Paying the Troll
It’s been four years since Amy was introduced to a world where fairy tale monsters were real… four years of college, part time jobs, and boyfriends who just aren’t cutting it. Back home once more, Amy could use a break and a little fun.
Lucky for her, there’s a bridge with a troll, and a toll that she’s only too happy to pay – on her terms, this time, and she wants it hard, unprotected, and every way she can think of. Fairy tales aren’t just for kids, and Amy’s ready for all the fantasy she can get.
The troll tugged her shorts the rest of the way off, the scrap of denim dangling off one long finger like a taunt as he held them up. He crouched down like a folded spider on his heels with an easy grace, long limbs jutting out at angles and one long not-limb standing up from his groin to point right at her. "Dat better?"
Amy licked her lip, eyes glued to the thick cock that was pushing up from the troll's bare scrap of covering. It was the same gray-blue as his skin, only deeper, flushed dark with the blood filling it, the surface corded in veins and ridged in natural smooth protrusions. Every vibrator Amy had bought in the last four years had been ridged, none of them quite satisfactory, and she was staring hungrily at the real life version that put the latex to shame.
Her whole body felt on fire, a heat that had nothing to do with the summer sun. She could feel her own wet fluids tickling her cunt, a slick trail slipping down into the grass beneath her ass. Letting her legs fall open, she canted her hips up, giving the troll a view of her smooth shaved lips. "Better," she managed, her throat dry. "Down to business?"
"Oh," the troll rumbled, flicking her shorts aside, his eyes raking over her, "we got lots of business, you and I. Demandin' raises da price, ya see?" He grinned, the flash of teeth no less fearsome for being well lit in the dappled sunlight beneath the trees.