Date: Tue, 12 May 2020 17:58:38 +0200
From: Daniel Comnenus <daniel.comnenus@gmx.com>
Subject: My Elvish Boyfriend (part 8)

MY ELVISH BOYFRIEND (8)

By Dolphin Dan


In the summer of 1996, after we were away from each other for 3 years, I
went to visit my boyfriend Ernemion (Ernie) Maundelow in his home country
of Varandikar, in Eastern Europe. We were both 21 at the time. This trip
opened my eyes (and my ass!) in more ways than one. It was one of the most
intense experiences of my life and most of the rest of my story is going to
be about my trip there.

The first fuck that Ernie and I had, in his secret bedroom in the "root
barn" on the edge of his family's rural farm, was sort of a "get it out of
our system" type of encounter. It was purely hormonal. After this was over
we were able to deal with our situation more rationally. I was very
cognizant of being a guest in his country, and an outsider. Ernie and his
family were all elves and I was the only "boyach" (the elvish word for
non-elves). I would be staying for almost two months, so I had to
ingratiate myself with my hosts.

Let me describe Ernie's family. I talked about his mother last time, she
was elderly, gray haired, kind and didn't speak a word of English. Then he
had two sisters. One was named Garaada, she was 18, and the other Cornuda,
age 15. Both had long blonde hair and were very voluptuous, Garaada more so
than her sister. Cornuda was more delicate. She wore her hair in braids and
spoke in a very airy tone. Garaada was kind of a battle ax. During my eight
weeks there I saw Garaada naked or semi-naked a couple of times as she was
moving from the shower in the farmhouse to her bedroom. Her breasts were
enormous and very round, and elvish women do not shave their bushes in any
way so it was all there to see. Garaada is one of the very few women in my
life who gave me a boner. I'm basically 99% gay, but she appealed to that
1% that was left. That's not easy to do. I admit I did wonder what it would
feel like to slide my cock into that thick wet bush of hers or between her
huge tits. This never got beyond the wondering stage, though. I stayed in a
guest room which was across the narrow hall from Garaada's room. My bedroom
had a bed (up on 2 foot stilts), a table, one kerosene lantern, and plain
stucco walls. Looking at my room it might have been the 15th century.

Ernie's father was buried on the property. In fact on Sundays we (the
womenfolk, Ernie and I) went out to pay our respects to his grave. I
learned later that Ernie had personally dug his father's grave. There was a
wooden pole in the ground marking his grave, with a carved Star of David
atop it. I was dense, I know, but until I saw this I never realized that
Ernie and his family were Jewish, though they were not super religious; his
middle name was "Rosenvandt," which was his mother's maiden name. The
wooden pole had carvings on it for Ernie's father's dates: born 13.2.43
(February 2, 1943), died 20.5.93 (May 20, 1993, the day Ernie predicted to
me, three weeks before, that he would die). There was another grave next to
this one, overgrown by weeds. The elvish writing on the much older wooden
marker referenced Honemion Rosenvandt Maundelow, born 20.12.80 (December
12, 1980), died 16.8.86 (August 16, 1986). This was the grave of little
Honey, as they called him, Ernie's younger brother. He died of a fever at
age five. The mere mention of Honey sent Ernie or his mother into paroxysms
of grief. On some of these Sunday afternoon occasions I watched Ernie sink
to his knees and sob uncontrollably over the grave of his brother. Whatever
happened to him was still a raw open wound for this family which had not
healed in 10 years.

Later I found out there was not much of Honey buried here. He had died when
the family lived in the capital city, Belenta. They cremated him, as was
mandated by the Communist regime law, but the family got the hospital
attendants to cut out Honey's heart which was preserved in a little silver
box, kept in their apartment for years and eventually brought to the
farm. This was a pretty grisly story. (How could you sleep in the same room
as a box containing the mummified heart of a little boy? Ernie's parents
did exactly that for years). Knowing this led to me making sense of the
family's history. Yes, they had lived in Belenta, the city, until after the
revolution of 1989 overthrew the Communist regime. The farm in Proscot had
been owned by Ernie's uncle, his father's brother, but he moved to the West
in 1990 after travel restrictions were eased, and Ernie's father took over
the farm instead of letting it be confiscated by the state. That's how they
came to be here.

