A Warm Summer Night

It was madness, but she'd always wanted to commit it. She'd always dreamed of it, but when she thought about it, she lacked the courage. It seemed like nothing, yet something held her back from this madness. Perhaps someone would say it wasn't madness at all, what great thing was going skinny dipping in the river at night, but she thought it was.

She shook her still-damp hair. She felt herself growing cold. "I have to move a bit or I'll freeze," she thought. The cold water of the river she'd just emerged from trickled down her naked body in small droplets.

It was a dark night, the stars shone brightly and twinkled in the slowly flowing water at her feet. She bent down to find a towel—she'd left it somewhere—and there it was. She dried herself quickly and thoroughly, trying to warm her frozen body.

She was happy; she didn't feel like going back to the city at all; the night was too beautiful. In fact, she was already warm. The summer night gently enveloped her in its cloak. She threw the towel on the ground and slowly walked toward the forest. "I should go home," she thought, but something was pulling her in the opposite direction. Her bare feet felt every twig and pebble on the hard ground. She felt incredible—naked, her hair still wet, she walked under the stars, along the edge of the meadow, toward the forest. Her shapely breasts swayed slightly with her steps. She spread her arms wide and looked up.

"My stars," she whispered, and then fell silent. The whisper seemed so loud in the silence, broken only by the gentle rustle of leaves on the trees, rustled by a light breeze.

"I love you," she said, louder now, as if to break the silence with her voice.

"I love you, stars!"

The forest drew her in with every step. The sandy path gently caressed her feet. She began to run. She suddenly felt a desire to hug the trees, to grab them by the hair and become one with them. The twigs that dug painfully into her feet didn't bother her—she was already among the trees. She touched the bark of a pine tree growing nearby. It was damp and cool. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around the tree. Her breasts touched the rough surface. She rubbed against it for a moment, savoring the felt texture of the tree. A twig pricked her thigh, but her imagination was already suggesting other images.

Through closed eyes, she saw the tree embrace her, caressing her with its twigs, touching her stomach, wrapping itself around her neck and shoulders. The hard, rough surface caused a slight pain, but it only caused an ever-increasing arousal. She stood there, rubbing herself and daydreaming for perhaps fifteen minutes, when a rustle behind her suddenly roused her from her blissful reverie.

She froze—"Is someone here, or did I just imagine it?" she thought. But she was afraid to move. She listened—after a moment, she heard it again. A delicate, almost inaudible rustle of moss and grass, crushed by footsteps. No more than a few meters behind her. This person must have seen her, or perhaps it was some animal? But shouldn't an animal be more afraid of a person?

She barely breathed. She heard her heart beating, and it seemed to her that it was something, or perhaps the person behind her could hear it too. She felt that the excitement she'd felt all night hadn't faded, quite the opposite. Her mind, filled with stars and twigs that brought delight, had no desire to stop there. Slowly, very slowly, she moved her hand, still wrapped around the tree branch. She ran her hand down the bark, then back up. She moved her fingers to her skin.

She felt the person behind her watching her intently. She felt his gaze piercing the darkness of the night, trying to touch her form, to capture her movements, the smoothness of her skin and feminine curves. A gaze that pierced the darkness, only occasionally illuminated by a pinpoint star that pierced the dense veil of the forest. She knew that when her fingers traced the contours of her hips, touching them lightly, when she dug her hand between her thighs, or when she brushed against the trunk of a tree, he saw it, he read her body in every movement and desired that smoothness.

She was no longer afraid, though uncertainty and tension lingered in her movements. But now she did it consciously, for him—whoever he was. It was so clearly written in the stars that on this wild night she would be allowed to spend these moments with some stranger. She slowly turned her back to the tree, but kept her eyes closed. She didn't want to look. And not because she was afraid. She simply didn't want to ruin this magical moment, this uncertainty. Her heartbeat ignited an internal fire within her, burning and preventing her from focusing on any single thought—she had to keep doing this, and she couldn't open her eyes. She stretched her arms upward, arching her back, revealing her entire body to him. She knew he couldn't see her clearly, but she felt it almost physically as his gaze skimmed over her skin, as his thoughts guessed at details of her body he couldn't see.

Slowly, as if in slow motion, she lowered one hand to touch her face. She revealed it to him, her fingers sliding over her closed eyelids, over her parted lips, down her neck, and down her body. She held herself back from moving her hand any faster. Her breathing quickened again, and her rapid pulse made the unnaturally slow movements all the more difficult. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted.

She stroked her breasts. "This is for you, my love," she thought. "Look and admire, become inflamed and desire me, just as I desire your touch now." Her nipples stood stiffly against the cold and the touch. Her hands were cold, but her imagination was igniting her from within. She kept her eyes closed; her own touch brought her great pleasure. "Come on," she told herself, "come on," and her hand seemed reluctant to play with her breasts, unable to tear herself away from their softness. But finally, it slid down her stomach to find its way among the neatly trimmed hairs.

It was strange, but even though she knew her body perfectly, at this moment she seemed to be rediscovering it, as if she were just getting to know it, creeping with unconcealed shyness towards the place that so desperately yearned to be touched and caressed. Inch by inch, second by second, her fingers brushed aside the short hairs, finally touching her lips, peering between those folds that yearned for these guests. "What are you waiting for? Will you come to me, or will you just stand there?" she thought. But she still didn't open her eyes. She caressed herself gently now, slowly but carefully choosing the most sensitive spots. Her fingers sometimes brushed aside, sometimes covered her feminine petals. Provoking herself, she constantly delved into the secret she so desperately wanted to confide to him.

