Gay Sex

Excursions of the Brain Part 10

Venture into the wooded area...

Spankmasters
May 20, 2024
14 min read
fellationatureforestgroup sexgroupTravels of the Mind Pt. 10fantasy
Travels of the Mind Pt. 10
Travels of the Mind Pt. 10

Excursions of the Brain Part 10

Vacationing with Maisie and Jonathan can bring so much joy, without any worries or stress from work. We booked a lovely cottage, full of old-fashioned charm. On the fourth morning, I woke up before the sun, just as an owl was hooting away, nearing the end of its nightly hunt. Birds started tweeting, announcing the arrival of daylight. Slipping out of bed, I stepped into the sunrise and felt the dew-covered grass beneath my feet. Wanting to get some fresh air before anyone else woke up, I chose to explore the woods near our cottage. Maisie, Jonathan, and I had walked through the woods, admiring the vibrant greens of the leaves on the trees, grass, and moss.

A little stream crossed the path, where fish swam in crystal clear water. Onward I went, pondering which path to take. Choosing the path we hadn't previously explored, I ventured into a fairytale clearing, surrounded by trees. The grass was dripping with morning dew, so I removed my shoes to feel it on my feet. What a thrill it was to walk barefoot in the morning dew! Tickled by an ancient custom, I considered the possibility of washing my face with dew. Would it be absurd to even bathe in dew like village maidens of old in May? Yes, why not? Thinking about it, the dew could benefit not only our skin but our sexual health.

Approaching the crossroads, I discarded my dress, standing naked, free and unrestrained. It was an uncommon feeling, but perhaps it felt nice to feel naked and wet all over, not in that way but still so moist. The sun rays began drying me, and the temptation to explore my private parts intensified. I began rolling on the grass, enjoying the dew bathing my body from head to toe.

Since shedding my dress, my body was free from any restraints. For some reason, an erotic thought came to me, which turned my focus from nature to a personal moment. Walking naked in the forest and letting my imagination run wild with Harris crossed my mind. Having intimate moments with him or even numerous men aroused me. Could I have been taking part in such activities in the woods, far away from people, in a state of nudity? I couldn't be sure, but when I visited that hotel bar, I was attracted to the curly-haired boy whose large, complexion-matched cock left an impression on my mind. Touching my clitoris, I whispered "cock...nut-brown cock" aloud, and my naughty thoughts took over. Letting the courageous girl in me out, I imagined indulging in erotic activities in the forest. Remembering the experience with that boy, I couldn't help but picture how it would feel if I had been the one to make his cock come. So engrossed in my daydream, my vaginal lips got wet, and I allowed my fantasies to linger.

Thoughts of Harris's curly, elfin hair and his oversized, brown cock kept tumbling through my mind as I imagined what could've happened if we found ourselves in the woods, away from civilization. With a blush on my cheeks, I pictured us having sex with other men. The thought excited me, meeting men in the depths of the forest for pleasure.

Would a moment of self-exploration be a good idea? Decked in the privacy of the forest, lost in thought, I considered the potential stimulation caused by touching myself. Considering how my body reacted to Harris's cock, could engaging in explicit activities come naturally? I counted on the power of my imagination to take me to a realm of absolute ecstasy.

One more thing crossed my mind – why not feel a tingle between my legs or try something with Jonathan or...

To be continued.

Image:<img style="max-width: 100%; height: auto;" src="https://i.imgur.com/JbFi4uz.jpg"

List:

  • Be with Maisie and Jonathan on holiday, breaking free from work
  • Cottage is picturesque, the first random memory that comes to mind is that of an owl
  • Woke early, liked the idea of going out on a walk alone before anyone else got up
  • Boisterous dawn chorus of birds signaled sunrise
  • Path chosen led into a forest.
  • Started thinking about an age-old tradition of bathing one's face in morning dew
  • Imagined more naughty fun with the morning dew, like washing her entire body and hair
  • I was under the impression that the dew made the skin soft, but was it also an aphrodisiac for young virgin girls of long ago?
  • Unable to resist, the thought of being fully naked in the forest became too enticing
  • Aroused by the mysterious Harris, she considered his hypothetical role in previous experiences
  • Questions of whether I'd ever met him in a secluded woodland setting or walked with him naked
  • Seeking adventure, I decided to stop fantasizing and simply see where the day would take me.

