The Woods Behind Cascadia Home

Okay, readers... Just a heads-up... we're heading into some pretty sappy "romance" territory (in the first part of this chapter—before we get to the juicy-stuff!), because it's where the characters have taken me... But, still, the sex is still gonna' be rather torrid, and explicit... so, at least there's that...

;)

So, "If you be my Dixie chicken; I'll be your Tennessee lamb..." LOL!

CHAPTER-2:

The Picnic

After breakfast—and another vigorous session of more, incredible, sex—Merry, quite unexpectedly, handed Tom a list scrawled in pencil, and asked, "If you would pick these items up from the mercantile, today?.. Your food-stocks are shameful—pathetic, actually—and I don't know how to cook all those colorful boxes of iced-foods you have in the ice-box. But they don't seem very wholesome and healthy to me, anyway... 'Bachelors,'" she said to herself, ruefully, shaking her head in playful admonition, "you'd eat worms and crickets, if you thought you wouldn't have to cook them!"

"Of course, Your Highness," Tom replied, as he laughed at her (quite accurate) description of the bachelor's culinary expertise, "Every request of my wife is the same as a command from the Almighty, and I'm

her

most-humble servant," he finished, with his best imitation of a flourished courtly-bow, worthy of The Globe Theatre.

The little half-goblin laughed back at his overly-dramatic words and display, and whacked him on his bowed head for good measure, saying, "And hurry up with it!.. We're going for a picnic with Ziffy this afternoon in the forest. There's a nice pond, and we might go swimming, too! It'll be fun! You'll see!"

***

It was almost noon when Tom pulled his truck onto the single-lane-road leading to Cascadia Home. He had woke up late that morning, at six. After all, he had had quite a workout, between Ziffy and Merry, the day before. He had left at nine, an hour into Philomath, an hour of shopping, and an hour back. And, truly, he worried about little Merry being discovered in his cottage, but the thought was quickly push aside. After all, she had gone for more than a century of remaining undetected by the mundane world that surrounded her.

His concern for her surprised him. He had just met the girl, and he already was beginning to feel a deep connection to her. And while her more innocent definition of "wife" wasn't nearly the same as his own, still... Do I actually love her, already, he asked himself, so quickly?

He cared for her, he knew. That much was plain. Yet with all of his failed attempts at finding "the one," had he found "her" in this mottled pink-and-green creature of folklore?

This was all just happening too fast. His world had changed, over night! He felt the panic, the anxiety, coming on, and quickly squelched... Just calm down, Tom, he told himself. It seems that there is life after retirement, he mused. It was just, now, he had a new purpose, and new responsibilities. And, that thought was actually quite comforting. And although he half expected to get home, and find an empty cottage, with no secret door, no goblin-bride, no magical forest out back, and all of this had been just some

really

vivid, erotic dream... He, somehow, was also certain that Merry would be there waiting for him.

***

"C'mon, slow-poke," Merry chided him, as they neared the exit of her tunnel into the forest, "Keep-up, keep-up..."

Earlier, he was worried over getting her out to the forest unseen. Tom thought he might have to wrap her in a blanket, and carry her like a sack of potatoes—along with all the other picnic supplies—until they were out-of-sight of the manor. But, once again, he didn't take into account that she had survived here, undetected, for well over a hundred-years. He should've figured that all of his worrying was for not.

While he was in town, he had picked up a few other items not on the list Merry had provided him. Namely, and most importantly, the very revealing bikini. It was a hot-pink, halter-top/g-string number made from iridescent lycra. And when he presented it to her, she pulled a confused expression, and asked him, "What's this? Some kind of undergarment?"

"No, it's a bikini," he told her, and her expression became even more befuddled, so he explained, "It's bathing-suit, you go swimming in it."

"Wow," she exclaimed, her eyes widening as she examined the tiny garment, "It's much more pretty than the one Papa had got me for picnics at the pond! And that one was so big, I feared it would soak with water, and pull me under. So, I never wore it; I just went naked. But I wanna' wear this one! Can I put it on, now?"

Consequently, Tom followed behind Merry, admiringly. She had only put her denim-shorts over the bottoms, and donned a pair of sandals. He was a lucky man, he reckoned.

