Siggy

by Rodder52

 

Siggy was a welder at the shipping yard when I was in my first year as a tradesman – Sparky. I was fit those days, spent all my time pumping the iron and trying to overcome my lack of weight and muscle so at that stage of my life – twenty-one - my bod was small but pretty buff.

     Lightness of frame wasn’t Siggy’s problem. He was one of those heavyset Eastern European guys. Broad shoulders, huge arms, heavy gut and a big wide ass, he was maybe in his late forties. I think I admired him because he was the exact opposite of me – naturally big, unselfconscious, strong as a bull and he could move pretty fast too. That’s what the apprentices found out if Siggy turned up at work horny which was pretty well every day.

     Siggy was an ass grabber – cock grabber too. He’d get beside you and you’d feel his huge paw grab one cheek of your arse – not soft – rough and strong.

     “Ohh,” he’d say, “faarkin laarvely goozika,” he’d say. “I want fark you arse”.

     It was real common those days in the shipyards for the older guys to tease the young men in that way. Nobody thought too much of it, just general hazing really but Siggy was different. Siggy meant it. Siggy never pretended he didn’t mean it. I loved that. I wished I could be like that.

     Because of safety issues he often needed an electrician to stand by on his stuff. It was a boring gig because there was nothing to do but wire up the welder and stand around and wait while he did his thing. I loved it. I’d use the time to perve at him, I’d catch a glimpse of his puffy pink nipples poking through the hair on his big manly tits or take a deep breath of the garlic and sweat smell of his skin and create daydream scenarios where his dick-grabbing could lead to more interesting action.

     The truth is, I was disappointed he’d never made a real move on me but I knew it was my own fault. His groping was actually a test to see if any of the targets might be interested in going further. I was ball-achingly interested. I’d been fantasizing about him for over a year but I’d been too convincing in my defensive moves. I always jumped too fast. I resolved to try and send him a positive signal if he ever tried again but feared he may have given up on trying me.

     This day we were in the forrard hold of a coaster and Siggy was fitting out a chain-locker with safety plates. Hot as hell. It was just the two of us in a confined space. The right thing would’ve been for me to get another guy and rig an exhaust fan for the fumes but Siggy said no.

     “Ne,” he said, “Is only not much. Only you, me together.”

     I wasn’t sure what he meant but something in the way he said it sent a thrill through me. The thought flashed that if he wanted to make a move, he was on!

     First thing he did was shrug off the top of his overalls. With the heat, it was common for guys to undo the buttons to just above the pubic area and let the top fall like a skirt. You could tie the arms around like a belt or trust your hips to hold your pants up.

     The sight of Siggy’s torso emerging from the blue material was like some pagan God of masculinity being born. It took my breath away.

     He was all muscle softened by a layer of fat, further softened by a coat of soft hair. His nipples were large, pointy and deep pink. They were isolated islands in a sea of soft dark fur. You could see that a circle of hair had been carefully shaved around them.  There was something obscene and confronting about the shameless sexuality of those vulnerable, aggressively exposed buds. It hit me so hard I began to tremble.

     Siggy’s overalls settled under his big round belly and stopped halfway down his buttocks. Glorious wide half-moons covered in hair but still shining a white glow from pale underlying skin. I could do nothing but stare. Siggy raised both arms, put his hands behind his head and stretched. I saw muscles flex across his chest and shoulders. I smelled the strong, dominating waft of his body scent. He dropped his arms and flexed the brutal arch of his trapezius muscles. I just stared.

     It must have been over a minute before I realized he was posing for me. Siggy was finally seducing me! He knew that the very sight of him was making me weak in the knees. I tentatively stretched out a hand and ran my finger through his chest hair, touched a firm straining nipple.

     “Oh,” said Siggy. “Is nice. I like.”

     He reached his muscled left arm out and cradled the back of my neck in his huge paw. His right hand pushed the top of my overall from my shoulders and it fell all the way to the floor. He let out a deep growl of appreciation. He was given over to lust. His hips began to thrust in an obscenely slow rhythm. I had just enough time to look down and see the shining purple of the emerging head of his cock. His pants dropped away and that big fat cock bounced stiffly in front of me. He stared into my eyes and drew my face to his. His wet mouth engulfed mine and I surrendered to the lascivious probing fatness of his tongue.

     A wave of lassitude overcame me and I felt my body go limp, subdued by my own passive lust. I was laid back in his arms with my head tilted back. My body may have been completely weak and submissive but my mouth was raging with desire. I inhaled through my nose the overwhelming smell of his breath. I sucked on his tongue and writhed my own feverish tongue around his to savour every scent and flavor from his mouth. He loosened his tight grip and withdrew a little but I was lost in lust. I grabbed his head in both hands and pulled him back onto me. Now my tongue invaded the hot inside of his mouth. I sucked and bit on his lips and licked every corner I could reach.

