Many moons ago, I set out to find salacious tree erotica. This week, I'm immensely proud to announce that I have found it.
Once the divorce came through, Arthur left the city and moved to the cottage in Wales he'd once inherited from his Uncle Killy. It was far from everything and everyone, which suited Arthur perfectly.
He drank too much for a while, and since he worked from home, he didn't really go out much, either. Just a drive to the nearest village once a week to do grocery shopping. He let himself go. Six months later, he realised he'd gained two stones.
He must have gained stones of steal, considering what happens next.
He decided to get back in shape. It was a project as good as any. There weren't any gyms nearby, and the landscape was captivating, so he started going for long country walks.
It was on one of his walks he happened upon the tree. People said the tree was really an enchanted sorcerer with a huge hard-on.
No, please, go on. I would love to know where this is going.
The spell could only be broken by taking his cock to the root,
and giving him a good fuck. The sorcerer would then wake up, and become your grateful servant. Morgana had told him the legend when they were thirteen, and they'd both squealed in horrified glee, laughing and laughing until their sides ached.
He didn't think it was funny now.
How in the fuck could this not be funny?
See? Funny. I’m going to read your enchanted tree porn, but you’d have to be one hell of a writer to make me take it seriously.
The tree cock was huge. Arthur examined it, curious.
Bi-curious, one could say.
He had some toys that could be considered extreme, but they were nothing like this monster. He stroked it, realised his cock had plumped.
Hey dipshit, you forgot your conjunction. I came here to get lost in a world of erotic makebelieve, not to get distracted by your lack of proofreading.
He adjusted himself through his trousers, squeezed a little.
Again? I guess that one could technically work, if the second clause is passive rather than active. But I’m watching you, writer.
He looked around. There was no one about. He leaned against the tree, got his cock out, and had a wank. The bark was cold against his arse. He came so hard, spilling white onto the thick knurl of the tree's cock.
Wow. That might be the most underwhelming sex scene I’ve ever read. Congratulations Sophy.
He couldn't stop thinking about it. Over the next week, he only used his biggest toys, and stretched himself as far as he would go every night. He liked the way his arse looked after the weight gain. Sure, it could use some more definition, but he liked it big. He was pretty sure it had become more sensitive.
But shouldn’t that be the opposite of what he wants? Far be it from me to tell him how to do his business, but I would think he’d want to feel this as little as possible, if the size really is so extreme.
He always fantisised about the tree when he played with himself,
Fun Fact: Every time this sentence is written down, an English teacher gets stabbed in the soul.
and eventually, he decided he would do it; he would ride the tree cock,
I’m getting &lldquo;Ride the Tree Cock” tattooed across my buttcheeks tomorrow and none of you can stop me.
get it all inside his needy hole. He'd never done this sort of mad, reckless stuff, but he wanted to now, while he was still young. He looked at his arse in the mirror, ended up taking a selfie with his biggest plug inside.
You can do this, he told himself.
He trained for a month to make sure he could take and ride the tree cock.
Cue Rocky music.
He gained muscle, but didn't lose much of the fat. He bought bigger toys, better quality lube.
I don’t know if you noticed Arthur, but trees are covered in bark; all the lube in the world won’t do much more than act as a minor courtesy to the tree.
He learned to take anything,
- Large hadron collider
- Statue of Liberty
- His own asshole
- A kangaroo—whole
- Tree dick
stretched himself like he'd never stretched himself before.
By the time he was ready and went back to the tree, it was the end of May, and the nights were warmer. It was dusk when he arrived, with a well-stocked bag. He'd prepped himself at home: he was clean, stretched, lubed, and turned on.
Sounds like an average Friday night if you ask me.
Now it was just a case of doing it.
He stripped. He found the nipple clamps he'd brought with him, and put them on.
Care to explain that one, Sophy?
The stimulation would help distract him from the sensations in his arse, if it got too much at some point.
Okay, sure, I’ll buy it.
He touched the tree. Not just the cock, but the trunk, the branches that looked like multiple arms, the gnarled roots that attached it to the ground.
Ladies and gentlemen, dendroid foreplay. God I love the internet.
It made him hard. He wanked a bit, kneeling by the tree, touching the tree cock he was about to fuck. He leaned in and kissed it. It was very smooth: big and bulbous.
Arthur licked at it. With the hand that wasn't on his cock, he reached behind himself and toyed with his hole. It was a little slack,
Yeah, kangaroos will do that to ya.
open enough that it seemed to mouth at his fingers, like it wanted to suck them in.
When he realised what he was doing, how horny the idea of fucking a tree was making him, Arthur got up again. He wanted to do this, so desperately.
He'd brought the biggest pack of anal lube he could find,
“I need the biggest pack of anal lube you have.”
“Big plans tonight?”
“Big, rough, and grainy.”
“...Well good luck with that.”
and as he began to lovingly smother the tree cock, he knew he would need it all. He rubbed his entire face and chest against it as he prepped it, until he was as slick as the branch. He felt like he was worshipping it.
God, he could barely believe this was him doing this. A year ago, he'd been an up-tight, suit-clad, toned and starved head of a IT company. Now he was some sort of shameless, body-positive slut-bear with a penchant for trees.
But really, who among us can say that they aren’t a slut-bear hot for trees?
It was glorious.
"I'm going to give you the fuck of a lifetime," he whispered against the cold, smooth bark.
He turned around, presented his arse. He leaned over, then rubbed his hole against the tip of the knurl.
Knurl: A word that was never used in erotica until today.
