Taipingshan’s Haunted Cypress Tree’s!

Life with Morgan was going to be perfect. Emily knew it. Her family knew it. Everybody at the wedding could see it. This would be bliss forever after. Emily had felt every reason to expect it. And quite right, too. “Morgan + Emily forever!!!“ they had scrawled, with a big heart around it. They had been sweethearts since high school. Emily could always count on Morgan. Morgan was always there. He would always be there. Morgan had never failed her.

The first ten years was amazing. It was everything they had planned. Even the big moves, as Morgan’s job took him first to New York City, then to Paris, on again to Hong Kong, and then finally to Taiwan. Even those huge life-changing events had gone so smoothly. Where bonds between other couples had suffered and sometimes failed altogether, as the stresses of moving to new places, adapting to new cultures, and having to find new lives, with new friends, became too much, Morgan and Emily had only grown closer. Their love was total and the romance never failed. Though, Morgan often had to work long hours, they made sure to get away from the city on a regular basis. Sometimes, it would be exotic and glamorous. They made sweet love on the beach in Tahiti. In Monaco, they laid there for hours, listening to the sea gently lapping against the hull of the boat as they held each other close.

In recent years, they placed even more value on the time alone together and tried to avoid too much travel. Taiwan offered plenty of solace and peace not far from Taipei the Taipingshan National Forest had become a favorite destination. At first, it was day tours. The forest was easy to reach and a wonderful break. Later, they stayed at the eco-hotels, as camping and cooking are forbidden in the official forest area but Morgan, resourceful as ever, found a ‘secret’ place just outside the official area, under the cover of a massive Cypress Tree. It was so him, this beautiful, romantic secret. Long, beautiful weekends they would spend in a tent there, with nothing but birds, trees, mist and heady forest air to deliver them to a place of lust and love.  It had become their spot of tranquility, a spot that nobody knew they had.

They especially liked it in the autumn when the Japanese Maples that grew on either side of the road leading to the entrance turned red and orange and created an other-earthly feel about them.  The forest was also famous for the many Cypress trees, some over 2000 years old and the ancient aboriginal tribes tribes of the Atayal believed that the spirits of the dead ran in the sap of these magnificent Cyress trees.  They loved to explore the elevated trails in the mist clad landscapes or visit the many waterfalls that fed the Nanoa River and Jiuliao River below. One of their favorite spots in the park after a hard days hike was the Jioujhihze Hot Springs also known as the ” Hot Spring of Beauty’ where they could relax unwind and ultimately create their own bit of Taiwan Erotic Fiction after.

It had been perfect.  A real life dream come true.

Had been!

Right up until that horrible day!!!

Morgan had always been so fit, so healthy. He was still doing the odd triathlon race. He would have done more, and he stayed in super shape, but work didn’t allow enough time to travel for more competitions, so he devoted more time to Jiu-Jitsu and MMA training.  If anything, Morgan was in even better shape than when he had led the high school football and wrestling teams. And didn’t Emily know it! After all these years, her husband could emerge from the shower and ask her for a towel, flash that beautiful smile of his, and she would go weak at the knees.

Emily had aged well, too. She was tall, thin build, narrow hips, small bust, and looked unusually young for her age. Having strong and distinctive high cheekbones, square jaw line and a long neck her stature was elegant and regal.  Her flawless pale skin accentuated her straight jet black hair and the piercing clear blue eyes made many men blush when she looked towards them. She was still a leading fitness model, and thanks to social media and YouTube, she didn’t even have to travel for work now. Just workout, snap some photos or shoot a video and BAM! — more followers. But her number-one fan, without a doubt, was her husband. Secretly, Emily was sure he always ‘forgot’ to take a towel to the shower on purpose. Not that it mattered. After all, a healthy sex life is an important part of a healthy relationship. And if these were the key measures of healthy living, Mr and Mrs Morgan Towns probably deserved a Nobel Prize in great relationships!

Deserved, that is!!

It was on that horrible day, ironically, that a Nobel Prize-winning doctor made their world fall apart.  Dr. Rowan Jones and Morgan had been buddies for years. Both keen triathletes, they often buddied up on their training. But that day, Rowan probably had to do the toughest thing he could ever have imagined in his medical career.  On that day, Dr Rowan Jones explained, fighting back tears of his own, to Mr and Mrs Morgan Towns that Morgan had cancer. Worse, it was inoperable and at best, even with his incredible fitness and the best preventative measures modern medicine could offer, Morgan probably had a maximum of three months to live.

