14 comments/ 18218 views/ 12 favorites Loving the Forest By: Highland Fox A jay flew squawking overhead, fluttering blue and grey. I like jays. They're attractive birds but, like most of the corvids, don't have the voice to go with the looks. It wasn't the first I'd seen of these today but, in this pinewood habitat, I expected to see more. I watched through binoculars as it flew off over the canopy. I was becoming aware of a need to find a bush. It was quiet up here, out of the way, even now it was early afternoon, but you never knew when someone was going to come round a corner with a dog and find you carrying out natural human functions. It was time to get off the beaten path. For lack of a better idea, I followed the jay. It was the wrong habitat for many bushes, at least anything larger than a patch of heather or blaeberry with as-yet under-ripe fruit, so my best bet was to head deeper into the woods, where only people like me were likely to venture. It was warm, only the design of my rucksack stopping me from heavy sweat. I wear a hat, full length trousers and an old shirt and cover every exposed centimetre with the kind of sunscreen they sell for children when doing long days outdoors. Otherwise, with my skin colour, I burn faster than heath in a drought. There is something about the smell of damp woods on a warm day. It does the same to me that miles of drying peat does to me in the hills. The smell itself is almost erotic, and does things to my hormones otherwise restricted to the natural scents of a small number of women. Maybe that's one reason why I love these places so much. I'm sure those chemicals are addictive. I could feel things changing in my lower abdomen and groin. This was not unusual. The strength of it certainly was. I crested a ridge, still hearing the jay in the distance and other common birds of the pinewoods, some closer. I'd had good views of crested and long-tailed tits, with their distinctive call, and a number of black and yellow siskins. Here, deeper in the woods, and in more of a dip leading down to a river, it was getting increasingly misty. By now I was climbing over the odd fallen tree. I paused behind the bole of one of the larger standing ones, a rare mature Scots pine, usually reddish bark partly covered in lichen and browning with age, unzipped, and flushed some excess fluids through a shaft close to being too tumescent for the job. I tucked myself back in with difficulty, keeping it upright so I could walk more comfortably and feeling more self-conscious than I usually do when peeing behind a tree. I spend a lot of time a long way from any sort of habitation and I've watered a lot of bushes and rocks over the years. For several weeks now, when out for walks, I'd had this odd sensation of being watched. It wasn't anything threatening. I wasn't paranoid, and it didn't happen in towns, so I wasn't any more worried about my mental health than usual for a naturalist geek like me. It felt more like friendly curiosity, maybe with a bit of uncertainty. Sometimes I'd catch sight of something out of the corner of one eye, only to find nothing there, even a shy wren in dead brush. Each time it happened, I wrote it off as my imagination. Maybe more solitary types like me have more active imaginations than most people. I don't know. I don't have a lot to compare it to. Now that feeling was back. This time it was accompanied by my own growing sexual desire. Maybe it had just been too long. I'm a naturalist, not a party animal. I ducked between two more pine trees growing close together, but angling away from each other, each trying to get as much sunlight as possible. I paused. Something was odd. The mist seemed to have lifted, but much more quickly than I'd expect. The feeling of being watched was stronger too. I heard a bird call I knew. A crossbill. I have a soft spot for crossbills. They're red, brightly coloured, in a tropical sort of way, with a bill adapted for prying seeds from pine cones. I raised my binoculars for a closer look. My camera was slung over one shoulder. The tripod, which I'd need at that range, up in a pine canopy, was in the rucksack. I was about to grab it when I froze. A cat. A cat about a metre from nose to tail, with tufts on the ears. Now I knew something was off. Those have been extinct in Scotland for over 400 years. Sure, someone with more money and connections than sense might have done a private reintroduction on the quiet, and escaped panthers have been strongly suspected for a while, but I've never heard so much as a rumour of one of those. "Hello." The voice was quiet, but close, and startled me. I turned. A young woman, in her late teens or early twenties, stood there. She was short, delicate with long dark hair loose to the middle of her back, setting off pale skin. She was wearing a draped woven wrap, covering her to below the knee, with no visible means of holding it on. It looked skilfully handmade, without bright modern dyes. The ground was covered in dead twigs and branches, and she must have been very quiet on sandaled feet. She was also utterly lovely. She had high cheekbones, green, almost a vivid-green, eyes, and full lips. There was no trace of makeup. I suppose the best word would be natural. My cock finished hardening, and I realised there was no way to hide it without her realising what it was I was hiding. My heart skipped again. I closed my mouth, firmly. I had it. Distract her! I pointed as discretely as possible at the cat, no more than 30 metres off into the forest. "Do you know what that is?" I whispered. "It's a lynx." I was about to tell her I knew it was a lynx, but something in her expression told me she was amused, so I kept my mouth shut. "She has mother-lynx things to do, so we should leave her be." She paused. "May we talk?" Girls this pretty rarely want to talk to me. I took another look at the lynx, decided that any photo I produced would be denounced as a forgery, or taken on the continent, and decided I'd live with the memories. "Um," I said brightly. "OK." She stepped forward. I caught a whiff of something, a smell of loam and pinewoods, but it seemed to be her, not our surroundings. She reached out one small, delicate, hand, and took mine. Now I knew what was meant when people say that energy flows between you. I'd thought I knew that before. Now I knew different. Something in my abdomen melted. Something in my groin solidified. I tried to blame the heat for feeling slightly dizzy, but the woods were slightly too cool for that idea to convince even myself. She smiled, dimples breaking out on her cheeks. My heart gave a warning thump. "This way." She led me off down the slope, at an acute angle to where the cat was foraging. She was, indeed, light on her feet. I pride myself on being quiet in the woods. To see the most interesting wildlife you have to be. We