"Dancer's Dream Lover"
My Strap-on Tales
Lady Gwyneth d’Lambert, paladin of the Holy Cathedral of Alastriel and the elf Cockweasel readied their weapons as a dozen bandits burst from the advantage of the Plant of Dagindor. Gwyneth had rescued Cockweasel from his disturbing mistress, the vile sorceress Valeria the Black, and the two had escaped on horseback to the village of Crompton. There they had rescued a kidnapped farmer’s daughter from an evil troll and then they had traveled on to the jungle where they once again found their lives in hazard.
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Gwyneth ran the first outlaw through before he had a opportunity to even swing his sword, but the noble knight was then obligatory backwards as she found herself under harm from four opponents.
Off to the side one of the bandits had grabbed their two horses and was already preliminary to ride left with them. They were in serious tribulation.
The goblin’s mugger leveled the place of his blade truthfully at Cockweasel’s throat.
“Surrender knight! Or your companion dies!” the outlaw yelled at Gwyneth.
The paladin glanced over and saw Cockweasel with the sword at his throat and she immediately stopped fighting.
As the bandit was about to resolve there was a crash from the forest. Two bandits the minute fell, arrows in their backs.
When four centaurs, partly men-half horse, burst from the forests boundary the remaining six bandits the moment fled. From the waist down they were appeared to be regular, perhaps slightly better than average domestic animals. From the waist up they were person, three males and one female, their chests bare. Even in his scare Cockweasel couldn’t help but admire the firm tanned breasts on the female centaur.
“Greenthorn?” Gwyneth said in surprise towards the chief male. “And now I’ve in the end had my probability to repay my blood debt to you. Six years ahead Gwyneth had saved the sizeable centaurs life and under his people’s beliefs he to be paid her a blood debt, which had in conclusion been settled these days.
“So what brings you to Dagindor?” Greenthorn asked. He eyed Cockweasel dubiously, “and with a elf in tow, no less.”
“Not inevitably,” Greenthorn said with a grin. “We can take you.”
“Ride on your backs? She was never really if the centaurs in reality allowed riders.
“Of classes.”
Gwyneth smiled.” she held as Greenthorn reached down and helped end her up onto his back. Cockweasel promptly moved to the female centaur, before either of the other two could get him. The nice-looking horse-woman helped him up onto her back.
“I’m called Forestwind,” she told him as he seized onto her hips and pressed against her back. She had slow light brown pelt that hung right down her back and felt incredibly easy against Cockweasel’s countenance.
“Cockweasel’s the name,” the goblin replied.
Greenthorn gave a shout and they were off. The centaurs galloped through the reforest at an incredible regularity.
“At this regularity we’ll reach Alastriel now!” Gwyneth understood in amazement as she seized tightly onto Greenthorn’s back. With a minor moan the goblin lifted his hands to Forestwind’s mid-sized tits, cupping his palms over the very steady mounds of flesh and benevolent the tender orbs a passionate squeeze. The centaur snorted slightly at his probing hands, but did not bring to a halt or remove his hands so Cockweasel unrelenting to squeeze her breasts. He kneaded the around mounds, feeling her challenging nipples jut against the focal point of his palms. Her breasts were minor than Gwyneths, but no skepticism if they were overly generously proportioned they would bounce wildly as she galloped. As it was he could believe the full jugs jiggling in his hands. The goblin pinched and tugged at Forestwind’s nipples, reaction the hard barely nubs grow ever stiffer. His hands then once again blocked completely over her breasts and he massaged the lovely mounds lustfully.
They rode the centaurs through the woodland for two hours, Cockweasel spent the first partially hour constantly before a live audience with Forestwind’s spry boobs. They bid their centaur friends goodbye outside the gates, Cockweasel philanthropic Forestwind one last squeeze before he dismounted.
“We’ll head to a lovely inn I be knowledgeable about that’s close to here,” Gwyneth told her imp companion. “Then I necessary to head out and experience with some contacts of mine. Will you be satisfactory alone tonight?”
“I’m really I can entertain myself,” Cockweasel replied as he followed the good-looking paladin through the encrusted streets of the lofty city. As they walked Cockweasel was gazed around with his backtalk wide open. This was the first time he had been to a big city and there were various sights to be seen. He was bowled over to even spot a handful of goblins amongst the full of life city crowds.
The hotel that Gwyneth took them to was called the ‘Prancing Zebra’ and seemed much nicer than the area they had stayed at in Crompton Village. The tavern-keeper greeted Gwyneth by name and they were the moment taken up to what he held was the most excellent room in the ‘Zebra’.
Gwyneth the minute took off her chain mail and weapons and got changed into a protracted, bright blue dress. Cockweasel’s eyes went somewhat wide as the good-looking knight stripped off in front of him, showing no modesty as his look feasted on her pleasingly curved body. He didn’t get as skilled a look as he would have liked however, as she hurriedly put on the dress. “Try not to get into any trouble.”
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