Everyone noticed Derran when he entered the whorehouse. He was used to this; to them staring and whispering amongst themselves; to the standard reactions of awe, amusement or fear. People noticed him wherever he went. It was hard, he knew, not to notice someone who was over eight feet tall.
His mother had been a Mountain Giant, that declining race of people who were still cast as the monsters in children's stories, even in these so-called enlightened times. She had been eleven feet tall, a classic Giantess with a terrible temper and a monstrous appetite for all types of carnal pleasure. His father had been human, by all accounts a mild-mannered man and not even particularly tall at five feet ten inches. It was far from unheard of for Giants to take human lovers, of course, but it was rare for those unions to produce offspring.
He had earned a great deal of money this harvest, even by his standards. It was easy for him to do so; thanks to his ancestry he had the strength of at least three regular men. Since he had come down out of the mountains as a young lad of eighteen -- ten years ago now by his reckoning -- he had done every type of heavy work on the various farms in this part of the valley, including pulling the plough for Farmer Jared once when his horse had been taken ill. Those who knew him well knew that he was honest, hard-working and that, unlike many human farmhands, he did not take liberties with the daughters of the households he worked for.
Not that he didn't have urges, of course. That was why he was here. He had never paid for it before but he was becoming desperate. On the few occasions he had ever managed to persuade a woman to get over her fear of being crushed by his enormous body, or of becoming pregnant with a part-Giant baby, or her assumption that his tool would be too much to handle ("We should all have such problems," Jared had said drily when he'd told him that one), the experience had been somewhat marred by the ill-conceived glint of fear in her eyes and the tension it produced in her body. Had he been a true Giant, he often thought dejectedly, that would only have added to his pleasure. But he was tired of women being afraid of him and he thought that maybe, a whore might not have the same qualms.
The madam of the establishment, a plump little redhead who he guessed to be around forty, silenced the giggles of the youngest whores with a stern admonishment of "Girls -- be nice to our guest." She glided towards him, smiling winsomely.
"A good evening to you, sir," she said warmly. "I am Madam Elise, and welcome to my home. Please come and sit by the fire and warm your bones on this cold night." She ushered him towards one of the large overstuffed chairs near the hearth, pretending not to notice as he flinched away from the beams in the ceiling on route. "A glass of wine to relax you, perhaps? A bite to eat, and get to know some of my girls?"
"Thank you," said Derran quietly. There were no other men in the saloon, but he could hear distant moans of pleasure and rhythmic bumping noises that suggested some rooms were currently occupied. When the wine came he gulped it nervously, and made a face; it was terribly strong and sweet, a cheap brew that clung to his palate. Nonetheless he drained the glass, and looked around at the girls.
Most of them were very young, not more than nineteen or twenty, with slim girlish figures clad in brightly-coloured, tight-fitting dresses with daring slits in the skirts that showed their stockings and impossibly lacy garters. A couple of them had their tits out, their little pink nipples thrust skywards by the necklines of their dresses. One of them, a blonde with pouting red-painted lips, settled herself on his lap and gave him a knowing smile far older than her years.
"My, my," she said coquettishly. "You're a lot of man, aren't you? Girls," she said over her shoulder, "I think we could fit at least three more of us on this gent's lap."
"Only because our arses aren't the size of yours, Katrice," said one of them teasingly, prompting a gale of laughter from the assembled company. Derran smiled; he had never witnessed this sort of banter amongst women and it was very refreshing, far more so than the dreadful brew he'd been served. The blonde girl stuck out her tongue. "You watch your cheek, Mariel," she said.
Mariel smiled wickedly. "Three more, you say?" she asked. "Chalisa, Sheri -- come on."
Before he knew what was happening, all three of them had joined Katrice on his lap, two to each leg. Much laughter ensued, as if this was the most hilarious thing they had ever done. The warmth of their bottoms radiated through his clothing and he was suddenly aware of just how much female flesh was on display and within easy reach; however, he was unsure of the protocol and did not want to be too forward for fear of being ejected from the place. One of them, the one called Sheri, whispered in his ear, "These tits were made for sucking, sweetheart."
