One Pheasant Evening

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A passing illusionist gives a wench more than the usual tip
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14 Followers

Along the roads to the great city of Shawl are many small taverns and roadhouses. It is only to be expected. After all, cities draw travelers, travelers need places to stay, and not all of those places can be found within the cities' boundaries.

On one such road sits the Spiny Toad. A quaint, pleasant place with a warm fire and friendly enough people...both the customers as well as the ostler and wenches. Granted, the groom can be a bit surly, but one cannot have everything.

At least, not usually.

There are those with luck or the backing of the gods who seem to have all they want. Others are born into positions of money or power and it would seem they have it all, but appearances are funny things at times. The man who stood before the Toad one evening knows exactly how funny they can be. He is tall...well built...sturdy of frame, yet agile of limb...blessed with a robust constitution. One would think he had been a warrior or fighter of some sort. And, indeed, he toyed with such a life once upon a time in his youth. But it is not what he became in the end.

His appearance belies what he did become. He does not give off the impression of being a mage...an illusionist, in fact. But so he is.

Zalbor Goldweaver has been many sorts of adventurer in his travels. From dungeon crawler to mercenary to freedom fighter...varied have been his boots, the roles he has played. But on the night outside of Shawl, on the road that passes by the Spiny Toad, Zalbor sought only a warm place with good food and freshly poured wine.

His last group of travelling companions had sent him to the Toad. They had nothing but fine words for the people and food of the tiny little tavern. "Be sure and get the pheasant if they have it", he had been told by more than one person.

He walked through the doors of the Spiny Toad and heads turned to regard him. But, he is a stranger...a man never seen before at the Toad...and most turn away again, not thinking any more of him. Others let their eyes move along Zalbor's tall, but lithe form, taking in his arms and the hints of armor beneath his cloak...then moving their attention elsewhere. None recognized the brooch on his cloak as the medallion of a mage guild from the barbarian lands along the caravan routes to the Southwest.

There were few in Shawl that would.

Seeing a freshly wiped table, Zalbor sat down and looked about. He took in the Toad with all his senses, establishing just where had brought himself.

The Spiny Toad seemed to be a busy place, but not overly so. Most of the patrons seem to have come for the pheasant dinner Zalbor's friends told him of, and are eating and chatting among themselves over glasses of a deeply purple wine. Zalbor noted that one of the wenches appears to have less people she's waiting on and he smiled.

"You, miss, do you work here?", the mage asked and the woman gave him a look. Zalbor had seen such looks before, and he let his grin widen as she shook her head and sighed. Turning to square herself to him fully, the waitress cocked her hip, one arm bent, its hand holding a tray full of used glasses.

"Yes, Sir. What d'ye need?", Milyssa says while looking over Zalbor's clean but not very expensive looking clothing and gear. She tries to decide if she is likely to get a big tip and notices him eyeing her up and down...a deep blue-green gaze that catches the gold light of the lanterns and shimmer as it meets her own woodtoned one...flicking back to her cleavage more than once. {Yes} she thinks {a good tip, to be sure.}

"I need many things...but some of that wine for now...what's dinner tonight?", Zalbor replied. He was pretty sure what dinner was, and was looking for a meal of another kind entirely. Milyssa gives a short sigh at the illusionist's repartee, having seen too many of the type before. {But, still, he's not bad lookin'}

"Pheasant. And I'll get you the wine." Moving off, the wench made certain to put a bit more sway to her step. She sauntered away, making sure he got as good a look from behind as he did from the front. Pausing at the bar, Milyssa cuts her eyes over to his table, trying to avoid making it seem as though she was checking him out as well.

Zalbor had his eyes placed firmly upon her, his dark, pentrating stare meeting and holding her gaze, making her feel a bit uneasy. But, Milyssa pulled herself together. {A guest is a guest is a tip is rent and food to live on} she told herself. Taking a deep breath and straightening her posture a bit, smoothing out her dress and apron, Milyssa returned to Zalbor bearing a cup of wine. She placed it carefully before him, bending low and giving him his best look yet at her full breasts as they nestled within her laced blouse.

Zalbor took a deep breath, rubbing the down-like stubble on his chin, and asked,"What's your name? I hate to keep saying you or...wench..." He sipped at the wine and leaned back against the wall behind the table, jutting one leg out and letting Milyssa see his muscled calf and thigh.

