Trolling for Babes:

At age 18, as everyone knows, a young troll is out of his ancestral home, and told to go make a name for himself. Some people say this is a sure sign of how trolls are inhuman monsters to make their young go out into the world all alone. Others claim it's the wisest way or rearing young yet devised. Grendel, nameed for a great uncle who came to a bad end, didn't much care one way or the other. All he knew was that he'd grown up on the stories of humans out there, and he wanted to go and see what all the fuss was about.

Besides, as everyone also knows, trolls have monsterous sex drives, and Grendel was tired of making do with his hands. He'd always thought his name sake had been a bit odd anyways: Going into a human castle and stealing the MEN? No wonder he'd come to a bad end.

Grendel was a fine specimen of a young troll, about 7 and a half feet tall, with arms that reached from his shoulders to his knees. He was impressively muscled and could uproot a one foot thick pine tree with only a little effort. He wore a bearskin loin cloth to cover his massive cock, but nothing else. His green complectioned skin had always been the envy of his broodmates, and his fur was short and curly. He also carried a sword across his back and a pocketful of small stones for hunting.

He walked south from the Trollheim mountains, looking for signs of human habitation. He came across the occaisional logging party,but they were all stag affairs and he didn't feel the need to announce himself to their attention. After several days of walking through the woods he began to come to the first outlying farms.

These too, he skirted without molestig them until he had the great good fortune to see a yound woman step out of her family house to head towards the barn, where the cows were lowling for their morning milking. The young woman was shorter than he, being only 6 foot tall, but she was impressively muscled for such a small thing.

Grendel thought the reddish gold of her hair was a bit off putting, but her otherwise obvious health let him ignore that slight flaw. She was dressed simply in a tunic and trousers. Though simple fabric, they still clung to the young woman's impressive figure nicley, leaving Grendel little doubt that here was a woman.

A voice from the farmhouse called out as he started to sneak towards this vision of pulchritude. "Maeve, be sure to bring in some eggs when you come back after milking."

"Yes, mother."

Coming from the other side of the barn Grendel found it easy enough to sneak unseen to the door. There he saw Maeve crouched down, milking one of the three cows in the barn, her clothing stretched to the limit by her healthy figure. Grendel was meserized by the firm way her hands milked the cows udders. He licked his lips hoping he'd be able to convince her to milk something else,someday.