Cycle

The author would like to give special thanks to KillerRomance and teresawrites2u for proofreading and feedback.

Callista was distraught. Her mind was too busy to allow her to fall asleep. She hated to see otherwise good days ruined by bad news, and today was such a day. She found out while visiting her mother that, beginning in two days, much of the forest near her childhood home was going to be cleared by loggers. Fond memories of exploring those woods came to her. A deep love of the natural world manifested itself early in her life, and her family thought her a tomboy for the amount of time she chose to spend in the thick woods down the road from her home. Often entire days would be spent walking along the old paths her feet had made previously, searching for new hidden and enchanted places where no other person had yet explored. Callista's favorite place of all was a large clearing deep in the woods which surrounded part of a small creek, where she would go swimming on hot days and try to catch the minnows and tadpoles in her hands. She also remembered Moort, who lived next to the creek.

That was what she missed most of all, visiting Moort. She named him that when she first found the clearing at age seven. He was the only one of his kind she had ever seen — he seemed like a giant snail or squid, or perhaps something in between. Since he never moved out of that clearing, she often went there to visit, talking to him about her days. Callista remembered the strange sight of a big, purple flower that seemed to sprout right out of his skin, which made a liquid that smelled and tasted like honey. Most children would have been afraid of the creature, but not her. She adored him as a pet of sorts, albeit an unusual one. She always felt happy and peaceful around him, which is why the clearing was always her refuge whenever she felt sad or angry. Her mother had warned her more than once to stay away from Moort and out of the woods because it was dangerous, but Callista never listened. The forest was her second home, and her friend always had a gentle nature.

She had made many memories in that place, but it had been an entire seven years since she had to move away with her parents to the city. She was eighteen now, and a biology student, with more important things to do than spend hours idling among the trees. And now, very soon, the forest would be gone, leaving behind only her remembrance of their special times. As she thought about it, Callista realized she was crying, and wiped the tears away with her bed sheet. She needed to make one last visit there, tomorrow, before it was gone forever.

Eventually, she found sleep.

• § •

The dirt path she had made on her many trips into the woods was now somewhat overgrown, but Callista managed to follow it, easily recalling the way to her favorite clearing. She walked slowly, enjoying the familiar sight and smell of the summertime woodland. The afternoon was hot, even in the shade afforded by the trees, and Callista's perspiration caused her thin brown dress to cling to her skin. She was careful not to let the garment get caught on the branches and thistles along the path.

She came to a point in the path where a large tree had fallen, blocking her way at chest height. Callista made sure it was solid, and then, finding a branch to use as a foothold, carefully hoisted herself up and climbed over the fungus-covered log. She grinned to herself, imagining her mother chiding her: "You're not a little girl anymore," or "That's not very ladylike." Callista knew that she was still something of a tomboy at heart, and still able to negotiate the woodland terrain. She pushed her blond hair back behind her ears and began walking again.

The clearing finally came into sight after several more minutes of walking, and it was, for the most part, as Callista remembered it. The grass seemed to form a thick, soft carpet that glowed a brilliant shade of green in the sunlight, bordered by the shallow creek on one side. She knelt down and removed her socks and boots, setting them between two low branches of a nearby tree. She then looked to her left and saw Moort.

"Wow, you've grown," Callista thought aloud. She walked barefoot through the thick grass towards his part of the clearing where the grass stopped. The top of his large olive-green shell was level with her waist, and she guessed he must have been at least two meters long. It was difficult to think that this creature was only the size of a small pumpkin when she first found him, but then again, she had grown a bit herself since then, as well. She walked around to his head, which faced towards the creek, and glanced at the two large, black eyes directly below the flower-like growth.

"Moort!" Callista said, cheerily. She knelt to stroke one of his cool, slick feelers, one of six which sprawled across the clearing for several meters in every direction, each about as thick as her own upper arm. The young maiden allowed her hand to run along the smooth length of it, feeling it contract slightly under her touch. As she had hoped, Moort slowly curled the appendage around her in an embrace. Although he seldom moved very much, she remembered fondly these occasional "hugs" from earlier years.

"You do remember me," the girl said in her melodic voice, smiling. "I'm really sorry I haven't been around in so long." The smile vanished. She truly regretted having neglected her old friend, especially now that … no, she would not dwell on sad thoughts.

She sat, talking to him for a while, telling of her life in the years since they last met. After a time, she realized that her sweaty dress was as sticky as ever, and Moort's hug left a large print of his mucus around her, familiar but messy. Callista needed to escape into the cool water of the creek.

"I'll be back," she said to Moort, giving his arm another pat.

The grass was soft under her feet as Callista walked across the clearing to the rocky shore of the creek. She knelt, submerging one of her feet — it was quite cool, but she could get used to it. After all, the only alternative was to remain in the stifling summer afternoon heat.

Callista stepped back and pulled her dress up over her torso, letting it fall onto the grass. She then casually bent forward and peeled her white panties downward over her fair legs, stepping out of them and hanging them from the branch of a nearby tree. Standing there, nude, Callista felt much more comfortable, and also sensed a feeling of liberation. She looked down for a moment, admiring herself: The way her hips curved just so, the pink buds atop a pair of small firm breasts, the smoothness of her tummy, the neatly-trimmed patch of hair above her cleft. She felt beautiful. Callista twirled once on the grass, smiling, her creamy skin and shimmering blond hair illuminated in the sunshine of the clearing. It's unfortunate I can't spend more time this way, she thought. A tinge of bashfulness struck her as she glanced over to her old friend whom she realized had just watched her undress, but she quickly dismissed it. He wouldn't mind, she thought with a chuckle.

A cool breeze rose from the creek and wafted over Callista's skin, as if beckoning her to the water. She bent to pick up the dress and stepped down over the rocks, kneeling to wash the garment in the cool stream before hanging it on the nearby branch to dry. She then returned to the creek and slowly waded in, adjusting herself to the temperature. Callista tensed briefly as the surface touched her sensitive womanhood, and then lowered herself into the water. She swam idly for the larger part of an hour, listening to the birds, gazing up at the wispy clouds. There was something peaceful about it, being the only human around for several kilometers, in a place that was all her own. In a few short days it would all be gone, so Callista was determined to savor the experience.

• § •

The girl waded back to shore and stepped back onto the soft grass. It struck her that she had not brought a towel, so she laid down and closed her eyes, simply letting herself dry on the warm grass not far from her friend. After a moment, Callista heard something slide across the ground, and saw one of Moort's long feelers not far from her own left arm.

"You must want some attention," she cooed with a smile, leaning over to pat the thing.

Moort's slick arm moved closer until it found Callista's torso, causing her to shiver at the cool touch. As she lay there petting it, she became stricken with sadness. She had been forced to abandon the forest, and this magnificent creature, many years ago, and now was her last chance to enjoy the serenity of it all. Callista wished more than anything she could do something to save at least a part of this majestic place. Tears began to form in her beautiful green eyes. Was this sanctuary really replaceable?

Her train of thought was broken by Moort, however, who pushed her onto her back with his feeler. Before she could react, the thing pressed itself against her body and began sliding backwards. Callista took a sharp breath as she felt and watched the thing slither downward over her flat stomach and between her thighs, petting her nether region as it went. It caught her by surprise — he had never touched her in such a way before. In fact, nobody had, apart from herself on occasion. Was he being amorous? The thought seemed ridiculous, but Callista couldn't help but wonder if there was a significance to it. She looked down at the sparkling wet trail which traced a thick line from her left breast down to her mons, where it matted the delicate patch of hair. She strangely found herself slightly aroused.

"Hey, stop that," she called playfully to Moort. She stood up and walked over to him with an amused smile. As she thought about it, she never really knew the creature's gender or if it even had one. She had simply always thought of Moort as male.