This is all super depressing, but my times with Ernie were not depressing
at all. There was a bit of a delicate dance to be done because his mother
and sisters didn't realize Ernie was gay and that I was his boyfriend. But
that said, he had free reign on the farm, and as Varandi society was very
male-dominated, he could determine what the rules were and it wasn't likely
his mother and sisters would question them. (In retrospect I believe they
knew what was going on between us, but chose to pretend they didn't
know). Officially, Ernie occupied a back bedroom of the farmhouse; he left
his mother in the master bedroom that she had shared with his father. But
everyone knew he also had a "private" bedroom in the root barn, which
everyone was forbidden even to approach. He spent four nights out of seven
in this private room. Usually during the day he would approach me privately
and say something like, "You vill come tonight, yah?" Of course I
would. After the women had gone to bed I would take a kerosene lantern,
creep out of the guest room and cross the yard to the root barn. I know
that I was observed doing this several times but no one said anything.

The root barn didn't have electricity. It was all lit by the soft glow of
kerosene lamps and candles. (This was at the very end of the 20th century!)
On one very memorable occasion I crept into Ernie's bedroom and saw him
already in bed, naked, laying there with his hands clasped behind his head,
and the pole of his hard penis was making a tent in the covers. He didn't
say a word. I put my kerosene lantern down on the floor, took off my shoes
and my shorts, got under the covers and started sucking him. He just laid
there enjoying it. Then he said very calmly, "Umpzhahe im gonzhar," ("I'm
going to cum in your mouth"), and he did, unloading a huge dose of his hot
salty cum down my throat. He sighed contentedly. He sucked me and I had a
shuddering orgasm, but honestly what I remember and like about this
experience was the pleasure I gave him. I went to sleep that night naked in
his bed, under the homespun covers, with Ernie's tattooed arm across my
chest. I had an extraordinarily sexy dream that night. I dreamt Ernie and I
were making love in a beautiful meadow full of pale yellow flowers, and I
had an intense orgasm that manifested itself as a wet dream.

This was odd because I had not had a wet dream since age 13. I woke up that
night, hours later, and Ernie's hand was around my balls. Maybe he tried to
masturbate me during the night but I never woke up. The sound of the
crickets outside the barn on that July night was very loud but also very
hypnotic and sleep-inducing and I remember the sound of the crickets
echoing in my head and my last conscious thought was, "Oh, I'm falling
asleep, this feels so good." Maybe Ernie put a spell on me to keep me
asleep while he masturbated me and made me cum. Perhaps he did other things
to me while I was asleep, not that I would have minded. In fact the idea of
him doing something like this was incredibly hot but I didn't even think of
it until the next day long after we were both awake and I didn't have the
guts to ask him. But I think he did probably do something to me that night,
with the help of some magic.

This next part sounds incredibly weird but I'll describe it as best I can
remember it. One night during this period I think Ernie put some kind of
spell on himself. I came to his bedroom in the root barn, lantern in hand,
and when I arrived I found Ernie laying on his bed, quivering, his eyes
wide open and his entire body stiff as a board, "planking" for real. He was
naked and his penis was rock hard, poking straight up out of his
groin. This was an unusual night because we had thunder and lightning in
the evening around dinner time and when I got to the barn it just started
raining, a hot summer thunderstorm. I put the lantern down on the floor and
said something like, hey man, what's up, are you all right? He just kept
laying there, his body shaking. I was seriously concerned that something
was wrong. There was drool coming out of his mouth. The tip of his dick was
oozing precum in a long steady stream, far more precum than he had ever
produced before. Lighting flashed and thunder rumbled outside. Then he
said, in a very loud and sharp voice, and without his usual accent,
"UNDERWEAR." I took this to mean that he wanted me to strip down to my
briefs, which I did. I got in bed next to him. His body was quaking. It was
really weird because I didn't know if this was normal, or if I should be
concerned.

