Fucking for the whole night was not for the weak. An ordinary woman could not possibly do such a thing.
Fortunately, Fern was not an ordinary woman. Those big tits and fat ass weren't for show. She was built to get fucked like a whore and she had the libido to match it. Just not the temperament.
"Mmm…."
The conscience of the sharp woman meant on ordinary days she'd wake up fast and dutifully. In fact, she was the member of the party that was mostly responsible for waking them up. That was not the case here. The opposite, a thrumming soreness pulsed from her very core, radiating out to every muscle in her thighs, her belly, her back, and her pussy. Fern's eyes fluttered open to the gray, pre-dawn light seeping through the single window of the inn's private suite. Her mind was a foggy morass, sticky with sleep and the lingering echoes of sex.
Fern did not swear.
"Fuck…"
But this morning, swearing was the most apt thing to do. She was, to put it bluntly, sore as fuck. Her legs and pussy especially. That long luscious mane of purple hair was a mess. The neat bangs were stuck out in places and the back was bisected into three. And that wasn't mentioning the wet liquid.
An arm was slung possessively over her waist. A heavy, muscular limb tanned a deep olive. The heat of another body pressed against her back, solid and unyielding.
'Schwanz…!'
Her full IQ and memory returned in a hot, shameful flood. The evening. The agreement. The loud, hours-long fucking. Her face burned against the damp pillowcase. Fern was sticky and smelly everywhere. The smell was overwhelming: sex, sweat, and the musk of a man who had thoroughly claimed her seeped into the sheets. Ibtk her own skin it felt like too.
'Oh, gods.'
Fern tried to shift, to ease the dull throb between her legs, but the arm tightened, pulling her back flush against him. She felt his huge, beefy penis and her cheeks reddened. 'T-t-that ridiculous thing…pressing against my ass…!'
A soft, sleeping sigh ghosted over the back of her neck. Her thoughts tumbled between his penis rubbing between her ass cheeks and the man himself. This man, in regards to personality, was not her type. Not at all. Her type was more like…like…like Stark.
Speaking that name into existence, her womb throbbed. There was still cum stuffed inside and a soft moan slipped out.
'D-did he overhear? He had to come back, no?' Glancing out the window was necessary, she could feel that it was the morning. 'What does Stark think?'
If he did hear even a snippet, then why…why was she rubbing her thighs together? Why didn't she feel guilty? Why wasn't she flinging this bastard Schwanz off of her!?
'Stark. I should be thinking of Stark. I should be feeling… guilt.' And she did. A sharp, needle-like pang of it. However, that also begged that same question: did he know? She couldn't remember. She recalled seeing his red hair at some point but…were her memories deceiving her? The thought of his earnest, red-haired concern twisted something sick inside her.
"Mm…Fern…"
Schwanz murmured into her ear and emotion swelled inside her. Deep, deep inside, she loved how fun and exhilarating sex was with Schwanz, but…but it couldn't go on. That was the deal. It was JUST for tonight. Right?
The old Fern returned and she pushed his arm off her. Her feet planted down on the floor as she sat on the edge of the bed. Her eyes were closed as she collected herself.
'That was the deal. Just…we were just…' What was the reason again? Fuck, fuck. Fern pretended she remembered. 'A dirty excuse for him to fuck me. That arrogant, smug bastard…'
Her hand crept down and touched her lower abdomen. A new, cold fear spiked through the warmth of his debauchery seed. A (Fern's womb) plus B (Schwanz's virile cum) equaled a child. A child. The journey with Frieren was long, dangerous. The very idea was impossible. A disaster. She couldn't possibly afford to raise a child when danger waited around every corner.
A soft snore, entirely undignified, rasped from across the room. Opening her eyes, Fern's head craned around the room. There, slumped in a high-backed chair by the cold fireplace, was Frieren. Her master's white hair was a mess, her head lolled at an angle that looked positively vertebral. An ancient, leather-bound grimoire lay open on her lap, one slender finger still resting on a line of text. She was still in her day clothes, her cape bundled around her like a blanket.
"Master…?"
Frieren replied, "Zzzzz…!"
'What in the…? Why is she here? She wasn't… we weren't…' A baffled, almost hysterical noise bubbled in Fern's throat. Had her elven master just… come in to read? To sleep in a chair while her apprentice was loudly, vigorously fucked a few feet away?
A large hand splayed over her belly, fingers digging possessively into her soft, doughy flesh. "Mmm. Thinking already?" Schwanz's voice was a sleep-roughened murmur against the shell of her ear. "A woman's mind is never still, is it?"
