Chapter 4

Tonight's the night, it's gonna be alright. - R. Stuart

Her intention was to rest a few minutes, then reconnoiter the imposing Maple and the surrounding area. As she reposed, Brenda sent out a mental message that was targeted for the Old Man of the Woods. " I am back, I am here, " she thought. The searching female repeatedly broadcast the message for a period of fifteen minutes. There was no reply.

Brenda sat up and slipped out of her hiking boots and socks. The grassy hill had been in the late afternoon's shade and was a cool oasis. As she started across the barren bottom of the cove, the Sun's heat was stifling and the air seemed thinner. In her right hand, Brenda clenched a large neon green cylinder and her left hand held a jade green vial.

Upon reaching the mammoth tree, she inserted the spindle-like device into the pocket formed by the Maple's trunk. The rounded nosecone leaned away from the main trunk and almost touched the limb that Brenda had lovingly shaped during her last visit here. Twisting the small jar open with a ceramic grating, she used two fingertips to scoop out a generous glob. Brenda anointed the head of the wooden penis with the lubricating mixture. The substance was thin under the Sun's glare and some of it ran down the cock's length. Brenda dipped a second measure of the lubricant, and starting at the tree-dick's head, massaged it into the wooden ridges and valleys along its length. A final small treatment of the gels was left on the bulbous head as a thick greasy glaze that coated the darkened tip like clear polyurethane.

Brenda stood back and regarded her efforts. The ridged wooden shaft was now dark and rich brown from the oils rubbed into it. It glistened in the sunlight and looked like an inviting masterpiece of erotic art. She could feel her arousal growing and knew that this might all be for naught. Unless Brenda could feel the Old Man's acknowledgment, she might have to credit any previous contact as a hallucination.

The shunned female walked to the far side of the Maple's girth and scanned the pond's bottom for signs of the ridge. The basin looked flat and undisturbed. Maybe it had all been delusion and nothing more. The quagmire looked unruffled and solid, if there even was a bog there. Brenda returned to the beach grass and her spirit was as dimmed with doubts as the last rays of the day's sun.

Once she had the blanket spread out, Brenda peeled off her watch and sweat-saturated clothing, trading them for the negligee and the black scarf that she had carried into the woods. Its silky smoothness against her shaved vagina's sensitive skin was electrifying and caused Brenda to tremble. She snugly banded the scarf around her throat and knotted it.

Returning to the pack, Brenda removed the blackberry brandy and a baggie holding two brown tablets. She opened the bottle and sipped some of the brandy. It was thick, sweet and she could feel the warmth that it carried descending into her throat. This had always been her favorite liquor. Brenda coaxed a tablet from the bag and washed it down with a second draft of the brandy.

A final ferreting of the backpack resulted in Brenda drawing out the black highheels. She glided her feet into them, and cinched the ankle straps snuggly in place. As she imbibed a much longer draught of the syrupy elixir, Brenda mused that she had never looked better for anybody in her whole life, than she looked right then. Brenda knew that she had never been more committed to joining with another as she was right then also.

She arose and postured herself with hands on hips, and feet set a shoulder's width apart while she regarded the immense tree. Brenda scooped her finger back into the little green jar and raising the back of her negligée, worked the pliant gel around and briefly in past her sphincter. The grease spread fluidly across her eager flesh and she applied it thickly. She believed that her preparations were complete, and she smoothed the silky garment back down over her slippery rump. She took several steps and marveled at the sensation of her greased gluts as her ass's cheeks sensuously slid against each other with every stride.

Brenda began to strut slowly and saucily, back and forth, along the grassed beach. As she did this, she focused on transmitting a mental message to the Old Man of the Woods. " I am here, " she whispered aloud and repeated twice, "and I am ready for you. " Brenda had never thrown herself at anyone, and as she returned to her blanket she reflected at how sexy it made her feel about herself. The taunting woman gyrated her hips in small circles and ended with a provocative thrust of her silk-clad pelvis towards the soundless tree. Then, she eased her body back down to the blanket, to wait.

The daylight faded and the bottle drained. Brenda believed that she did not feel any unusual effects from the pill. If anything, she was feeling more alert than she should be at the bottle's halfway point. She impatiently took the second tablet with a mouthful of the blackberry potion and chewed it. She washed down the remaining fragments with another sip.

As twilight descended, mountain coolness invaded the pond basin. The simmered mud and water retained their heat, while the air lost its warmth quickly. The temperature differences caused a creeping fog to form on the pond's surface. The mist added an eerie tenor to an already desolate atmosphere, and a Loon's wail on the far shore of the small lake drew goose bumps to Brenda's warm flesh. A full Moon was rising above the treetops of the forest on the far side of the pond. It was a huge and silver orb, with light that added solidity to the twining pseudopods of ground fog. Her inner body temperature was rising as a result of the Ecstasy, and Brenda was oblivious to the falling thermometer readings.

She arose with a light wobble and walked to the waterless lagoon's edge. Brenda stood transfixed as she stared at the swirling smoke-like emanations curling from the dried pond's bed. They had started to form only moments ago, and now they obscured the ground in an ankle-deep cloud. She licked her liquor-thickened lips and tried to focus on the form of the Swamp Maple in the writhing mist. " I miss you! " she wept.

"I miss you, " the soft bass voice in her mind mimicked.

Suddenly, all was right for Brenda. All was coming into place. Slowly and carefully, she walked through the haze to her Old Man of the Woods. " I am yours, through and through." Brenda crooned.

Grasping the gauzy edge of her nightgown, Brenda raised it a few inches and leaned forward to nudge her mons against the side of the carved phallus. She slowly hitched her hips and rubbed along its lubricated length. The ringed flanges it possessed repeatedly caressed her humid vaginal lips.

"You have changed yourself for Me. " scolded the Maple.

"I wanted to please you, I wished to make you happy. Did I do so wrongly? " asked Brenda nervously.

"No, you did no wrong. You have pleased me. I am honored. " The Old Man soothed.

"I want you to fill me as no other has ever done. I want to know you as I have known no other, " whispered Brenda as she withdrew from her slow, pleasurable humping and slid around and between the greased member and the craggy trunk. The footing was precarious in her muddy soled heels and she needed a few moments to find acceptable footholds at the tree's base.