It felt good in her hands. Wielding it with grace and style, she could feel the raw power of it. Sensations traveling up her arms, and into her torso, caused her breasts to vibrate within her clothing. Her nipples rubbed against the material of her shirt. The wool scratching gently against her in the cool morning air.
Not that she needed any additional stimulation.
The clean and crisp atmosphere made her feel vital and alive. And gathering her own wood, gave her inner strength and sense of purpose. And now cutting it all down to size with her chainsaw made her feel powerful and self-sufficient.
The loose fit of her clothing belied the strong muscular woman she was. Beneath her clothing was a firm strong body, able to perform any task. She intimidated most men with her strength and her abilities. She'd get into a relationship only to find that the men would simply be unable to deal with her.
They wanted a girly-girl.
NOT.
So she lived here alone in the woods. She held a position in the city, but that position gave her some flexibility and permitted her time alone which she craved.
And so here she was, cutting wood for the fire she would build later in her cabin.
Using the chainsaw made her hot and sweaty, even in the cool of the morning. It was getting warmer, and as such she felt the need to remove her shirt.
Doing so revealed a strong upper body, tanned and firm. She wore no brassiere, so her breasts were exposed in the morning light. To the casual observer she would have appeared to be a lithe man from the back. Tanned and working in the woods. But from the front, her breasts revealed and feminine form, bathed in sweat.
She folded her shirt across a tree stump and returned to her task. The vibrations of the tool transfered up her arms and into her body, causing her breasts to jiggle and sway gently.
The chainsaw was also having an additional effect. As it always did. The forces were causing her sex to awaken. She could feel little jolts of pleasure when she cut into a log or when she revved the chains slightly. She had found over the years that she could attenuate her pleasure by how she cut, where she cut, and for how long she cut at a time.
Today she allowed herself to run along for some time on the edge of pleasure. She wanted her release to build slowly and quietly. For the better part of the morning, she had let herself be quietly buzzing, never really going and never really releasing. Idling.
Finally she could stand it no longer.
She laid down her tool and removed her gloves. Her hands were soft and supple, treatments and care kept them that way. Her right hand touched her left breast, grazing the aureola and tweaking the nipple. She smiled to herself, as only one intimately familiar with one's own pleasure can.
She also knew that she was alone in the clearing and as such she could relax her guard and perhaps pleasure herself.
Her hand slid down her chest and across her flat belly, then beneath the waist of her jeans. She leaned back against the stump and closed her eyes, she was going to enjoy this...
~SNAP~
Her eyes popped open at the sound. A branch breaking at the edge of the clearing, penetrated her self-induced mental haze.
She slid her jeans back up over her hips. As she recovered her shirt, she cast her eyes around the edge of the woods to find the source of the interruption. A scant twenty feet away, she spied skin and a bit of clothing.
But mostly skin...
He was a tall muscular fellow, short cropped dark hair and ruddy skin. Either that or he was embarrassed to be caught. His trousers were down around his ankles and he had taken himself in hand.
Clearly he had been watching her.
Clearly he was aroused.
And if he had two brain cells to rub together, he should be able to tell, even at 20 feet, that she was pissed off.
She took in a breath, prepared to scream invective at him, for her command of the language could shock a longshoreman.
His arousal gave her pause.
She stared.
Slack jawed.
And exhaled.
She doubted that she could get two hands around it, let alone one. It appeared to be at least as long as her forearm.
He smiled, sheepishly.
She sat down on her stump, her breasts only moderately covered by her unbuttoned shirt. She could feel her sex alternately pucker and relax.
She closed her eyes. You can't be serious, she thought.
She looked over at him. He had turned in profile. It stood straight out from his groin, pointing slightly skyward, the foreskin pulling back over his glans.
At that point she stood up and began to walk toward him, her chain saw and wood cutting forgotten.
Their eye found each others and locked. She knew that he knew that she knew, she thought.
When she got close enough to touch him, she began to speak, but he hushed her with a wave of his hand.
By gesture, he bade her to sit. His hand gently caressed her cheek, while the other hand stroked his arousal. It was hard, purple and appeared the throb.
She reached for it and he turned towards her. She stroked him gently, up and back.
It was warm to her touch, she could feel his blood pulsing inside.
She became overwhelmed with the urge to take what she could of him in her mouth. This urge made her sex absolutely twitch with anticipation.
She opened her mouth and her lips touched the head, she could smell him, that male smell of heat and passion.
She licked the head, tasting his saltiness. She flicked her tongue across him and she felt him shudder. she opened her mouth and took in the head....
.... She felt him in her mouth. Hot and throbbing. She could taste his maleness, the salty musk of him. The tip of his cock slid across her tongue and she could feel him in the back of her throat. To her shock and disbelief she seemed to have taken him all in, as her lips and chin were pressed against his balls and her nose touched his smooth hairless belly
She closed her mouth around him and pulled her head back, and as she did, his size reappeared.
Her eyes found his.
His blissful smile revealed nothing.
She again slid down the length of his cock, and again it seemed like she took him all in her mouth, which to her did not seem possible. She decided at that point that she was dreaming or that , well she was dreaming.
Since she was dreaming, she decided to indulge her dream and began sucking him off with great vigor. She had always been able to please her past lovers with her skill and with her enthusiasm at this task. And truth be known she always felt that this was a way to dominate her lovers, as once she was done they would do almost anything...
Her lips found his balls a nd sucked them in one by one, they well heavy, hot and swollen with cum. She sucked on his glans filling her mouth with it and tonguing the tip, teasing the end with the tip of her tongue. She could taste a bit of him on her tongue., and the look on his face told her that he was close.
Yet she could not quite get him to release. She worked hard, sucking and licking and stroking him, but to no avail.
