It was early morning at the height of spring, the forest was glimmering emerald with new growth and the heady scent of blooming flowers perfumed the air. The wind blew through the trees making the branches sway and the leaves rustle with a noise akin to the crashing tide upon the distant seashore. It was a beautiful day for wandering the winding paths that meandered through the old forest, to smell the jewel-like flowers and listen to the trilling song of the birds as they flitted from proud oak to slender birch to stately rowan.
He walked slowly down the faint trail, drinking in the vibrant, riotous explosion of life that always accompanied spring as the world awoke from winter's slumber. The Old Forest really was the best place to take his morning walks, far away from any other living soul. It was often the only place he could find peace and quiet or privacy. It was a shame that so few people entered these woods, they had always held a special quality for him, always making him feel welcome. It was silly perhaps, but coming here often felt like coming home. Then again, the fewer people that came here the more he could enjoy the forest's unsullied beauty and virgin paths, wandered only by the occasional deer.
The people who lived near the forest were a superstitious lot, it was why very few of the locals walked in the woods. They believed in a lot of nonsense about ghosts and spirits and nymphs in the old forest, lying in wait for the unwary traveller, waiting to steal their souls or trick them to their deaths.
Tales of goblins and ghouls were far from his mind today as he wandered without any real purpose in mind. He would return to the village later, for now he was simply soaking in the serenity of nature. Unfortunately his solitude would not last much longer.
At first he paid no heed to the noise, thinking it to be little more than the sighing of the wind through the trees, but as he walked on the noise grew louder and more distinct. A gentle song on the breeze, a faint voice drifting on the ether. He couldn't make out the words, but the song seemed to call to him. It was the voice of a young woman and the song seemed to hold promise, a deep longing that set an ache in his heart.
He turned off the path, his pace quickened as he followed the faint singing of that pure, musical voice. The song was beautiful but alien, it seemed to contain the sighing of the wind and the rustle of the leaves, deep aching longing merged with the joy of the sun shining bright and hot on emerald leaves, the slow contentment of roots burrowing deep into the rich earth, the patient slumber of winter and the frantic ecstasy of spring's awakening.
He pushed by leaves and skirted brambles and thorny bushes, the song getting louder and clearer the closer he got. All thought was gone, only the desire to see who could sing a song such as that! He didn't know how long or how far he had walked, dream-like, in search of that perfect voice but he snapped awake in an ancient part of the wood, deep in its heart and far away from any recognisable landmark.
Emptiness filled him, tears stung his eyes. The wood was silent. The song was gone. Without that heavenly voice the woods seemed dark and dull, the birdsong raucous and uncouth instead of pleasant and uplifting.
He stood, trembling, wiping the tears of despair from his eyes, utterly lost within the deep wood. He was about to turn around and try to find his way back when another noise caught his ear. A soft sigh, gentle as the breeze, coming from just up ahead. A feminine sound that held a faint echo of the voice's ethereal beauty. Curiosity compelled him forwards, if he could no longer listen to the song perhaps he could yet find the singer. He crept forward slowly, silently, pushing aside the branches of the bushes in front of him. He gasped softly at the unexpected sight before him.
It was a wide clearing, the grass was verdant and lush and the area was carpeted by small jewel-like flowers in a thousand colours, their sweet, heady scent perfuming the air. Some of the bushes around the edge of the clearing were laden with fruit. Blueberries hung fat and juicy, glimmering a dark blue reminiscent of lapis lazuli. Strawberries hung like small rubies, so succulent-looking that he could almost taste them on his tongue. There were other berries as well - blackcurrants, raspberries and plums.
How they were ripe now in spring when they should not have been until the height of summer was a mystery to him but all other thoughts vanished when he saw the singer, for he was certain it was she.
She was laying besides a perfectly circular pool of crystal-clear water, so deep that it faded from blue to purple to an all-consuming black the deeper it went. The pool was shaded by the boughs of an immense cherry tree, obviously ancient, its branches spread out as if to shield the clearing and protect her privacy, its roots drinking deeply from the pool.
She was a girl seemingly to have only just come into her full womanhood and she was entirely naked. Her long red hair pooled around her head like a halo of living flame. Her breasts were round and full, easily large enough to fit into his hands, her nipples prominent against dusky areolae, dark and erect, jutting into the air. Her body was slender, her skin tanned to a light gold. Her hips flared wide in smooth soft curves. Her legs were long and smooth, her feet digging into the soft loam, she seemed to sigh again when she smelt the rich scent of the earth.
He could not see between her legs at this angle, she was laying on her back and he was facing her side-on. But he could see one of her hands had slid down her body, tracing her own curves, as if every inch of her body needed to be touched. A blush of arousal spread over her chest and she let out a longer sigh as her hand slipped between her legs, her back arching slightly.
