The Darkmoor Inn, an imposing structure. The thick log, sealed to keep out the elements, and the large taproom able to accommodate many people at one time. Tables and benches in the middle and more benches lining the walls. The drink was more than fair in taste as was the food that was prepared in a large kitchen attached to the taproom. For travelers, there were accommodations at the stairway to the second and third floors.
The Darkmoor Inn
The wind blowing through the trees surrounding the huge log structure and outbuildings. The cold needles of rain, knifing into all sitting near the door as it opens into the great room of the Inn. Feeling a shiver as the cool air caresses the thin material of my skirt as I wend my way through the crowded taproom. The closely bunched tables and benches filled almost to capacity with travelers, and farmers and merchants and tradesmen and mercenary soldiers and who know who else is among this crowd.
Slapping the tankards onto the table and filling them from the heavy pitcher with one hand, as my other hand duels with the intruding hands of those around me. You learn quickly here that you need one hand to protect your virtue in a place like this as you work. Slapping away hands from lifting my skirt and pinching and fondling my breasts. Slapping but not too hard, you don't want to totally discourage trade, you want them to come back and try again, only this time with coin in hand.
Slipping the coin for the ale in my pocket and then checking at the table as I head back to the barkeep with my half full pitcher. Filling the empty tankards and topping off others. A word or two with those that I pass, trying to be pleasant, in spite of some of the men that frequent or stop in the Inn.
The knack of keeping them from being pissed off, one I was slow at learning in the beginning of my tenure here at the Darkmoor Inn. How often I would get a good caning when the place mostly emptied out. I am sure that the caning was as much for John Baker's pleasure as it was to teach me that I should be pleasant to all customers. The flush of his face and the touch of his calloused hands on my ass cheeks and thighs when he was done, was enough to let me know that he was sexually excited. That and the bulge in his britches and a couple of times the wet spot where his lump at wet his pants.
Oh, I was not his favorite, and he didn't particularly pick on me, he just liked to see all of the girls naked and touch them. So any mistake was rewarded properly to keep us in line and to encourage us to be nice to the men in the bar, and even the occasional woman that might sit in the taproom. Most female customers took their meals in their rooms and only sat in the great room when it was not packed with crude men.
Tonight with the storm raging outside, many who might have camped along the road while traveling, have taken to the safe harbor of the sturdy log structure. Needless to say that the warm walls and food and the flowing drink didn't help in making their decision.
The Darkmoor Inn, an imposing structure. The thick log, sealed to keep out the elements, and the large taproom able to accommodate many people at one time. Tables and benches in the middle and more benches lining the walls. The drink was more than fair in taste as was the food that was prepared in a large kitchen attached to the taproom. For travelers, there were accommodations at the stairway to the second and third floors. The second having more comfortable rooms and the third, a warm and dry place to spend a night, maybe sharing with others and cramped; but protected from the elements. A stable and blacksmith shop would care for the horses and carriages. The Darkmoor Inn, a safe refuge along the King's Highway, a way station.
This a typical night for this time of year, the early darkness coupled with the storm, making it extra dark, windy, wet, and cold. A great combination to encourage men to spend hours talking and drinking and some wrenching. The men all the same when they enter the great room for some relaxing time, the only difference between farmer and rich landlord, was the type of drink and cost of it. The food the same for all and the bar maids and scullery maids all the same price, the is fixed unless you could wheedle more from the man.
The heat from the large open fireplaces on opposite sides of the room and the heat from the kitchen in back, keeping all warm expect for those unlucky to be near the entrance. Some musicians playing a lilting tune or a singer or bard reciting a poem the entertainment, except for and occasional fight, that ends quickly with the participants outside or some other entertainment localized that might involve women.
The noise and scents so normal and comforting, as I wend my way through the tables to the kitchen and back to bring out platters of food for the clientelle. Beads of sweat forming under my hair on the nape of my neck and others beads, slipping down my chest, between the cleavage that barely existing and more at the crease of my thighs and body. A thankfully warm night inside as I feel the touches of men taking advantage of my encumbered hands. Reaching for my breasts or a thigh or squeezing at my ass cheeks.
