The Goblins Vessel Zaarahs Gift

The tilled earth of the field was cool to Dane's touch as he ran his large calloused hands through it, letting it run through his fingers. He paused for a moment and breathed deeply, enjoying the warm, moist smell of the air contrasting with the still-cool soil below. He smiled.

With a satisfied grunt, he pulled himself to his feet. He thrust his hand into the burlap sack at his feet. Gripping hard, he pulled out a handful of the oats and let them patter softly to the wet earth. These oats would be the start of a year of hard work, but would yield more than enough grain to keep his farm running for the year. He moved through the row, scattering handful by handful onto the land. In almost no time, the first of the fields was sown.

Dane wiped the sweat from his brow, and lifted the remaining 3 bags of oats onto one shoulder. As he moved to the second field, he looked at the ground. It was unbroken, with the plow sitting to the side. The oxen was...missing. Dane brow furrowed for a moment, then relaxed as his face fell. The oxen had been slaughtered in the last goblin incursion. Dane gritted his teeth, the loyal beast's last low still echoing in his head. A flash of the scene rushed to his senses, the slick wetness of the dying beast punctuated with the flashes of burning red eyes. Dane shook his head, trying to leave the memory behind to address the problem. Well, the answer was simple, if not exhausting.

Dane would have to push the plow himself to till the field.

He steeled his resolve, and placed his strong hands on the stilt, aligning the moldboard with the land and placing the share into the ground. He braced his legs, feeling the corded muscles strain as he pushed the plow to no avail. Dane growled softly. This field was fallow; It would just take a bit more leverage to cut into the grasses and turn the soil. He adjusted his balance and reset his grip again, driving his boots into the earth. Dane strained, breathing heavily. The first turn was always the hardest. Just, needed to find the right angle. Snorting, he pushed again. The wet ground under his feet gave more way than the stubborn plow.

A warm, damp breeze started to come in from the west, carrying a thick, musky scent. Dane's nostrils flared as he breathed heavily from the exertion. Sweat ran down the stubble of his cheek and jaw. The aroma on the air was heady and almost sweet, blending perfectly with the soil of his farm. Distracted, Dane's hand slipped and he fell to his knees.

A whisper came from next to his face. "Harder than it should be. Right?"

Dane rolled away from the sound, bringing his heavy fists to bear as he made it to his feet. His eyes darted back and forth, looking for the source of the whisper and finding...nothing. The nape of Dane's neck bristled, the dirty blond hair almost standing on end. Dane's breath quickened as the sweet, musky odor assailed his senses again. A small hand caressed his left ear before tweaking the lobe playfully.

The soft voice came again, this time sultry and more feminine. "It's so...difficult to make progress without help.", the voice purred, almost a low moan.

Dane jumped again, whirling to his left as his eyes found the dark forest to the west of his farm. He saw the wooden fence and posts that separated his land from the wild. But, nothing else. Dane shook his clouded head but the heady perfume started to permeate his mind and dull his other senses. "What do you want?!?" Dane near screamed, trying to wrest some kind of control from the haze he was in. His body trembled, the muscles in his legs and arms refusing to fully cooperate.

"Calm yourself, human; I want to help you. Let's start by parting the soil in your fallow."

Dane gasped as he felt two hands slide down the taut muscles of his shoulders and back before resting at his hips. He felt the hands firmly grip his buttocks before a gentle slap pushed him forward. "Go to your plow again, and start to cleave the soil."

Dane's eyes briefly focused, regaining a little composure "It won't change."

The voice sighed impatiently, as the hands urged him forward. "It will need my guidance to make a real difference. But..." Dane felt the hands embrace his chest. He gasped as nails grazed his chest. Dane could feel a blush creeping up his neck as his nipples hardened. "You will need to push to get everything started.", the voice moaned suggestively. The soft, feminine fingers traced lazy circles, moving lower.

"What...will...you...do?" the woman's voice teased.

Dane could feel himself losing control as a heavy warmth started to build in his belly. His skin twitched, and a shuddering groan escaped his parted lips. He staggered forward, finding his footing at the oxenless plow once again. As he started to brace himself for the first till, he felt the slender fingers and hands draw through his torso. The unbidden thrill only served to stir his loins further. A pair of warm palms were laid at the small of his back, and he could feel the strong, feminine fingers splay out. He strained, the muscles in his thighs growing thick and rigid, his neck cording. Suddenly, he felt the entire plow jerk forward as an intense ripping sound issued from near the share. He smiled as the familiar sound of roots tore through the air, and the first piece of sod flopped down.

Dane shuddered as he felt the pair of hands enter his body again, A pillowy soft and resilient presence pressed into his back. He could feel his flush rising as he felt a pair of erect nubs dug beneath his shoulder blades and an intense heat pulsing, radiating near the small of his back.