He was behind her. That hung, fat demon cock belonging to the ridiculously arrogant lord that was hugging her from behind. Fern irritably called out his name, "Mr. Schwanz…"
"What?"
Alas, her irritation faded when his hands crept up to squeeze her tits and his other hand wiped at her hair, cleaning it. Bastard was trying to be smart about it. "Your hand is cold," Fern said, the words came out hoarse. No doubt from how much noise she made last night. The whole town must've heard those pathetic wails she made on such a quiet night. The thought made her cheeks flush redder.
"It'll warm up." He nuzzled her neck, his short goatee scratching her. The hand on the stomach came up to cup her breast, his thumb circling her nipple until it peaked instantly under his touch. A traitorous jolt of fresh desire shot straight to her already tender core. "Mmm, these are even more magnificent in the morning light. Like ripe peaches."
Bastard.
Squeeze!
"God, your tits are sooo nice!"
'Bastard perv.'
Two fingers played and flicked at her nipples. Fern suppressed herself and just let him grope her as he pleased. Kneading her tender flesh roughly. Fingers disappearing into them as he manhandled ther mounds. Fern let out a soft squeal as she let him.
"Mr. Schwanz, are you really so unable to hold back?"
"Yep!"
Perverted, stupid, big dick bastard….!
"Aren't your balls sore by now?"
"I mean, It's a good sore," he corrected. He squeezed her breast, not ungently like before. His grip loosened, like he was just playing with them now. Keeping his hands busy as he talked. "And I bet it's the same for you. It's the sore of a body well-used and well-pleasured. You screamed yourself hoarse, my plump little slut."
Fern stiffened. "D-don't call me that."
"What? Slut?" Schwanz chuckled. "It's just talk, Fern. Sex talk. You liked it when my cock was buried to the hilt and I was whispering how good my little slut felt. Don't pretend you weren't calling me a bastard pervert either. Don't pretend you didn't enjoy it."
'B-bastard! Big dick, stupidly virile, stupidly arrogant, insulting bastard!!'
Yet…
Fern flushed, because he was right. In the throes of it, the vulgarity had felt good. It sealed her descent into loving sex. For the sake of her dignity, Fern pushed his hands off her breast and wriggled to face him, wincing at the protest from her muscles. His handsome face was relaxed in sleepiness, his black hair mussed, his deep green eyes glinting with familiar, arrogant warmth.
Oh, and his dick. It was probably right there in his lap. Don't look down. Don't look down—
Fern looked.
Dammit.
'B-b-b-bastard…'
Seeing it again, she actually gasped a little. It was seriously way too big. Like a monster that had a life of its own by the way it rose and fell. Like it was breathing. It made Stark's thing look tiny in comparison (and this was while Schwanz was soft, she noted). And those balls that pooled too…she could see them underneath. A sack with huge lumps that were his grapefruit-sized testicles.
Her eyes darted back up faster than Schwanz could notice. His flicked to meet hers.
"I need to know—-is there a spell? To stop a baby?" Blunt and to the point. The old Fern was back.
Schwanz blinked, the playfulness receding for a moment. "A what?"
"A spell. A charm. A potion. Anything," Fern repeated, glancing toward the still-snoring Frieren. "You filled me… more than once. I'm not…ready."
A slow, wicked grin spread across his face. "You don't want my child? Fern, you'd make a splendid mother. Just imagine the milk you'd make with these melons."
"W-w-what?" First second, she blushed. At the second second, as though the old Fern snapped back into place, her eyes flattened and she went, "Y-you're being ridiculous. What are you talking about?"
His hand grabbed her breast, making her freeze up. "I'd drink from you every morning."
"Y-you…"
She smacked his hand aside. He cackled and his other hand came to grope her left tit. Bastard…!
"Plus, look at those hips!" That hand escaped her smack by going down to her hips and squeezing. "It'd be a waste!"
"As if! Hips have more function than for rearing babies!"
"Such as?"
"...shut up."
"Huh? What was that?"
Fern huffed. "You have the opinion of a man from the dark ages. Are you that deft?"
Schwanz's groping hand left and his index finger tapped at her nipple. "Meaning…?"
"You have no appreciation for women."
"Me? No way! The opposite, I appreciate women and their bodies! And personalities! And their ability to give birth! All of it is necessary for society to function! Really, it's a miracle! Sex is so good because we can breed women!"
"Apologies, Mr. Schwanz, but I would rather not have a child with a pervert," Fern snapped, even though the heat in her cheeks betrayed her. The image his words conjured was absurdly, shamefully compelling.
