There was this one time when a girl got stuck in a tree. There I was, out for my twice-weekly walk just outside the woods, minding my own business, when I heard a voice.

“Shit.”

I paused. Scanning the path ahead, I saw nobody. The narrow woodland trail was empty in front and behind. To my right, an expanse of fields. To my left, a hedgerow that went on and one.

“Fuck.”

The voice had definitely come from my left.

“Hello?” I called.

A heard a distinct gasp, and then, “Stay away! Don’t come over here— Just— Fuck!”

I stood there, uncertain. The hedge was too tall to see over, but I could see a few openings here and there. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”

“No! No, I’m fine. Thank you, goodbye!”

Chewing my lip, I started to walk on my way. Clearly this girl didn’t want help. Or didn’t want my help, anyway. Probably something embarrassing. I guessed she was taking a shit or something, and had forgotten to bring toilet roll. Or maybe she’d got some on her pants.

“Ow! Oh, for fuck’s sake—”

I stopped again. “Sure you don’t need help?” I called.

After a silence, she said, “It . . . it’s too . . . I feel so stupid.”

My heart went out to her. “Look, whatever it is, obviously you need help. If it’s something embarrassing, just remember we don’t know each other. We’re complete strangers. So I can just help you and then go, and you’ll never have to face me again.”

Another long pause. “Um . . . well, okay, I think. Aw, shit. Okay, just find a way through the hedge.”

Despite her apparent humiliation, I was actually pretty eager to see what the hell was going on. I wouldn’t laugh, though. Or judge her. Or anything. I was here to help, and that was all.

I climbed through a gap and wound up in another field. I spotted a mobile phone perched on a selfie stick, and the stick was stuck into the ground. I turned to where the phone was pointed, but I didn’t see anyone. “Where are you?”

“Up here,” she said softly.

I glanced up—and there she was, sprawled facedown on a branch, arms and legs dangling. “Oh, you’re stuck up a tree?”

She said nothing, and a moment later I realized the true scale of her predicament.

“Oh. You’re stuck up a tree . . . with no clothes on.”

Sighing, she buried her face in the bark of the branch she lay on. I looked twice, then three times. Definitely no clothes. The branch was pretty thick, almost as wide as her body, which made it easy for her to dangle her limbs on either side.

“I have to ask,” I said, trying not to laugh. “Why?”

She gestured feebly. “Selfie.”

“Okay, yeah, but . . . why up a tree with no clothes on?”

“Just because, all right?” she snapped. “Are you going to help me or not?”

“Sure, sure.” I looked around. “Where are your clothes?”

“In a bag at the bottom of the tree.” When I looked again, she added, “Other side.”

Ah, there it was—a simple backpack with the flap unzipped. Inside, I saw her clothes stuffed in there. Her black lace panties were on top.

“So, you want me to hand these up to you?”

“What? No. I can’t get dressed while perched on this branch. The problem is that I’m fucking terrified of heights. Someone bet me a thousand dollars—climb a tree naked and lie on a branch like a lioness.”

“You’re kidding! A thousand dollars? Jeez, I’d do it too.”

“Yeah, well, there you go. So I did it, and it just about killed me getting up here. I thought I was going to die.”

I judged the drop to be maybe fifteen feet. “You know, if you just kind of hang off, you can drop on your feet, and—”

“Oh, wow, really? I never thought of that!”

Her sarcasm was positively dripping. But she was immediately sorry. “Shit. I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just nervous. It’s way easier to crawl out here than get back down.”

I studied her more closely as she glanced down and around. She was pretty enough, with fairly short brown hair that hung to her shoulders—or would if she weren’t stretched out like a big cat. I guessed she was in her late teens, about ten years younger than me. Her skin was tanned, which actually helped her look more like a lioness. Her arms blocked my side-view of her torso, but she had a slim waist, and I sure appreciated the smooth curve of her naked butt sticking straight upward.

