In a world of magic, words should not hurt so much. They shouldn't. They were nothing compared to the vast fires cast at the tip of a staff. Fern especially wouldn't let mere words dictate her.
"You look plumper. That's all."
It was a remark slapped at her cheek after she daringly ate one too many sweets. Ridiculous. Stark was being ridiculous. The stupid human had no idea what he was talking about.
A mirror reflected the supposedly plump woman. Pride and insecurity clashed in the small inn room, the violet eyes of the almighty Fern narrowed in a sharp, critical pout.
How irritating. His remark was casual and although he immediately understood his mistake…she didn't know why it was a mistake. Being plump wasn't bad. Having big boobs and an ass that jiggled with every step wasn't bad.
Right?
Ugh, maybe it did bring too much attention.
Such thoughts went round and round and Fern struggled with what to settle with. To just move on or to berate Stark when he returned. Decisions, decisions…
The afternoon sun cast a warm rectangle of light across the worn wooden floorboards, illuminating Fern's lovely reflection with unforgiving clarity. She lifted her arms, letting the fabric of her usual black-and-white robe stretch taut across her torso. Her full, rounded breasts pushed against the deep neckline.
"Mm…" The curve of her boobs seemed larger today. Was Stark right? Her waist, always a narrow contrast, felt the pinch of the belt more snugly. Her hips seemed to dominate the reflection, as wide as a mother's.
'Plumper.'
An hour had passed and for an hour the word "plump" echoed in her mind. Simple and careless, tossed out as they packed their gear. He'd initially meant it as an observation, maybe even a compliment, but it had landed like a stone in her stomach. He'd said she was looking "plumper lately," with that easy, oblivious smile of his. Fern had stiffened, her reply a clipped "Thank you for your assessment," before turning away to finish her task. Stark was oblivious and apologized out of male instinct. He even tried to correct himself.
It didn't work.
Now, alone, the insecurity bloomed, hot and prickling.
Fern wasn't a frail elf like Frieren. She was a hot busty young woman. Silently, she was proud of it and the maternal poise it gave her. But Stark's comment… it made her…
Honestly, she didn't know what it made her feel.
Fern sucked in a breath, trying to make her stomach look smaller, but the robe didn't cooperate. She let the breath out in a frustrated sigh, her shoulders slumping.
'He's out there right now,' Fern thought, 'probably not even thinking about it.'
Stark had gone off to deal with a monster plaguing the outskirts of the town—some nuisance the locals couldn't handle themselves. He'd left with his big, gray-and-silver double-headed axe, eager for a straightforward fight. Fern had stayed behind, ostensibly to research local magical history with Frieren, but mostly to stew.
She turned away from the mirror, the pout fixed on her lips. 'He should apologize,' she decided. But first, he had to finish his job.
***
Outside, the town of Auenbach stretched in a lazy, sun-drenched sprawl. It was a place of sturdy, half-timbered buildings with steeply pitched roofs. Blues and greens were the most common colours, particularly on rooftops. The architecture spoke of a prosperous past tied to the river trade, now a bit sleepy. The town Auenbach was maintained by a lordly family who kept a modest library of historical and arcane texts.
That library was Frieren's current target.
The short elf mage walked alongside a young man whose demeanor was as polished as his attire. Schwanz Eitel was the son of the town's lord. He was tall, handsome, with olive skin and black hair combed back in a sleek wave. Eyes as green as expensive emeralds. A short, well-groomed mustache and goatee framed his playful mouth. He wore a rich, embroidered jacket that fit his well-built frame perfectly.
"Please don't worry. Stark can and will handle it," Frieren insisted.
"Are you sure? The beast's a nuisance, truly," Schwanz said, sincerely agitated. "I've heard the best knights and few returned."
"I understand. But Stark will be fine. Ultimately, it will be a battle of attrition. That is something Stark will never lose in."
Schwanz sighed. "I hope so. That overgrown forest wisp…its twisted roots of corrosive magic, it seems…impossible to kill."
Frieren nodded, momentarily glancing at the blue rooftops. "It will be a straightforward battle and Stark likes straightforward problems. Really, you have nothing to worry about, Schwanz."
"He did have an axe so I shall believe in your friend, Lady Frieren." He locked his hands behind him, polite and smiley. "But as our esteemed guest, Lady Frieren, would you like a gift?"
A long time ago, Frieren had saved his father. It was a family debt that had already been repaid. However, that didn't mean she wasn't deserving of being served well.
"Think of it as an advanced payment for your friend Stark's future success," Schwanz added.
"Ah, thank you. I do believe your family's library is said to have a grimoire on river-binding spells from the Third Age."
"It does," Schwanz said, his smile widening. "And I'm happy to grant you access. The librarian is an old fussbudget named Herr Brandt, and he will oblige if you show him my token." He produced a small, bronze disc from his pocket, etched with a stylized eagle. "Although…"
He stopped. So did Frieren, her head cocked. "Yes?"
"I'd only ask for a small favor in return."
Frieren tilted her head to the other side. "A favor?"
"Nothing arduous. Your apprentice, Fern—she is a striking young woman. I'd enjoy simply spending an evening with her."
Behind those eyes was lust and desire.
Frieren could not see those emotions. She was oblivious to it, much the way Himmel was.
"Fern is stern and knowing her…" Frieren mulled to herself. "But if it's just an evening, she might agree. And if I tell her about the grimoire…" It was a matter of equivalent exchange.
"Exactly," Schwanz said, his smirk deepening. "It's a simple exchange."
They stopped outside the inn, a two-story building with a sign depicting a carved owl. As if sensing her master's presence, Fern emerged from the doorway. Her violet eyes instantly swept over Schwanz with a judgmental intensity. Her long purple hair hung to her butt and her long, buttoned white dress gave a nice shape to her breasts.
Any man with two eyes could see them. This woman had shape.
"Master Frieren," Fern greeted, her tone flat. "And…"
"Fern, this is Schwanz Eitel," Frieren said, oblivious to the tension thickening in the air.
"Mr. Schwanz," Fern acknowledged fleetingly.