Emboldened by alcohol and lust he bent his head and ran his tongue lightly over the top of her breast before giving in to the urge to engulf her nipple with his mouth. The girls cheered, and he suckled harder as his hand found another breast, possibly Mariel's. He was becoming painfully erect already. He hoped it wouldn't be too long before he would be permitted to take one of them off and fuck her. Or maybe even two of them...was that allowed? It would probably be expensive if so.
Just then a man appeared, accompanied by a tall, curvy dark-haired lady who looked somewhat older than the girls sitting on him. He looked at Derran and grinned. "You lucky dog," he remarked. "My castle for such legs as yours."
"Which of your many castles would that be, Leon?" teased Chalisa. But Derran barely registered the laughter this time. His attention was fixed on the woman with Leon.
In spite of her dark hair she had creamy-pale skin, apart from a slight flush to her cheeks presumably from exertion, and large eyes of such a deep green that he was reminded of fir trees and holly. She wore a gown much like the other girls, except that it was made of a dark red material and did not have any trimmings. He guessed her to be about thirty, maybe thirty-five, and she was very tall for a woman -- at least six feet at a guess. Her eyes met his and he caught a flash of fire as she looked him over. She smiled -- not the big, come-hither smile of the other whores, but a small knowing smile that hinted of more practised pleasures than her brash young colleagues could hope to bestow.
Derran smiled back, suddenly shy -- and yet he knew that he had to have this woman, even if it cost him all of his hard-earned coin.
"Madam," he said politely as she saw his empty goblet and came over with the wine flagon. "May I -- may I have the pleasure of that lady's company?"
He indicated the gorgeous brunette who was still standing in the archway that led to the rooms, still looking at him, and still smiling that beguiling little smile. The four girls on his lap, sensing that they were not going to be needed here much longer, were now removing themselves one by one and transferring their attention to another gentleman who had just been shown in and was sitting in one of the other chairs.
"In that lady's case it is her decision," said Madam Elise. "Estara is, shall we say, not one of the common number here. She is an extremely accomplished whore who has worked for me for many years, and her time does not come cheaply. If she accepts you, it will be forty-five silver coins for as long as she chooses to entertain you -- so you had better be prepared to give as much as you receive if you want to get value for your money!"
Forty-five silver...that was certainly a high price. But Derran had it to spare and if she made good on the promise contained in that smile, it would be worth every coin.
Madam looked enquiringly at Estara, who nodded briefly. Derran counted out the money into Madam's outstretched hand, still gazing at his soon-to-be partner for the evening, taking in her narrow waist and generously rounded hips and her full, firm breasts. As she walked towards him, her pelvis swayed hypnotically and her long tapered legs were exposed in all their glory by the outrageous slits in her skirt. Hunger for her coursed through him, and on a whim he added five more silver coins to the pile in Madam's hand.
"A generous customer!" she exclaimed. "Thank you kindly, sir."
"See that she gets that," he said quietly. "I will be checking."
Madam nodded, although she looked disappointed. "Of course, sir," she said.
Suddenly he wished he had given the tip to Estara personally. But all thoughts of money melted away as she reached his side and took his hand.
"Good evening," she said. Her accent, unlike the other girls, was cultured, and her voice was rich and vibrant. "I am Estara. And you are...?"
"Derran, my lady," he said, kissing her hand. "Delighted to make your acquaintance."
"Come with me," she said, not letting go of his hand. Eagerly he allowed her to lead him into a large airy room containing the most luxurious bed he had ever seen. But it was not the bed she took him to but the chair next to it. When he was sitting down she climbed astride him and kissed him, deeply and with real passion, her tongue gently massaging his. She tasted incredible -- fresh and clean and ever so slightly spicy. He placed his hands on the sides of her waist; his fingers were so long that the tips nearly met around her back. She gave a little moan and pressed herself closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and running her fingers through his hair and over his broad shoulders. He kissed her back for all he was worth, copying her moans and, in spite of the insistent throbbing and hardness between his legs, hoping for nothing more than to go on kissing her forever.
"I wanted you as soon as I saw you," she whispered into his ear, running her tongue up the side of his neck and making him gasp with surprise and delight. "I couldn't let those little girls take you on, thinking they've got what it takes to please such a man."
