A Walk in the Woods - Cover

A Walk in the Woods

Copyright© 2017 by Wyden Long

Chapter 2

Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 2 - An unusual walk in the woods that fulfills all his fantasies. Is it real? Could it be a trap? He would be faced with some monumental decisions. (This story was hard to categorize with available choices.)

Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Fiction   non-anthro   Nudism  

While we remained coupled, my companion began tweeting, chirping and singing what must have been bird and animal calls of various types.

Soon, there was a menagerie congregated at our trysting glade. Deer-like animals leapt and frolicked. Peacock-looking birds strolled and others that might be some form of Robin flitted and splashed in the water. All seemed completely comfortable with our presence. I had to assume that it was her presence that made the difference between now and yesterday, when the forest had quietened at my approach.

She (I think I will call her Diana, for lack of a more accurate name), sat up straighter on my rod, thus forcing it further into her tight channel. She looked at me sort of questioningly as she began slowly rotating her hips and milking me with her internal muscles.

The ecstatic expression on my face must have answered her question, because she intensified her activities. My prong had sort of adopted a hibernating hard condition. It was fully extended, but not completely rigid. It allowed her to use me for her purposes as a semi-sentient dildo. If this be slavery, make the most of it.

In order to further our relationship a bit and try to answer at least some of my questions, I allowed my enjoyment of her gyrations to recede into the background while I initiated some sort of communications with her. I pointed to myself and said, “Dave”.

Diana continued working that thing while she digested the possible implications of what I had said. Without any change to her wonderful sexual activities, we embarked on a journey of understanding.

She pointed at me and said, “Day-vuh”.

I thought that was pretty good for a first try and nodded my head.

She squealed and bounced a little higher, while tightening things I did not realize could be any tighter. If she got any more excited, I would need major surgery soon.

Then she pointed to herself and said, “Dee-anah”.

Holy shit! What are the odds of that? Did she read my mind? Did I read hers? How the hell could that work?

Dee-anah smiled and bounced even higher at the amazed expression on my face. She squinted a little as if pondering something, then relaxed as it must have come to her. “Day-uh, Dee-anah phuque?”. She seemed very pleased with herself.

Ok, picking my brain for the name Diana was one thing. Changing the pronunciation from Diana with a long “i” to Diana with a Spanish “i” was another thing, entirely. How did this work? “Phuque” she could have gotten phonetically, but how could she know to pronounce it as if it were spelled differently? This girl was just full of surprises.

She was also sloshing in my sperm. There was no way to know how much she had extracted from me during the night, but in my waking moments, she must have inhaled a quart or so. I wondered if she had gotten me off during the night without my knowledge. Damn! Had she caused a wet dream and I didn’t even remember it?

“Day-vuh, suque”, she said as she uncorked herself and slid up to plant her coral pink fluttery tissues on my chin, as she allowed my precious fluids to be returned. Maybe she thought they would go back to where they had previously been stored in my body. Who knows? Oh, well. It wasn’t as if it were somebody else’s junk. I had tasted my own, from time to time, just being a little edgy, and had no big problem with it. If doing so made her happy enough to keep “phuquing”, then who was I to complain?

Hey! How come she changed Diana to Dee-anah, but left Dave as Day-vuh, instead of Dah-veh? So many mysteries.

As I pondered these unknowns, Dee-anah swiveled her cute little tuckus around to put my nose on her clit and allow her to once more swallow me. This time, down her throat instead of in her lower canal and tributaries. Apparently, Elves, Fairies or whatever species I had lucked into don’t have a need to breath or a gag reflex. She took every damned inch, all the way to her voice box and began humming. No, I did not throat-fuck her. I merely allowed her to use her throat on me in ways that my home world did not conceive of.

Which made me wonder again about where the hell I had gotten myself to, and why. Then Dee-anah hummed again, making me forget to worry about it.

When I shot off this time, it was more like pissing, as my juices began flowing in a constant stream instead of spurts. Dee-anah was also flowing a stream down my throat. The remainder of my fluids had run dry and were now replaced with hers. Again, it was as if we were replacing fluids that could be recycled infinitely. I could live with that.

I lost count of the days. We remained continuously coupled in one configuration or another at all times when we weren’t forced to part momentarily for elimination purposes. There always seemed to be an adequate supply of food and drink within reaching distance and the temperature never strayed from a very comfortable range.

We phuqued and phuqued and phuqued all over the phuquing place. If I wasn’t in her one way, I was in her in another way. Her inventiveness and inexhaustibility were awesome. It made me wonder if my equipment would fall off at some point, How did my body keep up with demands that it had never known to be on the list of potential requirements?

My best guess was that we had been at it for ten or fifteen days when she looked a bit queasy one morning. After checking herself, she smiled and stood while holding her arms out to me. With a smile, she told me. “Bambino”, while rubbing her stomach.

So, ok, now we are Italian?” Oh well. Does that mean that my phuquing days are over?

Dee-anah led me through the remaining woods to the edge of fields and eventually to a village. On entering the village, a young girl took one look at Dee-anah and ran screaming through the village, “Dee-anah, Dee-anah. Bambino!”

This was getting crazy now. Something was fluttering at the edge of my mind. What was it? Oh, yeah. We were still naked and so was the little girl. As I watched, the path between the buildings filled with people (?), or at least beings of some sort, and came rushing to meet us. To my relief and intense enjoyment, they were all gloriously naked.

When I say “glorious”, I don’t mean it as much in the glorious freedom of nudity sense as in the sense of “what a bunch of glorious bodies that are as naked as I am and as naked as I would wish them to be.”

Dee-anah was swarmed by well wishers who patted, caressed and stared at her exceedingly small belly bump that they seemed to accept without question as proof of pregnancy.

Then I took another look at the villagers and noticed something that was very definitely missing. There were no males of any type. I also noticed that all the females who had completed their inspection and congratulations with Dee-anah were now heading my way with big smiles on their faces. A man made of less stern stuff may have wilted under the implied pressure, but I found myself rising to the occasion, as it were.

This must be an extremely civilized society because there was no pushing or shoving, but it became abundantly clear that I would be expected to impregnate every female in the village. The younger ones who were definitely off the table today would be old enough to bed by the time I worked my way around the harem.

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