Hips swiveling as I walk, eluding some hands; but not all. The serving girls, going non-stop from bar or kitchen to the closely packed tables and benches. Slapping down tankards of ale on the table of the farmers, throwing their dice as their meager piles of coin shift from one to the other.
Keeping tally of who would be the main winner for the night. Making their regular monthly visit to the tavern, as they spent their savings from doing odd jobs and sales from the market this morning. They will spend the night and off till their farms in the morning.
Next table a few sailors, and why they are at the Inn would be a great question as there are no sailing ships here in the depths of the forest.
A story maybe I will hear later if I get time to talk with them for a few minutes or they have money to spend on me for a few minutes of my time.
We hustle when the Inn is busy; but are allowed to spend time with the customers if there is a chance of an exchange of coin which a percentage goes to the tavern owner. A few more drinks and the sailors might want to tell me a tale or two. Smiling on the stories I have heard, that lead up to a more physical conversation of bodies.
Some mercenaries, merchants, soldiers and just travelers, keeping dry and wetting their whistles. Their having to be some business tonight, but nothing much happening for any of the wenches.
Taking a sip of ale, as I wipe my hands on my hips and then push my damp hair back of my shoulders. The long dark hair the source of my name, Raven. My face nothing special, long nose and wide mouth and lips, definitely keeping me from being more then called pretty, well maybe I am beautiful deep into the hours of the night, when the men are seeing two of me with blurry eyes. My dress barely held up by the strips of material at my shoulders, a wide swath of flesh exposed in the front, showing off the pushed of breast flesh and the hint of cleavage. The hidden nipples, quite visible through the thin material of my dress and the dampness of the sweat, making it more transparent. The thick nubs pushing, darting the pushed up front.
The corset tied to give me cleavage, tight on my waist and stomach, something I will do away with as the night wear on and not needing to show off what I really don't have. My skirt full and thin, loose around my legs thankfully, as I maneuver easily in the tight confines of the room.
Unfortunately easy to flip up and reach under as men cop a feel or look. And not wearing stockings or any undergarments, my dress is my thin defense to the bare skin of my body. My hips wider than one might like for such a small breasted woman, and my legs long and toned. Age hasn't taken its toll yet on the firmness of my body.
Add to that the special potion that the tavern keeper has the local apothecary give us, I have not had to worry about a pregnancy from my duties as bar wench. It is not that he cares, but procuring the potent, keeps us from being unsightly to a man who wants a somewhat becoming woman. He actually has one woman that keeps becoming pregnant for those men that want to do a woman in that condition. Enough said on that.
Looking and see some men waving for refills, I weave once again to refill the empties and collect the coin. Stepping past a flailing hand and finding myself sitting on the lap of a rascally older gentleman. Laughing as I feel his hand taking liberties with my breasts, letting him have a few seconds of fun, then gently removing his hands from my breasts as I lean to kiss his lips quickly. As I go to stand up again, his hand holding me to his lap, hands grasping my waist, as his mouth kisses the top of my breasts.
My hands raising his head to kiss once more, whispering in his ear softly, "you want to play, you have to pay kind Sir. His hands still fumbling at my waist, as he looks up to my face. Then one hand releasing my waist and reaching for a handful of coin. Pressing it into my palm as I wiggle delightfully on his lap. Feeling the telltale bulge beneath my cheeks as I sway and slide on his lap. Being rewarded with another coin dropping into my palm as I look down. Seeing that he more then has the price rewarded by John the tavern owner, I lean down and kiss the sweating man hard on his lips, my tongue becoming pointy, as I push it into his warm wet and not so wonderful tasting mouth.
The smile still on my lips and in my eyes, as I deep kiss the older gent. Turning in his lap, till I am leaning against his chest, lifting and feeling his hands on my arse cheeks, fingers tightening and squeezing the soft yielding flesh, as I press my breasts against him. Sitting up straight and lifting one then the other from the front of my dress, the long thick nipples hard nub that I press to his face to suckle, first one then the other. Feeling the tingle as his teeth and lips work the sensitive tissue.
One of his hand moving around from my arse cheek to pull my skirt up my thigh, exposing the soft smooth velvety flesh. His rougher hands sliding against the warmth of my inner thighs as they open to his touch. Hearing as well as feeling when his fingers reach the bare pubes of my mound. My thighs opening more as the fingers probe against the puffy ridges of flesh, guarding the entrance to my cunny. Letting the thick stubs of his fingers push the walls apart, probing into the wet flesh of the opening and then walls.
Giving them a welcoming squeeze as he fucks deeper, his fingers buried into my wetness.
Not caring that my lower body is exposed as I lay back on the table top and pull my legs up heels on the bench as my thighs swing open wide.
Letting him feast his eyes on the fat cunt lips and the wet walls as he pulls his finger out and then pushes them back into my tunnel. Seeing others at surrounding tables looking between my legs at the slick flesh as his wet fingers pull free. My cunt lips gapping slightly to the avarious glances, knowing how slutty I must look, but also knowing that I am firing up the imaginations and needs of the mostly crowd of men.
Stacking the small piles of coin neatly on the table with one hand, as my other works at the buttons of his groin, freeing his swollen prick from the confines of his britches. Giving him and appreciative groan of arousal as I stroke the engorged cock with my fingers.
Reaching in and slipping out his fat hairy nut sack as I continued to work his shaft with my fingers. Slipping my legs to the floor as I kneel down and put my lips to the dark red crown. Tasting the musk of a tightly confined cock on my lips. Parting them and suckling the head like a babe to a teat. The comments swirling around as I concentrate on the cock in my mouth. Fingers stroking and pulling at the shaft as my head bobs on the mushroom shaped head. Raising my legs and pushing my mouth down the shaft, feeling the veiny warmth of the texture of his prick as I take more into my mouth.
Rewarded with a groan, as my cheeks pull in and then let out, sucking at the delectable cap. Feeling the wetness between my legs, as my thighs tense and squeeze at my fat cuny lips. His hand in my hair and the wrapping the long dark strands with his fingers and forcing my mouth over his cock, till I can feel the blunt tip tickling and blocking my throat. Tears welling in my eyes as the thick gland fills my throat and a gasp for air. My body bucking and trembling till he releases and pulls my hair hard, yanking my mouth off of his cock.
Looking up at him as he says, "I want to fuck you wench." Pushing myself up and settling myself in a straddle over his thighs. My leaking cunt lips finding his shaft and sliding down till the knob spears the entrance to my cunny. My eyes wide and rolling back in my head as my body slaps hard onto his lap. The full length and girth of his cock embedded deep in my wet cunt. Quickly clenching on his cock, then again, rewarded with loud groans every time I squeeze his cock hard, holding and releasing.
Then using my feet to raise and lower my body on his cock, feeling him humping up to meet each lowering of my body. The wet slap of flesh loud in our part of the room. I can smell the scent of my skanky cunt, as my grease lubes and oozes from my hole with each stroke. Suctioned out to permeate the immediate area with the smell of raw sexual arousal. Working his cock hard with my much younger muscles, milking his cock, till his hands grip my shoulders and fingers digging into the tender flesh holding me tight to his crock.
Feeling his hips bucking as he spews his creamy white seed deep into my nether region, coating my walls with his cum. My face close to his as I see the sweat pouring down his red face, as he grunts and groans his way to a satisfying climax. My body matching his, as I moan loudly with my faux release. Giving him the satisfaction of thinking he made me cum with him.
My walls squeezing and milking his cock, till he lightly pushes me from his body. One hand reaching to catch the stream of white seed as he pulls free and the gush of cum slips from my messy lips.
Sliding to the floor and licking at his softening penis, tasting his cream and my juice on his wilting prick. Neatly tucking the nestling worm back into its warm den and his lighter ball sack also. Noting with satisfaction the widening wet spot on the crotch of his breeches. A soft kiss on the bulge as I look up once more into his eyes. My soft smile widening as I hear the sound of another coin striking the small pile.
Turning and walking quickly as my skirt falls down to cover my thighs again, to the bar and then the kitchen. Putting my coin down and watching as John marks down his share and mine. One hand swiping under my skirt to clean the excess cum from my cunt and legs, licking it from my hand as I return to refill tankards in the area of the man I just fucked. Remembering the feel of the hands that grasped at my skirt and thinking I might have another customer and right in the respect, as I give a man a nice blow job on a bench. The night lengthening and the men lighter headed, as their purses open and myself and the other girls, grudgingly are doing very well for ourselves.
