One Day In Surewould Forest Ch. 01

Some days it's no fun being the leader of a band of slightly merry men, and a few very merry maidens. Oh and of course there are the odd few who really can't decide. Getting good tights is nearly impossible too, they either ladder when climbing trees or they get caught on my sword or my quiver full of arrows. But there are times when life has its good points.

Take last week for instance. Big John, he's the dwarf, was trying to teach Lusty Dangler, the jester, how to fire a bow and arrow without almost killing himself in the process. It was long, slow work, mainly because Lusty kept forgetting to take the safety off his bow.

It was such a laugh watching him trying to remember that the pointy end of the arrow went at the front, and the feathery bit went at the back. I decided that the safest place to stand was right in front of him. This became obvious after Stan, who was standing behind them got shot in the ass.

I worry about Stan. He has this habit of wearing a maiden's silken slip and keeps insisting that he's the devil incarnate. I don't know how much credence to give his claims, but the cloven hooves, the horns and the pointy tail are causing quite a commotion. I'm not sure what breed his dogs are but I'm sure the red eyes aren't all that common.

We're never stuck for entertainment round the fire in our secret camp. I hope I'm safe in saying it's just on the outskirts of Littingham. The town itself is ok but some of the inhabitants are just downright weird. More of them later, though. Our resident minstrel is a strange little person who goes by the name of Maid Moron. The lads and I wonder whether she really is a maiden or not under her raiment, and we can't understand what the hell she's done to her shoes.

As you can imagine, when you live in the forest like we do the ground is a little messy underfoot and we can't decide if she can't afford shoes as regularly as the rest of us because she has made the heels tower over the ground with spiky things at least 15 inches high. She totters about like someone possessed, and it doesn't help that she is never seen without a flagon of mead that she sips. Oh, no quaffing for that one. Proper stuck up she is. But I suppose the heels keep her feet away from the ever-present danger that is Stan's dogs' crap. It sits on the ground, steaming and if you look closely at it you'd swear you could see fire in it. I don't know what Stan feeds them but it can't be healthy.

And her nails. Every time you see her she's doing something to them. Either picking dirt out of them with one of the dozens of weapons she keeps hidden in her garments, or applying some sort of coloured mud to them with a stick. We think she uses the dogs' crap mixed with woad and the blood of the animals we kill for food. Weird.

We had a really good haul the other day. Lillian Rose, she's the clever one in the gang. Always scribbling on some bit of parchment or other. No idea what she writes but they appear to be stories. All I know is its bloody entertaining when she tells us tales. Well she heard that a royal coach would be coming through Surewould Forest the following day, loaded down with gold and precious gems and stuff. Now that's not something we hear on a regular basis so we decided to check it out.

Lusty and Big John took up positions in a couple of trees by the side of the trail, Maid Moron didn't want to get involved as she was worried about chipping a nail or some such excuse. We figured the voices in her head told her not to go. Said it was the voice of Billy Magnet or Business Manager or something like that, we didn't hear her properly through her drunken ramblings.

Stan was just by the side of the trail with one of his dogs. Bloody great black thing with teeth like a tiger, spittle dripping from its' mouth, setting fire to the grass as it hit the ground. Its' little red beady eyes looking full of harm and hatred for the world in general. It wears a leather collar with 2 inch metal studs on it, with a little metal disc, on which Stan has scratched the word, 'Tinkerbell'. We had a good laugh at that and said he should call it Fluffy instead.

There were a few more of the lads scattered about behind various bushes and trees. Dale Tufare, (we think he's French) was nearly peeing his pants he was so scared, and Lillian kept jumping from behind a bush and tickling him to try and speed up the process so we could all have a good laugh when the inevitable happened.

We waited most of the morning, figuring the tip-off we got was wrong when Lusty spotted the coach from his perch in the tree and gave a bird call to warn the rest of us. He said it was the noise a penguin made but it sounded more like a cat trying to go to the toilet through a sewn up bum. Anyway, sure enough the coach came round the last corner before our ambush and we all jumped out from hiding.

As Stan held the coach at a standstill with the help of Tinkerbell we all had a bloody good laugh at Dale. Yup, he peed himself. We knew he would as he always does. So we had stopped it. Cool. Now all we had to do was see if it actually did contain the riches we were promised it would. It had the crest of the Sheriff of Littingham on each door, just above the go-faster stripe.

As the rest of the lads went to look in the boot of the coach I swaggered (I'm good at that. I practice) to the door and yanked it open. Looking at me was a lady. Wow, she was stunning, dressed in the finest silk gown I had ever seen. She had pearls at her throat and a diamond studded thing on her head. She looked a right posh bird and loaded to boot.

I took off my hat with a flourish, bowed low and said, 'Good morning milady, Throbbin Wood at your service. Please don't be alarmed, we aren't going to harm you, despite what we appear to have done to your coachmen, although I admit, in years to come, and after the invention of accident and emergency procedures, future coachmen may survive. Unfortunately, yours didn't'.

She looked scared, but also a little flushed as she tried to hide behind her lace fan. She was looking at me over the top and I swear she was checking me out. After all, these tights don't hide much and it had been some time since, well, you know.

'Might I enquire as to your name milady?' I asked. God, I can be a right charmer when I put my mind to it, then I flashed her my best smile.

'I am The Lady Lorna,' she replied. 'Can you tell me the purpose of this interruption to my journey?'

I excused myself and shouted to the lads that I was going to accompany the lady inside the carriage and they were to take it back to our secret camp where we could loot it properly. They bitched and moaned as usual, complaining that they had to walk while I rode but I just told them it was tough and to get on with it.

I moved back to the side of the coach and climbed in, closing the door after me. I looked at her as I sat opposite her and gave her my number two smile, the disarming one. 'I apologise for the rude interruption milady but we are confiscating your coach and its' contents and donating them to a better cause'.

