning and losing control as he shot his load after having screwed me so hard. I don't know if there is anything more fulfilling than feeling a man plant his seed deep inside me like that, in such an intimate way, like our very souls had been entwined when I felt a nice, warm sensation taking over me from deep inside my guts and volley after volley of John's sperm flooding me as he emptied his balls, which were so painfully full of cum after being denied a hole to fuck for so long.

That feeling was too much for me to handle, and Bastien's fingertips' touch finally became enough to push me over the edge. But as soon as I shot my first rope of cum, the Canuck stopped fondling my dickhead and instead began slapping it left and right, ruining my second orgasm in a row and laughing about it in a sadistic, but nevertheless incredibly handsome way. I tried begging again, but my mind was a complete blank, and I watched with eyes wide open how pleased the Canadian was to see my dick uselessly swinging up and down, and he stared at me, deep into my eyes, with a challenging expression, as if saying "What are you going to do now, hm?" and rejoicing at the fact that there was simply nothing I could do but surrender my body to his twisted little game.

And then he came.

And Bastien leaned his hips forward, getting his cock right against mine, and rolled his eyes and grinned in the sweetest of ways as he began covering me in his cum, while John kept groaning and having orgasmic spasms, slowly letting go of my wrists as his body became limp, overwhelmed by the relaxing sensation he had been chasing all this time.

The sun was almost completely down now. We all stopped and remained motionless for a long while, breathing hard and embracing each other, enjoying the afterglow of sex as all that cum ran down over my body, messing the men's pants as they held me in their strong arms, giving me little, thankful kisses in the neck every now and then. Both of them were hugging me, resting their heads on each of my shoulders and inundating my senses with the manly, musky smell of their sweat as they tried to catch their breath and the forest fell into a peaceful silence once again.

The birds had stopped singing, and the only sound we could hear now was that of the other guys in the distance, laughing and singing in preparation for a long night of whiskey and brotherly love.

And then they let go of me, and I stretched my sore muscles, noticing how red my skin was after being battered by both of them.

Bastien smiled at me once more, then looked down at my dick, and noticed I still had a raging boner between my numb legs. Apparently, two ruined orgasms in a row hadn't been enough to calm me down, and my cock was still stubbornly demanding to be taken care of, resolutely decided not to go down before it too had its turn to feel good.

"Putain," the Canadian laughed, "elle est insatiable cette pute, non?" he mocked me while pulling his pants back up, which his muscular thighs made a somewhat tricky task.

John turned me around to see what he was talking about and laughed at my hardon. "Good," he said, almost back to his usual angry tone, "you still have a lot of work ahead of you. Let's head back to camp. The guys will be happy to see what I found for them in the woods."

And after asking me to hand him all my clothes except for my boots, he dragged me naked to the camp, anxious to let everybody know they now had a hole to fuck whenever they needed.

I was scared. There was a rock in the pit of my stomach, and my heart was beating very hard as I wondered how in hell I would be able to take all the boys in the camp. But Bastien seemed to notice my reluctance, passed his arm over my shoulders and tried to cheer me up, smiling and trying to say something with the few words in English he knew.

"It's OK," he said in his very thick accent, "I will help you."

And as I rested my head on his shoulder, I looked to the sky and noticed the first stars begin shining over our heads.