It was a beautiful morning in the Enchanted Wood, and all the pixies were busy at their tasks, helping the flowers to grow, helping the squirrels to bury their nuts, helping the fieldmice to dig their burrows, all the many, many things that pixies do to make their woodland the happiest place you would ever wish to be!
But Birchbark was not a happy pixie, as he took his basket out to the fields, and he grumbled and mumbled.
And Birchbark stopped at his first mushroom, a beautiful red-topped mushroom with white spots, and he looked up at the ripe spores gathered there, just waiting for him to pluck them out and spread them around to help them take root. And then Birchbark looked up higher at the white-clothed pixies who were so very, very lucky to have wings.
"Every day, it's the same thing, time and again!
`Birchbark, gather spores and spread them over the glen!
We must have colorful mushrooms, you see,
To make the woods pretty, and fill hearts with glee.'
Well, darn that mean old Grand Pixie, I say!
Can't he let me do something else, just for one day?"
He looked down at his simple green cloth tunic woven from a fresh maple leaf by his mother that very morning. It was green, and clean and fresh and smelled like the maple leaf, sewn with love, and yet, he wished it was the gossamer white gown, spun from dandelion fluff like Oakwood had. He and Oakwood had attended Pixie School together, sat near each other, but when they were done, it was Oakwood who had been given the wings to wear. They had just given him the basket for the mushroom spores! His life had been much the same ever since! And Birchbark grumped at seeing his old friend up so high while he was so low.
"I could do something else, indeed, yes I could.
Why can't I have wings like Elmleaf or Oakwood?"
And that sad little pixie gave a little leap that shot his little body up far higher than any human could have jumped if he'd been so small as this pixie, and Birchbark sat on the top of the mushroom and sighed.
"Those other pixies, they have all the luck!
But me, I just take my basket and pluck!
I pluck mushroom spores just as tiny as dust,
And I sneeze and I choke until I'm done as I must,
And never do I get a word of thanks, no, not one!
After all the miserable work I have done!"
So Birchbark sat on his mushroom and he watched the day go by. All the other pixies were working away, busy as they could be, but Birchbark found the day going on so much longer than it normally would. It was very dull, just sitting and watching everyone else work. But what else was there for him to do?
"It just is not fair, and so I will not work,
I shall sit here atop this mushroom and shirk!
I'll sit here and wait until the sun has gone down,
And do it each day till I get wings and a gown!
And then I will show them what beauty I bring,
When they let me at last jump up high and take wing!"
It was a friend of Birchbark, Roseleaf. He was a normal ground-working pixie like Birchbark, but instead of working with mushrooms like Birchbark, Roseleaf had the job of helping the grass seeds to sprout.
"Hello up there, Birchbark, I see you're sitting down!
Why are you unhappy and wearing a frown?"
Birchbark smiled down at his friend's kind, clean face. Like all pixies, like Birchbark himself, Roseleaf was slender-limbed, with a face that time would not and could not ever tarnish. Even the Grand Pixie, who was more than two thousand years old at least, looked as young as any pixie. Birchbark himself was nearly two hundred years old, slightly older than Roseleaf who was one hundred and seventy-eight. Really time for both of them to move out of their parents' home, find a wife and settle down to raising more pixies. Only, that wasn't what Birchbark wanted, either.
"Your basket is empty, it holds nothing I see.
Are you sick, are you tired, were you stung by a bee?"
Roseleaf reached out and patted the only part of Birchbark he could reach from down there, Birchbark's leg, left it there while he stared intensely up at his friend. Birchbark's unhappiness was his unhappiness, as it is with any friend.
"No, no, my friend Roseleaf, it's nothing like that.
I'm just tired of working all day like some rat.
I've picked spores every day, till my arms are quite sore,
Well, today this pixie's not plucking one spore!
I deserve something better, and I'll get it, I will!
`Cause with mushroom spore-picking, I've had quite my fill!"
Birchbark had to admit that Roseleaf had a point. Bad as gathering mushroom spores was, it was all he had to do for today. He couldn't go back home...someone would be sure to ask him why he wasn't busy. But sitting here all day on a mushroom wasn't turning out to be such fun, either. Really boring!
"Oh, come on, now, Birchbark, don't be so gloomy!
The woods need your help to make it mushroom-y!
We each have our task, and each what we do best.
So come on, now work, and do it with zest!
For helping the forest is what pixies do,
And if you don't help, then what will you do?"
Birchbark was looking at the sky and the bit of land beyond their little valley he could see, and when Roseleaf was silent, he looked down and saw his friend's usually bubbly personality was now all clouded over. And when he spoke, it was like the music had gone out of his voice. He had...he had hurt Roseleaf by saying he might move away from this pixie woodland!
"What shall I do? I really don't know!
