Summers Love

[DirtyOldMan]

Again Casta was feeling the pressure of her editors to produce works that will sell well. She made a start with A Tale of Three Nords, but that was too romantic, too aristocratic for the Common man to identify with. True, her characters were earthy and identifiable, characters with whom the common man could identify, but the storyline was too much in the esotheric, and too little in the real world. 

 

So after much encouragement and the biting of bile, she decided to try her hand at something a bit more tawdry, a bit more explicit. If that is what sells and can restore her fame, then she will follow her sister down the dark path, if only for a little bit. Thus, she presented to her editors, A Summers Love:

 

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A Summer's Love

by Casta Scribonia

Authoress of 'Woman Gone Wild'

 

Selvia stared wistfully out of the loft’s dusty window. She knew she would never see her lover again, that strapping blonde young man who worked her father’s fields.  A tear rolled down her cheek as she stared at the empty, barren fields. Like her heart, nothing grew there either.

 

She had been happy, once. Five years ago Milus and Carola came to the farmstead, bringing with them their son Janus. They had been tenant farmers in Colovia. A rebellious lord fought his duke over some mundane matter important enough for the two to settle it with swords and blood. They chose the family’s farm to meet. The land was very fertile the following year, but there was nobody left alive to sow seeds they no longer had.

 

Milus and Carola did as most other tenant farmers did whenever armies approach- they fled. Those who fled were often branded as cowards by lords encased in iron and steel. Tenant farmers who stayed found themselves killed by the soldiers, their women passed around among the troops for their enjoyment until they too died, and their goods and seed confiscated by whichever army was closest. It was a tough choice to make- die a brave man, or live as a coward. Most tenant farmers were barely above the class of slave. What is the value of bravery to such?

 

That was five years ago. Janus was a small lad of thirteen winters, though he looked more like nine. He was small, and Selvia teased him endlessly from her insurmountable height of a head taller. They were roughly the same age, yet she was tall and willowy while he was a knotty little troll. She was the daughter of an independent landholder and dressed in linen; he the son of displaced tenant farmers, the poorest of the poor, who wore sack cloth when he had it or nothing when he did not.. They could not be more different.

 

Yet Father Akatosh has a way of making changes. Subtle ones at first- a tentative eye followed by a furtive smile. A small giggle where once only contempt reigned. Then the changes became more pronounced. Janus spent much time with his father in the fields. The work lightened his hair and broadened his shoulders, coating his bones with thick layers of hardened muscle. His face became lean and gaunt, chiseled as if from marble. His legs grew as well, especially the last three years. He towered above his former torturer.

 

He was always gentle around her, despite her attempts to provoke him or be petty. He always acknowledged her commands, and did her bidding, and protected her from the pranks of her older brothers. Always, without hesitation, without a thought. His father Milus had taught him to be respectful and protective, and his mother Carola taught him the finer points of being social. The lord’s sons taught him to fight. Unwillingly, of course, as he learned to fight by defending himself from their attacks until he could thrash the both of them.  Janus became a mix of all three influences.

 

Selvia too had changed with the passage of time. She was always tall and willowy, like an elf, but her growth was not in the sporadic spurts as Janus, but a steady tread like a mill. Her once blonde hair darkened to a light brown, the color of pine needles that coat the floor of the nearby forest. Her green eyes grew large and clear, and her face rounded. She was no longer so very willowy, her figure filling out nicely with widening hips and budding breasts poking forth against her linen shift like two small sweetrolls rising in the oven of a master baker.

 

The landhold was small. Only Selvia and her two brothers lived in the main hall with her parents, while Janus was the only child among the eight tenant families. Her brothers fought incessantly as brothers do, and often tried to include her in their wrathful games. Sometimes their games could cause serious harm, but Janus was always there, protective Janus,  shielding her from them and taking the brunt of their ire upon himself.

 

So it was inevitable that one day Selvia was walking her favorite path through the woods alone, pondering nothing but the lovely sunshine filtering down through the pines, and laughing at the scampering of the small puppy at her feet when it happened. Such idyll cannot last, and it did not. Danger loomed.  A passing wolf caught the scent of the intruders and came to investigate.

 

This was a Cyrodiil wolf. It does not run in packs like wild wolves elsewhere usually do, but travels a lonely path of murderous solitude. It was a vicious thing fit only to kill or be killed, with no mercy given or requested.  It was the young woman’s ill luck to play with her frolicking puppy in the vicinity of such a beast.