Concealing a few extra coins I made in a special reinforced pocket in the waistband of my skirt. The opening able to hold one coin at a time and keep them from clinking against each other.
The crowd thinning slowly as one then another either wander out of the Inn, or up the stairs to their room for the night. Still not having made a connection with a man willing to pay for my services for the night; but with the number of men that I have already serviced, not surprised.
Sometimes we don't even get to wipe the seed from between our legs when another is using the seed for lube.
As the busy night slows, I am able to watch the farmers at their game and appraised myself of who the one winning might be at the time. Finally the coins exchanging hands and becoming the wealth of one young farmer.
Smiling as I walk by and feeling the hand of one of the farmers reaching to my arm, stopping me. "We are ready." Nodding my head in assent. "I will meet you in a little bit." Another wider smile from me as I refill a few more tankards and bring back empties to the bar. "I have to take care of the farmers, I will be back in a little bit if you don't mind?" John smiling his assent.
Grabbing a thread bare blanket and pulling it over me to stop the bite of the still stinging and frigid rain, as I run barefooted to the welcoming light and semi-warmth of the barn. Putting down my blanket on the wall of a stall and then undoing the ties of my corset and pulling my skirt over my head to stand naked in the damp ground. One of the farmers walking over to me and diligently counting out the coin to the exact amount. Not your usual price; but the one set for these men. Taking the coin and putting it near my skirt and then moving to the center of the barn. The lantern light illuminating the men as they form in a circle around me. Kneeling down on all fours, my knees spreading wide apart, exposing the fat swollen lips of my cunt, from between my thighs from behind. My small breasts hanging straight down, jiggling gently as I shift on my hands and knees.
My head raising to look at the man in front of me and then watching as he pulls his cock from his breeches. Watching as he steps up and my mouth opens and he pushes his cock against my lips and into my warm wet mouth.
Feeling his cock swelling as I suckle it slowly, licking around the shaft, and pulling on the head, my mouth a fuck hole for his prick as it swells large and firmer. The other men standing around, their cocks hanging from their pants, some hard and bobbing, others soft worms of flesh at present.
Finally the man in front of me pulling his cock from my lips and walking around behind me, feeling his hand between my legs, teasing the fat cunt lips and pressing in for a moment, then slipping out again as he moves close between my spread legs. His cock slipping into my open and welcoming cunt. The shaft sliding in with ease, as it fills my tunnel and pushes the walls back. Moaning as my head hangs down, as I shift on my knees, hips wriggling as the farmer pumps his cock in and out of my wet cunny.
Then feeling my head lifted as a second farmer shoves his fat prick against my lips. Mouth opening and tongue sliding out once again to lick and tee the dark headed cock. Feeling the new prick filling my mouth, stretching my lips open and then lodging against a cheek, as my lips seal around it.
Rocking on my hands and knees as the one in front and the one behind penetrate my body. Being skewered and rocking to their mantic rhythm as one and then the other slaps against my wet cunt or my drooling mouth. My hair flying around my face and shoulder as the men fuck more wildly into my orifices. Then feeling the warm splat of seed being shot onto my back and ass, as one of the other farmers, who had been jerking off around me, spews his cream in a jerky eruption.
My body rocking as my walls and mouth work like two cunts, grasping and feeling the cock moving against the rings I form with my openings. The cool currents that wash over my body letting me know that others have opened the barn door and come into watch.
Looking up through the dampness of my hair, seeing the stablemaster and his assistant now watching the circle of farmers, their own cock in hand and jerking.
Another sticky spew of cum coating my back and hair and then another, before I feel the man in my mouth jerking with a loud groan, and his warm seed coating my mouth and slipping down my raw throat. My lips aching from clenching tight on the shaft and moaning with a loud gasp as the blunt head pops out of my mouth and the next spurt of his cum coats my face with sticky rope of white. The man milking his cock onto my face, rubbing more of his sticky goo on my cheeks and in the damp strands of my hair. My tongue trying to help as he steps back and another man jerks off in front of my face. My head lifted high, as I see the piss hole widen and the first line of sticky cream arch onto my eyebrow and hang down draping over one eye, as more splatter my chin and neck and breasts. The blasts of cum covering my body as another coats me with his scum.