"What do you think it takes?" he asked breathlessly. Being relatively inexperienced he genuinely didn't know exactly what he wanted -- only that he wanted something more fulfilling than a quick screw with a girl who didn't understand him.
"Patience," she said. "Time. Passion." She punctuated each word with long, slow kisses that made his head spin. "Guidance. Affection. Me."
She was on her knees in front of him now, unbuttoning his shirt and kissing each inch of skin as it was exposed to her. "Such a gorgeous boy," she purred. "And so neglected. I'm going to make you feel like a god. And I'm going to make you come so hard and so often that you'll be dry for weeks."
Derran gazed down at her in disbelief. How could he have lived twenty-eight years and never known such women existed? No wonder she was so prized here, if she did this to every man who entered her bedchamber! And, although he was no expert on the subject, he got the impression that her desire for him was real, not something put on, and that she actually enjoyed her work.
He was impatient to see her naked. She had his shirt off now and he wanted to feel her skin against his and to look at her beauty. He hadn't realised it until now but her dress fastened up with hooks and eyes, all the way down the length. She seemed to guess what he wanted for she stood up and guided his hands to the top fastening.
"That's right," she said as he began to undo them, trying to be patient and do it one fastening at a time but finding that they were coming undone two or three at a time because his hands were so large. "Unwrap me like the best present you'll ever receive."
"You are the best present I'll ever receive," he murmured. He was down to her navel now. The musky scent of her body was driving him wild and it was with difficulty that he didn't just rip the garment off in one go.
She chuckled. "People don't normally pay for presents."
"I think you are a gift from the gods, Estara."
"Oh, you sweet man," she said, sounding genuinely touched. He looked up at her and her big beautiful green eyes were shining with pleasure at his compliment. She stroked his face and neck lovingly. "You're not like most men who come here, are you?"
"How so?" he wanted to know. Finally that accursed dress was fully open and he was able to look at her. She was perfect. She had a real woman's body, with voluptuous hips and large heavy breasts with big dark nipples. He was momentarily shocked to find that she had shaved down below, but when he reached out and touched her carefully there and found how unbelievably soft the folds of skin were, and how wet with arousal she was, he knew why she had done it -- it was to give her clients greater access to and pleasure from her tight little cunt. She moaned sweetly and ground herself against his hand so that two of his fingers slipped inside her, putting her own hands on his shoulders for support, then began to move her hips back and forth, literally riding his hand.
"Oh, gods above," growled Derran, forgetting all about his unanswered question. She was so open, so unashamed of her desires and so unafraid of what anyone thought of her...and if she had been beautiful before, she was utterly stunning now, fucking his fingers with her pretty face showing every last little bit of pleasure she was taking from him.
"Oh, gods," he repeated. "Oh, Estara, do everything to me."
He reached out his other hand and ran it all over her body, pausing only to squeeze the ripe curves of her buttocks and breasts. When his fingers pinched her nipple she gave a little cry and held his hand there, at the same time pulling his head to her other breast. Sensing her need he flicked his tongue over the nipple in his mouth whilst gently tugging at the one in his hand.
"Oh yes," she whispered. "Oh...oh, yes, yes...oh, I'm going to come all over your hand..."
And with that promise he felt her cunt clench around his fingers, and a sudden gush of juice soaked him all the way to his wrist, trickling down his forearm. He knew that he would never forget the sounds she made either, those guttural cries interspersed with high-pitched panting as she fought for breath. Once she said his name, and he thought it had never sounded sweeter.
"Mmmmm," she breathed, slowing down finally and smiling at him, cat-like in her satisfaction. "Oh, thank you. What gorgeous big thick fingers you have and what a lovely talented mouth." She kissed him again and then guided his sopping hand to his mouth. "Taste what you did to me, you horny boy."
Derran was literally speechless as he gazed at her. He had never imagined that it could be like this -- that a female could take what she wanted so wantonly and give such wonderful praise -- and he loved it. He wanted every lover he ever had to be this way from now on. Her juice was liquid heaven; next time he came here -- and there would definitely be a next time -- he would forgo the nasty wine and drink Estara instead. He licked himself clean and then stood up, and she seized the opportunity to strip his bottom half too. His cock sprang out so forcefully that it slapped against his stomach. She chuckled with glee.