"A pervert who made you cum so hard you saw stars?" he teased, leaning and pointedly glancing at her pouting lower lip. "A pervert who had you sobbing his name into the pillow?"
"A pervert who took advantage of a deal for a book!" she retorted, smacking his shoulder. It was like hitting solid oak. He was stronger than he looked. No duh, he fucked with the stamina of ten men.
His grin was unfaltering. "Oh, I'm taking advantage, am I? Your hips were grinding back on me like you were trying to milk me dry. That's not advantage, my slutty Fern. That's mutual greed." He let his hand rest low on her belly again. "But to answer your question… yes. I know a little trick."
Fern blinked and her brows narrowed. "You do?"
"Don't underestimate me. It's a minor charm. A transmutation spell to turn a fertilised egg into a normal egg. It ensures no… lasting consequences." His expression turned smug. "A necessity, really, for a man of my appetites and station. An heir must be planned, not a happy accident with a gorgeous, fuck-hungry mage."
Fern pouted at the unnecessary jab at her.
He closed his eyes and a tingle crept up her belly. There was no questioning it, this was mana. This was the beginning of a spell. The tingling on her skin intensified, coalescing into a golden glow formed at the tips of his fingers. It spread a comforting warmth through her lower abdomen. Looking down, Fern saw a magic circle on her womb. It was quite complex.
"Poof!"
A manual sound Schwanz made with his mouth, the spell activated and took effect. The glow faded. The mana inside only lasted two or three seconds before it faded away. Fern felt every inch and second of it.
"There," Schwanz said, opening his eyes. "No more baby. Happy?"
She…she believed him. She felt something, alright. It definitely did something.
"You…can use magic?" Fern asked. Was he suppressing his mana like she did? Like her master had taught her to do? Professional curiosity momentarily returned. His touch on her belly was warm now, his fingers tracing idle circles for fun.
"Impressed?"
Fern was equally relieved and impressed, so yes. "...hmph." But she refused to admit it. "I've never heard of a transmutation spell that safely stops fertilization. How did you learn it?"
After all, usually, she could tell the ordinary from the mages. Fern took a deeper look into Schwanz. She could sense the faintest pools of mana swelling in him. Nothing she would normally notice, but there was something there she had overlooked earlier when she had first met him. But he had somehow learned a spell that could cure pregnancy? It was definitely curious.
"Ha, a bit of study and lust, of course! I wanted to have as much sex as possible without baring an heir."
Study and lust? That was it?
Fern purses her lips, unsatisfied with his answer. "You should put your talent to better use. Making an original magic circle is no easy feat."
"I appreciate the praise but I know all the magic I need to know."
He was confident. So confident that a soul-deep relief washed over her. The tension she hadn't fully acknowledged drained away, leaving her feeling almost boneless. "Yes, well…thank you." The gratitude was genuine, and it annoyed her. She didn't want to be grateful to him. "It's one less thing to worry about, if it works like you say."
"You really should learn to trust me. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's things that get in the way of pleasure. The joys of fucking another person, there's nothing like it! And a baby just gets in the way of it!"
"...is that right?"
"It is!" Schwanz lifted her chin with a finger, smirking. "Indulging in lust and carnal desires…seeing a man, looking at your wedding ring, and deciding to fuck still! That is real love! That is what it means to live! To live means love to the fullest extent! It's fun! Why risk an heir that will ruin all that? An heir…" He chuckled. "You need a good woman for that!"
His cock was stirring. Fern couldn't help but notice, even as he maintained eye contact and continued rambling.
"To limit yourself to one partner, it's such a waste! I really don't get why commoners do it! Just fuck! Have fun! Have fun with as many partners as possible!"
Expression empty with confusion, Fern tilted her head and asked, "As many as possible? Unfortunately, I don't think most people can afford to unless they know your un-fertilization spell."
Schwanz choked literally on his own words a moment, but then pushed through confidently anyways.
"Yes! Well…even so! Knowing the taste of just one cock or pussy is such a waste! Our genders were meant to fuck and please as much as possible! Why else were men given balls? Why were women given the capacity to orgasm multiple times? For just one load? For a child? Please. There's more to love than just one person! At least, for me that is."
More to it than just one partner…?
"A woman whose boyfriend has a small dick that doesn't satisfy should be allowed to break-up and explore! To have fun!"
His finger lifted her higher and he leaned in. Fern…Fern couldn't resist. Not his hunger sex, not his cock, Schwanz was irresistible for her body and mind. Him and his passion and his ability in bed, it was a crossroad of everything the stoic woman needed.
