Brick / Zasha

"There! There!" he shouted. He dashed away and Johnny and I jogged to catch up.

There indeed was a wide rope bridge over the Nazferiti. The river was deep, and fast-flowing, through a relatively narrow gap in the rocks. Mid-way across the bridge was a Tauren woman with a wolf, fishing over the edge with a pole.

Molthor had run to the far end of the bridge and was on his hands and knees, kissing the ground. The woman waved at us and I waved back.

"Your friend sure seems happy," she said as we approached.

"He's glad to be back," I explained. "My name's Brick. This is Johnny. That's Molthor over there."

She smiled and shook my hand. "Zasha," she said, "I call my wolf 'Underfoot'." She scritched the big grey beast on its neck and it cuddled up close to her. He took no interest in either of us.

She was cute and curvy. Her fur was all-white, and contrasted sharply with her long, black mane and tail tip. Her short horns were dark, and lightened near the tips. She smelled nice.

"What are you staring at? Haven't you seen a fishing pole, before?"

I smiled at her. "A friend of mine had one, but he never showed me how it worked."

It was a fascinating gadget. She even showed me how to use it. She held her hand over mine and I tried to cast the line, but hook caught on my tail. Pulling the barb out was not a pleasant experience.

"It's harder than it looks," I admitted. "I think I'll stick to fishing with nets."

When Molthor got tired of waiting, he approached us on the bridge. "We should go."

"Where you boys headed?" Zasha asked.

"Yojamba Isle."

"Juba'jin," Molthor corrected me. "It's a fishing village. From there, we can take a boat to Yojamba."

"Okay, Juba'jin, appearently."

"Oh, I know where that is. It's about a day's walk from here. You won't make it before dark," she said.

Zasha sized up the string of fish she had strung from the bridge. "Y'know, I may have caught more than I can eat. If one of you would like to gut them, I could share..."

Molthor's jaw dropped open. I didn't need to ask him what he thought of the idea. "For a bite of fish, I would carry you to your campsite!" I told her.

Then she did the most peculiar thing. She grabbed my left butt-cheek for a moment and winked at me before heading off down the bridge. "C'mon, Underfoot, let's go," she told the big wolf.

I hurried to catch up with Zasha and fell into step beside her. Her bright leather armor didn't match, but she didn't seem like the sort of person who would care. In fact, it seemed to suit her well.

She wore a rifle across her back, and a small hunting knife on her hip. She travelled remarkably light, without even a bedroll to her name. She had a sunny sort of the-world-will-provide personality too. With her colorful armor and bright white fur, she almost seemed to glow from within.

"So what are you doing here, in Stranglethorn Vale?" I asked.

"Hunting," she said. "There's an old kook named Nessingwary who's set up camp by the banks of the Nazferiti. He'll buy the hide of any critter bigger than a squirrel."

"So you're out here alone? What about your utankan? Where are they?"

"I'm never alone! Underfoot goes everywhere with me." She smiled her sunny smile up at me. "Besides, bulls are so infuriating this time of year. They're always fighting and showing off. Everywhere you look, they're trying to get in your face. It just makes you want to scream, you know?"

I had no idea what she was talking about, so I nodded and smiled.

"I prefer guys who are more independent, less worried about what others think of them." She kicked idly at a rock with her hoof and sent it flying. "So what are you doing out here, Brick?"

"It's a long story."

"Good." She grinned. "I like long stories."

# # #

I pulled my hauberk over my head and sighed in relief. "I've been sleeping in my armor for... I don't even know how long. It feels so good to get that off." I folded it carefully up and began unbuckling the rest of it.

"So let me get this straight," Zasha said from the log she sat on, "A human woman, whose own daughter you killed - even though you were holding her prisoner in her own home - helped sew up your wounds?"

I nodded as I put away the last of my armor.

"That's just crazy. If someone was holding me prisoner, there's no way I'd help them sew up their wounds. Forget that!" she laughed.

"Well, to be fair," I explained, "I think I was making her angry by bleeding all over her house. She probably figured that the sooner I was mended, the less mess she would have to clean up."

Zasha snorted and gripped her sides in laughter. "No way. That's funny, but I don't believe it. No one cares about cleaning that much."

"Oh no? Johnny," I said, pointing at the rogue, "before we left, what did she give you to give me?"

Johnny's creepy, air-escaping voice answered, "Soap."

"That's right, a bar of soap." I put my hands on my hips to protest her disbelief. "I slept all day in this woman's house, laying in a puddle of my own blood, stinking like a ghoul, and she gives me a bar of soap.

"Hang on!" I opened my bedroll and pulled out the sliver that I had saved.

She put it up to her nose and sniffed. "Human-made soap? You're serious, aren't you?"

I nodded and she wiped some tears from her eyes. "I'm glad I ran into you guys. I would never have believed this story if it had been told by anyone else."

# # #

The sun had gone down and the fire was dying. The crickets were competing, trying to out-sing one another.

