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The Tree Servicer

By WV GRIFFIN

submitted April 5, 2007

Categories: Men At Work

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“That damn brush pile!” I said again for what seemed the one-hundredth time, and stared out the kitchen window at it. When what to my wandering eye should appear; a bright orange Tree Service truck. With a crew of three.

“And a chipper!” I said aloud, then told myself to get the idea out of my head. Ten minutes or so later, I looked and seen they were still there. So was my brush pile. I stepped onto the porch, so as to see which tree they serviced. The one that grew about twenty feet from where my brush pile stood. They did, after all, chip up what they cut, and most of my brush happened to be tree and shrub debris. I walked a few steps into the yard, to get a closer look at how it all worked. The noise of that thing could be enough to drive you away, but I couldn’t find the effort to get away.

The eye contact that suddenly came from the green-eyed guy with the thick moustache caught me slightly off guard. I smiled back and nodded in gesture, he flashed a straight, white smile, then assumed his work again. My inability to stop myself from staring over him, and the other two, quickly took me in. When I found my sensible self again, I stood at the end of the yard. Since they had to pile the branches on the opposite side of the road, they and their chipper were about twelve feet away. My brush pile lingered a bit to my right. Well, what did you know, they were taking a break. The green-eyed guy with the big brown moustache seemed to be staying. Even more incredible, men who put their lunch in an actual brown bag still existed.

I knew it to be rude of me, but it became one reason for me to stand there and watch him as he ate. Within just a few bites of the sandwich he ate, green eyes thought so too.

“Hi.” He said in a very loud and masculine voice as he stepped from the truck to the asphalt.

“Hello.” I replied and stared on.

“Maybe I look familiar?” he asked with a slight cock of his head, which made me lower my brow and give a dumbfounded stare. “You’ve been watching us for some time.” he finished.

“I know.” I stated. “Does it bother you?”

“Sort of.” he replied with a flat honesty that showed in his eyes.

“Pardon me. I just find your work is of interest to me; especially today.”

“Oh yeah? How so?” he asked, took a step toward me and stared with full wonderment into my brown eyes, that all inclined me to smile.

“One of you cuts the tree, the other piles the branches, you both throw them into the chipper.”

“Yeah, that’s normally how we do the job.” he said factually. “Don’t mean to be rude, but where does this lead, I’d really like to finish my lunch.” By the time he finished the statement, we were just over arm’s length apart. Only the fence separated us, I smiled, and tried not to check him out as hard as I knew was happening.

“I happen to have a brush pile, and a problem getting rid of it. My wonder is if you could toss it in your chipper. I’ll help carry it.”

His blank stare made me feel a complete idiot. Just as I was ready to make it worse and apologize, he opened his mouth to speak.

“I get a salary from a company, to do this job for companies. Thanks for the help you offered, but I can’t do that for you.”

“I understand, but didn’t think it’d hurt to ask.” I said, turned away and took a step toward the house.

“Hey man!” he said a step later. I turned around and locked eyes with him. “How about this, my chipper for your brush pile, if you could heat up my lunch?”

“Deal!” I said with relief that cooled me down and a bit of man hungry hope that heated up my libido.

He went back to the truck to retrieve his lunch; I slurped back saliva from the corner of my moustache and watched his ass bounce. To my dismay, his bulge was hidden behind the heavy coveralls.

“Thank you.” he said while I opened the gate. The sincerity that showed on his face made me rush. I felt we understood each other. He was surprised, appreciative, and even blushed with gratitude when I offered my kitchen for him to enjoy his lunch in. While he ate, we conversed; of his job, pieces of our lives, and that damned brush pile.

“No private citizen has ever asked our crew to do that.” he said after my eyes watched him swallow the last of his soup and second ham and Swiss sandwich.

“I figured as much, but like I said, I didn’t think it would hurt to ask. Glad we worked out a deal though.” I added.

“Me too.” he said, and then glanced down at my watch.

“You’d prefer to get this done before the others return?” I said with a chuckle.

“Oh yeah.” he said with a hearty laugh that lit up his face and made the hot stranger seem all the humpier to me.