 

The puppy stood no chance. It playfully chased a butterfly to the girl’s laughter, following it downwind to the flowery bush as Selvia laughed and clapped and praised the pup for its tenacity in the chase when suddenly it stopped. Its head and upper body flattened to the ground, its ears sharply back as it snarled. The wolf hiding behind the bush lunged forward and closed its jaws on the puppy’s head as the latter yelped. The puppy was killed instantly. The wolf tossed its broken, lifeless body into the air to snatch it between its slavering fangs to gobble it down.

 

That was its snack. It turned its yellow eyes to Selvia, shivering in fear and sadness as the monster approached. She was too scared to move, frozen solid with fear. Her life would end as that of her puppy- between the teeth of the wolf.

 

A thrown branch landed on the wolf. It turned and snarled, its attention drawn from the harmless prey of the girl to the thing that dared attack it. This was a threat that had to be dealt with.

 

Janus leapt onto the path. He was strong and rangy, not unlike a human counterpart to the deadly wolf.  The wolf knew danger, but was hungry. The puppy had only stoked its ravenous appetite. He snarled, and lunged to the girl’s surprised gasp.

 

Janus was quick. He leapt over the wolf, his hands landing on the wolf’s head to drive it face first into the dirt while his body leapt the creature. The wolf spun in place, impossibly fast, but Janus expected that, almost willed it. The wolf turned in time to meet the solid end of the thick branch. The makeshift club stunned the wolf but momentarily, before if regained its wits and backed away. Patience was its weapon now. Patience and cunning. The humans could not remain vigilant forever.

 

Selvia cried silently, tears falling for her gallant little puppy, while Janus kept his place between her and the wolf. When the wolf moved, circled, so did he. He had the branch in his hand, his only weapon. Soon, however, he acquired another as his movements brought him to a loose stone. Now he had two weapons.

 

The wolf was cunning, and experienced. He knew a human with a stone could smash its head. He feared not a human with a wooden stick, but hard stone was another matter. He lunged and dodged, hoping to get the human to throw its most potent weapon, but the human must have played this game before. Janus refused to throw.

 

The scent of a deer running past reached the wolf. He growled lowly, acknowledging he lost this game, and went in pursuit of easier meat. It backed away, then turned and followed the cloying scent of venison on the hoof.

 

Selvia flew into the arms of Janus, crying her grief over her lost puppy, and the relief of his rescue. Her arms clung to him like ivy does an old tower, and his wrapped around her gently, providing her a safe haven to air her sorrows. Her tears dried up as her mourning changed inside her to something else, something strange and powerful. Her puppy was gone, but her savior was here, by her side, protecting her as he always had ever since that day five years before when she first saw him in the rain with his parents, seeking shelter from the storm.

 

Now her heart was in storm, strange desires and unfamiliar currents rolling through her veins. She was no longer in control of herself, her body. Her eyes lifted from his shoulder to lock onto his. She felt herself pulling his lips to hers, though she did not know why she did this, or even wanted it. It was as if Dibella had crawled within her to make her a puppet.

 

Janus held her, and when she lifted her head to kiss him, he too could not resist the urge to lower his lips upon her full, red ones. He knew it was improper, and even wrong, for him to take any liberties with the landlord’s daughter, yet how could he not? His limbs were no longer his own, his lips firmly swallowed by hers. He felt himself drowning in her embrace, lost in her kiss.

 

Worse for him, there were stirrings below his belt. He had felt them before, but never this powerful, this potent. Blood surged into his nether regions, filling his manhood and swelling it from a limp sausage to a mighty staff. It slithered and unfolded to its full length within his sack-cloth pants, but with Selvia’s hips pressed against his, she felt the movement too.

 

He could feel her nipples hardening through her light, white summer dress. She no longer had tiny sweetrolls ready to rise at a bakers touch. They had risen, those marvelous globes of hers, and were now proud muffins ready to be sampled.

 

His hand found one of them . She gasped at his touch; he quickly withdrew the offending hand. But that was not her intention, her desire. She put his hand back where it was, and this time sighed satisfied at its touch.

 

So many emotions were running through the poor lad now. His upbringing had taught him to be respectful and gentle, to follow the ways of society. His body was raging with desire, urging him to give in and take this woman who offered herself to him so freely. The two collided inside him in a  titanic struggle, each seeking to gain the upper hand and drive his actions.

