It was then that the little bald man came inside. He was about 50, looked
arab and was dressed in an elegant grey suit. He spoke to the receptionist,
who nearly fell on her knees in respect. He then walked back to the door.

“What’s wrong with you, Selma?” he called. He appeared to glower at somebody.
I was observing this gentleman with no great interest and resumed reading
the ‘TIME’. Presently the scent of musk announced A Feminine Presence.
I looked up. Standing beside him was this lady, and she was looking around
the lobby. She was about 27, wearing a long skirt and and full sleeved shirt,
with a black muslin scarf around her head. Blood rushed to my groin as I saw
her and my little pecker started getting on his feet. She was about 5′9″ tall,
with fair face, straight nose and high cheekbones, cool grey eyes and jet
black hair which reached a little below her shoulders. She had heavy breasts
which jutted out through the thin material of her shirt and full rounded hips
to match. Suddenly I caught her looking at me and our eyes locked for a few
seconds. Flustered I looked down at the ‘TIME’ and pretended to read it.

That night I met her again at the party. I had put her out of my mind and
was reaching for my ninth dose of wine from the low table, kept plentifully
served.

“Hello, eyecatcher..!”, I turned around and saw her. She had changed into
jeans and a T shirt and was standing there with her hands on hips.

“I would like an orange juice, would you oblige?” she asked me. There was a
a thin smile on her lips. I gave her the glass, but refused to let go
until her fingers closed on mine. “My, my”, she said gently wrenching it
from me. We looked at each other and burst out laughing. Somebody bumped into me
spilling wine on my shirt. I looked at him in disgust. “Come on”, I smiled at
her,”the garden seems much more civilized.”

I lead her to the parks where the crowd was a bit less. “My husband has gone
for the conference, I really should’nt be here, you know”, she said. I smiled
and patted her shoulder. We talked a bit, her husband was in the arms dealing
business and making tonnes of money. He usually doesnt take her around with
him. Not unlikely, I thought, with that load of money he can screw his ass
of every night with a bevy of the most desirable girls.

As we walked our hands brushed each other. After a time we stopped pretending
and my hand was on her elbow, pulling her close to me. Soon her hips ground
against me,

“Oops !” she said, but I drew her close, pulling her face to mine.

We kissed hungrily for a few minutes, my hands running over her thighs,
cupping and kneading her buttocks. Her heavy breasts rhythmically rubbed on
my chest.

“I really must go now” she gasped breaking the kiss.

“Of course.. of course,” I said “but where to go is the problem.Yours or mine?”.

She stared at me for some time.

“Listen romeo,” she pouted, “I want no trouble, ok? He’ll be back after…..”

My lips were again on hers, and my hands cupped and caressed her delicious
globes. She responded and pressed her pubic mound on my crotch.

“Ooh” she moaned “You really want to eat me!”

I couldnt get her to my room fast enough.

He estimated her age between fourteen and fifteen years. That age
where children become just perfect for teaching the ways of the advanced
magicks he, of all the mages, understood best. Her hair hung about her
face and down her back in a black frame of soft, tight curls. He saw
beautiful, powerful slate blue eyes under that frame, and a tiny, delicate
nose hovered above an equally small and expressive mouth. “Come here,
child. Sit, over there, on that stool with the blue pillow, yes.” She
moved as he directed, and although she needed her heels on the bottom rung
of the stool, she did manage to get onto it without help. “Now then,” he
said. “Tell me your name.”

“Aimee’, sir.” She held out an envelope.

“And your master?”

“Teltirray, Darynn-sir.”

“He purchased you?” He opened the letter, which indeed carried Mage
Teltirray’s seal on it, as he listened.

The girl shook her head nervously. “No, sir. Well, yes sir. I mean
I do not know. He removed me from an orphanage seven months ago, but the
arrangement did not have the contract exchange of a slave.”

“But coin passed hand nonetheless,” Darynn said, nodding. Teltirray’s
last two students had been girls like Aimee’. They were always girls.
Darynn disliked Teltirray, partially for his tastes and partially for his
utter lack of social grace and manners. Teltirray’s last two “students”
had aparrently found the stress of living with him unbearable and committed
suicide, and he had suspected from the start that Teltirray merely drove
them to madness as a simple method of disposal. With Aimee’s appearance
and the instructions in the letter she held out to him, he felt his
suspicions were confirmed.

Darynn examined Aimee’ carefully while deep in thought about a
personal dilemma that had not existed before she had walked through the
door. He switched his vision; decades had passed since he had needed to
say anything in order to effect such change. Under his eyes, she appeared
as a conglormeration of green and blue masses, swirling lazily. “By
Sphahis!” he whispered to himself, then caught his words. This girl
radiated power, power he was very familiar with, and Teltirray’s current
plan became clear to him. Teltirray sought his skill not so that he might
train an apprentice, but an odalisque.