I laid down on my bedroll and propped my head up with one hand. Zasha was laying on her elbows, in the grass beside me.

God, she was gorgeous. I hadn't really noticed before, but now that her armor was removed and she was laying so close, her clothes seemed snug. Her bottom was so round, and her tail tempting.

It was all I could do, just to keep from grabbing her. I felt a bead of sweat run down my temple.

Zasha grinned at me, mischievously. She was picking through clover, occasionally flicking one my way. Her flirting made me grin.

I brushed them off the blanket, and back onto the grass. I wanted to flirt back, but didn't know where to begin. "What did you wrap that fish in? It was so strange and delicious."

"Fadeleaf," she said with a smile. "It grows all over Stranglethorn. It's tasty, and it's full of vitamins. Oh, and if you squeeze out the oil, you can even make a few potions with it."

I stared at her like a hungry predator. Zasha smiled and looked back at the clover. "All the plants in Stranglethorn are amazing," she said. "You just never know what they might do." She grabbed a big handful of clover and then scooted over close to me. She sprinkled them slowly over my head. "Such strange weather we have here in Stranglethorn," she whispered.

Her breath was hot and sweet on my face.

I eased myself closer to her and she leaned in to me. With closed eyes, our lips met. They felt so soft and wonderful.

My heart was banging like a drum. I put my arm around her and pulled her close. Her body felt so warm next to mine.

She slid her tongue inside of my mouth. I took it gently in my lips. I had no idea that something so simple could feel so good. It was so intensely personal.

I slid my hand inside her untied vest, and cupped her perfect, little breast. Her hands were on both sides of my face, now, softly pulling me closer. Her fingers traced the length of one of my ears. She slid her thumb slowly along all the sensitive nerves on its inner surface.

A nearly electric shake ran down my spine. Wow. I pulled away, panting slightly. She was playing me somehow, like a musical instrument. It was as if she knew just the places to touch to make my brain light up like a forest fire.

I sat up on my heels and she raised an eyebrow curiously. Her soft leather vest slid easily across her fur, and I tossed it aside. She unbuckled her pants and leaned back on her shoulders while I slid them over her wide hips.

I put my hands to her small clothes, and she put her hands over mine, hesitant and unsure. I stared into her sparkling blue eyes and smiled. She was panting slightly; her perfect breasts moved up and down, just a little faster than usual. She was excited at the prospect, whether she would admit it to herself or not.

Ever so gently, I slid her small clothes down. She pulled her hands back up, momentarily embarrassed. She put a hand over one breast and bent her legs at hip slightly, the way gals will do, when they feel exposed.

My heart was pounding so hard now. The blood was hammering in my ears, and my clothes felt conspicuously tight. Her white fur seemed to glow in the moonlight. I waited, worried that I have overstepped.

The insides of her ears glowed bright red and I could smell her nervousness. I felt it too. I wanted her and I could tell she wanted me too, but there was still great anticipation as we approached that point of no return. I wanted to say something, but was afraid that a single word could ruin the moment.

Ever so slowly, Zasha put her hand back down in the clover, exposing her chest to me. She smiled nervously and I could see her need for reassurance. I couldn't help but grin and reach out to her. In a moment, that sparkle had returned to her eyes.

She sat up on her heels, before me, and peeled away my vest. Her hands unbuckled my belt and I lifted my butt up off of my heels to bring it closer to her. With one hand on her shoulder and one on the side of her face, I realized that I was trembling too.

I ran my fingers through her warm hair and she lowered my pants. She kissed my stomach, and then peeled my small clothes down. Now I was the one who felt exposed. I felt so stupid kneeling there like that, with my member in her face and my clothes bunched up around my knees.

My trembling became a shiver and then a shake. Her face was in my nakedness, and I felt so overwhelmed. She put her hands on my hips, and continued to kiss my stomach. It didn't seem to bother her.

Even my hands were shaking now. She raised her chin and looked up at me with the softest eyes and the slightest smile, as if to ask what I feared. Without taking her eyes from mine, she brushed her lips gently across my stomach, and then lower, across the tip of my sheath.

She lowered her eyes and her chin, and with one slow lick, she traced a path from my scrotum to the tip of the member that was just starting to emerge. Oh Lord. That felt fine.

The breath I hadn't realized I was holding burst out of me, and I doubled-over, resting my chin to the side of her face. I could feel her giggling, and it was infectious.

I laid on my back so that I could strip away my clothes and her fingertips gently explored my curves.

Sheathes and bacula are rare in bipeds, but the Tauren have retained them from their quadrupedal ancestors. Our parts are still angled to favor mating back-to-front, and so these help to align our body parts.

My muscles relaxed a bit, now that I was laying on my back. I put my hands behind my head and let her explore. She ran her fingers up my shaft and then gripped the top of my sheath with her thumb and primary finger. She gently pulled it down a few inches to expose me to the night air.

She licked my tip and I jolted in surprise. "You don't like that?" she whispered.

I grinned. "I didn't say that."

