u/steamed3ggz

The Woods of Death deterred many travelers from entering it based on its name alone. What kept more still from traversing the woods was the legends that were whispered about it—stories of monsters and ghouls hiding in the shadows, silencing whoever dared enter through, well, death.

Lionel wasn't the sort to be bothered by names or legends. He'd slain many monsters during the time he spent traveling the land. He'd battled orcs, goblins, trolls, and many other types of violent creatures who were out for his blood or gold. And every time, he'd won.

So he wasn't very concerned for his safety as he entered the Woods of Death.

As he walked through gnarled, darkwood trees and past dead bushes with long thorns, he kept a keen eye out for anything that might jump out from the fog and attempt to attack him. He kept a hand on his sword and his wits about.

However, as he drew further into the depths of the woods, Lionel noticed that something strange was starting to happen. The trees were becoming less dark and more leafy. The thorny bushes were starting to disappear, replaced by flowering plants and berry bushes. The previously-prominent fog was fading. And Lionel began to hear the sounds of birds chirping where there had previously been dead, eerie silence.

"What..." Lionel muttered to himself.

But he kept walking. Strolling, really. And as he drew further into the now-beautiful woods, he felt more at ease.

At long last, he walked through a gap in the trees and stumbled upon a pleasant clearing, dotted with wildflowers and dappled with sunlight. In the center of the clearing, to Lionel's further surprise, sat a cute little cottage. It looked so innocent—so idyllic—that his unease from earlier came back.

Slowly, he approached the cottage. He looked up. There was smoke coming from the rustic, slightly crumbling brick chimney.

Someone was inside. Lionel swallowed.

"May the gods strike me down," he uttered quietly. He took a few more steps forward, raised a hand, and knocked a few times on the front door.

The few long moments of silence that followed were agonizing. Lionel's mind rapidly conjured up images of what could be lurking inside the cottage: an ogre, tall and hulking and brandishing a club. Or perhaps a demon, ready to steal his soul. Or, or, perhaps—

The door swung open.

Lionel had to stop his jaw from dropping to the ground. The person—the young woman—standing in front of him wasn't an ogre, nor a demon, nor a monster. She looked ordinary. Except, not quite; she was beautiful. And rather well-endowed.

"Oh," said the woman. "Hello."

Lionel forced his mouth to work. "Greetings," he returned. "I...I did not expect a fair maiden such as yourself to be living in the depths of the Woods of Death."

The woman raised her eyebrows. "You are not the first traveler to tell me that." She smiled. "But your words are flattering, nonetheless."

She bowed her head slightly before looking back up at Lionel. "My name is Myette," she said.

"Lionel."

He kissed her hand. Her smile widened.

"Won't you come in?" Myette invited. "It has been so long since I've had..." She paused. "...Pleasant company."

"I can only imagine what it must be like to live out here," Lionel said. He walked past the young woman and entered the cottage. Its interior was rustic, but charming, with bundles of dried flowers hung from the ceiling here and there and wooden furniture. There were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and a brick fireplace in the corner. On top of the fire sat an empty black cauldron.

Lionel glanced around, then looked back at Myette. She'd shut the door behind them, and was looking at Lionel with an expression that was difficult to read.

Feeling slightly awkward, Lionel cleared his throat. "The cauldron...Er...Are you a caster of spells, of some kind?"

Myette nodded. "Yes," she confirmed. "I am a witch. It's part of the reason why I live in these woods. The magical energy here is unlike anything else."

"I see."

"The frightening section of the woods exists to ward travelers off," Myette explained, softly. "And the legends exist for that same reason. It would be...detrimental, if lots of people came trampling through this delicate place."

"I understand."

The witch moved closer to Lionel. He didn't move.

"Like I said," she continued, at the same quiet level. "It's been so long since someone has come by."

"Just to visit?" Lionel asked, stupidly. "In a friendly sense?"

Myette smiled.

"I have been longing for company," she said. "So much."

Lionel's brain was slow to react as Myette took a few steps forward, closing the gap between them, pressing her body against his and getting up on the tips of her toes to kiss him. But when he registered her soft lips against his, he kissed back, his eyes shutting.

She only drew back for a brief moment, her eyes examining his face as if cataloguing his appearance, before she leaned back in. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands found her waist.

Their kisses grew deeper. More passionate. Her fingers carded through his hair. His hands snaked around her waist and gripped her ass.

After Lionel squeezed her hard, Myette let out a small gasp, breaking the kiss.

Wordlessly, the witch took his hand and guided him to the armchair that was by the fireplace. He sat down, and she climbed on top of him, straddled his lap, and started grinding down on him. Lionel let out a quiet groan, letting his head fall back onto the back of the armchair.

"It's been so long," breathed Myette, continuing to grind her ass on his lap, "You have no idea, traveler, how much I desire cock inside me."