Darynn became convinced, and smiled to himself. Aimee’ would get the
training Teltirray sought, but he would not get just an odalisque; he would
get an houri, as well.

“So, you have come to me to learn my magicks, Aimee’?” he asked.

“Y… yes, sir. He told me you knew best the teachings in the world
about the magicks of the Satyrs and the Megass.” She fidgeted nervously in
her seat, still not daring to make eye contact with him.

He rose from his chair. The sound of his seat rocking startled her
slightly, and she looked away. He stood before her and reached out with
one hand to touch her under the chin, to reach into her. He wished her a
calmness and she received it, turning her head back towards him. “Look at
me, Aimee’. Tell me what you see.”

Her eyes looked into his and her gaze pierced him. Oh, Teltirray, he
thought as he let her in, you do like to play with fire, don’t you? “I see
a man. Young, but fully grown. Brown, your eyes, the same color as your
beard and hair. You have a handsome nose, and a wide mouth, but the lips
look thick, but not unhandsomely so. Your body, what I can see of it,
shows care, well-shaped and strong. And you possess power.”

“The last. Your opinion, or that of rumors given to you?”

“Mine,” she said firmly.

He smiled and walked back to his comfortable chair, slowly lowering a
spherical shutter over the magically glowing orb that sat on his desk.
He wanted the darkness of the room to make it seem smaller and more
intimate. He wanted her trust above everything else. “I want to tell you a
story, Aimee’, that tale I tell all my students, of my first encounter with
the Satyrs and of my learning of the ways of love, of power, and of men.
That you should hear it intrigues me, because I have never told it to a
female before. Your master tests me, and I do not like being tested. But
do not relay that message to him. You may tell him everything that
occurs… but that. Do you understand?”

“Yes… yes sir.”

“Good. Now listen closely.”

I began my life as a simple blacksmith’s son and the very idea that I
might end up a mage never crossed my mind. I knew my place in the world
and I knew that the worlds of mages lay far beyond my simple reach. Never
did the twain meet.

I had a talent for the smithy, make no mistake. I knew how to make
steel behave in manners never seen before or since, and I can still do the
same today. I still smith as a hobby. And as a way of making the tools of
my true trade, of course.

Do you know where Daber Wood lies on the map, Aimee? No? Some day I
shall pull out my maps and show it to you, once you have learned to read
the simpler ones. Yes, I intend on teaching you that as well. Suffice to
say it should take many weeks and many forged rivers to reach it walking.

My father had many customers and when I came into my own often he sent
me to see to their needs. As I approached my seventeenth birthday it
became apparent to both him and me that my talents would someday surpass
his. Customers more often requested my presence at their needs then they
did his. I must give him credit for his fortitude and his benevolence for
never once did he express greif or anger at my inborn skills, only joy and
happiness at what we both saw as my future success. He knew that someday I
would have the skills to save him in elder years. And now, although in
ways neither of us intended, I do. But we could never know what would
happen to me that summer.

Father dispatched me one morning to the house of a customer who lived
on the other side of Daber Wood. He called himself Thomas Cailleac, and to
the knowledge of our town he had come into his estate and his wealth from a
combination of family and the lucky spoils of war. He had often called me
in the past year, admitting to me once that he enjoyed my natural talents
as a worker of iron, lead, and silver.

Even starting out first thing that morn the ride to his home would
take me well into the day. It would also carry me through the thickest
heart of those Woods. The stories in town often called those woods
haunted, or worse, cursed! Men vanished in those woods, and sometimes,
late at night, the sounds of pipe and drum carried on the wind. My father
often warned me about the Daber, telling me not to ride through them after
dark. When visiting Cailleac I often rode through them in the early
evening but often managed to break through them before complete nightfall.

I reached Cailleac before high noon. As much as I could tell, Thomas
lived alone although his house could easily have hidden a dozen sleeping
chambers and staff. He extended his kindness as always, offering me bread
and beer before indicating the work he wanted done. Iron frames and lead
workings held the glass windows in his home in place but often those frames
and working needed mending. He supplied the glass panes and the lead but
he needed my skill to shape and work them properly. At least, he always
said so. But Thomas had told me once of his life as a warrior and I didn’t
think him the kind of man to disdain simple physical labor. I offered to
teach him the simple things that would make it possible for him to do most
of the mending himself.

He laughed heartily. “I like your company, Darynn. Sometimes I think
of breaking the windows myself just to have more excuses to invite you out
here. But, your words have sense. Show me.”

I taught him the basics of lead and the dangers therein. Then he
showed me an iron fence that had rotted through and the bolts that had come
loose in the last windstorm. Fixing that ruined masonry took quite a
while.