"I've made…an arrangement with him, if you don't mind."
"Master Frieren…"
"It's nothing much," Frieren said. "He will let me take the grimoire from his library if you spend the evening with him."
Fern's gaze snapped to Schwanz. His eyes were on her, tracing the lines of her robe, lingering on the swell of her breasts. His gaze was subtly lewd, trying to make it seem like it was appraising and confident. Ultimately, Fern could see through it: this noble man was inventorying something desirable. Fern felt a flush of disgust heat her neck.
She appraised him with narrowed eyes and saw everything she didn't like: smug arrogance, tall and handsome and well-groomed. Greedy eyes that wanted to buy everything he looked at. A playful and pretentious rich kid playboy. Exactly the type to avoid in a novel.
"No," Fern said bluntly.
Schwanz chuckled, taking the rejection in stride. "So direct. I admire that. But truly, it's only an evening. I would love to get to know you." He bowed his head and crossed an arm across his waist, formal and attractive. "Schwanz Eitel, at your service."
Frieren nodded. She saw nothing wrong with this man. The element of sincerity in wanting his save his town, for example, was true. Nothing sinister behind it. "Fern, it would help. The grimoire has a spell for purifying water sources. I'm…curious."
Fern's lips pressed into a thin line. She looked at Schwanz's smug, handsome face, his playful green eyes, his rich-kid demeanor. Everything about him irritated her. But Stark's comment still rankled, a sore spot in her mind.
Her eyes, if on female instinct, ventured his body and lingered on his crotch. Huh. There was quite a…bulge there. Did he not wear the proper-sized breeches?
How arrogant. How stupid.
Fern looked at Frieren. She was just blinking and…she didn't exactly want to let her master down. Fern sharply exhaled.
"Fine." Pause and repeat. "Fine."
Schwanz's smile didn't waver. "Thank you, my beautiful lady." He bowed his head at her and then handed the bronze token to Frieren in that same motion. "The library is at the end of the main street, the stone building with the green door. Herr Brandt is inside. He'll assist you."
Frieren took the token, gave Fern a small, unreadable nod, and wandered off in the direction he'd pointed. Now Fern stood alone with Schwanz on the quiet street.
Fern glared at him. "Let's get this over with, Mr. Schwanz. Where?"
"My rooms are in the family's manor, but they're… formal. The inn has a private suite on the second floor, reserved for guests of stature. It's more comfortable." He gestured toward the inn's entrance. "We can talk there."
"And how much talking will there be?" she asked bluntly.
Schwanz flashed a pearly white smile. "As much as you'd like, my lady."
Fern's instincts mentioned caution, but her pride—and that lingering insecurity—pushed her forward. She followed him inside.
***
Creak! Creak! Creak!
"Unhhh! Nghgghh! Unh! Unh, unh, unnnnh!!"
A man and a woman walking into an inn was one thing: the son of the lord and an attractive woman walking together spelled out the most blessed of conclusions.
Raw, vigorous sex.
Creak! Creak! Creak!
Hearing your partner moaning in bed can be pretty hot. The bed itself moaning and squeaking? Equally as hot. The springs creaking rhythmically and the bed banging into the wall. It was the frontmost sign of great sex. Not good, not mediocre, great sex.
"Mmmph! Nggghh!"
Toe-curling, bed shaking sex.
"Gonna cum, Fern?"
"Ngggh! S-s-shut uppp!!"
Her boobs jiggled. She was no in place to shut him up. She was in no condition to shut him up. Looking at her, one might mistake Fern for a common whore.
From her bangs to the splitting mane of hair down her back, Fern was sweating pathetically. The sheets underneath her were being gripped tightly by her fists. She was trying to be on all fours but—
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
Creak! Creak! Creak!
This big dick bastard wouldn't let her! He pounded into her and her legs gave out!
Fern's stomach dropped onto the sheets, her arms grabbing onto the silver headboard. Gasping, she kept her grip as he fucked away. The pride of a woman like Fern couldn't be understated. She wasn't intentionally letting this happen. No way. Not for this man. But…but…
Creak! Creak! Creak!
Her pussy was getting demolished by a fat cock. Her pussy lips were struggling, tightening, and overflowing with wet juices that coated his burly manhood.
All because of him. This stupid, arrogant lord.
He walked with swagger for a reason. He walked with a smirk for a fucking reason. It was one thing to be a haughty lord with a big dick. Hearing it in action demoralized the ordinary. Not only was Schwanz Eital rich and arrogant and influential, he had the dick game to back it up. He was the cause of envy and seething hate.
Creak! Creak! Creak!
The olive-skinned stud thrust and buried his cock deep into her. The classic sound of his balls smacking against a jiggly fat ass rang like an afterthought following the creaking. He pulled back almost completely, only to slam home again.
Plap, plap, plap!
Again and again and again.
"Ah! Ah—nggggh!"
To put it politely, Fern's moans were ripped raw from her throat. Her hands clutched at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, but she wasn't pushing him away—she was holding on, her fingers gripping for purchase as he drove her up and down the bed.
The position was simple, dominant: him on top and her on her stomach and desperately clinging to the headboard, trying not to fall into the pronebone position. That, she believed, meant defeat and submission.
"Gods, you feel incredible." Smirking, he leaned down, his face close to hers, his breath hot on her cheek. "So full, so soft to hold onto. I love a woman with curves I can really grab." His hands slid down to her stomach and his fingers squeezing the firm flesh there. Then they went over to her hips, squeezing again and then matching his squeezes with his thrusts.
"Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods…!"
Fern's god-cursing mutters were followed by a drool that she slurped up. She didn't want him to see. She wouldn't lose. No!
Was the frame too loose? Did the headboard have too much flex? It didn't matter, it made a hot sound. It also earned the erotic moans of an angel.
Creak! Creak! Creak!
"That frail boy can't please a body like this. He doesn't know what to do with it."
"N-no…!"
The fucker didn't hear her. She was whispering, her mind and body a hazy mess, so intense it felt like a different climate.
'Stark…!'
