The Woodman - Sex Stories

The Woodman

The third character, in "The Shop Across the Road” saga. Chapter One: Kurt was the supplier of wood to one and all, in the small town where I lived. He was a very engaging guy, and always had a mischievous look on his face. He was quite stocky, and stood at about 5’10” tall. He was also extremely hairy, with a full black beard and thick moustache. He hardly ever trimmed his moustache, and always had hair hanging over his mouth. His large hands were grimy and rough. Kurt had thick bushy brows that almost gave him a Neanderthal appearance, but he was attractive in a very strange way, and had the most expressive sparkling eyes. The top of his head was bald, and the tufts of hair he had around the sides, untidily sprouted from beneath a very well use baseball cap. He was a scruffy man, and predominantly wore old T-shirts, and baggy sweatpants. The bulge in front of the pants always flopped about jauntily, accentuated by a constant need he had, to rearrange his jewels. Kurt had a peculiar way of speaking, and almost swallowed his words. I was always embarrassed by the number of time I had to utter; “Pardon me”, when in conversation with him. When Kurt had had a few drinks, it became even more difficult to understand him. Encountering him in the pub my powers of concentration, were tested to their limit. He always stood very close when engaging me in conversation, and would place one or the other of his hands on my shoulder, as if imprisoning me. His wife was huge and ...

... unattractive, and it amazed me that they had spawned two really pretty blond daughters. She was a homely body, and one very seldom saw her. I can never recall ever seeing them together. Every couple of months, a dance was held at a hall down the road from me. This hall was located in the opposite direction of the town pub, and the dances were well attended by all the locals. I had missed the first dance after my arrival, but decided that it would be appropriate to attend the second event, when pressed to do so by some of the townsfolk. At the dance I joined a table of locals, and watched the people enthusiastically gyrate and enjoy themselves. Later in the evening, Kurt sat next to me and chatted. As usual, I tried to decipher what he was saying. Not long after, he dragged me onto the dance floor for a dance, to the amusement of the locals. Even more surprisingly, several more dances with Kurt followed. He was not stumble-drunk, but ticking nicely. At around 11pm, I decided I had had enough and excused myself, before embarking on my short walk home. Kurt accompanied me, stating he had also better get home, or endure the wrath of his wife for the next few days. As we approached my home, I offered him coffee to sober him up, prior to his possible ordeal with the wife. He gladly accepted, and followed me into my home. As I busied myself with the coffee, Kurt moved close to me, and soon had his hand on my shoulder. He observed closely me for a moment, and before I knew what was happening, ...