Old Man Willow

"How long must we endure this damnable forest?"

The complaint came, not surprisingly, from Fenrohir. He had long grown weary of the dark, oppressive canopy which seemed to close more tightly about him with each step. Strange vines hung here and there over the path; the more bothersome of these he slashed at with his short knife. His eyes darted all about him, as if he expected an ambush to come from any direction at any moment, though he and his companion had thus far encountered no violence.

At his side, Meruwen plodded silently, her eyes focused on the path ahead. She looked hot and overweary, too exhausted even to wipe away the beads of sweat on her forehead. She still looked lovely to Fenrohir, particularly having shed her warmer outgarments to better contend with the heat. She now wore a thin, close-fitting white cotton blouse through which only the faintest hint of dark nipples could be seen. A thin white slip hung down to her knees. She had tied her long dark hair back, though a few loose strands had escaped and hung about her face, dampening in the muggy air.

"There must be water somewhere nearby," muttered Fenrohir, peering through the thick forest. "The air seems thick with it."

His companion seemed to brighten visibly at this prospect. "Oh, I hope so! I should love to bathe my hands and feet for a time, and take our afternoon meal beside a river or a lovely pool." Meruwen hitched her pack higher up onto her back and continued the march with renewed vigor.

Fenrohir fell into step behind her, not half in order to observe with quiet pleasure the firm globes of Meruwen's ass as they moved beneath the thin fabric of her slip. He had found the lovely young woman upon his latest return to Bree. She was selling ale at old Barliman's Inn while looking for a companion to leave Bree and travel out west. Being a man of the road and having seldom journeyed to the Shire, and never by way of the Old Forest, Fenrohir had found himself quickly accepting, particularly after taking several more pints of ale with the pretty lass than was good for him.

This would not be the last time that Fenrohir regretted that decision--a woman, even one so beautiful as Meruwen, was not sufficient reason to go plodding through this dark, dank land. After all, he had little to show for their travels together; this was the most he had ever seen of her, and it certainly wasn't enough to compensate for this latest adventure.

At length the ground began to fall steadily into what seemed like a valley, although it was difficult to tell through the thick trees. Abruptly these began to thin out, and Fenrohir actually heard the sound of flowing water. Sunlight trickled down through gaps in the canopy overhead.

The heat increased. Fenrohir paused for a moment to pull off his tunic, with which he wiped the sweat from his brow. He draped the damp garment carelessly over his shoulder and followed the lithe form of his companion.

He found her standing in a clearing alongside a wide, brown river that had appeared quite suddenly out of the thinning trees. Massive willow trees grew on the banks of the river, providing shade from the hot sun overhead.

Meruwen turned at his approach and smiled broadly. "At last, some cool water. Come and sit beside me, Fenrohir. We are much in need of rest."

She sat beside a particularly large willow tree, dipping her feet and calves into the sluggishly flowing water. Dirty though it was, the water felt cool and refreshing to her tired feet. She lay back on the bank and smiled up at him lazily.

Fenrohir dropped his pack and shirt and sat beside her, rolling up his trouser legs. He too dipped his aching feet into the cool water and sighed. Leaning back, he propped himself up comfortably with his muscular arms. Beside him he heard a giggle.

"Fenrohir," Meruwen crooned, "you have such lovely strong arms." To his surprise, she actually extended a hand and stroked one of them tentatively. "Oh, and look at that chest."

Fenrohir frowned. What had suddenly come over his companion? Even drunk on ale she was aloof and untouchable. "Meruwen..." The word came out slow and thick.

"What?" came the quick, plaintive response. "Do you not find me lovely?"

"It's not that, my dear, it's just...you remember the stories," he mumbled, trying to clear his clouded thoughts. "You remember...Old Man Willow..."

"Must you always concern yourself with forgotten tales?" Meruwen reproached him playfully. "I think perhaps we have better things to think about."

Fenrohir glanced down in confusion and, to his shock, found his lovely companion smiling coyly up at him as she undid the final button of her blouse. As he watched, it fell open, revealing two full rounded breasts and the sweet dark nipples he had seen only hints of before. One of these she grasped between two fingers and began to tug on and squeeze gently, then more quickly and with increased force. Her tit began to bounce and jiggle around on her chest. A sheen of sweat glistened on her chest.

Despite the oddness of the situation, Fenrohir felt his cock begin to stiffen. While Meruwen toyed roughly with her nipple, she reached up and pulled her hair free of its clasp, shaking out the long dark locks. Her free hand snaked down her flat stomach and slid underneath the waistband of the flimsy garment. Fenrohir could see her thighs spread wider as her fingers searched between them.

At that moment, Fenrohir's better judgement failed. "Let me help you with that," he growled softly and, using his knife, sliced the skirt open from waist to hem. If he was expecting something other than a giggle and a moan, he never got it. Meruwen drew her legs out of the water and bent them at the knee so she could spread her thighs even further apart. He stared in growing lust as she began to rub her pink slit, smearing juices over her pussy lips. There seemed no end to the clear liquid; even as she raised her fingers to her mouth to lick off the shining juice, Fenrohir could see it continue to trickle out of her, down into the tight crack of her ass.

"Mmm," she moaned softly, gazing down at his crotch. "Fenrohir, your cock is hard."

Fenrohir glanced down. "So it is." He struggled clumsily to undo his trousers and pull out his hard, eight-inch cock, its pulsing tip glistening with precum. As he began to stroke it, more leaked out, dripping down slowly into the dirt.

A number of things happened quite suddenly. A low-hanging willow branch wrapped itself around Meruwen's waist and forcibly rolled her over, then another encircled her pelvis and pulled her ass up into the air. Her large tits were mashed into the dirt beneath her. Although the girl screamed and struggled, the branches held her fast. Two more branches descended and began lashing the ample flesh of her sculpted ass, making her cry out.

Fenrohir reached for his discarded knife to defend the young woman, but a willow branch quickly encircled him too, pinning his arms to his sides. He struggled, watching the branches turn Meruwen's ass redder and redder.

And then suddenly he realized that she was no longer screaming, but moaning.

"What in the name of wonder..." he muttered. His companion was still writhing under the lashes of the branches, but it was clearly out of pleasure rather than pain. Cries of "yes, yes, oh yes!" issued from her full lips.

At last the lashes subsided. Meruwen was panting hard. Suddenly the tip of one of the soft branches flicked at her hardened clit. Fenrohir watched in amazement as Meruwen came hard, screaming, juices gushing out of her pussy.

When she came to her senses again, Meruwen looked up at Fenrohir. But instead of the embarrassment he expected to see, her eyes were full of lust. "More," she moaned, but Fenrohir was uncertain whether she was speaking to him or to the tree.

It was the tree that responded. Lifting her up with its strong branches, it carried her over to its trunk. There were many gnarled branches sticking out from its great bulk, but one was larger than the others. It stuck straight out, then suddenly rose up into two smooth, distinct knobs, both of equal width and each nearly a foot long, Fenrohir reckoned, if it was an inch. The vines lowered Meruwen, facing the trunk, onto the branch.

The knob nearest the tree found her sloppy cunt easily and slid between her swollen lips. The second wormed its way between her ass cheeks and found her anus. Bone dry, it began to forcibly invade that tight, virgin hole. Fenrohir watched in shock as Meruwen reached behind her and actually spread her ass cheeks wide to allow the fat appendage easier access to her anal opening.

The gnarled tree branch slid, inch by slow inch, into both Meruwen's holes, making her moan with pleasure. Soon she was resting comfortably on the branch with a foot of wood in her pussy and ass. Surely the thick member had penetrated her cervix, but Meruwen was blissfully ignorant of any pain or damage done to her. Cupping her own tits, she called out drunkenly, "All right, now fuck me!"

The tree obeyed. Instantly the vines began lifting Meruwen up almost twelve inches and setting her down over and over again. Her tight holes easily swallowed the entire length of the branches each time. But the speed was not fast enough for Meruwen. Releasing her tits, she grasped one of the gnarled knobs in front of her in each hand and, bracing her feet against the trunk, began lifting herself up and slamming back down onto the branch. Her tits jiggled wildly with the effort as she bounced harder and faster, crying out mindlessly. Juices flowed out continuously around the knob in her pussy, dripping down onto the roots below. Still she pumped harder.

Fenrohir was going mad. The action before him was wildly erotic, but he could not reach his pulsing cock to pleasure himself to the sight of it. The tree seemed to sense his frustration, for it lifted him bodily over to the trunk of the willow. A fissure in the bark gaped open directly before his cock, looking much like a human pussy. Fenrohir cringed, expecting a most painful sensation, but when the tree actually guided his cock into the hole, he found it warm and pleasantly spongy, like tightly-packed moss. It gripped around his shaft as it plunged in and out, though Fenrohir could not tell whether it was he or the branches that were forcing his body against the tree and his cock into the hole. His eyes never left Meruwen, now fucking the branches at eye level.

She did not even notice him. Her eyes were shut tight and her mouth wide open in a near-constant scream. Suddenly she lifted herself entirely off both branches; clear juices immediately began squirting and spraying out of her spasming pussy. Her asshole remained open, gaping, until she plunged once more down onto the branch. At the sight of this, Fenrohir could no longer hold back, and began to fill the spongy crevice with cum. Finally he was spent and, suddenly exhausted, collapsed against the bulk of the tree. The vines around his waist lifted him and lay him gently down on the bank.

Meruwen rode the branch to another screaming, gushing orgasm, then finally collapsed onto the branch, utterly weary. With both branches buried deep in her holes, the tree began to shoot its own cum into her womb and bowels, filling her with hot, bitter sap. When it had pumped the last of its cum into her slack body, the branches of the willow tree lifted her up off the knobs and set her down gently next to Fenrohir. Naked and satisfied, they both fell into an exhausted sleep.

Thus it was that they did not notice the approach of Tom Bombadil, on his usual rounds through the Old Forest. Looking down at the two naked travelers at his feet, he glared up at the hoary old willow above him. "Blasted Old Man Willow," he thundered. "I told you: Tom and his lady get them first, and you can have them after!" He kicked almost playfully at the trunk of the old tree, then, making sure the unsuspecting companions were still fast asleep, dashed off to find Goldberry.