     He was taken aback for a second but soon took control. His hands went, one to my arse and one to my tits. He squeezed one cheek so hard and twisted one nipple that a shock of ecstasy fired through my body. It arched my back and drew up one leg. It might have been pain but in this context it was ecstasy – a body orgasm.

     “Spori,” he said, “Slow, slow I want fark you darling. Come.”

     In my memory there is something wonderfully sexy about the pause where we both took the time to pull our overalls off and over our workboots. He held me while I got my undies down. Siggy went commando but he leaned on me so he could kick off his pants. A tender moment between us knowing we were going naked (except for boots) into the privacy of the chain-locker and have sex with each other.

     He took my hand and I followed him into the little ten-foot square cabin. The sight of his broad hairy back and the powerful big arse weakened me again. It may be perverse but that view of his arse made me want to beg to be fucked. Just the way he led me by the hand made me feel like a teenage girl. At that moment I was in love with him.

     It was a surprise to me then and still is now how sensual and tender he was. He turned to me and began to kiss my mouth again. This was soft and tender and slow. We indulged ourselves in each other’s lips and mouth and tongue. His hands explored my body all the while enlivening my nipples, stroking my balls, caressing every inch of skin.

     For my part, I was doing everything I ever fantasized about. I wanted to give him anything he wanted. I wanted him to do to any dirty act he’d ever dreamed of. I was a lot less patient. I went straight for his cock and balls and just held them. I was hypnotized by the heat and weight of them and the pure intimacy of being allowed free rein with his balls and the powerful intensely stiff cock. An urge overtook me and I whispered to him.

     “I want to suck your balls.”

     Without a word he stepped back and guided my face down to his crotch. The smell was intense – earthy, powerful manly. I nearly swooned. I took his cock in my hand and sniffed a little before taking it in my mouth. The sensation was amazing. It fit perfectly against the roof of my mouth and my tongue delighted in the looser skin of the rolled back foreskin and the hard, stern stiffness of the shaft. I actually felt something in my anus respond. I reached back to feel my hole and found it moist and slippery. I never knew I could be hungry for fucking in that way.

     Soon Siggy pulled me to my feet. He had me wait while he spread his overalls on an iron shelf running along the bulkhead at about the height of a table. Then he kissed me again and put his hand between my legs – all the way - and started to finger my hole. He withdrew his finger, moistened it in our kissing mouths and returned it to my hungry arse.

     “Pishka so larvely. Give to me.” He lifted me under the armpits and placed me on the shelf. I felt the heat of the iron through his overall but my lust to be fucked overruled everything. I lay back, raised my legs and presented my moist hole to Siggy. He looked so strong and beautiful standing between my raised knees. He was twisting both nipples and just staring at the cleft I was holding open for him. It felt so good to see the look of awe on his face. He loved my bumhole. He couldn’t believe I was giving it to him any more than I could believe I was about to be fucked by this beautiful big man.

     He lowered his face and inhaled a big smell of my arse. “Oh, pishka,” he said. “I love you darling,” he said. Then his face disappeared and I felt the fat tongue that had been in my mouth moment before push its way into my welcoming hole.”

     A good fuck is all about rhythm and my memory of the way Siggy fucked me that day is all about the rhythm of his tongue pushing in to me. I recall the shock of when he introduced his cock and the pain until I opened up and accepted it sliding all the way in. I remember how that rhythm was exactly the same. It was so perfect I came – shot a ribbon of cum into the hair on Siggy’s belly because the plummy head of his cock in my arse was better than a blowjob on my dick.  And he wasn’t even trying to please me. He was answering his own lust. Our needs so matched that we rode each other in perfect harmony.

     We must have been a sight – the huge bulk of the hairy man between the legs of the hairless fair-skinned youngster. He was muttering away in his language (I remember “pishka”) and I was encouraging him with “yes yes” and groans. I knew he was cumming because the rhythm interrupted and he grabbed me very tight. I felt him push his cock so hard up my arse that I could hardly breathe. His face was half an inch from mine. A dribble of spit hung on a thread between our lips. Then he came. He pushed so hard against my arse that I felt a cramping spasm in my guts and I realized that I was cumming too.

     Siggy held me tight for a very long time after we came. He held his dick hard into my arse for the longest time that I had to ask him to let go because the shelf was burning my arm. He was kind and gentle to me – not at all like the grabass I was used too.

     “I larve you darling,” he said. “I want fark you more.”

 

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