He bit his lip as he watched, feeling himself stiffen at the erotic sight of this beautiful girl touching herself. One of her hands cupped her breast, kneading the soft flesh, finger tips stroking and teasing her nipples. They hardened visibly, darkening, jutting out proudly from her chest. A long, low moan of pleasure slipped from her lips, the hand buried between her thighs quickened, her hips undulating up towards the fingers that were no doubt teasing and stroking her dripping cleft.
The soft pants and moans were certainly getting to him, he could feel his thick member straining against the fabric of his trousers, throbbing with desire. He rubbed and squeezed the trapped erection with one hand, biting back a groan as he watched the writhing girl intently. He had to swallow a gasp at what she did next. Her hand slipped out from between her legs, wet with glistening juices. She brought the two dripping fingers up to her face and parted them, watching the strands of her arousal stretch between them. She smiled slowly and slid the fingers into her mouth, moaning at the taste as she sucked and licked at them tasting her own sweet honey.
It was too much for him. His hands fumbled and tore at his trousers, desperate to open them. Soon his trousers were pooled around his ankles, his stiff shaft jutting out into the open air. The flesh reddened, the darkening tip dripping with precum. He grabbed his shaft tightly and began stroking, his hand gliding up and down the hot, taunt flesh in a slow measured rhythm. Pleasure ignited in his groin but he swallowed any sounds he might have made, not wanting to give himself away.
The girl's hand slid down between her legs again, fingers thrusting deep into clenching heat. A long, low moan slipped from her lips and her hips twitched upwards. Her fingers were moving faster now, her back arching again. He could see her flushing with the pleasure of it, the tension building in her body. Her hips thrust up into her fingers, grinding into her hand at the apex of their ascent before sinking back down.
Her moans and sighs grew louder, her hand between her legs rubbing and thrusting faster, hips rocking into her hand. Her other hand left her breasts to join its twin between her legs. She cried out, her back arching and her toes curling. From her reaction alone he knew that she was rubbing her clit now, stroking that little nub in just the right way as her fingers delved into her wet heat.
She was nearing her climax already, the whole clearing seemed charged with energy, currents of pleasure and lust flowing out from the ecstatic girls and shivering through the hidden voyeur peering in on her pleasure. His hard cock throbbed, his pace quickening, hand stroking firmly. His hips thrust into his hand, he knew she would be hot and wet, tight around him. He imagined that it was his cock, not her hands, that was bringing her to the edge of ecstasy. He imagined burying himself in her heat, thrusting hard into her just like he was thrusting into his hand.
Tension built upon tension, pleasure cascaded through trembling bodies. Slender back arched into the air, a hot, long moan ripping from parted lips wet with desire. Her back was off the ground now, hips raised in the air, toes digging into the rich earth. Suddenly the tension snapped, she cried out wordlessly as her passion erupted, waves of ecstasy breaking over her.
The moment was too much for the watcher, his cock pulsed and he thrust hard into his hand one last time, unable to stifle a groan as his thick, hot seed leapt from his eager member to splash upon the bush in front of him, dripping to the emerald grass beneath.
The tree at the centre of the clearing burst into flower. Flowers of pure white and pale blink blossomed into being on every branch and bough of the great tree, filling the air with a sweet fragrance. The girl, trembling and panting after her powerful climax, relaxed into the earth with a bright smile at the sight of the blooming tree, "You liked that too, didn't you?" She asked the tree with a bright silver laugh, "Mhm... but there's one other who enjoyed that... come out Man," she called raising her voice, turning her head languidly to look directly at the bush where he had hidden, "It's been a long time since Man came here, I would look upon the one who gifted my home with his seed."
His mouth hung open wide in shock. How did she now he was here? Had he made too much noise? He hurried to put his limp semen-soaked cock back into his trousers as he pulled them up. Red tinged his cheeks and a wave of shame flowed where pleasure and lust had been moments before.
The girl slowly got to her feet, her smile warm, "Come out now Man, do not be afraid, and do not feel ashamed. I would look upon you."
He was caught, but despite his shameful voyeurism he at least had the decency to own up to it. He stepped out of the bush to face the woman, his cheeks still stained red. A part of his mind noted that she was still naked, with no clothing in sight. Another part wondered just what this girl was going to do to him in retaliation for his spying. Author's Note: My second erotic story, this will come in several parts like my first story 'The Great River'. I hope you guys enjoy and, as ever, constructive criticism is appreciated!
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<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/supernatural/wandering-the-old-wood.aspx">Wandering The Old Wood</a>