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But I have got to do something.” This wasn't going so good, she thought.Now she had made Walter really scared, from the look on his face.“Wait ! Walter broke in firmly, you really don't have anything to explain to me mom,” he saidemphatically as he reached out with his left arm and put it around her shoulders to draw her closer, so he could look into her eyes as he made his case. He laid his right hand respectfully on her knee but then he slowly started to slide it up her soft inner thigh and under her skirt until he reached the new crochless panties. He had to smile at his mom's sluttiness, he loved her so much. Sally was a little surprised by her son’s new assertiveness. It was actually turning her on, when Walter took control. Her pussy started to drool profusely as her son continued to comfort her in a reasonable, confidant tone. When Sally first felt Walter's hand going up under her dress she knew that she should probably stop him, but she just didn't have the heart anymore.. I remembered to check on my experiment. I got a lesson in the will and way of the forest. I found a wide, dark green glade surrounded by enormous trees that hadn't been there when I seeded that mean, bare scraggly patch of ground. The ground had dropped and a soak had formed at one edge which formed a small rivulet that ran for a few feet then dove into the forest mat. It seemed as if the woods were thicker and more robust in the direction which the water took. I smiled. The forest mind did react to new stimulus, both fair and foul.I suppose that I should have left a note describing what I proposed, but I didn't. I rinsed out the bottle I had been given in the rivulet, adding a sample of the original spore culture to its waters. Then I stripped and had a nice soak in the sun-warmed water. I figured that adding my scent to the mix might cause a reaction, but I didn't know what would happen. I rose, dressed and left, assuming that the forest mind would take a season or more to analyze.
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She worshipped here. This was a yearly pilgrimage, an altar where she came to kneel and pray and give thanks for all of her blessings. He was her wailing wall. The world could fall down around her, as it had a tendency to do over time, her father’s death, her sister’s nasty divorce, her husband’s distance, her own children’s betrayals, but David was a constant, her rock. She worshipped his shaft as if it were holy, and to her, that is exactly what it was. Her tongue surfacing it, every ridge and vein, the entire length, a sweet and silent invocation, again and again and again. His moans of pleasure fed her like nothing else she had ever known, and his cock filled her in ways she never knew possible. She wanted him, again, always, deep inside of her, filling that empty, aching space that only he seemed able to reach. She was climbing him, feeling her own need weeping between her legs, and he held her hips locked and still, as he always did, looking into her eyes, before letting her.

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