ended up down next to a stream, maybe four metres wide. The trees here were different in the damper ground. These were deciduous, providing dappled shade from the sun. There was a large, flat, moss-covered rock, above a pool at the bottom. She sat down on it. Sitting next to her seemed like the right thing to do. I dumped the rucksack to one side. She moved close, so our arms and legs touched. "You're wondering why I brought you here?" I sensed she didn't mean down by the burn. Certain things started to add up. The wildlife that shouldn't be there. A shiver ran down my spine as I remembered old stories about people walking into mists and winding up in places that weren't real as the rest of us understand them. Sometimes those people only came back long after those who knew them were dead. It's been a staple of fantasy, maybe for hundreds of years. I stuck my neck out. "We're not exactly in Scotland any more." "Sort of." She looked at me carefully, trying to ascertain my reaction. Those eyes were hypnotic. "OK. You're not used to this. Think of this as a Scotland that runs parallel to yours. It's different but, to a point, what happens in your Scotland affect things that happen here, and the other way around. I'm not sure how it all works. I'm a long way from being any kind of physicist!" I read a lot of science fiction. Good science fiction. The kind they base in something resembling a universe that corresponds to what we know, or think we know, of physics. This isn't conventional multiverse theory. One universe can't affect another. I said as much. She smiled, shrugging it off. "Your scientists know less of Nature than they think. They may well be right about that bit. I don't know. I do know they missed this place." "There's a whole world like this?" She cocked her head, smiling that impish smile. I was close. "A whole universe?" "The stars are the same, just more brilliant. There is less damage here, although that's changing. There are still more truly wild places, and more wildlife. There has been very little direct damage caused by us being here. Well, not compared to what humans have done where you come from." "There's more places like this?" "Like leaves piled upon leaves." This was a lot to think about. There was obviously more. "Things are not as they should be in your ... reality. You know about this." I know about this. Climate change, what some are calling a mass extinction, all these things caused by a species whose members don't know, don't care, or choose to delude themselves. I'm an amateur naturalist. To me, it's not some abstract problem. I'm watching it happen, I'm feeling it happen, and it feels like there is nothing, nothing, I can do to stop it. "So, we started looking for someone like you." "We?" I was way out of my depth. "Like me?" "We, I'll explain later. Yes, like you. Gentle, honest, not only doesn't want to hurt anyone but wants to stop others doing the hurting. Someone who's not just in it for the money or, what do you call it, the social kudos. Someone who understands, at an instinctive level, that humans are all part of Nature, and that what affects one part affects all of it. Someone who understands that all these things exist for their own good reasons. Someone like you." There was a flash of exasperation. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to find you?" I've met a lot of rotten humans. They can't all be that bad, surely? I decided to keep my mouth shut. "I screw things up often enough." "Screwing things up is understandable. Too much of your species do damage deliberately." "You've been watching me?" This made some sense, sort of. "Yes. Me and some of my ... sisters, I suppose, we wanted ... no, I wanted to get to know you better.. You almost spotted one or other of us once or twice. Even that was impressive. Most humans couldn't do that. Not any more. I'm sure there are others out there. We know of some. A lot are busy doing the kinds of things where we couldn't reach them, things in cities, or things in groups, or places where there are just too many other humans around. Some are in relationships, which wasn't fair. Others are, in many ways, too downright immature. Some are quite mad. Given what's going on I'm surprised more aren't like that. We picked you. As for the rest, I'm the right person for what needs doing. I'm keen to take part." "Take part in what, exactly?" She lay back on the moss-covered rock, the impish smile back. She bent her knees, showing a lot of thigh. I didn't know which way to look. "I took the hair off. We know men like it when a woman removes the hair. It's been like that for a long time, even when we had more contact with your reality." My heart was racing, and I was having trouble breathing, never mind thinking. I could go with the flow, or run screaming. I gave in. I decided to go with the flow. "You're right, but natural is nice too." I reached out a hand, then hesitated. She was moving very fast, and I might have misread the signals. "May I touch?" She looked up at me, inviting. "Please." I started at one knee, then curved round to stroke inner thigh. She was warm, smooth, and with hidden muscle. I felt her relax into it, and bent down to kiss, briefly, gently, on the lips. She savoured it, perhaps a little uncertain. "I'm sure you know my name." "Neil." "I don't know yours." "Melia." "You still know me a lot better than I know you." "True, but let's change that." She drew me down to her, firmly, almost insistently, then ran her hands through my hair, bringing me down for another kiss. I gave in to that woody, earthy, scent of her, caressing her through her wrap, half on top of her, my swelling shaft pressing against her hip. She responded, feeling like she was torn between uncertainty and encouragement. I wanted to take my time enjoying her, but her touch on my skin, when she pulled my shirt out of my trousers to get at bare skin, almost felt electric. I wanted more, pulled back onto one elbow, and found one end of her long, single cloth garment over her shoulder. I unwrapped her slowly, exposing a flat tummy, and full, firm breasts with the nipples swollen with excitement, each areole pink and puffy. I stopped to fondle and kiss each one. She moaned in pleasure, stroking my back under my shirt. I gave up, and stripped her to her footwear, exposing a pussy that was definitely natural and untrimmed, but certainly no thick bush. I stroked it, gently, enough to sensitise the skin beneath. I leaned back, removed simple sandals, and gazed almost awed at her naked body, now lying on one piece of fabric, her legs slightly parted, inviting me to bring our bodies together. She watched me, perhaps amused at the reverence I must have been showing. I reached for my top shirt button, but she sat up and took my hand away. There was almost no sway in her breasts, they were that firm . "I want