Stark and Fern. That one time, months ago, there was a clumsy, passionate accident after a shared victory. They had fucked. It was sweet and long and amazing. I-it had been almost too much for her. It had left her trembling, overstimulated in a way that felt more emotional than physical.
"You a virgin?"
But then she was reminded of this cock and this performance. So far…
"N-no!"
So far…
"Ah-ha! A slut then!"
Fuck! So far, Schwanz was blowing Stark out of the water!
"S-s-shut up! Bastard pervert!"
It was a thousand times better, her pussy was telling her. Schwanz's cock was just bigger—gods, yes, it was bigger. Better too. So much better. It filled her in a way that stretched her inner walls to a breathtaking tightness, then rubbed against places that sparked fireworks behind her eyes. Each thrust sent a shockwave through her core, radiating out to her breasts, her thighs, her toes. Her pussy, slick and dripping, clenched around him instinctively, trying to hold onto that invading, glorious dick.
'A bonafide sex god,' her traitorous, pleasure-drunk mind supplied. 'According to your pussy.'
Fern refused it. She gritted her teeth, trying to lock down the moans that wanted to escape.
"You're… a degenerate pervert," Fern spat. "Y-y-you, ngggh, think you can do as you please!"
Schwanz laughed. "I can," he said, not arrogant, just matter-of-fact. He changed his angle slightly, tilting her hips up, and the next thrust hit a spot that made Fern's vision whiten."Gnggh! Mmmph~!" She groaned, her back arched violently off the bed and she almost released the headboard. Almost! Take that!
"See?" he murmured, slowing for a moment to let her feel the full, aching presence of him inside her. "Your body knows what it wants. You're trying to fight how much you love this cock."
Fern's denial was a silent scream in her head. 'No. I won't. I won't lose.' She was confident in her own body, in her control. She wouldn't surrender to this… this playboy. But her pussy was betraying her. Her hips began to rock minutely, matching his rhythm even as she cursed him. Her inner muscles fluttered around his shaft, milking it, begging for more.
"Heh, look at you! Your hips are politely wanting to fuck me!"
"N-no—!"
He grabbed her by the cheeks and pulled Fern's face toward him. They kissed, tongues colliding. Fern moaned as he fucked her throughout the kiss, making her take his dick AND his slimy tongue at the same time.
"Mmmmh! Mwah!" He pulled back, if only to go down and grope her left boob. "Your tits are amazing too!"
Squeeze! Her nipples were a little large, even on her DDs. But he didn't mind, not one bit.
"I love this plump body!"
Strangely, a flutter started from her heart down to her pussy. Feeling it, Schwanz grinned.
Slam!
That fat cock and those fat balls began drumming her cunt and ass again. He let her grab the headboard again and demolished her cunt. Squeezing her boobs now while fucking harder now, faster. The bed creaked in a continuous complaint. Fern's orgasm built like a storm she couldn't evade. It started as a tightening in her womb. Then it spread as he thrust, electric tendrils shooting up her spine, down her legs. Her breasts bounced, just some inches above the pillow.
"I'm gonna make you cum," Schwanz declared. "I'm gonna feel you squeeze around me until you can't think!"
"N-not going to! N-not—!"
"Oh, you will! Come on!"
Fern never thought the day would come where she would be holding on for dear life and pinned under an arrogant, self-serviging big dick man. All sweaty in the sheets. He was extremely rough with his thrusts and occasionally turned her by the face to make out with her. The sloppy tongue kisses were breaks she enjoyed because…they gave her time to recover. Yeah. Just that.
Thrust, thrust, thrust!
Creak, creak, creak!
Her eyes rolled back as he kissed and thrust. Kissed and thrust.
Her cunt decided this was it. 'C-c-cummiiing~!!' A wave of pure, mind-blanking pleasure erupted from her core, washing over every nerve. Schwanz's tongue pulled from her and he witnessed Fern as she cried out. He loved it, groaning a little as her pussy clamped down on his cock.
"Oh fuuuck!"
Groaning, he came too. Rolling his powerful hips one last time as he did, shooting all that he had into her. Honestly, Fern was too busy with her own immense orgasm to notice him throbbing. Well, she noticed since his cock was annoyingly big but she couldn't focus on it.
Like puppets, they lost their strength and Schwanz fell on top of her. Fern's eyes rolled back, her mouth open in a silent gasp as a second, sharper orgasm tore through her. This one was centered on that deep, deep spot he was now pulsing and cumming inside.
A place Stark had never, ever reached.
A place Stark had never nutted in. She hadn't let him finish inside her.
As thick cum swamped her womb, her head instinctively twisted over. She needed love. She needed something more. He was the same and they met a sloppy, deep kiss. His tongue invaded her mouth, tasting her, sharing the heat of their joined breath. Fern, in her haze, eyes half-lidded, was all for it and she didn't even realize it. Only Schwanz did and he took it in stride;
The secret was out. Fern loved this. She loved him and his dick. And she didn't even have to say it.
When he broke the kiss, his eyes were dark with intent.
They had both finished together and kissed together. He was still inside her, his cock still hard, still immense. Except when he wanted to speak to her…
"Mmm!"
Fern pulled him into another kiss.
"Fah! You really love this cock, don't you?"
"S-shut up… I don't! We're just spending the evening together, that's it." Her eyes flicked away from his in embarrassment.
Haha, look at her! Still so shy!
"Well," Schwanz said, staring into her eyes and licking his lips, "we still have lots of time to break you in. The day is still young."
***
The same could be said for Stark. He still had lots of time to search for the monster.
"And lots of time to think…"
What a funny line to utter.
Stark wandered through the dense woods outside Auenbach. His large axe was laid across his back. The forest was quiet, the usual birdsong muted. He felt a gnawing guilt in his chest. Fern's reaction to his comment… he hadn't meant it badly. He liked her curves. He loved her curves. But the word "plumper" had come out, and her icy response had frozen him.
"I should apologize," Stark murmured. He'd do it when he returned. But first, he had to find this forest monster.
The townsfolk had described it as a "root-corruptor," a creature born from a blighted wisp that had fed on toxic soil. It was supposed to be slow, but its acidic sap could ruin a tree in minutes. Stark's job was to find it, destroy its core, and cleanse the area.
