Sunday drifted so fast after breakfast. Bastien seemed unusually restless: not anxious I would say, just more excited than usual. Which was somehow even more adorable on a man who looked like he should only communicate through grunts and woodcutting.
Twice I caught him smiling to himself while we were having a walk outside. Third time, I pointed it out:
"What?" I asked.
"Nothing."
"You're smiling."
"Maybe."
"You absolutely are."
He gently grabbed my wrist to distract me:
"Come on. I’ve got something to show you."
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
That man sure love surprising me.
I followed him willingly through the workshop yard, enjoying the warmth of his hand around mine. The morning sun filtered through the pines, forming small golden patches on the sawdust spread over the ground.
We stopped in front of a small storage building behind the main workshop and Bastien suddenly looked almost sheepish.
Which immediately made me curious.
"What is it?"
"Just get in there."
"Bastien..."
"Amanda."
Damn.
That tone.
I laughed and pushed the door open. The room was cool and smelled strongly of cedar, oak, and freshly worked timber. It was a bit dusty too, like if someone had just shaken old rags everywhere.
I stepped inside. Small glowing particles were floating around me, like if we were in the ocean suddenly.
"Oh."
What I saw truly got me confused at first.
And the… amazed.
What the hell is that?
The shelves along one wall were covered in sets of weirdly shaped tubes.
Not just one set.
Several. Different sizes, different shapes and different woods (maybe?).
Each set looked meticulously crafted, polished until the grain seemed to glow beneath the light filtering through the small window. Behind me, the door clicked shut.
I turned:
Bastien stood there with a ridiculous grin on his face.
And suddenly I understood.
This wasn't just storage. This was some kind of a testing room for him.
"You made all of these?"
"Yup. And I’m not planning to stop."
Wait?
How?
When?
“Not very long to craft.” He reassured me, seeing I was speechless.
As if that made it less impressive.
I walked toward the nearest set. The pins felt smooth beneath my fingertips, incredibly smooth. There was not a hint of a shard or not a single pointy edge. I almost dropped one pin.
"God…”
Bastien stepped up behind me, one arm settling naturally around my waist. The gesture felt so easy now and kinda familiar. His hand rested lightly against my hip while he reached past me to grab one of the pins.
"This one's my favorite."
He handed it to me and I was even more shocked. The wood felt almost silky in my palm. I turned it over slowly in my hands.
"What is this?"
"Pear wood."
The craftsman had awakened.
"French pear. Took me forever to find a good supplier. But if think it’s the best option we’ve got."
I ran my thumb across the surface. It felt wonderful.
"No grain sticking out at all."
"Exactly."
His smile widened:
"I knew you'd notice, Amanda."
Bastien gently took the pin back and pointed at another set.
"We’ve got some maple. Nice balance. The weight feels different."
Then another:
"Cherry wood. Beautiful color when it ages."
I listened, fascinated.
Not because of the wood itself (even though it was fascinating already), but because of him. Because this rough, intimidating man became so animated talking about something he loved.
His hands moved constantly as he explained and his deep voice gained energy, sometimes getting into higher notes. The best were his eyes: they were brightening with pleasure.
"I spent months experimenting."
"What got you that idea?"
"Well… started one of my student talked about Mölkky." He said, scratching some of his chest hair escaping from the top of his black tank. “Told me about those small, tube-shaped things that they throw around in that game. Said he wanted to make his own set. I said… Well I can try to make some and I’ll tell you if it’s doable. Short answer is: it’s doable.”
I laughed.
“And it’s actually pretty nice.”
This got me to smile again: there was definitively something up with those wooden pieces. I could feel it in his eyes.
He had a plan with those.
“So it started as a game. But… those aren’t made to play Mölkky, right?” I asked, grabbing another one, bigger.
Bastien looked mildly offended:
"I mean. They still do their job."
"Yeah… I never played Mölkky though. Don’t know the rules. I wouldn’t know the correct dimensions for those set pieces."
He grabbed another pin and held it up.
"Well… mine are a bit different. They’ve got different diameters."
I blinked.
"Diameters?"
"Sure. Girth If you prefer."
He pointed to several examples:
"Tried some thinner pins. Some heavier. Different weight distribution changes how they fall, or sink in."
I stared at him.
The seriousness with which he delivered this information nearly killed me.
"You've actually tested all of these?"
"Well… some of them yeah."
Oh shoot
No way.
Bastien had already… played with his ass with those?
"How many have you tried, hon’?"
Bastien considered.
"Only a couple of them." His hand on my back was not going dangerously low, almost brushing my ass. “The tinier ones.”
"Did you enjoy using them?"
"Well… kinda yeah. But I didn’t dare go further than a few inches."
Him confessing all this was both surprising but also very arousing. I’ve never would have thought this late 30 years old divorced (?) dude would go to play with his ass like that.
I mean… maybe this wasn’t new for him.
“Did you… play with old Amanda, before she left?”
His hand tightened briefly around my butt, almost cupping it.
"Yes. I… I kinda wanted you to try them." His tone shifted suddenly. “Never been too much into them though.”
"Hm."
Bastien was so deep in his fantasy now. He was still acting as if the old Amanda and I were the same person.
This was… definitively wrong, but, it seemed to make him happy.
“I wanna try them now. Seems like they could help.”
Then his expression softened a bit:
"Really?" And a small smile reappeared on his bearded face. “Think you would enjoy them?”
I looked down at the handcrafted pins again. There was something intimidating abut how they were all set up, like waiting for me.
Waiting for me to impale myself on them.
“If that helps me taking care of you, then I will.” I said, feeling some kind of pulsation in my ass.
