House of Holes

Luna Fucks a Penis Tree

Luna woke up in the House of Holes Hotel. She had a great contentment bubbling inside her like the little bubbles that you see when you shake up a bottle of salad dressing.

“So,” said Lila to Luna, when Luna wandered into her office after a shower. “What is your plan for joy today?”

“I feel pretty today,” said Luna.

“You are pretty,” said Lila.

“My breasts feel heavy and flirty. Do you want to see them?”

“Yes, of course, always,” said Lila. “But let me call in a man so he can see, too.”

“No,” said Luna, “just for you.”

Luna lifted her clean, pale-blue shirt and scooped her bra up slowly, letting her breasts fall and bobble.

“They do look heavy,” said Lila. “And flirty.”

“Do you want to feel them?”

“Sure.”

Luna walked toward Lila and arched her back and leaned forward. Lila thumb-tweaked both of Luna’s nipples at the same time, which made Luna shiver. “As hard as little erasers,” Lila said, “erasing all inhibitions.”

“Lila,” said Luna, “I want to be fucked so many ways right now I don’t know where to start. I’m beside myself. In the shower I thought, I want to be fucked by a tree!”

“Well, now,” Lila mused, “we do have Jason’s Woods. That’s where we get the hardwood for our salad bowls and our Dendro line of peckerwood dildos. Have you tried a Dendro dildo?”

“Can’t say I have.”

“Then you’re in for a treat. Anyway, what I’ve been told is that some of the older pearwood trees have had their branches cut so often that they’ve developed semihuman traits, and now they are known to exhibit sexual desires of their own. There’s a man in there, Jason, who makes the bowls. He’ll know the grove of pearwoods I mean. Daggett can buzz you over there in a cart.” She pressed a button. “Daggett, we need you, hon.”

“Thank you, Lila,” said Luna.

“Your pleasure is my pleasure. Where is Daggett? He’s a little slower because he misses his cods. Oh, I should say: You’re going to have to let Jason hold your breasts, I think. He can’t make bowls without inspiration.”

“I can live with that.”

Daggett drove Luna in silence down a long curving path, past the lake. The wildflowers gave way to lilac and forsythia, and then there was a salt marsh, and then suddenly they were winding through deep silent woods, with mica chips of sunlight sparkling through the leaves. Finally they came to a clearing and a small well-kept shingled house, painted green. “I’ll leave you to it,” said Daggett with a wink. “Just give Lila a call when you want me to pick you up.”

Luna knocked. A tall scruffy man in a leather apron came to the door. His hands were black with stain. His eyes had a crinkly honest look. “I heard you were on your way out here,” he said. “Did Lila tell you I make bowls?”

“Yes, and she said I’d probably have to let you fondle my breasts, and I just want you to know I’m okay with that.”

“Good. Well then, let’s do that first, shall we? You’ll have to help me clamp my hands. Can I get you some green tea before we get down to it? Or some home brew?”

“Home brew would be good, thanks.”

“Okay, well, why don’t you scoot your pants a little ways down for me.”

“My pants?”

“I think, yes. I need to experience curving shapes to make my bowls. What lovely hips.” He cupped her cameltoe for a moment. “Do you like to eat salad? I do.”

Luna nodded, stepping out of her pants.

“Turn around, please, so I can have a look at your—”

“Panties, or no?” She turned.

“Panties are fine. Oh, my. Don’t move. Bend forward just a little.” Jason walked across his studio and unhooked a very large salad bowl from the wall. He stood behind her and pressed the bowl around her ass. Then he leaned against the bowl, humping at it with his hips. Luna felt well and truly cupped. “Now that’s what I call a Cobb salad,” he said.

Luna touched the smooth, perfect grain of the bowl. “This is lovely. Who inspired this?”

“Oh, a woman Lila sent me a few months ago. Her name was Jackie. She tried out some of my dildos, and I made three huge bowls in her honor, and then of course she went on her way. Those were the last dildos I made. I make friends with women, and it’s nice, but they just don’t want to live out here in the woods with me. They want be in town.”

Luna looked around the studio. “Well, you are quite isolated,” she said.

“Yes, it helps me concentrate. When I come I can shout as loud as I want. Will you dance for me? Let your breasts roam for a moment — I need to see how they dance.”

“Okay.” She danced, and as she danced she tried to think of the most delicious salads she could imagine — with artichokes and sundried tomato and blue cheese dressing, and beets, lots of beets.

Jason nodded. “Good, good. I’m beginning to get the gist of them. Now I’ll need you to help me clamp both my hands in these vises.” He placed his hands, palms up, between two battered, smooth wooden vises. “Just turn the cranks.”

“How tight?”

“Uh, not so tight that my hands are crushed, but tight enough so that they are immobilized. I must be immobilized in order to feel your breasts completely. Sorry my fingers are such a mess. I’ve been staining today.” Luna tightened the screws till she reached a point that seemed right. “Good,” said Jason. “Will you give me another sip of that brew? And help yourself. And if you could stroke my palms with your fingertips for a moment to sensitize them, that would be very kind of you.”

She brushed lightly over his palms with her fingertips. His eyes fluttered, and he began breathing through his mouth as if in a trance.

“Mmm. And now the big event.”

“My breasts?”

“Yes. Take them out for me, please. Unfetter them. I want your bosoms naked as jaybirds. Big honking jaybirds.” Jason began to sway from side to side, and he looked at her with a look of heavy, slow-blinking lust. “Are you ready?”

“I think so.” Luna took off her sweater and her tank top and then, without breaking her gaze, reached back and flicked open her bra and shrugged it off, holding it momentarily like a baby when it landed loose in her hands.

“Let me see. Oh, my, oh, my. Now please lower them, almost to my hands.” She reached forward and held his shoulders and leaned, looking down at the hanging outline of her breasts as they came closer to his immobilized hands. She stopped when she was almost there.

“Ah, I can almost feel their warmth. Now very slowly lower. Lower. I want to almost hold them. Just graze the nippletips, graze the nipples, oh, that’s it, that’s good. I feel the aureole energy. Now give them all to me. Give me those glories!”

“Nope, wait,” Luna said, and she lifted her chest and shook her breasts for him.

“Oh, you freaky teaser!” said Jason. “I can’t wait any longer for it, right now, please.” Strange things were happening under his leather apron.

Luna again descended, as gradually as she could, on the verge of filling his hands with her boobflesh. At first it was just her nipples, then a little bit of the tips of the cones, and then her boobosity began settling in, and they reformed themselves, fattening on the side fill as they gave their titfat to his upturned palms.

“Ohhhhhh, I can feel you forming the bowls for me, Luna, the fullness, the brimmingness of your breasts, there’s more of you and more of you, you’re so good with your hot boobfat, I can feel the salad bowls in your beautiful knocker-jug-bosom-boobs, that’s what I need. Mmmmmm. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

She could feel his hands trying to clench and grasp and pull from her all the knowledge of her palm-smothering abundance. Then he sighed and nodded, indicating that he was done.

“How will you remember them?” she asked.

“I have ‘absolute shape’—I never forget any shapes I really care about. Come, unvise me. I’ll walk you out to the peckerwood tree.”

“Should I put my pants back on?”

“Absolutely not. Never put that bottom away!”

The light snuck in sideways through the trees as they walked, and Luna felt that it was a sexual sneaking in, as if the trees were long legs that could be seen beneath the skirt of the leafy canopy. Then she saw a different angle of trees, and they seemed strong and male. Her underpants, she discovered, were wet.

They stopped. “This is the pearwood penis tree,” said Jason. He took off his leather apron. They listened. “Hear the fluids in it, the sap?” he said. “Hear the mushrooms growing at the base?”

She listened. “Yes.”

“Good, cause you’re going to hug it while I fuck you.”

“I thought I was going to fuck the tree.”

“After me. That’s how we wake the sleeping giant.”

He grabbed her ass and pulled her panties down, turning her so that she held the tree. He shoved himself deep into her. It felt sudden and tremendous, and she made a surprised sigh: “Ooof!” Then she began to hear different sounds — a cracking and a ticking as several small buds of bark appeared on the tree trunk about three feet off the ground. The bark split open, showing a pale, smooth, fleshy branch, and then the branch, thus exposed, began to straighen, while the nodular wooden balls remained covered with a finely wrinkled bark.

Jason was slamming his hips into her. He thumped into her hard, so that she almost lost her grip on the trunk. “Oh, oh, oh, god, Oh, shit! Oh, fuck! Here it comes, baby, ooooooooohhhhhhhhhh! Aaaaaaaaah!” Jerk after jerk of Jason’s artisanal come filled her rejoicing twathole. “Now quick, hop on this new cockbranch.” She grabbed it and held it — it was still warm from its accelerated growing. And then she heard the summer wind begin — a warm wind that made a different kind of rustling in the leaves because the leaves were drier now — and the light that snuck in between the boughs and boles was splaying and scattering, half of it reflected off the water, half direct from the setting sun. “Fuck me deep, tall, strong penis tree,” she said.

The cock shape grew longer and pushed into her, and then the whole tree seemed to branch into her core and out her arms and legs and lift her far above the earth. “Hold on!” called Jason, as she was swept up on a high bough impaled on old boreal growth. She looked out from her high-splayed vantage, and she said, “I’m a treefucking woman!” Dappled sunlight shone and emptied itself onto her. She squeezed her Kegeling love muscle around the smooth, thickened branch within, and when the wind came up again all the leaves twittered and shook. The tree itself shuddered: It was having some kind of orgasm. The new growth of penisbranches fell off. Panting and quivering, Luna climbed down. Jason hugged her, then gathered the fallen branches. “I’ll polish and stain these tomorrow,” he said.

“Dendro dildos?”

“Yes, inspired by you.”

“Can I come back and get one?”

“Please do,” said Jason. “I’ll make a salad for you.”