A beautiful afternoon greeted Robin and Marian. The sky was a perfect blue and the sun still high. They directed their mighty steeds along a trail in the woods. Marian rode side-saddle as was appropriate to her nobility. They wandered past lush groundcover. Evergreens towered overhead and deciduous trees foliated on long branches. The sunlight darted through green stained-glass leaves creating small islands of light that highlighted Marian’s blonde curls.
The sound of gently running water babbling over stones soon met her ears. The steps of the horses quickened. Large rocks near the creek offered a resting place. Robin dismounted. His hands found Marian’s waist and he lifted her from her mare to the safety of terra firma. Marian smelled of jasmine and lilac. Robin nuzzled her neck and took in the aromas that were seldom found on the women beyond the castle walls. Fresh clean smells were afforded to those with unsullied water and scented powders created by adept apothecaries.
Robin led Marian to the largest rock. The couple perched upon it and watched the brook slowly meander around several bends as it made its way downstream where it pooled into calm water. Further along, it dropped over boulders and mossy rocks, and then cascaded into a small waterfall. The sound was delightful and refreshing.
They held hands and gazed past the stream to where the trees fell away to reveal grass as green as Robin’s tunic, meadows with yellow wildflowers and fertile fields of brown earth that stretched across a valley. They pondered their secret liaison as a pair of dragonflies buzzed and darted over the glimmering wet stones.
Caught up in the frolicsome liberation Robin’s presence provided, Marian raised her gown above her thighs and hiked her feet up on the rock in a very unladylike manner. She gathered small stones and tossed them, one by one, into the shimmering waters. Her lips curved into a petulant smile as an erotic memory with Robin surfaced.
Robin studied her. “What wily thoughts lie inside your pretty head today, Marian?”
“Inside my head lies nothing but magical thoughts of thee, dear Robin.” She chunked another stone into the still pool. It skipped along the surface and over the edge of the waterfall. “My heart always flutters like that pebble upon the water when we are together. Then, like my heart, it drops into the abyss when we must part.” She raised his rough hand to her lips and kissed his palm. “I was thinking of the first time you walked with me through Sherwood. You bribed my chaperone with a king’s ransom to keep her watchful eye at the trail’s entrance rather than upon us.”
“Nay, not quite a king’s ransom was required to turn your handmaiden into a sentinel. It was only the wealth stolen from a fat merchant on his way to pay tribute to the sheriff. A fair trade, I would say.”
Marian laughed and looked into Robin’s ice-blue eyes. “Think ye that someday we might lay on satin sheets? You, dressed in the finest silks as the lord of the manor to which you are entitled?”
“No drafty castle for me, fair lady. And no nonsense about lords, ladies or the trappings of knighthood. It will be rough-cloth outlaws of the forest for my men and I until justice rules the land. No more talk of silks and satins. Not on such a fair day and with our moment so brief.”
Robin pulled a scrap of smoothed animal-hide from beneath his forest-green tunic. Letters were inscribed upon it. “I’ve written something for you, Marian,” he announced. “My passion may not always be obvious when we play the game of love in frolicsome haste. Perhaps my words will stir your heart beyond its flutters to the knowledge of my deepest feelings.”
Marion wanted a peek at the scribbling, but Robin turned it so that she could not see. He held the script before him as if he was about to make a proclamation from the king. Marian laid her hand upon his arm in anticipation of his words.
Robin cleared his throat in dramatic fashion, and proceeded:
“M’lady reclines in the tall summer grass while I chase after dandelions.
She smiles from beneath her emerald eyes as if I’d brought her roses instead of wildflowers.
Two damselflies buzz above our heads as she takes the flowers from my hand.”
Robin’s eyes darted sideways to see how Marian was reacting to his poetic verse. She seemed pleased.
“The summer wind disturbs a lock of her hair as her lips approach me with a kiss as tender as the velvet touch of a breeze.
M’lady closes her eyes to enter a world where only we exist while the gentle music of water sings over stones.