“Good girl.” He said, while caressing my lower back. “We should play."
"We should?"
"Definitely."
He reached for one of the wooden throwing pins and handed it to me.
Then he smiled. That kinda smile which made my heart stumble. I was truly falling for him, and I didn’t want to resist anymore.
If this was what he wanted, I was more than happy to experiment with him.
Sure, playing with those wooden pins looked kinda scary at first glance. But I was pretty sure that with the right amount of lube, care and also… patience, this could work.
"You know the rules?"
I looked up at him:
"Of the Mölkky?"
His grin immediately widened:
"No. My game’s called different."
He felt like a kid showing me his secret basement filled with cards and toys.
“What then?”
Say it!
The anticipation was killing me.
“Well… the name is a bit silly.”
“Come on.” His smile was contagious.
“Ok…”
Come on come on.
“Called it. Morning wood.”
He set the collection aside and selected one of the smallest toys: a smooth, tapered cylinder of maple. He held it up, his thick fingers making the toy look almost dainty.
“This one's the starter. Five inches long, about an inch and a half wide. Just a little taste.”
Gulp
“To get your pussy used to being filled."
I nodded. This didn’t seem as bad in the end.
“You got some lube hon’?” I asked.
“I’ve got everything for it, my little wife." He reassured me, pointing a table at the center of the room. “On your back."
“OK.” Bastien helped me remove some junk and dust from the table. “Do you have… some cushion. For my back?”
Bastien reached out for some gear in a corner and got a grasp on a large piece of tissue and some small cushions.
"Let’s make a nice nest for you up there sweetie. Legs up." he commanded, the softness of his reassurance shifting back into that dominant tone I craved.
I obeyed instantly, scrambling onto the cushions and adjusting them over the blanket, before hoisting my legs high, exposing my ass.
I felt completely vulnerable, my thighs shaking as I waited.
I felt so exposed, but in a good way.
Especially because he seemed to be immediately pleased to see my thong-covered hole… I mean “pussy”.
“Let’s get to work, wifey.”
My bear husband didn’t waste time and got the lace of my undies to the side, revealing my hole to the cool air of the cabin.
“Looks so good Amanda.”
Bastien knelt between my legs, before plunging his tongue into me.
I quickly melted with the power of his mouth. He went straight to french-kissing my asshole, and high pitched moans escaped my mouth.
“Fuuuck. Bastien. Yes.” He was a talented at that.
More than talented. He had the passion too. He knew how to make his tongue work deep, and twist it around to make me go crazy.
Damn, he’s a hungry hulk.
And so much better than my ex (the very few times he was into doing that anyway).
It really felt like day and night.
“You’re pussy is so fucking tasty Amanda.” He said, catching his breath. “Feels even tighter than before.”
No kidding mate.
That’s not a regular pussy I’ve got for you.
He went at eating my hole for a few minutes, really digging deep in my insides, like if he was trying to devour my hole fully. The truth is that I didn't want him to stop, it literally was an amazing feeling that no other man had given to me.
Once he was satisfied with the rimming, he got two then three lubed-up fingers twisting and sliding in and out of my pussy, taking his time to open me up properly.
He never stopped looking at me while doing it, which made that moment all the more special and intimate.
He looked deep.
So deep into my eyes as he massaged my prostate and stretched my entrance and I was experiencing feelings I hadn't had before. I couldn't resist taking his face in my hands, closing my eyes and moaning softly.
I wanted to kiss him so bad.
Bastien didn’t resist long: with two of his big fingers buried inside me, he started kissing me passionately.
Oh the shivers…
In all my body.
“All right.” He eventually said while putting on some gloves. “Time to try your first Morning Wood.”
The maple dildo was glistening with a fresh coating of lube.
"Deep breaths, wifey," he murmured. “This one isn’t too bad. Even I managed to take it.”
He aligned the rounded head with my opening and pushed.
I shivered violently, a loud, broken moan escaping my lips as the wood slid inside.
It felt different from his fingers for sure: firmer, colder, and perfectly smooth (hopefully all his toys were that perfectly crafted!)
He didn't rush; he pushed with a slow, agonizing precision, feeling my muscles clench and then reluctantly give way. I arched my back, my fingers clutching at the blanket, as he drove the five inches deep, burying the base against my swollen entrance.
"Fuck, you're so tighter than before," he groaned, watching my face. "You're shaking for me, aren't you? Tell me, Amanda... how does it feel? Does it feel good having that wood filling you up?"
"It's... it's so full," I whimpered, my voice airy and desperate.
"I feel it... stretching me so good. Please, keep going."
“Oh I will.”
He leaned forward, capturing my lips in a deep, bruising kiss that tasted of coffee and desire, his tongue swirling in my mouth while the dildo remained buried deep in my gut.
Kissing him while having his hand-made wooden pin deep inside of me felt somewhat even better. I was slowly getting addicted to this silly “Morning wood” game.
After a long moment of slow thrusts, he pulled back, his eyes dark.
“Ready for more, hon’?”
He gripped the base of the toy and began to withdraw it, pulling with an agonizing slowness that made me whimper, the vacuum of my pussy clinging to the polished wood.
As the toy finally slid out with a wet pop, he tossed it back into a box and stroked my inner thigh.
"You did so fucking well, sugar. You took that so well. Wanna see if you can take the next size up?"
I looked up at him, my heart hammering against my ribs, the emptiness in my pussy already aching for more.
"Yes," I gasped, pulling my legs wider.
"Please... more. I want to be ready.”
...
“I want to be ready for you."
“All the time Bastien.”
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