"You agree, don't you? You're not the kind of woman that's satisfied by smaller men! Your ass would be too much for them!"
'W-what are you talking about?' An image of Stark appeared. 'That kind of thing…Stark is…he's my type. Not this arrogant bastard.'
Looking him in the eye though, her cunt throbbed and there was just no fucking denying it. Sex with Schwanz was better than it was with Stark. Mind-bogglingly better, to the point it didn't feel worth it to do with the poor redhead. Maybe, just maybe…
'But…maybe Schwanz is right. Maybe…people really do need multiple partners.'
Multiple partners meaning she could find room for Stark…maybe.
The young lord dipped closer. His nose brushed hers. "No one has ever able to give an answer—what is better than pleasure? Than the magic of two bodies?" His voice dropped to a low, intimate rumble. "Last night was a spell, Fern. Remember how you came?"
"I…"
"Remember how your cunt squeezed down on me? Your magic circles have yet to replicate pleasure like that. Sex, I believe, is real magic. No, the greatest magic."
A ramble? Or a speech? Lord Schwanz was charismatic and a stud with no equal. Everything he said was the epitome of seduction, weaving around her post-coital vulnerability. He leaned in, his breath warm on her lips. "Can you explain it, Fern? I doubt you can. Why limit yourself to one partner, one experience? Life is a feast. Stark is your… what? Your careful boy? Let him be that. His gentle, loving touches. And let me be this." His voice barely above a whisper, hand sliding from her belly to her hip, gripping firmly. "The fire. The hunger. The fuck that makes you forget your own name. Indulge. There's room for both kinds of magic in a man and woman's life."
'Multiple partners… room for Stark…'
Blasphemous.
Thrilling.
Terrifying.
Fern tried to muster her resistance, to summon the image of Stark's hurt face, but all she could see was Schwanz's dark, hungry eyes. Her pussy betrayed her utterly. The memories of last night were overwhelming.
"You…talk too much," she whispered, but there was no force behind it.
"I do," he agreed, his lips a hair's breadth from hers. "So let me show you instead."
He closed the distance.
A kiss? Bitch please, it was a conquest. His mouth crashed onto hers, not with finesse but with raw, primal hunger. His tongue pushed past her lips immediately, sweeping into her mouth, claiming here's for himself entirely.
"Schlrrpp!!"
Fern's violet eyes flew wide for a second before fluttering shut, a weak moan catching in her throat. Her earlier resistance melted like wax under a flame. He devoured her. His tongue mapped her mouth. His slimy muscle getting into every nook and cranny. Running over her teeth, gums, her own tongue, tangling with hers in a disgusting dance and exchange of fluids. Sucking on her tongue as if it were a tasty treat with greedy pulls, tugging hard, like he was going to rip it out.
"Glughh! Mmmph!"
She kissed him back, her own hunger rising to meet his. It was sloppy, wet, and profoundly nasty. She'd never been kissed like this—like she was a meal to be consumed. Her hands came up, one tangling in his hair, the other clutching at the powerful muscle of his shoulder. She pulled him closer, deepening the kiss herself, jaw straining to take his thick tongue in. Meeting his aggression with a desperate passion of her own.
It was an image straight out of those lewd newspaper cartoons she chastised Stark for glancing at. Probably lewder. Schwanz devoured her face as Fern pulled him deeper. She alternated between sucking his plump top and bottom lips. Hot, steaming, sticky tongues twirling in the open air. Swapping filthy spit and drinking him down.
Their lips smacked together wetly. Saliva pooled, escaping the corners of their joined mouths. He sucked her lower lip between his teeth, nibbling it before plunging back in and letting it snap back into place.
"Schlk! Mlem~!!"
Was that Fern? Was that Schwanz? Impossible to say who was being more lewd and animalistic. Perhaps it was one or the other. Perhaps. Like it mattered.
'I-I never knew—I never knew kissing could be so good!!'
Tongues swirled. Lips mashed. Teeth gnawed. Her eyes lost their stoicism in their entirety. Replaced with a teary eyed haze of pure sexual bliss.
"Schlrrpp! Glughh!!" Fern was losing, being utterly dominated by Schwanz and his more experienced lips. He cupped her cheeks and just fucking took over. "Mmmph, schlk!! Mmllemmm!"
They swapped gross saliva, lips smacking. Fern moaned loudly. It was a wet, nasty, pathetic excuse for a make out session. More like an alpha predator that knew every single weakness of its prey, Schwanz plowed through her mouth, fucking it with his dirty tongue.
