Elf Boy's Friends - II

by George Gauthier

Chapter 7

Way Station

Upon arrival at the way station, Liam handed a mail sack over to the proprietor who doubled as the local postmaster, took care of his animals, then joined the travelers for a bath. It was only natural for the twins to pair off, soaping each other up and rinsing off before soaking their tired bodies in a tub of water heated by the sun.

Drew and Liam's pairing off was more about foreplay than hygiene as their hands roamed over each other's bodies. The two youngsters looked so cute together, joking, laughing, splashing, touching, and generally carrying on. Finn found himself to be the odd man out but took it

philosophically. Anyway he got an eyeful watching Drew and Liam's byplay.

Later the travelers sat down to a hearty supper prepared by a giantess who was not only the cook but also the wife of the proprietor of the establishment. The platter she set in the center of their table held a mess of lamb chops and breaded fish filets, accompanied by bowls of steaming potatoes, vegetables, and a tangy salad. Just the kind of stick-to-the-ribs food the runners needed after their exertions. The young teamster was famished too. Driving a team is hard work, even if it is done sitting down. Finn did not need an excuse for a big appetite, Frost Giant that he was.

In observance of the customs that prevailed in the Far West and to a lesser extent among the Frost Giants, the three runners dressed for dinner, sarongs for the twins and his expeditionary outfit for Drew though he went barefoot like the others save Finn. The young teamster wore his breechclout but left his boots on the porch before entering.

In the Far West public nudity was fine for sports and exercise and rather expected for peasants engaged in sweaty labor in the fields. Otherwise, especially in town, young males usually wore something, if only to cover their manly parts. Although Frost Giants were not prudish -- mixed nudity was customary in the sauna -- by custom they usually wore shirt and trews, no doubt a concession to the cold weather that prevailed in winter back in their original homeland.

"Nice modest boys." the cook assured her husband with an approving nod. "Not like those youngsters back in the Commonwealth. Always running around without a stitch on, usually for no good reason either. I can understand it for sports and exercise, like our three guest today running the road from Flensborg. But in a place of public refreshment, or when visiting a lending library, or sitting on a park bench -- well, put some clothes on already."

They all heard that. Feeling the mischief come upon him, Karel spoke up.

"Can't say we feel that way, madam. My brother and I were inducted into a clan of elves as elf-friends and adopted their ways. As you probably know elves run around stark naked just about all the time. Once babies get past swaddling clothes, young male elves virtually never wear clothes, not for almost a century and not very often after that."

"No doubt as a perpetual courtship display, knowing the elves and their promiscuous ways." the cook countered.

"Not the way they see it. For elves, nudity is simply practical: the climate is hot and anyway doing laundry is so tedious, isn't it? Besides, you Frost Giants don't expect customers to sit at the table with cloths over their mouths, do you?"

"Of course not. How could they eat or drink?"

"Exactly! The elves think that if it makes no sense to block the mouth at the upper end of the alimentary canal, then it makes no sense blocking the orifices at the nether end either, those by which we void bodily wastes."

"Harrumph!"

The cook bristled, turned, and stalked back to her kitchen. Her husband smiled at her discomfiture.

"Don't get me wrong, my Helga is a treasure, but she has strong views, which I indulge for the sake of marital harmony. Which is why it is so gratifying to see her rendered speechless if only for a few blessed moments."

They brought a chuckle all around.

After their hearty meal, the travelers rose from the table and headed to their rooms for a well-earned rest. The young teamster took Drew's hand and lead him to the room reserved for visiting coachmen. That night, they had it all to themselves.

They made good use of it.

In the morning, sometime after the runners had set out, Liam hitched a new team to his coach. The mares from the day before were to be set to pasture for a day, resting and gathering their strength for the return run to the capital, hauling the next eastbound coach and driver. Liam's schedule had him driving westward for seven days all the way to the border then seven days back, with two days off till the next round trip.

Fully refreshed after a good night's sleep thanks to their magically enhanced vitality, the youths set out on another run of twenty-five miles.

"So how was he last night?" Karel asked Drew.

The young red-head grinned. "I had a good time last night. That much I can assure you."

"I can see the evidence myself, like those hickeys. And is that a bite mark on your shoulder?"

"Yes, it is."

Drew shrugged.

