A Man In The Tree
This story is based on a dream I had while having a stressful time at work. If you like this story there are more like it at Pink Pussycat’s Corner.
I had heard of the man who lived in the tree. It was huge, like a redwood, and when I went to his door he invited me in, not even asking who I was or what I wanted. He led me to his bedroom, where there were two twin beds and one small window where afternoon light shone in.
He went back to napping in his bed, and I settled down to sleep in the other one. There were some centipedes in the tree and on the bed, which bothered me at first, but then I understood: I’m here, completely cohabitating with Nature; and I proceeded to drift off in the most peaceful, dreamless sleep imaginable.
He was lying next to me when I awoke, gently stroking my cheek. The scent of sap and heavy stillness reminded me where I was though it must have been several hours later for it was dark.
“Woman,” he softly whispered into my ear, “it’s all behind you now.”
It is all so remote now, he’s right. This is what really matters, what happens in this space. His penis is stiff and urgent against my thigh, and my pussy is seeping honey, opening up to him like a flower. Slipping from deep sleep into this liquid love state he opens my thighs and lays on top of me, holding my head in his hands. Languor and love sweep over me in a heatwave of desire.
“It’s you…” is all I can venture to whisper, and with that he suddenly planks his sinewy body against mine, crushing my aching breasts and his mouth is on mine, drinking from me, and I allow him to take, for once just letting go and not fearing, giving control of a situation to someone else not worrying about the outcome. This is the eternal now, and I have finally tapped into it in this tree via its occupant.
His black curly hair is soft and his stubble scratches my cheek. I breathe into his ear, nibbling the lobe and wrapping my leg around his waist, wanting this human contact more than anything. He squeezes my breast,
lightly biting the nipple but sucking on it, hard.
He slips his strong cock between my slick labia and slides its full length up and down, down and up my passion-filled slit, nudging the underside of my clitoris with each movement. I wrap my arms around his muscular back and embrace him and all he has given me, grazing my nails down his shoulders.
“Oh God,” I plead, “please, take me now before I go crazy!”
He stares into my eyes just for a second, then positions the head of his cock between my gaping needy hole and in one long thrust buries himself in me to the hilt, then stops.
I can feel his throbbing manhood penetrating the core of my womb. For a long moment we lay like this, he embedded in me and I gathering him in. Our breathing is audible, and I am suspended somewhere between the Milky Way and in this tree and under this man, my savior from worries of my own making, pressures of the outside world, superficial relationships. With this union, I have rediscovered myself. Now I need the final release.
“Fuck me,” I huskily order, and he obeys.
Stars burst overhead, he comes shuddering deep in me as my body begins an involuntary jerking motion and I lose all control. Am I dying, is he? We come together like one, a moment like no other, then it’s over…
We collapse in a sheet of orgasmic sweat. We sleep this way, and in the early morning, he releases me to the forest, which leads back to the city where I live. I know I won’t see him again for a very long time and can’t help but cry a little. Still, I am thankful for the gift he gave me.
At last, I am free.
The Man In The Tree. An erotic story presented by eroticprose.com. The home of sexy stories and erotica