He looked up. It was still evening.
"Guess I'll be back sometime during sunset."
***
Spoilers: Stark did not.
Back in the inn, Schwanz watched her with a lazy smile on his face. He was lying back, nude and proud. Between his legs was a cock that all single men envied and balls that married men wished for.
What was Fern doing while Stark was searching? Technically, in some ways, she was doing a search of her own. Her hazy eyes were searching and scanning the cock in front of her. It was her first time seeing it like this. Out in the open, pointed up, and right in front of her.
Right in front of her.
'I've never seen one so…'
So big.
So big.
'So much bigger than Stark,' was the first thought she had when she saw it. That was when it was flaccid. Then the prevailing thought, 'Why is Stark's thing so much smaller…?'
Then again, he was small. Fern said as much when she saw through his clothes.
But this thing…
Before she knew it, her head was bobbed up and down the first couple inches. After cumming inside her twice, he expected clean-up and Fern gave it willingly. She searched and assessed his cock, deemed it worthy, and here she was. A minute went by in a flash and yet…
"Mmmmpph~!"
…down she went. There was still so much cock left to clean.
"You women. Ahh, you love your big cocks, don't you? Honestly, you should have as much fun as you want! Be free! Don't confine yourself to the whims of a single man!" Schwanz said, which Fern scarcely listened to. Her attention was on his cock.
"Pwah!"
Her lips and tongue were cleaning but she needed air. Fern, once again, was faced with the demonic cock she was working with. Demonic was no exaggeration.
Nine inches of thick, uncut meat, darkly tanned like the rest of him. The head was a smooth dome, the foreskin resting just behind the crown. Stark's cock… Stark's was maybe five inches, neat, cut, polite. This was a fucking weapon. A tool of pure, vulgar pleasure.
Not to insult Stark but it just didn't make sense how men's penises could be so different. Then again, she and Frieren were women and they were far apart too.
She stared at his cock with a kind of awe. This cock…it was like it was meant for her.
"It is… huge," she murmured.
Schwanz chuckled. "It fits you."
Sorry, Stark. This was Fern's mission now.
"Mwah, mwah, mwah!"
To kiss his fat balls, first the right testicle, then the left one. They were nothing like the peanuts Stark had. Her hands stroked him too, her lips suckling on the sack. The lewd, "Mwah, mwah, mwah!" matched the schlop, schlop, schlop!
She stopped stroking and squeezed his baby factories together with her hands to gift a sloppy, wet kiss. Simultaneously the sperm-churning balls shivered. Her lips were as soft as a virgin. Little experience but great tenderness.
Her hand started stroking again and Fern kissed her way up to the tip. "Mwah, mwah, mwah!" She travelled up the nine inch tower in a spiral. At the peak of the tower, her lips opened into a wide O-shape and she deepthroated him.
Five inches, everything Stark had, and her gag reflex forced her to retreat. Like a sign from her soul that this wasn't her soulmate. Stark was. He and his five inches were what she should be deepthroating.
"Ghkk!" Fern gasped and got the cock out of her. She was a stubborn woman. So what if her soul was telling her no? She was Fern. She could and would do better. "Mmwah!"
"Come on, Fern, you're supposed to clean, remember?"
Right. Right. How could she forget? That was her mission. To clean his cock.
'Am I going stupid?'
The purple curtains visually hid his cock. Tucking her hair back himself, Schwanz was able to see and feel Fern kiss his crown, then opened her lips and slid them over it. She sucked gently, tasting the remnants of their sex, salty and musky. Then she began to suck more earnestly, her mouth sliding down his shaft, taking as much as she could. She couldn't take all nine inches, but she took a good six, her tongue swirling around the underside, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked.
This was all about cleaning, so that was what she did with her swirling tongue. Slipping it under foreskin and spinning circles around his tip.
Bent over, nude, it was humiliating for a woman in love with another man. But love, as she would come to realize, came in many forms. There was familial love, romantic love, and sexual love. The devotion toward this cock, this act of cleaning, it was becoming clearer by the second which it was.
Fern accidentally slobbered on him and had to re-do some of the cleaning. Fern was no pro, she was an amateur after all. Schwalz didn't mind. In his view, it brought some character to her dick sucking.
Her hands worked the base, pumping in tandem with her mouth. She cleaned it as much as she worshipped it, reverent and carnal. She was losing herself in the act.
"Good," Schwanz remarked, his hand coming to rest on her head, not guiding, just appreciating. "Now use those fat tits."
Fern pulled off, her lips wet and glistening. Her eyes met his—
"You really are a perv."
Except the stern, judgmental Fern was gone. There was a hungry, needy woman there now. She pouted, huffed, and nodded.
Boobs like hers were not a dime a dozen. Schwanz had noticed them the moment she entered his town. He couldn't believe that easygoing redhead Stark was able to get her to smile. Tits like those deserved to be used and fucked on the daily. She deserved to stay in one place and just have sex, not go out adventuring.
But at the same time…
"How's this, hm?" She purred, a faint smiling tugging at her lips.
She cupped her full breasts and pressed them together around his cock. The big pillowy boobs enveloped his big dick and the tittyfuck began right away. Up and down, up and down…
"Y-you adventurer women really are something else!"
Rocking her upper body, Fern used her breasts to massage his cock from base to tip. She buried almost every damn inch into her massive crevice. Only that final inch remained. In this state, his cock was almost cute. That is, if you could ignore how bulbous and angry and throbbing his crown was. She listened to him groan and she chuckled softly.
"You like that?" Fern asked, her voice lower than usual. "Hm? Hm? Hm?"
Like a fucking demon, her tittyfuck got feral. Fern got real rough in a way that surprised the man. Slamming those mammaries down—
Schliick! Plap, plap, plap!
Taking pride in herself too.
"These fat fucking tits! You like that?! You like 'em!?" She spat a thick glob of spit onto his tip and spread it across him with her breasts. A look of defiant challenge across her as she stared up at the self important man.
With some airy giggles, she repeated. Like a demon, she engulfed his gifted cock with her own gifted tits.
