Vernal Recollections

Another "Heartland Tale", with a nod to "Heartland" creator and Literotica author Trisha Monks for her inspiration and indulgence. Follow the link on my Favorites page to see her work.

This is a standalone story though and may be read without the context of other "Heartland Tales" stories; however, context may be provided by reading my other stories "In an Iron Sling" and "Instinct" for an introduction the the recurring character of Hannah, the witch.

*****

"Slowly now, Lovey," Hannah cautioned. "It has been a while."

"Ye don't need to remind me, girl," answered the witch's unusual lover as he nestled between her thighs and maneuvered his cockstem to the opening of her glistening pussy.

"Call me

girl

again," was the purred response. "I do soooo enjoy feeling young by comparison."

"Bah, yer but a blink in the eye of time, ye skinnyleg lass," was the answer she received. "I seen more'n ten times as many sunsets as yerself, as ye know. It's me who is gettin' to be the elderly one in this relationship."

Hannah had enjoyed many lovers over the years, but this one would always be the most dear. The one-eyed witch smiled and opened herself to him.

*****

Hannah was just the shady side of fifty-five winters, which by her accounting gave her about fifty-five more winters before she was really old, and she was still as fit and beautiful as she could be. Her body was tight in all the right places and soft in all the right places as well. Her mind was sharp, her senses acute, and her strength enough that she could still likely have picked her lover up over her head and given him a good toss had the notion struck her. The last was a threat that had been made more than once.

Her lover happened to be a dear old friend of hers (quite old in fact) that she saw just often enough to satisfy certain desires and arrangements and not often enough to become a bother. His name was Lomain Poll, and he was a rather remarkable dwarf.

Lomain had come into Hannah's life not long after she had landed in her current position as the witch of her locale. Upon setting up housekeeping in the Cathalian wilderness, Hannah began searching for the implements of her trade, notably for a good source of high-quality cauldrons. Iron cauldrons, though generally not uncommon, turn out to be quite a commodity when one lives in a wilderness of wood.

Fortunately, the young witch and the wandering dwarf had happened upon each other at a propitious moment when Hannah was in possession of certain medicines needed by the dwarf, and Lomain was in possession of certain raw iron materials. Bargains were struck, arrangements were made, and a friendship was begun that now neared twenty-five years of love and trust.

The dwarf was a skilled craftsman from a good guildmaster. He provided Hannah with cauldrons, tools, spits, hooks, bits, and bobs enough to last her the rest of her life. Years later he also designed and constructed the unusual iron-reinforced slings that Hannah wore to support her enormous breasts. Though her chest had not reached the august proportions of her later years, the younger Hannah was still quite heavily endowed and needed special support. The dwarf's skills blended nicely for this task as he was also unusually talented with a needle and thread. Despite these predictable dwarven craft skills, Lomain was most remarkable for two unrelated reasons.

First, he had forsaken his clan and craft master at the late middle-age of three hundred fifty winters to live above ground and wander as a ranger in the wilderness. Though rangers were well respected citizens of the Heartland, it was unheard of for one of the bearded folk to count himself among their number. In trade for Lomain's metal skills, Hannah had taught him some of what she knew of woodcraft and natural medicine to help him on his Path. This edge was all it took for Lomain to elevate his standing from "oddity" to that of "legend" during his advanced age in the mysterious tribe of the ranger folk.

Lomain, like the rest of his race, was short of stature and sturdily built. He was unusually tall and rangy for a dwarf, owing to his nomadic lifestyle, but even so he barely came to Hannah's shoulder. Lomain claimed that chopping wood, carrying game, and running were just as good exercise as working the mine or the forge, so he was also counted as extraordinarily strong. The word among the folk of the Cathalian wilderness was that Lomain could crush a green apple in his hand without even raising the blood to his face. Hannah was the only person who ever got away with calling him "Lovey" – a play on the dwarven pronunciation of his name. No one else tried... at least not more than once.

The second and much less esoteric aspect of Lomain that made him remarkable was that he had the largest cockstem that Hannah had ever seen. This particular wonder of Nature had fascinated Hannah from the moment it made its presence known during the fitting for her first iron sling. It was many years ago...

*****

"Are ye sure ye don't want me to leave whilst ye do this, lass," Lomain, asked covering his eyes with his hands.