They had tried to be strong. Emily had tried to be there for Morgan. Morgan had tried to put up a brave front for Emily. But it had been futile. They knew each other far too well and, after all, they were not gods. As awesome as Morgan had been at everything he had ever done, he finally faltered when faced with the need to accept not only that he was mortal but that no matter what he tried, no matter how hard he worked out in the gym, trained on the road, or rigorously managed in his nutrition plan, he was going to be dead at the age of 32.

For the first time ever, Morgan + Emily had started to become Morgan, Emily, and a little space. Every time Morgan had told Emily she needed to prepare for life without him, she got angry. She wasn’t going to lose him! Emily simply could not accept it. It played on her mind and hurt her heart. It was understandable, of course, but it started to deprive Morgan and Emily of time together. She felt herself pulling back, emotionally. Try as she might, Emily found herself unable to give herself totally to Morgan anymore. The stages of grief, for her, had already started before his death

 

CHAPTER TWO.

It had been a beautiful funeral. Really, it had. Well, as beautiful as a funeral, especially one this tragic, can be. Everybody had felt it was ‘just right’. The sadness among all of the guests had been almost overwhelming but Emily refused to grieve.  The only salvation, perhaps, had been the huge celebration of Morgan’s life told through his friends and work colleagues.

Emily had stood the pain for so long – even before Moran’s death. But finally, she couldn’t take it anymore. There was no reason to go home to their apartment – that now only carried memories of his last weeks dying a painful death. As far as Emily felt, if you looked up the word “empty” in the dictionary now, it said: “See the home of Mr and Mrs Morgan Towns.” So Emily did the only thing she could think to do. She ran. Fighting to see through waves of tears, Emily drove to the forest – to their ‘happy place’. She had to get away from the city, from all the ‘concerned’ friends, from all the sad phone calls. She had to get away from the haunting pain. She had to go to that one last place that was truly theirs and had not been tainted by the despicable disease that started with ‘C’.

The clearing in the forest looked just like it had the day Morgan had led her, giggling and blindfolded, from the car. For an hour, she had endured not knowing, not seeing. But now, she could smell it. The forest had its own smell but to Emily, it was one Morgan shared. Wild, powerful, intoxicating. Emily choked back tears as she set up the tent. Their tent. Their tent in their forest. It had taken a bottle and a half of wine for Emily to stop sitting there, arms wrapped around her knees, sitting under the Cypress tree crying and lamenting over the loss of her husband, her soul mate. To finally pass out in a drunken stupor. To give into the welcome embrace of alcohol – of not knowing or feeling anything if even for just a short time.

“Emily” she thought she heard! Emily knew she must be dreaming. As drunk as she still was, through the sleep, she could sense she was dreaming.

“Emily, come to me.” she heard again.

Emily felt the chill night air and, half-conscious, she dragged herself into the tent and pulled the sleeping bag around herself.

“I miss you so much, Emily.” she heard in Morgan’s voice.

Intense sadness welled up in Emily’s sleep and she cried herself awake feeling alone and sad. At first, there was nothing. Just darkness, and utter silence. “How odd…” Emily thought to herself.  There were no sounds of the night creatures that wandered around, or the sound of wind, or of the distant waterfalls.  Absolute silence and darkness.

“Emily…”  she heard again with the voice much closed.  It sounded exactly like Morgan.  With a start, Emily was very awake. This dream was too vivid.  She was scared.

“Morgan?” she called out. “Is that you?”

“Emily, come to me.” the voice said.

Emily slowly opened the flap of the tent. Her heart jumped, and then she saw him.  Morgan.  He was standing there, large as life under the Cypress Tree.  Emotions waved over her – had she the death of her husband been just a nightmare

“Oh my GOD, Morgan! I had the worst nightmare, ever! Oh my God.” you are alive.

“Oh sorry, honey. That’s terrible. Come here under the Cypress tree and let me hold you.”

Emily suddenly realized that Morgan looked pale and very unwell. He was so very pale and the black rings under his eyes and the way in which he was looking at her made her feel uneasy – these were not the eyes of her loving husband.

Without her asking the question Morgan said, “I’ve never been better, Emily. Come, here darling, quickly.” in an annoyed tome.

Emily, surprised, scolded Morgan, “Honey, I hate when you do that. Stop thinking what I’m thinking! Anyway, it must be because the clouds are covering moonlight. Things look so odd when it is this dark.”