Her eyes rolled back as she wrapped her lips around his slime coated tongue. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked loudly and lewdly. Bobbing her head at his pace as he held her in place. Giving his sloppy tongue an equally sloppy blowjob.
"Mmpph!! Phhhhtttkk!!" Greedy, obscenely gross kissing. That was what it was from both sides. Fern wasn't a bystander getting dommed anymore, she willed this. She willed this stud's domination and lust for her. She kissed back and that caused a feed-back loop of messy saliva and tonguing. Her cheeks narrowed. So did his.
They just wanted to fuck each other. But, like a true master, Schwanz was winning. That was the difference. He had mastered the art of kissing. He set the pace. He knew when to pull away and break up his lip movement. He knew how to get Fern to chase his lips. And right when she thought she found a rut hum, he increased his pace and kissed her with ravenous fervor anew.
His hand moved from her face to between her legs, his fingers finding her cunt slick from just the kiss alone. He pushed two fingers inside her easily, curling them, and she cried out into his mouth.
'Nonononon—!
Pathetically, easily, an orgasm took her by surprise. Yep, from making out with this bastard, a cresting wave caused her to shudder and arch. It was from his kiss, his fingers, the overwhelming, all-consuming filth of it. Her walls clenched around his digits, and she shuddered violently against him, breaking the kiss with a gasp. There was so much fucking saliva that drooled out. Multiple strings of saliva connecting their lips like a bridge. It did not break either.
"F-fuck," Fern panted, her vision swimming. Going in and out of focus as she tries to catch her fucking breath.
"See?" Schwanz cackled, his own breath coming hard. He brought his glistening fingers to her mouth and like a trained whore, she sucked her juices off them with a slurp. The bubbling saliva still wasn't breaking either. The opposite, the heaps of semi-transparent liquid multiplied as Fern sloppily sucked.
Was it hilarious to see such a prideful woman be brought down to this level? Sucking a man's fingers? No, not at all. This was what Schwanz was talking. This was simply nature taking its hold in her. This was simply Fern in her raw, natural form.
"Mmmpph~!"
He pulled his fingers back, and her tongue, like a slut in heat, chased after it like she did his lips moments before. "Greedy slut," Schwanz commented as he led her lips to his. It was like playing fetch. He captured her mouth again, sharing the taste with her.
"Hock pthu~!"
He spat in her mouth to make her simmer down. She didn't. She wanted to swallow his saliva. Schwanz tugged on the back of her head for better control and for a better angle. "Pthhuu!" He spat down her throat again. Fern couldn't swallow it all. Thick globs leaked out, making things even messier on their chins.
Sharing her juices, sucking up his saliva, it was a fucking mess of a chaos. Their tongues lewdly pressed flat against each other as saliva dripped and they drank each other down.
"Hock pthu!"
That was Fern. Yes, she wanted him to swallow her essence and he did. He did so happily. Truly a master of his deprived craft. The old Fern would have been disgusted. The Fern of today whimpered and pressed her giant tits against his chest. The kiss continued for a long, wild minute.
Their tongues kept clashing. Schwanz kept having to control her to keep the edge. The purple-haired lady was not some push-over. Oh yes, there was no denying it anymore; Fern was perhaps the most talented he had met when it came to sex. She learned and reciprocated faster and better than nearly every chick he had fucked. Certainly, compared to the women of his town, Fern reigned supreme.
They broke apart again, both panting, lips swollen and glistening, chins wet. Dozens of heavy ropes of spit dripped from her chin onto her chest. He leaned in and licked it up, his tongue flat and warm against her collarbone. He didn't want to waste a drop.
"Do you… do you really intend to travel with us?" Fern asked, her voice a breathless wreck.
"I said I would. I need to get to a certain ball, you see," he murmured, his tongue going up her neck and then licking up the corners of her lips. As he did that, his fingers traced her slick folds again, making her jump. "I'll share all the details when we're done fucking again. Is there going to be an issue with…?" His eyes flicked toward the snoring elf in the chair behind them.
Fern didn't even glance at Frieren's oblivious, peacefully slumbering form. Those dim, sex-addicted eyes wanted Schwanz. "No. She won't wake up." Her boobs pressed flat against his chest and his lips were touching hers. "Not for awhile at least."
Schwanz's grin was feral. "You sure?"
Thwap!
His cock rocketed into an erection, fighting through the space between them till it was poking out between their stomachs. Fern didn't move an inch. Looking down, she licked her lips and eye-fucked the humongous cockhead, huffing and puffing.