“Finished?” she said. “Want to help me now?”

“Sorry. What can I do?”

“Um . . . well, maybe come up here and guide me back to the trunk?”

“Okay.”

I climbed up. There were plenty of places to grab on with hands and feet, and I circled the tree pretty quickly. I could see why she’d picked it. When I got to her branch, I edged out onto it and opened my mouth to speak, but my words caught for a second.

Holy hell, her naked butt was fantastic. So full and smooth. And with her thighs straddling the branch, I had a pretty intimate view. I couldn’t make out the details from here, but even just the thought of—

“Are you there yet?”

I jumped and blinked. “What? Yes, I’m here. Okay, so . . . I mean, can you not just stay lying down and crawl backwards?”

“Have you ever crawled naked across rough bark?

“No.”

“Well, I have, and it fucking hurts.”

“Okay, so get up on hands and knees then.”

“That’s the plan. I just need . . . guidance.”

Slowly, she worked her way up onto her knees. She kept her elbows firmly planted on the branch, which meant she stuck her butt high in the air almost for my benefit. Now I could see some interesting creases. Yeah, holy fuck, I could just about see her pussy.

“Just . . . just start crawling backward . . .” I said helpfully.

She tried, and she made it a few inches before her trembling became a shuddering, and she had to quickly slide back down again with a leg on either side. She winced as her thighs scraped the bark.

“Fuck! I can’t do this.”

“All right, don’t panic. What if you just sit up and—”

“No!”

This was more serious than I’d thought. “Well, then . . .”

She sighed. “All I can think is that you could maybe give me a shoulder to stand on?”

“Sure.”

I dutifully shimmied down the tree—it was really easy—and went to stand fully under her branch. Now all I could see were her hands and feet.

“Ready.”

She started to shift about. Her hands disappeared from view as she brought them up to the top, and then she kind of inched sideways, bit by bit, one foot raising up and the other swinging down—but really slowly.

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck,” she muttered. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can. You have to, otherwise I’ll have to go home and get a ladder. Just keep doing what you’re doing. But hold tight to the branch with both arms—not just your hands, but your arms. You know? Imagine you’re naked in a pool, and you swim to one side and rest your elbows on the edge of the concrete.”

“You said naked. Do I have to be naked in this swimming pool scenario?” she grumbled.

“No, but it helps me picture it better.”

One leg dangled quite a way now. “Oh my God. Am I close?”

Not really, I thought. “Nearly there. But you’re going to have to hang a bit lower. Do you think you can hang both feet off and just dangle there with your arms until you can find my shoulders?”

She moaned a lot, really terrified, even though the drop from her feet couldn’t be more than twelve or thirteen feet.

“Keep going, you’re nearly there.” I reached up and firmly grabbed her foot. “See? Don’t drop down yet, but slide a bit more . . . that’s it . . . and your other foot . . .”

At last she had both legs hanging together. She was lying across the branch on her belly, and I could see her head and hands on the other side.

“Uh, that’s great,” I said, “but don’t stop there. You’re going to have to lower yourself a bit more.”

“Just resting,” she said.

I nodded and casually paced a little bit, glancing up as I went. Her rear end was magnificent. I don’t think I’d ever seen such a smooth, tanned, perfect ass.

“Are you checking me out again?” she grumbled.

I chuckled. “No. Just assessing the situation. Now come on, you can do this.”

She started to wriggle again, and her feet lowered inch by inch. I had hold of both ankles now, guiding her down.

“How much farther?” she gasped.

“Like, six inches. Just a bit more.”

I twisted myself around to face the other way, curious to see if I could see her head and shoulders. It seemed like she had to be still hanging over too far.

When her toes finally touched my shoulders, she let out a cry and a whoop. Suddenly, all her weight was on me, and I staggered a bit, gripping her ankles. “Okay, so now—uh—well, I guess let yourself down on me?”

Shit. I was facing the wrong way. Too late now.