Ziffy was there, waiting for them at the pond, when they arrived. Of course, she was naked, and Tom couldn't help but to pop an immediate boner—which he did his best to hide, but to no avail.

"My-my, Merry, you got yourself quite a husband, there," the nymph declared, gesturing to the obvious, most pronounced, "tent" in his swimming shorts, "I hope you intend to share?!"

"Of course," Merry announced, cheerfully, "Just like before, with Francis. But, he is

my

husband, and all you little hussies in the forest need to respect that fact," she proclaimed, so infatically, that there was no need to put her hands on her hips and stomp the ground.

"Understood, my love," Ziffy replied, with a sweet smile, as she brushed Merry's bangs from her eyes, and offered, "Let me help you with those..."

Tom and Merry had brought quite a bit with them, and not just the traditional picnic-basket and blanket. They had, of course, brought those items. But there was also a cooler full of iced libations, beach towels, and some of those things not on Merry's list: sun-block, bug repellent, the camping equipment he had told Ziffy about, extra clothing, and the fixings for s'mores. And for good measure, considering that they were going to be out in the wilderness, Tom even packed his .41-magnum Python.

"What's all this," Merry had asked, after he got home earlier, "I said it was a picnic, not a safari..."

"Well, why not just stay all night out there?.. Make it a party," he said, excitedly, although his ulterior motives were obvious. Other than in places like Thailand (back in his navy-days), he never hooked-up a successful "threeway" with two girls. He had a lot of close-calls, but there always seemed to be something that would dash his plans before the act could come to fruition. And this didn't go unnoticed by his little, green wife...

"Yes, it does sound like

fun

," she purred at him, with a lurid, sideways glance, "if you think you can survive the night," she commented, offhandedly, almost to herself. And then asked in a tone that was somewhere between playful and derisive, "Is that what the pistol is for?"

Tom's cock twitched, and he swallowed a lump in his throat. It wasn't a lump formed by mortal fear (as her literal words had referred to). It was the metaphorical subtext, of her obvious jest, that had formed a lump that said to him, "Hey, 'Stud'... maybe you bit-off a little more than you can chew, this time..."

Tom made sure to bring plenty of fresh vegetables. He wasn't sure, but from all he had read about faerie-kind, was that they were vegetarians—although, Merry had cooked fried-chicken for this occasion. He soon found out that all the fantasy-stories were wrong, as Ziffy went after the chicken with a ravenous abandon!

"Oh, by-the-gods," the wood-nymph exclaimed, with her eyes rolling, and an orgasmic look on her face, "you make the best fried-chicken," she compliment Merry, as she inhaled yet another thigh.

"Better than Miss Elmira's," Merry asked, as if doubting the compliment, and then informed her, "I did learn how to cook it from her, you know..."

"Okay, I know," Ziffy began to admit, as she tossed the stripped bone over her shoulder, and grabbed a leg, "Elmira's from 'The South'—whatever that is—and they make the best fried-chicken. Yuri told us plenty of times..."

Tom would learn later that Elmira Johnston was the cook for the old Roslov Estate from 1888, to 1938, when she passed. The woman was a young widow from Arkansas that Yuri found in a St. Louis brothel a couple of years after the death of her husband. It just so happened that she was also the main cook for that brothel, and Yuri was not only impressed with her skills in the

boudoir

, but also was impressed with her skills in the kitchen. So, when he left St. Louis, he brought Elmira with him.

"Haven't you girls ever heard of

KFC

," Tom asked, sardonically.

"What's a 'kayefsy,'" Merry asked him in return, just before she popped another kalamata olive in her mouth, and then took a strong pull off her wine glass.

"Never mind," Tom replied, realizing his joke had fallen flat. And then decided to fawn over his new bride, saying "The Colonel can't make no chicken this good, no-how," he proclaimed with an exaggerated Southern drawl.

Merry laughed, and almost spit-up her wine, but managed to say, after she got it down, "Hey, you sound just like Elmira!"

But, now, it was Ziffy's turn to interject, as she queried, "What the fuck is with all these vegetables? I'm so sick of tubers, and berries, and nuts, and gourds, and all-that-nonsense!.. Only when Merry comes out here, do I get some decent fried-chicken, or pot-roast, or pork-chops!.. Next time, Thomas, leave the veggies at home," she concluded, with playful scorn. But, then, she leaned forward over the basket, searched for a moment, and withdrew a good-sized cucumber, and offered, "Let me show you what this is good for!"