That fat, ten inch monstrosity of a cock…so much bigger than Stark's…so much bigger than any penis she had seen… Not that she had seen many, but still!
She smiled. In the back of her mind, she recalled seeing Stark's small flaccid penis for the first time. She seriously couldn't believe they were of the same gender. This demon cock and Stark's cute little acorn…
"Heh."
Honestly? Fern did not care if her master woke up. She wanted that cock—now.
"I'm absolutely sure, Mr. Schwanz."
And her absolute confidence sold Schwanz into starting their session all over again.
***
The old timber walls of the Auenbach inn were thin. They were not paper-thin, but they were thin enough for Stark to hear every groan of the bed frame, every muffled cry, every vulgar, pleading word. Only slightly muffled by the walls between them.
"Y-your dick! Your fucking thing! S-s-so deep! So, unhhh, so deeeeep!!"
"Just say cock, Fern! By the gods!"
"YOUR COCK IS FUCKING ME SO DEEEP~!!"
Poor Stark. Technically, he probably wasn't the only individual suffering from the bed-creaking sex. There was the owner and a few neighbours.
'Doesn't make this any better,' Stark thought. He was on his back on the narrow cot in the small, rented room. His axe leaned on the side-table. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides. He stared at the water-stained ceiling, his mind replaying the image of Fern's pouting face from yesterday, the hurt in her violet eyes when he'd stupidly called her plumper. He'd meant it as an observation, not a criticism. He loved her curves. But the word had landed wrong.
He'd wanted to apologize. He'd returned from the monster hunt late, his clothes smelling of sap and damp earth, his heart heavy with regret.
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!
And then saw Fern getting her guts rearranged by the biggest penis he had ever seen. Easily double his size and so fucking good that Fern passed out from its use. And now…and now…
"I'M CUMMING AGAIIIIN~!!"
Now, freshly awake, she got right back into the swing of things. A heavy, rhythmic impact shuddered through the shared walls. The old timber frame of the Auenbach inn groaned in protest. Dust sifted down from the ceiling beams.
THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
Wet, fleshy counter-rhythm pierced right into his ear drums. A steady cadence of a fat ass and a hefty nutsack. He remembered Fern's ass equally as much as he remembered that pompous lord's huge balls.
Fuck. Stark inhaled and stared into the darkness.
"Man…"
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
Was he a perv for listening so intently? For not even bothering to cover up his ears? For actually being eager to listen? Just a little?
The pace quickened and he could tell. It was a souring feeling since it wasn't him that was fucking her faster, it was some other guy they had met literally a day ago. That part hurt his male pride the most. One day with this son of a lord and Fern was getting fucked doggy-style.
Was it because of his big dick? His money? His confidence? Stark didn't know how to feel. He, surprisingly, didn't find hate in his heart. It was strange. So strange. He just wanted to listen.
The headboard slammed against the shared wall with such force that Stark's own small bed trembled in sympathy. A ceramic cup on his nightstand rattled. His axe shook. Gods. He could feel it through the floorboards.
And with every thrust came the repeatedly cute moan of Fern's. The girl he was in-love with. Not just moans, oh no, the big dick plunging into her again and again led to high, choked gasps too. The son of the town's lord was delivering pussy-gushing backshots.
Soon, the moan was muffled as if by a pillow or a mouth, but still distinctly Fern's. It was a sound he'd heard only once before, in a desperate, fumbling moment of passion that had left them both flushed and apologetic. It had been soft and shy and…
"OH! OH, FUCK!"
…nothing like this.
"YOUR! BIG! F-F-FUCKING! DIIICK! K-KEEP DRILLING IT INTO ME—MMPPPH~!!"
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
"MR. SCHWANZZZ~!! H-H-HOLD ON! MY ARMS! L-L-LET ME ADJUST!!"
Stark flinched. 'Is he going to let her adjust?' His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat of dread and something else, something dark and shameful that coiled hot in his dick.
There was a pause. There was a shifting of the knees, Stark suspected. Then—
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
"Is that better!?"
He talked to her far too casually for just meeting her. Dude didn't even realize Fern could kill him in a fraction of a second.
"T-THANK YOU! GODS THANK YOUU~!!"
Yet, this was Fern's response. She was completely and totally submissive. She was his personal whore. Cue the machine-like fucking. That was what this was. But these were no machines, this was a big dick fucking a horny woman.
"RIGHT THERE! YES! DON'T YOU DARE STOP!" Fern's voice was a sob, a command, a plea all at once. "HARDER! POUND MY FAT ASS HARDER, YOU FUCKIN BASTARD!"
