Janice emerged from the narrow crack in the hillside with all the grace of a breach-born calf, lubricated by the abundance of fungal fluids that coated her from her cute dimpled chin to her neat little navel. Billy was crouched close enough to see that her mouth was also full of the stuff, her cheeks bulging gerbil-like.
She made a grasping motion with an outstretched hand until the Mushroom King passed her his gourd, then she retched the mouthful of thick mushroom-drainings into the neck of the gourd and gasped for breath.
"Lord," she said, brushing away the stray hairs that clung to her cheek. "Them eager little fellers did half the work. I swear they were fightin' each other for room in my mouth."
She stretched and patted herself down, then found her cane and click-clacked in the direction of the stream. She knelt there and splashed herself with cupped handfuls of clear water until her face and chest were clean. The faery handed her a bundle of twenties which she took with a smile and folded into the rear pocket of her denim shorts.
"Where to next?" she asked.
"How did you find working with my more boisterous subjects?" asked the Mushroom King.
"I didn't mind none," said Janice. "They were different, is all."
"What if I said that the handful of passive varieties you have worked with thus far are, in fact, the minority?"
"Well now," said Janice, rocking on her heels. "That's interestin'."
The Mushroom King peered into his half-full gourd. "There are varieties of mushroom–the more active sort–that require a special kind of touch to bring out their juice. A softness, if you like, that only you can provide."
"Well I guess I am soft here and there," said Janice. She felt at her lips. "My mouth ain't soft enough for them?"
"You can still use your mouth to help them along," said the Mushroom King, "but they'll seek your softer places. You can guide them a little, but you'll find they'll prefer to do most of the work, just like our friends in the cave. The real skill is in knowing when to take control and when to submit to their whims."
"That sure sounds complicated," said Janice. "But it cain't hurt to try, can it?"
"Thattagirl," whispered Billy.
The faery took Janice by the arm. "There's a specimen not far from here," he said. "If you handle it right, it'll produce so much juice that we'll be all but done for the day, and you can take off early. How does that sound?"
"That sounds just fine."
Billy followed at a safe distance while the faery led Janice downhill to a place where the meandering stream slowed and widened into a shallow swamp. The canopy of river birch and swamp-chestnut was thickest at the water’s edge, casting a wide band of shadow, and from one nest of thick shadowy roots there grew a cream-colored puff-ball fungus about the size of a basketball.
The Mushroom King guided Janice's small hand to the bright waxy crown. Her fingers found a wrinkled, puckered pore and she began to make an exploration of it. "That's it," he said. "You stroke it and see what happens." He flew to a nearby bough to watch and wait.
"It’s so round," she said. "All apart from this ‘lil button."
She put a finger in her mouth to wet it, then ran it around the rim of the pore, which trembled in response. "Well now," she whispered, "I think I see what you like. I bet you’re real ticklish there."
She knelt by the puff-ball, blowing gently over its solitary pore. Her fine red hair tumbled and settled over the body of the fungus. She ran her fingertips lightly around its base and the entire mass shuddered in expectation. She put a smooth cheek against its roundness, then rolled her mouth over the pore, kissing it, testing it with her tongue. The pore unfurled a fraction, revealing its sticky, ribbed insides, all white as cotton.
"I’m gonna kiss you for real now," she said. "I hope you don’t mind." She pressed her lips over the widening hole and probed it with her small pink tongue, gripping the sides of the puff-ball with her hands. The fungus elongated towards her in response, becoming pear-shaped. She made a series of small muffled noises. Her ass bobbed in Billy’s direction and the smooth tanned hamstrings of her bare legs flexed and relaxed as the kiss took on a sinuous back-and-forth rhythm. After a while she pulled away for breath and Billy saw long cords of something sticky and elastic dangling between her lips and the thousand tiny gills of the now diamond-shaped opening.
"Tastes sweet as cotton candy," she said. "I wish I’d knew about this when I was younger."
She tucked her hair behind an ear and leaned in to continue the kiss. The puff-ball sprang open with a whoosh, exploding into four fat quivering petals. Janice squealed; she made to jump away but the open folds of the fungus shot ropes of the sticky substance in her direction, catching her face and neck, tangling in her hair. The strings curled and twisted, reeling her in. She just had time to say "Lord!" before a white tentacle the size and shape of a swan's neck unfurled from the base of the puff-ball and shot into her open mouth. She let out something like a squeal and a hum as it filled her throat.
