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Remains of the Day (Vulgrim & Sensualist)

Sensualist

Super-Earth
Joined
Sep 7, 2014
Location
New Zealand
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There was one advantage to an inn built on the edge of a crater, Garren Trant discovered as he slid into the pool: an unlimited supply of steaming hot water.

The Craghome Inn was perched precariously on an overlook above the tumbled, perpetually smoke-shrouded ruins of the Sunken City, like some vulture above a vast stony carcass. The inn served soldiers sent to guard the savage region, traders from far-off lands, pilgrims visiting the sight of a great battle of Light against Darkness, and adventurers seeking to delve the ruins – adventurers like Garren Trant, rogue, rake and renegade. It was a comfortable enough place despite its foreboding surrounds, with a spacious labyrinth of oak-beamed rooms, a waterwheel to grind flour for its famous mushroom dumplings and of course ample hotpools fed by water rising from the depths of Chthonia, the underworld where the forces of darkness had been driven back to.

Garren was scheduled to meet a sage – something of a fence of lore, to be more accurate – who he hoped would bring him the information he needed about the Daystone. The legendary gemstone wielded by the Bright Dukes in their struggle against the dark elves, deep spawn and worse that lurked beneath what was now the Sunken City. Powerful, sacred... and above all, priceless. He could almost feel the weight of gold he could get for it in the right circles. In the meantime, he had hours to kill, and a nice, hot soak would work the travel-kinks out of his back and legs.

A cheerful whistling sound wove its way into the bath house, and Garren spied a small form slipping amongst the wisps of steam. Small, lithe and shapely, Briana the halfling bar wench approached Garren's pool, a pewter jug resting on one slim hip. Though she barely topped three feet, the halfling woman was quite fetching, her hair a short coal-black bob, her breasts, beneath a plain white blouse that grew increasingly clingy in the damp heat pert and round as apples, her eyes playful and wicked.

“Master Trant?” she asked in a sweet, trilling voice, her eyes running down the man's bare chest and into the swirling, steam-shrouded waters. “Did you call for wine?”

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Garren heaved a tremendous sigh as he sank in to the steaming water, stretching out with his arms and placing them along the edges of the pool. While the man couldn't exactly be called 'wealthy," he was certainly well-off (as far as adventurers went, anyway). The bathhouse, usually reserved for visitors or guests of a certain kind of stature, had been made his own for the night, thanks to a moderate fee, and the thief was sure to make full use of it for as long as he remained. Not that the loss of coin hardly mattered to Garren, because it didn't. He'd be swimming in a sea of gold soon; he could almost taste it.

When the door creaked, Garren looked over, and, at first, he couldn't make anything or anyone out through the thin haze of the steam, but as Briana came forwards, he smirked, his hazel colored eyes looking up and down all three feet of her. "I did," he confirmed, flashing her a charming smile. "Forgive me, uh, I'd get up and pour it myself, but..." He gestured down at his impressive body, indicating the fact that he was naked. As for his wine glass, it sat on a small table in one corner of the room, along with some of his belongings, though the pile that made up Garren's clothes was located within arm's reach, a conveniently placed dagger hidden away just beneath his shirt and trousers. Well, one couldn't be too careful...

"You halflings have such pretty little faces," Garren mused. At this point he was just trying to get her to blush. Testing the waters, as the saying went, to see how Briana reacted. His eyes fell to her blouse (or, more specifically, her pert breasts). "You're not busy, are you?" he questioned, turning to face her slightly. The water rippled with his movements, and he leaned against the edge of the pool, a few steamy drops rolling down his arms and chest. "I'm sure the owner wouldn't mind if you slipped out for a bit, eh? I'll just tell him you were 'giving me a hand,'" Garren chuckled. "It wouldn't be a lie..."
 
“Oh, don't hesitate on my account. You've nothing I've not seen before,” Briana teased, brushing a dark lock of hair behind her delicately pointed ear then turning to pick up the glass. She carefully filled it with red wine, and carried it over to the edge of the pool. Her eyebrow rose at his rumination. “Is that so? Maybe you humans are just lumpen in comparison. Though I will say this... there's a lot of you to appreciate all that ugliness on!” She flashed a playful grin and laughed brightly.

The halfling bent over to set down the glass, her blouse falling open a little to give an even more obvious hint at the small but lush curves beneath. “Why, no, Master Trant, I don't believe I am too busy at this moment.” She raised her head slowly, gazing up at him from beneath long lashes, suggestively lowered brows and tumbling black hair. “What is it exactly that you need a... hand with?”
 
The rogue chuckled lightly at her reply, brows raised, a smirk playing at his lips. "I don't know if I should feel offended or flattered," Garren replied, admiring the halfling's playful nature. But then, they were all playful, weren't they, those halflings? Perhaps they were lacking in size, but they made up for it with charisma. He watched her fondly and leaned back again.

When the cup was offered, he nodded his thanks and took it gently from her much smaller hands. Garren lifted the rim to his lips and sipped, then quirked a brow at the girl, looking amused all over again. With a hand, he reached out and cupped her chin, which was still easy to do from where he was lounging in the waters thanks to her rather limited height.