Our conversation continued throughout ridding my yard of that brush pile. I found out some interesting things about that five foot ten inch tall, muscular man. Single, lived alone and didn’t date much ‘cause he worked more than one job. Liked camping, drank beer over liquor, and enjoyed his job with the Tree Service Company. That way, he didn’t have to waste money on a fitness club to keep in shape.

“You’re definitely in shape.” I said to have him pause ever so slightly in the toss to the chipper, flash that sweet smile and wink at me. “I also want to apologize for watching you eat.”

“Now that I understand, it’s fine.” he said as he tossed the last few pieces into the chipper. The way he stood and stared over my six-foot standing afterward caught my attention and made me stare a bit longer over him.

“So you like the shape I’m in?” he asked in a low tone and took a step toward me.

“From what I can see, yes. It’s such a shame you have to wear those coveralls.” I squeaked.

“You’d like to see what’s under them, wouldn’t you?” he growled, which caused my mouth to water so damn profuse; I could only nod in answer.

“Can I come by after work?” he asked, brushed a hand over his tool box and looked down at mine.

“What time will that be?” I asked.

“Six.” he said quickly.

“In your coveralls?” I asked, then could only smile at the rush I watched roll through him.

“I can do that.” We shook hands and again thanked each other for the favors. “Hey,” he said after the release of my hand. “Glad to make a deal with a man who understands mutual benefit.” I grinned then headed back into the house and tried with much difficulty once inside to keep myself from going to the kitchen window.

At five till six, I watched that masculine fucker walk through the rear gate. His thick brown hair was just a bit more wind blown than when I saw him last. But it only added to his humpiness. The long sleeve shirt he wore earlier was gone. The coveralls were unzipped to just above his navel, and hung precariously on his broad shoulders. His black A-shirt clung to his upper body, barely covered its thick build. The closer he got, the wider our sex-fueled smiles became.

The Service Worker’s greeting of how impatient he’d been to get to my home made me instantly hard. I slid a hand over his chest, he seethed hard, helped me lift the shirt, and then I saw his furry belly and smiled.

“So you really do like the shape I’m in!” he said.

“You really thought I was feeding you a line just to get you here?”

“I was damn sure hoping so.” he replied.

“I didn’t pick you of the three for nothing.”

We laughed as I eased the coveralls off his shoulders. He freed his hands and they fell about his waist. He raised his arms; I dragged my greedy eyes over his torso as I peeled the shirt from him. He kept an arm in the air and used the other hand to get grip on my head of black hair. With a grunt he shoved my face into his armpit.

The natural, male smell pulled me in and within seconds, I was growling as I licked my fellow man lovers’ pit for all glory. His moans came hard and in staccato as he pressed my face to himself. Before long, he had me licking across his chest, and my hands were on his shoulders. I took time to stop and stimulate both the thick, hard nipples as my tongue headed to the opposite pit. Gave it a few rounds, then followed the smell of a days’ work and the hair gracing him, until my knees touched the linoleum floor. The tree mans face was flushed lustfully as those green eyes stared down at me. The drag of thick tongue over his moustache served as the perfect prelude to my next move.

I pushed my jeans past my knees, fully unzipped his coveralls and got a most pleasant surprise; he was going commando. In place of an elastic waistband there was pubic hair and a thin, black leather cock ring. That made me eagerly push the garment, and I was greeted by a cock that made my mouth water so heavily, I had to slurp back the saliva to keep it off my lightly whiskered chin.

“That’s it!” He whispered when my lips wrapped his meat. I welcomed the hand he applied, let him use it to guide his personal cocksucker’s head as he saw fit.

Once facially comfortable in the luxury of his crotch, I eased the coveralls to his ankles. He gaped his thighs for comfort as my hands slid up his hairy calves. When they reached his thighs, I slid them a bit slower, so as to fully enjoy the feel of the hair and the solid thickness of his flesh. All the while, I put forth moans for more of the fore and aft strokes of stiff phallic deity being fed me.

Couldn’t help but moan when my hands reached his ass. Each hand had its own cheek to squeeze, each one bountiful in flesh and soft hair. His moans and fuck-speak drove me ever closer to animating the thought that rolled through my mind. I exchanged his thigh buddy for his balls while I mulled it over.