At the border of the meadow, she noticed plants with large, arrow-shaped, vibrant green leaves. She recognized them as Cuckoo Pint - Lords and Ladies - due to their hooded flower structures. Wild Arum. The yellow-green spathe with its purple streaks and splotches inside its purple boundary, partially enveloping the short, club-like spadix or spike, some transitioning from yellow to purple-brown. In the fall, there'd be lipstick-red berries to attract songbirds, but it wasn't berry season yet. Poisonous to humans, poetically portrayed in the title 'Lords and Ladies'. And as for 'pint' - undoubtedly the cuckoo's sexual appendage! The enchanting spathe, adorned with a hood and arousing in its curvy, feminine form, wrapped slightly around the phallic spadix, standing straight and penis-like. An otherwise regular plant, yet the sexual connotations occupying her mind.

It wasn't movement that grabbed her attention beyond the Cuckoo Pint and into the trees. The human eye outstanding at distinguishing shapes and changes, our minds adept at processing and deciphering intricate graphic information in ways exclusive to humans. She saw the figure, the contrast from the oak trees encompassing it, regardless of the foliage. Yes, regardless of the leaves, she noticed a man standing still and surveying. Not Harris, no; rather, something entirely different. A nude man but with his skin taking on a greenish tint, his beard a jumble of spiraling oak leaves, much like his hair; oak leaves and stems intertwined around his face, almost emerging from his mouth. His eyes observing her.

For a brief instant, she paused, merely staring at him while he starred unwaveringly. Her eyes bisecting him. His hazel eyes, his height and palpable strength, his nudity, on a par with her own. Winter oak leaves forming his pubic hair and from that sprang a robust branch - his erect penis. He unveiled himself from the woodland shelter, rays of the morning sun dappling him. She, situated in the uncovered glade, fringed by dew-moistened grass under the warm sunlight.

An uncanny sensation of not being alone emerged. Relinquishing her lock on the green-hued man, she pivoted. Into the clearing, a phantasmagoria of figures presented itself - neither ordinary humans nor mere children. These beings epitomized the curly-haired elfin boy she'd come across before. The individual features showcasing an otherworldly aura. Not only young boys but girls also, their blond locks interweaved with budding flowers. Nudity prevailed, their fair skin contrasting with the dewy meadow grass. What was this world she'd stumbled into? Where might be Harris? Had to be his doing.

Their purpose remained elusive. To dance? Under the twilight? Or possibly both - an enchanting blend.

Without brisure, a flock of folk engaged in dance, blending delicate forms and motions. Limbs in harmony, innovative pirouettes on the grass, appearing as if they'd float. Solo performances culminating in dance pairs - boy to boy, girl to girl, two circles connected in an unbroken loop, simultaneously spiraling within each other. A spectacular show. Unable to resist, she refused to relocate, don her dress, and exit. She had to watch.

The breathtaking dances, dancing to the harmonious chirping of birds in lieu of music. Beautiful physiques, each dancer radiating grace. Breast, decisively rounded and feminine, suspended without much jerkiness due to their petiteness. Yet significantly more striking were the male penises and testicles. Exposed and highly active - up, down, side to side, around in circles as the young men's bodies continued to move with precision. Entrancing to a captivated woman with a desire to conceive. So many-beautiful male reproduction organs; would they harden and produce semen; become equipped to discharge their male essence into her? But was an elf child what she'd craved? Cherubic nut-brown curly-haired elfin offspring? Were they, as she'd read or at least thought, solely fertile during the moonlight? A joyous elf mate, entertaining her during the morning, yet at night...?

As false as a deduction; it made no sense.

This woman's gaze was fixated on the wild antics happening in the leafy copse. So engrossed, she didn't notice the appearance of the figure emerging from the trees. No one else seemed to notice him either. Instructionlessly, their dance ceased just as quickly as it had started. She realized their focus wasn't on her, but rather what lay behind her. Turning around, there stood this half-naked fellow basking in the morning sunlight. Closer examination revealed that his beard was reminiscent of oak leaves, and curling tendrils were creeping from the corners of his upturned lips. His body had similar growing tendrils, radiating from various parts. While his penis shared a rugged surface with the bark, no greenery thrived upon it. However, a circle of oak leaves was caressing the base of his phallus. At the top sat a charmingly rounded knob, resembling a fresh acorn. It almost seemed like a huge golden acorn as autumn approached. The unsheathed foreskin completed his look, mirroring an acorn cup. This was a truly magnificent penis. The woman had no issue calling it by that appellation. She knew some of her friends might not be as daring in ascribing this illustrative adjective to a male 'dick' or 'cock'.

Her legs felt weak and she knew what came next. How could she refuse to bow before this creature so clearly representing the natural world, a testament to life and the regenerative cycle associated with the seasons? She slid down to the ground, staring at his face, then peering at his torso - not a body covered in hair, but instead adorned with fresh leafy greenery between his nipples. Lowering her gaze further, she found herself inspecting his acorn-like organ. Gazing at the imposing testicles from a distance, she immediately noticed their resemblance to the Mexican fruit, the avocado. The name avocado originated from the Nahuatl "ahuacatl", which indeed means testicles. No coincidence!