She gaped a moment, unsure if the man before her was being brazen or wearing a codpiece. "Milyssa. Most folks just call me whatever comes to mind. Care for some of the pheasant...Sir..." She smiled, deciding she liked what she was seeing, no matter what it turned out to be. Zalbor smiled as well, and set his hand on hers on the table, the better to lean in for another look at the lovely bosom...close and personal.

"No Sir...have earned or been given many things, but no knight am I. I am Zalbor, just Zalbor. Pheasant sounds wonderful...perhaps some breast?" Those eyes shimmered again at her and Milyssa found she could not help but grin and laugh lightly.

"A breast man, hmm? Of course, Zalbor...just Zalbor...", she said as she slipped away for some food, giving him the swaying walk again and partially beginning to turn and watch him as she did before, but stopping herself as she felt his gaze upon her legs and bottom even at this distance. And heard his soft words as if he was right beside her.

"Actually, I prefer rump...not something pheasant's have much of..."

Milyssa acted as if she had not heard, continuing to sway as she walked into the kitchen for Zalbor's meal. "This should get me a BIG tip," she murmured to herself, getting him a larger portion of meat than usual, and from the best part of the current bird. As she left the kitchen, plate in hand...breadboard full of buttered loaf and hunk of cheese across her arm...she saw that Zalbor had relieved himself of his great traveling cloak, all resplendent blue leather and fur of a creature she couldn't begin to guess at, and was leaning his chair to put his back against the wall. The silvery mail he wore caught the tavern's light, both fire and candle, and shone with a warmth that drew Milyssa's eye.

It was rich and well-made, the sort of thing given by demihumans to those they named friends. She thought, at first, the armor was from a dwarven smithy...its quality so clear and obvious...but then she saw it was not the usual sort of chains or links the dwarven warriors and adventurers would come through the Toad in.

It was sinuous. The metalwork being intricately carved scales set just so...lined up to fit together like...Milyssa swallowed a sudden mouthful of nervous saliva as she realized exactly what the pieces of Zalbor's armor was sculpted to look like.

Hundreds of male and female...parts...linked together in the way men and women have been linking themselves since Time began.

Zalbor regarded Milyssa with a look af amusement, knowing exactly what she was reacting to and deciding to see if she will react to other enticements. Pushing backwards a slight bit, Zalbor set top of the chair's back against the wall while he shifted in his seat. He stretched out to let the fabric of his breeches tighten, showing the wellshaped legs of one who does much walking and riding...and another wellshaped something hidden at the place where his thighs met, barely covered by his tunic and surcoat.

Milyssa put both plate and breadboard down upon the table. Her eyes grew wide at the sight Zalbor had displayed before her, and seemed distracted from her serving tasks for a moment. Quietly, she stepped back saying,"Here, sir...", Zalbor's refusal of title forgotten for now. She sighed and a slight shake of her head caught the illusionist's gaze.

He responded by catching a soft hold on Milyssa's skirts and pulling her lightly in to him. She stood beside his chair, one of his hands resting in the small of her back...just at the top of her bottom's curve...fingers idly caressing a cheek.

"That sigh didn't sound good...come, join me...the others guests are taken care of...", he told her, motioning beyond them to show her that the room had emptied quite a bit. And, as he observed, those remaining were not clamoring for her attention. Milyssa looked around the room slowly, realizing that Zalbor is right...that no one needs her at the moment and she could probably take some time for herself. But should she?

{Why not?} she thought to herself, giving him a nod. "Yes, Sir. Thank you."

Zalbor smiled as he pushed the table further out from his chair and the wall, setting all the chair legs on the ground. He slid the next seat along the table closer to him and gave Milyssa a wink. "Lap or chair?", he asks, the mischievousness in his voice echoed throughout his face and body.

That playful attitude sounded within Milyssa, and she felt stirrings in her body, somehow it could tell this man was powerful and wanted her to partake of it, if only for an evening. While Milyssa was normally not quite so naughty, her flesh convinced her to be so tonight. "Lap!", she answered quicker than even Zalbor had expected.

"Done and done...", he said as he offered her a hand and helped her to come sit with him. Zalbor bunched and gathered the material of Milyssa's skirt and apron, seemingly to make it easier for her to sit upon him. She hesitated as she also felt her chemise being hiked up, forcing her to rest herself upon Zalbor with nothing between her flesh and his hard lap except the thin fabric of his breeches. But, at this close, his scent was intoxicating, his very touch commanding.