She smiles again at the wonder of the day, and of me, as she beckons silently, the moment too precious for words.
She places my hand upon her breast where her heart beats to the rhythm of my pulse in an act of love as pure as nature’s glory that surrounds us.
My mouth suckles m’lady’s sweet breasts amidst the blades of grass.
I touch, taste and smell all that is wondrous about her.
M’lady places my flowers in her hair then touches me, and our perfect universe is complete.”
“Oh Robin,” Marian gushed, almost in a swoon. “You capture my heart as the song from a meadowlark might capture his mate, and on such a perfect day to offer this soliloquy. Your precious sentiment belongs to me now, sweet rover. Aye, and the beautiful verses upon this parchment. I will carry it next to my heart beneath my royal garments as a reminder of your endearing words written for me only.”
Robin gave the lambskin parchment to Marian. She laid it high upon the rock, safely beyond the water’s edge. Then she turned to her petitioner once again. “I am inclined to give you something more than sweet words and kisses in return.”
From a small purse, Marian produced a silver key. “I have snuck away with the key to my virtue. The time has come for you to take me completely, Robin. Let’s delay no longer, my sweet. Your words have won the wholeness of me. Without further entreaties, you may storm the ramparts. Aye, and do more than place your cock and your kisses upon me. What say you to this undertaking?”
“My cock in the final fissure, forbidden to me no longer? Let me have the key, Marian.”
Robin took the stolen key and placed it upon the rock next to the parchment. They stood and undressed each other. Marian flushed. Her passion heightened as she unlaced Robin’s coarse tunic and unfastened the leather knots on his breeches.
Nimbler fingers than Robin’s were usually required to free Marian from her bodice and skirts, but he was up to the task as he peeled her, layer by layer. Covered only by the dancing shade of tree branches, they flung the garments near their mounts. The horses whinnied in approval.
Robin had taken many a wench in his time, and more than a few women of noble birth, but Marian had always been his prize. She was the one woman in Nottingham worth the time and effort he had invested, with the ultimate goal of her deflowering. A moment that had, at last, arrived.
There had been many walks through the woods before she took his cock from his breeches and held it fast. And yet more excursions and picnics before his creamy ejaculate had flown from the tip of his prick as if it had been shot from a catapult, with encouragement from Marian’s tiny delicate hands. And longer still before her prudishness collapsed completely and her dainty lips had encircled that loaded weapon with the gusto of swine at their feeding trough.
Yes, it had taken time and deliberation, but Robin’s favorite pleasure was the simplicity of Marian’s slender form revealed in its grand nakedness. The only flaw was the silver studded leather belt around her waist and between her limbs that encased and protected the Golden Fleece from royalty and ruffian alike.
Her alabaster skin, unsullied by labor and not stretched from childbirth, was in startling contrast to the wooded backdrop of rough tree trunks and the undergrowth of fauna. She posed for him upon the rock, like an angel from heaven. But instead of possessing wings, her oddity was the irritating and unnatural signpost of purity that covered her Venus opening. How she had smuggled away its key from the Mother Protector he could not fathom, but this was no time to ponder such trivialities, not with the key in reach of the lock.
Robin planted kisses upon Marian’s lips and stiffening nipples. She glanced down to see if the promise of her quim was stirring his loins. “Your manhood grows quickly like a wild root seeking the nectar hiding inside a dainty flower,” she said with great delight.
“Well said, m’lady. Now for the key to your jewel behind this wall of exasperation.” Robin took the key from the rock and placed it within the keyhole of the finely crafted apparatus. He turned the key. The belt sprung open and the quarry of hair and flesh stood liberated. He removed the device from around her hips and tossed it near their pile of clothing.
During Robin’s life as both noble and outlaw, he had sallied forth into many vaginas, but had seen none as fair, or as prized, as the one presented forthwith. It resided in modest repose beneath the triangle of light silky down, waiting to be awakened by the thunderous bulb growing thick between the master’s thighs. “Truly a feast fit for a banquet in heaven,” he said to Marian in praise of her cunny. His words had proven one way to a woman’s heart. He would show Marian yet another use for the tongue, one that would make something other than her heart throb.