 

Selvia too was in turmoil. She was brought up to follow rules as well- to comport herself as befitting the gentry, to keep herself pure for marriage, and to be a dutiful daughter so later a dutiful wife. Yet this young god had leapt between her and certain death as he had her and torture at her brother’s hand. He was always her shield, despite the ridicule she helped heap upon him as suited his station as a tenant farmer and her a landholder’s daughter.

 

His touch upon her breast was a magnet drawing her into him. It excited her, and calmed her at the same time. He wanted her, and at that moment, she wanted nothing more than him, and him to want her. That touch was confirmation he felt the same, so even more the worse when he so quickly abandoned it. She took his hand and put it back, teaching him her will. This time the hand stayed, and through her soft dress, massaged her hardened nipple and the firm globe upon which it sat.

 

Their tongues exchanged visits, darting into the other’s abode and curling atop one another. The effect was electric, binding them. Their breathing grew rapid, and their pulse as well. Their hearts were beating as if they had run from the Imperial City,churning and pumping blood through their bodies at an incredible rate.

 

Selvia could not help but notice the stirrings she caused in Janus. She was pressing against him as much as he was her. His touch on her breast galvanized her into action. She suddenly knew what she wanted. Him. She doubted he knew what he wanted- he was taught his whole life to stick to his own kind, his own level. She decided to descend to his level. It was the only way she could get what she wanted, who she wanted. Her hand found his rope belt and untied it. His pants fell to the ground, releasing a hardened shaft to press against her soft middle. Her hands found it there and touched it.

 

He gasped at her touch as had she at his touch of her breast. She gripped him, then stroked him. Her eyes were closed and her lips glued to his, their tongues intertwining, yet she noticed every whimper of pleasure and every grunt of displeasure. Very soon she learned what pleased him, and what did not.

 

Janus reached behind her to untie the ribbon holding her dress in place. It loosened, and she shook her torso to let it fall, revealing her svelte body and its magnificent pair of sweetrolls. His hands caressed her naked breast now, marveling at its firm form and soft skin.  He had never touched anything quite so soft or wonderful before.

 

She lifted the hem of his homespun shirt then, releasing his rod to spring back to attention as she removed the coarse fabric. Its sticky fibers stung her sensitive, gentle breasts. She could not have that.

 

Their kiss broke as the shirt passed between their lips. It came off to be tossed aside, while the two looked upon one another as if for the first time. Selvia had long, light brown hair that fell past her shoulders to cover her breasts in a cloud of curls. Janus had a muscular chest that narrowed down his flat belly to where a thick, tall tree rose from the down of his furry blonde forest.

 

They came together again, not as children playing, but as lovers needing each other. Selvia’s hand wrapped around her lover’s penis and fondled it lovingly. His hands caressed her magnificent breasts then glided down along the smooth, soft skin of her abdomen to where her legs met. She opened them slightly with a soft moan, as he massaged first one thigh than the other. Her heartbeat shuddered and rose as his fingers found her mound and the juicy opening beneath.

 

She gasped, her body writhing. His touch was unlike anything she had ever felt before. He paused, then at her kiss resumed. He knew what he was doing. His parents did this occasionally and their house had but a single room.

 

Selvia had no idea apart from what she read in books. She knew only that his touch was electric, and that she wanted him. How or in which way was still a mystery, but one which was slowly unraveling as his fingers rubbed and massaged her intimate parts.

 

There was a slight gasp of pain as he slipped a finger inside. This was unexpected, and nearly catastrophic for the budding relationship. He did not mean to cause her pain, nor had he ever seen his mother react to his father’s touch that way. She, on the other hand, was enjoying his touch until she felt a knife enter her belly. A fiery knife. Her desire died almost immediately, but not quite.

 

“I did not mean to hurt you, milady,” Janus said quietly.

 

Her hand was still on his rod. The pain subsided, and the scent of her own juices brushed her nose as a small breeze carried it to her nostrils. She realized she was gripping him hard now, and that he said not a word, though she was sure she was causing him some terrible pain. She relaxed her hand and with her other hand, drew him back down beside her.

 

His finger felt like silk now. The pain had ebbed, retreating back like the demon it was from the glory of his touch. She reveled in his touch, his manipulations, his massaging of her proud breasts, lovely thighs, and things in between. And she loved how his manhood felt in her hand, so rigid, so smooth, so powerful.

