Elf Boy's Friends - II
by George Gauthier
Chapter 8
Across the Border
The twins and Finn were happy for the young soon-to-be ex-teamster whom they had found to be intelligent and personable. The next day, Liam would take his coach eastward on his final run carrying the passengers waiting for him at the way station. He would quit his job once he reached Flensborg and travel to the capital.
Since Liam would need a place to stay, the twins wrote a letter of authorization for him to use their suite of rooms in their residential hotel. He would occupy the guest room and eat his meals at the hotel. It was all part of the service, including housekeeping and laundry.
Finn asked about money, but Liam was fine on that score. Except for what he was sending home to his family, he had been saving most of his wages. His work schedule did not allow much leisure time, and in a town like Flensborg, with a population of mostly Frost Giants, the amusements that might appeal to a young human male were limited.
"When you are in the capital you must visit Twinkle Town." Karel urged him. "It's fabulous!"
Jemsen elaborated:
"Twinkle Town takes its name from the cute twinks who are its primary denizens. Twinkle Town is a district or rather a cluster of drinking and dancing establishments favored by those who fancy pretty boys and by pretty boys who favor being fancied. You'll fit right in."
"You bet I will!"
The border of New Varangia was also the outer border of the Commonwealth of the Long River. Close by the way station and its outbuildings stood a small military post with stables and barracks that served the mounted constabulary and a handful of border guards who manned the post on rotation from Flensborg.
As yet no commerce was carried across the Commonwealth's new roads across New Varangia. The inhabitants of the flatlands beyond had never traded with the centaurs, nor had those creatures had any concept of transit rights. Nevertheless the border post was a tangible and visible affirmation of where the border lay, which would otherwise be a mere territorial claim or a line drawn on a map.
The next stage bound for the west would not leave for a couple of days, giving the travelers a break and a chance to rest. The twins hiked a way north of the road to a scenic pond in the middle of the woods that they had been told about. It was just the two of them, a chance for them to be with each other.
After a swim the twins laid down on the short grass on the verge of the pond. Overhanging boughs provided enough shade to soften the heat of the sun, though not enough to stop their sweating. Propped up on an elbow, Jemsen chatted desultorily with his brother till he realized that Karel had dozed off, making for a one-sided conversation. Jemsen didn't feel like a nap himself, so he settled for watching the ever changing shapes of the puffy white clouds above, all the while studying the beautiful body lying next to him.
The twin of his own, Karel's was the ideal human shape: slender, tanned, toned, and taut -- all sculpted musculature: strong shoulders, well defined abdominal muscles, and narrow hips. No hair interrupted the flow of its faultless lines. The wounds they had taken in the wars had healed completely, leaving no scars.
Jemsen was gratified that Karel's genitals (like his own) didn't have that shriveled look so many guys had. His cock was smooth not all gnarly with twisting veins. His genitals were reasonably sized though he wouldn't be scaring the horses. It took both of his hands to cover an erection, but only one when it was soft. That was just fine for a pair of youths given to running across the countryside bare ass naked with their dangly bits jouncing about.
Jemsen watched droplets of sweat form on Karel's smooth tanned skin, each drop glistening in the sunlight like a tiny diamond. Growing larger, the droplets broke the surface tension that had held them in place and slid downhill, merging and collecting in rivulets in the channel between the pectorals and at the bottom of the hollow between the rib cage and hips.
The first-born twin reached out to play with the sweat pooling in his brother's navel, tracing a circle with his index finger on that flat belly, finally bringing a taste of the salty fluid to his tongue. Next he pressed a spot on one side of Karel's belly to let the pool of sweat drain down his hip, only to watch the hollow slowly fill up again. This time he did not spill any of the salty fluid but lapped it up from his brother cum lover's navel then kissed away beads of sweat on forehead, cheeks, and the tip of the nose, ending with a light kiss to each of Karel's nipples.
Karel stirred a bit but dozed on oblivious of his brother's homage to his sex appeal, his comely face relaxed in sleep, like a slumbering angel, dreaming perhaps of love, his eyes twitching behind close lids. No one knew better than Jemsen what mischief could dance in those grey-blue eyes of his.
Is there anything more beautiful than a teenage boy in the bloom of youth? For that was what the twins were in all but strict chronology thanks to the druids and their life magic. Jemsen sighed, content with life and happy to just be with his beloved brother. In truth, all their lives they had never been any real distance apart, spending virtually every moment within earshot of each other. And he wouldn't want it any other way.
The next morning, it was with good feelings that the adventurers took the leave of their new friend and crowded aboard quite a different kind of coach from his, one clearly not built for Frost Giants. Rather than hunch over, Finn flipped open the top hatch and rode with his head outside the cab facing backwards so he wouldn't be hit in the face by the wind.
The twins wore sarongs, as always green for Jemsen and blue for Karel. Drew wore just the short trews from his expeditionary outfit. All three went unshod. No need for footgear riding in a coach. Finn was the only one fully dressed in shirt, trews, and sandals. They were the only passengers.
From atop the escarpment that marked the border with the flat lands below the passengers could see far across the flat lands of the Far West. Rivers and streams meandered across green plains dotted with small villages but no true towns. The coach negotiated the switchbacks down the slope then picked up speed and rumbled west.
"Why is this thing lurching back and forth so much?" Drew complained, finding it hard to read a copy of a local single page news-sheet which an eastbound passenger had left behind on his seat.
"We are traveling on a badly rutted dirt road." Finn explained.
"No wonder there's so much dust." Jemsen said.
