[fM] Wild Roses pt. 8: Winter [inc]

The rosewood was still and quiet as Autumn waded her way through the deep but dwindling snows towards the house, the boar carcass slung over her shoulders. Only the stand of winter roses was still in bloom now, but the slumbering rose boughs under the blanket of white made for treacherous footing, but Autumn had walked this way a great many times before, so she had no issue finding her way safely up to the house.

As she rounded the corner she had expected to find father sitting on the porch, carving, but he was nowhere to be seen, so after hanging the carcass under the eaves of the porch roof she went inside to find him still in bed.

“Are you all right, father?” she inquired as she drew up to the bed. “It’s midday, you know.”

Only mumbled protests came from under the bedskins, so with a shrug Autumn returned outside to cut the boar and hang it for drying, before setting off to the spring at the edge of the clearing to start working the skin for leather. When she returned to the house at evenfall Gale was still abed, but Autumn thought nothing of it, and with a kiss to his warm brow she retired for the night.

The next morning she awoke to the first rays of the sun, again to find her father still abed.

“The winter is dark and long, father, I know, but you still have work to do.” she offered as she prepared a breakfast of boar bacon and wild greens. Again only muffled protests came from the bed, so with a shrug she ate, before placing a plate by the side of the bed and retiring to the room to get dressed. With one of Summer’s woollen house gowns on she went outside to gather firewood, and soon she had a fresh fire blazing in the hearth, filling the room with warmth and light.

“Are you all right, father?” she said with a smile as she sat down on the side of the bed, making note of the untouched platter of food.

“Winter…” Gale mumbled quietly, shivering slightly.

“Yes, father, it’s winter.” Autumn said with a smile. “It’s dark and cold and terrible, to be sure, but it’ll pass soon enough.”

Gale shook his head. “Winter… Winter is warm and …” he began, but trailed off, leaving Autumn with a puzzled frown.

Quietly she slipped under the bedskins with him, and felt his skin burning hot, even through the woollen gown.

“Are you all right, father?” she asked, concerned.

“Winter…” Gale mumbled, scooting up against Autumn.

“Oh”, she offered, “you mean mother?”

Gale only mumbled incoherently.

“She’s dead, father”, Autumn said with concern, “you know that…”

Suddenly a queer feeling came over Autumn, and she reached over her father’s burning hot form, her hand suddenly finding his cock.

“You miss her, don’t you?” she said softly as she began slowly stroking it.

“Let me remind you of her warmth a little.” she said as she snuggled up with him, steadily stroking him. His cock was already hard when she crawled under the covers, and hot as smouldering coals to the touch, and as she stroked it grew harder still, and Gale quivered under her touch. Gently Autumn kissed his neck, and in near an instant Gale spilled himself into the bedskins.

“Spring will be here soon.” Autumn whispered gently to him as she slipped out of the bed. “And my sisters will be home. Get better, father.”

As the winter dragged on, the days passed in much the same fashion. Autumn would tend to the chores of the house as her father lay ill and abed, and in the evenings after working the hides or gathering winter greens, Autumn would find the platters of food for her father half-eaten at best, but more often untouched. In the evenings she would creep into his bed and give him release with gentle dancing fingers, and in the mornings she would watch him for signs of improvement, but nothing seemed to come.

—-

In any other year, the snows would be meltwater by now, Summer reflected as she paced across the thin surface of the thick blanket that covered the rosewood. Beneath the soles of her feet she could feel the dreams of the slumbering rose boughs even through the white that enveloped the glade. Inside, she found Autumn sitting on the side of her father’s bed, looking worried.

“Welcome home.” Autumn said with a smile. “I like your dress.”

Summer looked down at her naked form with puzzlement. “I’m not wearing a dress.” she said with a frown.

“Exactly.” Autumn offered with a grin.

“And that’s my robe.” Summer added.

Autumn shrugged and stripped it off, revealing naked her bare flesh beneath. With a small laugh she tossed it to Summer. “Take it, then.”

Surprised by the sudden move, Summer let the robe fall to a heap at her feet. “It’s fine if you borrow it, I just wanted to point it out.”

Autumn shrugged. “If you’re going to be naked, I’d feel self-conscious wearing it in any case.”

Summer frowned. “What’s the matter with father?”

Her sister shook her head. “I don’t know. He has a fever, and he hardly eats.”

Summer padded over to the bed and put a light hand on her father’s brow.

“Winter…” he mumbled, and Summer looked over at her sister.

“Mother, I think.” Autumn explained with a shrug, and Summer nodded, trying to feel out the pain inside her father.

“He’s very ill.” she offered at length, and Autumn nodded.

“I’ll sit with him tonight.” Autumn suggested. “You can sit with him in the morning. For now, get some rest.”

Summer nodded and retired to sleep. When she awoke, she found Autumn waking as well, but she calmed her with a soft kiss. “Sleep, sweet sister. I’ll see to breakfast, and to father.” she offered, and Autumn nodded quietly and stumbled back into sleep.

In the front room, Summer prepared a breakfast of winter greens and roast forest fowl, and sat at Gale’s side, urging him to eat.