Her fat ass. So crude and descriptive from her usually prim mouth and it sent a jolt through Stark. His dick once reacted traitorously. He bit down on his lower lip until he tasted copper.
'Stark, come on, come on…relax…j-just…just rest up. The fight still took a lot out of you.'
Oh yes it did, but the same could be said for Fern. Clearly, she sounded exhausted and battered and was still going. But then there was another long pause. A moment where the big dick was balls-deep and the wielder of the big dick was about to speak.
A deep, masculine grunt echoed, a rough animal sound of effort and pleasure. Schwanz. "You like that, you hungry bitch? You like this big cock stretching that tight little hole?"
"YES! YES, I LIKE IT! I LOVE IT! FUCK, IT'S SO DEEP—SHIIIT!"
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
"Damn! You really are a slut, haha! Slamming back all on your own! Just like that! Fuck yeah!"
"S-s-s-shut up! SHUT UP~!! JUST USE THAT FAT COCK OF YOURS!!!"
A chill went down Stark's spine. Fern…Fern started slamming back of her own volition?
"Haha! I won't even use my hands then! I'll let you fuck yourself all on your own! Let's see what ya got!"
The dude was cocky and he was fucking backing it up. Stark could hear him slap her ass cheek and then release it from his grip. And yet, the clapping did not stop. Fern kept the momentum of backshots going.
Fern was exhausted and tired and still fucking him. While he…
While Stark was just listening like some pathetic voyeur.
"Ugh…" Stark's hand moved of its own volition. It slid under the rough blanket, past the waistband of his trousers. He found himself already hard, achingly so. His fingers wrapped around his own length.
If the exhausted Fern could do something, then maybe…maybe he should too.
He jerked himself, listening to every little moan. Matching his strokes to Fern's moans. A strangled sound escaped his throat—half-groan, half-whimper.
'She's… she's with him. She's…'
But Stark's hand began to move, a slow, guilty stroke in time with the brutal rhythm from next door.
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
"I WANT YOU TO BREAK ME!" Fern screamed back, her voice cracking. "I WANT YOU TO FUCK ME SO HARD I FORGET MY OWN NAME! USE ME! USE ME UNTIL I'M YOURS!"
He'd apologize for calling her plump. And here she was, begging to be used, begging for a breaking.
"Fuck…" Stark cursed. "This is just…fuck…"
His strokes grew faster. It was a pathetic mimicry of the wet, slapping symphony next door. He imagined it was him. He imagined it was his name Fern was shrieking. But the fantasy was thin, transparent. It couldn't mask the reality.
"Fine!" Schwanz grunted. "I'll fucking snap you in two! You want to get fucked that hard, here it is you fucking cunt!"
The hands returned. The real fucking returned. He could hear the powerful, athletic thrusts and the sheer force of them that made their rooms shake once again. The way Fern's cries were not gentle sighs but ragged, screaming demands for more. She was like a wounded animal on its last legs.
His hand stilled for a moment, shame burning his face. He was strong. He was a warrior. He'd killed a monster just hours ago. But in this arena, in this dark room listening to the woman he cared for being conquered, he felt small.
…he also felt a little excited.
"Fern, you really wanna be this loud!?" Slam, slam, slam! Schwanz gave another smack to her jiggling asscheeks. "The whole town's gonna hear you!?"
Stark froze up; then, his dick spewing out pre-cum, he jerked off harder and faster.
"WHO GIVES A SHIT?!!" Fern wailed, but there was no real anger in it. It was a token protest, swallowed by a wave of pleasure as her next words became a shattered mess. "JUST—AH! AH! GODS!—JUST FUCK ME! FILL ME UP! I'M SO CLOSE! I CAN FEEL IT, MR. SCHWANZ~!!!"
Plaster dust rained down on Stark's blanket. The bedposts of his own cot squeaked in sympathy. Stark was getting closer, his cheeks reddening. He tried to suppress his grunts so they wouldn't hear him in turn.
Schwanz laughed. "Fuuuck! Here it is! Here's the fat load, you've been begging for, bitch!"
The moan that followed was inhuman. A glorious shriek from Fern, a sound of total, absolute surrender, of a pleasure so intense it bordered on agony. It was followed by a triumphant bellow from Schwanz.
CLAP-!
A final, monumental impact shook the room. Then a new sound, a wet squelching that was slower and deeper. The sound of a cock, buried to the root, pumping jet after jet of cum into a welcoming, clenching cunt.
Squelch! Glurp! Spurt, spuuurt, spuurt! Squelch!