She could not help it. Opening her mouth, she moved her head forward and took his acorn in it.

She had performed similar acts with other men. It was such a regular occurrence. Penetration wasn't hard like a wooden member would be, and the beloved oakwood's conspicuous firmness, especially when fashioned into a wooden dildo, was notably absent. Additionally, the living wood rather suggested holding a maturing tree, running her mossy body against its smooth exterior or maybe ravishing a mighty old tree while enjoying the seasoned trunk. Perhaps a youthful specimen she could easily embrace with her arms, or even a bedeviled oak, mature enough to present a sizable midriff.

Instead, it was best to consider it a male tree, sliding her pussy back and forth on his manly strength, with her breasts pushed forcefully against him. Could she climax by simply willing it? Preferably by envisioning invigorating scenarios - perhaps penetration and forcing an orgasm via oral sex. Fantasizing violently, she saw multiple young men forcing her to give herself orally. And only after that could they penetrate her.

She stroked his organ with her lips, tugging them back and forth along the acorn cap, feeling the movements and the moist skin. It wasn't firm like wood, but soft, yet always accompanied by the solidness it held within. Would it transform into something harder with the progression of seasons? A leathery, thickened fluting perhaps?

(If you're struggling with converting "penis" to "penile" - don't worry, I'm an English teacher! Though I did design this piece with "genitals" in mind when drafting it.)

As the organ slid deeper into her mouth, gently bobbing her head, her nimble tongue enthusiastically traced its contours. Below her, a tingling sensation spread through her sex, moist and ready. The thought crossed her mind - would the green man reach down with his fingers, caress and probe her? She imagined he might - in her experience, most men seemed so preoccupied with having their penises inside her. It was a wonder she had even entertained the question. As women, were we not also fascinated by the physiological differences between our bodies and theirs? What little girl didn't daydream about romance? Were not our thoughts prone to drift towards sex and male genitalia?

Her mind wandered back to the green man. He was still standing there, as still as a statue, making no move. Yet she could feel the strong, erect length of his penis beneath her lips. Was she to satisfy him or was he to satisfy her? Before she could even process this thought, the moment arrived.

Just as happens with men, hot spurts of liquid erupted in her mouth. He stiffened and spurted forcefully, the sensation pushing her to swallow eagerly. She looked up at the other dancers, hoping they'd not noticed. But they were all still, eyes closed, seemingly frozen in place. In that split second, she noticed something different, too. The men around her now all had erections. It seemed peculiar that they remained hard, even after ejaculating. Had they not reached orgasm? This felt so unnatural, yet so innately biological. Perhaps the green man's constant erection was a symbol of nature's resilience, an embodiment of the mysterious and titillating return of life in the spring.

Once again the dance resumed, and this time she found herself drawn in, a part of the rhythm. She remembered flinging herself into the dance at her dance classes. Such agility played well with these natural movements - whirls, circles, and turns. The women leapt between the men's outstretched hands, lifted and dropped, and then back up to the next man. This was a completely different kind of dance, one she was unprepared for. The laughter and merriment seemed to intensify with each loop around the circle.

As each girl prepared to leap, the men's penises grew hard, achingly so. She couldn't help but sense the potency radiating from them. It was clear she had no choice but to join in, to let her own pelvis meet that of the first man's - the one she saw so transfixed by her performance before. With each leap and drop, her lips came into contact with another man's penis. It was out of her control - she was being passed along the line like a captive.

Overwhelming pleasure washed through her, and she climaxed doubly on the second revolution - quite the feat while dancing! The second time she landed on a man's hips, she could tell he had been ready, squeezing all the fluid from his penis without her needing to turn around and check. She couldn't believe how quickly she continued to climax.

With each new leap, another girl would spring up behind, stopping only to land on the last man's erection, then moving on. They kept this up, one after the other, the beauty of the scene playing out before her.

Had she imagined the green man was there for any reason other than this elaborate mating ritual? It seemed evident now. The imagery of each girl bouncing on the men's penises was strangely erotic. She felt honey between her legs, the stickiness from the juice of his fountain still clinging to her.

Perhaps the God of Nature wanted this display as payment for yet another year of his blessings. The thought brought on a strange kind of satisfaction. Regardless, she just couldn't help but feel grateful, as if she had been granted access to a garden of unknown bounties.