"Here, have a bite...", Zalbor said as he offered Milyssa some pheasant. He brushed his fingers against her lips, an arm encircling the wench and a free hand easing under the shelf of her garment to fondle a breast.

"Mmmmm", Milyssa murmured, pheasant juice oozing from the morsel of meat and trickling along her chin, a soft gasp escaping between bites as she felt his hand. She considered removing it, but decided not to do so...yet. Instead, she enjoyed the taste of the warm bird flesh, and the warmth Zalbor's hand was working into her own.

A soft whisper came to the serving girl's ear,"Methinks you have a need for more than food, just as I do...yes?" Turning her head to meet him face-to-face, she began to protest against the idea...but seeing how his eyes look at her, and how she looked in them...she stopped. She tried to think of what to do or say, when she heard her own voice both protesting and yielding in the same breath. "Ooohh, Sir. We're not supposed to...but...", Milyssa said, words trailing off as Zalbor continued to fondle her.

He, in turn, turns up the teasing, letting a thumb and forefinger gently twist and pull upon the rapidly hardening nipple. "But??", he prompts.

Milyssa figeted, feeling the moistness between her legs as Zalbor's nipple playing began getting her aroused. "Ohhh, Sir. But, never mind. I like that, Sir. Very much"

"Good...", Zalbor picked up another large bit of pheasant and bit into it, savoring its taste all over again, then feeding the rest of the morsel to Milyssa before burrowing his head into her body, kissing and nibbling at the wench's pale neck and a tempting ear. She moaned again, slightly longer and louder than earlier, and looked nervously at the other patrons in the tavern. The Spiny Toad was not particularly elegant, but it was better than a dive. It catered to a crowd of middle-class artisans and guildsmen, mingled with passing adventurers and scholars, and dockworkers who had money or who were officers or captains of the vessels they served on.

This sort of carrying on was not going to unnoticed nor ignored. While the doings in some establishments would make the followers of Cyn, the fertility goddess, blush, over all public displays were frowned on. Milyssa began feeling a bit anxious. She had no desire to miss work on account of a fortnight in the jail...or an evening in the stocks. But she had nothing but desire for this stranger who had come into the Toad to make her moan in such outlandish ways.

The illusionist interrupted her reverie and her worry to add to the latter. "Hmmm...is it just me, or are you getting my lap wet?", he asked in a quiet, nonchalant manner.

Even with the closest mirror being several sticks away by the bar, Milyssa knew she was blushing. "I'm so sorry, Sir!", she exclaimed, her voice cracking just a bit. She tried to jump up, afraid she of offending him with the lack of control over her body.

He dropped his hand from playing in her cleavage and moved both hands to hold her firmly in place. "Nonsense. Nothing to be sorry for, Milyssa...",he added, kissing her upon the cheek and then licking bits of pheasant meat and grease from her lips and chin. "But I think we shouldn't let such arousal go to waste...don't you?"

Her worries about the other people about her are forgotten, as Milyssa turned her look back on Zalbor quickly, hoping her meant what she thought he meant. "No, Sir. My Da always did say waste was a terrible wrongness. But, what can we do about it?", she asked, hoping he had rooms nearby to the Toad. She might could get away early, but was more likely to be told to hurry it up and get back to work. And she so hated the straw of the stables.

With a chuckle, Zalbor slid his hands from the tops of her thighs around their outer curve and down beneath her skirts. "Lift yourself off just a bit higher, and I'll show you..." Milyssa leaned forward, moving on his lap as he directed without questioning, then her eyes bulged as she realized what he had in mind.

"Here, Sir!?! Right here?"

"Of course...are you afraid?"

Milyssa gulped down her nervousness and took a deep breath. "No, Sir", she said, trying to reassure herself as much as Zalbor. Unconsciously, she spreads her legs a bit.

"Silly...be afraid...should we be found, it'll be the stocks and a letter of looseness for us both...", Zalbor cautioned as he reached under to raise himself and scoot his breeches down his thighs towards his ankles,"...but it's also...very...very...", he paused to pull Milyssa back down upon his lap, entering her in one firm, slow motion,"exciting."

"Mmmm....."

"MMMM!", the scream erupted from Milyssa's throat, only to be muffled by the mostly closed mouth at its end as she bites lip to keep from crying out. {Did I agree to this?} she thought to herself {Ohhh, but he feels so nice in there.} She could feel him pulling her more closely against his body, and the touch of his tongue against her lips as it sought entrance of another sort. She opened her mouth to him, even as her hips and thighs shifted and fidgeted to find the right spot from which to enjoy him down below.