The difficulty encountered when I tried to simply slurp them in made me open my eyes and take notice of their size. They were big, but once I turned my head to the side, my big mouth accommodated them just fine. He rose to his toes and sent a few thick fingers to help push the entire sac in.

“Damn you look good like that!!” That stud-cookie said when we made eye contact. If only I could have told him how good he looked from my angle!

My fingers untied his work boots, and he balanced well on each foot as they were removed. He gave more help in the full removal of the coveralls, and then stood with his feet far enough apart for me to release his balls, and then lie on the floor. To show him I understood the question in his beautiful eyes, I placed my hands on the backs of his knees and gently pulled. He came down slow, only to gasp and rise above me when I licked his perineum.

“Come on,” I coaxed. “You’ll like it! And I promise not to bite.”

“I’m not worried about the bite,” he heaved. “It just feels so fucking good. I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle it for too long.” His admission of that being a new move on him made me grin wide. And want to do all I could to make it not only easy on him; I wanted to insure he enjoyed the feel of it as much as I would have fun to put it on him. He returned down to me and again gasped upon the contact with my eager tongue. Yet with each fresh slaver, his gasps converted ever more toward pleasurable moans as his hairy nut sac rolled over my bobbing Adam’s apple. The feel of his cock drool on my chest and the sight of his hairy asshole told me he was going for my cock. His fingers wrapped around the shaft, he jacked it a few times and whistled.

“You’ve got one hell of a cock man!! Wish mine were that big.” I wrapped my hand around his still drooling meat and thought there was nothing wrong with the thick seven and a half, uncut inches. I continued to slaver over his perineum, made my way back to his hairy hole and waited to feel the scratch of his moustache along my shaft. To feel no more than his hand told me what I suspected from the beginning. He received, but didn’t give, and even that didn’t matter. As long as he’d let me do what I wanted to him, he could have stroked my nine inches all day.

“Oh yeah!” he said after I blew a breath across his hole. I couldn’t help but laugh a bit when the ample hair actually moved, gave me a peek at the treasure it kept hidden.

“You like that?” I inquired.

“I’d like it better if you’d do it again.” He made his hole pucker in final reply; my mouth went to watering.

“So you know what I want to do?” I asked to have him rise full up on his knees and placed a hand on my ass.

“The second you started to lick my middle, I wanted you to get right to my ass.” “I’m heading there.”

His reaction to the initial lick mirrored that of his perineum. After that, we meshed. My hands were on his cheeks, prepared to spread them when I needed to go deeper. Meanwhile, I made that stud moan loud, groan deep. Seethe hard and grind his ass to my mouth. He told me to eat it, lick it, bite into it and shove my tongue as far up him as I could. I hungrily made every attempt to do just as he’d said. It had been a long while since I’d been bold enough to eat ass. But was damn sure glad I felt so bold that day. I was in ecstasy tasting the treasure once hidden by the now sopping wet, dark and rich hair.

Just as I reached for my cock, the man I serviced warned of his impending orgasm. He had the majority of his weight on my face and boy did he ever grind that hole to me. His balls slapped on my chin harder as he stroked his endowment faster. He wanted to cum, wanted me to beat my cock and cum with him.

“You’d better keep working that hole r e a l good!” he told me. “ ‘Cause I’m about ready to cover your cock with this big load of mine!”

To hear those words made my load surge just a bit faster through my tubes, but not fast enough. The hot service worker groaned hard, crawled two steps forward then covered my stomach, cock and balls with a really phenomenal amount of cum. So much that by the time my load finished its splash over us, his cock continued to drool.

After we cleaned up, I watched him slip back into those coveralls. With the same lust I harbored upon first spy of him outside my window.

“That was a nice way to end a workday.” he said and stared long into my eyes.

“It sure was worth it to get rid of that brush pile.” I told him.

“Wouldn’t it have been easier to just burn it?” he asked.

“Maybe,” I said thoughtfully. “Seems I’d very much rather have a hot fire burning in my kitchen, than in my yard.”

We laughed, groped each other a bit more, then he stuffed the black A-shirt into his pocket and went back from whence he came.

WV GRIFFIN


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