Authors Note: A brief note about this story. A few paragraphs in, you're going to come across a few asterisks, like this: ****. At that point, the story splits into four different paths. You can either read them sequentially, or in whatever order you like. Each section is marked off by the **** mark, though. Enjoy!
****
I stood at the cliff's edge, surveying the majestic scene before me. The sun was just starting to rise over some snow-tipped mountains in the distance, sunlight scintillating off icicles in the pines' branches. In the gorge in front of me was a wild river, rushing down the mountain. In the middle were Arcadian hills, punctuated with wildflowers emerging from their hibernation. It was beautiful.
I sat down, took out my canvas and my paints, and began to capture the beauty of nature before me. I had come out for a weekend camping trip. I had planned to invite my girlfriend, but just before I was going to ask her, she had broken up with me, complaining that I focused too much on painting and nature and not enough on her. I was still devastated and was pouring myself into my work in an attempt to soothe my troubled soul.
Still, I thought, lightly dabbing a green-covered brush against the canvas, bringing trees into existence, she wasn't entirely wrong. Even from my childhood, I had always loved to capture the world. I had started with crayons and moved to pencils and photography before discovering that painting was my true passion. It let me capture so much more than just the physical beauty of what lay before me, but its inner beauty as well. The beauty of a contented landscape, a part of the Earth that was entirely perfect as it was. The world in its own beauty, free of mankind's designs upon it, free of the chains he laid down. What human woman could compare to the beauty of the mountains and springs, of the forests and fields, of the seasons?
A sudden breeze erupted behind me, blowing my canvas out of my hands and down into the gorge below. I peered over the edge, watching its flight until it splashed into the gray waters below.
"I got his attention for you, sister. Now what?" said a bored, monotone voice in the wind.
"My thanks to you," replied a voice full of sincere affection. "What is your name, young artist?"
"Me?" I looked around, trying to find the source of the voices, but I was only surrounded by trees and rocks. "My name is Matthew. Who are you?"
What
are you, I wondered to myself...
A deep, languid voice answered, "We'll get around to that, Matthew, but first my sisters and I have a question for you."
"Yes? What is it?" I asked cautiously. Whoever these women were, or at least, they sounded like women, I would only learn more by playing their games for now.
A girl giggled. "We all just adore your love of nature, and we can see how hurt your poor heart is, so we were thinking we should help you and we thought
you
should get to choose so we came to ask you, what's your favorite season, Matthew? Make sure you answer truthfully..."
"Well," I began, thinking hard. This question seemed to carry a bit more weight than when people usually asked me which season I preferred. It was hard to decide. I loved the purity and freshness of winter, I enjoyed the heat and freedom of summer, I admired the colors and the providence of autumn, and I adored the vitality and life of spring. But, I supposed, if I absolutely
had
to choose, "I think my favorite is...
****
...spring."
"
Everyone
picks spring," said that bored voice sardonically.
"Well that's because it's so welcoming and inviting and warm and fertile!" bubbled the talkative voice. "Can you really blame everyone?"
"Yes, I can," she replied with a hmph.
"Well, let's get started!" cheered the bubbly voice, her sentence punctuated by a sudden wind. Green leaves stirred up, flying through the air, whirling around me. I felt like I was at the center of a tornado. They blocked the sky and the sun itself, cloaking me in shadow. The wind picked up and the leaves battered my face, forcing me to protect my face with my arm. I clenched my eyes tightly, and suddenly the wind dissipated. I lowered my arm hesitantly and looked around.
The gorge was gone. I didn't know where I was now. I was surrounded by bucolic hills, smooth, rolling mounds, covered in lush, verdant grass. The sky was blue with a few clouds in the sky. Every so often a fresh breeze, almost a cool kiss, blew against me. The trees were dotted with trees bursting with warm colors, their flowers in full bloom.
"Isn't it just beautiful?" said a voice by my ear. I whirled around surprised to face this new girl.
Her hair was auburn and sleek, flowing down past her shoulders, cascading like a waterfall down to her full, ample breasts. Her eyes were brilliant emeralds, shining green in the sunlight. Her skin wasn't dark, but had a healthy tinge of color. Her smile was broad and bold, her teeth shining white. Her dimples were adorable, giving her an air of innocence.