Ropes upon ropes of cum were filling her up and leaking.
Stark's eyes squeezed shut. He could hear it. He could picture it with brutal, unwanted clarity. Schwanz, his balls shuddering and unloading deep inside Fern.
Filling Fern.
Claiming Fern's womb.
His own arcs of cum shot out too. He grunted and squeezed his cock in a tight grip to drag out everything his nuts had.
The same could be said for Schwanz, but in his case, it was Fern's tight pussy doing the dragging. Soon, about the same time Stark was done, squelching sounds subsided. For a long moment, Stark lay there, spent and empty, the shame a cold stone in his softening dick. He listened to their breathing slow as well.
He heard a wet, sliding sound. A soft, satisfied sigh from Fern. A chuckle from Schwanz.
"Y-you…" Fern gulped, her voice wrecked, hoarse, but brimming with a sated wonder Stark had never heard. "You… you wrecked me."
"Mmm," Schwanz hummed, smug and content. "Come on, you know this is just the beginning, my greedy slut~!"
'Greedy slut? He was saying such things to her?'
Stark waited for her to protest, to scold him for his language. She didn't.
Instead, she made a small, needy sound. "It's… it's still so deep. Your cum is sooo thick."
"Good," Schwanz said, his voice a dark purr. "That's where it belongs."
Stark felt sick. He felt aroused all over again. The conflicting emotions churned in him, a nauseating whirlpool. Jealousy, hot and sharp. Envy, cold and deep. A bitter, frustrated anger—at Schwanz, at Fern, but mostly at himself. 'I should have asked. I should have been… more. I should have taken…'
But he hadn't. He was Stark, careful and gentle. And the man in the next room was a stud, a sex god who could make Fern scream and beg and take his cum without a second thought.
The sounds of movement started again. A shift of weight on the mattress. A soft, wet kiss, in all probability. Stark's dick twitched again.
The lapping stopped. The bed creaked.
"Bend over. Against the window again. I want to see that perfect ass bounce while I fuck you through it."
"Y-yes, Mr. Schwanz," Fern replied, her obedience immediate.
'Again?' Stark heard the shuffle of bodies, the groan of the mattress. Then a new sound. The soft shush of a curtain being drawn aside.
He knew what was happening. He knew a curvy, feminine silhouette was pressed against the windowpane of the suite next door. He closed his eyes and imagined her big breasts flattened against the glass, and behind her, the big fat cock poised at her cunt.
SMACK!
A sharp, crisp sound of a hand on bare flesh. Fern yelped.
"Such a fat, perfect ass," Schwanz growled, his voice clearer now, as if he were speaking right against the glass. "Begging for more punishment."
"F-fuck me," Fern begged, her voice trembling. "Please. From behind. I need it."
"Heh. Of course, Fern."
Of course? Didn't this guy go soft, Stark questioned.
"Ohhhh! Ngggghh! Mgmgmppppph! S-s-shooo deeep!"
Apparently not.
A new, wetter rhythm began. Slap-squelch! Slap-squelch! Cock plunging into a well-used, welcoming pussy. Each impact made her shudder. Stark just fucking knew it. The beautiful, jiggling curve of her ass-cheek in profile wobbled with every powerful thrust.
"YES! YES!" Fern screamed. Fuck, was the window slightly open too. He could really hear her now…! "HARDER! FUCK ME HARDER! YESS! MAKE ME YOURS!"
SMACK!
Another spank, ringing out.
"Who do you belong to?" Schwanz grunted, his voice strained with the effort of his pounding.
"YOU! I BELONG TO YOU AND YOUR COCK! NOBODY ELSE! JUST FUCK ME!"
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
But…but for how fucking long? Stark started jerking off again, underestimating his own virility, and got hard fast. Schlick, schliiick, schliick! Pre-cum already acted as lubricant. As good as it felt, fuck, Schwanz was definitely having more fun with Fern's cunt.
"I'M CUMMING! I'M CUMMING AGAIN GUHH! DON'T STOP! DON'T YOU DARE STOP! FUUUUU~!"
Stark would never forget it. The soft, wet drip of fluids hitting the floorboards. The loud claps of her ass cheeks. The exclamations of her orgasms.
'I really, really should have asked to tag along.'
But he didn't. So all he could do was enjoy the here and the now. What was currently in front of him.
Ten minutes later—spurt, spurt, spuuurt! Stark came. So did Schwanz. One man releasing arcs up on his mattress, the other man creampieing a busty, plump mage.
***
EXTRA CONTENT FOR CHAPTER 2 ON PATREON (: