Hanna was sitting in the Pierced Boar tavern in the village of Morrovale. She was perched beside her best friend Sharesh, the Rakasta, on one of the tavern's bar stools. Hanna had one of the 'special' stools, which were noticeably taller, to accommodate the halflings' tendency to be three feet in height or less. Her sizable bare feet were propped onto the first rung down from the padded seat. There were other halflings dwelling near this village, several communities within a week's walk, but she had not come to visit them. Hanna had met plenty of halflings at home; she was out in the world to see other things, to find new experiences, and most of all, for a few weeks now, to see if she could bed a centaur.

Sharesh was a very different sort. She was dressed in a long cloak with a hood, to minimize her inhuman features. Being a humanoid feline could have its advantages, but it also had its drawbacks, such as people taking immediate and great notice of you. Near the feet of the stool her tail swished near the floor, always in motion, and she teased the tavern's resident cat with it unconsciously.

It might be considered laughable that a halfling would wish to even try to bed a centaur, but for one to actually think she could pull it off was beyond reason. Sharesh attempted to tell her so.

"You will get yourself killed, Hanna, if you try that." Sharesh said. She hooked her clawed thumb toward the door, and thence to the stables. Her feline face had concern on it, but her huge emerald green eyes were glittering with amusement.

Hanna shrugged and combed her fingers through the shoulder-length curls of her honey-colored hair. "It's like religion, I suppose." Hanna said, her head tilting slightly. "I simply have faith in myself." Then she giggled. "Besides, I have a plan." She looked out the door, focusing her brown eyes past the field between the tavern and the village's public stables. In the stables' paddock, three male centaurs were sunning themselves. They had just arrived in Morrovale from some faraway land and were resting before continuing their journey to their homelands. Their arrival in the little village had caused quite a stir, but the two girls were used to such goings on. Additionally, they were seeking centaurs, or at the least Hanna was.

Sharesh believed she had a more reasonable grasp of the scope of this situation. She had once bedded a half ogre, and had spent a week recovering from it. That was despite her incredible agility and resilience. And he had been being gentle with her. For this particular young rakasta, a week without some play had been a sore trial.

Now Hanna wished to achieve one of the greatest achievements of cross-species adventurers: To accommodate a centaur. Given that a centaur's One-given equipment was nearly the length of Hanna's arm, it would be unfeasible. But Hanna was insistent. Sharesh had acquired an alchemical potion of healing should things go awry, or worse yet, should Hanna succeed.

Her little friend gulped down another shot of liquid courage and called to Tammer, the barkeep. "Another please, Tammer. I can still feel my toes." She said, breaking into a fit of giggling.

The bartender had to be a hundred if he was a day. He walked down the bar and presented her with another shot of rum, taking away her old glass. He stopped moving for a moment and smiled at the girls. "You two are a sight for sore eyes, I must say." He said. "I've not seen the likes of you for years, such pretty lasses in my bar."

The two beamed under the compliment, and cooed over the aged man for a few moments, and Sharesh thought she might just give this gallant gentleman a snuggle tonight, as a proper show of gratitude for someone who had served the world well. To Sharesh, bartenders were a hallowed class, and deserved respect and honor, among other expressions of gratitude.

She leaned close to him and said. "You wouldn't be sleeping alone tonight would you?" One of her hands moved to just under his chin, and a single claw slid from its protective sheath, gently scratching along his jaw line. A tiny vibration of a purr crept into her breathy voice, as well, just to make the question more inviting.

Tammer laughed. "I guess I will, because ain't no young beauty like you going to give me a tumble." He said, smiling at the girls. He turned and headed down the bar to deal with other demanding patrons, but the smile remained on his wrinkled face. As he took the men's orders, he kept casting his green eyes back toward the rakasta in brief, furtive glances.

"Hmm." Sharesh murmured. "I wouldn't be too sure, old man." She smiled a predatory smile, her long fangs flashing.

Hanna eyed her friend. "You'll bed anyone with a pulse won't you?" She asked, patting Sharesh's long, gray furred leg.

"Mmm-hmm" The Sharesh said, and looked down at her friend's hand, then slowly up her arm to her pretty oval face. "Including you, little one, if you keep stroking my thigh." She winked at her halfling companion. She turned on the stool, and Hanna's hand was forced by the changing angles to slide far up the muscular thigh, dangerously close to Sharesh's loincloth. The fur was soft and warm under the halfling's hand.

The halfling looked down and said. "You tempt me, Sharesh, you really do." Then she looked back up, meeting the taller woman's eyes. "But you know women aren't really my mug of beer." Then she looked down again, her brown eyes growing wistful. "But, I find myself thinking more and more often of thinking of changing mugs." She rubbed the soft fur of the cat's thigh a bit more, and then retrieved her errant hand.

Sharesh said, "Whenever you're ready, let me know. I'll bring you over gently, or not, by your preference." Her very large eyes started watching the bartender again. She paused a moment, speaking without taking her eyes off of Tammer. "You know what your planning is impossible."

Hanna said. "It is no such thing, I've planned for the differences in size and such. I will bring the centaur off inside me and I'll not use my hands, as I hear human women have to do." The halfling mimed holding onto something huge and tumescent between her legs.

The cat sighed. "I wager three marks of silver that you cannot." She said with an authoritative tone in her voice. The gentle swishing of her long tail became swifter and had more sharp movements in it, infuriating the tavern's rat-catcher.

"I will cover that bet, cat girl." Said Hanna. "I'll even sweeten the deal and I'll let you take me to bed if I cannot, as well." Then she giggled. "Not that I probably won't go willingly enough soon, anyway."

"Very well, you have till midnight, then." The cat-girl pronounced, looking over at the expensive water clock in the corner.

The halfling dropped off of her stool, and stood on wobbly legs. "Okay, then, I'm off." She said. She headed out the door, toward the paddock, with a look of determination on her small, cute face.

Holding her drink in her hand, she watched her friend walk out. Sharesh shook her head mournfully and fingered the pouch with the emergency potion. She hoped it wouldn't be needed. Hanna would get one look at the swinging organ of the centaur and bolt, she hoped. She held up her empty glass. "Bartender, I need another drink." She said.

Tammer came back down to her. "You and your little friend can sure pack it away." He said, chuckling. The smile he adopted caused some of the wrinkles marking his age to deepen, but also showed Sharesh that he was a man who had always smiled a lot.

Sharesh looked at him oddly, he thought, and then said. "Something tells me you can 'pack it away' as well, grayhair." She smiled at him, her deeply cleft cat's lip causing the smile to be very broad and toothy. When he handed her the drink, she wrapped her hand around his and extended her long claws. He couldn't pull away without lacerating himself. "Will you grace me with your presence tonight, Tammer?" She asked, sweetly. "I would dearly love to share your warmth." She was purring full strength now, and her eyes nearly glowed with intensity. Standing from the stool, her cloak had fallen open and Tammer regarded the long, very well shaped and gray-furred body as it was revealed to him and gulped visibly. Her small loincloth and abbreviated half-tunic concealed little, and what he did see was very much to his liking. He even let his eyes wander down her legs, where she had clawed feet perched on the bottom rung of the stool's cross-members. The legs were flawless, even with their backwards knees.

Tammer's eyes grew wide. "Lady, if I thought I would do anything but disappoint you, I would quite happily keep you company." He said and chuckled again, though this one sounded forced. "You're too hot blooded for my old bones. You'd snap me like kindling. There are plenty of young lads about the place, and you know you could pick your favorite, or even favorites."

"You underestimate yourself, grayhair." She said and leaned over the bar to where her small triangular nose was nearly touching his. "You have one more night of wild abandon in you, I can smell it." She paused, inhaling deeply. "And I will have it." Claws slid through his salt and pepper hair as she stroked the back of his head with her free hand, his whole scalp tingled with the gentle, dangerous contact. She then sat back, smiling. "You will not sleep alone this night, even if you do not touch me." She retracted her claws and sipped her drink. This drink, she noticed, was apparently on the house, for the barkeep had wandered off down the bar with a dazed look and did not ask for payment.

Outside, Hanna was nervously approaching the three centaurs. Two were dozing, and the third was mending a saddlebag with some rawhide strips and a huge needle. She thought he was very handsome, with craggy features and rippling muscles on his chest and arms. His equine body showed well-developed muscles under its fine layer of stiff fur. He was power incarnate, so far as she could tell, and could easily kill a man without weapons. The thought of all that power, bound to one mind, made her loins warm.

At her approach, he looked up and said. "Hail, smallfoot." He wore a large smile, displaying a set of large chisel-shaped teeth behind a wide, smiling mouth with soft-looking lips.

Hanna walked up to the fence of the paddock, and then leaned both arms on its middle rail, resting her head on her folded, well-tanned arms. "Well met, proudmane." She said, letting her eyes roam over his long form.

He looked a bit nervous for a moment, then smiled again. "Did Hemlak put you up to this?" He asked.

"I don't know who Hemlak is, but I put me up to 'this' whatever it is." Hanna said. Full, pink lips parted as she smiled sweetly. "I wanted to ask you if you'd like to walk with me a short while? I've never met a centaur before, and would learn more of your people."

The centaur rose off his haunches, he was almost five foot tall at the shoulders of his equine lower half, almost eight to the top of his head. She craned her head back to watch his handsome face. Then her eyes cast downward, over his body and the large sheath that housed his maleness.

"I will walk with you, smallfoot, for I have need to stretch road-weary muscles." The centaur said, smiling. "But I would know your name first."

She looked up and smiled herself. "Hanna," she said, "Hanna Undertoe." She was almost stammering. She chided herself inside for sounding like a stunned schoolgirl. In her almost thirty years, she had never before done that.

He reached down a huge hand and took hers. "I am Boral Ironhoof." He said, then his forelegs knelt and he leaned down and kissed her tiny hand. "And I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Hanna Undertoe." He rose back to his feet and towered over her again. "If it would not offend you, I would bear you for this walk." He pointed to his large back, his big brown eyes hopeful.

