Waxley the Bold

(Author's note: This story was inspired by my tabletop gaming days. If you understand what that means, then you will have no problems understanding the magical references in this tale. For the rest of you, think of this story as something close to 'Lord Of The Rings.' Warrows are like hobbits, and the rest . . . well, that is easily figured out.

This is the second part of Waxley's story. As with the first part, this is more about adventure and romance, in a fantasy setting, and less about sex. I urge you to read Part One before going further. Otherwise, you may be at a loss. I hope you enjoy this little tale of fantasy. There may be more in the works, but I can't promise such. Waxley the Bold remains one of my favorite characters, so who knows? He may return.)

***

Waxley awoke with a start, sitting up upon the couch, eyes wide, muscles tensed. He gasped, panted deeply, the dream's effects still lingering. He looked about, unsure of, for a moment, where he was. He did not recognize the walls, the simple woodcarvings placed upon numerous tables and shelves, shaped in the form of woodland creatures. Nor did he recognize the couch upon which he lay, the quilted blue blanket that covered him, the threadbare and worn rug that covered the wooden slats of the floor.

But then, slowly, recognition did come. This was Corabell's home. Corabell, the village healer . . . Who comforted him, healed him . . . Loved him.

He swung his feet to the floor, realizing he was without his clothing. He drew the blanket across his lap self-consciously. He closed his eyes, regulated his breathing, told himself that the dream had been just that, a dream. But he felt there was more to it, something important.

He heard the rustle of fabric from behind him, a small, short gasp nearly inaudible. Waxley looked over his shoulder as Corabell stood in the doorway to her room, clad in a dress of sky-blue and earthen tones.

"You're awake!" she exclaimed softly, coming around the couch.

Waxley looked up at her, still feeling a little dazed. His body felt as if he'd had too much of Brownie Greenbottle's ale. "How long have I been asleep?" he asked.

"Most of the day," said Corabell, touching his forehead. "You've lost your fever."

Waxley looked down at his partially-exposed body. "Among other things."

She smiled sweetly. "I cleaned and oiled your leathers," she said. Her face looked grim. "Captain Wills has kept the entire village on high alert all day. The goblins you captured were put to death this morning. Captain Wills said they knew nothing except that the goblin army is nearly a hundred strong. He's called up volunteers from the young

herren

, made them all temporary deputies. Crawley's Crossing has its own army now."

"I doubt it will make a difference," said Waxley.

"As do I," said Corabell, sinking to her knees. Her wide blue eyes trembled. "I'm frightened, Waxley. The goblins have been sighted near the walls. It is as if they are testing us, wanting to see how many of us there are. The crossbowmen have skewered a few, but it hardly makes a difference."

"Has anyone left the village?" asked Waxley.

She shook her head. "Captain Wills has ordered the gates locked until reinforcements from Heimdall arrive . . . If ever."

"They should have been here by now," said Waxley. "I don't like this."

Corabell took a deep, shuddering breath. "I had best gather your leathers," she said, standing. "Captain Wills wanted to be informed the moment you awoke."

Waxley suddenly grabbed Corabell's slender wrist. "No," he said.

She frowned down at him. "Waxley?"

"Do not tell Captain Wills I've awakened," he said. "There's something I have to do."

She sunk to her knees again. "What is it?" she asked.

"Someplace . . . I must go," he said with a frown of confusion. "Corabell, do you know of a tree, a great, gnarled oak, in the midst of a clearing, beneath which is a . . . a cave or some sort of dwelling?"

Corabell's brow furrowed. "Why . . . Yes," she said hesitantly. "It is the home of the Deep Druid."

"The Deep Druid?"

Corabell nodded. "He is a Warrow-friend," she said. "But mysterious and powerful. Not many know of him, which is as he wants it. On occasion, we -- the healers -- come to him for assistance or advice. In fact, I contemplated going to him."

"I need to see him," said Waxley.

"What? Why?" she asked, alarmed. "And how could you know of him?"

"I'm not sure," said Waxley, standing suddenly, forgetting his lack of clothes. "But I have to go there, at once!"

Corabell stared at her young hero, eyes wide and roaming of their own volition over his lean, muscular form. Waxley suddenly looked down at his nakedness, then self-consciously clapped his hands over his groin. "Oops," he muttered.

Corabell smiled with a look that was at once mischievous and knowing. "Come here," she whispered.

Waxley frowned. "But I haven't anything on!" he exclaimed.

Corabell's eyes glittered. "I know," she said. "That is why I want you to come here."