The voice brushed past his right ear, chuckling. "I guess I'm less experienced than you with farming and...plowing." Dane felt the voice sigh, husky with need. He winced sharply as he felt a set of teeth bite into the upper ridge of his ear playfully, drawing no blood. Dane felt a guttural moan drawn from his lungs as he felt the hands reach lower, thin pointed nails dragging across the blond curls over his pubis, seeking lower and lower. Dane could almost hear her biting her own lower lip as the timbre of her voice became warmer, more commanding and unmistakably feminine.

Dane's eyes widened in disbelief, moaning in relief as he felt those familiar hands wrap around his erect, turgid member. He felt a thumb caress over the thick knob at the tip of his shaft before she gripped his length firmly, sliding the skin backwards.

"More, human. Meet my rhythm, and ready your field for harvest."

Dane braced himself and pushed forward again, easier and steadier this time. As her warm caress moved forward, he felt his hips buck uncontrollably forward as he pushed again. More and more of the grass parted as he moved through the field, As the potent young man thrust the plow forward, he could feel the air warm around him, the musky sweet tumult of earth and her scent filling his lungs. He heard a rustle as thin, green stalks of oats, wild and domestic, parted the loam of the plowed earth behind him. Almost as if time were pacing her ministrations on his manhood, the plants grew in spurts, the delicate leaves curling in natural ecstasy.

Dane looked shocked as the first half of his field was already tilled, the oats grasping ever upward towards the now summer sun. He groaned, pained, as he could feel his orgasm mounting, drawing uncontrollably close. He thrust unevenly into the field, barely able to control his pleasure. "No, Da..." Her voice grew stern, as she could feel him pumping spasmodically in her hands. She squeezed tight with both hands as a third hand gripped his thigh. She smiled as the name flowed into her. "Dane. We are not done yet." Dane gasped as his culmination halted, the third hand meeting the feeling of a fourth hand holding his hips steady.

A smile was stolen from Dane's shocked expression as he felt his body teetering at the edge of ecstasy. "How...how are you doing this?", his normally deep voice climbing higher with need. He felt the new pair of hands guide his hips forward, gripping tightly at his sides. Dane fell back into the primal rhythm, splitting the land with each thrust. He felt himself mounting ever higher, the intense pleasure seemingly without end. He sweated profusely as he saw a pair of deep, fierce, honey-amber eyes peering into his own. He blushed as he saw in their depths an intensity of need he could not fathom.

"Dane...", the voice chided. He could feel the hands on his staff move with supernatural grace and experience; he might have fallen to his knees if her palms weren't bracing his hips ever forward. He pushed forward, almost a puppet to her will. The plants behind him grew further, fruiting into thick, golden seed heads. The grain of his near-complete field blossomed to a sun-kissed tawny yellow-brown. As Dane's voice climbed higher with desire, he heard her let a low, wanton moan that rumbled across the honeyed plain as the liquid heat behind him nigh burned into his back. The earth vibrated under his feet as the oats surrounding him rushed towards the sky. Dane found himself pushed onto the earth under the bower of grain, and could feel a pair of small strong arms pinning his veined forearms to the loam. The caramel eyes bore into him, and Dane drank in an exquisitely beautiful face tinged with green; heart-shaped and sage. Perfect, pointed teeth bit into heavy, full lips as chestnut hair draped over his face, creating a halo behind her. Dane craned his neck to look lower, but her eyes locked him in place.

"Be here. With me, Dane."

Dane gasped as he felt his engorged, twitching member being guided towards her heat. Dane and the verdant-skinned goddess groaned together, their eyes rolling backwards as Dane's turgid rod sank into her volcanic depths, He whimpered as he felt her hips pull away, only to feel himself sink to the hilt, his hips slamming into the ground. She smiled, as she adjusted the rhythm. She savored in his sound, the longing in his voice as she rocked her hips away, and the contented shock as she impaled herself upon his shaft, filled to near bursting. Dane felt the woman pull his hands to rest at her wide, full hips as she continued to grind on top of him. The woman cupped her silken hands over Dane's now smaller ones as their pace quickened together, finally in sync. Dane breathed in her musk as he felt his pleasure doubling over and over towards climax. "Who...are...you?"

Dane felt the woman convulse, her silken vise soaking his hips, gripping him impossibly. As her face was smiling, drinking in the feeling of her culmination, she looked again at Dane, her honeyed eyes lit from behind. Dane felt his hips thrusting upwards over and over again, maddeningly as she brought both of his hands to rest at her face. Dane looked at the cherubic face smiling at him, his own more delicate olive-tinged hands framing her liquid amber eyes. He heard his own now-high voice echo in his head as he fell over the precipice.

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Dane awoke, gasping as the winter air filled his lungs and the sharp, now pungent smell of his bedding brought him crashing back to reality