I lay there for a minute, and, without knowing what else to do, I started
moving my hands over Ernie's chest and stomach. I did not touch his cock,
my thought was to build up to that. But he said, in that same strange
voice, "STOP." I recoiled, drawing my hands away. I was confused. Had I
offended him in some way?

What happened next was so strange I almost can't describe it. I was laying
on the bed next to him. Ernie was to my right. I thought he was laying on
his back, as I was, but in the next few seconds it felt like he was on top
of me, although his weight was not on me. He was facing me, breathing in my
face, like he was levitating a couple of inches above my body. His hands
reached down to my groin area. I heard the sound of tearing fabric and I
realized he was literally ripping the crotch of my briefs open. There were
two layers of fabric and he very roughly tore a gash in each one and my
dick was accessible, poking through the torn fabric. He started
masturbating me. There was no lube, but this was the silkiest, warmest,
smoothest hand job I ever received. I also felt a strange rounded pressure
on my anus. Maybe it was Ernie's finger but it had never felt like that
before; it felt almost smaller, its head more rounded, and it slid inside
me easily without the need for any lubrication. When this strange force
pushed down on my prostate I ejaculated instantly. The orgasm was so
intense it nearly split my head apart. The force inside me seemed to change
shape. It spread my butt cheeks apart and slid out very gently. The
penetration had occurred without the slightest bit of pain, and it left
nothing wet in its wake as if Ernie had ejaculated inside me, a feeling I
was generally familiar with. This was some kind of very precise sexual
magic.

Suddenly I realized that I was no longer laying on the bed. I was
levitating above it, maybe six inches or so. I knew this because in the
next few seconds whatever invisible force was holding me in midair started
to turn me over. It was like being in zero gravity. I gasped and was like,
"What the hell's going on?" but Ernie said, in his strange trance voice,
"QUIET." I said nothing more, and it was like I couldn't speak even if I
wanted to. Now I was hovering in midair above the bed, face-down, with
Ernie levitating on top of me, but again his weight was not on me at
all. He reached down again, grabbed the fabric of my briefs with both hands
and tore a vertical gash right up the butt of my underwear. His echoing
commanding voice said, "SPREAD LEGS." As he said this lightning flashed and
thunder rumbled outside and a few seconds later it started to rain
heavily. I spread my thighs as far apart as possible. A moment later he
penetrated me.

I know it sounds crazy but I can only report what I experienced. I was
levitating about 6 inches off the bed, and Ernie, hovering above me,
plunged his dick into my ass but it never felt like his weight was on top
of me. Whatever spell me used completely eliminated any pain and I could
concentrate on the wonderful full feeling of his penis inside me. We didn't
need any lube either; his dick felt like it was secreting its own oil and
it slid in and out of me with little resistance. His breath grew shorter
and more ragged as he fucked me. He gasped, and in that weird hypnotic
voice he said two words, "I CUM." I felt his big dick exploding in my
ass. After he shot his seed into me Ernie's softening member gently slid
out of me. He put his arms around me and slowly we descended until we were
laying on the bed, not levitating. It was a very gentle thing.

When we were laying on the bed, Ernie's thick tattooed arms around me, he
said two more words in the hypnotic voice: "SLEEP NOW." I lost
consciousness instantly. I woke up hours later but it seemed like no time
had passed yet and I was incredibly relaxed. The morning sun was
shining. Ernie had already gotten up; he was gone from the bed. A chicken
was perched in the root barn window, clucking repetitively. The ground
outside was wet as if the rain had ended not long before. I was still in my
underwear but it was in rags with huge vertical gashes in the groin and up
the butt and all of my private areas were exposed, so I might as well have
been naked.

I had just raised my head up off the pillow when Ernie came into the
bedroom naked, his long hair wet from the shower and he was toweling
off. In his normal voice he said, "Oh, Danny! You are avake. Ve hef
breakfast, yah?" He did not acknowledge what had happened last night, but
it didn't matter. It was like a dream. A very sexy dream.

More to come...



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