to know what it feels like to undress you." She started at the top, concentrating, but not hesitating to touch, and not shy about her naked body. The fact that she simply didn't seem bothered about her nudity, not trying to hide it, not trying to get pornographic about it, simply made the whole thing more exciting. Her bare breasts were simply there, inviting contact. Her legs remained slightly parted, showing a hint of the lips at the cleft at the top of her thighs. I reached out to stroke her skin, sensing her relax to my touch, as she worked her way down to the last button, then reached for those holding my cuffs. Those undone, she pushed the shirt back and off my shoulders, then pressed herself to me, both of us facing each other on our knees. She took me in her arms, as much in a decisive way as a sexual one, ran her hands up my back, pressed her breasts to my chest, and put her lips to mine again. I stroked her gently, up and down her spine, one finger hinting at something a bit harder at the top of the cleavage in her buttocks. The kiss seemed almost hesitant, uncertain, at first, so I took the lead in running my tongue across her lips, then withdrawing to allow her to reciprocate. It was almost as if she wasn't quite sure what to do, which didn't square with her taking the lead in what was, in many ways, basically jumping my body. I had an odd sensation, too. The feeling of being observed had now changed to one of familiarity, like two people who have known each other for a long time, and know each others moods and habits. Somewhere, in a partially overridden forebrain, I knew we'd just met. Older parts were running the show. I allowed myself to be drawn into it and, when her tongue withdrew into her mouth, she allowed mine to follow it. Two tongues stroked each other for a long minute, until we broke for air. She eased herself back slightly, then moved her hands to stroke my chest. This seemed like the perfect excuse to reciprocate, so I fondled the firm weights with their now-hardened tips, one in each hand. She ran one hand down my lower abdomen to my belt line, then lower, gently fondling my erection through my trousers. Melia let out a low moan, perhaps considering what it would feel like within her. I growled in quiet appreciation. She whispered to me, "I know rationally that's going to fit, but I hope I'm right about you being gentle." She ran three fingers up the shaft, and I moaned again. "Sit back." I did as I was told, and this beautiful young woman started on my boots, followed by my socks. Then she looked me in the eye, pinched her lower lip gently with her teeth, and reached for my trouser button. I stroked whatever I could reach on her body while she did this. I just wanted to explore her for the moment. I moved my rear off the ground while she struggled with what seemed like unfamiliar clothing, the zip requiring two tries before she decided to lower it all the way. My erection was straining at my underwear, but she pulled the elastic forward, then down, and stripped me naked. All clothing was unceremoniously tossed to one side. She seemed fascinated by my cock. At one level she seemed sexually confident, as if she'd done this before. At another, she acted like she'd never seen a man naked before. Both tiny hands reached out to touch the shaft, first stroking, then gripping it gently along as much of its length as she could manage. "Would you like me to kiss it?" "I'd love you to kiss it." She bent, hesitated, put a peck about half way down the shaft, hesitated again, seemed to gain confidence and ran her tongue around the cut tip. I let out an appreciative moan as she tasted a drop of pre-come, and took the top of her head in both hands, running fingers through her hair. Melia took this as encouragement, and bobbed her head to take the top few inches into her mouth. She ran her tongue round and over it a few times, while I let out a few involuntary noises of support. I was feeling uncomfortably close to bursting, so it's probably just as well that she withdrew quickly. "Nice?" "Very." She could practice on me all she liked but, the way I was feeling, now was not a good time. In any case, I wanted to know what she tasted like. "Would you like me to do the same for you?" "You want to kiss me between my legs?" "Yes, please." Melia looked back at me lustfully, then lay back on the dry moss, inviting me to do what I wanted with her. I wanted several things. The first was to drink her juices. The second was to know what her body felt like when it was shuddering with orgasm. The rest would have to wait a while. There's a difference between a quick release and enjoying a woman properly. I covered her naked body with mine, one of my legs between hers, and kissed her deeply again, then worked to her chin, then her throat, then suckled gently on each breast, fondling as I did so. She moaned, accepting pleasure from the sensations. I wanted to give her more, so I shifted my weight, and gave her soft kisses as far as her navel, then back down to the triangle of fur where her legs joined. I teased gently with my fingers and blew on it lightly, sensitising the skin beneath. I rose to my knees, and parted her slender muscled thighs, then moved to lie between them. My head dipped again. There was a little hair covering the lips of her sex. I parted this with my fingers, then used lips and tongue to expose the soft entrance to her body. I resisted the desire to penetrate her immediately. I wanted to enjoy her fully, so I lapped at the growing wetness of her spring. It was thin, almost watery. Some women, at some points in their natural cycles, have a hint of bitterness. She tasted slightly sweet, reminding me of a watered version of the cane juice I'd often enjoyed out in India. Her natural scent was arousing. Something in her natural fluids was driving me crazy. It was like some sort of drug. This, combined with the scent of our woodland surroundings and her own, similar, natural perfume and the feel of this sensational naked body kept my erection a solid as the trunk of one of the local trees, and did things to my head that, if I'd been able to isolate it, would have been in high demand the world over. Loving the Forest I allowed my hands to explore, moving from the back of her thighs, along the sides of her buttocks, across her abdomen, and up to her breasts. She held them there, so I kneaded gently, squeezing the nipples lightly between the sides of my fingers. Melia's breathing, meanwhile, told me I was doing something she was enjoying. I decided to move a little higher and, with little flicking movements, found her swollen clitoris. She gasped, then started letting out little moans and cries of pleasure as I ran my tongue over and around it. I was getting a massive sexual high from her, and struggled for control. She moved her hands to hold my