He grabbed a another branch for support, and bore down as he slowly pressed against it. Grateful, his hungry arse began to open, accepting the challenge. With a groan, Arthur took more. He stopped when he was about halfway down. He was in a sort of squatting position now, propped up on a branch like an angel on a Christmas tree.
He was sweating. He felt full. It was an indecent feeling, but Arthur enjoyed it. He rubbed his belly. Below it, his cock was rock hard, already leaking. He knew it'd all be over in a few moments if he touched it, and he would prefer to come from anal stimulation alone.
He circled his hips, rocked back and forth, until he felt his prostate being stimulated. The branch had felt cold, at first, but now it was warming. It felt good. He clenched around it. Slow at first, tentative, then firmer. He began toying with his nipples. He had honest-to-God moobs now, and they jiggled as he moved. He liked it. He pulled at the clamps, relished the pain that matched the hot ache from his hole, and the strained muscles of his thighs and arse.
You just read an uninterrupted paragraph of tree porn. You’re welcome.
His orgasm surprised him, and almost made him topple. With a sigh, he fell back against the tree. Despite the rhythmic clench of his inner muscles, he slid further along the cock, and took more of it. When he came to, he reached down to finger at his stretched skin. God, he was so well stuffed. The pride diminished somewhat as he let his fingers slip along the branch. There was still a bit to go.
He sighed, began to rub his belly again. He couldn't feel the tree cock,
but it was nice thinking of it in there, impaling him, stretching him wide around its rude girdth. He put more weight on his arse, less on his straining thighs. Everything was slicked to perfection, and it didn't hurt much. He felt like he could have given birth at this point, he was so open.
He could barely grasp that his body was capable of such a feat, and the thought made him thrum with a sort of lust that ran deeper than his spent cock.
He pushed again, breathing like he'd learned to do from the videos on extreme stretching. He could feel the branch slide deeper, felt his body open helplessly around it.
"Oh, God," he moaned, and tears streamed down his already sweat-damp face.
He pushed again, and at last he felt the trunk against his arse, and he was squatting on the ground, with the entire thing inside his gut. He'd done what no one else had done.
He’d done what no one else had done; because no one else had wanted to.
He'd taken the tree cock all the way. The thought was humbling. He'd never been so full in his life, and his hole was stretched beyond belief. He sat there, naked, sweaty and slick all over with lube, with a tree up his arse, and felt like the king of the fucking world.
He tugged gently at his nipple clamps, but not even that could take his awareness from his man-cunt.
"Okay," he said out loud. "Now all I have to do is ride you."
...Isn’t that what was already happening? Is there terminology that I’m missing here? Do I want to know if there’s terminology I’m missing here?
That was easier said than done. His thighs were in a good shape again, but right now they were trembling from the exertion. But Arthur wasn't a quitter. He clenched his teeth, and with a groan, he lifted himself, then sank down again. It felt amazing. He felt all the tension in his body begin to transform into lust.
He started to move. He could no longer clench - being stretched to the absolute limit - but trying to clench to find that he couldn't was its own kind of awesome. He moved up and down, feeling the huge thing slide back and forth inside him. A new orgasm was building inside him, and he didn't even know how. His cock was still limp. He was being stimulated in parts he'd never known existed, his mantits bouncing as he sped up.
I know I should comment more, but to be perfectly honest, I’m just speechless at this point. So let’s continue.
And then, at some point, he realised that he'd stopped moving, but that he was still being fucked.
He opened his mouth to scream, but the only sound that escaped him was a needy moan. He was gripped by branches that slid around him, encasing him completely, tickling every sweet spot on his body. The fucking grew harder, almost unbearable. He came like that, trussed up, stuffed full, his cock still limp.
When he came to,
something was still moving, squelching in his slack arse. But there were no branches around him anymore. Just strong, sinewy arms, pale against his own bronzed skin.
Oh by the way, this has been King Arthur fanfiction the whole time. I left that out because it literally doesn’t matter.
He didn't even know where the name had come from. It simply spilled from his mouth, like it had always lived in his mind.
Merlin let out a moan, and Arthur felt his squishy insides being soothed by the warmth of his come.
When Merlin's grip loosened, Arthur fell forward on the ground. Merlin ended up draped over him, still inside, still hard.
Arthur smiled. He remembered Merlin, from before. They'd been lovers, ages and ages ago. In another life.
"I'd almost given up hope," Merlin said, and pinched Arthur's belly.
WELL MERLIN IT’S A GOOD THING ARTHUR IS SUCH A GODDAMN TREE PERVERT, OTHERWISE YOU REALLY WOULD’VE BEEN S.O.L. THERE.
"Can I have another go? I've waited for so long."
"Only if you carry me home," Arthur managed.
“Because I literally can’t walk right now.”
The idea of another fuck was tempting in a masochistic kind of way. "I'm not sure I'll be able to walk."
Oh look, canon. Neat.
Merlin moved, and Arthur sighed; it hurt so good.
"You're lucky I still have magic," Merlin said. "You're bigger than I remembered you."
"Do you mind?" Arthur whispered, already on the brink of losing himself again.
Merlin just reached around him, to pull at Arthur's nipple clamps and fondle him. "Are you mad? There's more of you! How's that a bad thing? And you have titties!"
He pushed harder, and Arthur cried out as he came again and again, waves of pleasure that emptied his balls and left him wrung out and helpless in Merlin's arms.
It was as it should be, as it was always meant to be.
So that’s what tree erotica looks like. All I can say is, it was worth the wait.