Troll Bridge

Ever since I can remember, my life has been filled with wonderful and fantastic happenings. Pay attention to the roots of those words, mind you: “wonder” and “fantasy.” I blame my mom, really.

She named me Briar Rose. Briar frickin’ Rose, people! I’m a fairy tale princess! She named me after Sleeping Beauty. Obviously no one ever told Mom that names are dangerous and that they have the power to completely fuck up your life.

Want an example? Try this. There were pixies in the flower garden. I saw my first unicorn when I was 3. When I was 15, a bunch of elves tried to lure me away to Fairyland. I’ve seen werewolves, vampires, and demons, and I think I’ve even spotted an angel or two in my life.

So you can understand why I wasn’t all that surprised about getting grabbed in the park. There’s this little wooden bridge back in the trees that crosses a stream, and I’ve never had a problem with it before. But then, I’ve never crossed it at night, by myself, trying to take a shortcut to the bar a couple of blocks away, either.

Something reached up its hands--either of which were big enough to palm my face--and grabbed me around the waist, yanking me off and under the bridge. And although I was shocked from the suddenness of it all, I wasn’t actually surprised to find myself face-to-face with a troll.

I was pretty sure it was a troll. It was really tall and big, its hands overlapping each other from the way it was holding me, and it was wearing like some sort of dirty tunic thing with laces at the throat and a pair of ragged baggy breeches. It had long, snarled hair that completely obscured his face so that all I could see was a really long hooked nose and a mouth with some really massive bottom fangs that curled up over his upper lip. He also had horns--curly ones. Yeah, what with him being under a bridge and all, I was guessing troll.

“Oh great,” I said, folding my arms and rolling my eyes. “A troll bridge. Lovely. Thanks, Mom.”

He seemed a bit disconcerted by my lack of fear and gave me a good shake. “Ha! Got you, girlie. I heard ya trip-trappin’ over my bridge, and now I gots ya. And now I’m gonna

eat

ya!”

I blinked, thinking fast. Okay, trolls aren’t really known for utilizing their brain power. Chances were, I could talk my way out of this…but sacrifices were going to have to be made. Oh ick.

“Wait wait wait,” I said, raising one hand and getting his attention. “What do you mean, ‘eat me’? You mean like ‘eat me’ as in eat me with fava beans and a nice Chianti, or ‘eat me’ as in eat me out?”

“Uh…huh?”

“You know, eat me out? Your head between my legs and your tongue heavily involved with my pussy?”

He blinked, but I could practically see the light bulb pinging into existence over his tangled mane of hair. “Er…uhh…well, that twasn’t

quite

what I meant, but uh…”

By this point I’d already drawn up my legs and had my hands under my skirt, working my panties down. Subtlety is lost on these guys, you know? He was blinking rapidly, watching the descent of the thong, and then he fixed hungrily on the space between my thighs. I put my feet on his chest and walked myself up until I could hook myself over his shoulders and pull myself closer.

He got the hint pretty fast and lifted me higher into the air, sticking his face between my legs. I thought the fangs would be a problem, but he didn’t seem interested in using his mouth so much as using his tongue. It was dark under that bridge, but some trick of what little light there let me catch a glimpse of it as he moved his head. And I

had

to look, believe me, because seeing is believing, and otherwise I just couldn’t have believed that tongue was as thick and wide as it felt.

Troll boy had an incredible tongue. It was rough with larger taste buds than a human‘s, and it scraped across my clit in such a way that my toes were curling hard enough to snap. He lapped between my folds in long, drawn out licks, and the sound of it was starting to turn me on.

Oh good grief. I was urging a troll towards sex to save my life, not to get off! Bad hormones, bad! Bad, wicked, naughty Briar Rose! Quit squeezing his head with your thighs! Hey! Quit wiggling against his tongue like that! Stop--oooo!

I melted in his hands when he pushed that long, thick tongue inside of me, groaning as it curled and twisted. I was getting really wet, and he must have liked the taste of human girl because that tongue kept curling in and out of me, reaching in as deep as it could for every taste of me it could get.

I let go of his arms, which I’d been clinging to for support, and reached under the tight knit top. Thank goodness my bra was a front snap. I popped that sucker open and grabbed my breasts, clutching them tightly as I pushed against his shoulders. His hands were keeping me firmly in place against his face, so I didn’t have to worry about pushing away from that sweet tongue action.