Waxley stared at her for a long moment, understanding her intent. His gaze never leaving hers, he slowly removed his hands, remaining where he was. Arousal began to push all other feelings aside as he watched Corabell's eyes drift down, as she nibbled her bottom lip in contemplation.

"Come here," she whispered again, shifting on her knees.

Mutely, the young Warrow approached, feeling his erection grow as he neared the

madchen

he adored above all others. He trembled with arousal as Corabell lifted her hands and reached for him. He stopped merely a pace from her as her warm hands wrapped around his twitching shaft. He could feel her moist, hot breath upon the head of his cock.

"I want to do something for you," she whispered, gazing with adoration upon the thick length of flesh she held. The tip of Waxley's cock oozed thickly. Lovingly, she pressed her lips against it, smearing the fluid across her lips. Her tongue slipped out, tasting the clear cream. She moaned softly.

"Oh, Corabell," whispered Waxley in pleasure, bringing up his hands to caress her thick, soft hair. Reflexively, he pushed against her warm mouth, watched as her lips slid around the head of his cock.

She pulled back with an embarrassed smile, slowly squeezing and stroking his shaft. Her apologetic eyes darted up to his rapturous face. "I've never done this before," she whispered.

Waxley touched her soft cheek. "You're off to a wonderful start," he said.

Corabell grinned, and licked around the head of Waxley's cock. She squeezed and stroked, urging out more sweet, clear fluid that disappeared amid swipes of her eager tongue. "Am I?" she asked coyly.

Waxley chuckled, his eyes full of erotic wonder. "Oh, yes, my sweet Corabell. You have a natural . . . oh . . . f-flair . . . ." his words trailed off as Corabell took the smooth, shiny head of his cock into her mouth and began sucking lovingly, longingly. Her eyes closed in concentration. She moaned gently as she savored the feel and flavor of her lover's manhood.

Waxley sighed with pleasure, enjoying the realization of fantasies he had fostered for years concerning Corabell. Never had he truly expected that one day, the most beautiful and desirable of all Warrow

madchen

would be pleasuring him with her mouth . . . and that she would be doing it so well.

Corabell's enthusiasm grew and grew, compelling her to take her lover deeper within her mouth. She loved the way her lips stretched around his shaft, the heaviness of it upon her tongue, the slick, rubbery push of it against the roof of her mouth. There seemed to be no end to the sweet trickle of fluid that seeped from within him; not that Corabell minded at all. Indeed, she loved the flavor, and sucked hard to get as much as she could, squeezing his length in her hands to coax it all out.

"C-Corabell," Waxley gasped after a few minutes. His fingers were tangled in her thick hair, which hung about her flushed face. "You're going to end it too soon."

Corabell slid her wet, glistening mouth off his cock, smacked and licked her lips. Her watery eyes stared up into his. "I want you inside me," she whispered.

Waxley's heart leapt. "Are you sure?"

Corabell took in a deep, nervous breath, then nodded. "Yes, my dearest," she whispered, pushing up until she sat upon the edge of the couch. Her eyes wandered up and down his naked body. She trembled with desire. "I want to give myself to you."

Waxley lowered himself to his knees before her, heart fluttering with emotion. "I want you to be sure," he said.

Corabell laughed softly, nervously, her eyes welling with tears. "Don't give me the chance to change my mind," she said.

Waxley smiled, cupped her face in his hands. "I love you," he said.

She swooned, and tears trickled from her eyes. "And I love you, my hero," she whispered in response. She murmured more words, but they were muffled as their lips met. Hungrily, she kissed him, and her hands clutched at Waxley's body, pulling him to her. Her voluptuous thighs parted as Waxley pressed himself to her.

Slowly, so as not to intimidate her, Waxley broke the kiss and eased back, sliding his hands up from her thighs, passed her diminutive waist, to the full, ample mounds beneath the bodice of Corabell's simple dress. She sighed loudly, eyes closed, face contorted in pleasure as she was touched for the first time. Her nipples stabbed aggressively through the fabric covering them and into Waxley's fingers and palms.

"Relax, my love," cooed Waxley, unlacing her bodice.

"I-I-I'm trying," Corabell responded, then giggled girlishly. Her eyes blinked open, surrounded by tears. "You must think me a silly girl, even though I am older than you."

Waxley smiled upon her as he slowly separated the material of her top, exposing her perfect, round, firm breasts. Her skin was creamy and smooth, unblemished, untouched. Against the pale backdrop, her stiff nipples were like rosebuds set upon the petals of lilies.

"I think you are the most beautiful woman in all of Gorwal," he said, then lowered his head.