"I can give it to you," Lionel said, reaching up to squeeze her breasts, "I'll fill you up, if you let me."

Myette let out a short giggle. The circling motions of her hips were driving Lionel half-mad. He was rock hard inside his trousers by now. "If I let you," she echoed. "Yes, I most definitely will."

It took some fumbling, but Lionel managed to remove his breeches, taking his cock in hand. Myette pulled up her dress above her waist, revealing that she was completely bare underneath—she hadn't been wearing any underwear.

At Lionel's obvious reaction to that, Myette giggled again.

"There is no reason for me to wear undergarments," she said. "As you can see, it's most convenient."

"Yes," Lionel agreed. "Yes, it is." He wrapped his hand around the base of his throbbing member, helping Myette position it as she hovered above his cock for a moment, brushing the tip against her dripping entrance.

She was tight and felt perfect around his dick as she sank down on him, letting out a ragged moan of ecstasy once he was fully sheathed inside her cunt.

"Yes," she panted, "Yes, yes! Yes!"

Myette began bouncing up and down on Lionel's cock, the sound of his balls slapping against her skin echoing through the cottage. Lionel attempted to fuck up into her tight heat, but she set her hands on his chest, holding him down while she rode him like a seasoned knight on her steed, her tits bouncing up and down.

"Let me use you, traveler," the witch exclaimed, "Gods, you feel perfect inside me...!"

Lionel knew he wasn't going to last long. Not with her on top of him like this—not with the noises she was making, her moans growing in pitch and volume. It seemed she wasn't going to last much longer, either. Her claim that it had been a while seemed to be completely true.

"I'm going to—" Lionel had to hold back a groan. "Soon, I'll—"

"Yes," interrupted Myette. "Spill your seed! Finish deep inside me, and don't waste a single drop!"

That was it. Lionel let out a grunt, his cock pulsing as he damn near burst, filling the witch's pussy with his cum. She gasped at the sensation, and then let out a single, high, noise—her cunt tightened around him, her thighs twitching as she came shortly after Lionel.

They both breathed heavy for a moment, a new silence settling upon them like a blanket as they floated back down in post-orgasm bliss.

Myette didn't move to get off Lionel. She leaned slightly forward, bracing her arms on the armchair, her breasts pressing against Lionel's face.

"How is your stamina, traveler?" She asked, breathlessly. "Have I drained you yet?"

The Woods of Death deterred many travelers from entering it based on its name alone. What kept more still from traversing the woods was the legends that were whispered about it—stories of monsters and ghouls hiding in the shadows, silencing whoever dared enter through, well, death.

Lionel wasn't the sort to be bothered by names or legends. He'd slain many monsters during the time he spent traveling the land. He'd battled orcs, goblins, trolls, and many other types of violent creatures who were out for his blood or gold. And every time, he'd won.

So he wasn't very concerned for his safety as he entered the Woods of Death.

As he walked through gnarled, darkwood trees and past dead bushes with long thorns, he kept a keen eye out for anything that might jump out from the fog and attempt to attack him. He kept a hand on his sword and his wits about.

However, as he drew further into the depths of the woods, Lionel noticed that something strange was starting to happen. The trees were becoming less dark and more leafy. The thorny bushes were starting to disappear, replaced by flowering plants and berry bushes. The previously-prominent fog was fading. And Lionel began to hear the sounds of birds chirping where there had previously been dead, eerie silence.

"What..." Lionel muttered to himself.

But he kept walking. Strolling, really. And as he drew further into the now-beautiful woods, he felt more at ease.

At long last, he walked through a gap in the trees and stumbled upon a pleasant clearing, dotted with wildflowers and dappled with sunlight. In the center of the clearing, to Lionel's further surprise, sat a cute little cottage. It looked so innocent—so idyllic—that his unease from earlier came back.

Slowly, he approached the cottage. He looked up. There was smoke coming from the rustic, slightly crumbling brick chimney.

Someone was inside. Lionel swallowed.

"May the gods strike me down," he uttered quietly. He took a few more steps forward, raised a hand, and knocked a few times on the front door.

The few long moments of silence that followed were agonizing. Lionel's mind rapidly conjured up images of what could be lurking inside the cottage: an ogre, tall and hulking and brandishing a club. Or perhaps a demon, ready to steal his soul. Or, or, perhaps—

The door swung open.

Lionel had to stop his jaw from dropping to the ground. The person—the young woman—standing in front of him wasn't an ogre, nor a demon, nor a monster. She looked ordinary. Except, not quite; she was beautiful. And rather well-endowed.

"Oh," said the woman. "Hello."

Lionel forced his mouth to work. "Greetings," he returned. "I...I did not expect a fair maiden such as yourself to be living in the depths of the Woods of Death."