She lost her grip and screamed. Her feet slipped off the backs of my shoulders, and she came down hard on me, her thighs pressing against my ears. I found myself eyeballing her hairy pussy up close and personal—so close in fact that my nose was buried in her pubes.

“Whoa,” she yelled. “What the fuck? Why are you turned around that way?”

“Don’t know, but—busy here.” I staggered, fully supporting her weight now that she’d let go of the tree.

As I stumbled, she yelped and clung to my head, squeezing her thighs tighter. I could barely breathe.

“Put me down!”

All I could do was lean forward, and because she was still clamped to my head with both arms and both thighs, we toppled together, falling flat on the grass.

Somehow, my mouth was against the opening of her pussy. “Let go,” I murmured, my voice muffled.

She gasped and released her grip. “Oh my God. Are you licking my cunt?”

I got my hands under me and pushed up onto my knees. She was sitting there, leaning back on her hands, legs spread wide around me, her face a mask of astonishment.

“Uh, well, no—”

I broke off, mesmerized by her very ample bare breasts. Her nipples were pink and soft, pointing upward.

“Well?” she said, sitting up straight and clutching her breasts to cover them. She made no attempt to cover her pussy though. “Were you or not?”

“Was I . . . ? Sorry, I forgot the question.”

She rolled her eyes. “Were you licking my cunt just then?”

“Um . . . well, not on purpose.”

“It sure felt like it.”

“Can’t have. My mouth just brushed against it, that’s all. You had me in a chokehold.”

She glared at me and still didn’t put her pussy away. “I don’t believe you. It felt like you licked me.”

Surely she was teasing me. I shook my head. “I’ll prove it.”

I bent down and pressed my nose to her patch of hair and my mouth to soft opening. “Okay, so right now I’m just talking, not licking.”

She gasped.

“See? That’s me talking,” I said, my voice muffled. “My lips are just brushing against you. That’s all. No licking at all. If I was licking, it would have felt more like this . . .”

I delved in with my tongue, poking it as far as I could and working it about.

She gasped again, her body jerking.

Since she didn’t tell me to stop, I kept going, getting really sloppy with my kissing and licking. Her juices started flowing, and then things got really wet.

“Okay,” she said at last, with a tremble in her voice. “You can stop now. I believe you. You weren’t licking me at first.”

I sat up. She was back to leaning on her hands, her breasts on display. Her nipples were rock hard now—a bit like my cock, which strained at my pants. Only my cock was much bigger, of course.

“Can I kiss you?” I asked tentatively.

She raised an eyebrow. “You just did.”

“Well, can I kiss you again?”

“You want to kiss my cunt again?”

“No, somewhere else.”

She frowned, then shrugged.

Taking that as a yes, I leaned over her and bent to her breasts. I started kissing one lavishly, at first circling her nipple, then licking it gently. Then I moved to the other breast. A guy can’t just leave it at one breast. Both are equally important.

She shuddered and let out a laugh. “My God, the audacity! First you lick my cunt, then my tits . . . Next, you’ll be getting your cock out.”

“Will I?”

She shrugged. “Probably.”

Since she was looking at me so expectantly, I unbuckled my belt and unzipped my pants. I extracted my hard cock from my boxers and pushed my pants down a bit, then knelt there waiting. I’d seen all her lady parts; it was only fair she saw mine. My man parts, I mean.

She got onto her hands and knees suddenly. Leaning over me, she grasped my erection in one hand and lowered her mouth to it. But then she spoke, with her lips just touching the end of my cock.

“So this was what you were doing? Just talking?”

Her lips tickled, and it felt amazing. “Oh, fuck, yeah—just like that.”

“And talking like this,” she said, “feels a little different to, say, this?”

She closed her lips all the way around my cock. I gasped, then gasped again as her tongue flicked against me. “Oh—oh yeah, that’s like . . . totally different . . . sorry, what was the question? Never mind.”