Ziffy leaned back, and spread her legs wide, as she began to run the length of the cucumber over her moistening slit. Momentarily, she'd stop, and prod at the opening to her sex with the tip of the thick vegetable, only to go back to running it over her gash. Until, finally (and much to the glee of her onlookers), she sunk the green phallus deep inside her.

The nymph gyrated her hips at the penetration, groaning, as Merry set down her wine glass, and crawled on all-fours over to her. Brushing her hand out of they way, Merry took hold of the cucumber, and began fucking her sylvan friend with it. While Tom just simply sat back, pulled out his cock, and began to stroke.

There wasn't anyway this wasn't going to turn into a threesome, a full-on-fuck-fest, Tom thought to himself. And the only other thought that crossed his mind was that he wished he would've discovered these woods thirty-years ago! None-the-less, the retired electrician was enjoying the show! Especially when his new bride began to lick at the nymph, as she rammed the veggie into that tight snatch. And, it got even better when Ziffy started to cum.

As Ziffy wailed her release, as Merry's hand was buried inside of her shorts, and under her bikini-bottom. Tom could see her little hand working at her nethers as she pleasured the nymph. And Tom, having (as of yet) received no invitation, decided to let the this scene play-out. He reckoned, when he was needed, he would be called into action. In the meantime, he was more than happy to just watch these two beautiful nubiles in their carnal play.

After the nymph had a shuddering orgasm, the two broke just long enough for Merry to get undressed. And with the cucumber still in hand, she laid over the top of Ziffy, situating her oozing snatch within tongue's reach from her friend's mouth.

Tom's mind was awash with lust, and disbelief, as he looked down upon the pair of his otherworldly lovers, writhing against one another, locked in their sapphic act. His cock throbbed in his hand, witnessing the nymph lapping and suckling hungrily at the half-goblin's sopping folds, and watching little Merry resumed driving the green vegetable deep inside the other, while she was reciprocating the oral-favor.

Truly, he would've been happy just to stand there, pleasuring himself, while he looked-on at the scene. But he was ecstatic when Merry suddenly looked up at him, and said, "What are you waiting for, my husband?"

This was all of what Tom had been anxiously waiting for as he hurriedly stripped all of his clothes. He moved in behind Merry, astride Ziffy's head. As the nymph was a good foot taller than his goblin-bride, Ziffy had her head raised off the blanket to reach Merry's little pussy. But now, she could give her neck a rest, laying her head back down, to accommodate Tom joining them.

Tom aimed his turgid crown at his little lover's inflamed sex, and gently pushed inside. Due to her size, she was unbelievably tight, and it took a fair amount of pressure to slip past her constrictive opening. But the great volumes of viscous nectar she produced (both of them did, for that matter) made the seemingly impossible much easier, as he buried his rigid manhood as deep as it would go.

Merry moaned loudly, and began to cum almost immediately. This was another thing that Tom found the two had in common, as they were both hyper-orgasmic, and he wondered if all the magical-creatures that lived in this forest were like this. She began to wail and spasm as he thrust at her, and her juices gushed, splashing onto Ziffy's breasts and neck. And it was scant moments later, that the beautiful nymph was, likewise, launched into orgasm.

The forest echoed with the climactic calls of the pair, while Tom pumped his tumescent rod into her vice-like nethers as her body quaked, and her voice cried-out. Then he felt Ziffy's warm, wet tongue begin to drag over his balls with his every thrust, and he could hold back no longer.

"Can't... stop it... Merry," he manage to grunt-out, as he felt the burning in his loins, and the electrostatic jolts of climax that caused his thrusts to become more like uncontrolled spasms. It was then that he felt Ziffy pull him from his beautiful Merry's ravage box, and the nymph's mouth wrap around his pulsating tool.

Tom emptied his balls into Ziffy's mouth as she suckled him, hungrily, swallowing every last drop of his sticky cum.

The three fell into a single, carnal pile of flesh... human, wood-nymph, and half-goblin... And all the trio could do was pant-out their post-orgasmic elation, while smiling at each other, as they tried to catch their breath. However, it was Merry that spoke first, "That was great! But now it's time to go swimming!.."