"Tch! Are you part demon or something!?" Fern asked as she stroked him up and down. Her brow furrowed, focusing on the veiny meat rod stuffed between her tits. "Nine inches…this kind of big cock…it's ridiculous!"
"Haaah~! You love and I love it," he said, smirking with his eyes locked on hers. "I knew you'd be amazing!"
Schliick! Plap! Schliick! Plap!
Fern huffed, her feral tittyfuck losing momentum. She wanted to say, "Shut up," but instead focused on making him cum.
Her tittyfuck continued and mashed his big demon dick with increasing intensity. Applying an immense amount of pressure with her hands, digging them deep into her supple breasts. Desperate to squeeze all the cum he had stored in his balls out of his tip. Hearing him groan but not throw his head back, without warning, she took the tip of his cock into her mouth.
Schwanz groaned, his hand tightening on her hair. "You're going to make me cum again….!"
She reeled back, saliva connecting the cock and her lips. She smirked. "That fast?"
"F-fuck! Yeah! Hell yeah! You're fucking amazing! You ready?!"
Spurt, spurt, spuuurt!
Like a fountain, a dash of cum struck her chin. Right then and there, smirking, she dipped down and suckled on the tip. Swallowing the spurts of cum like it was nothing. The volume was impressive but Fern could take it. By the time she pulled up, gulping his cum down her throat, Fern wore a degraded, cocky smile.
Looking down, she huffed. "This fat cock…it's still hard! How do you produce so much fucking cum?!" Fern asked in a mix of excitement and concern.
"Family secret!"
Just like that, he slammed her down his cock as he thrust upward. More inches of his cock poked out and her eyes went wide. "Mmmgggppph!"
Fern did not give up or lose. Oh yes, she was obeying him but losing to him? Letting him completely dominate? No, no, no!
Fern got right to it. The vulgar slut sucked and fucked her mouth on his cock. He groaned and grinned, relishing it, until he tensed. "Here's your next serving Fern!" His hips launched off the bed again and then he erupted. "Drink it all! Don't waste a fucking drop!" He growled with one final pump.
His second load did not lose any of its thickness or volume. Heaps of cum shot straight down her throat. Fern swallowed, gulping, her throat working around the influx. She took it all, not spilling a drop, just like he ordered.
When she pulled off, gasping, her face was flushed, her eyes bright with a fierce confidence. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
Her boobs had also exposed his cock. It was still fucking hard. Still nine inches of dark meat. Fern was shell-shocked. "Y-you big dick, stupid perv…! H-how…?"
Schwanz Eitel. It meant "Cocky" and "Conceited" in the local dialect. He smirked and stroked his dick.
Nine inch cock was at the ready and would continue to be at the ready.
Fern propped up her boobs, trying to cross her arms. She looked down at his cock, licking her lips with vulgar eyes. "Ha…" She found herself smirking too. "Fine then. Let's go all night, Mr. Schwanz."
"Say when beautiful…"
Her boobs and his cock. Both weapons were going to give it their all.
…
…
…
Stark brandished his axe.
"There you are…"
Stark controlled his breathing first. That was key for any good close-quarter combatant. He found the monster in a clearing where the trees looked sickly. The mana was so thick, he could actually feel it pricking at his skin. This thing was no joke.
The tree creature was a grey mass of twisted, fibrous roots. The grey was contrasted with a sickly green light at the core. That was where he could see an expression: two small holes for eyes and an arc working as its mouth. The green light was emitting inside there. However it manifested or by whomever, it didn't matter. It moved slowly, dragging itself along the ground, but when Stark stepped closer, it lashed out with a whip-like root, dripping with clear, acidic sap.
"Woah!"
Stark hefted his axe and slashed it apart. Droplets of the green acid landed on his cheek. Hissss!
"Not good."
He jumped backward. Any normal adventurer might have been killed right then and there. His knuckles rattled from breaking those branches and that acid easily melted his flesh.
According to Frieren, while tough, this monster was a straightforward problem. He could solve it.
"It's what I do."
Stark's great battle had begun.
…
…
…
What a coincidence.
"Your pussy! Fuck! It's tightening up again, Fern!"
"I-I know! I know~!!!"
"So damn sensitive! I love it!"
"IT'S WHAT I DO, IT'S WHAT I DOOOO~!!"
Fern's great battle had begun too.
A battle against backshots. Riveting, was it not?
Big boobs were pressed open against a window. Many passerbys saw the pink nipples flat on the glass and flushed red. That was Fern. Her hands were above and braced on the cool glass. Schwanz pounded her from behind, his hands gripping her hips.
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
He was taking her from behind, each thrust driving her forward against the windowpane violently. Beating the ever living shit out of her insides with his insatiable cock! Taking what he wanted!
The position fucked her cunt completely—her fat ass jiggled with each impact, a rhythmic bounce that Schwanz watched with hungry eyes. He spanked her. Being gentle was not an option. He was fucking her publically, as though making a claim. Hah, maybe because he was hoping for that Stark boy to return soon. He was probably having trouble with the tree monster.
Ah well.
"Fuuuck yes! Love this pussy! Unh!"
Thrusting like a loser yet fucking like a stud. That was what it was like giving backshots to Fern of all people. Men were desperate for that curvy, big titted body. Schwanz had been desperate for it. Still was, really. That was how fucking hot and erotic this slut was.
"That dopey redhead Stark—he's fucking you, yeah?"
"N-no! I-it was just—just once! Just once!!" Then, as though her brain was melting and he fucked a real answer out of her, Fern just went: "Y-yyessss!! Yes! YES, HE'S FUCKED ME!!"
"Was it as good as this!?"
Wham, wham, wham! His fat nuts went flat against her ass.
"Nooo! No! Not even close! Not even—" Fern had to slurp up her saliva. "STARK WASN'T EVEN CLOOOSE!! HE COULD NEVER MAKE ME CUM LIKE THIIIIS~!!"
His palm landed on her cheek a second time. The spank made Fern gasp and then moan. He did it again, on the other side. Matching red marks on both of her perfectly round and fat asscheeks.