I felt his eyes upon me as I work. I make no exaggeration in that.
He wore tight pants of tanned cowhide, tall boots, the kind a soldier
should own, and a simple tunic with a slit ‘v’ at his neck that could be
drawn closed with a strap of leather. The heat of day sweated the life out
of me as I worked and he brought me water, but as he offered it to me I
could feel his eyes touch my skin where my shirt did not cover me. And his
breath, like the scent of warm horses, carried to my nostrils something
that I could not fathom.

For at that age I had known the pleasant company of women but not
their intimacies. And the intimacies of men… pfagh! All I knew of that
came from legends of evil, sickness, and death. What did my town cleric
know? Nothing!

Forgive me, Aimee. I forget that my cleric now thinks my kind of
knowledge ‘corrupt’ and evil, and I think he knows absolutely nothing. I
must remain focused in my tale.

Have you ever watched a man walk, Aimee? They all walk in almost the
same manner. All except Thomas. His boots should have leant him a
strident, powerful gait. Instead, his power seemed elsewhere, in his eyes
and his broad, massive chest. His stride came in short, careful gestures,
as if he thought about every step before making it. For a man so long a
soldier he looked uncomfortable wearing those boots.

“You could stay the night,” he offered me as I prepared my horse to
leave.

“Father will want me home.”

“Night falls already, Darynn. I fear for your safety if you walk
through those woods at this hour. It takes you four hours to reach your
home from here.”

“I only spend the first two in the forest, sir. I will have no
trouble.”

His eyes darted back and forth, and the concern in his face warmed me.
But at the same time it made me nervous; did he know something I didn’t?
His nervousness said he did. Finally, though, he nodded his head. “Take
care of yourself, Darynn. I will want to see you again.” He reached out a
hand and dropped payment in my hand. Seven silver, and
more than I had asked.

“And you, Thomas. God bless you.” I mounted my horse and rode
towards the woods even as the darkbess of night fell further.

As I rode, I realized the error of my choice. For the clouds had
covered the sky and neither moon shone through to light my way. At first I
felt confident, but fear began to push that confidence down, so I lit a
lantern.

I saw that I had strayed far from the road. I could not see it from
atop my mount. I guessed that I had ridden in a straight line since
leaving the path and that if I turned around and road straight back, I had
to reach the road again. As my horse walked, I heard thunder in the
distance. At first it came as a slow rumble, then it grew louder and
sharper and closer. Then a lightning bolt struck nearby; my hair stood on
end, my skin burned. Naturally, my horse panicked and threw me off. I
landed on the ground, cursing, and then as my horse flailed my pack of
tools feel from his back and landed very near my head. A blacksmith’s
tools weigh many pounds, and I realized that had they fallen on my head I
would surely have died.

That thought stayed in my head for a long time. The fall had stunned
me and I sat up to collect my wits. And then a young, boyish voice rang
out through the woods. “A human, fallen from his horse!”

Another voice sang, “What shall we do with him?”

And the first answered, “Why, take him, of course!” Suddenly a small
crowd of young boys appeared out of the woods. The oldest looked no more
than sixteen, and the youngest thirteen. I looked around, bewildered, as
they threw a net over my shoulders.

I sputtered and cursed as they drew the net tight. “Unhand me!” I
demanded.

“Ah, ah!” the eldest chided me. “You dared to walk through our woods
at night, and now we have you for our amusement.”

“What… what shall you do to me?”

“You’ll see. You’ll like it.” He smiled, and fear gripped my heart.
The fall had stunned me so hard that only now did I realized that none of
the boys wore any clothing. Hair covered their legs from the waists to
their ankles, and those very legs ended not in feet, but in hooves. Satyrs
had taken me. I knew the end of my life approached soon.

“I thought… I thought Satyrs only took women.”

“We take what we want,” the boy replied. “And tonight, our Master
wants you.”

“Your Master?”

“You will see.” They hoisted my net between two poles and carried me
through the woods like a stag trapped in a hunt. Which, in a way, they may
have regarded me. We approached an open circle ringed with torches, and as
we approached the winds seemed to die away. I knew that they controlled
the magics of the woods, and here I saw the evidence.

The circled grew out of the side of a hill, and set into the hill I
saw a throne, covered in shadows. A shape sat in that throne but I could
not see who– or what– owned that shape. “Master,” the eldest spoke, “We
have brought your prize.”

“Good.” I expected their master’s voice to frighten me, but instead
it did the opposite. I felt warmed by it, reassured by it. And it had a
familiar sound to it as well, as if I knew this Master. “Remove him from
the net.”

They lowered the poles and removed the net from about me. The Master
spoke again. “Strip him.”

