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Art by Sabs | Check out more of their art here too 😊

It was a humid summer morning as the Naturalist trekked down towards the valley’s floor in search of a fae. It was perhaps late in the season for such an encounter, but it was to be his last day in the region, and he felt lucky – and the Naturalist had learned long ago not to ignore such premonitions. The air was heavy of the richness of gardenia, and birdsong echoed from one of the numerous trees.

Resting his travel pack against the trunk of the willow, the Naturalist settled himself between the roots and freed his swelling shaft from his trousers. His fist closed around his member, slowly stroking himself to hardness. The Naturalist was thick, with dark, curling hair nestled around two heavy balls. His eyes flickered shut, relaxing into the sensation of rising pleasure.

Read on…