Hawthorne Ch. 01

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A fantasy story of voyeurism.
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Ch.1 Not Alone

Hawthorne looked up, eying the area around her with blatant curiosity. The young wild elf had been walking for what seemed like days, all in an attempt to flee the overbearing Matriarchy of the Temple of Rathelle. Yes the priestesses had been good and kind in raising her and her older sister, but she was tired of the dreariness of seclusion. No outside contact, no males anywhere. It was enough to drive a young girl crazy. She was eighteen now, all she wanted was a life of her own, so she had taken her chance and run. Sure, it was likely that they would come after her, but that was neither here nor now, which was what really mattered.

Stretching her nubile young body, she decided that it was time for a rest. The Temple was over a day away now, and she could hide better than anyone. She finished stretching and decided that a day's worth of trail grit was far too much, so, pert little nose in the air, she went in search of running water, her pointed ears flickering back and forth to pick up any noise. The stream wasn't far from the clearing where she had stopped, and she stripped off her dress, revealing that the intricate tattoo work on her arms, legs and face covered every inch of her brown skinned body. She let down her long green hair, finger combing it to get the worst of the tangles out before stepping gingerly into the frigid water. A small squeak escaped her lips and her dark brown nipples immediately hardened at the shock.

On the other bank of the stream Talar could not believe his luck. Here he was resting from a long night's hunt, and a veritable image of wild, naked, beauty stood before him. Though she was not Rekesh, her body art was almost as attractive as a fine pelt like he himself had. His rich red fur, striped in black and accented by his white belly made him a rather striking specimen among his own people. With cat-like grace he slunk closer to the water's edge, his tail lashing in nervous anticipation. The twenty-year old feline was not well versed in the ways of the unfurred, but he was fairly certain they didn't usually go about unclothed. He noted the differences between the elf's body and those of Rekesh females. The lack of hair made every part of her femininity stand out rather blatantly, making him uncomfortable beneath his loincloth, the only clothing he ever donned, unless entering battle.

Meanwhile Hawthorne had bent over low, dipping her hair into the water, before standing and flipping it over her back, full young breasts bouncing with the motion. Unlike her watcher, the elvish race were rather evident in their lack of body hair, allowing glistening pink lips to peek from the dark apex of her thighs. She let out a heavy breath, splashing water all over so that it beaded on her soft skin, trickling downward and pooling at the indents along her collar and hip bones. One of her ears flickered at a small sound, and with a squeal of glee she bounded a few meters down the stream to a small pool. Happily she sank into the water up to her breasts, completely unaware that she was being followed.

Comfortably ensconced in the chilly water, she leaned back, hands slowly drifting over her breasts and down her ribs. Surely she had time for a little energy boost.... Deftly one small brown hand plucked at an already rigid nipple, pulling and tugging as her other fingers worked they're magic on her pussy, strumming out a melody of small moans and chirps from the tattooed female as she varied direction and pressure. Yellow cats-eyes peered out of the bushes, keenly noting every motion, every breath as she slowly dipped first one, then two fingers into her hole, slowly pumping away at herself. Her other hand left her breast to rub at her clit as she finger fucked her pussy, her moans becoming faster and louder. Pinching at her clit, juices flowing out into the warm water of the pool, she slid a third finger into her pussy, pistoning the fingers in fast, furious motions as she neared completion. The young elf was bucking against her own hands in the clear water, writhing about under the pressure she was creating deep in her belly. Finally she went rigid, several small twitches travelling up her spine as she fell back against the stream bank, completely relaxed. She crawled up onto shore, curling up on a sunny rock for a quick nap before she headed back to her discarded dress.

Talar looked upon her small, nubile form and came to a conclusion. Slowly he slipped across the water, getting both his fur and loincloth wet, and picked up the sleeping wild elf. She didn't stir at all as he carried her away to his den.

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