The boyish, youthful satyrs tore my clothes from my body. I felt no
urge to fight them. Instead, I felt curiosity, wonder, reassurance, and an
uncontrollable emergence of lust. “Bring him closer.”

They did not have to lead. I walked voluntarily and he noticed this.
“You want,” their Master said. “I can see it in your eyes and the way you
hold your body. Good. You will need that. Now kneel before me.”

That I would not do. I resisted him. I wanted to have my curiosity
satisfied but not at the cost of my diginity. “Kneel,” he repeated, his
voice firm and demanding. The boys grabbed at my arms and my shoulders and
began pushing me down. And although I felt my need to resist him utterly
strong and unquestionable within me, I also felt myself sinking to my
knees. But still I looked up, holding my chin high and defying him.

I watched him stand and approach me. As his face came into the light
I recognized it and I knew his name. “Thom.” But the same hair that
covered the boys covered him, and instead of feet I saw hooves. “You… ”

“They call me the Lord of Satyrs of Daber Wood.” He smiled, his hand
reaching out to stroke my hair. His fingers touched me and I felt the
first touches of his power within me. “And they name me Thomorr. You may
call me that, my beloved Darynn.”

I cannot tell you what confusion lived in my heart, Aimee’. For I
knew they should kill me that night; few whom the Satyrs took lived to talk
and those that did kept their secrets close. But at the same time I knew
that I trusted Thom. Had always treated me well. And the lust, Oh,
Aimee’, the lust I felt I cannot describe. It took me over, it fed me and
it burned me.

His legs looked like the trunks of trees under their sheaths of thick,
curly hair. As I looked up I saw his sex, and I will tell you shamelessly
that horses are not so blessed with such enormity, nor angels with such
beauty. To measure it, I saw three hands of length to it and a thickness
that rivaled my wrists. Behind it his sac hung, full and large. Above
that a thick tangle of reddish brown hair protected his beauty from the
cold, and above that I saw his lean, broad chest and belly. He smiled, his
face calm and handsome; no woman could refuse him, as man or as beast.

His hands stroked his sex and it grew harder under his touch, although
I will not say it grew any longer. “You will take this tonight,” he said,
looking down at me. “You know how a woodsman splits wood with a wedge,
Darynn? Look at this engine, Darynn. My boys, they call this the
Boysplitter.” He caressed his manhood with a closed fist, running his
hands along the length of that unbelievable shaft, reaching the end and
seemingly twisting as he stroked. “Kiss it, Darynn. Bless this body.
Worship properly and you may learn the secret of living through the night.”

“Thom…” I gasped, my toungue thick. All I knew instructed me that
what he asked was evil, but I knew that I wanted it. I wanted him. I
wanted him to take me as he wanted to take me.

“Kiss me, Darynn. Kiss my sex. Open your mouth and receive the first
of me.”

I knelt, my face upraised, and opened my mouth. He stepped forward,
one small step, and the head of his manhood pressed against my lips. For
the first time I knew the taste of a man and I knew I would again never
find satisfaction in the arms of women only. Hear these words, Aimee’,
that our lessons forbid the taste of our own sex with good reason, for once
we have learned it we will never find satisfaction in half of mankind
alone.

His very largeness prevented me from taking all of him. I could not
fit more than the head of his sex into my mouth, but he seemed to take
pleasure from that alone. I had my eyes closed and I did learn worship at
his maleness, tasting him and sucking him. I felt the slick mass of his
sex against my tongue and the power of his maleness there. I smelled him,
his warm, loamy scent, rich and heady, washing over me with every breath.

“Good little man,” Thomorr said as his hands caressed my face. He
took his sex away from my mouth, but I wanted him back, I wanted more. I
cried out with need.

He smiled and directed his boys, “Hold him down,” and they did as they
were told. They pulled me forward and laid me across a stump that I didn’t
remember seeing when we entered the clearing. The very roots came to life
as they pressed my palms to the darkened soil and very soon those roots
fixed me into place, a part of the still-living but soon- dying stump they
had brought me to.

Thomorr covered my body with his, the enormity of his sex pressing
against my back. My fear rose and threatened to become blind, unreasoning
terror. I had not anticipated his desire to enter me, to take me. I had
thought about it only in esoteric, indistinct terms. I had not come to
grips with his wish to press his sex to my anus, to push it into me, to
fill me and to ruin me. “Thom…”

“Hush,” he whispered into my ear. “You can take this, Darynn, I
believe you can. If you do, if you learn to take my sex and to open your
body and your heart to me at the same time… if you let me become a part
of you and share your part with me, then you will survive. You have
strength within you that no one understands. You have magic, Darynn.
Believe in it.”

