Tree Hugger 1

Salix sepulcralis.

Her days were spent protecting much more exotic species. Ceylon satinwood. King William Pine. Red sandalwood. Spanish cedar.

But when she came home, often frustrated and dirty and exhausted from screaming and protesting and, on at least two occasions, actually chaining herself to the majestic wood to prevent the loggers from cutting it down, all she wanted was to lie underneath her tree, in her backyard, and listen to the sounds of nature that she worked so very hard to save from harm.

Salix sepulcralis. The branches hung pendulously, almost mournfully, brushing the ground with soft, tendriled leaves. When she sat near the base, she was nearly completely shrouded from the outside world, which was perfectly fine to her. The outside world seemed filled with violence and disrespect and utter dismissal of the very Earth that gave humanity life. It felt safer here. More pure.

Light filtered through the leaves of the weeping willow, proving to her the sunshine of the day while she lingered in the shade reading Confessions of an Eco-Warrior and rested against the mossy bark. Briefly, the breeze moved branches, almost making them appear to shimmer in the light while the light wind brought pleasant goosebumps to her flesh. A leaf floated free from somewhere high above her and landed in her auburn braid.

Smiling, she plucked out the tiny green leaf and looked affectionately up at its origin. "Who would want to hurt you?" she wondered out loud. She often spoke to her plants; she felt like on some otherworldly level that human beings couldn't possibly comprehend, they understand her better than anyone else. This is why she devoted her life to saving them. Even at the expense of human companionship.

She flipped another page of her book, feeling the words and the shade and the lovely warm air lull her into drowsiness. It was odd, the mix of feelings she experienced out here: the serenity and balance coupled with a tinge of loneliness that she could never quite escape.

She didn't resist the pull of slumber…she felt safe here, no need to be on alert. Easing lower, she rested her head against the fragrant grass, breathing deeply of the earthy scents surrounding her. Her eyes fell closed. Surely the universe wouldn't begrudge her a little rest, after such a trying day…

That breeze again, and a few of the willow's tendrils brushed her bare shoulder. She giggled as it tickled her and gently swatted it away, stretching and resting her hands behind her head, feeling indulgent.

Only a moment passed before she felt the tickle again, this time on her midriff which was exposed where her shirt rode up. She considered brushing it away again but found herself too deliciously lazy. And besides, the sensation wasn't unpleasant…in fact, it was decidedly pleasing, and she felt embarrassment for only a second before wriggling so that another inch of skin was available for the touch. Nobody was here, nobody could see her.

The breeze must have been picking up, because that touch was more insistent now, and more plentiful, stroking her arms and her legs and even her cheek at the same time.

Insistent, she laughed in her sleep-fogged mind. She was insistent, her fellow eco-warriors were insistent, the loggers were definitely insistent, but it was hardly a word to describe a tree. Yet…

One of the flexible branches insinuated itself up under the hem of her white blouse, and crazily it felt not just insistent, but persuasive…like a seductive lover, urging her to relax.

Crazy. But was it? Wasn't she the one who insisted these trees be treated like the living things that they were, that they had rights and should be respected for all that they gave to humanity? It shouldn't surprise her that they were volitional, sentient.

It shouldn't surprise her that they wanted to thank her for all she had done for their kind. What did surprise her was her easy acceptance of it.

As if agreeing with her line of thought, two tendrils wrapped gently around each of her wrists…not restraining, just encouraging her to spread out, relax…to let nature take its course. Although she should have been alarmed, disturbed, afraid, all she felt was breathless and…

And aroused.

Sensing (it was sensing) her surrender, the questing vine resumed its gentle exploration under her shirt, tracing her delicate pale skin, leaves seeming to vibrate with life. Her body shivered hard; it had been so long since she had been touched so sensuously, and everything inside her quivered in anticipation…of what?

A brush to the undersides of her breasts. She rarely wore a bra; her breasts were too small to require one for all but the heaviest of exercise. Sometimes she wished they were larger and more voluptuous, but her nipples stood out proudly and were exquisitely sensitive to stimulation. Right now, they were erect and straining, begging for attention.

Her new lover seemed to read her mind, somehow pushing up the shirt to expose the hard nubs to the air before stroking them almost tentatively. Her gasp and arch seemed to please it…It? Him? Her?...and it took the invitation, the thin and flexible tips of the branches wrapping around the tips of her breasts. Pleasure coursed through her as they squeezed, sending shimmers of sensation through her body.

It seemed every branch that could reach her was busy, some caressing her skin, some twining around her remaining clothes and pulling, not seeming to have quite enough strength to get them off but certainly sturdy enough to push them aside and out of their way.

"Please," she gasped. "Hurry." She wasn't sure what she wanted this to hurry towards, but she was building, building, wanting more, and she might not even care right now if she got completely tangled in these deliciously pleasuring branches and never came out again.

Empathizing, the tendrils slipped past her underwear, stroking and teasing, seemingly testing for the spots that would make her writhe the hardest, moan the loudest. They found that spot with her clit, at first just flickering. When she spread her legs wider, that one tiny vine circled the bundle of nerves, flexing a little and releasing before deciding upon a gentle throbbing rhythm. The tip of one leaf quivered over the tip.

She moaned, helplessly. No man…no human being…ever had or possible could pleasure her like this, nothing could make her feel this way. Her entire body was at the mercy of this tree, every inch of skin stimulated, from the soles of her feet to the ends of her hair, branches circling her waist and brushing the crack of her ass. She thrust, although there was nothing to really thrust against. She was going to come. This…plant was going to make her come, harder than she ever had in her life.

Willow-soft leaves stroked every erogenous zone at once, at the same time, and her body flexed. For a few seconds, she didn't even exist…she was part of nature, part of the Earth, and her orgasm was simply all the life vibrating through her and into the universe.

The spasms shook her for what seemed like forever, her lover seeming to know actually how to prolong the good feelings. Her breaths came in short "oh…oh…oh's" long after the first climax turned into the second, and after her body became limp with the effort of thrashing with and against her gentle captor.

She didn't know how long she lay there, panting, eyes closed, before she realized that her moist body was getting wetter, not drying. She forced her eyes open, for the first time since this strange encounter began.

Rain, dripping from the branches that now hung undisturbed in the darkening day. A drizzle that was gradually becoming a downpour that even the tree couldn't protect her from.

She sprung up, gasping, ready to pull her clothes into place before realizing that they already were. Did her tree/lover replace them or…

Had she been sleeping? Had the most amazing sexual experience of her life been a burst of fantasy from her exhausted mind?

Gathering her wits again, she grabbed her book and ran through the rain to her patio, turning incredulously in her open door for a lingering glance at the majestic form left behind in the yard. Salix sepulcralis. Such a beautiful name. Such a beautiful thing.

The damp tendrils shimmered falling light, moving although she didn't feel a breeze. Like they were waving goodbye.

And she found she didn't feel quite so alone anymore.

"Thank you." She murmured and smiled and turned back home, more convinced than ever that being an eco-warrior had more rewards than one could imagine, and more determined that her cause was worth everything she put into it.