Billy raised his rifle and looked to The Mushroom King. The faery waved in return, the look on his tiny face at once reassuring and dismissing.
Janice twisted in the reeds and arched her spine, the back of her head firmly stuck in the petals and wrapped all-around with the puff-ball's gummy strings. The tentacle pulsed and writhed in her mouth and she began to move with it, her breasts rising and falling under her top, her belly tensing, a sheen of fresh sweat glinting on her skin. In time she began to idly open and close her legs while she stroked the exposed length of the tentacle with her fingertips. She'd lost a sandal in the commotion and she curled her bare toes in the grass and mud.
The old trapper felt himself swell against the inside of his overalls.
The tentacle withdrew from Janice's mouth, apparently satisfied by her submission. It curled against her cheek and she smiled, turning to press her lips against it. "You're quite the kisser," she said, continuing to stroke its length. Billy saw now that its wide tip was a cluster of curving, pulsing gills.
In a single wet wave the tentacle rolled down her smooth neck towards her chest. It looped around a strap of her crop-top and began to tug it aside. Janice grinned behind the web of white cords that still glued her to the fungus. "Now then," she said, "what exactly are yer intentions?" It exposed one small shapely breast and pink hard nipple and she quickly covered herself with her hand.
"Your majesty," she said, "is this entirely proper? I won't shame myself for money, you understand."
"There's no shame in this," said the Mushroom King. "This is nature, and you're far from prying eyes. That's no man you're laying with. I don't see how anyone could object."
"What about you?" asked Janice. "Ain't your eyes pryin'?"
"I don't count, my dear. My kind don't have the same base urges as yours." The faery shot a look at Billy, who at that time was absent-mindedly rubbing himself through a pocket.
"So I can do anything, that's what you're sayin'?" The tentacle writhed against her fingers, trying to pry them from her soft breast-flesh. "Anything it takes to keep this little guy happy, and it ain't indecent?"
"That's the idea," said the Mushroom King.
"Well," said Janice. She relaxed her hand and let the tentacle win. It wrapped itself around her free breast, playfully squeezing her. It luxuriated a while in her softness, then nudged the fabric from her other breast until they were both exposed, pert and shining. "Oh lord," she said, her cheeks flushing red. The tentacle thrummed its gills over her nipples. Her breathing became quick. "I…that…oh," she whispered.
With her nipples at full attention the tentacle raised up like a viper and spread its gills to reveal a flat sucker of sorts, which it brought down on one breast with an audible smack. She gasped, digging her heels into the mud. The tentacle pulsed from tip to root and the petals of the once-puff-ball trembled. It rotated itself about one nipple, sucking and twisting, then moved to service the other, then back again. Janice put a finger to her mouth and bit down on it.
"I cain't take it," she said. "I cain't. Nothin's ever made me feel like this. I'm burnin' up."
"Do you want it to stop?" asked the Mushroom King.
"No," she said. "No, god, never." She spread her legs again. A patch of wetness the size of a silver dollar had spread along the slight denim seam between her legs. Billy rubbed himself halfway to soiling his overalls, then eased off, thinking of the greater pleasure ahead.
The tentacle turned back towards Janice's face after insinuating itself around her breasts in a figure-eight. It pushed itself against her lips. She opened her mouth to let it in, then sucked hard on its tip while its long body teased and kneaded her. The leathery petals beneath her head fattened and released her bonds. "You know I ain't runnin' away," she said, running her tongue between its gills. "I'd lay with you all day if I could." The length fattened then too, its movements becoming labored.
"I bet you's about ready to give up your juice," said Janice. "Are you gonna impress me?"
The Mushroom King circled down with his gourd at the ready. Janice gave the pale phallus one last good suck and the whole thing erupted, draining over her face and chest as it deflated. The faery filled his gourd to overflowing as the fungus withered and shrank. Janice knelt by it and laughed, wiping the fluid from her face. She pulled her top over her blushed and swollen breasts in a single movement and stood awkwardly, knees together.
"How was that? That sure felt like a lot. Was that enough?"
"Wonderful, Janice, that was wonderful." The faery looked to Billy, who was pointing at his crotch and waving. "But, ah, I think just one more job is in order, then we'll call it a day."
Billy pointed across the swamp, indicating a hollow tree stump he'd occasionally made use of as a hide. The Mushroom King nodded, then set about giving Janice her money and helping her locate her missing sandal.
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