"I've been looking forward to this," she said, as if she had been waiting for it for weeks or months rather than a matter of minutes...or was it hours? Derran had lost all sense of time. She took hold of his cock and literally led him by it towards the bed.
"Lie down," she told him. He found the bed beautifully soft but firm too -- a lot like its owner, he thought wryly. His legs hung over the end but he was used to that. She lay down next to him and kissed him again, running her hand down his front until it found his cock again. To his amazement she began to stroke it up and down, the way he did when pleasuring himself -- only she seemed to have mastered the technique even better than he had.
"Oh," he gasped as the pleasure began to build up, far faster than he was expecting it to. "I'm going to --"
"No, you aren't," she said mischievously, and her hand slowed down. He groaned with frustration and tried to fuck her hand, but she only laughed and slapped his cock playfully.
"Not yet," she whispered.
"Such a well-mannered boy." Her hand began to speed up. "I'm going to make you come all over yourself and then lick it all up and swallow every drop."
"Stop it," he gasped, turned on beyond bearing by her words. "I'm not going to be able to hold back. And I want to make love to you." He had expected to say 'fuck' rather than 'make love' -- where had that come from? he wondered.
"You're adorable," she said, kissing him again as she slowed down once more. "I want you all night, big man, so there'll be plenty of opportunity to do everything you want to."
"All night?" He could hardly believe his luck. "Really?"
Her mouth tasted so good, and the words she spoke were just as delicious. There was no holding back this time, and she knew it. "Moan into my mouth," she whispered as she kissed him again. And he did -- long, loud, deep moans that seemed to rise up from his very core. He was vaguely aware of being splattered by his own fluid and that only made his climax more intense. He hoped she was going to keep her word...and then he felt her warm tongue sweeping over his stomach, and sighed happily.
"Very tasty," she said, licking her lips salaciously. He smiled down at her and shook his head in disbelief.
"What's wrong?" she asked, suddenly concerned. "Absolutely nothing," he told her, stroking her cheek. "I'm just not sure that I didn't dream you up and that I'm not going to wake up alone."
She smiled, and rested her head on his chest. "Not tonight," she said softly. "Not tonight."
They lay there for a while, holding one another and drifting in and out of sleep. Derran woke from blissful dozing to find Estara licking and sucking his cock, which had recovered from the pleasure of earlier and was now hard again.
"Mmmm," he sighed as her soft wet mouth slid up and down. She made the same sound, followed by that throaty chuckle of hers he was getting to know and love. He watched her for a while, fascinated by how much she seemed to be enjoying it and relishing the wonderful sensations it was giving him. Suddenly he was overtaken by the longing to have her on her back so that he could explore that hot body of hers. When she came up for a rest he said, "Come and lie down."
"All right," she said, doing so. She looked vulnerable somehow, lying there with her legs apart and gazing up at him with those bewitching eyes of hers. He knelt between her legs and began to run his hands lightly over her body, enjoying how smooth her skin was. Her nipples stiffened, and her breathing became deeper as she responded to his touch. He leaned down and kissed her lips, then let his mouth go on a tour of her whole body, his hands still traversing her curves, her little breathy sighs and moans making him impatient to have his cock in her. He couldn't believe he hadn't done so yet...and yet he still held out. The taste of her juice still lingered at the back of his mouth and he wanted more. His mouth was hovering over her pussy. He kissed it lightly and this time it was her turn to groan in frustration and his turn to laugh delightedly.
"Eat me, Giantblood," she said, and the tone was as pleading as it was threatening. Derran had not been called that by a woman before; technically it was an insult, but coming from her and said in that way it sounded incredibly erotic. "Eat me or it'll be the worse for you."
I think not, he thought wickedly as he ran his tongue up her slit. She was delectable, a feast to be savoured and he intended to make the most of it. She moaned and ground her cunt into his face. In response he put his hands on her thighs to hold her down, knowing she would not be able to fight him off. She tried all the same though, and did a creditable job of it -- but he was much stronger than her and they both knew it. She grabbed his hair and pulled on it, trying to make him do her bidding that way. But he had suffered worse in his years of living in the mountains and, although doing so made him grit his teeth against the pain, he still held off.