His tongue dampened her pubic hair then darted toward the fissure between her virginal petals. Even here, Marian smelled of fresh flowers. The truth be known, he preferred the natural musky smell of the women of the villages. But it was a small unpleasantness. And there would come a time when he would wash all the pomp and courtly trappings away, and rut her like a lustful woodsman full of drink might mount and shag a common concubine.
Marian moaned with the pleasure of a new and alien sensation. “Darling Robin, lay me upon the rock and take me with your sturdy staff.”
He took her in his arms and lay her down gently.
“Do not worry about hurting me,” Marian breathed. “My maidenhead was defeated long ago from self-indulgence. I am not completely innocent of the feelings you are about to awaken.”
“But my siege will be much greater than an attack by your tiny fingers.”
“Oh, I have been besieged by a little more than that. The fruit and vegetables from the garden have supplied some relief. Even the end of my walking stick has been of service while thinking of our clandestine meetings. But now I have you, Robin – living, breathing flesh and blood to complete my longing.”
“Hmmmm.” Undaunted by Marian’s revelations, it was time to mount her and ride, gently at first. And then later, shift into a gallop of reckless abandon as if putting the strap to his horse. Robin lay upon his damsel. His bulbous member found her liberated slit. He plunged his prick inside her to a depth which no walking stick or cucumber had previously reached, he felt sure.
Marian gasped. “Oh, m’lord. You are deliciously deep within.”
“Is it as pleasurable as you had hoped?”
“Richard may have the heart of a lion, but you have the cock of a god. Preen and crow, my good cock. Dig your talons into my flesh so that I may be reminded of this robust pleasure far after it has ended, in my dreams of desire when you have departed. I care not if the Mother Superior examines my body and finds the scratches and welts of our passion thereupon.”
“Cock-a-doodle-do!” Robin crowed to their good humor while he plunged and receded, plunged and receded, like the well-oiled cog of a waterwheel with only Marion’s supple skin between the hardness in his shaft and the non-yielding surface of the rock.
Marian’s and Robin’s eyes squeezed shut with flaming desire as their fuck headed toward its final throes of fresh lust. He knew what caused babies and he planned on showering his lovely mistress’s torso with the juice of pleasure rather than plant his seed inside her exquisite, yet undoubtedly fertile, canal.
The moment was upon him. Robin rose from atop Marian’s breasts. He rested his weight on his knees without breaking their bond. He took her royal ankles in his hands and positioned her reddened rump above the rock’s surface, suspending it, so that his testicles could bounce against her rectal cavity during the final pounding strokes of coitus.
Marian groaned mightily from this repositioning. She was nearly beyond words of desire or endearment. She was experiencing total surrender for the first time in her pampered life. But she was not completely beyond words. “I would sooner die than to have you remove your heavenly weapon from my sheath.”
“All good things must temporarily end,” Robin confided as he suddenly pulled his cock from her. His organ sprung forth with the juice of life. It unloaded its bounty on her stomach, teats and beyond. The force of his ejaculate reached even to her angelic face. Robin trembled from the aftershocks of his orgasm. A feeling of divine pleasure ran through Marian’s satiated body as well. Her hands spread the lumps of Robin’s semen about her face and torso as if applying a soothing cream of protection against the sun’s rays. It made her skin sparkle.
The tip of Robin’s cock lay in Marion’s small navel like a large snake seeking sustenance from the nearest aperture. “I trust m’lady is pleased with our first coupling?”
“More than pleased, Robin. There is the temptation to give up everything and remain here with you in the forest.”
“Nay. That wouldn’t be the thing to do. You would not approve of my less-than-amorous activities of looting and thieving.”
“But for good cause.”
“Let us lie here and enjoy the moment of passing rapture. Then we will talk of the future.”