"Oh! Idunn!" gasped the healer as she felt one of her nipples wrapped in warm, wet, sucking flesh. She pushed her breasts against Waxley's face, hugged his head against her bosom. Her thighs parted more; she felt the stiffness of his erection through her skirt, pressing up between her thighs. Suddenly and desperately, she wanted to feel him inside her.

Waxley sucked and licked longingly upon what, to him, had to be the most perfect breasts to ever grace a

madchen

. He passed back and forth, sucking, nibbling, pulling upon them, until both Corabell's nipples were thick and swollen. Even the wide, pale pink bases of her areolae had puffed out, and were glistening from his mouth.

"I want you," panted Corabell, pulling Waxley's head from her chest and forcing him to look up at her. "Please. Take me."

Waxley's heart thundered. Seductive finesse vanished; he could no longer stand the torture any more than Corabell could. Lead by his passions, he jerked on her dress, all but ripping it from her torso. Corabell undulated, twisting this way and that as she helped him. Modesty was gone as her torso was bared, then as the simple braided rope belt was undone and the skirt came down. She laughed, curling her legs back, eagerly assisting Waxley as he removed and tossed aside her clothes.

Finally as naked as he, as naked as they both had been at birth, Corabell held out her arms yearningly. She sighed as she felt the weight of his body upon hers, moaned into his mouth while they kissed. Their mouths slipped from one another's hers went to his ear as Waxley nibbled upon her neck.

"Make love to me, Waxley," she hissed passionately. "Make me a woman at last."

Waxley groaned, then pushed up on his arms, gazing down upon his lovely Corabell. He smiled rakishly. "Let me do something for you, first," he whispered, then pressed his lips to hers before making his way down her body.

Corabell moaned and squirmed in anticipation, watching with furrowed brow as her lover kissed and licked his way to her breasts, teasing her nipples with his tongue, then as he slinked lower.

"Waxley, my love, what are you . . . wh-what . . . oh, Waxley . . . ."

He grinned up at her for a moment as he straightened upon his knees, between Corabell's splayed thighs. His eyes drifted down, beholding what he could only see as the only perfect example of femininity in the world. Corabell's swollen, glistening sex was framed by thick, soft golden curls. The color of wheat upon her mound, they darkened along the puffy vulva, especially around the base of her slick, pink opening, where the sweet, fragrant fluid of her arousal had begun to trickle.

"I'm going to taste you," he declared, then lowered his head.

"Oh, Waxley! Ah!" cried Corabell, arching her back, clutching at her love's head as he pressed his mouth to her sex. She felt every questing lick and caress of his tongue, the brushing of his nose through her downy curls, the endearing, scratchy stubble of his chin against the interior of her thighs. Corabell stared up at the ceiling, her mouth slack and eyes blinking profusely. Then she grinned with unparalleled pleasure.

Oh, this is heaven

, she thought, and ground against him.

Waxley devoured her with more enthusiasm, more desire, than he had ever felt with any tavern wench he had known before. With other

madchen

, the simple act of tasting had been a given, and one that was indulged only to slicken the way. But with Corabell, Waxley wanted more. He wanted to bring her to ultimate pleasure with just his mouth.

"Oh! Waxley! Oh! Oh! OhsweetIdunnblessedbethypath . . . Ahhh!" Corabell thrashed and bucked as her release washed through her with a force unlike any she had ever known. She shoved her virgin sex roughly against Waxley's eager mouth, gripped a fistful of his hair in one hand as the other slapped to the couch. "Uhn! Ah! Oh! Oh, Waxley!"

She finally pushed his slick face from her satisfied pussy and sagged onto the couch. Her body tingled; her thighs twitched. She trembled with aftershocks as Waxley kissed all around her damp mound, licked fluid from the insides of her thighs. Heavy eyes fluttered as they stared at the ceiling. Abruptly, she laughed.

Waxley lifted his head, wiped his mouth. He frowned in confusion at his lover's reaction. "Corabell?" he queried.

She lifted her head to look upon him with a grateful, awe-filled expression. "Oh, my love," she breathed. "That was wonderful."

Waxley grinned.

"Come up here and kiss me, my sweet," she urged, pulling on his shoulders.

Waxley obeyed eagerly, once more laying his body upon Corabell's. The head of his cock brushed the slippery folds of her sex as they kissed. Corabell mewed gently as she sucked her own essence from his lips. She gasped slightly as the tip of Waxley's staff parted her slick lips. She felt it nudge against her tight opening. The feeling was exquisite. She wanted more.