My body was tight as a bowstring, my breath was coming in hard little pants, and I could feel the blush of orgasm across my cheeks, forehead and scalp. The tingles were starting to spread across my chest and stomach and oh hell, I was going to come on troll boy’s mouth. This was going to

completely

give him the wrong idea.

Then the tip of his tongue hit my clit in just the right way, and I

screamed

as I came. I rode against his tongue and teeth as the orgasm took me, unaware of how hard I was squeezing his head. Mom made me take ballet lessons as a kid, and I still do it for two or three hours a day as exercise, so I have some really major leg muscles going on. Good thing he appeared to be as thick-skulled as the fairy tales made trolls out to be, otherwise I might have worried about fracturing his head.

As soon as I relaxed, he pulled me away and tried to set me on my feet, but my legs were just too shaky. I sank down to my knees and tried not to notice how wet my thighs were or that my top was pulled up over my breasts. My skirt was also more of a belt at the moment. Gotta love lycra--it’s so versatile.

Holy shit, I hadn’t had oral that good since that incubus back in college. I fell back against the damp dirt of the stream’s bank and smiled, basking in afterglow and completely forgetting about the troll. Well, I managed to forget for about one minute. It’s just that the fact of a troll being nearby isn’t easily forgotten, no matter how well he just ate you out.

I opened one eye to find him trying to adjust his breeches, which were a little strained at the moment. Okay, they were a lot strained. That was a pretty impressive outline I was seeing, and troll or not, I’ve got this thing about guys. If they do really good by me, then I always feel I should return the favor.

Oh no

, my tiny inner Briar Rose screamed.

No, girlfriend! You are

not

thinking about giving troll boy head!

Oh yeah? I shot back, rolling up onto my knees and reaching for the drawstrings at his waist.

Wanna sit back and watch me?

It’s a troll!

Yep.I undid the knot and pulled the pants downward, grinning at the cock that sprang up to greet me.

And a big one at that. Come on, look at him! Are we gonna pass this up to go to the bar and pick up some pencil-dick?

Oh dear,said the inner Rose.

Umm…okay, maybe just a little then.

He was a big troll, and everything appeared to be in proportion. Wow. I reached up and ran a hand up the length of him, encircling him between thumb and index. They didn’t meet. I’d never seen anything like it. I just had to sit there on my knees and stroke him for awhile, marveling at it.

He was making pleased little grunts above me, hips thrusting his cock against my hands as they played with him. I stroked down to the root, sliding my hands under the impressive set of balls and cupping them as I leaned forward and licked him in a hard line up his shaft.

There’s a real feeling of power in making a troll bark in surprise.

I ran my tongue along the slit, one hand sliding up to circle the base of him as best I could. But so far I’d risen up on the balls of my feet in order to reach him, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to hold the position long.

“Hey,” I said, getting his attention, “you’re too damn tall. You’re gonna have to come down here.”

“…huh?”

“Sit?”

“Oh. Uh. Yuh.” He plopped down on his ass--probably a little faster than he meant to as the pants around his knees tripped him up. I giggled and stripped him of the offending breeches, then settled between his legs to really play. He was grinning under all that hair…or at least I think it was a grin. The fangs made it hard to tell. And I could still feel the confusion radiating off him in waves. But that’s understandable, right? He’d been all set to grab dinner, and had ended up grabbing a chick who had the tip of his cock in her mouth, tonguing it.

My hand was fisted at his base as well as it could, and I licked, teased, sucked and squeezed until he was shaking with the need for release. I nipped with my lips down his length of him, tongue finding the soft skin of his balls and tracing the lines and curves of him. I found the spot just behind them--that silky, sensitive spot that a few feathery touches applied just right would make a man writhe.

Makes a troll writhe, too. I listened to him cry and yell in trollish, not understanding the words but getting the sentiment behind them. If he was like most males, then he was probably swearing and calling out the name of whichever deity he believed in.

“Enough!”

One of those big hands fisted in my hair, yanking me away from his cock. I’d really been having fun with it too. What can I say? I’m one of those females that just adores a penis. They’re just so much fun. But troll boy was breathing hard, and his hair had fallen in such a way that I could finally see a glint of eyes…which were hard and focused. He sat up, reaching down to put those big hands around my waist and lifted me straight up.