"You are a silly old dwarf, Lovey," Hannah chided as she took her bodice and sling off. "You have known this witch for long enough to know that I would never have asked for this favor were I bashful with you or mistrustful of your intentions. You've been staring at my cleavage for nearly seven years, so the least you can do is get over your pretended modesty and help me please.

"I'm sure that you've seen breasts unbound before, so perhaps it's time you finally saw mine. Besides, I can't see how you could possibly design a new sling for me if you don't help me measure for it."

Lomain took a deep breath and uncovered his eyes to catch his first unimpeded view ever of the witch's very large, intricately tattooed bosom. Hannah handed him the piece of indexed twine and lifted a breast in each hand to hold them in the desired position for measuring. Lomain immediately went quite pale, but he dutifully attempted to measure across Hannah's jutting chest. The moment the dwarf's hands touched her globes, however, his eyes glazed over and he began shaking.

"Are you all right, Lovey?" the young witch asked as she watched the color further leave his face.

Lomain looked up past her beautiful endowments to her soft eyes and croaked, "Need to sit down just a moment. I feel a wee bit wobbly."

Hannah quickly helped him into a chair by the open window. All the while the venerable dwarf maintained a distracted hold on Hannah's breasts until the witch took his hands away and folded them in his lap. It was then that she saw the large knot midway down the left inside thigh of his breeches and the sudden spreading wet stain emanating from it.

"Oh Lovey! You have an infected wound you didn't tell me about. It's burst, and you're bleeding!" Hannah fretted and reached out gingerly to palpate the swollen lump. To her surprise it was hard and pulsed in her hand. Also, the fluid soaking through Lomain's breeches was warm, sticky, and definitely not blood.

Lomain gave a small moan and continued shuddering as he replied, "It's me cock. I just spent me seed in me damn britches, ye daft girl."

With that the dwarf's eyes rolled back, and he fainted with a final view of the witch's perfect breasts pendulating inches from his face.

*****

Lomain awoke lying on the bed with his feet elevated and a blanket over him. His head hurt, and his breeches felt wet through down his left thigh.

Bollocks and bebother

, he thought.

Now I have stuck me foot in it.

He glanced down to see Hannah sitting at the foot of the bed staring intently at him while she held his wrist to count his pulse. Her prodigious charms were still on display and Lomain felt his cock begin to harden again.

"How long was I out?" the dwarf croaked.

"Only a few minutes," Hannah answered. ""Sweet Lovey, what happened?"

"I had meself a rather strong reaction to yer figure, it seems. These days I ain't as young as I once was, and occasionally I get light headed if I stand up too quick like or me blood shifts suddenly. I'm over five hunnerd years old, so these things happen unexpected sometimes."

"So down your leg, that really was..." Hannah trailed off.

"Me cock. Aye, I've got a bit more'n most in me britches and the sight of you without yer blouse on just sent me blood south in a rush. No offense meant. It's no big worry."

"So the wetness..."

"I loosed a load of semen in me britches! I ain't apologizin' fer nothin'!" Lomain sat up and began to shout as his temper got the better of his embarrassment. "To see and touch yer grand breasts just put me over the edge. Yer me friend and me ally fer sure... but I love ye and desire ye, lass. I have for a long time. Can ye blame this old ranger fer havin' a strong reaction?"

Hannah blinked a few times and then shrugged with a big smile, "It's natural."

Then it was Lomain's turn to blink. He deflated his temper and began to laugh, "That's all ye have to say, ye little temptress?"

"No," said Hannah and kissed the dwarf's hand that she was holding. "I love you too, you old curmudgeon. I'm also worried about you. We need to visit a hawthorn tree, if you're ever to wield that formidable cockstem safely again."

"What're ye on about?"

"Infusion of hawthorn will balance your blood. It should prevent those episodes of dizziness and keep you from losing your head when I do this," Hannah grinned and shimmied her heavy breasts at the prostrate dwarf.

The dwarf flopped back on the bed in an exasperated fit of guffawing. Finally he sat back up and wiped away a few tears of mirth and joy.

"Shoulda known ye'd be equanimous about all this. If I had known, I'd have told ye years ago," Lomain responded. "What're we to do with this then, lass? Yer a witch who cannot have a husband, and I, meself, am a ranger who cannot have a home. That's not to mention we have the small matter of several hunnerd years of age difference and a certain ethnic disconnection as well, if ye get me meaning."

