This story was written as a part of the "
Tales of Leinyere
" event on Literotica, a collaborative fantasy worldbuilding event from many talented Literotica authors. Look for the event on Literotica's story page to find links to a map of Leinyere, the official timeline of all our stories, and links to all the stories in the event from all the fantastic authors who have participated. Thanks for stepping into this world with us, and happy reading!
All characters participating in sexual activities are over 18 years of age, or their own age of majority if higher.
—
Rising Heat
The Mistveil Woods were rightfully considered the territory of the Elves. They knew the ins and out of the area far better than anyone else could hope to, especially over their long lives. This is not to say that they were the only ones there. Ones and twos, there would always be people of other kinds almost anywhere. Occasionally, this also meant a pocket would crop up.
In a little-traveled corner of the Mistveil, close to the ocean, was a town. A town whose residents were quite happy to be out of everyone's way. Let kings and men vie for power, let empires rise and fall. A tiny village called Hoof's Rest just... existed. Five major lineages of Beastfolk, each a hair over a hundred strong at any given time, lived there with remarkably little in the way of problems. Sure, fights happened. The Otters made a bad joke about the Cowfolk where one could overhear, the Sheep and Wolves and Cats got snippy about diets, and some teens got into a scuffle. No biggie. They all knew, though, that they were blessed to be there. Out of the way.
It was a tradition for young adults there to go out and see what they wished of the world. Some came back wiser, or with a trade. Some brought back goods or knowledge. Some brought nothing, others a new spouse. Some never returned, their absence an occasion for sorrow. In this way did the village maintain its presence.
Life was what a richer place might call "provincial." For most, each day was a set routine. Revelations and changes were rare. Bakers baked, tailors sewed, builders built, and children came up in the traditions to take their peaceful place.
Then again, there was one other, much newer tradition. See, Beastfolk have an issue. Once a moon, their women tended to go into a vicious Heat cycle. Their brains dialed in on exactly one thing: acquiring a penis and using it until they could feel it paint their insides white. This had, of course, caused some awkwardness in the past, and overcrowding on occasion.
An outlet was needed. Thankfully, one of those rare innovations happened when a cow girl named Liza came back from a brief excursion into the world with an oddity in tow. Tall for his kind, small by comparison to most of this village. He looked human, mostly anyway, with ever so slightly pointed ears the only sign of his odder heritage. A Half-Elf, by the name of Tad. One who, upon hearing of the village and its ongoing issue, did some research, and immediately became one of the most devout worshippers of Cuvehr ever to walk the land.
—
The morning shone bright in the early Autumn, as Tad took his morning bath. What he did required a few things to be scrupulously maintained, cleanliness was one of them. He scrubbed his short, brown hair and took his time with his pale skin. Yesterday had been his day off, so today would likely be busy.
Liza entered without bothering to knock, this being the normal time of their day together. A simple shirt, open at the front but fastened closed by a belt, covered her enormous breasts. A dress was over her broad hips, as her well-muscled body moved and flexed the way it always had. These and her unusual (to Tad, anyway) spotted fur is what led them originally to hooking up as she traveled through the other Mistwood settlements. The intensity and quality of their lovemaking was one of the reasons she decided to keep him. They weren't precisely married, but nobody in town really thought of them as anything else.
As he kept scrubbing, she pulled out a well-used bucket and undid her belt, her breasts tumbling out unrestrained and huge. Her hands worked them, warming them up, then started deeply stroking them from base to tip. More than a foot of flesh loosened on each side, her nipples giving droplets of their bounty as she got started emptying the one on the right into the bucket. "Breakfast time, Tad. Drink up."
Tad was ready, having gotten himself out and dried. The second thing he had to make sure was to keep up nutrition. Especially his protein. As she worked her right breast to express milk for other purposes, he took her left into his mouth and began to drink deeply. Liza's eyes closed in near-orgasmic pleasure, this daily ritual being one of her daily highlights every morning.
"Ah, yes, get it all, Tad! Today is going to be a busy day, after all."
He came up for air, for just one moment. "Running heavy today on your side, too. You taste like almost pure cream. Um. I think I remember three?"
A third thing that was required? Willingness to run a very tight calendar. Hoof's Rest had a population of about 500 souls. About two-thirds of those were married or otherwise not needing his services, and about half of the rest were men. That still left more than eighty women dealing with unregulated heat cycles every twenty-eight days. With one day of rest each week, that meant three to four needing assistance daily.