"Seriously? He couldn't!? What, his cock too small!?"
"Yessss! Yessshhh~! HIS COCK WAS TOO SMALL! WAY TOO SMALL! I COULDN'T—I CAME BUT I COULD NEVER CUM LIKE THIS~!!!"
Fern's breasts were pressed against the window, their soft flesh flattened against the glass. The sex was so divine, her vision consisted of vague outlines of the town outside. Each thrust sent a shock through her, her insides stretched and filled in this new, deeper angle. He was hitting a place that made her thighs tremble. She felt like they were going to give out any second.
"What a waste. Not getting dicked down properly is a travesty. Your ass is perfect." Schwanz grunted and thrust. "So fat, so good to hold. I'm gonna fuck you until you can't stand, Fern!"
He spanked her again, a harder blow that erased the previous mark and bloomed a new one on her skin. Fern cried out, but the cry turned into a wanton moan. She was pushing back against him now, meeting his thrusts, her own hunger meeting his. Her ferocious ass slammed back into him, offering him a challenge as they matched each other's thrusts. Schwanz had found a worthy partner in her, there was no doubt.
"Y-you better! You fucking better!"
…
…
…
"Better not get hit by that!"
Stark ran and swung his axe, the blade cutting alongside a lengthy stretch of wood. This thing hurled and controlled wood like it was rubber. It was ridiculous!
Cutting the wood caused the acidic sap to be exposed and splatter, smoking where it hit the ground. He dodged another lash. He needed to get to the core.
The tree monster's expression was stagnant. The core inside and seeping through the holes acting as its face did not. The green brightened and Stark went wide-eyed as he was blasted by a powerful beam. His axe came up and he blocked—
"Grrrrr!"
Stand ground, stand ground, stand ground…!
…
…
…
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
Backshots, backshots, backshots!
CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—! CLAP—!
Take the backshots, Fern! Take them!
"Cumming, cumming, ohhh fuuuck, I'm cummiiing again~!!" Fern cried out in delicious agony.
"Music to my fucking ears!"
"Y-you're just—nnggh! Whateeeever! Just keep fucking meeee~!!"
This was her battle.
Fern's moans were continuous now, a stream of sound against the glass. Her body was slick with sweat, her lengthy purple hair sticking to her neck and spine. He held her hips tight, controlling her and owning her.
"I'm gonna cum inside you again," he announced, grinning. "Fill this perfect ass up!"
Fern didn't protest. She wanted it. Her pussy was screaming for it. She pushed back hard and Schwanz whistled. "Love you, Fern!" Feeling her insides clench around him sealed the deal.
"Ah! Ah! Ah! Cumming—Gods! Soooo fucking good!!"
He slammed into her, one final, deep thrust, and then he groaned. Fern felt the hot rush fill her, another claiming flood. It triggered her own climax, a violent, full-body orgasm that made her eyes roll back. Her breasts pressed harder against the window as he emptied into her.
…
…
…
The blast had emptied the tree monster.
"Haah…haah…!"
The blast had destroyed much too. The forest clearing was officially a graveyard of scarred trees, their bark weeping gray. In the center of the destruction, Stark heaved, lived, and stood.
"P-phew. Can't believe I actually survived that."
This thing wasn't a beast of flesh, but a perversion of wood and magic. He didn't expect it to go for a killshot right after seeing his abilities. The tangled, pulsating mass of grey roots formed into a smaller, more compact body. The tree had previously been fifteen feet tall; now it was half that size.
The core had become much more visible, sacrificing its expression for a a lattice of fibrous tendrils. The core throbbed a sickly green orb. The atmosphere suddenly reeked of vinegar and rot.
Stark hefted his double-headed axe and breathed. 'Just find the core, smash it, clean up.'
The tree monster lurched and a thick, whip-like appendage, dripping with that ever dangerous acidic fluid, lashed out with surprising speed. Stark ducked, the tendril whistling over his head to strike an oak behind him. The tree's bark instantly hissed and smoked, etching a deep, weeping scar.
"It's faster now…!" Stark muttered, jumping and dodging again and again.
He feinted left, then darted right, closing the distance. His axe swung in a wide, powerful arc, shearing through a cluster of smaller roots guarding the creature's flank. The severed pieces writhed on the ground like dying snakes and his axe actually thunked into the main bark.
It should have chopped the tree right in half. But he penetrated maybe three or four inches.
"What…?"
The gash he'd made began to knit itself back together, new fibrous growth snaking over the wound. He was going to swing again and try to chop it in half. He was too slow.
'This thing! It regenerates fast!'
From behind, he sensed an attack and he was right to follow it. Acid was thrown at his back. He back-flipped over it. Seeing that he was back where he started, Stark's confidence wavered. He danced back as two more root-tendrils shot toward his legs. He chopped one, sidestepped the other. The acidic sap splattered near his boot, the leather steaming.
'I should've brought Frieren. Or Fern. A distraction spell, a barrier…'
He pushed the thought away, guilt twisting with the practical need. Focus.
The monster pressed its advantage and drove him back with a series of heavy, sweeping blows. Stark parried with the haft of his axe. He was strong, he wouldn't lose in that contest. But this thing, its stamina was endless! An unfeeling, relentless force that was even a demon could not replicate. It made no mistakes.
For the first time in a long while, Stark wished he wasn't alone.
Alas, tonight, he stood alone.
…
…
…
Stark was not the only man making a lone stand.
"Unnhh! F-fucking me like this, fucking me like thiiis! You're an animal! An aniiiimal~!!"
"I know I am!"
Schwanz was making a stand of his own.
PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—! PLAP—!
…in a manner of speaking. The inn room echoed with the sound of raw, animalistic sex. A woman was sliding down the lone man's cock.
Fern was suspended in the air, her world reduced to a screaming vortex of a big dick in her cunt. Schwanz held her, his arms hooked under her knees, pinning her legs over his shoulders. Her own arms were trapped, folded back and held at the wrists in his single, vice-like grip.
This was a standing full nelson. This was a position she had never experienced, would never have thought of, nor would have experienced with Stark. This required a taller man with a longer dick.