I just know I'm tired of helping things grow!
I want something more, I want something new,
Something that's different, that's more fun to do.
And until I can get it, I guess here I sit,
Or maybe I'll travel about for a bit,
Maybe find a new forest with pixies elsewhere,
And never again wash the spores from my hair."
Anything that would make him willing to stay here, knowing the Grand Pixie would keep him picking and planting mushroom spores all day long, right from the first day of spring when they awoke until the last day of autumn, when they would sleep through the winter, along with the grasses, and the trees, to start everything over again the next year? What could Roseleaf, one little pixie, possibly do to make him willing to do that.
"I guess if you travel, that might make you glad,
But I know if you leave, then I'll be very sad.
I want you to stay here, always, with me.
Is there anything at all that would make you happy?
Anything I could do to make you stay here?
For I am your friend, tell me please, tell me clear."
Roseleaf's eagerness to get him to stay was manifesting itself by Roseleaf's hand running up and down his leg, just a sort of nervous rubbing movement. Was Roseleaf working his pixie magic on Birchbark? Even without meaning to? He knew that there was an electricity running up his leg from that hand. It was like it was slowly growing out from his leg area being touched into the rest of his body.
It reached the nexus of his legs and suddenly Birchbark moaned. What was this? Something was sprouting out of him! Right from between his legs, he had this pillar growing upwards. It was his little pixie-prick, it had always lain there so quiet and no-nonsense, like any sensible pixie-prick ought to do. Now it was bulging out like it intended to grow tall as any tree!
Roseleaf had seen it, too, as his next words made clear.
Birchbark groaned and lay back on the mushroom and gasped. Whatever was happening here was something new and something good, that was all that mattered to him!
"Oh, my, oh, golly, oh, mercy, oh, me!
What is happening to you, are you becoming a tree?
I never saw a pixie who could grow it like that!
Is it going to get bigger, or will it go flat?"
Roseleaf nodded in awe and he stroked Birchbark's leg some more. Birchbark was slowly sliding down off the mushroom, his leaf-tunic was slick on the mushroom's cap, and that let Roseleaf touch him higher and higher. Soon, Roseleaf could reach right for the new, amazingly big, wonderfully new, surprising big organ Birchbark now had between his legs.
"I don't know what is it, this is all new to me!
But I know that it's good and so we'll have to see.
I think it's your touch makes it grow, how it grows!
Can you touch me some more, just to see how it goes?"
Roseleaf's fingers wrapped around it and Birchbark moaned anew. Ah, this was it, this was it!
Roseleaf did this, and Birchbark was writhing under the intense, brand-new delight his body was experiencing. This was like the lessons in pixie-magic he'd had in school, when you did it right, your whole body kind of glowed with this energy. But this wasn't pixie-magic, it felt different, more personal, more energized and more basic, it was like the storm that lashed the forests sometimes, and the pixies would have to hide away from it as best they could inside bluebells and underneath leaves. He'd been caught out in one of those storms several decades ago and his body still quivered at the raw energy that had been flowing around him. That was the sort of quivering he had now, only this storm was boiling up from within!
"Your touching my penis is making it throb,
From the base at my balls to the tip of my knob!
Touch some more, my kind Roseleaf, my good and dear friend,
Rub from down at the bottom right up to the end!"
Roseleaf's hand was moving like mad, and he was watching Birchbark's cock in wide-eyed wonder. Then his eyes widened and he felt down at his own crotch and his next words cause Birchbark to moan, for Roseleaf had stopped pumping Birchbark's cock!
"Roseleaf, stroke it faster, and harder, and squeeze!
Pump up and down quicker, and quicker, oh, please!
I love what you're doing, so don't be afraid,
Just pump on my cock and we'll see what we've made!"
Birchbark groaned and considered. He had to have Roseleaf's working of his cock to make him feel this good, he doubted his own hand would feel half as good as Roseleaf's. Every pixie's touch was different, and did different things, after all, nobody else could gather spores as easily as he could, the fine powder obeyed him better than anyone else...mostly. That explained the Grand Pixie's insistence on keeping him at this job, but didn't help him with this throbbing dong he now strutted. A happy expedient came to him, however.
"Mine's doing it, too, my dick's standing up tall,
I see what you mean, with the groans that you call.
Mine wants me to work it and work it I must,
What can I do for you, I must pump mine or bust!"
Roseleaf did as he asked, his hand working his own cock and his lips came up and circled Birchbark's cock like a dew-dabbled tulip. So warm, so wet, so wonderful, so wild!
"You must use your hands to work your own dick,
But you have something else you can use on my prick.
Take it in your mouth and I think that will work,
Just wrap your lips `round it and give it a jerk."
