by: Suzy J.
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She was lying nude, beneath a great oak, where she had gone after bathing in the sensual coolness of the brook. Her clothing hung about a bay bush, whispering in the breezes as she lay. The great oak grew wide and high, reaching forth his limbs covered in mistletoe. She saw it from the creek, great masculine thing that it was, rising skyward even as her nipples rose in the water. She had climbed from the water, skin prickling from excitement, her lower parts beginning to ache from the soft kisses of rippling waters. She had glided to the tree, and put her arms about it, rubbing her nakedness back and forth, back and forth, across the hard bark. The wood scratched her breasts like bites little nibbling bites that caused her to moan a bit and rub her hair a little closer, yearning to wrap her legs about the great trunk.
She lay down then, spreading her long blond hair about her head to dry. She lay upon the fallen leaves and mistletoe berries, and stretched her toes, relishing the warm air that caressed her entire body. She reached down to her mound, and felt the wetness there, warm within, like honey. She moved her middle finger back and forth atop her rigid clitoris - - it reached to meet her, and the sound she heard was like two tongues entwined, sucking. Slowly, she pushed her finger further inside. She was warm and wet, and she hurt in her desire. She played there, gently in and out, rubbing her fingers around her lips, and across the spot that felt like tiny orgasms at the slightest touch. She brought her other hand down, and rubbed her inner thighs in tiny, soft circles. She moved into her wetness and wrote love hearts on her skin in sticky woman honey, and imagined it glowed in the dark, a musk calling magickally a daemon lover.
She pulled one of her breasts to her mouth - - her natural size allowed her to suck on a nipple, to run her tongue quickly, desperately across her own womanhood, and she felt the wetness gather below in hot drops. She found herself opening her legs in anticipation.
And he stood above her. It seemed to her that the mighty oak was now a man, nay, a god, who stood a pillar: strong, muscled legs, a beautiful chiseled body, from which hung the phallus meant for her ecstasy. It rose above, hard, throbbing, red with the swelling of his manhood, which already dripped. He stood above her face, and his man-juice touched her lips. She licked them, leaving a glimmering sheen, and begged him with her eyes. He knelt before her, between her screaming legs, and grasped her breasts. His handsome godface went between them, his tongue lapping as if starved, and he took each nipple in his teeth, pulling gently as his hand joined hers at her crotch, probing. She grabbed him from below, but he moved down, bringing his mouth to her flower, sucking, lapping, drinking. He knew her, ate her, she became him as he ran his tongue over her body, without and within.
He was hard, and his length was two full hands as she pivoted to make a 69, and took his throbbing thing into her mouth. He moaned, and she moaned, and they lapped and sucked and writhed for hours, just reaching stars, yet not exploding. They stopped, and lay back, watching one another masturbate, eyes bright and bodies tight. He rubbed his hand up and down himself, faster, faster, as she reached three fingers within. Gently she took drops of her own juice to her lips and licked each finger
Slowly
...............................Slowly
................................................Slowly
Like a lollipop. Then she found again her clit and rubbed, watching as he pulled himself longer, harder.
They each brought themselves almost to climax. Just as she felt herself reach her buttocks high to meet her rubbing, rubbing hand, and pulled at her breasts, her legs fell further apart and he was there. He took her hands from herself, and looking deep into her eyes, he licked her wet fingers. He thrust his manhood into her deep, deep, and slowly they undulated; s l o w l y, rhythmically, and their tongues now wrapped about one another. She grasped his butt, his back, his arms. She felt him deep within her, and his fingers around her anus and entered. She was invaded, and she gave herself to it - - to him, and wrapped her legs about him, pulling him closer within.
Then faster, faster, faster, he thrust, and together, suddenly, they became one, their juices mingled. She screamed she would die of this pleasure, and his manhood filled her full and over, and they were each other.
She slept. She dreamed then that she was a princess of a netherworld, dancing in circles widdershins around fires bright burning at midsummer. When she awoke, he was gone, but the great oak stood, glistening, and its bark bore toothmarks and scratches. She rose and dressed. As she left the spot, the sun shone high. But for a moment she stopped, listening. For she had heard a whisper. "Thou art goddess," she thought she heard. She looked back - - all that was there was the tree, and she shook her head. She walked away, and sighed when she thought she heard, "Until another time, my love."
Behind her, as she left, the great tree heaved a sigh, his leaves rustling gently with the shudder. Or, it could have been simply the wind.
To contact me or to request topics to be covered, send to RikJohnson@juno.com
by: Rick Johnson 
PO Box 40451
Tucson, Az.
85717
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