"Oh fuckkkk! You fuck—you're making me cuuuuumm!!"
"I know I am! Come on, Fern, can't you hear yourself!? You love it!" Thrust! "You love my cock!"
Her eyes rolled back. Her pride couldn't muster a response. Her entire weight was supported by his hold and the terrifying, deep impalement of his cock driving up into her from below.
"Nnnggh—!"
Oh. Oh my god.
That was Fern. That was Fern shrieking.
"Mr. Schwanz—! MR. SCHWANZ~!!!"
Yep, that was her alright. Fern had never shrieked in her life until now. Until this dick ruined her and broke her. Collectively, the inn sighed. The lord was certainly having his fun with a "worthy" woman.
Her head lolled back against his shoulder, her violet eyes wide and unseeing, pupils blown. Hours. It had been hours. The evening sun had long since faded into a deep twilight, and the room was lit by a single, guttering lantern that threw their monstrous, joined shadow against the wall.
God, the whole town must have heard her. The whole town must have been gossiping and muttering about her whore-like moans.
But…then she forgot when he thrust. This stud had made her a broken mess. The stern, judgmental apprentice was gone. The woman nursing a petty insecurity was annihilated. What remained was a primal, needy thing, wired entirely to the nine inches of flesh that was currently rearranging her insides with jackhammer precision.
A slut. A whore.
Who knows?
Every coherent thought dissolved the moment it formed, replaced by a white-noise static of pleasure so intense that it was akin to hypnosis.
"This is what you needed, wasn't it, Fern?" Schwanz grunted into her ear with that ever-present, smug amusement. He adjusted his grip, lifting her slightly to change the angle, and thrust up hard. The tip of his cock kissed her cervix.
Fuck.
Fern convulsed in a dry, shuddering climax.
"That frail boy with his gentle little touches… he'd never fuck you like this. He'd never ruin you like this."
"S-Stark… he's… he's not…" she tried to protest, but it came out as a gasping whimper. Another devastating thrust stole her breath. "Fuuuuuuuckk~!!"
"He's not what? Not a man who knows how to use a woman built like a goddess?" Schwanz taunted. He began to bounce her on his cock, using his hold on her wrists and knees to puppeteer her body, forcing her to take each savage drive. "Admit it. Your pussy is addicted to my cock. It's begging for it right now. Tell me."
"N-no…"
"Tell me."
He punctuated the command with a series of short, brutal pumps that focused directly on her most sensitive spot. Fern's resistance, what little wisps remained, evaporated in a flood of involuntary ecstasy.
"Yesss!" she wailed, the admission a surrender. "Yes! Yes! Yes! It—it needs it! I need it! My pussy needs it! Please! Keep fucking me with that demon cock~!!"
"Good girl," he purred, rewarding her with a slightly smoother, deeper stroke. "Now answer me this. What are you going to do about your boyfriend?"
"M-my—my boyfriend!? I don't, ngggh, no! N-no! I don't have one!"
Woah, did he seriously break her that easily? Didn't Fern say she was fucking that redhead guy?
"What about that redhead? Come on, you love him, don't you?" Grinning, he used all nine inches of his cock and went fucking deep. Adjusting his grip on her ass, hiking her up back on his dick. "Right? I saw the looks you were giving each other! You're dating!"
"H-he and I…" Fern almost blanked out. Romantic love and sexual love clashed. "W-we just—we're just friends!"
"Just friends? Seriously?"
Even he was surprised. Just barely, Schwanz slowed down. Just barely, Fern could gasp and recover and give a rational answer. "H-he and I, we've danced! A-and talked! And had sex ONCE! That's all!"
He slowed down some more. "So you like him?"
No answer. She just panted, drool falling in curled ropes.
"Well…" For maybe a second, he stopped. He was going to ask if she had originally planned to fuck Stark instead of him. Schwanz being a fuck toy, a replacement for the another man, it would be quite a revelation.
But frankly…the young lord didn't care. He was all for polygamy and polyamorous relations. Not to mention, as she so eloquently shrieked out before, Fern and Stark did have sex and it wasn't remotely as good as the sex she was having with him. He took great pleasure in that fact. Being the best fuck she's ever had.
So he resumed thrusting. Casually, Fern climaxed. Squirting another heavy dose of her juices down on him again. Whimpering weakly as she did.
"You and your little party are leaving tomorrow, yes?"
"Y-yes! Y-yes! Yeeeesss~!!"
"I find your company…" Thrust, thrust! "...invigorating. I think you'll escort me to the next town. You'd like that, wouldn't you? More evenings like this?"
The idea should have horrified her. He was weak after all. Instead, her soaked, well-used pussy clenched around him greedily at the mere suggestion. The prospect of more of this, of this wrecking, was a promise of paradise.
"Yes! Yes! Yes, we wiiiill!!" Fern shrieked, the words rising into a delirious crescendo as another orgasm (her seventh? Eighth? Who could count?) ripped through her.
Schwanz groaned and laughed. "Fuck, that's it…! Good girl!" Thrust, thrust. "Take it… take my cum, you greedy slut." He held her tight as he approached his peak.
In that moment, a sliver of rationality pierced Fern's haze. 'His seed… his baby batter…! Inside… what if… '
"W-wait… the… a baby…" she slurred.
He didn't stop. "Oh come on, you're asking now? After all the loads I shot into you?" But he was a sincere man and he'd tend to her concerns. "Don't worry. I know a spell," he grunted, fucking her with that same possessiveness. "You won't get pregnant! I can cum as much as you'd like me to and it'll only be for the pleasure! No baby!"
"Seriously?!"
"Yep!"
It was all the assurance she needed. She turned her head over and kissed him. Doing so, she became a vessel waiting to be filled.
What a fitting conclusion.
Schwanz's balls churned and he nutted. The hot magician babe felt the hot, familiar flood gush into her depths, another claiming load to join the others already seeping from her. It triggered a final, cataclysmic orgasm for her, a full-body seizure of pleasure that left her boneless and mewling.
