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The Exchange 4: Reciprocity

She awoke reclined beneath the plant, suspended on a tongue of fat tendrils. Tiny buds and pink, blooming flowers surrounded her like a shrine. Her breasts were an even curve, unpainful in their fulness but wholesome in shape. Her top was draped around them. She made no attempt to close it as she stood,. Instead, she admired the way the gentle curves of her chest rolled forward as she rose. They were convex above a lean, concave form. Her rich, earthen pelt was haloed by the cool whitish-blue of the sunrise, her breasts rising up and outward to present pink flesh upward from atop her spry frame. Where would she go like this? Who would she return to?

You-Us knows the memory song, sees the present written after them. Others.

Somewhere astride her mind, she saw memories of her time with the other expeditioners in absolute, reality-like clarity With a tingle of sudden lust she realized how deep she could go with Us. What if she stayed here forever, chasing ghosts and living fantasies forever?

No.

You-Us, may part ways?

Perhaps. Perhaps that was how it had to be. She felt a gentle storm of melancholy in the wake of her decision, echoing from the forest all around her. It receded as if it had been contained and understood for what it was. In flashes, she saw what they had seen, felt the tightening in her stomach. Intense emotion. Love for her family, another kind of anticipation for all of tomorrow's lovers on other, faraway planets. Nomad lands, unfamiliar skies.

Us felt shallowly, feel your need now deeply. Know of you, worldwalker.

She straightened, some parts of her body slightly reluctant to join her as they wobbled after her. Others. The expedition! She had to get home! She saw them, many images saturated with the richness of memories in shallow time. They walked across her limbs, brushed her living, green parts, echoed across her forest.

She felt the memories of the places in gold. The muscular yet calm and pure gray-wolf recited sutras and burned incense in a knothole. The two foxes, the surveyors and planetary speculators, scampered up branches and made love, she shied away form that. These were not memories, they were people who were still alive. It would be best to leave them their illusion of dignity.

Then, she felt the places along those places, routes, leylines. Plans crystallized inside of her thoughts. She smiled.

"Yeah," her voice almost made her start. The act of forming actual words, of hearing them reverberate thought his place with sudden loudness. "That's it."

She whistled to herself as she hiked through noon. She climbed branches and jumped gaps,grinning stupidly through the dull pleasure her ungainly breasts brought as they wobbled. The fullness was enough to notice, but not nagging enough to grow painful. But, when dusk came, she felt it again.

Us sang to her. She saw the living things all around, she WAS the living things all around, each in its own instant. Each subtly starved, living slightly hollowed of their original purpose, sleeping waiting, for her.

The fronds of an otherwise ordinary bush parted to her right, revealing a cleft within another tree. This one seemed young. Inanimate struts of wood interwove with soft flesh that blushed a dark green in her presence.

Her naked flesh seemed to blush in sympathy with a gentle shade of green not too dissimilar. She had theories why this had happened. It was inside her, as it was in everything else. A huge plurality of cellular, one-neuron minds in some kind of sympathetic link. It sounded almost magical, but she could only guess at any scientific explanation. Quantum entanglement? Some sort of henceforth unexplained time-space hack on reality? Who could be sure?

She shivered as she watched a storm of tiny, sucker-tipped feelers writhe in a great knot, emerging like a storm from a cloud of knobby buds in the hollow. As she approached, they immediately found her. Their tips crowded over every square inch of her erect teats, each drawing in unison.

As her chest heaved upward with each draw, she honored Us with a gracious thought. Then kneeled spread-legged before a third feeler rising to meet her folds, open in arousal.

She dreamed with a foot in a plurality's mind. She felt the wind in thousands of places, caressing her skin, spread out like a field of stars across an entire planet. At the center of her awareness, she saw herself through the many simple eyes inside the plants around her. She saw in panorama the green forest of narrow vines, converging in the dozens on a few inches of flesh. They writhed with orgiastic devotion, pulsating with her milk that moved in great waves of motion back into the plant.

The other feeler was courted by her spread knees, caressing her thighs as it slithered forward into her waiting entrance. The sound of its entry came from her own ears, a wet slithering that betrayed her eagerness. She felt a distant part of herself rock her hips forward and her own moan was a sweet melody echoing at the speed of sound into the trees like a ripple on the pond of her mind.

She felt herself through the plant as other vines emerged from the knothole. Vines cradled her buttocks and toyed with her bobtail, starkly raised as she rode the feeler in her folds. They didn't have to toy with what was behind to know she had no desire to test herself there. She cradled herself, wrapping under the significant cleft of her breasts. The feelers encircling them were lost in their softness. Their grip was sure but gentle as they idly toyed and squeezed her, easing her burden from within her.

As another stroked her stomach, she felt the shivering rise of a climax. Even as she watched herself sleep, she felt the sharp echoes of pleasure, propagating through herself and Us. It fed itself in a neverending loop of empathic feedback that rang like a bell, fading toward, but never reaching nothingness.

She fell in and out of a dream state between climaxes that came slowly but surely throughout the night. Cycles moved beyond cycles. The rhythmic suckling of the mouths upon her nested within the movements of the feeler within her loins buried within the slow rise from sleep and into the sparkling, unwaking fog of an orgasm.

She dreamed inside these cycles. She imagined the forest spilling awareness into her and coalescing with her mind even as her own fluids streamed away from her naked flesh, blushing green as unseen fingers massaged and kneaded it. Tiny flowers bloomed from beneath her fur and familiar vines climbed her nude body like a trellis, hugging every curve and twisting up her full breasts. The vines in her loins filled her and tickled her insides, deeper than the last and more bold.

They suddenly swelled inside her and she crashed back into the forest, into her own body in time to arch into a thundering release. Her voice cracked through a howl so primal and full of ecstacy, she almost sounded as if she were in pain.

She fell into another dream, alien memories. She drank from an ample woman with black and white patterning... a ruminant morph. Her bosom blushed red, heaving with each breath as four feelers tongued and squeezed her. Intricate jadework clinked across her midriff, made by the hands of a devotee. Behind her, a tiny, airborne drone of bizzare design kept her way, its gaze darting around behind her. Her bounty brought chemical diversity, hitherto unheard of possibilities. She grew, prodded her hosts into exploiting this new input.

She flashed back into a shuddering orgasm. The feelers at her breasts squeezed her, sending hair-thin streaks of fluid from their captives as she pressed down on the feeler, still puckering and gaping with an earnest rhythm inside.

The next morning, she awoke, feeling a wealth of experiences, as if she'd dreamed eternities. The gentle scholar gently touched her cheek as the salt wind blew from their first trip to a real beach. The first time she'd seen the shadow side of a gas giant, blues shifting to deep reds as it glowed with its own internal pressure.

She sighed, naked within the arms of an inanimate bush. Two plump, utterly spottless fruits sat between her stomach and breasts, caught in their curves. The plant was covered again. It was unobtrusive, almost nonexistent now, almost if it had all been a fever dream. How deep would she go, the forest asked.

Now that she was retracing the steps of her colleagues, what if she brought back with her a discovery?

Us will bear gifts. Truths.

It had been so long since the voice had spoken, differentiated from her own thoughts. It was as if the forest was hers, even if she felt the subtle slant of another mind. But it was so close to her most of the time. Its thoughts were a lover's breath, easily audible against her sleeping ear. Now it had something truly interesting in and of itself to bring to her awareness. She felt the pull of space in a certain direction, not far from the spaces where a small part of their awareness watched the others.