Left

Following the forest's guiding hand you go left. The path is uneven and often feels like it spirals. You walk over overgrown roots and thorned vines. There is an unusual darkness in the path, but not from lack of light from above. This part of the forest is lined by trees of dark green leaves. The trees seem to tilt towards you, but the feeling is almost like that of arboreal judgement. It feels like some of these trees are taking a deep look at you and that they would get up and walk away from you if they could. It's an odd feeling. To be watched with no eyes. But, as you noted earlier, its only some of the trees. Other trees have branches that gently follow the path as if guiding you along the way. Is the forest showing you that its thoughts aren't as cut and dry as you would imagine. Parts of it have doubts, it is wary of you and perhaps not impressed with what it sees. On the other hand maybe it sees potential, has expectations or just wants to help. You choose to focus more on the helpful nature of the forest than the judgement and it isn't long before the forest gets brighter. The foliage becomes a lighter green and the further you go more and more trees are in bloom.

You wouldn't know the first thing about otherworldly trees to be able to tell what is what, but the scent is relaxing. As you venture deep into the forest, you start to enjoy the calmness and stillness of it all. The pop of colourful flowers against verdant green. You are getting more into grove territory than forest. As you come across a particularly lush part of the forest, slightly off the path you spot a tree with a wide trunk, curved low to the ground. The curve and bend looks like it would make it comfortable to rest against.

You walk towards the tree, the branches are wide, you'd be covered from above.

"Baroqua, Ixy said the forest works on it's own time right?"

"Right. At the end of the day you're at its whims."

You lay your back against the tree and almost sink into it, "So progress is more or less the same if I stay still or keep moving then."

Baroqua glints in the sunlight, "Not... exactly. How confident are you that the forest wants you to stay still?

"Confident enough This feels too perfect to pass up. If I wake up and my back is killing me then I'll make up the lost time by jogging the rest of the way."

"So carelessness followed by carelessness."

You yawn and close your eyes instead of respond.

The sounds of the forest around you, whistling winds through the leaves, the sounds of things scuttering about the branches, birds and the calming scent of flowers. It doesn't take you long to feel completely relaxed against this tree. A vine brushes your face, or maybe the right word is caress. It doesn't tickle, but instead feels soothing and before long you find yourself asleep underneath the tree. While you sleep you begin to dream. A simple dream of flowers, the scent of chamomile and light. The tree you are laying under. Laying under. In your dream you aren't laying on the tree, but under it. Instead you're laying on somebody's lap. Who is she, you don't get a clear picture. Your thoughts just return to the forest again. The verdant greens, sun kissed earth tones and soft browns of the forest floor, chestnut, tan and ochre colours of trees that have chosen to standout and again the flowers. She has flowers in her hair, doesn't she. Her green hair. The scents of the flowers are changing, now its rose and lavender with warm citrus. You breath deep and feel warm as her hand rubs your chest. You relax on her lap as she caters to you. The forest feels smaller, just the two of you intimately sharing this moment. You feel the sun kiss your skin, warming you and mingling with the flowers. You feel your pants tighten and her laugh is akin to a whisper as her hand reaches down towards your pants. She shushes you as she opens your pants to take care of you. Your mighty oak stands tall as her hand, soft as cotton wraps around your shaft. Gently she runs her hand up and down your shaft, stopping just under the head, teasingly as she tugs you from the base upwards. It's only after the precum gathering at the tip of your cock leak down the side of your shaft does she glide up and over the head before circling back down and lubricating your girth with your nectar. You gasp in her touch, her hands are focused, exacting in how it feels that her entire focus is on your pleasure. She continues moving her hand up and down your shaft, grip firm and hands soft. She practices alternating pressures at different parts, a tight squeeze around the base, a twist and pull along the shaft, extra attention to where glands meet the head. Every touch is adapted as she learns you. Her thumb presses and swirls over your cock head as she encourages more and more to come from your tip and coat her hands, enabling her to stroke you faster. Your mind is in the clouds as she pleasures you, faster and faster until you groan. Your seed erupts, and rains down white on her hand. The last thing you hear is her giggle as everything fades to black.

You don't know how long you were asleep, but you feel relaxed and rejuvenated. You look back at the tree one more time before you continue on your way.