My eyes trying to blink away the cum coating the eye with a white scum. Feeling more dripping onto my chest from my face and more hanging in an every stretching line till a rope of cum reaches from my hanging breast to the floor of the barn.
My cunt lips now sore and raw from the continued battering of the not able to remember at this point, man against my swollen and sensitive labia. The grunting of the man behind me signaling that he is close, as I tense my thighs and my inner flesh around his cock as it ripples along the tissue of my cunt. His hands holding me firmly to his body now, fingers digging harshly into my flesh as he spurts his fertile seed deep, coating my cunt walls with his cream, forcing it against the opening to my womb. A hard slap then another as he fills me with his frothy seed. Gasping as I feel my aching breasts wiggling beneath me, hissing as he holds me tight, his body tensing again as he empties into hole.
As I feel him slip out and his seed oozing from my bruised lips, I turn to see his semi-hard cock and move my mouth to clean it up his slick seed and my greasy juices. Enjoying the moan as my tongue laves his sensitive flesh, feeling it jerk and then swell against my lips and tongue as I remove my scent from his body.
Kneeling in front of him and giving his cock a soft kiss, as I feel another load of cum coating the front of my body, slicking my tummy and then sliding down to the "Y" of my body to coat my pussy with more seed.
Looking to see that this gift was from the stableman, his assistant watching wide eyed and still pulling on his mostly soft cock.
The last of the farmers coating my back and ass with more sticky goo.
Kneeling in the light of the lanterns, a circles of men around me and my body reflecting the wetness of the cream coating me, glinting in the orange light as the men tuck their cocks into their pants and walk out. My head looking at them and then to my dress hanging on the stall wall, seeing the stack of coins still in place.
Smiling weakly at the stableman as he comes over to me with a bucket of water and slowly pours it over my body. Hissing as the cold water touches my warm skin, shivering, nipples aching with the touch of the icy fingers of moisture and my lower body quivering, but the water washing away the worse of the scum from outside of me. My tongue still teasing the taste in my mouth as my fingers open my cunt lips and massage the flesh as my hips buck to force out the seed nestling inside of me. Kneeling in a puddle of water and skank and finally standing up, seeing the gaze of awe or is it fear in the eyes of the young assistant, as my still firm body is displayed as I reach for the burlap material handed to me to dry myself quickly.
I may have earned money for the Tavernkeeper; but I need to go back quickly and earn more or if it is empty or almost, to clean up the place for the night.
Slipping my dress over my body, corset in hand with my small pile of coins. A quick smile as I think that I have earned the farmers attention and money. A funny little game they play, one gets to fuck me from behind, one gets my mouth and the rest get to jerk off. It is money and not for me to think on what they do, just that they do it and to me.
Walking a little tenderly as I open the barn door and walk, splashing my bare feet into the cold puddles and enter the warmth of the Darkmoor Inn once more. Another night and a few more beat up coins to add to my stash, for when I am able to leave this place.............
Early morn breakfast of hard stale bread soaked in water and quickly to work in an old worn dress. Joining the other girls from the taproom, minus two that found a gentleman friend for the night, I pull my skirt up to my thighs and tuck it between my legs. Kneeling on the bare wooden floor, cleaning the stains with a stiff brush. The other girls on their knees like me or sweeping ahead of us. The smell down low nauseating in the morning, the taproom still cold as little wood has been added to the fires. A combination of fluids and solids staining the floor. Sliding forward with my bucket and brush, feeling the wetness on my legs, the dampness, seeping into my skirt. Cursing softly as a piece of skirt snags on a sliver of wood, tearing a small rip in the worn garment. Arms aching as we finish the taproom, many filthy buckets emptied in the process. The owner Jon, throwing a few logs of aromatic wood on the fire, the scent, masking the smells of the taproom.