"Liam is a real tiger in bed. He got a bit too excited that second time, with me braced on all fours, him covering me like a stallion does a filly, thrusting away at my quim. He bit down when he came."

"Oh ho! The second time you say. What happened before that?"

"Well, if you must know, Karel, Liam put me on my back and propped my legs on those wide shoulders of his. He is really strong in his upper storey, as you would expect a teamster to be, though I later showed him how strong my legs were when I wrapped them around his waist and squeezed as he plunged in and out of my hole. Good thing I heal fast, or my bottom would be sore this morning."

"I can believe it. Yesterday in the bath I saw that he was fairly well-endowed. A horse cock you might say. Just the thing to appeal to an inveterate bottom boy like you, Drew."

"Hey! I can top too. In fact, I did so last night... sort of anyway."

"Sort of?"

"Well, with Liam stretched out on his back, I straddled his hips and rode his cock for all I was worth."

Karel nodded to indicate that he understood. Then, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, opined:

"Like posting a trotting horse. How fitting!"

"Oh, very funny."

"So how would you rate Liam in the amatory arts?"

"No different from most guys his age. At seventeen, a young male's lovemaking owes more to enthusiasm than to technique. I'll give him a few pointers over the next six days."

"There's a lot more to making love than most guys think." Karel said. "Dahl told us that when Owain taught him about male love, he started with anatomy lessons. Later he explained how foreplay, sweet talk, intimate touching, and novel positions can enhance an encounter well beyond simple animalistic rut."

"Too bad there isn't a book about it."

"Since there isn't, why don't you write one, Drew?" Karel asked in jest.

"Maybe I will."

"You should illustrate it too." Karel added for good measure.

"Good idea, and thanks guys both for the suggestion and for volunteering to model for me."

"What? Us? Volunteers? Hardly. You should just hire rent boys for the job."

"Where could I find rent boys as good looking and sexy as you two are? No, my friends, it's a matter of simple commercial logic." Drew countered. "You twins have a whole lot of fans."

"Remember those illustrations of you I did for my two books? They depicted you twins in action during the fight with the slash bear during the Long March and picking off centaurs at the Battle of the Ravine and several other scenes. For the sake of authenticity you modeled for me in the nude, which is not only your usual state of dress but also your normal battledress uniform. In the profiles section, I wrote a short biography of the major figures in the narrative, including all of us, and depicted each in a pair of portraits, one head-and-shoulders and the other full-length."

"Well, when word got around that the books displayed the famous blond twins Sirs Jemsen and Karel in all their glory, my Uncle Poul had to schedule an extra print run to keep up with the demand. Later, Uncle Poul got the idea to repackage the illustrations as a portfolio, one picture per sheet, and printed with newly-engraved woodblocks in a size suitable for framing."

"You guys made us a fortune. It was why we made that donation in your names to the library fund of the Guild of Cartographers. I told you that when I presented you with complimentary copies of the portfolio. When I thanked you once again for modeling for me you told me then 'No problem. Any time.' Well, I am taking you up on that offer."

The twins looked at each other, pained expressions on their faces.

"Me and my big mouth!" Karel lamented.

"... have done it again!" Jemsen finished for his brother.

Drew managed to hold a straight face for a few more seconds then burst out laughing.

"Boy oh boy! I really had you going there, didn't I? Ha Ha Ha."

Chagrined at being so easily gulled in the first place, Jemsen had to make sure.

"No plans then for a sex manual? No pictures of young guys shagging?"

"No. Not by my hand anyway. That's simple commercial logic too. Someone like me, with a reputation as a writer of edifying historical works, simply does not lend his name to such graphic stuff. No, for a sex manual, the author should be a druid or an elf, perhaps your old friend Dahlderon. To turn it into a runaway best-seller it should came out under a lurid title like 'Sex Magic of the Druids' or 'Sex Secrets of the Elves'. You want a title that grabs the reader."

The twins looked askance at their friend, suspecting he was still making fun of them. Jemsen changed the subject to something safer -- the weather.

At the mid-point the runners boarded the coach for the rest of the trip. Drew rode up top with Liam till Karel asked to switch places for a while, so he could take in the view and also chat with their driver. Later Jemsen took a turn, then Drew rejoined Liam for the last stretch.