"Mmmmoooofffmmmm damn...I knew this was a good place to stop...'Go to the Toad', they said,'best service around'...but, somehow, this is not what I think they had in mind." Zalbor smiled and laughed lightly as he enjoyed the wench, hoping Milyssa was having a good time too. He turned her bit by bit until she was astride him, front to front, and bucking slowly beneath her...left hand supporting her back as it rested against the table's edge, right undoing more of the lacing on her blouse. As her bosom surged into view, he turned his hand towards the lightly crowded, but still populated commonroom. He gestured in some fashion Milyssa could not see, but she was too busy to notice anyways.

Milyssa shook a little with laughing at his words, but mostly she arched her back and accepted what he gave her, not caring if the world saw them---let alone some petty craftsmen and sailors. But she bit her lips and cuts a glance in their direction anyways.

Zalbor noticed. "Look at them...they have no clue...some of them have prolly wanted to do this do you for years and years..." Milyssa swung her head about to meet his eyes, and he revealed his right hand wrangling arcanely and flashes of a rose-coloured flame flaring from the ruby of a ring upon his finger. Zalbor concentrated on something besides Milyssa for a second longer as he used the power of his ring to silently cast an illusion about them.

Seeing the ring, Milyssa realized what sort of man Zalbor was and felt the excitement and danger of dallying with him grow to heights she had not thought possible. Pushing and prodding her to passions she'd never seen or experienced. {A wizard! Am I enchanted then?} the doubting thought raised its head in Milyssa's brain {No...I have protections there. This is what it is...man and woman in need of one another...and he merely safeguards what we do.}

Zalbor had continued speaking while she thought. "But all they see is us eating and laughing and sharing an evening...while I fuck you right before their eyes...", he laughed as he lifted Milyssa onto the table, sitting her at the edge and then sliding her back and pushing her onto her back and raising her legs against his still clothed upper body, sinking himself in and out of her, again and again.

"Ooohh"

"And I had friends who wondered what I saw in studying illusions."

Beneath him, Milyssa was only barely aware of his words. She had become oblivious to the world around them, aware only of Zalbor and the way he was making her feel. Wanting more, she spread herself wider to take him in deeper. And the illusionist smiled down at her, bending his body over her to lavish kisses upon neck, mouth, and now uncovered breasts. She reached up and gripped his arms tightly, bracing herself and bucking against him from the table.

"That's it...move yourself...hmmm here, bring that hand down, let me see you touch yourself..." He slid her hand from his arm and brought it across her stomach, she stretched out to run her slender fingers along her sex...and his shaft. Even with the knowledge of his spell, the thought of obeying his commands, of doing what she was doing in a room full of people sent shivers through her very being. Shivers that she wanted to make into explosions.

"Please, Sir, please may I cum, Sir?"

"Oh, I love a lass who knows what she wants...", Zalbor laughed,"and well trained too. Or are you always so formal and polite?" But Milyssa didn't answer. She continued fingering herself, arching her back against him and pushing towards the table's edge to feel him deeper inside her. Her moans grew louder. "Oh yes...come for me my girl...come all you will...."

"Ohhh YES! MMMMHHHHH mHHHHHH"

Milyssa screamed. Wave after wave of raw power and desire crashed against her spirit, her body rippled beneath Zalbor as the sensation of pure lust exploded within her body. She rode the feeling to until it peaked and let herself subside with it.

Or so she thought.

As Zalbor felt the contractions of her around him, he sighed and moaned, feeling as if he would join her in ecstacy, but she dropped off and he opened his eyes to regard her as she lay upon the table. With a slightly evil smirk to his lips, Zalbor withdrew and knelt before Milyssa. She gasped at the sudden emptiness, but then did her best to cry out, purr, and catch her breath as the illusionist's mouth closed over her sex...sucking up the flowing juices, his tongue flickering about all her most sensitive places.

"MMMMHHHH"

Milyssa knew Zalbor could feel her muscles contracting again. Only this time they pulled and tugged at his tongue, trying to draw it further inside her and hold it in their strong, velvety embrace. But it slipped away from her and began to dance around her magic place. Then his lips closed upon it and Zalbor slipped a finger into her tighter hole as he sucked on the nub.

Remec
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14 Followers
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