Callista knelt next to Moort's face, where the large purple flower-like growth was, and looked at one of his round, black eyes quizzically for a moment. She turned and brought her lips to the sweet liquid inside the flower, recalling how a sip of it had always somehow made her feel better in the past. A cool feeler reached up to touch the girl's back and nudged at her shoulders, urging her to drink more, and she obliged. Another one slowly slid up the outside Callista's right leg, and she reached down, running her hand along it as she drank.

She lifted her head from the flower-like object and felt her mood start to brighten almost immediately, feeling completely at ease. The girl smiled at her friend, not caring to wipe away the sweet fluid dripping from her chin, which dribbled downward onto her breasts. The tentacle on her back traveled under her left arm, slowly curling around her torso. Callista looked down, watching it inch across the mounds of her breasts. She felt completely relaxed in his arms, and welcomed the comforting and sensual embrace. Moort's other arm advanced as well, creeping over the smooth curve of her hip. Callista's breathing became slower as she felt it cup one of the moons of her apple-shaped bottom, its tip following the soft contour, painting a slick coat of mucus over the right half of her creamy derrière.

He had never touched Callista this much before, or in this way. Moort's ministrations were as those of a curious explorer, charting the lush terrain of her body, yet at the same time, he seemed to know exactly where to go. In the past it was simply the affectionate embraces of a friend, it was now much more. He now caressed her with the attention of a passionate but gentle paramour. Callista was slightly confused, but not deterred. Although she did not understand why he touched her in this unfamiliar way, she found herself appreciating it. At this point she could have repelled his advances and freed herself, but she did not want to. She smiled faintly and ran her hand along his feelers.

The tip of Moort's feeler traveled into the dark valley of Callista's round backside, stopping to examine the firm pucker that was its focal point, which contracted at his touch. The girl moaned weakly. She relaxed her posture, relying on Moort's strong feelers for support as she knelt in front of him, and instinctively allowed her thighs to part. The slick thing once again snaked between them, stroking her feminine cleft with its cool, wet touch, reaching upwards until its tip fondled her navel. Heavy breaths escaped Callista's slightly open mouth. She reached down, letting the thick, wet appendage glide between her hands as it stroked her. She noticed a peculiar heat low in her abdomen. It was a completely natural reaction to such affection, and yet ….

His arm slid away from her nether lips and down her right leg, where it curled around her thigh. Another reached up and began doing the same to her left. At that moment, Moort gently lowered her to a sitting position and began shifting his soft body forward, raising his head. Callista was confused, and wanted to know what the motion meant. However, in the same moment, she admired his strength, and found a strange thrill in the way he held her captive in his grasp, anticipating.

As Moort continued shifting, Callista was somewhat surprised to see a vertical slit in the flesh of his exposed belly. Moort only gave her a moment to ponder this before she observed a small, dark red bump begin to protrude from the slit, emitting soft wet noises as it did. The thing was surrounded by four smaller appendages, which also extended outward from his body as if emerging from a sheath. At first, the red thing appeared to be about the size of one of Callista's fingers, but as she watched in awe, the thing slowly swelled to become over 20 centimeters in length and as thick as her wrist at its base.

• § •

The dark red phallus stood directly before her, its wetness glistening in the sunlight. Callista took a deep breath as her eyes traveled upward along its slightly curved length, segmented like a rattlesnake's tail, which gradually tapered to a rounded tip. She knew immediately what it was — her mind raced as the reality of the situation suddenly took hold of her. Moort was showing her a new part of himself, taking her into exciting and forbidden new territory. She stared in wonderment, admiring the virile object. Callista couldn't help herself — she reached out and gently grasped the thing, which twitched slightly at her touch. Her slender hands began to slide along its length, manually exploring her companion much as he had done to her. Callista was suddenly viewing him in an entirely different light, as a majestic and sexual being. Indeed, she herself had blossomed into a sensual young woman in the years since she saw him last, and now, his intentions toward her were clear. Is this really happening? she thought. It was all so strange and sudden, the unexplained attraction between these two very different beings. After a moment, Callista stopped trying to understand it all, and simply surrendered herself to nature. All inhibition had vanished.