Leaving the room, I hurry to the stream behind the Inn, carrying a worn shift, I shiver as my toes touch the cold water. I feel the bumps along my legs and arms, a smile replaces the look of shock at the feel of the water. As I quickly strip my dress from my body, I feel the small electric shock of it rubbing against my hardening nipples. Looking around as I stand naked, not seeing anyone, I step tentatively into the stream, feeling the cold water against my skin, hurrying to wash my body of the sweat and other stains and soils from the previous night. Rubbing the rough soap over my skin, feeling cleaner, feeling my teeth chattering as stand in the almost frigid water. Wondering if clean is worth this suffering. Wishing I was Jon's girl, so that I might have a warm bath, before he fucks me.
Throwing my shift quickly over my wet body, sliding into a pair of sandals. Quickly washing my dirty garments, and draping them over my arm, as I run up the bank of the stream, wending my way through the woods, hearing the spat of drops of rain and then a clap of thunder as I move quickly to the path leading to the Inn. My shift wet and hugging soggily at my body, as I reach the settlement. The thunder and lightning filling the sky with sound and light. Ducking into the blacksmith shop, I feel the instant warmth as the hot fires fill the building with heat. The clanging of the hammer on an anvil stopping as he looks up at me. His eyes meeting mine, then dropping to take in the wet shift, molded to my body. "Seems you are more than chilled this morning wench," eyes focused on the indents in my shift from my hard nipples. Large pebbles on the small mounds of my teats. Then seeing his eyes dropping to look at the roundness of my mound and the juncture of my legs, outlined with wet cloth.
Turning I look behind me at the puddles splashing muddy water, as the downpour turns the street into a small stream. My body jerking as I hear the thunder, my breath catching as I see the flash of lightning. I can feel the warmth of the open room on my backside as I watch for a few minutes, noting that the smithy has not returned to his work. Finally I hear the breathing of his bellows, as he strokes the fire. The intake and then the push of air as it blows to the fire. The crackling and flash as the room brightens with the rising flames. "You have a fine ass girl," turning at his words, feeling the cloth of my shift, wedged just barely between my cheeks, pulling it free, as I look at him. His body bare except for breeches and an apron covering his chest from sparks. A giggle escapes my lips. He looks up at me, a hammer in one brawny arm and pinchers in the other, holding a length of white hot metal. A coarse mat of hair covers his arms and shoulders. "What girl," a questioning look on his face? Shyly, looking at him, "I was thinking that if you caught fire you would burn forever with all the hair." Setting down his pinchers and hammer, he beckons me to him. Taking my cleaned dress from my hands, he spreads it on the back of a stool in the corner, sliding the stool to the fire.
"Would you like to dry the one you are wearing also?" His question with a turn of a smile on the ends of his lips. Feeling the damp clammy shift, clinging to my body, I stand by the fire, looking into it for a minute or so, then turning I lean forward, grasping the hem of my shift and pull it over my head. My eyes covered as my body uncovers. Knowing he is looking at the naked flesh, wondering what he might be thinking as he sees my hairless mound. Not an everyday look, most women like the extra warmth the mat of fur gives them, especially those that can't afford undergarments. Setting it on another stool, I turn to face the huge man, then step forward, feeling my nipples against the soft leather of his apron. standing on tiptoes, I touch my lips to his.
"Thank you, Master Smithy." Feeling his lips open in surprise, as his arms reach out to touch my arms and then push between, his fingers touching my nipples. Moaning softly, a quick wince of pain, as they squeeze too hard, feeling the heat of the room, heating my body, inside and out. His large hands mauling my small breasts, feeling them kneading and pulling on the long hard nipples, his eyes, watching his hands. The tip of his tongue, licking the corner of his mouth. Moaning softly, with the pain and pleasure, and most of all need. I push my chest to his fingers. I can feel my labia, swelling, my legs parting as I stand in place, first a few inches then more. The lips pulsing and radiating heat. Hearing the wet sound as they are stuck together and movement pulls them apart. Looking up at the big man, my hands pushing at his apron, lifting it away, as they touch the front of his breeches. Feeling lump swelling as my fingers move slowly along the lengthening shaft. Hearing his breathing audible as my fingers fumble at his breeches, finally exposing his penis. Not able to look down, but my fingers needing both hands to encircle, as they slide up and down on the shaft. Feeling the heat of his cock, the veins thick and distended. His hands squeezing harder on my breasts, tears forming in my eyes from the pain.