"Love is as it is. We can love and enjoy each other as we are. Our responsibilities to the greater good will keep us apart, but my mistress taught me that love lives if you feed it. The only

sticky

thing to sort out is how do we express it – as friends, as fellow craftworkers and wilderness dwellers, as lovers? That's undecided, but quite obviously some barriers have come down."

"That ain't the only sticky thing, lass. I done a bit of expressin' already, and me britches are fouled. Can I wash 'em out while I'm here?"

"Of course! Besides, you're a dear friend and a brother and a teacher and a mentor and an aggravation to me... but that doesn't mean I'm not terribly curious to see this 'more'n most in yer britches'." The witch released his hand and scooted off the bed.

"I reckon it's only fair, lass, since I can't keep me eyes off yer bosom."

Hannah laughed musically and went outside to draw a bucket of water from the stream that wandered behind her cottage. Meanwhile Lomain shucked off his breeches and cleaned himself up the best he could with his pocket handkerchief. He had just covered back up with the blanket when the witch came back in and put some of the water in the kettle to boil for tea and the rest in the washtub. She scooped up the sticky breeches (under the dwarf's protest of "I can wash me own damn clothes!") and dropped them into the washtub with some soap to soak.

As soon as the kettle water was hot, Hannah moistened a soft cloth and handed it over to Lomain who gratefully cleaned himself further under cover of the blanket. While this occurred behind her, Hannah washed out the dwarf's breeches and a bit her of her own laundry, rinsed it all, and took it outside to dry in the sun.

After returning, Hannah poured the kettle into the teapot and set out some bread to serve while the tea steeped. All of these simple domestic activities were made all the more entertaining for Lomain because the witch remained topless throughout.

Soon the tea was poured, and Hannah had resumed her place at the foot of the bed. Her skirts rode up to her thighs as she drew her knees up to aim her legs up the bed toward Lomain. Her feet burrowed under his blanket and rested against his hip. The connection helped ease the tension they both felt.

"Thank you fer the washin' up and the tea," the dwarf ventured.

"You're very welcome," Hannah replied. "I didn't mind a bit. You needed to rest for a moment. Fortunately it is early spring, so we should be able to harvest some hawthorn to fix up that infusion for you later today."

"Aye, tis bad luck to harvest it anytime it ain't bloomin'," Lomain agreed. "Maybe my britches will be dry by then."

"I'm amazed you let loose that much semen without even touching yourself. I thought it was a matter of dwarvish pride to have unequaled staying power?"

"Tis that, but I've been a long time walkin' without a furrow to fuck, if ye don't mind me being blunt. I ain't used me hand in a while either, though fer no good reason other than the desire hasn't struck me.

"Of course I've been hard plenty of times from starin' at yer bountiful beauty, but I went full mast very quickly when ye took her clothes off just now and touchin' you was all it took to send me pent up seed over the edge. Me old clan would taunt me fer a century if they knew I spurted like a beardless boy."

"Only because they've never seen these," Hannah teased and coyly twitched her shoulders to set her breasts jiggling. Glowing cascades highlighted the movement as Hannah's tattoos appeared to chase each other around her curves.

"They are truly as magnificent as I always imagined they were, lass. I like 'em big."

"So do I," Hannah replied with a naughty look. "May I see?"

"Gotcher interest there, do I?"

"Oh indeed! What I squeezed on your thigh was most intriguing."

"It's just the way Nature made me," Lomain shrugged. "I'm already erect again, so here, have yerself a look."

"Wait!" Hannah cried as Lomain began to draw back the blanket. "I have a different idea."

While still keeping everything hidden by the blanket, Hannah slid her left leg under Lomain's left leg so that her left foot extended between his thighs and his left foot lay between her legs just a little above the knees. The feel of the witch's foot so near his cockstem hardened Lomain even further, and the softness of her legs around his made the dwarf's heart pound.

"Since you touched my breasts, I feel it's only fair that I discover you first by touch alone," Hannah explained.

The dwarf caught his breath as the witch's foot stole higher and her toes encountered his balls. Her foot gently explored his textures and the impressive heft of his testicles.

"Hmmm, bare and smooth – soft, feathery skin and warm, heavy balls the size of creek stones! This is an auspicious beginning, Lovey," purred Hannah. "Oh my, they're drawing up a bit. Am I exciting you?"