"It certainly would not." She said. "It will save me much craning of my neck and yelling." She giggled, and he laughed. He then picked her up under her armpits and she reflexively grabbed his forearms. She thrilled at the powerful hands and the touch of his skin, soft and smooth. He sat her upon his wide back and she tried to find a position that was ladylike, ending up sidesaddle near his human back. He started to walk, gently and slowly. "My goodness, you are strong." She said. Under her rump, she could feel the mighty shoulders muscles that moved his forelegs flexing and bunching. The sensation was utterly thrilling to her.

"You are a small burden, Hanna." He said. "But a pleasant one." He smiled over his shoulder.

Under the guise of steadying herself, she grabbed his waist, just above where his pelvis would be on a human, and gently rubbed her fingers there as she held on. She felt a small shift in his gait as she did this, and knew that they were as sensitive there as other men, and in much the same ways. She smiled to herself.

"It grows dark soon, smallfoot." He said. "Mind you if I continue? My night sight is sufficient, and I will protect you if harm seeks us out."

She smiled into his back and said. "I feel very safe with you, Boral, You can take me wherever you like." He reached back and stroked her back and she looked up into his charming smile again. Her little heart was beating fast now. She thought to herself that this thing might just happen.

They reached the edge of the small village that was Morrovale. "Would you like me to run?" He asked, crouching and sidestepping like a horse itching to race. "I have not all day, and my blood yearns for it." His voice was full of eager energy, and not altogether for running.

"Please do, but I've nothing to hold onto back here." She said, looking about for handholds.

He reached behind himself. "Then we will try this." He said, then lifted her to his chest and pulled her back tight to his ribs, folding his huge muscular arms over her. She was nearly panting at this intimate contact. "Ready?"

"R... ready." She replied in a gasp as she moved her legs apart and folded her shins to either side of his broad and tightly muscled stomach. Like an arrow he launched. His hindquarters gathered under him, sinking low to the ground, then he sprang forward. She could hear his hooves on the ground, thudding like her heart was now. The muscles of his arms flexed and stretched to hold her firmly to him and keep her as steady as he could. The road turned a corner then opened to a long grass-lined straight away. He accelerated forward, nearly doubling his speed. The hooves of his feet were a blur as they thundered down the grassy stretch beside the road. The wind was now howling in her ears and her eyes were watering. Excitement was building deep down in her body, for she had never before moved at such an exhilarating pace. The realization struck her that this massive, powerful, and apparently quite sweet man was showing off for her. This thought caused her to giggle as it ran on to the thought that she had his interest, now to win his ardor. As he reached the end of the large clearing he slowed to a canter and turned, aiming himself back toward town.

"Ready for another go?" He asked. His thumbs slid over her ribs gently and sent exciting pulses of tension through her curvaceous little body.

She smiled up at him. When he looked down, she reached up with both hands and grabbed the forelocks of his great shaggy mane that grew from the top of his head then down his spine. His head followed the motion when she pulled him down to her, and their lips met. Her tongue explored his lips, then parted them and entered his mouth. She felt his thick tongue push back then into her own mouth. Deeper his tongue slid, then she realized he had a horse's tongue, or something akin to it.

Luckily for her, her neck was already stretched and all she had to do was swallow, with a simple and practiced flexing of her neck, she took his tongue deeper, then deeper still, until its full measure had left his mouth and he moaned. Hanna relished the feeling of his flexible, smooth tongue stretching her throat gently. She had known humans whose phalluses did not fill her so completely. The muscles of her neck flexed and her mouth sucked upon the extended tongue a long moment. Finally, she released it, allowing him to draw it back in, and then pulled her slim, short fingers free of his hair.

He rose and sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. "By the Great Fields." He said, panting now, even more than he had from the run. "That was something I never thought to feel." He kissed her again, but gently, and did not part lips.

She giggled. "Me either, Boral." She said, and then rubbed his powerfully corded neck with both hands. "I would rather we walk back to town." She said. "If it's all the same to you." A smile and a single finger pointing at the ground caused him to set her gently on the grassy roadside as he hunkered down right in front of her. His head was now only about two feet too high for her. She reached up and he obligingly leaned down. Taking his large head in both hands, she kissed him again, teasing forth his tongue and again sucking it down her long throat. He groaned as he felt immense pleasure within her mouth. This time, when she released his tongue, it was her that was gasping for air. Still panting, she hugged his ribcage then started walking around to his flank.

Tiny fingers explored the massive muscle bundles of his forelegs and he moaned in pleasure as she rubbed and soothed them with long, slow motions. The same procedure was practiced upon his equine ribcage, her fingers flowing over the serrated muscle ridges. The cooling sweat that covered his entire body, she would have thought, should make him smell like a horse. He smelled much more like a normal man, who had just run two miles. She nuzzled into his flank, kissing his ribs and rubbing her cheek on the stiff, short fur.

Then she explored farther down his flank, her fingers ran over the softer lower abdomen then onto his powerfully muscled rump. Again, she stopped to massage his tensed running muscles. As she rubbed and ministered to his tensions, he rolled toward her a little with a groan of pleasure, presenting more of his back to her. "Your touch is very soothing, littlefoot." He said.