The tree pulls the branch and its fingers out of my pussy, allowing me to catch my breath, even though I’m still suspended above the ground. My skin tingles with a tension that lingers in the air. It’s hard to explain. I’m inside the equivalent of the tree’s belly, yet its gaze feels like a brand. I can’t give him any more. My body just wasn’t built for multiple orgasms. Sex with Erik was good. He always made sure I climaxed, but it was nothing mind-blowing. I always found him to be more of a breast man than anything else, but I suppose it makes a sick sort of sense.
