She decided a walk would clear her head.

Loss always came with a sense of defeat, she thought, as she pulled on her sneakers. The end of one thing often accompanied the start of another. Close a door, open a window.

“Stupid metaphors” she grumbled, tying her pink keds into double knots, her skirt hiked to her knee.

Loss hurt. Loss sucked. Endings left you feeling empty. And maybe a bit…lost. Walking would, at the very least, keep her sane.

She decided to stroll. It was a fine evening, twilight beginning to cast its magical light upon the freshening world. Sprouts were everywhere, and bees were taking advantage of every warm moment, restocking their pollen larders. She stopped to watch a busy fellow, head buried deeply inside a forsythia flower. Such a small flower, such a small creature, both so dependent on each other to survive.

All around her she saw pockets of beauty, each one easing her stiff shoulders, filling her heart with the wonder of nature. The last, long slanted rays of light speared up into clouds, painting them in tones of purple, and pink. She glanced from the sky to her sneakers, and smiled.

Crossing into the park, she meandered the cobbled path, then, charmed by the green glow of fresh grass, she veered off, and entered the verdant undergrowth of the public garden.

It was quiet here. Parents had rounded up kids and headed them off for showers, it was a school night, after all. A lone jogger passed at the edge of the garden, on the path.  She ducked under low branches, feeling like she was a kid again, exploring secret places under trees.

The birds fluttered as she passed thickets of forsythia, chirping as she disturbed their roosting. The light was pearly gray now, the twilight soothing. It was cool under the trees here, and the soft sensual scent of  spring-time loam relaxed her deeply.

Somehow she’d walked her sorrow away, and was simply filled with the magic and beauty of the night.


He watched her from behind the big tree. Oh, so sweet, so tender! Something about her posture kept him quiescent, merely watching her. She touched him.

That was worrisome.


She thought she should turn around now, since true night was falling, the last ruddy glow from the sunset dying on the horizon. The light under the trees was very dim, and she stumbled several times on exposed roots. Ahead of her, illuminated in the darkness, was the largest sycamore tree she had ever seen!


She didn’t recall seeing it on her way into the woodsy area, but this one was a beauty! She walked up to it, placing her palms against the mottled bark. It was warm, and almost smooth. So many colors mottled its surface, from pale white to reddish-brown. The low branch beside her was thick enough that she could clamber up on it and sit, even lay down.

How could she resist?

Laying against the branch, feeling the incredible age of it, she felt like she was becoming, at last, peaceful in her spirit. This tree had seen eons pass, and undoubtedly, lovers come and gone. What was one more?

Crickets chirped slowly from the edge of the stone wall that bordered the park, and she looked up from the branch and into the sky. Stars came out, one by one, illuminating the darkness of the velvet sky.


He watched her, moving closer on silent feet. He rarely came here especially at this time of day, but he must have been guided. Gods knew he’d been a dull boy lately.

He watched as she settled down on the branch, looking for all the world like a fae being. Her skirt hung low, fluttering in the breeze, and he caught the scent of woman on the wind. Mmmm… how he loved that smell. All those soft, moist folds, the tension of thigh muscles quivering as he…

He snapped his head away from that particular fantasy. His cock had half risen with those thoughts. It would be quite easy to slip up to the sweet thing laying there, exposed and oh so vulnerable. But something about her tugged at him, and he held himself in check.

He smoothed his hand over his dick, willing it to relax. Yeah, like that ever worked. He looked over at the woman again. Outlined against the darkness, his excellent vision could clearly see her nipples protruding against her snug top. He almost moaned. Succulent, delicious, puckery nipples! They were his absolute favorite thing.


She absorbed the quiet peace of the tree, of the night, but knew she really needed to get back home. She shifted her weight, and slipped from the branch. Going up to the main trunk, she embraced the tree, whispering ‘thank you’.  Her hand caressed the opening where a branch had been lost in years past, now looking for all the world like a kissing mouth. She slid her hand into the mouth, turning her head at a sudden, unexpected shout from behind her…


….before she fell.