I did not know what to say. I trusted Thomorr but only as I knew him,
as the human Thom Cailleac. I felt fingers playing with my buttocks and
between them, caressing my anus with a warm cream. “Butter,” Thom told me.
“It will make loving you easier.”

My breathing came faster and my head grew light. I knew fear, Aimee’.
And then his legs were between mine, pushing mine apart. He gave me no
preparation, no time to relax. I felt the head of his sex slide between my
greased buttocks, finding my anus and pushing in gently. My legs trembled
and I began crying. Tears squeezed from behind my shut eyelids. I knew I
would die.

And he pressed, his strength becoming greater. And as his greased rod
penetrated me, ripped into me, I screamed. I knew he had split me. I knew
my life even then drained into him. And I felt the head of his sex
penetrate deeper. He plunged further into my guts, Aimee’, and I felt
every inch as he did.

And I heard his voice at my ear again. “You will not die, Darynn, my
sweetest boy, if you open your heart to me. Come, beloved, feel the loving
strength of my sex within you, joining us. Feel the pleasure of our
joining. Feel the heat of my body.”

And I did. I felt his chest against my back and his legs against my
buttocks. I felt the throbbing of his manhood deep within my body. And I
cried. I wept for all the things I had lost in his ravishment. But then I
felt something else come from deep within me. Maybe it came from the tip
of his sex; they seemed in the same place. And that thing reached my
throat and I felt joy within me. I began to laugh. I felt mirth and
freedom, and I heard Thom laugh along with me. And then he pulled his sex
from deep within me. I whimpered.

“You want it back?” Thomorr asked me.

“Yes!” I said. “I want it within me.”

“Then have it you shall!” he said as he pushed back into me. Then out
again. Then in. His sex rubbed at the opening of my anus and the head
rippled within my guts.

And then the pleasure took me. I cannot describe the feelings as he
raped my restrained body, Aimee’. My body trembled at the obscene invasion
of man into man, my legs shook with shock and my eyes filled with tears,
but I laughed and I blessed and I loved Thomorr as he took me with the
force only men can muster. My own sex was hard and rubbed painfully
against the wooden table he took me on. He knew he didn’t have to take
care with me and I didn’t wish him to.

His body pressed against mine like a force of nature destroying a
mountain. I fought my restraints not to get away but to get at him, to
drag him deeper into me. And as he pressed his sex deeper into me and his
chest to my back, I felt us being to merge, to breathe together. I cannot
describe it any other way. We began to fall into each other, and I felt
the meeting place of our bodies in my heart… in our hearts. It
was more than a joining, more than a mating.

He grabbed my hips and began thrusting madly. I wanted more and I
tried to tell him so but my voice would only make the sounds of animals.
His sex ravished me and my hole burned at his pounding. My chest rubbed
against the wood of the stump. My legs burned and my wrists ached from my
wish for release. I felt possessed by his enormous manhood and his
unquestionable force. He grunted with every pushing, jabbing thrust that
sent a ripple of pain and pleasure along my back, between and through our
bodies. Small gasps escaped his lips, a chant of “aye, aye, aye,” with
every thrust and when he screamed his pleasure I did too. For I felt it.
In my heart I felt the coil of his climax explode and in my body I felt the
shooting sperm of his jutting sex bathing my insides with their magical
warmth.

And then I lifted my hands. Free! They had released me! I turned,
but I did not see him. No one stood in the clearing but me, and I felt I
possessed so much strength, so much fire. The fuel of his sex burned
inside my guts and I needed to get it out. I took to my feet and I began
running, chasing something, but what I don’t know. I ran faster, harder,
and then the voices began to surround me, boy’s voices. They appeared on
my left and on my right, running with me. My feet sprouted hooves, and the
hair on my legs grew thick and entangled. And they led me now and I
followed them. We passed through the woods as so much wind and reached
another clearing, this one holding a large pool of still water. They all
leapt into the water and I leapt with them.

We laughed and we splashed and we joked in a language that I had not
known until that day. And we touched and I caressed them and they me. And
on the banks of that pool our play dissolved into a long night of play, of
men and of boys and of hands and tongues and shafts and holes. And
although I never wanted the sun to rise, I knew it must, and I knew that I
would return to the world of the living.

With this play that lasted for a night’s worth of forever I fell
asleep before the crow of the cock. In my belly and in my backside I held
the eruptions of several satyrs, and in several satyrs they held mine. And
as I curled up to lay my head on another’s leg and sleep claimed me, I
knew…

I awoke in the early morning with a start. And although startled and
long dreaming, I felt fully rested and refreshed. I didn’t want to look
under the blanket, but I knew I had to throw it aside and I did. I still
had my feet and the hair on my legs looked the same as ever. I felt fit,
although within my belly I felt warm as well.

