πŸ“š morning-wood Part 23 of 18
morning-wood-23
FETISH STORIES

Morning Wood 23

Morning Wood 23

by spicysalami
12 min read
4.69 (9800 views)
adultfiction

CW for genital terms for a trans man that include "cunt".

Arthur refers to his cl!toris as his "cock" and "prick". I'm a trans guy, and this is what felt the sexiest & most natural to me! πŸ’

Also: CW for some brief invasive personal questions Arthur recalls being asked before sex.

(I'm also an upstate NY trans guy, so I tried to flavor the backdrop accordingly.)

The exposition is very sweet and I'm quite proud of it, but if you're desperate to get to the horny part you can start at the 🌲🌳🌲 icons. πŸ’•

-----------------------------------------------------

It had been almost two weeks since Arthur had touched himself, and he was really starting to feel it.

Arthur was a 26 year-old trans guy who usually resided in NYC, but he had agreed to spend this spring break back at home. Right now he was upstate at his dad's house, nestled deep within the woods and uncomfortably far from any place that served coffee that didn't taste burned.

"We can always take the truck into town if ya get bored, okay?" His dad had assured him. But what was there to drive to, really? A diner, a gas station, maybe an antique store? Arthur had been raised here, and there was a reason he had wanted to leave home for college. (That, along with some local small-mindedness.)

But there was also something wonderfully soothing about the way the trees blanketed the land with quiet, so that only the chirping of insects and frogs could be heard at night.

That was one of the biggest things he had been missing ever since he started college - the deep, velvety quiet.

Arthur awoke one morning to find a note taped to his bathroom mirror. It said that his dad had gone into town for coffee with some old friends, but that he would be back around noon with donuts.

It was a sweet gesture, one that stirred a little warmth in his gut. Arthur had been sulking a bit for the last week or so - he was starting to miss his friends more and more as boredom settled in. But his dad had asked him to visit, and it seemed like he really wanted Arthur to be here - it felt like he had missed him, all alone out here.

Arthur had missed him too.

He decided then and there that he would try to be more present, that he would try harder to enjoy the weeks he had left with his dad before the break ended.

In the chaos of packing for spring break and trying not to miss his bus, Arthur had forgotten something that would've made the solitude (and his attitude) much better - his vibrator.

School was stressful, and relationships were complicated. But masturbation never needed to wade through a messy web of questions that Arthur needed to answer before he could feel safe and comfortable unclothed with anyone.

Are you comfortable doing it without your binder? What terms should I use to refer to your bits? I've never been with a guy without a dick before - is this still gay?

They were obviously good questions, but the complexities of his erotic encounters as a trans person were honestly just too tiring to get into sometimes. That, and the general gender dysphoria that came with being perceived naked.

His vibrator was simple, and quiet. His vibrator was there for him whenever he needed relief, no questions asked. His vibrator couldn't discern between a clit and a dick.

The times that felt the best to Arthur were the times where he would hold the shaft of the vibrator erect like a penis, with the vibrating head pressed against his most sensitive parts. In this position he could jerk the shaft like a real dick - an especially incredible sight to behold, with a blanket covering him. He could feel real pleasure while tricking his brain into thinking he was stroking his very own, very real penis.

Arthur's thoughts were getting him wet, and a hot tingle was starting to tease his groin. He had been like this for days, perpetually horny but unsatisfied by his easily-tiring hands and their inability to get him off. (Damn his art major and its demand on his hands...)

Arthur got dressed and stepped out into the woods, hoping that a brisk morning walk would clear his mind and calm him down.

🌲🌳🌲 🌳🌲 🌳🌲

After walking for a good while, Arthur sat down on a fallen tree to sip some water. He marveled at how much louder the woods seemed once you were deep within them - little chirps and buzzes and bird calls seemed to come from every side. Arthur leaned back and inhaled deeply, practically able to taste the newly blooming wildflowers all around him.

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He really had missed this, he realized.

While admiring the trees that surrounded him, his eyes came to rest on a peculiar specimen. Directly across from his seat was a massive old tree - one that looked like it had died ages ago, but had refused to fall.

The thing about this gentle giant that captured his interest above all else was an unmistakably phallic-looking branch, one that stood erect at an almost embarrassingly pleasing angle.

Arthur walked closer, eyebrows raising as he realized just how smooth and thick the little branch was. It almost looked as if someone had carved it.

He stood right beside it, and realized that it was right at crotch height.

I'm absolutely losing my horny-ass mind. It's a fucking TREE. Am I literally so desperate that I'm getting hot and bothered over a tree?

He was, he realized. He was literally throbbing in heat over a tree branch that looked somewhat phallic.

Arthur looked around to double-check, but there was no one anywhere around for miles. Only birds and bugs and trees.

Arthur reached into his jeans and dipped his hand below the elastic of his briefs. His fingers wasted no time finding the sensitive nub of his cock, and the burning hot wetness that was pooling beneath. He traced some of the slick wetness onto his throbbing prick and began to trace circles around it.

His body was so needy, so pent-up from the past two weeks that his breath was already hitching in his throat. A warmth roared low in his belly as his fingers worked their circles, his tiny manhood beginning to grow and harden. He couldn't remember the last time that he had felt quite so sensitive.

....You know what? Fuck it.

Arthur let his pants drop down to his knees as he fished through his backpack for a packet of hand wipes, tearing them open and thoroughly wiping the branch from tip to base. Embarrassingly enough, it felt almost intimate.

He unzipped another compartment to see if he could find any rogue condoms laying around, and - lo and behold - there one was! His final, foil-packaged saving grace.

Arthur opened the condom and rolled it down onto the branch, his cheeks flushing hot as he realized just how perfectly it fit. This part

definitely

felt intimate.

Arthur hadn't experienced penetration in months, and his nerves began to set in. He removed his briefs and let them fall, moving to press the small mound of his cock against the condomed branch. He began to move his hips, slowly stroking his shaft up and down over the rigid thickness. His eyes fluttered closed and his lips parted, his breath growing ragged.

Fuck.

Fuck!

Small sounds began to escape his throat as his hips bucked against the branch, but even with no one around he couldn't bring himself to fully unleash a moan. The slick of his lust was now coating the wood as sweat began to drip down his neck.

Arthur teased a finger into his cunt, and when it entered with almost no resistance he added a second. He pressed firmly against the spongy area that was knuckle-deep and began to massage himself.

It was now or never.

Arthur peeled himself away from the branch and turned to face away from the tree, inching backwards towards his prize. He spread his cheeks with one hand, guiding the tip of the wood up to his cunt with the other. Arthur took a deep breath to ease his nerves, and then began - at a painfully slow pace - to lower down onto the thick branch.

As he sunk down onto the rigid wood, the fullness of it had a sting. But Arthur was so desperate, so painfully horny, and so determined to give himself a good fucking.

He kept sinking down until his buttocks were flush against the bark of the tree, exhaling raggedly. He had done it - he was fully fucking penetrated by a tree.

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Arthur tried to move his hips, and he gasped as the small knobs of the wood stroked against the tight walls of his cunt. He moved forward until the branch was almost outside of him, then gently sank his weight back down. It amazed him just how solid this tree felt - it didn't even shake.

Arthur tried to start a gentle rhythm, the rigid pressure of the wood inside him rendering him lightheaded. His hand returned to his cock, where he continued rubbing in sloppy circles. The combination of friction both inside and outside of him made him finally whine out loud - a painful, hungry sound.

He began to move faster, his buttocks softly bouncing against the tree with every deep thrust. As his fingers massaged his prick, the sliding of the wood into his body was beginning to create an obscenely wet slapping sound. Arthur didnt know if he had ever been so wet.

Arthur's cunt gripped the wood hungrily. His hips began to pick up speed, now feverishly rutting forward and back against the tree. The branch's angle was almost perfect from behind - not too vertical to miss his g-spot. While he had never been very sensitive internally, the relentless pressure of the pounding was beginning to make him tingly and sweaty. His hand was starting to get tired, so he began rubbing more furiously.

His finger hit just the right spot at the side of his throbbing cock, and his knees began to buckle.

He hadn't come in weeks, and the tension building in his belly was actually painful.

His gasps were becoming ragged now, each exhale punctuated with a sharp throaty moan as he continued to fuck himself desperately on the thick branch.

The friction of his fingers across his prick was sending electricity all the way down to his feet, and tears were beginning to pool in his eyes. Arthur was getting so close, so

fucking close

, but he didn't know how much longer he could keep this up. His hips were bucking back on the tree as fast and as hard as they could, but the pressure inside of him was building torturously slowly.

Arthur's juices were dripping down his thighs now. He rubbed some of the wetness onto his finger and traced it directly onto his throbbing cock. Gasping under the newly slick friction, he rubbed even harder and faster and began to see stars.

Hmm - ah! Ahh, hnhhn... ahh!!

Arthur howled desperately as his fingers continued to work his cock, his hips stopping their movement as his legs began to shake. Hot vibrations worked their way out from his belly and into all of his limbs, rendering him boneless. And yet he continued to rub himself hard and fast, desperate to milk out every last ounce of release that he could get from this orgasm.

His body was clenching so hard around the branch that it was painful to move. But in one last act of rebellion, Arthur sat back

hard

- filling his cunt up to the hilt, buttocks flush against bark. Tears began to fall down his cheeks as he gutterally cried out.

Arthur sat impaled on the tree with his pants down around his ankles for what seemed like eons. As his trembling subsided and his muscles began to relax, he wiped the sweat from his brow and felt his heart begin to calm down beneath his binder.

Oh, my

God.

With a deep breath, Arthur slowly lifted himself up off of the tree. His tight hole wanted to grip every inch, and it took a fair amount of restraint to keep himself from starting the process all over again.

Arthur slowly slid up to the branch's head, and popped it out of his body wetly.

He rolled the condom off and gave the tree a small, thankful pat.

He couldn't believe how much stress had just been bled out of him -

he already felt so much lighter, so much more focused.

Arhur used a wipe to clean the cum off of his legs and hands, avoiding his sensitive bits. He pulled his briefs and jeans up, buttoned them, and began the long scenic walk back to the house.

The birds were singing, and he could smell the donuts already.

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