“Winter…” he mumbled.

“You miss her, don’t you?” Summer said, quietly slipping in under the bedskins to warm her father.

Suddenly a queer lust came over Summer, and gently pulling her father onto his back she slipped under the covers. In the darkness under the skins she found his cock rock hard and warm as a glowing ember, and guided by a sudden unaccountable lust she wrapped her lips around him, and bobbing gently up and down she took him all in, her tongue dancing over the tip of him when she withdrew and his head tapping the back of her throat when she plunged.

Before long he exploded in her mouth with a moan, “Winter…”

As winter dwindled, the days passed in much the same fashion. Summer would share with Autumn in the chores around the house as her father lay ill and abed, and in the mornings before her sister awoke she would prepare breakfast, warm the hearth, and give her father release with gently dancing tongue and lips, filling him with forest magic and watching for signs of improvement, but nothing seemed to come.

—-

As the snows finally began to melt, spring arrived at last, and with it, Spring arrived at last. Sword and dagger in her belt, she stepped over the waking boughs of roses as she trod through the remnants of snow on the path up to the house. Inside, she found her sisters sitting on the side of her father’s bed, looking worried.

“Welcome home.” Autumn said.

“We missed you.” Summer added with a sad smile.

Naked as the day they were born both, the two of them made Spring wonder what she’d missed.

“I like your dress.” she remarked to Summer as she sat down next to them, and with a giggle Summer gave her a light kiss on the cheek.

“Winter…” Gale mumbled.

“What’s wrong with him?” Spring asked, looking over at the half-eaten platter of food at the bedside.

“A fever.” Autumn suggested.

“A bad one.” Summer clarified.

“If he’s calling for mother it’d have to be.” Spring ventured, and her sisters both nodded solemnly.

Autumn smiled to them both. “I’ll sit with him tonight, you both get some sleep.”

Spring nodded, looking down at her father where he lay flushed and mumbling, and with Summer in tow she slipped into the bedroom and fell asleep near at once, the long road from town weighing heavily on her.

She awoke at dawn as Summer rose, but her sister stilled her with a kiss and bid her rest as she stepped into the front room.

At midday she awoke again, to find Autumn still fast asleep, and she padded out into the front room. Next to Gale’s bed, his breakfast sat near untouched, and rather than make more Spring sat down on the edge of the bed and chowed down on the still warm remains, staring into the fire crackling in the hearth.

“Winter…” Gale mumbled, and Spring smiled down to him.

“Come on, father, snap out of it.” she offered, but he only mumbled incoherently.

With the breakfast done, Spring quietly slipped in under the bedskins with him, his skin warm against hers.

“We need you too, father.” she whispered, but Gale offered nothing but mumbles and shivers.

Suddenly a queer pride came over Spring, and with a gentle shove she had her father on his back.

“The teacher you got for me taught me all manner of things, you know…” she said, as she clambered up onto him. “Mostly swordplay, to be sure, but also… other things.”

As she touched her sex to the tip of his cock she could feel him hard already, and hot as a lit cinder.

“I know I’m not mother, but perhaps, even so… n~hn…” she said, as she slowly slid down onto him with a quiet gasp.

Gently she pushed back until she could feel his thin hips against her own, before pulling back up. Slowly and calmly she continued, riding him quietly until she felt him filling her up.

“Winter…” Gale mumbled as he spilled himself within her.

“You’ll be with mother soon”, Spring said solemnly as she laid herself down next to him, her arm draped over his once-broad chest, “won’t you?”

Gale only mumbled incoherently.

As the equinox grew near, the days passed in much the same fashion. Spring would practice her sword arm morning and evening, and in the midday while Autumn slept and Summer wandered around the clearing tending to the roses, she would give her father release between her thighs feeling his terrible warmth as he filled her up and looking for signs of improvement, but nothing seemed to come.

—-

The morning after the full moon marked the equinox, Autumn and Spring awoke to a wild shout from the front room, and both dashed out to find Summer on Gale’s bed, cradling his lifeless form in her arms.

“He’s dead.” she sobbed quietly as her sisters drew up.

“Father!” Autumn cried, throwing herself headlong onto the bed.

“There’s nothing you can do, idiot.” Spring retorted sullenly, before looking over at Summer. “I thought you were some kind of wizard now?”

“I – there was nothing –” Summer began, before Autumn cut her off with a stark look up at Spring.

“Don’t take that tone with her, this isn’t her fault.” she chided her sister, and Spring sat down heavily on the side of the bed.

“I know, sis.” she said with an apologetic frown. “I know.”

Between the three of them, by midday they had managed to cut through the frozen ground below the great stand of winter roses that sprouted in the clearing, and by evenfall Gale’s body was swallowed up by the cold earth, and no sooner was the last pail of dirt in place before Summer announced the sprouting of a golden shoot in the rough ground.

“What do we do now?” Autumn asked, her voice quivering disquietly.

“What did we do yesterday?” Summer asked.

“We live.” Autumn suggested.

“That, then.” Spring offered. “Happy birthday, sis.”

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/5nlqll/fm_wild_roses_pt_8_winter_inc