I looked at the room and I recognized the windows. Lead, and so I
realized I had spent the night at Thom’s house. As I rubbed my head in
confusion my fingers found a bump, probably from when I had fallen from my
horse.

The door opened and Thom entered the room. “Darynn? I heard you
shout.”

“I had a dream,” I said.

He sat on the bed and smiled. “Part of a dream,” he assured me,
laying his hand on my thigh. He wore no boots this morning and I could see
his hooves clearly. “You did not dream last night.”

“But I still live.”

“You learned the secret to living,” Thomorr replied. “I need to tell
you something, Darynn. You have inside more power than I have seen in
four centuries. You have a beauty that some of the gods cannot match. And
you have a will that you can train to take advantage of both. If I needed
to describe my feelings about you, Darynn, I would say ’smitten.’”

“Last night we committed such evil. Your very existence belies that
evil.” I lied to him, Aimee’. Although my upbringing had ground those
words into my head, I did not feel them. I felt only trust and a growing
sense of love for Thomorr, the Lord of the Satyrs of Daber Wood.

“You know no such thing,” he replied. “I only think of action as
evil, not mere existance. Now I have committed what you would call evil
in the past in my search for a boy like yourself. But we Satyrs have
different rules and live by the laws of magic.”

“If I told the townspeople they would come here and they would burn
you out and they would try to kill you, Thomorr.”

He leaned back, his hands clasped about one knee. “Yes, I suppose
they would. Will you tell them, my beautiful Darynn? Or will you keep
this secret, and return to me as we both will it, and let me teach you of
magic? You have the born skill but no training. You have discipline, but
not in the right talents. Let me teach you, let me show you.”

“And the cost?”

“You lived the cost last night. You gave me everything. I would not
dare ask anything more of you but your attention, Darynn.” He looked into
my eyes and that presence of lust returned and lived again between us.
“But if you want to share my bed and my pleasure, Darynn, I will whore for
you as no woman could ever give.” He smiled as he spoke.

“Give me privacy, Thom.”

“Certainly.” He rose and left. Now alone I felt comfortable enough
to dress. I gathered my pack and left the room, walking towards the
stables, hoping to avoid Thomorr. But he had anticipated my needs and he
brought my horse to me across the stable’s open field.

Without a word I took the reins from him and I mounted the saddle.
“Darynn,” he said as I turned around to leave. His voice tugged at me, the
pain and the hope so readily near. “Will you tell them?”

I looked back on him and shook me head. “I need time to think,
Thomorr. I… so much has happened.”

“You cannot go back unchanged. I cannot undo what I have done.”

“I know. I will not tell them.”

“Darynn,” he said. “I will summon you again, if only to fix my broken
windows and mend my gates and shoe my horses. But I will not mention the
teaching of magic or the loving of men until you do. You must choose your
path, as blacksmith or as mage.” He smiled crookedly. “Goodbye, handsome
Darynn.”

I did not speak another word to him as I kicked my horse, encouraging
her out of the gates of Cailleac and now, through the Daber Wood by the
safe light of day.

Archmage Darynn leaned back in his chair. Aimee’ seemed to almost
squirm in her stool and the effect he thought quite attractive. “Aimee’?”

“Sir?”

“That ends your first lesson. Sometimes a student’s life means
sitting and listening to your teacher rattle off a boring tale.”

“Your tale did anything but bore me, sir! I thought at points I might
cry in fear or sadness or even desire in the telling!”

Darynn nodded, a smile crossing his face. “In any event, Teltirray
has heard it before. Or at least read it in the records of the Guild. I
bid you, Aimee’, take my story with you and think on it tonight.”

“I will sir. Do you dismiss me, then?”

“I bid you goodnight, Aimee’, but my students I never merely
‘dismiss.’” He grinned.

“Yes sir, I understand.” She hopped off the stool and made her way to
the door. Darynn gestured and the lock opened.

“Goodnight, Aimee’.”

“Goodnight, Sir Archamge Darynn.”