After a few moments of repose, they skittered down the rock and lay naked in the stream, teasing each other as water cascaded around them. Though delightfully refreshing, the water was colder than a witch’s tit in a brass bodice. Their butts were turning blue. Robin solved that problem by coaxing Marian onto her knees. The twin sights of her shivering, white moon, alive with tiny goosebumps, and the dark fissure in her arse revived his enthusiasm.
His phallus assaulted Marian’s cunny from the rear as the babbling waters found new courses around their bare limbs. He carried his fantasy of riding a quarrelsome steed one step further by slapping Marian’s pristine buttock with vigor, knowing no hand had been laid against her tender flesh until this moment.
Her little yelp spurred him on. Robin pumped into Marian with such swiftness and abandon that she felt she might be driven insane with giddy delight. With their knees nearly freezing, neither of them could manage a full breath.
“Two naked animals rutting before God like there was no worry about the morrow,” Marian laughed. “This is what Heaven should be like. This is as good as life can possibly become. Will you pleasure me often, Robin? I shall not sleep a wink if I thought you would lose interest now that the mystery has departed. Will we ever experience anything this lustful again?”
Robin had a plethora of unscrupulous habits. They were necessary tools for survival in his line of work, but lying to women was not one of them. His lengthy cock pounded Marian’s pot of honey. He was no longer concerned about where his second seminal load might take refuge. While his long and deliberate strokes continued to delight her, he said truthfully, “Methinks you worry yourself to distraction, Marian. We in the forest live for the day and don’t concern ourselves with the morrow. But you can rest assured that a taste of your quim only increases your allure. My rigid staff and I will always be at the ready. I have only begun to share the pleasures of fornication with your body and your spirit. So come to the woods when ye may, and use your substitutes for my cock when ye must.”
Another liquid burst sprang from Robin’s cock, this time inside of his damsel. Release. Blessed release. He moaned in harmony with the object of his desire, a woman that no longer could properly be called Maid Marian.
Cold water and sexual warmth consumed the impassioned pair as they had performed like most of nature’s beasts in the wild. And never had a more striking duo made rut in this beautiful spot. Robin remained coupled to Marian until his spent instrument withered somewhat. He delicately pulled his trunk from her crevice. Its tip dropped harmlessly into the brook. He admired the tiny glistening hole he had abandoned for an instant then he stood before a little fishy might take his floundering prick for bait.
Marian and Robin climbed the bank and dried each other while feeling returned to their frozen extremities. Robin fitted the brass and leather apparatus around Marian’s hips and locked away the entrance to her lustful cavern once again.
“You keep the key, Robin. There is no other that shall have access, or plow my fertile field. Let the old biddy wonder where the key could have gone. She’ll have another made soon enough.”
Before Robin could cloister his dangling penis inside his trousers, Marian knelt and kissed it tenderly to reward its performance and the pleasure it had provided.
They dressed and mounted their horses. Robin saw Marian to the edge of the clearing where the dutiful, and well-paid, chaperone waited.
“You have a rose to your cheeks I’ve not seen before, m’lady,” the companion said.
“I’ve discovered the meaning of life with the application of a soothing, natural balm, dear Hilda. I have experienced the milk of human kindness, which we could all use more of.”
“Fore and aft,” Robin said so only Marian could hear.
Still mounted, Robin and Marion strained toward one another until their lips met. They kissed softly. Then Robin quickly turned his mount, waved farewell and rode into the forest with a lusty laugh, back to a cooked lamb, his trusty band of outlaws. He would see to it that Friar Tuck received an extra share of mutton and grog with which to wash it down for the romantic verses he had so graciously provided.
In camp, Robin lay on the furry animal hides, thinking not of robbing the rich and giving to the poor as much as the way his obliging spear had filled Marian’s royal arse. He believed Marian would send a message soon requesting another meeting now that her cunny – her final bastion of surrender – had a proper taste for cock.
In his own time and place, Robin was a rock star, but his most prized possession was the silver key. It lay sequestered in his tunic until such time as the delicate box again required unlocking. And again, it would reveal Marion’s Holy Grail, which he would utilize as love and lust demanded.