Lizzie and the Beconing Forest

Lizzie, a 25 year old career girl, wanted a bit of "me time." Work had been stressful of late and she needed to get away from her hectic city life. It was August and she was owed some holiday.

Lizzie therefore set off for a few days of solitary hiking and camping in a remote forested area some fifty miles from her home city.

By day three of the hike Lizzie was in a much more positive frame of mind. She had not met a soul since setting off, other than when she called into a farm shop to buy provisions. The solitude had allowed her to reflect on her life and get various ongoing issues in proportion.

As day three drew to a close, Lizzie was feeling tired, but not unpleasantly so. On the contrary, after a strenuous day's hiking, Lizzie's young, fit body was awash with endorphins. Her limbs felt warm, her muscles tingled and her mind was calm. It had been a lovely day.

Lizzie made her camp in a secluded opening in the woods. A stream close by provided a source of clean chilled drinking water and a means to bathe. Lizzie freshened up and then spent some time foraging for forest fruits. Finding a cluster of mushrooms, and being something of a mycophile, Lizzie collected a few fungi that she was knew to be edible.

After an evening meal using the last of her provisions, supplemented by her foraged mushrooms, Lizzie retired to her tent. It was by then 8 pm and the sun was setting. The evening air was warm and no sooner had her head reached her pillow, Lizzie fell soundly asleep.

Lizzie woke at midnight in a dreamlike state. As she gradually returned to consciousness, Lizzie became aware of the music of the forest. First, she recognised the playful sound of the stream as it rushed over the rocks and pebbles strewn in its path. Next, an owl hooted, setting off other distant bird call. These voices were broadcast against a background melody formed by a whispering breeze as it snaked between the trees. The rustle of leaves and the occasional creak of a flexing branch seemed to speak directly to Lizzie. It was as though the forest was beckoning her to come out and play!

Heeding the forest's call, Lizzie wriggled out of her sleeping bag, opened the zipped door to the tent and stepped outside. Barefooted, she was wearing only shorts and a tee-shirt.

Lizzie's heart leapt with joy at the wondrous sight that greeted her eyes. A glorious supermoon was filling the night sky and bathing the forest with brilliant rays of ethereal silver light. The air was pleasantly warm and the breeze gentle and soothing.

A small rodent, probably a mouse, scooted over Lizzie's foot, his tiny body painted silver by the lunar rays. "Take cover, little one", whispered Lizzie, "there's an owl about!"

Lizzie walked gingerly toward the stream. How different, thought Lizzie, was the sensual experience of walking barefoot in the cool grass, compared to the harsh pounding of city sidewalks in her "sensible" work shoes. Lizzie giggled as the grass tickled her feet.

Lizzie sat on the bank and dangled her feet in the running stream. The water was cool, but not cold. She paddled her feet to splish-splash the water and, childish though it was, being playful in this innocent way made Lizzie supremely happy.

Flying insects, not normally visible in the dark of night, were floodlit by the lunar rays. Lizzie watched their frenzied movements with fascination. A dragonfly came to inspect Lizzie, hovering inches from her face, before disappearing in a trice. A moth rested awhile on her knee.

Suddenly, and apparently out of nowhere, a flock of fifty or more pipistrelles came into view, their tiny bodies silhouetted against the moon. The bats settled in the branches of a tree on the other side of the stream, just a hair's breadth from where Lizzie was reposing. Their high-pitched chirrups seemed to be welcoming to Lizzie to their nocturnal world.

Lizzie felt that the ancient forest was beckoning her to commune with her and her inhabitants. The joy of being amongst nature and the feeling that she was a welcome guest filled Lizzie with a sense of wellbeing that she had not felt since childhood. An instinctive thought also gripped Lizzie. If she were to heed the beckoning call of the natural world, she must do so in her natural state. It would be disrespectful to the forest if she were to commune with it wearing clothes.