Ali was house sitting for Mr. Ross and Mrs. Tracy Jordan. It was a hot
summer night and the air conditioning was broken. The Jordans wouldn’t be
home for at least another 4 hours so Ali stripped and went to lie down in the
Jordan’s bedroom. Before long she fell asleep.
The Jordans returned and found the sleeping beauty on their bed. She was
still asleep, snoring softly, but her hand was rhythmically squeezing one of
her lucious tits. The Jordans who were in their late 20’s were uncertain how
to proceed with this gorgious 18 year old. Tracy Jordan took the initiative,
dropping to her knees between Ali’s outstretched, widespread legs.
“You really are right, Ross,” Tracy said, hunching down to berry her face
in Ali’s still dripping cunt. “The girl does have one of the prettiest little
pussies I’ve ever seen. Look at it, just like an opening rosebud.”
Before Ross could inspect Ali’s cunt more closely, his wife blocked his
view and started to lick up the cream oozing from the girl’s fuck-tunnel. As
Tracy lapped, more cream came out. The woman plunged her long, slender, hard
tongue between the girl’s now swelling pussy lips, then worked it in as deep
as it would reach, while at the same time muzzling Ali’s stiffening little
clit with her nose.
The girl didn’t wake up, but there were signs that she knew, at least
subconsciously, that something was happening to her. Her hand tightened its
grip on her tit and began to pulse faster. She started to squirm a little bit
and a thin sheen of sweat broke out on her skin.
Mrs. Jordan resisted tonguing Ali to climax. Her intention was to get
the girl ready and eager for her husband to fuck.
“Okay, Ross, she’s creaming to beat hell, she’s more than ready.”
Tracy Jordan had a fantastic figure. Although she was only an inch or
two over five feet tall, her shapely legs looked much longer than they were,
and her tiny waist emphasized the womanly swell of her hips and the jutting
thrust of her big, round, still-firm tits. Her large areolas were a deep
pink, almost purple, and her nipples were as big and round as ripe cherries.
Her dark hair and complexion gave her an exotic, almost Indian look that was
incredibly sexy.
Ross Jordan was doubly excited. The sight of his goreous wife and the
young beauty in front of him turned him on more than he had been turned on in
a long time. His cock was now almost painfully hard and he was sure it was at
least an inch longer and bigger around than it had ever been. At least that’s
how it felt. And his balls were loaded to the bursting point. One thing Ross
had long been noted for, one of the things that decided Tracy to marry him in
the first place, was his endurance. He had been known to fuck for more than
an hour without shooting. He had tremendous control.
As excited as Ross was, he made his move slowly, deliberately, prolonging
the pleasure of anticipation for himself, and hopefully for Ali as well. He
did not want to either frighten or startle her. He was as interested in a
good fuck for her as he was for himself.
Ross hently fingered the seeping girl’s pretty little pink pussy. It was
soaking with her cream. He smiled to himself and got down on his hands and
knees over Ali’s beautiful body. Still denying himself the ultimate pleasure
of sinking his throbbing cock into her tight young cunt, he bent his head down
to lick her long-stretched, steely-hard nipples.
Ali exhaled a giggling sigh. She had been dreaming, dreaming that her
Prince Charming in the shape of Mr. Jordan was about to give her her very
first real fuck. Slowly, she opened her eyes and found herself looking
directly into Ross Jordan’s eyes. It took a moment before she realized she
was no longer asleep and dreaming. Then a wide grin split her face
practically from ear to ear.
“At last!” Ali murmured. “I’ve dreamed about you doing this to me for a
long time, and now it’s reall going to happen!”
Ali closed her eyes again, but raised her arms and wrapped them around
Ross, giving him a powerful young hug that crushed her jutting tits flat
against his chest.
Ross smiled at his wife, who was looking at him with what looked to be a
mixture of pleasure and envy.
“I guess we didn’t have to worry about how she’d feel,” Ross said.
Ali released her stranglehold on Ross and sank back down on the bed, her
eyes still closed. She stretched her arms down to her groin, rubbed a finger
along the oozing slit of her cunt, while tickling her hard clit with her
thumb, and then ran her other hand down Ross’ tight belly, into his thick
pubic hair, and then to his rock-hard prick. Her fingers wrapped around his
rigid cock and she began to slowly massage it.
“Christ, girl, stop it,” Ross complained. “I want us both to enjoy this
with me inside you, not shooting all over your lovely belly.”
“Okay, then, but do it!” Ali insisted.
Ross permitted the girl to draw the head of his riged cock towards her
slippery fuck-slot. Ali may have been inexperienced, but her instincts were
right. When his sleek purple cock-knob nudged into her lust-swollen cunt
lips, she slithered the cockhead up and down her cream-soaked pussy-slit,
savoring the sensuaous feeling it gave her, delaying, raising her desire to an
ever higher pitch before she urged Ross to sink his cock into her.
Rather than abruptly plunge his straining hard-on into Ali’s eager cunt,
Ross Jordan let only his prickhead slip betwen her cream-dripping cunt lips,
then he slowly moved his hips back and forth, gently working his throbbing