The woman raised her eyebrows. "You are not the first traveler to tell me that." She smiled. "But your words are flattering, nonetheless."

She bowed her head slightly before looking back up at Lionel. "My name is Myette," she said.

"Lionel."

He kissed her hand. Her smile widened.

"Won't you come in?" Myette invited. "It has been so long since I've had..." She paused. "...Pleasant company."

"I can only imagine what it must be like to live out here," Lionel said. He walked past the young woman and entered the cottage. Its interior was rustic, but charming, with bundles of dried flowers hung from the ceiling here and there and wooden furniture. There were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and a brick fireplace in the corner. On top of the fire sat an empty black cauldron.

Lionel glanced around, then looked back at Myette. She'd shut the door behind them, and was looking at Lionel with an expression that was difficult to read.

Feeling slightly awkward, Lionel cleared his throat. "The cauldron...Er...Are you a caster of spells, of some kind?"

Myette nodded. "Yes," she confirmed. "I am a witch. It's part of the reason why I live in these woods. The magical energy here is unlike anything else."

"I see."

"The frightening section of the woods exists to ward travelers off," Myette explained, softly. "And the legends exist for that same reason. It would be...detrimental, if lots of people came trampling through this delicate place."

"I understand."

The witch moved closer to Lionel. He didn't move.

"Like I said," she continued, at the same quiet level. "It's been so long since someone has come by."

"Just to visit?" Lionel asked, stupidly. "In a friendly sense?"

Myette smiled.

"I have been longing for company," she said. "So much."

Lionel's brain was slow to react as Myette took a few steps forward, closing the gap between them, pressing her body against his and getting up on the tips of her toes to kiss him. But when he registered her soft lips against his, he kissed back, his eyes shutting.

She only drew back for a brief moment, her eyes examining his face as if cataloguing his appearance, before she leaned back in. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and his hands found her waist.

Their kisses grew deeper. More passionate. Her fingers carded through his hair. His hands snaked around her waist and gripped her ass.

After Lionel squeezed her hard, Myette let out a small gasp, breaking the kiss.

Wordlessly, the witch took his hand and guided him to the armchair that was by the fireplace. He sat down, and she climbed on top of him, straddled his lap, and started grinding down on him. Lionel let out a quiet groan, letting his head fall back onto the back of the armchair.

"It's been so long," breathed Myette, continuing to grind her ass on his lap, "You have no idea, traveler, how much I desire cock inside me."

"I can give it to you," Lionel said, reaching up to squeeze her breasts, "I'll fill you up, if you let me."

Myette let out a short giggle. The circling motions of her hips were driving Lionel half-mad. He was rock hard inside his trousers by now. "If I let you," she echoed. "Yes, I most definitely will."

It took some fumbling, but Lionel managed to remove his breeches, taking his cock in hand. Myette pulled up her dress above her waist, revealing that she was completely bare underneath—she hadn't been wearing any underwear.

At Lionel's obvious reaction to that, Myette giggled again.

"There is no reason for me to wear undergarments," she said. "As you can see, it's most convenient."

"Yes," Lionel agreed. "Yes, it is." He wrapped his hand around the base of his throbbing member, helping Myette position it as she hovered above his cock for a moment, brushing the tip against her dripping entrance.

She was tight and felt perfect around his dick as she sank down on him, letting out a ragged moan of ecstasy once he was fully sheathed inside her cunt.

"Yes," she panted, "Yes, yes! Yes!"

Myette began bouncing up and down on Lionel's cock, the sound of his balls slapping against her skin echoing through the cottage. Lionel attempted to fuck up into her tight heat, but she set her hands on his chest, holding him down while she rode him like a seasoned knight on her steed, her tits bouncing up and down.

"Let me use you, traveler," the witch exclaimed, "Gods, you feel perfect inside me...!"

Lionel knew he wasn't going to last long. Not with her on top of him like this—not with the noises she was making, her moans growing in pitch and volume. It seemed she wasn't going to last much longer, either. Her claim that it had been a while seemed to be completely true.

"I'm going to—" Lionel had to hold back a groan. "Soon, I'll—"

"Yes," interrupted Myette. "Spill your seed! Finish deep inside me, and don't waste a single drop!"

That was it. Lionel let out a grunt, his cock pulsing as he damn near burst, filling the witch's pussy with his cum. She gasped at the sensation, and then let out a single, high, noise—her cunt tightened around him, her thighs twitching as she came shortly after Lionel.

They both breathed heavy for a moment, a new silence settling upon them like a blanket as they floated back down in post-orgasm bliss.

Myette didn't move to get off Lionel. She leaned slightly forward, bracing her arms on the armchair, her breasts pressing against Lionel's face.

"How is your stamina, traveler?" She asked, breathlessly. "Have I drained you yet?"