head where it was and positioned her feet on my lower back, so I kept going. I moved one hand back down her body, leaving the other to fondle one of those wonderful just-ripe breasts. Ever since I explored the wet cunny of my first lover I've liked to touch with my fingers, from the little rough patch just inside that can bring some women to a screaming, writhing climax and panting exhaustion, to the smoother skin of the main well, to the firm nodule of the cervix near the limit of a middle finger to penetrate. It was time to touch Melia the same way. I kept working her hardened node with my lips and tongue, and parted one leg further to allow my right hand access under my chin, which was soaked with her juice. I felt her tense briefly as my fingers began to stroke her soft, wet inner lips, but she relaxed in to me again after no more than a couple of seconds, raising her buttocks slightly to make it easier for me. With slow, rotating strokes around her entrance, I began to make my way in, and was brought to a stop. For some reason, a reason I had only the slightest inkling of, she had hunted down and selected me as her first sexual experience. I withdrew slightly, and my kissing slowed. Melia was having none of this. She was coming down a little. She whispered, just loudly enough to hear over the burn, but her voice was firm. "At some point in the next little while, I want you to tear that. You can use your finger, or you can use something harder. The choice is yours." This required no thought on my part. I went back to what I'd been doing, but with care with my finger. I explored the rim of her barrier, and resumed licking her pleasure centre. Melia was soon moaning again. Now I had an even greater reason to ensure she enjoyed what we were doing to the full. I moved away from her clit briefly, kissing and sucking her parted, swollen lips, lapping deeply from her juice, but soon moved back to the nub. Breathing only through my nose, I sucked it into my mouth, and licked with quick flicks over the surface. It began to feel more like a skin-covered pebble, surrounded by softness. Melia began to writhe, and I moved both hands to her flanks to make sure she didn't move so far that I'd lose contact. My flicking speeded up as my chin found itself nearly dripping and she tensed, her body arching as she let out a loud moan that turned to a scream of pleasure as she climaxed. Involuntary muscle ripples shook her entire body, and then it was suddenly too much to take and she pushed my head away, gasping. I love to bring a woman here. To bring a woman to the point where she's happy to lose that much control is a massive turn-on. To bring a woman there in her first experience is really something. I wanted her so much. Melia lay back, totally exposed, legs still parted, catching her breath. I moved to cover her again, this time with my erection between her thighs, rubbing her lips, poised at her entrance and instantly wet with one part pre-come to about fifty of woman juice. I moved to kiss her, slipping my tongue into her mouth. She wrapped her arms and thighs around me, gripping firmly, then kissed me briefly a few times on the chin, tasting herself. "I taste quite good, don't I?" "Oh, you taste delicious. I could have licked you out for a long while." I cocked my head a few degrees to one side, then looked her in her deep green eyes. "Are you ready?" She gave me a few happy jerks of the head, accompanied by a welcoming smile. "Be gentle, but I'm ready. I want you inside me." I moved my hips slightly to a better position, rose off her a short way, and put my hands under her firm tight buttocks. My tip entered part way until it encountered her hymen. I looked into her eyes and saw slight nerves and a lot of desire. I thrust firmly, and she gasped again, part pain, part pleasure. I found myself halfway inside. I paused, then slid my full length inside her, feeling the end just tap against her cervix. She was very wet, and incredibly snug, but we fit comfortably. I paused, simply enjoying feeling myself comfortably engulfed by soft wetness. I'd have to be controlled in myself: too rough and I'd bruise her cervix, but my instinct was to be gentle with this little woman. She wriggled slightly, as if trying to settle me in. It felt fantastic. I began a series of firm, slow, gentle thrusts, feeling the sensations of this previously unexplored well. I was having to keep careful control, as I was not that far from letting go the whole time. Melia began to move against me, her hands and thighs encircling my body, her breasts rocking in time to the motion of her body. I moved again to control my penetration, almost leaving her before plunging slowly back in again. Our lovemaking continued for some time, slow, almost languid in the warmth. I moved my hands further beneath her, finding damp skin where the cleft of her buttocks met her thighs, and stroked the wetness as I held her up so I could penetrate her deeply and carefully, filling her completely. As my own breathing quickened she moved against me more firmly, encouraging my own climax. Eventually, I gave in, and my shaft pulsed, emptying my own thick juices to mingle with hers. She let out a broad smile to match mine and I collapsed on top of her. "You can stay where you are," she told me. "It feels nice having you inside me, and you certainly fit me." "I thought we fit rather well, actually." I was slowly starting to soften, and my relaxing cock eventually slid out of her to rest against her still wet and swollen lips. I shifted my weight off and lay back. Melia responded by rolling over half on top of me, one leg cocked over the length of mine, her damp fur against my hip. I put my arms around her and stroked her spine. We basked together for a while, enjoying the company and the contact. I was wondering where things were supposed to be going. Melia obviously had a plan: a plan that others were at least aware of, if not part of helping her cook it up. The reasons behind that plan were not much clearer than a muddy bog. I've wound up in a few of those, but this was a long way from mucky boots and trousers destined for a good wash. I'd enjoyed what we'd done, but I was now, lust sated, wondering what was going on - and how and why I was being used. "I think you were going to explain the reasons for you deciding to do what we just did?" "Hmm." She moved to support herself on one elbow, those breasts hanging from her chest. "You sure you want to know?" This didn't sound too good. I hesitated. I had been thoroughly seduced. I was in, like it or not. "Yes." "You certainly have a right for me to try to explain. Where do you want me to start?" Too much was unclear. "The beginning?" "The beginning? I don't know the beginning, but I can start at the beginning I remember." Melia laid her head back on my chest. "Have you figured out what I am?" I was pretty sure she wasn't human, even if she looked and felt like one, even down to the details, and I was brought up with Robert Graves as part of my literary diet. Allowing for a couple of thousand years of garbling and likely misunderstanding to begin with, I had a fair idea, but I didn't want to make an arse of myself. I wasn't too sure Melia was a name, for a start. It sounded too much like something else. "Spell it out for me, please." "I'm one of a tribe of what you once called Dryads." Score one point for having bits of a Classical education. "You're a Meliad?" "Quite correct. What you used to think were spirits of ash trees." "So, from your name, do you have some sort of high status in the Meliad tribe?" "No. We just don't use names the way you do. Melia will do as a placemarker." "Okay. I'll accept that. I know some of what us modern humans think we know about Dryads. In the context of what's going on at the moment, what do I need to know?" "Uhm. Some of my sisters think you don't need to know anything. I disagree, or at least think you ought to know whatever you want to know, since you're part of what we're doing. Anyway, if that's what you think you know, most of it is wrong. The ancient Hellenes didn't really understand us, and were good at making up stories about fickle dodgy characters who had what they saw as magical powers, coupled with a lot of male wishful thinking, and a few grains of truth. That would be about one measure of truth to ten or twenty of fabrication for campfires." "That doesn't surprise me. People still make a lot of money out of telling stories." "Yes. A lot of them go into politics and business." No argument from me. "You remember those worlds like fallen leaves I told you about?" "Yes." "On most of those leaves, something like humans evolved. Some were as capricious as the weather in the mountains. Some were more rational. Others were more like you. Here, something different happened, and all, or at least most, of the plants and animals you know are also found here, along with some you don't, but there were no creatures resembling us." I could accept that. I dragged up some memories of stories I'd read. "Is this where Cronos comes in?" "No. Well, yes, but we weren't formed out of his blood. Someone did chop his balls off, and he did have it coming to him. Some of the people he knew were fickle. He was just nasty, but he wasn't the only one. It was a nasty time. Some of the better ones I told you about made us. They, how would you put it, used the energy of the universe to make us. I don't know what we were made out of, but it wasn't some arsehole's blood." The profanity sounded wrong on her lips, as if she was making a strong point about someone she personally despised. "We were made, I suppose, for several reasons. Part of it was to have a knock-on effect on other leaves, the way I mentioned earlier. Part of it was to protect what was necessary for the continuation of, um, ecosystems here and elsewhere. We're now a part of the natural processes of how all ecosystems function. A hidden part, at a level that's harmonises the natural energy and keeps all these things working. It's not about the physical processes. It's the energy that binds it all together." I knew there were Dryads and similar peoples linked to many types of what we now call ecosystems: wood, forests, mountains, even the oceans, but this was new. "It got all messed up. We were new, inexperienced, and scared. Others tried to fight back, and we got caught in the middle, and some of us were hurt. I suppose you'd call it a war, or an invasion. Hurting one of us makes more of a mess to everything else than simple injury. Without accident we live, even remain young, for a very long time." "I was taught you're tied to the life of your tree." "That's one of the nicer stories, but one made up to explain things humans where you come from couldn't understand. We are more tied to unspoiled land than you are, thankfully, but no, we just have a very extended youth. We mature to adulthood, then stop. We heal quickly. We have massive immunity to disease. When we reproduce, our genes are dominant over those we mate with. It's not parthenogenesis, but our heritage overrides yours." I shied away from the implications of part of that. "So how old are you?" Melia looked up, impishly. "Do you really want me to answer that?" "Maybe not." "I'm older than I look to you." She snuggled back down. "So what about these satyrs? I thought they were like you, only male." "Don't exist. Someone needed to find what they saw as a nice comfortable balance of male and female, so someone made up a story. Others copied it. I don't know if it was an oversight. Artemis and the others never explained." "You knew Artemis?" "Straight answer?" I was already out of my depth. I might as well swim for it. "Straight answer." "Yes, I did. Most of us are still of the first generation." "All that time...." She knew what I meant from that strange connection we seemed to have. "No men around and, I suppose, no real inclination until now. Worth the wait, though." She squeezed me closer. "Let me stay with my analogy. A lot of those leaves are sort of rotting. We were made to stop that, and this time that's what we're going to do. It stops, if not now, then as soon as we can. We're up to other things as well, but we need someone who can use that energy I spoke of in the right way. To make that someone we needed a male who could provide the right qualities. Those don't exist here, and are in downright short supply elsewhere. I got picked. You got picked. Here we are." I was working through implications. "You planned to get pregnant? From one session? It's possible, absolutely, but surely not certain?" "We don't have menstrual cycles like humans." She propped herself back on her elbow. "That orgasm you gave me. One reason we picked you is that we were pretty sure you'd be sensitive enough to my needs to do that. We were right. That orgasm triggered ovulation. I'll be having a baby. More my baby than your baby, it's true, but still our baby. I'll need to look after her, teach her certain things. Visiting might be complicated, but we'll work something out. As soon as she grows up we can accelerate the changes everyone here, where you are, places you won't get to alone and will probably never see, everyone, needs before a lot more things suffer and a lot more things die. She'll be a sort of hybrid: mostly Dryad, partly human, but able to act more strongly on your level of reality." This all came out in a rush. I squashed the thought of "sperm bandit". I could have said no, in theory anyway. "Could you have asked me? Explained beforehand?" "You'd have turned me down?" I might have run screaming. "Probably not," I admitted. Assuming she was telling the truth, and she was doing a good imitation if she wasn't, the