Morgan walked towards here and swept Emily off her feet. His familiar, heady aroma, musty, wild, powerful, swept over her, filling her nostrils. She drank deeply, and felt him touch her soul. This was it!  This is where she needed to be as he placed her on the sleeping bag of the tent and began to fondle her breasts.  He slowly raised the jumper she was wearing and kissed her on her stomach, and slowly began lifting the jumper and kissing each inch of her flesh until her reached her tiny but perfectly formed breasts.  Slowly his kissed around her nipples until finally and gently sucking one and then the other in his mouth whilst his tongue danced this way and that.  She was already moaning with pleasure as he completely removed her top and began to kiss her neck and ears.  If only she had brought some of her sex toys along.

He then began to descend down her perfect and pale skin past her shoulders, breasts until he reached her fleecy pants.  Again he began to kiss around the elastic of the pants. With each kiss he drew the pants down millimeter by millimeter.  He kissed either side of Emily’s tender thighs down to her ankles and even to her toes.  She now lay before him completely naked, exposed with her womanhood before him.  She was so wet and hot down there and wanted to ride the emotions of lovemaking, to be able to release herself over him after so many months of no sex.  I lay down on the cool sheets and he pushed my legs up and went right back to work on my pussy. His tongue was so hot and eager. Jesus, where did he learn to do this?! I do not ever recall my husband Morgan doing this to me so eagerly – our sex sessions had always been gentle and soft. He licked me like a hungry vampire lapping up a the blood of his victim. He plunged his tongue inside me, deep inside me and then began sucking my clit. When the orgasm hit me, I could feel the juices flowing out of me. He lapped them up greedily. He lay on top of me and the weight of his body pressing down on mine drove me wild. I grabbed the back of his head, pulling his mouth to mine, and kissed him hard. The taste of my pussy on his lips made me hotter still. But as I kissed him and felt him on top of me, he felt cold.

I said, “Morgan, you are cold.  Are you okay?’

He again answered angrily, “I told you before I am fine.”  and with this he force ably spread my legs.   This was different, this was not the way Morgan and I made love but by now I was so hot that I needed that cock.

Morgan pulled down his pants and his erection was enormous

“Fuck me. . .” I moaned.

He pushed his hard cock into me. He put my legs over his shoulders and fucked me hard and deep. I could feel another orgasm building inside me.

“Fuck me, baby! Fuck me hard!” I moaned over and over.

“Cum for me, girl. Let me feel that tight pussy squeeze my cock. Cum for me now.” He said, still thrusting his cock deep inside me.

My orgasm hit hard. I threw my head back and closed my eyes, letting it wash over me.  When my orgasm subsided I realized he had stopped. I opened my eyes and smiled at him. He looked into my eyes, a strange expression on his face. I wondered why he’d stopped. I knew he hadn’t cum yet.

‘I want to fuck you in the ass.” he said.

This surprised me, as I had brought up the option of anal sex with him but he being a Doctor and all thought that the idea was not right.  That the human body was not engineered to have sex up the ass.  This was different – He was different!!

He rolled me over onto my stomach and rubbed my back. I pulled my knees up and spread my ass open to him. He ducked his head down and licked my pussy, then ran his tongue up and over my asshole. I shivered and felt goosebumps raise up on my arms and legs. He traced circles around it with his tongue. He reached under me and started to rub my pussy slowly. He plunged his tongue into my ass and his finger into my pussy at the same time. I gasped at the overwhelming sensations this created. He fucked my ass with his tongue and my pussy with his finger for a long time. When I was very close to cumming, he gradually slowed, then stopped, his movements. I felt the head of his rock hard cock pressing against my asshole. I began to tremble – a strangely erotic combination of fear and desire overwhelming me.

He pushed his cock into my ass so slowly. I wanted to cry out for him to shove it up my ass and fuck me hard, but I knew I couldn’t handle that. When he was completely inside me, he was still for a while, trying to give me time to adjust to the feeling. He reached under me again and slid a finger into my pussy. I groaned. He slid it in and out of me several times, very slowly. Then he pulled it out and put it to my lips. I sucked his finger into my mouth, taking in all of my sweet juice. Then he took a hold of my hips and started to fuck my ass, slow and easy. It hurt, but I couldn’t tell him to stop; I didn’t want him to stop. My mind was blank now. I couldn’t think anything. I could only feel. I was experiencing sensations that I had never felt before. I moaned and whimpered and pushed back against him, trying to get every inch of him in my ass. Gradually, he began to push his cock in harder, faster.