She had done this many times, but now, here in the forest, under the stars, leaning against the broad trunk of a pine tree, with some stranger staring at her in the dark, it gave her a completely different experience. She felt part prostitute tempting a client, part wood nymph luring an innocent boy to his doom among the trees. But that was precisely what added to the magic of the moment, and her imagination, untouched by any real image, brought her to near orgasm with every vision she encountered. She yearned for fulfillment. She yearned so desperately for fulfillment now. "I'm yours, take me," she begged silently, the gentle caress of her own fingers arousing her more than the tongue of her passionate lover. And she felt him move.

The sudden warmth approaching her body was alien, yet so deeply desired. Without pausing in her caresses, she reached her other hand out in front of her. It touched soft fur...

The lightning bolt that shot through her body in the form of a sudden shiver of terror paralyzed her completely. Panic—that was the most appropriate word to describe her thoughts—made her unable to move. The hair she touched was short, thick, and soft, like a cat's, and it surely covered the entire torso of this someone, or something. But she didn't have time to dwell on it. She felt a warm, yet inhuman hand grip her wrist. A strong arm grabbed hers and pressed it against the tree above her head. The other hand, frozen in terror, still nestled among the folds of her womanhood, ended up held firmly against the tree at hip level. She tried to pull away, but the strong, soft, furry body pressed against her, preventing any movement. She was afraid to open her eyes.

Right next to her ear, she heard a soft voice humming a murmuring melody, like a strange forest song. It was extraordinary, so soothing, blissful, and warm. Panic and fear slowly ebbed away from her. She felt like a tamed animal, beginning to trust its master, its conqueror, more and more with each passing moment. Somehow, he was the superior being here, and she was a flighty prey caught in invisible chains. The grip on her hands loosened. In her mind's eye, she now saw waves washing over her, soothing all her anxieties and fears. Warmth and peace began to fill her body, seeping with the rustling of the melody. Soft, warm fingers touched hers and slowly moved up her arms.

She surrendered to it. It brought her pleasure. She didn't think, didn't want to think, surrendered only to the pleasure of the touch. The hand, covered with fluffy fur, now caressed her neck, slowly approaching her breasts. She dared to move—first with one hand, then with her leg, brushing against his legs, and finally returning her body to his touch. The fear vanished completely, replaced by a burning desire.

"This is a dream," she thought, and sank her fingers into the strong, furry body. She felt his breath on her. "I have to open my eyes," she thought. She hesitated for only a few seconds, then she did. Before her was an almost human face, only covered in fur. His entire body was covered in such soft fur. Only the palms of his hands were smooth. But what she saw most were his eyes. She couldn't tell their color, for everything is black at night, but those eyes sparkled. They sparkled like stars.

He was whispering something, but she couldn't understand the words. Staring at the hypnotizing glint, she couldn't do anything. She could still feel his touch, arousing despite the unusual situation, or perhaps even more so. With all her willpower, she forced herself to close her eyes again and not look at the glint. As soon as she did, he touched her between her legs. She was wet, she knew it perfectly.

Slowly, gently, he turned her back. She leaned one hand against the tree and began caressing herself with the other again.

"This dream is so extraordinary, I have to do it," she thought. He radiated such extraordinary strength and peace the entire time. His touch was so gentle, yet at the same time, it was as if he knew exactly how and where to touch her, as if he were playing some fascinating, sensual symphony on a thousand instruments.

She tipped her head back, and a soft moan of pleasure escaped her lips. She spread her legs wider, placing her hand between them. She felt how wet she was, how much he yearned for this strange night to come to pass. And he knew it too. There was something magical about this creature; his touch, though so unusual, was precisely what she subconsciously yearned for. She felt his closeness, his soft fur on her thighs and buttocks as he pressed his body against hers.

"Take me," she whispered softly. But he only continued to caress her lower abdomen, enveloping her in his furry arms.

"Please, take me, I'm yours," her voice grew ever more confident.

And finally, what she longed for happened. She felt him enter her slowly but firmly. A wave of excitement coursed through her body like a shiver. It was almost magical. He moved inside her slowly at first, filling her completely. She felt his body slap against her buttocks. Then faster and faster, and she felt her blood pulsing at a frantic pace, her breath failing to keep pace with the rhythm of her bodies, turning into quiet moans of pleasure.

The tree smelled of resin. When her face was right next to the trunk, she could almost taste its bark, and he fucked her like that, over and over again. Until finally, she felt herself drifting off into the stars. The world spun with the pleasure that enveloped her, and the world vanished. Only the taste of bark on her tongue and the scent of resin filling her mind, mingling with the bliss that washed over her languid body.

The sun's rays woke her. She lay naked on a bed of leaves at the edge of the forest. The sun was just rising before her. She remembered the night – "Did I just dream this? It's impossible, how could I have gotten here?" She looked around, but there was no sign of him. There was nothing left for her to do but get up and walk down the dirt road to the river, where she had left her clothes, and return to the city, to her home, to her ordinary life.

Who was he? She would probably never know, but she felt he was some magical being, the lord of this forest and all the creatures that entered it. He would return someday, and perhaps she would meet him again. But now the wild night was over, and a new, ordinary day was dawning.