'You mean, you're giving them to the poor?'

'Poor? Milady, do I look like a wealthy man? No, we are the poor who will benefit from it, let the other rabble fend for themselves and do their own dirty work. No, we will take the gold and other valuables, chop the coach up for firewood, this forest is protected you know, and we will feed from the horses. And Stan's dogs can have the bones'.

'And what of me, a defenseless maiden, alone in the world with no-one to protect me from ruffians like you?' She almost cried.

'Ruffian? Me?' I smiled, 'Oh milady, that's a bit harsh. I may live in the forest, surrounded by a band of outlaws but I'm certainly no ruffian'.

I removed my hat as she lowered her fan and my first impression was right, she was gorgeous. Her skin was the colour of finest marble, without the veiny bits running through it, her eyes sparkled and her rich, full lips pouted slightly. I'm not ashamed to say I felt a stirring in the confines of my tights.

'And as for you Milady Lorna, I think I may claim you as my spoils from this escapade, you would make a pretty prize and no mistake'. As I spoke I leant forward, reached out a hand and touched the soft, smooth skin of her cheek. It felt like the smoothest velvet under my fingertips and as my fingers caressed, she let out a tiny gasp. Whether of shock or pleasure I wasn't sure. My eyes fell to her bosom, revealed above the neckline of her gown, surprised to see it heaving slightly, and a very pleasant sight it was too.

My hand moved from her face and fell to where my eyes lingered, the skin of her bosom every bit as soft, although warmer than her face. She let out another little gasp as my fingers roamed over her skin and as I let them drop to the lace of her bodice her eyes went wide. I just had to pull the lace and see what happened. I'm glad I did, as upon releasing it her breasts fell forward and I heard her sigh softly. That must have been damn tight; the poor girl could hardly breathe.

'Is that more comfortable milady?' I asked, my eyes looking into hers, gratified to see a hunger there that must have matched my own.

She said nothing, just trapped her bottom lip between her teeth and raised a hand to her face. I slowly pulled the lace undone, revealing more flesh as I did, until I had it all released. I let my hand move inside her bodice and found a very swollen nipple that, as I rolled it between finger and thumb seemed to grow even more. Her little gasp had changed into a low growl, right in the back of her throat as I felt her hand close over my wrist and gently move it so I could do the same to her other nipple as I did to the first.

'Why milady, it appears you find this pleasurable', I said, smiling. 'Perhaps I can do something equally as pleasurable with my other hand?' I let it move to gather up her gown, raising it up her legs until I could feast my eyes on her stockings, adorned with pink garters covered in roses at the tops. She surprised me by holding her gown so my hand was free to move unencumbered.

Her bloomers were of the finest silk and so cool to the touch as my fingers moved across them, my other hand still busy inside her bodice, alternating from one nipple to the other and back. I pulled at the front of her garments and felt it open wider as the carriage started moving over the uneven ground. With no thought of anyone or anything else I buried my face between her breasts and feasted on the soft flesh.

The movement of the carriage caused my mouth to never linger long in one place as we were jostled within. My hand now pressed with more urgency at the front of her silk bloomers, aware of her heat and moisture. Losing myself in her heady scent I reached to my belt, drew my dagger and cut the silk away from her, exposing her wet centre to my hungry eyes. As she felt the air on her she let out a low moan from deep in her throat.

I stood as best I could within the confines of the carriage, bracing myself with my shoulders against the roof and tugged down my breeches and my tights, exposing my swollen manhood to her gaze, her eyes wide at the sight. Hey, so I'm a big lad. It comes from living outdoors and getting lots of healthy exercise. Looking down on her and the way she looked at me I said, 'Does the sight please you milady?'

'Oh, Master Wood, it pleases me greatly', she replied as she reached out a tiny hand and tried, without success to get her fingers to meet around my shaft. Then, with no warning she leant forward, opened her rich, red lips and took the head into her mouth, sucking hard on it as she swirled her tongue around and under the ridge, slowly taking more and more into her soft, warm mouth, causing me to make a low, guttural noise.

The rocking of the carriage was making it difficult for me to stand so I sat, my manhood leaving her mouth with a plop. She wasted no time in moving to kneel on the floor of the carriage and resume her ministrations to my solid member. Her mouth was so hungry on me; her cheeks sucked in and blew out in a wonderful rhythm, making my manhood even harder and thicker than before.

My hands moved to the back of her head, encouraging her to try and take more of me into her, feeling the tip of my member nudging the back of her throat until, with a convulsion of her throat she opened up and took me entirely into her mouth. What a feeling overtook me as her throat worked, causing ripples to seem to flow along the length of my shaft, her hands cupping the heavily laden sacs beneath, squeezing gently.

Oh, the sensations she was giving me. The feeling of being almost sucked in completely, while at the same time feeling fit to burst. I could feel it was all becoming too much for me as with a yell I emptied myself into her throat, feeling her milking me as she sucked and massaged my manhood with her wonderful mouth. My very essence flowed into her, then ran from her lips as I offered her more than she could accept, my head spinning with the sheer passion of the moment.

Gradually I softened and felt myself slip from her lips as she licked them to retrieve the last drops of me that still remained. She looked at me with a wicked glint in her eye and whispered, 'And does that please you Master Wood?'

I looked at her, smiled and replied, 'Oh yes, my Lady Lorna, it pleases me greatly. Most greatly'.

Then it was back to reality and the fact that me and the gang had ripped off a damn great coach and its' contents, two horses and kidnapped a Lady of the Sheriff of Littingham's court. But as I sat there, sated, looking at the lovely Lady Lorna, the same thought crossed my mind as had crossed it on many other occasions. 'Fuck it, it'll all come out in the wash'.