With a final deep thrust, I felt his hot cum shooting up my ass. That sent me over the edge. My whole body shuddered as I experienced one of the most intense orgasms imaginable.

Why? Why for so long had this not happened?!  As she collapsed into an endorphin and alcohol filled post sex trance.

When she awoke with a flood of relief, Emily suddenly remembered what had transpired that, “Oh no, that was just a dream! Silly me! Morgan and I are fine” Life was still perfect. Emily was again surrendering herself totally to Morgan’s love. His beautiful physicality but even more so he was inside her soul. She felt his love flood her body.

Suddenly, a white light exploded in Emily’s hungover head and her ears were ringing. She sat up, pulling her hands from under the covers to prop herself up on the sleeping bag holding her ears.

“What the fuck?!?”  she said.  “Morgan!” she shouted, but she was alone with the forest.

The zipper was undone. The tent was open and morning sunlight flooded in, jostled by tree branches drunkenly tossing shadows to and fro. Emily stumbled from the sleeping bag, damp and sweating. She shivered as the cold morning air found her bare, wet skin. Stepping onto the dewy floor of the clearing Emily heaved and she threw up, her lungs filling with the musty, wild scent of forest. Again, and again, she shouted Morgan’s name. There came nothing in reply. Not even an echo, the thick trees and wet forest floor taking everything from her and giving nothing in return.

Emily felt so alone. More so even than during the miserable drive up here, she thought to herself. She couldn’t help but think of those last weeks with Morgan. This… feeling him everywhere but being unable to touch him. To truly touch him. Damn this forest and damn that great Cypress Tree.

“You’re laughing at me!,” Emily screamed to the tree. “Stop it!”

Lazily, one of the great Cypress trees creaked wildly in the wind.

“STOOOOPPPP ITTTT!!!!” she screamed, “Please….”

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER THREE

The sun had long since set by the time they reached the clearing.

“Jeez, man, I TOLD you we should have left in the morning. That Friday afternoon traffic from Taiwan is always brutal!” Michael taunted, pretending to be angry.

But Ian always gave as good as he got. Letting out his trademark sarcastic sigh, he retorted, “Get off my back, bro. This is gonna be a weekend to remember! So what if we arrived a bit late. We’re here now. Crack open the beers. Let’s get this party started!”

“Dude, I can’t see anything in here. How are we gonna setup the tent? No later than 11am. That’s what we agreed,” Michael continued.

“Shut up, loser. Leave the headlights on. The tent will take two minutes. While you’re doing that, I’ll get the fire going. The sooner you stop whining like an old woman and get going, the sooner we’re kicking back with beers and dogs,”

“Yeah? Well, talking about old women, what the hell was that old Chinese lady going on about back at the gas station? Your Mandarin’s better than mine. All I got was, ‘You two better be careful. Ghostly encounter Taipingshan National Forest!’”

“Oh her? L O L, dude. Old Chinese women. They’re even worse than young Chinese women. They’ll get in your head and really fuck you up, if you believe what they say. All those old Chinese traditions and superstitions.  If you believed half of the shit they go on about there are more spirits than down at our local bar.”

The both laughed at that.

“Well, what did she say then, Mr Chinese Expert?” Michael pushed Ian.

“Oh man, some crap about this ghost up in the forest and spirits in the Cypress tree’s.  Not to go there of a night. The spirits of those that have lost in love. She’ll suck you all the way up, if you know what I mean.”

“To hell with that!” Michael spat, heaving the tent from the back of the car. “I don’t believe in any fucking ghost stories.  Lets talk about some Singapore Erotic Stories instead”

They had the tent up within five minutes and within ten they were into the first beer each from the slab they had brought with them.  They made a small open fire so as not to be found out by any of the park rangers and sat around telling stories like only two mates could.  It was near 12midnight when they both stumbled into the tent and their sleep bags.

“Dude you up?’ Ian said.  He had awoken to what sounded like the Cypress Tree they had camped near was creaking excessively.  The early silhouette of the horizon of dawn approaching could be seen.

Michael sighed. “I guess I am, now. Man, what a party.  What’s up man?”

“What party? Bro, you had, like, four beers and passed out. Must be this forest air. It does something to people.” Ian rolled slowly out of his sleeping bag.

“No man, the party in my dream. That was craaaazy man. This hot white chick was all over me. I am sure I have seen here somewhere, a model or something.  And when I say white, I mean WHITE. Must be where the Chinese get their ‘white ghost’ insult, ha ha ha.”