The coach stopped twice to water the horses. Its passengers took advantage of the second halt to stretch their legs and to eat the box lunches packed for them at the last road house in the Commonwealth. The coach rolled up to the road house very late, just before sunset, its four passengers very hungry indeed.
The meal started with a spicy bean curd soup, a dish new to all of them.
"What's this?" asked Finn, holding up a small red pepper.
"I think the cook just puts them in for flavor." Karel said. "You're probably not supposed to eat them."
"Really?" Finn said, chewing experimentally. A moment later the young giant went red in the face, roared, staggered to his feet, and spit out the pepper.
"Arrh! Ptoui! Cough! Cough!"
"What is it Finn?" Jemsen asked.
The proprietor, having seen it happen before, came over and handed Finn a mug and an empty bowl.
"Wash out your mouth with this but spit it into the bowl, don't swallow."
"What is it?" Finn gasped.
"Goat's milk."
The milk put out the worst of the fire but still left Finn with a foul taste in his mouth and bad breath.
Finn's culinary misadventure put the others on their guard. Fortunately, while the main course was also spicy, it was not intolerably hot. Karel had been right. You were not supposed to chew the red peppers. They were too fiery even for the locals.
Adding to his woes, Finn's bad breath meant he went to bed alone that night.
Seizing the opportunity the twins welcomed the young journalist to their bed for an evening of fun and frolic.
Drew threw himself into the proceedings enthusiastically. Hard slender bodies like the twins' (and Liam's) really turned him on. Drew loved the press of the firm flesh and sculpted musculature of the bodies of young males, their skins all slick with sweat and tasting of salt. They offered a feast to the senses: the taste of salt for the tongue, the heat of the body for the skin, the odor of male musk for the nose, not to mention the natural smell of a clean healthy boy.
Now the twins were sexually versatile and readily traded roles not only with each other but also with Drew. The exception was when they double-teamed the cute red-head. Drew always wound up as the one in the middle, plugged at both ends, his body shoved back and forth by the thrust of their hips as the blond boys ravaged his holes.
That evening Drew proposed that one of the twins take the middle position so Drew could top in a three-way and plunge his shaft into the twin in the middle while kissing the other one. Jemsen and Karel said fine but save it for next time. It had been a week since they had last taken Drew to bed, and they wanted him bad -- and in the middle.
"No problem, Drew. You'll have it your way tomorrow. Today you are in the middle like always. Consider it an order, if you like, from your superior officers. Remember, we are both captains while you are a lowly ensign."
"If I like? Well I don't like! Not at all. This is so unfair! You two pulling rank on me."
Nevertheless, the cute red-head's flash of rebellion subsided as the twins disarmed his pique by arousing his lusts: kissing him, touching him in sensitive places, tweaking his nipples, stroking and petting. A flash of heat suffused his body as it remembered how much it enjoyed being double-teamed by the twins.
Jemsen put his hands on Drew's shoulders and pressed down. Complaisant once again, yielding to the blonds' wishes, Drew sank to his knees. Drew opened his mouth to affirm that he fully expected the twins to reciprocate the next day. Before he could get a word out, Jemsen shushed him by slipping his cock between Drew's lips and resting the head atop Drew's tongue. Effectively silenced, Drew surrendered his body to the ministrations of his friends and lovers.
Anyway who could even think, much less talk, with a throbbing cock in his mouth at one end while inquisitive fingers explored his quim at the other, reaching into it and stroking his joy spot. Another hand reached from behind to stroke Drew's rigid and engorged cock. His body shuddered with lust just short of ejaculation. But the twins liked to tease the little red-head when they had him under their control, to bring him just to the brink, then ease off, frustrating him momentarily, but setting him up for that overwhelming surge of lust that finally took him over the top.
The next evening, the twins did take turns being in the middle.
The third night, his breath finally clean and sweet smelling, Finn asserted his claim to the little guy. He had quite different techniques. You had to be careful making love when the top was a giant nearly two foot taller and four times the mass of the tiny human male on the bottom, though if Finn ever did roll on top of Drew, the red-head could use his gift to Lift the giant off him.
Finn made love to Drew by simply picking him up bodily, carrying his weight in his strong arms, with the boy's ankles resting on his shoulders or locked around his waist and settling him onto his shaft, impaling him totally. That posture, face to face, gave the giant access to Drew's hungry hole and allowed them to kiss him too. It was one of Drew's favorite ways to make love, impaled on the huge cock of a Frost Giant, his body totally under the control of the dominant male. For a natural submissive like Drew, it was heaven.
Alternately, Finn lay on his back while little Drew rode his rampant cock, posting his steed, as it were, until he came explosively, shooting his gism over Finn's chest and belly.
They liked to cuddle afterwards, bodies pressed together, Drew head pillowed on Finn's shoulder, the rest of him tucked protectively against his huge lover's flank.
As always the twins had each other. Jemsen and Karel were a perfect match, each the other's type: slender, athletic, blond, and impossibly comely. It didn't hurt that the druidical magic that enhanced their vitality and perpetuated their youth also bumped up their sex drive, not that these kids really needed it. Their mutual dimensions were perfect too, with none of the physical mismatch as between huge Finn and tiny Drew. Brothers, lovers, comrades-in-arms, and each other's best friend, the twins were a life-bonded pair and each other's soul mates. They were best friends with Finn and Drew, enjoyed sex with them, and respected their courage and intelligence, but their own bond went beyond that.
Now they were embarked on a journey, a mission really to unknown lands. Together with their good friends the young Frost Giant and the journalist cum Fetcher they would journey to the Far West and discover what adventures awaited them there.
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