prick-knob in and out of her slipery, hot fuck-hole. This
erotic teasing made Ali cry out for more. Instinctively, she raised her legs
and locked her kees at Ross’ waist. When that did nothing to fill her
grasping, starving cunt, she wrapped her legs around his ass and squeezed,
trying to force the rest of his cock into her.
Ali was at lest partially successful. Ross did his best to prevent her
from ramming her cunt into his hips, taking the whole length of his cock at
one stroke, but he couldn’t keep up the teasing, slow-fuck action he’d been
trying for. Her hip movement and the strength of her legs forced well over
half of his riged prick into her steaming fuck-tunnel.
There was a reason why his cock didn’t sink all the way in. It had hit
an obstacle. Despite her athletic activities, Ali still had her maiden-head!
Frustrated at not having succeeded in getting Mr. Jordan’s cock all the way
in, Ali redoubled her efforts, banging on his ass with her heel, bucking her
hips up powerfully toward his. Tis time, it worked. Ali screamed as a
sudden, tearing pain pierced her where the ramrod cock forced its way through
her cherry. Then the pain stopped, his cock slid easily the rest of the way
into her tight, no-longer-virgin cunt.
“Jesus Christ, Ali! Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?” Ross
asked.
“Because,” Ali panted, ” I was afraid you might not fuck me if I told
you.”
“Did I hurt you badly?”
“There was just that one, sharp pain, Mr. Jordan. It feels really good,
now.”
It had been a long time since Ross had had a virgin, and he’d never
fucked one who seeemed so eager and was so lovely. Ali’s tight cunt was
gripping his cock, making it feel harder than ever, wearing away his wish to
make the fuck last. With the young girl’s firm, strong muscles fucking her
hips up at his, her cunt grasping his cock in a solid grip, and the intensity
of her desire and lust, Riss didn’t know how long he could hold out before
shooting his hot, gooey cum deep into Ali’s guts.
Ali wanted it, she wanted it to happen and happen soon. She didn’t know
how long she could take the tension, the torture of being so near to a massive
orgasm. She could feel the big shaft and head of Ross’ cock pistoning up and
down in her slippery, hot lust-juicing cunt. The sensation of Ross’ powerful
fuck-post slamming into her belly, filling her with a rising tide of
increasing desire was making her all hot and squirmy deep inside. Now, with
Mr. Jordan’s cock ramming into her, burying itself to the hilt in her
cream-soaked pussy, stretching her cunt lips, massaging her hard little joy
button of a clit, Ali felt the first quivers, the very beginnings of her first
fucking orgasm.
It started slowly, gently, with just a few little shivers of delight.
Then they grew strong, deep ticklings which made her shake a little bit
harder. His pistoning cock kept on driving in and out of her cream-steamed
cunt,
withdrawing until only the itp of the purple prickhead reamined inside her
slick cunt lips, then plunging down and down until the whole hard cock-shaft
was buried in her, right to the very roots.
Ali’s shivers increased and grew deeper. Little electric thrills started
to radiate out from her taut little nipples. Tiny lightning bolts of desire
shot out from her clit. With each stroke of Ross’ pumping cock, the depth of
Ali’s reactions increased. She started to arch her back, thrusting her hips
up harder, jamming them ito Ross’ groin, forcing the last absolute fraction of
an inch of his stiff prick inside her hungry, grasping, sucking cunt.
The girl was panting like a steam engine, sweat had broken out all over
her sleek, shapely torso. A furious red flush spread all over her skin as the
strenth of her climaxes grew. Little squeaky gasps came from her mouth with
each panting breath. Never before had she imagined such feelings. She hadn’t
even dreamed that anything could feel so good! The pounding of Mr. Jordan’s
rock-hard cock in and out of her hot cunt was making her tremble all over with
ecstasy.
Ross could hold back no longer.
“Jesus Christ, I’m cojming, Ali!” he grunted. “I’m coming, now!”
The girl didn’t answer, she just squealed out loud with joy as she felt
his cock harden even more, then a pumping wave move up it from base to sleek
purple cock-tip. Suddenly she felt something spurt out, splattering to the
very deepest end of her straining fuck-tunnel.
When Ross’ cum jetted into Ali, it triggered a massive eruption in the
girl. She screamed as her hips rammed into his. Her legs clenched on his
ass, forcing his entire prick deep between her cunt ips. An earthquake of an
orgasm rocketed through her body, setting her clit and her nipples on fire
with lustful joy, sending erotic heat waves sparking all over her body, down
the insides of her thighs, sendng the blood in a roaring rush through her
overloaded brain.
Every muscle in Ali’s body clenched and released, clenched and released,
as the ecxtatic waves of desire pulsated through her. She screamed again as
one final, gigantic spasm rocked her, shaking her like a dog with a rag and
then left her limp. She relaxed. Everything relaxed. Her legs stopped
gripping Ross Jordan and slipped off of his ass and hips. Her eyelids closed.
Her breathing diminished to irregualr, gasping groans. The twitching in her
muscles came to a halt.
“Aaahhhhh!” Ali moaned. “Now I finally know what all the fuss is about!
Wow! Until it actually happended to me, I wouldn’t, I couldn’t have believed
anything could be so wonderful!”