And Birchbark's hand clenched the mushroom best as he could, fingers sinking into the spongy cap, and his cock was screaming ecstasy at him. He didn't know what was going to happen, but it would happen soon!
"Yes, yes, dear Roseleaf, you're doing it right!
This will work just as well as your hand jerking might.
Now move back and forth, and keep your lips firm,
Your mouth feels so good, it is making me squirm!"
It was Oakwood, from his flight overhead, he had noticed the two pixies below and, curious about what was going on, had flown down. He now fluttered overhead, dumbstruck, his rhyme unfinished, as he gazed down at the two pixies locked in sexual joy.
"I hear you two moaning, are you both in pain?
Or is this a contest which is making you strain?
I see Roseleaf moving his head up and down,
Why is he doing that? And what...."
Birchbark looked up, too lost in his pleasure to think of answering, even if he had foregone the pixie ritual of the rhyme. He could only groan, his mouth open, panting heavily as Roseleaf wrung his cock into greater upon greater passion.
Oakwood had seen for himself now exactly what they were doing, and his own prick slid out from under the thin, gossamer-like material of his white robe. Birchbark saw that dong poking out, and he moved without thinking, he caught hold of Oakwood's cock with one hand, and while Oakwood gasped in surprise, he sat upright and slurped Oakwood down! Oakwood hovered a little lower and that let Birchbark move even faster upon the fluttering pixie's prong.
Sex? Is that what this was? Birchbark would have asked him what that word meant, but he was too busy not only in sucking on Oakwood's dong, but also the extreme pleasure that was boiling up in his balls, he would soon feel whatever it was there was to feel here.
"So this is what you were doing, you two!
I bet that you think it is something quite new!
But it's just having sex, though in a new way,
And I'm very glad to join you in this play!"
And he did. His passion built up and he was wracked like he had never felt before, and then he was exploding! He didn't know if this was his very life spurting out of his cock into Roseleaf's sucking mouth, but he right then did not care! He was in the greatest, most extreme joy he had ever felt, ever.
Roseleaf was choking, but he was drinking down the juice that was flowing out of Birchbark, and that sound of Roseleaf gulping it down was just making it better!
And then Roseleaf came, and his jism squirting down at the bottom of the mushroom was a powerful series of shots that made the entire mushroom quiver, and as it shook, the mushroom spores, that black, thick cloud of spores, enveloped the orgasm-shattered pixies.
Birchbark knew the danger of the spore-cloud, it could choke them entirely...and then Oakwood's own climax came into play. Birchbark found his mouth filled with hot, salty, slimy spunk and it tasted heavenly, and he knew now why Roseleaf had swallowed his own jism, and as Oakwood ejaculated, his wings beat into overtime. Only the extra weight of Birchbark's body holding on by his suctioning mouth held Oakwood down, and that buffeted the spores about and they clustered into a compact form. And Oakwood's cock slipped away from Birchbark's mouth as he squirted, and the hot pixie jizz splattered down onto the mushroom and onto Birchbark, and Oakwood's wings carried with him the spore-cloud and it flowed up with him above the glen as he shot upwards, higher and higher.
And then with what was almost an explosion, the spore-cloud dispersed. All over the glen,the spores fell over the ground, spread out, a thin and now-harmless rain of spores all over, just as Birchbark would have done if he had been working that day. His duty was done, the mushroom's spores were all spread out, ready to take root where they would.
Roseleaf crawled up to join him on the top of the mushroom, looked in wonder as he saw the spores all floating down to earth.
Birchbark laughed and he said, with a smile in his heart:
"That felt very good, I am happy to say,
But it looks like your work is done for the day,
But for me, I still have so much to do.
Would you help me, just like I helped you?"
Roseleaf laughed and he said, with an impish sort of grin.
"You helped me a lot, now I'll help you,
If you'll show me how you do what you do,
And so I'll help get the grass seed all in,
Then back to my house, we'll have sex again!"
And Roseleaf began to lick at Birchbark's face, all the jizz that Oakwood had spurted over him as he rose up into the sky. Some of that had dribbled down onto Roseleaf's face, and Birchbark took a break in Roseleaf's licking to quickly kiss it off. Then he lay back and let his new lover continue working him over. Oakwood flew over, gave a friendly wave, and passed on over, as a flying pixie, he had so much more work to do than the earthbound pixies like Birchbark and Roseleaf. Maybe not having wings was better after all.
"I was counting on that, so don't you fret,
We'll have lots of time for more fun, you bet,
But before we get started, there's one thing to do,
Have to clean you up, you're covered in goo!"
He was still going to be gathering and dispersing spores for a long time to come. But with the help of Roseleaf and Oakwood, he knew that the work wouldn't be dull any longer. And one thing was clear.
Birchbark had found a way to be contented at last!
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