Lizzie stood up, removed her t-shirt and slipped off her shorts. Now naked, Lizzie stretched her arms upward to the moon, then lowering her arms to adopt a cruciform posture, she twirled around several times, her long blonde hair fanning out like a swinging carousel. The warm air caressed every inch of Lizzie's body, giving her goose bumps and causing her pink nipples to stand to attention.

Lizzie had been a plump teenager and was teased remorselessly by her elder, slender, sister. This had left Lizzie feeling very self-conscious about her body. Even though the puppy fat was long gone, she still found it difficult to be undressed in front of others, even lovers. If only she knew how many men, and girls come to that, admired her womanly shape. Her breasts were full and firm and her outline described a curvaceous hourglass. Her legs were in perfect proportion to her body and her feet were dainty and pretty. Her smooth skin was like porcelain and her fulsome lips a rosy red. Her cherubic face was framed by a shock of tousled blonde hair. Lizzie had nothing to be self-deprecating about, but the taunts from her childhood still haunted her.

Here in the forest, feeling that she was surrounded only by kindly spirits, Lizzie felt no self-consciousness. For once she was proud of her body. She stood for a while, head held back, hands on hips and legs apart, enjoying her nudity and feeling truly liberated by it.

Now Lizzie made her way across the stream. She was excited by the illicit nature of what she was doing. A naked midnight prowl in a forest! Her rational mind told her that the further she distanced herself from her clothes and the sanctuary of her tent, the more vulnerable she would become, but this did not deter her. She felt instinctively that the forest would keep her safe. The remote risk of being seen by a passer-by only intensified Lizzie's excitement.

On reaching the other side of the stream, Lizzie entered a densely wooded area. The sweet earthy scent of the forest was potent and mildly narcotic. The ground beneath her feet was covered with moss, grass and leaves; so soft it was like walking on a Kashmir rug. As she walked, Lizzie deliberately allowed branches and leaves to brush against her body. Occasionally, Lizzie would embrace a tree. She liked the feeling of the rough bark against her soft bare skin. She even kissed the trees as she would a lover. Lizzie allowed thinner branches to come between her thighs and explore her vulva, her perineum and the cleavage between her buttocks. Ferns abounded in this forest. Lizzie picked some fronds as large as ostrich features and used them to caress her face, her breasts, her buttocks and her crotch. The forest and she were making love to each other and it thrilled her.

Lizzie came across a silver birch leaning at 30 degrees against another tree. Spreading the fronds over the fallen tree, she lay back onto it, allowing her legs to part as her thighs gripped the shaft of the trunk. She fondled her breasts with one hand and used the fingers of the other to stroke her vagina. She liked the way the flesh of the ferns cushioned her back and probed her buttocks; she liked the way the breeze kissed her body and, above all, she liked the feeling that the forest was watching her with approval.

The stress of work had suppressed Lizzie's libido of late. She hadn't touched herself in weeks and she hadn't had sex with a partner for many months. Now, feeling calm and refreshed by her break, Lizzie masturbated eagerly. Her clitoris tingled at the lightest brush, sending pulses of ecstasy through her body. Lizzie looked intently at the brilliant moon as she pleasured herself. It was as though she were saying defiantly to the satellite, "here I am, Lizzie, a child of mother earth, look at me; look at me." Her orgasm came quickly and was overwhelming. It lasted a full minute.

Lying back contentedly, massaging her pussy, Lizzie tilted her head and became aware of a pair of eyes staring at her from a distance. She was not afraid, but she was intrigued. Could it be a wolf or a bear, perhaps? "Hello" called Lizzie, "come nearer and please don't be afraid, I won't harm you." As the owner of the eyes stepped from the shadows into the moonlight, it became apparent that they belonged to a man-like figure, but a very tall broad-shouldered one with the goat-like ears and small horns projecting from his forehead. His legs were covered in wool. Could that be a tail emanating from his behind thought Lizzie? But the most striking feature of this strange being was his penis. It was huge, standing proudly erect and reaching upward beyond his midriff.