"There's a few things," he told Briana, and though his actions were intimate, he spoke to the girl like he might causally with a friend. That hand fell, and he played with a string of her blouse instead, threatening to open its front. "You'll have to get in here, though. I can show you once you're wet." The rogue paused, blinked, then cleared his throat, a bit sheepish. "... From the water, I mean."
 
Briana cocked her head as Garren cupped her petite chin, eyes sparkling mischievously. Her lips parted fractionally, he felt her warm breath against his fingertips, and for a moment it seemed as if her tongue might dart out. She glanced down as his touch moved to the cords of her blouse, heart beating like a hummingbird's in her chest. The wench broke into a wide, saucy grin, and suddenly darted into motion.

Her fingers unthreaded her breeches, and in one swift motion she kicked off her boots, slipped out of the breeches and flung them into Garren's face with a giggle. As he pulled the wet canvas out of his eyes, there was a splash as Briana leapt into the pool and vanished below its surface. The rogue could just make her out, a twisting fair shape as agile as an otter under the water. After a few moments she swam up to him and her head and shoulders burst out, dark hair plastered wet and wild around her face, water cascading over open lips and closed eyelids. She now wore only her blouse, hanging to mid-thigh and stuck tight to her tiny, slender form. Garren could see dusky pink nipples pricking against the wet fabric as it brushed against his thighs.

Droplets blew away from her lips as she gasped for air, then her eyes fluttered open and she grinned up at Garren. “Now I'm wet, Master Trant... now I'm soaking wet,” she purred.
 
Well, Briana was certainly showing off the unrivaled playful nature of halflings. He blinked a couple of times when she immediately reached for her breeches, flinching slightly as they stuck to his face, his whole world going dark for just a moment. With a chuckle, he reached up and peeled them off, looking down and around for any signs of the barmaid, and then she resurfaced again.

Amused, Garren leaned back and looked down at her with a grin, listening intently to what she had to say to him. "So you are," he seemed to agree, eying the faint hints of her pert breasts, one hand reaching down to brush her dark hair back again. "Now, about that hand you promised..."

He dipped his own hand beneath the water and gently took hold of one of hers, guiding it to the spot between his legs. Garren placed it flat against what was unmistakably his member, and, even in his half-flaccid state, if was still long enough for two of the halfling's hands to grab hold of, and thick enough to where she couldn't even get her fingers all the way around. He lifted his hips some and repositioned himself so that it rose out of the water, plain as day for Briana to see.

"Can we do something about that?" he asked slyly, placing a hand on her shoulder. It slid down Briana's back and dipped beneath the surface again, moving to grab a hold of the halfling's taut little rear.
 
Briana arched her back as Garren shifted himself, the water lapping up the swells of her breasts until she sank into place, her lithe little body between his thighs. Her gaze fell as he adjusted his manhood, and she gasped as he hand was pressed against it. Light, nimble fingers splayed across the thick rod of hardening flesh, and she squeezed tight, wrapping both hands in as wide a grip as she could manage. “Gods above and below...” she sighed, before glancing back up at the man, her cheeks dimpling in a naughty smile. “There is a lot of you, isn't there?”

The halfling squeezed his cock tight, sliding one hand up and one hand down the rogue's shaft, kneading it from head to base on one side, base to head on the other. She leaned forward herself, her breasts pressing to the underside as she nuzzled her lips against his chest, kissing the hard muscle and flicking her kittenish little tongue against his skin. She thrust her hips back as he raked a hand down her back, pushing her dainty derrière towards his grip invitingly and moaning as he squeezed. “Ohhh...”

Briana began stroking him harder and faster, her tiny hands working up and down expertly, kneading the sensitive skin of his cock around its iron core. She bent down and brushed her lips against the underside of the cockhead, licking eagerly around the crown and lapping the tip like a sweet. Garren was big, but his cock looked almost grotesquely massive next to Briana's doll-like head... though from her lusty grin and eager attentions, she didn't seem to mind at all.
 
Garren chuckled at what she had to say, watching with intent as Briana's tiny little hands took turns moving up and down the smooth skin of his shaft. He met the girl's eyes, and, at her question, Garren gave a modest shrug, raising his hand again from the water to brush her hair back, staring deep in to the girl's eyes. "Depends on who you ask," he reasoned, fingers gently tracing shapes in to her little cheeks. "For a pretty little halfling, maybe. For an orcish girl..." He paused, then smirked. "Still big." Not so modest, then...

As she continued pumping him, the man's cock hardened until it was a tall, stiff rod of meat standing erect between his legs, so large and so tall that it'd take more than four of her little halfling hands to cover the entirety of him, fat head barely able to fit inside of Briana's tiny mouth. When she dipped her head down and pressed the flat of her tongue against him, the rogue groaned lightly, peering down at the girl with one hand still resting atop her head.

"You've done this before, haven't you?" he asked the girl, though Garren sounded half-distracted, and he was, like all men seemed to be when a woman had her lips pressed against their dick. "Have you ever had a human man before? Do you think it would fit?" Before she could answer, he pushed her head down in an encouraging way, prompting Briana to take his thick girth in to her small mouth.
 
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