But I found it hard to focus on her face once I saw her body. She was entirely nude, her only modesty provided by her red hair covering her massive, heavy, firm breasts. She also wore a necklace of dandelions, but they covered nothing. Her breasts were huge, the size of her head, but still proud and high. Her nipples, poking between her auburn hair, were a light pink, soft and delicate.
Her waist was narrow and her hips were wide; she looked like a fertility goddess. I could easily imagine primitive cultures worshipping a body like hers. Her thighs were thick and strong. Between her legs was a wispy red patch of hair, barely hiding her tight, soft, delicate pussy.
"Who are you?" I asked, startled but pleasant surprised by this nude visitor. I could already feel my boxers tightening against my roused manhood.
"I'm Primavera!" she announced, enveloping me in a hug, her massive breasts crushing me in a marshmallow heaven. She looked up at me and asked, "And you're Matthew, right?"
"Uh, ya," I said, a bit flattered that this gorgeous young woman knew who I was. "Aren't you cold in your, um, outfit?"
"But it's so
warm
out! The sun is shining, birds are singing, flowers are blooming...how could I be cold?" she asked, gesturing around her. "Isn't it just
wonderful
?"
Well if she was comfortable, I sure as heck wasn't about to force her to put on clothing. "Ya, it's great," I agreed. "The flowers are especially beautiful. I was just admiring that grove of trees over there," I said, pointing a few hills away.
She gasped in excitement. "Oh, those are my favorites! Well, all the trees here are my favorites, but those are some of my most favorite favorites! It's so great that you like them, too! Let's go see them, OK?" she said, grabbing my hand. She looked down and pouted. "Oh, but you should take off your shoes first. It feels so much better barefoot. I just hate wearing shoes and socks and sandals and pants and bras and tops...they're all uncomfortable, really, I don't know how my sisters stand them," she said, the list pouring from her mouth as she counted items off on her fingers.
I took off my shoes and socks, but decided to keep the rest on for a while. "You're going to wear all that? Well," she shrugged, "they'll come off eventually. But whatever, now you're ready!" she cheered, taking my hand in hers and running off, dragging me along. The soil was soft and yielding beneath my feet, the grass thick and fresh between my toes. It was like being a kid again, running through the park with my friends, cashing after girls who would become my first crushes, those early puppy loves.
We reached the trees and I stared around me in wonder. Their branches were heavy with pink flowers, which the wind was blowing off the branches, sending them spiraling through the air around me, dancing like ballerinas in the breeze. The flowers on the tree flocked the sky like massive, colorful clouds.
"Oh, they're here!" Primavera said, waving at the trees.
Weird girl, I thought...was she expecting the trees to wave back? Or maybe she was expecting them to make like trees, and
leaf
! Hah-WHUMP! A body suddenly fell out of the tree in front of me, landing on her hands and knees. "Are you oka-" I began, when someone else hit me from above, knocking me to the ground.
"Mfmmfffmf," I muffled. I opened my eyes, revealing a firecrotch inches from my eyes, a girl's soft pussy covering my mouth.
"Owwwww," whined the girl on top of me. Her hair was a fiery red, curly and long, reaching down past her shoulders. Her skin was pale and her cheeks and upper chest were covered in freckles. Her milky skin was soft as silk and she was light on my chest. She was a little thin, and her chest wasn't nearly as large as Primavera's, but she was a beautiful woman. Her breasts were hidden by a pair of bright blue flowers that rested gingerly upon her breasts, suspended by a thin wire. Her eyes were an otherworldly violet, large and sensual. She looked down at me with a sheepish grin and said, "I'm sorry about that. I lost my balance. Are you OK?"
"Mmffmfmff," I replied.
She grabbed her crotch with both hands and moaned. "
Please
don't move your mouth so much..." she sighed, "It feels too good..."
I grabbed her silky soft thighs and pushed her down my chest an inch. "Ya," I repeated, "I'm fine. Are you hurt?"
"No, I'm OK," she said. "Oh, right, I'm Flora, nice to meet you, and that's my sister Botanica," she said, pointed to the girl who had landed softly, almost catlike, a moment before. I turned my neck to look at her.