stakes were too high. Something has to change back where I come from. "Resisting you would be hard." Melia smiled affectionately. I forgave any misjudgment. I'd been manipulated, assuming seduction is a form of manipulation, but the benefits were apparently just too important. "You seem to be talking about some sort of magic here." "That word is as good as any other, it's true. We were made by it, and we can use it, but it takes different individuals to use it in different ways." "Like you watching me without me knowing about it, that kind of thing?" "That's a simple one. You just don't notice us. So is the attraction you feel towards me, in spite of the fact that by all rights you should have freaked out and run. Well, I like to think that's only partially the case. Our baby might well be a good bit stronger. At least, I hope she will be." She paused, as if thinking. "I fancy a swim," she told me. "Actually, I fancy a bath. Would you like to help me get clean?" That sounded like a suggestion that was also hard to resist. "I'm up for that." Melia's head bobbed to kiss me once, quickly. "Come on then." She jumped up, breasts bobbing, turned, and took a few quick steps, allowing me a great view of her slender figure, before she jumped into the burn. I didn't hesitate. I followed. The pool was deeper and wider than I'd thought, and Melia was standing chest-deep in the middle, looking playful and inviting. I went straight for her, through sun-warmed water. The water was too deep to do a particularly good lunge, but I did my best, and she let out a squeal before we both went under water, arms and legs thrashing against each other. We came up, steadied ourselves, water dripping, and kissed gently, her firm breasts pressing against my chest. I liked the way her long hair cascaded over her shoulders when dry, but plastered to her face it made her look incredibly sexy. "Hey," she said, affectionately. "You do like my body, don't you?" "Any heterosexual male with a pulse would like your body." "But it's all yours! After what you did for me, I'll do whatever you like for you. Well, within reason." I considered, and decided being naughty was safe. Well, you mentioned sisters...." I gave her a wicked grin to show I was teasing. "Males! Never satisfied!" She grinned back. "I'll ask them!" Her tongue separated her lips suggestively. Then she jumped slightly, gripped my pelvis with her legs, her pussy pressed just above my own hair, and let her weight fall on me. I had time to take a breath before we both went over again. There was a brief mutual brushing of arms, legs and a lot of softness from her. When we surfaced we caught our breath again. She held out her arms. I could see her legs were parted below the water. Breasts were held high, inviting inspection and handling. "You were going to wash me." Only water was available, of course, so I started rubbing down her wet body, starting at her delicate face and down across her well-defined shoulders. Her shoulder blades, I noticed, were very small, matching her delicacy. There was a hint of perspiration under her arms, but most had been washed away by our first immersion. Her arms too, were delicately formed, but with underlying muscle, with hands that seemed made for fine work. I was looking forward to them exploring me in more detail. Washing her back was an excuse for close embrace, and that was an excuse to feel her bottom. She stood on tiptoe, trying not to overbalance, to allow me access to where it joined the tops of her thighs. I couldn't resist and, gripping one cheek in each hand, lifted and squeezed, feeling strong muscle tone. She held me tighter, then overbalanced, taking me with her again. We regained our footing on the bottom of the pool and I returned to my ministrations, lingering on her breasts, with nipples hardened either from arousal or the slight chill in the water. There was no evidence from her abdominal muscles that she'd been working out, but plenty that she got her fair share of general exercise. I looked her in the eyes greedily as I moved to rub her delta of Venus. She demandingly pressed herself into the palm of my hand and parted her legs slightly. I rubbed between them gently, moving fingers in gentle massage but careful not to flood the inside of her body with water and lose what she'd taken from me. Douching is an ineffective means of birth control, but there was no point taking chances when her objective was quite the opposite. She moaned appreciatively at the contact. I knelt slightly to work on her thighs, the perfect excuse to rub more toned muscle on a woman who evidently spent a lot of time walking or running. Her body really was exquisite. I took a deep breath and submerged, quickly moving from knees to firm calves, then surfaced, water streaming from my face and my own long hair. Putting my hands back on her body and sharing a warm, tonguing kiss just came naturally. She then reciprocated, pushing strands of my own ripe-straw coloured hair back from my face and then exploring the contours with her fingertips, as if trying to memorise my features. She seemed to like my own pecs and abdomen, kept out of a gym but kept in trim by long walks with heavy rucksacks and nature survey kit. She rubbed under my arms firmly: carrying a rucksack for any length of time in the heat makes you sweat. I was learning that little gesture she had when she was considering something of gently nibbling her lower lip with her upper incisors. She used it again when examining my hands to the smallest detail as she turned them over and over in her own, almost as if looking for something. Loving the Forest If she was, she found it, smiled to herself, and moved on, rubbing my back briskly, then switching again to fingertips. Soon, with more than a hint of desire in her eyes, she returned to my hardening shaft, then fondled my balls, knowing instinctively or otherwise to be gentle with them. This touch simply aroused me further, warmth flooding through my groin. She made sure the skin beneath was free of sweat, then used one hand to stroke my cock with her fingers, and the other to fondle the source of the seed she needed. I was properly hard again in seconds. I reciprocated by using one hand to palm her bush, the other to fondle a breast. I was simply finding these irresistible. As our excitement grew our breathing became heavier. She released me, took my hand from her groin and led me back to dry land and our mossy rock. She turned to face me, slightly uncertain again. "I want to try something again." "Whatever you like." " I think you'll like this." She dropped to her knees, and immediately took my hardened cock back in one hand and my scrotum in the other. We were both still wet from the burn, and initially she used this to her advantage. I appreciated the fact she was using her fingers to be gentle rather