 

She did not know what came over her. She started to kiss his neck, and his chest, and when he laid back, she continued kissing him down his body until she came to that steely snake and kissed it as well. She took the head in her mouth as she had read women of the backstreets of the Imperial City  often do, and bobbed her head as she thought they did.

 

Janus moaned as his manhood disappeared between her ruby lips. He had seen his mother do this to his father, and knew it was supposed to be wonderful. Father was always so nice the day after. Yet this…  Too fast. And too little. It was strange, off, and not causing the reaction he had seen in his father. So he placed his hands upon her head, slowing her bobbing, and easing her down further onto his shaft before releasing her to slide back up.

 

Selvia understood, and followed suit. Janus moaned in pure delight as she teased him, caressed him, and sucked him. She found her grip was getting wet, and when she moved her hand, his pleasure doubled. So she started sucking and sliding together, using her other hand to hold taut the skin of his penis so she could slide with more effect.

 

She got the effect she wanted. Janus grunted once and went stiff as a basilisk as her tightened lips slid up and down his slick shaft within the suction of her cheeks. She thought his reaction so wonderful and so continued to do so, deeper now, tighter. And when he came, he did so powerfully and without warning. One minute he was locked rigid as his muscles spasmed, the next he was a ragdoll as his seed gushed forth.

 

Selvia was caught by surprise by his ejaculation. It hit the back of her mouth and surged forward. She swallowed by reflex, but there was too much. His seed spilled out, and she coughed as she nearly gagged.

 

He was a limp ragdoll, in every way. Had the wolf chosen to return at that moment, it would have had two easy kills. Selvia did not care. She had pleased him, incredibly so, and turned the mighty warrior into a cripple who could only swoon in delight. She felt powerful, completely in control.

 

For a while she was. She cuddled beside Janus and settled into his arms. She was content with what she had brought forth, and the way she had so completely drained him of energy and will. She wondered briefly if that as the thrill of vampirism- the complete domination of others.

 

Janus enjoyed her warmth and her presence. The sensation she had given him had run its course, leaving behind a craving for more, without the ability to do anything about it. It was a most satisfying and most frustrating feeling at the same time. Her touch was gone, but not forgotten as she held him in the warm summer sunshine.

 

He kissed her then, a deep kiss filled with love. She too kissed him, filled with love, and joy at being loved. And desire. She wanted him, and he wanted her. Their kiss became more passionate, and then it was Janus kissing his way down the slender, soft body of Selvia. Her legs parted as he paused, spreading to reveal a dark triangle of fur covering a split. He kissed his way there, and once her fur was brushed aside, his lips met her lower lips and parted them.

 

Selvia arched in panicked delight. Janus pushed her hips back down and continued to probe her lower opening with his tongue, rolling its tip over every knob and nodule he came across. He found one place that when he applied suction, drove her mad with panting and huffing. He played with that for a while, then moved on to the next hot spot.

 

Selvia bucked and thrashed, but his tongue was there to stay. She moaned forcefully now, caught between the desire for more and the wrongness of what he was doing. Her breathing grew rapid and shallow, her pulse rising quickly as he tongued her, driving her wild with his touch. Her heart spiked, and she eked out a small yelp as something powerful, something unknown gripped her spirit and ripped it from her body to toss her into Aetherius.

 

She regained her senses to find him lying beside her still, a silly grin plastered across his face.

 

“What?” she asked playfully. By the Nine she felt so relaxed, so comfortable, so happy. She found the feeling disturbingly satisfying. She hoped she could feel that way forever.

 

“It pleases me that I could pleasure you as you did me,” he said truthfully.

 

She thought that the sweetest thing. She pulled him close and kissed him deeply.

 

In retrospect, that was probably not the smartest thing for her to do at that moment. Her kiss reached inside him and re-awakened the demon lurking there. His blood rose in tempo and pressure, filling the void she had recently so expertly drained. Desire raced through him.

 

And through her as well. Memories of his touch, and his tongue upon her lower regions tore through her as his tongue wrestled with hers. Her juices began flowing again, and her body responded with a powerful and unrelenting desire to have this man.

 

He felt the passion as well. It bit at him, tearing his resolve, consuming his conditioned control to free the beast within. He felt her hardening nipples, and smelled her rising desire as her scent escaped the confines of her inner lips to ride the slight breeze. Her heart was pounding now, as was his. He felt a now-familiar stirring and knew his cock was coming alive again. Her spittle still cloaked its thin skin, mixed with the remnants of the seed he so recently released. His little man remembered that, and with the scent of her rising again, wanted more.

 

Selvia moaned as her hand moved on its own volition. It sought out his manhood, and once it found it, lovingly slid its gentle grip along the rigid shaft. She felt his member throb as it stiffened under her touch. The knowledge that she was causing this massive member to rise to such size and strength rode her without mercy. She gloried in it.

 

Janus was losing his mind under her touch. His desire drew a red curtain before his eyes. He no longer saw, or heard, or smelled. He only felt. Her touch, her breathing, her rising heartbeat, her lips upon his neck. His hands sought her breasts, found the high and nipples hard. Then her hips, so lovely and bare. Her thighs, so shapely and spread. Her vulva, so dripping and ready. He slid a finger inside, easily this time, to rub that little knob inside from behind.

 

Selvia shook in sudden pleasure. Her whole being quaked with sudden passion as yet another orgasm ripped through her. She came in a sudden spasm of intense pleasure, crying out in her passion, and arching her back to get more and more of this wonderful feeling before the Release came and plummeted her from the height of passion to the bottom of the Pit of Ultimate Relaxation.

 

She dropped back limp, completely drained, completely blissful. Her body was completely sated, her mind swimming in the Afterglow of Release.  She had cum, powerfully and fully,  for a second time in as many hours.

 

She would cum a third time. Janus had pleasured her beyond her wildest imaginations, yet he himself was now saddled with a raging erection that demanded attention. He was no longer his own man, but a slave to his body. Selvia lay beside him with her legs spread and her eyes closed. It was too inviting, too difficult to resist. He could not stop if he wanted. He rolled onto his hands and knees and crawled over her leg to lay atop her.

 

Her eyes flew open. All that had been drilled into her since birth said she should avoid this moment until properly married. Culture and conditioning struck her repeatedly, rebelling against what was happening. Her father’s disappointment was a slap in the face; her mother’s sadness at her ruined daughter excruciatingly plain to see. Selvia did not care, not now. She threw her arms around his shoulders and held onto him as her rock through the storm that was coming.

 

He found her opening after a few probatory thrusts, seeking a home inside her and not finding one until suddenly one thrust sank the head inside. She gasped as he found her slot, and held him close as he began slowly sinking further inside her virgin womanhood. There was some pain, but none like she had felt an hour or two ago. This pain was not a burning sensation, but rather one of taut stress, like when Granny pinched her cheek and drew it out. Only this was inside, and countered by a warm feeling she had never experienced.

 

It helped that he did not push continually, but eased out in between pushes. This coated his member  and her lips with her juices, lubricating them both as he worked it in and out. There were no longer little pinches as dry skin rubbed against one another biting and pulling. Now it was firm pleasure, his bulging penis gliding effortlessly into her tight vagina,  over and over again as they rocked to each other’s rhythm.

 

Selvia thrust her hips forward aimlessly and wriggling, but soon learned back and forth was better for both, and best when in time to his motion. He, in turn, noticed her movements and reactions to him, and discovered what pleased her and what did not. He then concentrated on what pleasedher while she did that to him.

 

They rocked the forest with their love. His plunging piston worked her virgin womanhood over grandly, eliciting grunt after groan from the landholder’s daughter as he rode her from one climactic orgasm to the next. Her cries of passion and joy went unheard, which was probably for the better, but not for lack of volume. Selvia came massively, repeatedly, as her lover sank into her again and again. She eagerly pulled him in, over and over.

 

Pure joy.

 

At last his rhythm increased. He was pumping her frightfully now, his cock barely pulling halfway out before slamming forward so that his balls rang against her anus. She could feel his body tensing and remembered that feeling from before. Yet there was nothing she could do except dig her nails into his ass to pull him in deeper and deeper, and lock her legs around his so he could not escape.

 

They were fucking furiously now, so deep in passion that they cared not what happened next. It was only them in the world, Man and Woman. Nothing else. He tilted his hips slightly in response to a movement of hers. His throbbing penis was steel now, rubbing along her clitoris as it buried itself inside her sweet, silky hole again and again. That drove her mad with rapture, triggering in her a massive orgasm that once again catapulted her into Aetherius and Ultimate Bliss.

 

Her vagina clenched and spasmed in response to the massive orgasm ripping through her. Her nails dug in, and her legs pulsed with pleasure. It was too much. With a cry of passion, Janus drove his penis deep inside her as her body tried to swallow him, shooting forth a geyser of seed into the willing body of the woman beneath him. Her pussy sucked on his rod, draining it of every last drop as her orgasm passed its apex, and her cries of passion descended to whimpers of pleasure.  He sighed loudly as his sperm exited his body to be absorbed by Selvia beneath him.

 

He collapsed atop her as she held him close. Her arms still gripped him tightly, her legs as well, though her womanhood now ejected his limp member. The two did not care. Those parts had done their job well.

 

The two lovers lay in each other arms for an eternity, enjoying the warmth and scent of the other, and the closeness they now shared, brought upon by the aftermath of what they just did. Neither regretted it, nor thought of the future. Or the past. This was a thing of the present, to be enjoyed now.

 

Afterwards, they returned to their normal lives, now dismal by comparison. It would be several weeks before the two found each other in the woods alone again, but when they did, it was but a smile and a touch before they were again in each other’s arms repeating this event. Then it was a weekly thing, then twice a week. They could not get enough of each other, finding the flimsiest excuses to shirk  the weeding of the southern field, or avoid the ball thrown by the local baron. All that mattered to the two were each other, and the secret love they shared.

 

Their love was not as secret as they had thought. It never is. Carola noticed a new scent in her son’s clothing when she washed. Milus had seen the way his son’s eyes caressed the lord’s daughter as she passed. Selvia’s mother noticed the new joy in her daughter’s laughter, and the way her eyes lingered on the southern fields. Her father was oblivious, of course, or Janus would have found himself a head shorter, but her brothers did notice their sister no longer cared about their teasing of her, or their childish ways, or even if they breathed. There was something about her that was different, but they could not place it.

 

It was the happiest time of her life, that summer. She gloried in their hidden love, and fawned the little signs of romance he left her- a dried flower here, a fresh grape there. To others it could simply be carelessness on the maid’s part, but she knew it was Janus who planted the small treats where only she could find them. Her heart swam in joy.

 

Then came the autumn, and with it a turn for the worst that shattered her very existence and crushed her spirit. Her world collapsed in upon itself. Imperial recruiters came, led by a captain. They had orders to pick up a recruit from this landhold, as required by Imperial directive. Her brother Fedor was slotted to go- as a second son, he would never inherit. He had the choice of joining the Church, or joining the Legion. That was his fate, his destiny. And Fedor was no priest.

 

Yet at that moment, Fedor knew he was no soldier either. He was a bully and brave in games, but a coward in reality. He feared the Death that will come for us all, and thus at that moment he decided to become a priest of Arkay. Older brother Regius was heir to the land, and thus immune to the far-reaching claws of the Legion. That left fifteen old tenant farmers, the youngest of whom was a fifty-year old greybeard, and Janus.

 

Selvia wailed in pure terror as the soldiers seized her lover and carried him to the recruit wagon. Their mission fulfilled and their quota met, the recruiters drove away, taking her life with them.

 

It was as if a light went out. At once the landhold was dim and cold, no longer the warm home it was. The manse was hollow, the lord and his lady grim and dour. Fedor was killed by a minotaur on his way to the Chapel of Arkay at Cheydinhal, and Regius was thrown from his horse. His neck broke on impact. He did not die, but the doctors say there is little they can do. He will never walk or lift a glass again. And her moon stopped visiting. She gulped and clasped her hands to her belly, and repeated that whenever she was sad, which was often lately. Somehow, feeling the life growing inside her, the life she and Janus made, made her feel better. It was her one moment of happiness.

 

Now she stared out of the window rimed with frost as winter gave way to spring. She can no longer conceal her pregnancy from her mother, and dared not reveal it to her father. Her would have her slain out of disgrace. But mother would understand. It was the only chance of a grandchild she would ever have.

 

Selvia stared, hoping to see her lover come riding up the long tree-lined road leading to the landhold, proud in his uniform and bedecked in Imperial Armor. At the same time she feared seeing a Legionary approach, a man unknown and unknowable under his Legionary Armor, bringing word to the hold that their recruit has been killed and they need to provide another.

 

So she stared, not knowing why she stared, and feared for her lover’s life as their child grew within her.

 

 

 

 

 

 

[Trippy_the_Squirrel]

Good story.   And not a mere fabliau, pure smut, either. 

 

Time for you to put a bookcase in Casta's cellar, and start stocking it with these books.

 

Cheers,

 

T.