I squeaked and clamped my hands on his shoulders, looking for balance as he wiggled me until I straddled his waist with my legs. I figured I’d succeeded in getting his attention away from killing me, but it was starting to dawn on me again that…this was a troll. This was a

troll

and his cock was pressing against me, and his hands were on my hips pushing me onto him, and he was very big and while I wasn’t exactly unused to a big dick, this was way bigger than anything I’d attempted to fuck before. My teeth clamped on my lower lip hard enough to draw blood as he worked to get inside me.

But I was wet from my earlier orgasm, and he was slick from my mouth, both of which helped enormously. He gripped my hips and pulled me up and then down, inching deeper inside of me with every stroke until he was in as far as my body could take him. And now that he was in, he started to really move. My nails dug into his shirt as he worked in and out, his thrusts easier now that I was stretched for him. I cried out as he grew a little cruel, his movements sharp and hard as he guided my body. I pressed forward, wrapping my arms over his shoulder and burying my face in his neck. It was…too much--the feelings were too intense and it hurt but it didn’t and oh it was good and oh it was painful and now I’d found the line between the pain and the pleasure and it was

incredible.

One hand dropped away to press against the ground, and he wrapped his arm around my waist to make up for its lack. He braced his feet and began to thrust upwards, not content to simply move me anymore but wanting to fuck me under his own power. I panted and cried out against his shoulder, not caring one bit

what

he was anymore because I could feel it building again. Oh God, I was coming again, my body almost going numb as if all power in my nerve endings was being diverted to my lower body.

This time it hit me so hard that no sound made it past my throat. My body seized tight, my muscles trying to clamp down on him--but there was no slack and that just made it even better. He was still trying to move, but I held him too tight, squeezing him until I felt him shudder under me. I was too busy trying to remember how to see and breathe, still dull-witted from my senses getting blown from one end of the universe to the other, and I didn’t heed the warning of it.

He was big, and he was strong, and he nearly killed me when he came. The arm around my waist pinned me to his chest, growing tighter and tighter until I was sure either my ribs would snap or I’d suffocate, and his hips snapped against mine as he tried to go deeper than I could accommodate. But then his arm gave out and he fell back, and I sprawled across his chest. He was still twitching a little, still riding the aftershocks, but at least he wasn’t trying to punch through to the other side anymore.

Ow. I winced and slowly pulled off of him, collapsing to his left and trying to ignore the twinges of forming bruises. Ohh, I was going to pay for this tomorrow--but hell, at least I’d be alive to pay.

“Ohhh, sweetheart,” Troll Boy moaned, running one hand over his head. “I ain’t been with a female in…a whole lotta years.”

“A whole lotta years?” I echoed, suddenly exhausted to the core. Damn, I didn’t know how I going to get home…provided he didn’t decide to kill and eat me after all.

“Least a hunnerd,” he said. “No troll wimmen around. Human wimmen ain’t no fun. They jus scream a lot. Can‘t think o‘the last time a female had ‘er mouth on me.”

His hand movements had pushed his hair away from his face, and I looked at him, considering. He wasn’t exactly ugly, but that hair and those lower jaw fangs made him look worse than he was.

“I bet you’ve stolen a lot of money over the years, haven’t you?” I asked, glancing around for my underwear. “I mean, every troll hoards what he takes off his meals. Probably got a stash of gold and silver coins around that’s worth even more than its metal for their collectibility.”

“Might,” he said warily.

“Well, I’m just saying,” I went on, giving up on my underwear and tugging my skirt down instead. “You know, if you were to bathe, find a dentist to work on those teeth of yours, get a haircut, and locate the nearest men’s big and tall store for some clothes actually from this century…and your skin’s a little knotty, but a good dermatologist could take care of that. Still, don’t know what you’d do about the horns. Those are a dead giveaway.”

“What, you sayin’ I should be givin’ up bein’ a troll?” he asked, looking all offended. I rolled my eyes and got to my feet, brushing the dirt off my legs and thighs.

“When was the last time you saw another troll?” I asked, hands on hips as I stared down at him. Shaking my head, I pulled off my shoes and started heading for the stream bank. “Anyway, the ‘wimmen’ might not scream so much if you tried all that. At least, not in the bad way.”

I winked at him and scrambled up the bank, making my way back across the bridge. Then I stopped, thought for a moment, and leaned over the side, calling, “At any rate, give me a call sometime. This was fun.”

No answer came back. I shrugged and went home. I'd gotten away with my skin intact--seriously bruised, but intact. Troll boy's loneliness was not my problem.

I brushed at the leaves and dirt pasted on my skin and curled my lip in disgust. Yuck. I seriously needed a nice, hot bath.