Corabell lifted her legs and locked her ankles behind the small of Waxley's back. She clutched his shoulders and stared up into his face. For a moment, anxiety was evident upon her glowing face.

Waxley recognized the look. "Tell me to stop," he said, even as he wished she would not.

Corabell breathed in and out, full breasts rising and falling. The grip of her strong thighs loosened a bit; she thought of pushing him away. But conviction filled her, and she tightened her legs about him once more.

"No," she said. "I love you, Waxley, my dearest, my champion, my hero. Among all the men in this world, it is you I want to give myself to."

Waxley smiled, touched her face. He allowed a few tears of his own to leak free as he touched and kissed Corabell's lips. "As you wish," he whispered, then pushed inside her.

Corabell sighed, then winced, then grunted as she was filled. She felt her maidenhead stretch, then break, and gasped at the sudden pain. Her virgin tunnel stretched around the thick intruder that steadily filled it. She trembled for several moments, wishing the pain away.

Slowly, as Waxley buried himself within her, watching her face, the pain subsided, replaced with pleasure, with . . . with a wonderful feeling of fullness. Corabell sighed, smiling at last, and fluttered her eyes open. She squeezed Waxley's shoulders while gazing with unabashed adoration into his face.

"I'm yours," she gasped amid a shuddering sigh.

"And I am yours," responded Waxley. Her kissed her deeply, and began sliding in and out, back and forth, relishing the tightness within Corabell's body, the spasming muscles that sucked and pulled at his cock. Never had he felt anything as

inspiring

as making love to Corabell.

Passionate love soon gave way to animal desire. Waxley's pace quickened, and he plunged deeper and deeper inside Corabell with each thrust. She met his movements with her own, giving herself up eagerly, relishing in the incredible and previously unknown sensations that exploded through her body. And explode they did, again and again. The slick, squeezing walls of her sex tightened about Waxley's burrowing cock with each rapturous eruption from within her. Corabell's grinning, beaming, glowing, sweaty face showed her delight with every orgasm she experienced.

Oh, now

this

is truly heaven!

"Corabell! Oh, Corabell!" cried Waxley, finally allowing himself his own orgasm.

"Show me!" cried his lover, heaving beneath him. "Show me!"

Waxley grunted as his orgasm began, and her jerked his slick, glistening cock from Corabell's gaping, slightly bloody pussy. Thrusting out over her taut abdomen, he felt the quickening from within, aided along by Corabell's eager hands as they squeezed and rapidly stroked his slippery shaft. Thick lances of milky cream spurted forth, onto Corabell's breasts and abdomen. A few ambitious jets made their way to her neck and chin. Corabell giggled gleefully, milking Waxley of every drop as he shuddered above her. The golden hair of her sex became matted and sticky as the last few drops fell upon them.

"Oh, my . . . Waxley!" Corabell exclaimed, then laughed sweetly. She touched her chin, wiping up a dollop of the fluid, then sucked it off her fingers. "Mmm," she moaned, then pushed herself up, doubling over to latch her mouth around the head of Waxley's dripping, oozing cock.

Waxley shuddered in intense pleasure, hissing through his teeth as Corabell's sweet mouth sucked lovingly on his sensitive cock. He held out against the sensations as long as he could, finally pulling her face up and gazing down into her eyes.

"Please . . . enough," he gasped.

Corabell giggled softly, nibbling the tip of her tongue. She was, truly, a vision of erotic loveliness at that moment, with her cherubic face framed by thick golden curls, her dimpled cheeks reddened and glowing, lush lips smeared with thick white fluid that dribbled down her chin. Slowly, she licked, then sucked her lips, getting another taste of him.

Waxley panted as he slowly returned from the pinnacle of pleasure. "Oh, my love, that was fantastic."

Corabell smiled demurely, her hands still laboriously stroking his softening shaft. She licked away a last thick dollop of semen from the tip of his cock, met his eyes. "Even moreso for me," she whispered.

***

Blessed be the strange ways of healers

, thought Waxley as he emerged through a hidden, moss-covered trap door within a secluded corner of a small garden, used by the apothecary to grow various herbs and flowers. A wooden crate made the door somewhat heavy to lift, but also served to further conceal it.

Following the unexpected, yet sweet coupling with Corabell, Waxley had asked her if she knew of any secret ways to leave the village. The hidden tunnel from Corabell's basement to the garden had saved Waxley the trouble of trying to sneak through town in the late afternoon sun. Now, all he had to do was climb over the wall and follow Corabell's instructions to reach the home of the Deep Druid.