than treating it like a stick. I gently held her head in my hands, enough to show I wanted her there, but not enough that she couldn't easily move away if she wanted to. Soon she built enough confidence with it to use her lips and tongue first on the shaft, then on the sensitive tip. She was unskilled at this but, in many ways, this added to the appeal. She was trying. She wanted to arouse me, and it wasn't long before I was sighing in appreciation. She correctly took this to mean that I liked what she was doing and took the first few centimetres into her mouth, still with one set of little fingertips feeling the ovals in their little bag of skin. The other hand moved to hold the back of my leg. She didn't want me moving away, and I had no intention of doing this. Melia quickly worked out that my cock in her moth and her tongue exploring it was much nicer than just pretending her mouth was her cunny. My hands gripped her head increasingly firmly as I became more and more excited. This was not, however, where I wanted this to end. "Melia. I'd love it even more if you took that back between your legs." She disengaged. "I'll put it wherever you like." "Your cunny again, please." She gazed up, doe-eyed and lustful. "Okay. I'm wet again. Whenever you like, however you like." She eased herself back and lay down, inviting me to cover her. I doubt there's a man alive who could resist an offer like that, but I moved slowly, so as not to scare her. Soon, I was on top of her, my cock back immediately in front of where it wanted to be. I kissed her, my tongue penetrating her mouth as I reached down and parted her lower lips. I couldn't resist. I moved slightly, and penetrated her first with one finger, then with two. Melia eased herself up to encourage me. First, I found a slightly rough patch, a few centimetres inside, which I put light pressure on while I rubbed it. I was rewarded with moans of pleasure. I thought I should tease her a little, and moved further inside, where I found her wetter still, but smoother. I dabbled richly, my fingers covered in her fluids and, presumably, some of mine, then pushed as far as I could, finding her cervix and the entrance to her uterus. Melia moaned excitedly, breathing deeply as I explored inside her. She might have been Dryad, but she felt human where it mattered. I knelt between her thighs, and moved the fingers inside her back down so they were directly behind her mons at that rough spot I'd found a moment earlier. I moved my other hand to cover the mons, and began to rub her hard little clitoris, while stimulating her g-spot. The first time I'd brought her to orgasm, I'd felt her little body quivering. This time I wanted to watch the experience. Her breathing quickened further and her moans of pleasure intensified. With my fingers inside her I could feel her getting from wet to much wetter. This was going to feel so good when my cock entered her again. Her skin was damp still from our bath, but this was mixing with sweat. I breathed the scent of her, that hint of the woods from perspiration, and the sweet smell of her sex. Her face was becoming almost tormented as her body began to send overload signals to her brain. I kept at it until I felt a near flood from her cunny, her back arched, her face reddened and she screamed again in pleasure. She snatched the near hand away before it all grew so intense it was painful. Job done I let the fingers inside her play in that smooth wetness while I watched her recover. She opened her mouth and spoke, weakly. "Take the fingers out and put your cock in me. Now. Please." There was a slight emphasis on "cock". From coming to get something from me, she was now so hot she was actually begging for it. Freeing both hands, I raised her legs so her heels were on my shoulders and thrust gently but firmly inside in one easy motion. Easing forward I began long, slow deep strokes, again tapping her cervix with each thrust. My hands roamed her naked, sweating body, thighs, mound, abdomen, breasts, swollen hardened nipples. I was enjoying her. Melia looked like she might be nearly in an altered state of some kind. She was still snug, even this wet and after our earlier activity. The head of my shaft felt almost electrified each time I thrust into her; the rest of my cock was clasped tightly by the slippery walls of her well. I was enjoying every movement in her spring, wet, juicy, welcoming, but my own arousal took over. I paused for a few seconds to regain control, then began again, but before long I felt heat spread through me and I surrendered. I pushed as deep as I could go and my manhood kicked, pumping more of my semen inside her as I threw my head back in pleasure. I let Melia's legs down and almost fell on top of her, my slowly softening shaft still inside her. When it left of its own accord, I moved down slightly and rested my head on the pillows that were Melia's breasts. After a few minutes she complained I was a little too heavy to sleep there, so I moved off and allowed her to snuggle next to me, our bodies pressed against each other. We both dozed and I awoke later to find her asleep with her head on my chest, again half on top of me, with one of my legs between hers, one of those crossing mine. I breathed in the scent of her, and felt my groin begin to stir again. I stroked her slightly damp tousled hair with one hand and caressed her back with the other. She stirred and roused slowly. The leg that was over mine bent and stretched, encountering something that was not quite as soft as it had any right to be. "Hmm." That sounded like appreciation. I decided I might as well be honest. "I want you again." "Good." She stretched, and I enjoyed the press of her body comfortable against me before she moved to straddle my abdomen, arms akimbo, exposing herself completely, except her drying hair partially concealing one nipple. "What would you like me to do?" It's just not fair for a girl to get into that position and ask that question. Each hand reached for a breast, cupping their weight. I was finding it hard to breathe, although she wasn't pressing on my lungs. "That's a good place to start," I told her. "Would you like to ride it?" "Your cock?" She was a little uncertain. "Exactly." I smiled encouragingly. "I think I can give that a try. What do I do?" I shrugged. "Follow your instincts. Play with it. Take it from there." "Okay." She smiled that impish smile at me and rose up slightly. As she moved back I lost contact with her breasts, but simply moved to her inner thighs, which I began to stroke gently, stimulating the smooth skin. Melia's hands dropped to my cock, and began to stroke it to full hardness, feeling it from tip to scrotum, hinting at a scratch with her nails, but never quite placing enough pressure. The clean woodland scent of her filled my nostrils and I found this and all