Himself in the Elf

This story was written for the 2025 Literotica 750 Word Challenge, below this line are exactly 750 words:

Thomm blinked in disbelief. Could he really be so lucky?

He had set a snare for a grelwald, which would fetch a good price in the markets of Meera. But this, an Elf, could feed his family for a year.

Snaring grelwalds was dangerous, he'd almost lost an arm the last time. But an Elf would pose no danger and be more profitable. He couldn't believe he was seeing one, let alone thinking he had a chance to catch it.

Elves were very reclusive and highly sought after as concubines in the pleasure tents of Meera. Older females could fetch sums in excess of what he could hope to see in a lifetime. It was hard to tell how old this one was, as all Elfinkind appeared young by human standards, even the old ones. It was said you could guess the age of the females by the color of their nipples, but he had no idea what that meant. The youngest ever recorded was believed to be over 50 years old, and some could live to many hundreds of years.

They had exceptional hearing, and their sense of smell made him glad he was upwind. This one was looking for something, likely foraging for herbs, and getting close to his snare. All he had to do was wait... just a little more... and he sprung it. The ropes tightened and caught the Elf's foot, swinging it high in the air.

It cried out in surprise, a melodious magical sound, like a chorus of children singing. Realizing it was caught, it went limp, as Thomm crashed through the bush, eager to secure his prize. Once he had it firmly in his grasp, he found himself elated and disappointed.

Elated, because this was a female. Disappointed, because he assumed they were beautiful, but this one was thin, with a pinched face and high cheekbones. Her body was impossibly slim with a rounded posterior, nothing like a good solid village woman with her round face, full bosom, and ample thighs.

She smelled of herbs and the forest, covered with leaves and bark and bits of twig woven with what looked like spider silk. He quickly wiped away the covering, leaving her five foot frame naked. She looked almost human, but hairless and with large almond eyes and pointed ears. Her small breasts had large, dark red areolas and nipples, but he had no idea how old that made her.

He heard they could only be enjoyed within the confines of the pleasure tents, but this slight thing posed no danger to him, and he was curious what the fuss was about. He placed his hand at her sex, and she made no move to resist as his fingers felt amongst it. In fact, she opened her legs to welcome him.

He smelled herbs, and freshly plowed field, and found her moist, ready to be sown. Overcome by curiosity, he pinned her up against a tree, and lifted his tunic, exposing his manhood, which swelled with the nearness of her, and his growing desire. Her smell urged him on, and he realized why they were so highly prized.

He lifted one of her legs, bending his knees to gain purchase with which to rise up and penetrate her bright red folds. She felt exceptionally tight, and he struggled to push his rod fully into her, despite her welcoming him. She even smiled thinly as she lightly gripped his arm, as if in encouragement.

Once inside, he didn't have to thrust and withdraw as he was accustomed. Her cunt massaged him, as if fingers were stroking his manhood, and he found it was all he could to stand there, as he became dizzy and swooning. Quickly he felt his pleasure rise and overtake him and the dizziness increased as his entire body became enflamed, spasming his seed into her with violent eruptions. He had never felt such bliss and in the split second before he lost consciousness, he could hear the whispering of the trees and the song of the forest before the darkness took him.

When he awoke the Elfin girl was gone and he felt an immense sense of loss. For a moment he felt like he was an integral part of the fabric of life, and now he was just Thomm again, with mouths to feed and a wife to return to, empty handed. The only reminder of his short-lived bliss a small garland of flowers, expertly woven, encircling his cock.