“Dude, what the heck? Was I talking in my sleep? Stop messing with me.” Ian, effecting mild panic, replied.

“Huh? YOU stop messing with ME! I’m serious. I had this really pornographic dream. In my dream, I had to pee, so I left the tent and went to the edge of the clearing. That’s when I saw this tent. No sooner I had I whipped out the old boy than this chick just appeared in front of the tent. Man, I just felt like she was the one, you know? I mean, don’t get me wrong, the sex was amazing but it was more than just sex. It was like she knew me. Really knew me. I think I’m in love. What the hell? How can you fall in love with someone in a dream.”

Ian wasn’t pretending to panic anymore, “Stop it, man. I know you heard me talking in my sleep. That’s the dream I had. This isn’t funny anymore, okay? just stop.”

Now Michael was starting to panic. “I’m not joking. I didn’t hear you dreaming. I’m telling you the truth. I had that dream.”

“This is crap, Michael!  How can we have the same dream” Ian was actually kind of scared and angry now. “Damnit, I need to pee. Why don’t you check the fire. We need to get the coffee on and get out of here before the park gets visitors.  You know you are not allowed to camp in the National Park.”

Ian stumbled into the cold, wet air. Blinking as he got his bearings back, he headed for the other side of the clearing, where there was some heavy overgrowth. Just before the ancient Cypress Tree.

Michael was making a desultory effort with the fire, stirring red coals with a stick.

“Yo, dude!” Ian shouted over his shoulder. “Come over here and check this out now!”

“Ha ha, very funny, Ian!” Michael replied. “I don’t need to check out you going to the bathroom, thank you very much.”

“No… man.. no. Get over here. There’s a tent back here.”

Michael stomped over from the fire, “This better be good. I didn’t see no tent last night.  You better not be jerking me off”

“Well, it was too dark,” Michael reasoned. “I could barely see our tent, forget about another one hidden in these bushes.”

“Helloooo?” Michael called out. “Hello? Anybody in there?”

Ian stopped him, “Look at it man. That tent is old. Looks like it’s been here for years. Bits of tree fell on it. There’s a tear in the side.”

Michael pushed past bushes, “Hey, something in there! It’s still not light enough grab the flashlight!”

Ian returned with the flashlight. Shining it through the hole in the tent, the light revealed the unmistakable shape of a sleeping bag and some women’s clothes, but it was still too dark. “Some woman’s been camping here and left all her gear here. Maybe we should leave now.  This is really freaking me out.”

“No way, Ian!” Michael countered. “This tents been here a while.  Maybe she’s sick. Maybe she is wounded. She could need help. Gimme the flashlight and lets take a look around”

Michael and Ian began looking around and calling out , ‘Hello.  Does anybody need any help’.  and as they approached the cypress tree they could see a shape.  A shape that looked female.  They started to run over.

“Maybe she’s unconscious?” Ian offered.

As they god closer Michael said, “Oh Fuck man, she’s not unconscious. She’s dead.”

Ian reached down and said “No man. She’s cold. OMG! OH MY GOD!!!”

“What, Michael? What???” Ian squeezed in next to Michael.

The could both see that the woman had been dead for a long time but somehow her body had been mummified and Michael said, “Man, she has been out here for ages but she is not decomposed and no animals have touched her.  This is weird shit’.

Ian struggled to speak, “Dude…. that… that’s… the woman! The woman from the dream!”

Michael was shaking, “I know. I know. She’s the woman from my dream, too!”

 

CHAPTER FOUR

Michael and Ian were not prosecuted by the authorities for trespassing in the National Forest, however they had a gag order placed on them not to discuss or publish anything about the incident – not that they ever would.  Michael and Ian identified the woman later as a model from a YouTube video from a decade before.

The experts would agree that the body in remarkable condition, especially given that the body had laid there, undisturbed, in a wet forest for so many years.

The medical coroner had believed the cause of death as suicide by cutting one’s wrist.  However the odd thing about it a cutting instrument was never found and there was no blood at the scene so it was impossible for him to say this for certain.   It was almost like the roots of the Cypress tree had sucked the last remnants of blood up.

They knew roughly when she had died because they had established the woman’s last movements before arriving at the campsite, approximately 10 years ago. Required by law to provide a cause of death on the death certificate, the coroner had written simply, “Death by Suicide.”

Oh, and that her name was Mrs Emily Towns.