"Ye know ye are, ye wicked girl," Lomain replied. "As fer being smooth and bare – most dwarves are hairless down below, or didn't ye know? The folklore'll tell you it's because all our hair growin' talent goes into our beards, but the truth of it is that we're just naturally bare below with only a little bit of hair up top to show maturity. Dwarf women are the same way."

The witch's foot stole higher until she reached the root of Lomain's cock. This pushed the dwarf's foot a few inches farther up her skirt as well. The firmness of Lomain's fully engorged shaft felt massive and solid under her questing foot. Its girth was astounding and the further her foot reached, the more of it there seemed to be. The dwarf moaned softly as her instep pressed upon him.

"My word," Hannah whispered. "It's longer than my foot."

She stretched further, pushing her leg deeper between Lomain's until he could feel a humid heat nearing his own foot. At last Hannah's toes encountered the bulbous head atop Lomain's swollen shaft. The wetness of his excitement felt slick under her toes as she pressed her foot fully upon him and began to massage his massive organ with slow, firm, deliberate strokes.

Minutes dripped away in a rising fog of arousal until Lomain felt Hannah thrust her leg forward in a particularly long stroke up to his swollen cockhead. His own foot briefly encountered hot, damp fur in the depths beneath the witch's skirts, and for the second time that day, thick bursts of semen rocketed from him, and his legs shook with ecstasy. Hannah laughed aloud as he rode the waves of his climax and pulsed beneath her foot.

"Damn it! I messed me shirt and yer blanket now, too," was the first thing he said upon returning to earth.

"I guess you'll just have to go naked until your clothes are clean and dry then," Hannah replied and put a sensuous jiggle to her breasts again.

*****

"I must admit, this is the first time I have ever actually seen a skinnyleg woman's pussy up close." Lomain said shortly thereafter.

The two friends were lounging naked in the afternoon sun outside Hannah's front door while the dwarf's clothes continued to dry. The spring day was warm and all of Hannah's tattoos glowed softly where the sun kissed them.

"Is your first good look to your liking?" Hannah asked as she sat cross-legged on the blanket they shared and sipped her tea.

"Aye, yer very beautiful, my witch," Lomain answered with all sincerity. "I will say yer definitely fuzzier than a dwarf woman, though not as much as an orc girl, if you've ever wondered."

"I take it you've sampled both?"

"Aye, many dwarf women over the years, but only one orc girl. She was another ranger like meself. We found each other holed up in the same shelter during a really rough winter storm up in the foothills of the Amethyst range. Wound up stuck there for a week in very close quarters and ended up fuckin' fer about the last half of it. She was a wonderful girl. That was a long, long time ago.

"Anyway, she claimed to be representative of her kinfolk when I asked. Lots of stiff black pubic hair, a strong musky scent and taste, and an amazin' capacity fer creative sex. She'd try

anything

, and believe me, we did," Lomain laughed nostalgically.

"What about dwarf women?" Hannah asked and looked down between her thighs at herself.

"No hair down the sides at all to speak of, just a thick patch up top. That's as opposed to elf girls. They've got none at all. Elf men are the same way. It's kind of creepy if ye ask me."

"So you've been with elves as well? You do get around, you lecherous old thing," Hannah mock chided.

"Nah, ain't never had an elf meself, but ye see all kinds of things in the wilderness when folks think they ain't bein' watched. The men got no girth to their cocks, which I s'pose is good because their small chested women are supposed to be unbelievably tight. Dwarf women ain't real subtle, and a favorite curse of me lady kin is to say, 'Ye could put that little thing in an elf pussy and it would rattle!'

"Anyway, back at the point, I have never got me a good look at a human woman's pussy, so I hope ye don't mind that I'm starin' at yers."

"Stare all you want," Hannah replied with a big smile and raised her knees to give Lomain an unimpeded view. "I believe myself to be representative of my kind."

"Absolutely beautiful, if ye don't mind me sayin'. I've made love to a handful of human girls along the years, but they were always quick occasions under hiked up skirts – barmaids in their cups and the like. I never got a good look at the goods or a chance to taste them. They just wanted to feel inside 'em what the rumors claimed to be true."

"Well I cannot say that I have heard the rumors, nor do I make a practice of participating in them. I can say that you have the largest cockstem I have ever seen, and I have seen my share."