Moort's stiff organ began to gradually retract, sliding out of her grasp, once again becoming a small knob of flesh nestled in the sheath of his body. The tentacles holding her thighs gently parted her lap, a gesture she did not resist. She allowed herself to fall back to rest on her elbows, watching him. Her nether lips, moist with his mucus and her own feminine dew, smacked faintly as they separated. Her warm, pink flower opened for him. Callista knew what was coming next, and although struck with a tinge of anxiety, she welcomed it. The feelers grasping her legs pulled her lower body forward and upward, lowering her onto her back, and she gasped at the cool touch of the fleshy lump as it connected to her most intimate region. The four small tendrils reached out, the two upper ones curling around each one of her thighs, and the two lower ones snaking over her backside and around her hips, crossing each other just below her navel. They gripped her body as she lay on her back, feet on either side of Moort, firmly binding his crude sex organ to her own delicate womanhood. Callista's mind was filled with emotion: Anxiety, excitement, lust. She knew the culmination of his desire — their desire — was upon them, and that she could not have escaped even if she wanted to.

Then it began. Callista felt the red organ slowly push forward, easily slipping into her with the aid of their natural lubricants. It gradually grew longer and thicker, splitting her flower, causing her to squeal at the pain. The powerful invader was unyielding, though, and pushed forward, stretching her tender virgin flesh around the swelling phallus. Tears welled in Callista's eyes, but she knew it couldn't stop; she didn't even want it to stop. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, only hoping that the pain would go away soon.

The thing inside of her began making slow, stroking motions, in a smooth rhythm which seemed to spread throughout her entire body. Callista's mind was blank. The pain was slowly dissipating under her lover's touch, and she was now utterly absorbed by the sensations. Eyes half-open, she whimpered as she placed her hands over the tendrils caressing her abdomen, reveling in the fullness of him inside her belly. The appendage clutching her breasts stirred as well, stroking her now exquisitely sensitive nubs, adding yet another melody to the symphony of pleasure. Callista felt the heat inside her grow to a feverish intensity, and after a couple of minutes, the heat became an explosion — the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced erupted within her womb and engulfed her completely. A squeal of ecstasy pierced the tranquil air of the forest, heard only by her lover. The girl's vision went black. Her loins contracted forcefully around the thick column of flesh within her, spurring him on, exciting him further. The thrusting within her, and the caresses around her body, quickly became faster and more intense. The creature ravaged Callista as she tightly shut her eyes, every thrust shaking her body and causing sweet feminine moans to escape the O formed by her soft lips.

The tendrils tightened around Callista's body, squeezing, as Moort made one hard, final thrust. Her first orgasm had not quite subsided before her mind was electrified by another, and again she squealed loudly, squirming against him. Her body was swallowed by a sea of ecstasy. She gazed up at the creature's face between her knees and whined. Once the most intense part of it had passed, the sensation of the knobby organ stroking her insides gradually yielded to a powerful gush of cool liquid which seemed to fill her belly.

Callista lay in the matted grass, grasping the arm curled around her upper body, looking into Moort's blank eyes, breathing heavily. The tendrils released their hold on the pretty girl's hips, and Moort's phallus made a wet sucking sound as it withdrew from her. As he released his grip, Callista got up and stumbled three steps before her shaking knees gave way, and she quickly fell back onto the grass.

Her mind was void of thought as she lay down, panting, staring blankly into the tree branches above. After a moment she reached down and cupped her leaking womanhood, dipping her fingers into Moort's fluid. Callista looked at the pale wetness on her fingers with a detached curiosity for several seconds, and then hesitantly brought them to her mouth. She found the taste intriguing: Bitter, salty, slightly pungent. Callista suddenly realized how mentally and physically exhausted she was. She rolled over into the downy grass and lay on her side, glancing over at Moort, who was again as still and peaceful as usual. She curled up and closed her eyes.