After supper the next evening, Drew resumed Liam's training in the amatory arts. In Liam, had Drew an apt pupil, one willing to learn both roles. Drew explained about the male joy spot, the prostate gland located just inside the body next to the rectum which could be stimulated by a lover's fingers or by his cock. Drew demonstrated both techniques, finally giving him the opportunity to fully top his new lover. Bottom boy by preference though he was, Drew had the same urge as any male to penetrate a warm wet hole and to thrust and ejaculate.

He was pretty good at too, thanks to his teachers, the close friends and sometime lovers to the twins, the trio of druids and lovers: Dahlderon, Merry, and Owain. It was they whose conjoined healing powers had enhanced Drew's vitality, granting him lasting youth, greater strength and stamina, sharpened senses, and a stronger sex drive, not that Drew really needed it. His mantra had once been 'So many boys. So little time'. Drew had plenty of time now, but he didn't see any reason to waste the opportunities that came along. Certainly not an pportunity as cute and sexy as the young teamster.

The smooth road built by the Commonwealth ended at the border. Travel would be slower from that point on. The local roads in the Far West ranged from bad to execrable. Nor were they entirely safe. Travelers faced potential danger from highwaymen, rebellious peasants, and unruly mercenary troops.

All four travelers would don trews and shirts for the rest of the journey. Weapons too. The twins would have their bows and quivers with them, ready to pop out of the top hatch and loose arrows at attackers. Likewise Drew would be in his expeditionary outfit, pouches of steel spheres and soporific darts ready to hand on his belt. Finn would be armed with sword and hammer and kukri for close fighting.

Drew and Liam made the most of their last night together. It helped that the young red-head did not have to get up early the next morning. Drew even got to top twice that night.

The first time was with their bodies aligned head to toe for mutual oral worship of each other's rampant cock's. It helped that they were not too different in height; The teamster stood only a hand's-breadth taller than the young journalist. Liam lay on his back, knees bent, his head propped on a pillow the better to reach Drew's dangly bits dangling just above his face. Drew was above him, on hands and knees, his head hung low to reach the fork of Liam's legs.

Drew's oral ministrations stimulated Liam's cock to a full erection. It stood tall and proud, engorged, empurpled, and throbbing. Drew's sucked all of it into the wet warmth of his mouth, pressing the shaft with his lips from root to crown and back again. He tongued the ridge of the glans and poked the tip of his tongue into the tiny slit on top. Liam's eruption filled Drew's mouth with his lover's milky gism. A moment later, Drew returned the favor.

Drew also took Liam from behind, with their bodies spooned together, in excellent position to stimulate the young teamster's joy spot with his cock. Even after both came, they lay locked together in post-coital lassitude till they were ready for the next round. Drew was gratified with his own performance. Sure he was a bottom boy, but he could top too. So there.

In the half-light of dawn, as they were getting dressed, Drew abruptly called out:

"Whoa! Liam!"

"What is it?"

"See for yourself. Look in the mirror."

In his image in the mirror above the wash basin the young teamster's eyes were shining with a glow from within, not just a reflection like the eyes of a cat.

"That silver gleam is what wizards call their 'moon-glow', a sign that you are coming into your powers. No telling yet what type of wizard you will become. Wizards are masters of the four elements: earth, air, water, or fire. Fire wizards are commonly called firecasters, but it that is just a matter of custom."

"War wizards are generalists. These include any or all of those four gifts plus fetching, throwing lightning bolts, magnetism, calling light, and others. A few have mind-speech. Very few have any real ability to Heal."

"So what do I do now?"

"You need to consult an expert. It so happens I know one of the war wizards in the capital named Sir Willet. He has sort of taken me under his wing as a protege. I'll write you a letter of introduction. He can help you discover and develop your gift, maybe take you on as his apprentice. You, my friend, are about to embark on a new and rewarding career in the magical arts, whether as a war wizard, a weather wizard, or a water wizard. Maybe something else entirely. Whichever develops, your fortune is made. Congratulations!"

"Hoorah!"

"As a war wizard you would benefit from druidical healing magic that would enhance your vitality and keep you young for five centuries or more. Let's hope so."

"Indeed!"

Liam's face brightened with a further thought.

"You know, Drew. As a powerful magic wielder in my own right, war wizard or not, I might someday join you and your friends on your adventures."

"I'd really like that. Let's go tell the others the good news."

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