So sexual, so energetic, so tiring! The sun's rays grew stronger as it rose, bathing the clearing in warmth. The elfin folk might be of moonlight, or perhaps just early morning light. And then it happened - the end of the dance. The elven penises, upright and hard, began to soften in the heat, melting like ice cream on cones during a summer day. The elfin ladies laughed at the sight, at the young men's sad looks, before they too turned into mere dampness on the grass.

All gone, leaving only the fresh green grass and rising dew.

The green man remained, still observing. He opened his arms to her, and she approached to be lifted up and placed on his "acorn," the proud glans of his penis; vivid, fresh, and green. It seemed larger than the curly-haired elfin boys. She felt his powerful, masculine energy, somewhat mysterious yet familiar. His strong arms wrapped around her, as sturdy as tree branches, able to withstand fierce storms, raising her up and down, the rigid organ stroking her with slippery wetness. Her extended clit and taut nipples were teased and caressed by the delicate oak leaves surrounding the man's chest and his shaft. It was all so gentle, so lovely, so exquisitely arousing. She could not believe she might experience another orgasm, yet she knew she would.

The act was so instinctive, so natural, so primordial - just a sexual encounter. A union with nature's spirit. She could not contemplate elven or green children resulting from this union. Yet, was she in preparation? Her womb, like fertile soil, being plowed and prepared for seed planting. The green penis within her certainly felt like an intimate invasive plant, thrusting within her, furrowing her deeply.

She reached orgasm with him, her own body and his releasing at the same time. The liquid he had been inside her was then pushed back up, splashing forcefully onto her cervix. Perhaps making her fertile again, renewing her uterus.

Lifted up then lowered to the ground, the green man's splendid maleness remained before her. She stooped to kiss the slippery slit, tasting herself and again, the earthy flavor of the man's dew. The acorn shape entered her mouth one last time before he was withdrawn into the forest.

In the glade, she met Harris, as she expected she would. He stood by a stout blackthorn stick, clad in walking pants, made of mossy green corduroy. His legs were covered in green woolen socks, disappearing into brown boots. He had a tweed jacket over a cotton-checked shirt in pale yellow with darker yellow and purple-brown designs. A nut-brown kerchief was around his neck. A traditional dark green canvas and leather backpack was by his side. He wore a cap. He raised it.

"Up early?" Harris asked.

"Will I fuck?" Could this be the moment? Was she now pregnant?

"Not yet." Harris glanced skyward. "The weather appears fine so far, but there might be storms later in the week."

The weather had been good, but the forecast wasn't promising for the end of the vacation. An approaching storm from the Atlantic. Yet, why did Harris talk about the weather after she had given her body to him?

"Shall I?" She raised her bare knees before Harris, unbuttoning his pants. She free his member. Soft and pliable in her hand, warm, tender flesh not yet large. She gently pulled back the foreskin, revealing the acorn inside. A lovely, rounded shape, its division its tiny slit, and its bridge, the delicate fraenum connecting the shaft to the knob. She slowly examined it, tracing the skin upward and down, as she had done to Jonathan earlier in the week. She wanted to see him ejaculate, to bring him to the edge. But she cleaned it with her tongue afterward. They had intercourse after that. [end]

When Harris held her pen*s as Jonathan once did, it swelled in her grasp. The sensation of a man's member hardening and growing was incredible. It stood ready, not to penetrate her, but for her to suck it. She savored the silky smooth skin and the delightful fullness as it filled her mouth.

Harris might have been sated with her morning lovemaking, but she still relished the act of fellatio. Kneeling on the grass, she expertly pleasured him, causing him to experience an explosion of ecstasy. Like the green man and the fairies before, Harris climaxed, spewing hot, salty semen into her mouth. She allowed the fluid to soften before rising.

She resumed her journey, collecting her clothes but made no effort to put them on. She walked naked, feeling connected to the forest and the natural environment. Was an oak leaf face observing her? Leaves shaped as a face? She reached the path's fork and crossed the bridge over the water. It was only when approaching her cottage that she decided she ought to dress. Someone might be out for a walk. 'Morning dew' dripped from her sex, falling in a steady rhythm as she walked. It dripped from her 'spathe,' between her legs.

Entering her home, she gazed at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes shimmered, and her skin seemed to glow—maybe because of the dew. Oak leaves tangled in her hair, with stems knotted together. Even an acorn adorned her hair, large and ripe, the color of nutty brown. Curious, she admired it, noting how much it resembled a man's glans with its flared foreskin. What would the acorn evolve into if she planted it? A regular oak tree? Or a tree of the green man? She held onto it, planning to plant it in her garden when she returned to her own home.

Picture of a pens replaced with 'pen*s' to add ambiguity.

She took Maisie and Jonathan to the meadow, explaining her pre-dawn walk to them. However, she left out a few details, notably the path splitting after the bridge.

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