Wanting to remove his hands, finally feeling one release my right breast, looking down, seeing it covered with soot and black. His hand again on my arm, turning me around as a mere doll, and walking me forward, my stomach presses to the smooth surface of the anvil. His other hand pushed mine away from his manhood. Stepping back a little, I spread my legs, as I bend over the still warm iron.
Moving as I feel his shaft, no a sausage like finger, push at my swollen vulva, pushing into my wet valley, finger tracing along the slit. My hips press my puss to his digit. A couple of strokes with his finger and I feel it pull away, my body trying to follow, as a ham like hand pushes on my lower back, holding me to the anvil, I the material of his pant legs, against my knees and then his cock against my lips. Groaning in surprise, as with one stroke, he pushes deep into my warm moist hole. Feeling the tunnel pushed open and then grasping at the thick shaft of hot meat. Moaning in pleasure, as the cock fills and leaves my needy cunny in quick hard strokes. My index finger moving under me to rub at my clit, feeling it behind the protective hood. The bump growing as the room is quiet; but for the exhales of breath and the steady low moan from my mouth. The crackling of the fire and a wet squishy sound, as his cock massages the wetness of my pussy.
My body clenching at the huge cock.
My thighs are strained, as my body release a flood of juice on the cock, spasming on the anvil, another malleable ingot, for the smithy to mold.
His hands holding my waist and back, pinning me to the top of the anvil, his hard thighs banging against me, his muscled stomach, pushing against my soft ass cheeks. Trying to breathe as the hard fucking, brings me to another orgasm, feeling my nose pinched, hearing a panting in my ears, and realizing it is myself. Shaking on the anvil, as my body spasms, hips trying to push back. The pubic hair, scratching on my soft flesh. Feeling the thick swollen bone, throbbing in my cunt. My body milking at the long nipple, seeking his milk. Then feeling the spurt of hot seed into the depth of my womb. A loud grunt punctuating each spurt of his jism. His hand pushing hard on my back and squeezing tighter on my waist. Knowing I would have slid to the floor if his hands didn't hold me in a viselike grip. Long hard strokes, pounding my backside, my pussy rubbing against the hard iron, wishing I did have hair for some cushion. As the strokes continue, I can feel cum running down my thighs. The wet sound louder, as his cock whips the cum into a frothy liquid.
As he slows down, I notice my breasts are aching from rubbing on the rough wood of the anvil stand. Reaching for them, tears run down my face, so painful to the touch. Cushioning them with my hands as the last few strokes end with his cock pulling free with an audible pop. A rush of cum, along my left thigh as it pours from my cunnyhole. I feel his hands, lifting me from the anvil, and setting and steadying me on the floor. Looking down I see his cock, still semi-hard and long, the head dripping cum, staining the front of his breeches. "Thank you girl." His voice soft and tender, a contrast to his size.
Looking at him,"no, thank you Master Smith." Kneeling in front of him, I lift his cock to my lips, tongue licking at the tip, catching a drop of his seed. Lips swallowing the head and soft shaft, sucking slime from his shaft. Tasting my juices and his. Reaching down, I move my hand to my lips, feeling the moistness on them. Pulling them back through my labia, I bring them to my mouth, licking at the cum, enjoying the taste. Feeling that I was loved for a little bit.
"Come girl, you need to wash up." He takes hot water from a pot on his cooking fire and pours it in a bucket. Grabbing a clean rag, he hands it to me. "Clean yourself girl." He stands watching me, as he tucks his pricke back into his breeches. His eyes soft and gentle, as my hands move over my bruised body, black cleaning soot from my flesh and between my legs.
My breasts are red and raw, so very sensitive to each touch, even of the wet warm rag. My stomach, where it rode the anvil, is red and starting to show signs of bruising. He takes the rag and cleans the soot from my ass and back and legs.
Smiling down at me, he leans to kiss my lips, reaching to a corner, he lifts out a coin from a stoneware container. Shaking my head as I see this, "no need Master Smith, your warm water and comforting fire is payment enough, thank you." Sliding on the shift, I watch him for a few minutes till the rain abates, then with a quick squeeze of one of his huge hard hands, I take my work dress and run along the wooden walkway to the Inn's barn.
The Bull BhorrReport
Thanks for sharing, with a mighty beer to cheer. ::beer::