I rolled over on my side and pulled her hips close. I kissed her stomach and she kissed mine. Her fur was so long here, and so soft, between her thighs. I nuzzled my nose in it.

I lifted her hips and rolled her over so she was straddling my face. I ran my tongue slowly across the moist parts and listened to her moan.

"Oh!" she gasped. Then I felt her lips back on me and her soft, warm tongue. I felt my exposed shaft slide into her mouth.

I ran my tongue across her delicates, and then inside of her. What she was doing was wonderful. I would do anything to have her continue.

I gripped her tail tightly at its base, and pulled it slightly up. I could feel her muscles tense at the personal contact. Touching a cow's tail, especially near the base, is far more sexual than we would ever admit to the other races.

I licked at her slowly and then faster and faster, until all of a sudden, she pulled away, gasping for breath.

We couldn't help but grin at each other.

I got back to my knees, and she did too. Our lips met and I pulled her close again. Her fingers were between us, gently tracing a path from my nipple, to my belly, along my sheath, and down to my sac.

I put my fingers to her tail once more, and pulled it gently to the side. For a Tauren, that's a very intimate gesture. Cows only pull their tails to the side when they are ready to mate. I would only dare to make such an advance because I was in front of her, where she would feel safe. Even touching a cow's tail while you stand behind her would be the moral equivalent of rape.

She pulled her lips from mine, eyes wide open; shocked at my daring. I grinned at her, evilly. She scowled and put a hand to my nose, in reprimand, but I wouldn't be shamed. It was obvious what we both wanted.

I kissed the palm of her hand, and her wrist. Then I moved her long hair off her shoulder, so that I could kiss that too. I kissed her neck, and put my hands gently on her.

I moved slowly around so that I was kissing the back of her shoulder, and then the back of her neck. It was a transparent ploy, but then again, all the maneuvering we did around each other was, and we both knew it.

When I was finally behind her, I put a hand to her breast and another to her slender tummy. I pressed my stomach up against her back.

"Oh, so that's how it is..." she whispered.

I nodded as I kissed her neck. It was silly, the games we play, to pretend we don't want what we obviously do.

I continued to kiss and caress her. She made gentle sounds and touched the side of my face. It was a power game, and we both knew it. I would wait all night if she made me.

"Oh Brick," she moaned. She bent forward just the slightest bit, and curled her tail to the side. I was in heaven.

I moved my knees between her calves and lowered her gently down so that her palms rested in the cool grass. She looked so appealing.

With my hands on her hips, I eased her back onto me. She was so warm, so ready. The sensation was wonderful.

Gently at first, but then with increasing urgency, I began to thrust into her. Oh, the sounds she made, the little gasps of joy. It was like cheering, or applause, or begging me to continue.

I put my hands to her small breasts, so her nipples were between my fingers. My thumbs were along her ribs, moving her sleek little body up and down with each stroke. She was almost sitting in my lap now, bouncing against me, one hand caressing each of my ears as we made love.

I was moaning too now, uncontrollably. It was bliss, pure bliss.

The animal nature was bubbling up in my brain. I didn't want to be gentle any longer. I pressed my weight down on top of her and she steadied herself on all fours. I thrust again and again. My mouth was on her back and my arms braced us from the ground as well.

She gasped and moaned. With one hand, she reached up and grabbed one of my horns. She grabbed the other as well, so I was on all fours and supporting her weight with my horns. She arched her back, thrusting her breasts out into the chilly night air.

It may sound ridiculous, but it's such an aggressive thing for a cow to do, grabbing onto a bull's horns. It's a statement of dominance and control, because it can be about the cow turning the bull's head to make him face where she pleased.

It's so damn naughty.

I was thrusting with wild abandon, and using my neck muscles to rock her back and forth into me. I bellowed with joy. I couldn't form words then if it would save my life. She was crying out with each thrust. It wasn't quite a word, but it was on the cusp between a moan and the word, "Yes!"

A tidal wave rolled over me and my every muscle strained. She dropped her palms to the grass and pressed back against me, gasping.

And then the ecstasy of release as we convulsed gently against each other's bodies. Sweating, gasping for breath.

Our strength drained from us, and ever-so-slowly we lowered ourselves to the ground. I rested on my elbows, trying to keep my bulk from crushing her chest.

"Oh Zasha," I said with a little, uncontrolled giggle, "that was so wonderful."

She turned her head and our legs fumbled slowly in a mess, trying to remain connected, but yet allowing our lips to meet.

Soon I was laying on my back, with her cheek pressed to my chest. My hands were behind my head and I could feel myself drifting. Her fingers idly traced slow circles around my pelt.

"A copper for your thoughts..." I whispered.

A pause and then a sigh. "You won't be mad?"

I snorted a laugh. "I don't think I'm capable of that, right at this moment."

She kissed my ribs and gave me a big squeeze. "I was just thinking what a shame it was, that there's so little of the human woman's soap left."

I groaned and squeezed her tight. The little white cow continued to giggle in my grasp.