"A horned man-like creature of the forest, with the ears, horns, legs and tail of a goat and a large permanently erect penis" thought Lizzie. Her mind turned back to the mythology lessons she had so enjoyed at school. "Of course" whispered Lizzie aloud, "you're a Satyr."

The Satyr approached Lizzie. His face was kindly and smiling. His human hands reached out and he draped a daisy chain necklace over Lizzie's head.

Lifting her up, the Satyr cradled Lizzie in his powerful arms in the way a groom carries his bride across the threshold. He then set off at great speed through the forest. Lizzie's mind reeled at the breath-taking pace of the Satyr. Trees would appear in front of her eyes and Lizzie was sure they would collide, but the Satyr deftly side-stepped all obstacles as he flew like a zephyr though the thicket. He evidently knew every inch of the forest and every tree in it and Lizzie felt safe in his arms. Lizzie found the Satyr's musky scent heady and alluring.

Eventually the Satyr stopped running and they entered a cave. The creature gently lowered Lizzie to the ground. Her feet met a soft carpet of straw and her eyes adjusted to an interior lit dimly by burning torches. This was clearly his lair, and a comfortable, well-furnished lair it was too.

Lizzie sat on a large cushioned couch while the Satyr poured wine for them both. It was a rich, full-bodied red wine and as it released its magic into her bloodstream, Lizzie felt warmed from her head to toe. Lizzie was now glowing inside, profoundly relaxed and very very aroused.

The huge penis of the Satyr brushed against her nakedness as he came close to her. Lizzie reached out and clasped it in her hands. She needed both her small hands fully to encircle the Satyr's girth. Kneeling before the beast, she took his rigid cock into her mouth and lapped the head with her tongue. Her hands stroked the length of the member and fondled his balls. The Satyr made soft growling noises as she worked his penis. Much to Lizzie's amusement, she noticed the Satyr's tail occasionally flick, signalling that her oral technique was pleasing the man-beast.

Lizzie then kneeled on all fours on the couch. She lowered her upper torso, parted her legs and offered her up vagina. Lizzie's display was primal and animalistic. She was soaking wet and aching to be fucked.

Lizzie felt the Satyr's powerful hands grip her hips and she knew that the moment of no-return had arrived; she was now completely and utterly at his mercy. Lizzie's labia were prised apart as the Satyr's glans probed her. He then penetrated Lizzie, slowly and carefully and, as he did so, her pussy stretched to accommodate him. The sensation as his huge penis entered her was at the margins of the pain-pleasure threshold, but the Satyr was careful and gentle. Lizzie felt nothing but delicious pleasure as the Satyr's shaft filled her vagina as it had never been filled before.

The Satyr then began sliding his phallus in and out of Lizzie's tight yielding pussy. His rhythmic piston-like thrusts brought Lizzie wave after wave of pleasure and she orgasmed time and time again. After what seemed an eternity, the Satyr's thrusts became more ardent. Withdrawing his penis, he clasped it between Lizzie's buttocks and continued to thrust two or three times, bringing himself to his climax. Jets of warm milky semen spurted into the air, splattering the walls of the cave and raining down over Lizzie's back and hair. When his ejaculation was over, the Satyr reinserted his still stiff penis into Lizzie's pussy and as he did so, she climaxed again, so intensely this time she passed out.

Lizzie woke as the dawn arrived. Looking about her, she realised that she was safely in her tent, tucked up in her sleeping bag. She was naked and her body felt the glow that follows deeply satisfying sex, but had it all been a dream? She smiled as she remembered how her mythology teacher told her that she had far too active an imagination! Or perhaps those foraged mushrooms were mildly hallucinogenic. Lizzie noticed a daisy chain necklace lying by her clothes and wondered where it had come from, but the thought soon evaporated as she slipped back into a contented blissful sleep.