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He shot me a dirty look, then went back to chopping…
And I went back to admiring.
THOCK.
His broad shoulders…
THOCK.
His gigantic arms…
CHUNK.
When he grabbed a piece of wood, his hands were just massive.
I remembered something else massive, too.
Something I’d had my hand around this morning…
I searched his jeans for what I was looking for and found it.
A long, solid outline under the denim extended part of the way down his right thigh.
Fuuuuuuuuck.
Even soft, he was bigger than any of the guys I’d ever had sex with.
I imagined what it would look like if he was chopping wood naked…
Would it dangle there? Swing back and forth?
I was starting to get really horny.
Yes, I hated the guy…
But dick is dick.
And a huge dick attached to a specimen of physical perfection… well…
There’s only so far you can push a girl before she breaks.
Throw in doing something uber-manly that I’d only seen in movies before, and I was a goner.
I could hate him again later.
For now, I preferred to watch.
He split two of the big circular logs into 16 smaller pieces, then used the hatchet to chip off lots of long, thin strands of wood.
“What’s that for?” I asked.
“Kindling,” he replied, then stacked everything onto the canvas carrier.
Then he heaved it up in the air and slung it over his shoulder like it was… well, not nothing, but not a big deal.
There must have been well over a hundred pounds of wood in that carrier, but he handled it like I would my JanSport.
He looked like a ripped Saint Nicholas with a brown beard and a package of presents over his shoulder.