the rest of the day's hormones brought it to a pitch, making me almost painfully hard. At this, she lowered herself on to it, using her fingers and my shaft to part the lips to her damp entrance. She used the tip of my cock to rub the skin between her labia, but outside her cunny. She seemed to be avoiding her clit so, this now easier to reach, I moved to help her. One hand moved from my shaft to stop me. "That's not a good plan. Even with lots of aunts I'm not sure I can manage triplets." "Trip...?" Then I realised. She'd had two orgasms already. Two orgasms meant two ovulations. Two ovulations and a man's seed to go with them, in a Dryad, meant two babies. Another orgasm would not, under such circumstances, be a great idea, however much I wanted to see her take proper pleasure from me again. "Oops! I felt like cringing. "Sorry!" "You forgot. I understand why. I remembered. Two was my decision. If it helps, this simply means we can make a better plan. Here. I know you like these." She moved my hands to her chest, and I returned to the wonderful task of fondling and stroking. "That's nice," she told me. She settled herself. "This is nice too," she added, and sank my cock inside her in one smooth move. Her mouth opened as she felt it split her in two, then closed again as she began to enjoy the pleasure. She began a long rhythm, bobbing up and down on me, taking me deep with each downstroke. Since I'd come inside her twice today, I knew this could last for a while. I was stretched so tight with my own engorgement it was close to pain, which held off my climax still further. She bent forward for a while, allowing me to kiss her breasts and suckle on the nipples, stimulation she made it clear she appreciated. The constant exercising began to make Melia sweat, and her body, including the breasts I didn't want to let go of, began to glisten with it; her skin became increasingly slippery, and the stimulation inside her body made her increasingly wet. The fair hair at my groin and the darker fur at hers became damp, and her fluids coated my pelvis, and my scrotum and eventually I felt the area beneath my own backside become moist with mingled fluids. Our breathing synchronised in time with her exertions. Melia, however, was fit and healthy, and she kept at it. I wondered how the damage at her recently split hymen was faring, but she showed no sign of pain. I continued to gently squeeze her breasts with each of her downward thrusts. Some long time later, as the head of my shaft grew ever more sensitive and my breathing quickened, instead of speeding her thrusts, she slowed down, wanting to perpetuate our lovemaking, for that is what it now clearly was. This wasn't a woman jumping a man who barely knew her, or one trying to take, then leave. This was two lovers taking and giving equal pleasure. I quietened, and she returned to working my shaft, first squeezing it to stimulate with firm thrusts, then easing off. Again and again she did this, allowing my body to calm, then bringing it close to its peak, then down again. Finally, after many minutes, it all became too much; my breathing quickened and she, sensing she could not now stop my climax, thrust harder and harder to encourage it. I threw my head back and my eyes must have glazed as I pulsed once, twice, again, then again, the thick juices stimulating the tube in my shaft, then flowing into Melia's now soaking naked body. We lay together for some time afterwards. I listened to her breathing softly. I couldn't explain the connection I had to her. It was sexual, yes, but there seemed to be more to it than that. I've always had a soft spot for forests, old forests for preference, and she sort of felt like the forest. Maybe she was, in some way. That wasn't all of it either. Maybe that energy she'd talked about had something to do with it. I'd been feeling it almost since I left the path that morning, although it had become stronger as soon as I met her, then stronger still as we became lovers, although that was somehow deeper, more intense, than with any previous lover. That too was something I'd never experienced. I know some people will happily climb into bed with someone they've just met. I'm not one of them. Melia was hardly someone who'd been round the block, although she had waited the kind of length of time that was, well, inhuman. I like relationships, not flings. We must have dozed in the heat again because I found the sun westering. Melia also roused and looked at me with soft affection, even love, and an element of regret, and moved off me. "You should go," she told me. "It might not be good for you to stay overnight. Strange things have been known to happen to humans who stay here for the night." I was reluctant. "I might be able to live with strange things." "Or you might not." She made a decision. "No, you have to go, and I have to go." "I have a tent. There's room for two people who love each other." "That's tempting. You can't believe how tempting, but no. This was always going to be the hard part, but things are perhaps going slightly better than planned, and I have to make some preparations." "Will I see you again? What about meeting our daughters?" I've never really considered having children but, having been bounced into it, I now felt some sense of responsibility, not to mention interest in their welfare. "No promises. There would be a lot of people involved in that kind of decision. I can only promise to try to talk them into it. I want to see you again, but the decision isn't mine alone. I can also assure you they'll have a lot of doting aunts." She hesitated. "I'd like you to meet my sisters as well." A wicked smile. "I think you'd like them, and I'm not the jealous type!" "Sounds exciting!" "I'll see. They might tell me to forget it, but I can be very persuasive. How do you think I got you? For now, you should get back to your world." I succumbed to the inevitable. We rose. Melia slipped on her sandals. "You should dress properly. I'm only going part way, and I get the impression you like my body." She slung the wrap over one shoulder. "No question of that." I dressed reluctantly, and we headed back up the hill. Evening mist was rising. She found the trees growing in a fork and stepped between them. I followed. "I leave you here. I hope this isn't goodbye. If it is, have a good life. And remember, when things change, you were part of it." I was almost in tears. I'd met a woman I loved, and might be about to lose her for ever, after only a few hours. I sensed she felt the same way. She pressed herself close, trying to keep a memory of my touch. I did the same. We kissed, then she broke, tears flowing. She turned, stepped back through the trees, and was gone. I tried to follow, but she'd vanished. I tried to hold hope from what she'd told me, but knew I had to accept that Melia had probably gone.