According to Falsch, Fern was the youngest mage in history to pass the third-class mage exam with the highest score. She was the apprentice of the legendary Frieren. She was, for all intents and purposes, a great woman.
Yet even a great woman had their losses.
Her lips crudely melted away from Schwanz's and she almost thought she'd passed out.
…
…
…
Stark was battered, his clothes dotted with acid-burns. The tree monster was making mistakes at long last because it was running out of mana. Not to mention Stark had learned its rhythm: dodge the heavy lashes, slice the attacking tendrils, and whenever an opening appeared, carve another chunk into the core, two or three inches at a time.
He saw his final chance. The monster, attempting to regenerate a major wound, left its central orb exposed for a half-second. Stark didn't hesitate. He channeled all his strength, all his guilt, all his desire to just fix something, into one overhead chop.
The axe sheared through the final protective roots and sank deep into the pulsating green core.
There was a sound like shattering glass. The green light flared, then died. The entire tree monster shuddered, then collapsed inward. Just like that, it was inert and dead wood. The corrosive sap lost its sizzle, turning into harmless, sticky sap.
Stark stood panting, leaning on his axe. The battle was over. He'd won. But the victory felt hollow. Alone, victory felt like survival. There was no joy or love or happiness. Only oppressing silence. Talking to himself didn't feel satisfying either.
He was exhausted to boot, the adrenaline crash making his muscles tremble. He hadn't even realized how much the fight had taken out of him. All he could think was, 'I need to get back. I need to find Fern.'
For all intents and purposes, Stark was strong and great. He had done that which dozens before him couldn't.
Stark retraced his path through the dark woods. He ignored the fatigue settled into his bones. He emerged onto the main road leading into Auenbach. The town was quiet under the blanket of stars. As he trudged toward the inn, a small elf figure materialized from the shadows near the library's green door.
"Oh!" Stark blinked twice.
"Stark. Nice to see you."
"Frieren." He managed a tired smile.
"Mission accomplished?"
"Yeah, I got it. The tree monster's dealt with."
Frieren nodded. In her hands, she cradled a thick, leather-bound grimoire, its cover etched with spiraling patterns. "Good work. Honestly, I almost thought you couldn't do it."
Stark twitched. "Seriously?"
"It was sixty-forty."
"..."
"I'm just joking." Stark couldn't tell. "More importantly, I acquired the text on river-binding." She fell into step beside him as he walked toward the inn's entrance. "I might have to go back to the library. There are some other grimoires I'd like to read."
"Right, right. Is, uh, was Fern with you?" Stark asked, the question he'd been holding onto.
"She has been at the inn," Frieren said simply, her gaze forward. Why did she not mention her potential night with Lord Schwanz? Because it was night right now. The evening was concluded. In her mind, the transaction was complete. The specifics of how the evening was spent never crossed her detached, millennia-old perception.
Stark sighed, a weight lifting slightly. "Good. I… I need to talk to her. I said something stupid earlier. Need to apologize."
"That's good. I think." Frieren followed him as he pushed open the inn's heavy door. A inn owner threw Stark an apologetic look. He didn't notice. Neither did Fern.
The two of them climbed the stairs to their rooms. The hallway was dark and quiet. As they approached the door to the private suite—the one Stark assumed Fern had retired to alone—a lewd sound reached them.
"Oh."
It was a moan. Long, drawn-out, and unmistakably carnal. Fern's legs hovered for a fraction of a second, confused.
Stark paused, his hand hovering over the door handle. His tired mind fumbled for an explanation. 'Must be the neighbours,' he thought. Stark threw a glance at Frieren, but her expression was its usual placid, unreadable mask.
He turned the handle and pushed the door open.
The world slowed to an agonizing crawl.
The scene inside was illuminated in vivid, horrific detail by the single lantern. The visual alone was heart-breaking. The scent was like the wind being knocked out of him.
This…this was the musk of sex and sweat.
On the bed, in profile view, was Fern. She was on her hands and knees, her back arched deeply. Her purple hair was a tangled mess, stuck to her glistening neck and shoulders. Her face was contorted in a rictus of overwhelming pleasure, mouth wide open in a sustained moan.
"Cuuummiiing~!"
Fern's eyes were rolled back, showing only the whites.
For the first fraction of a second, to his shame, Stark thought it was a whore and that he had entered the wrong room. But those big boobs dangling, soft and pale, and then that moan…
It was Fern.
Behind her, holding her by the wrists and balls-deep inside her, was the most typical arrogant lord he had ever seen. With a goatee and black hair and a huge smirk—who had introduced himself to Stark Schwanz Eitel. His olive-skinned body was sheened with sweat, his muscles corded with effort.
Stark's gaze, against his will, was dragged downward. He saw the man's hips slam forward one last time, burying his cock to the hilt inside Fern. He saw the heavy, full balls beneath tighten and churn. And then he saw it—a fresh, thick stream of white cum, not contained, leaking out from where their bodies were joined, dripping down Fern's inner thigh onto the already-stained sheets below. Fern's body bucked violently, a shriek finally tearing from her throat—a sound Stark had never heard, a sound of total, wanton abandon.
Neither had noticed Stark and Frieren. Not yet.
Schwanz groaned and slowly pulled his cock out. The schlong was huge, glistening, and only semi-soft. It was dark, uncut, and monstrously larger than anything Stark had ever seen or possessed.
Fucking hell. Fuck, fuck, fuck. A rich lord with a big dick. Someone like Stark who already had a low esteem, it was another punch.
Flaccid, he was…small. He told Fern otherwise and kinda managed to make her say as much. His five inches had Fern saying it was "fine" rather than small.
But that thing? Good god, there was no way around. No way to say it was "fine" or "small". This was big. This made Stark's cock seem like a pathetic joke in comparison.
"Ngngshhh…." Fern collapsed forward onto the bed with a boneless thud, her ass in the air, seed now freely flowing from her used, gaping pussy. "M-Mr…Schwanz…!"
She said his fucking name as though whining about it. As though she still wanted that big, fat pipe inside her. She was breathing in sobbing gasps and looked spent.
It was Frieren, standing just behind Stark's shoulder, who broke the frozen silence. A rare, fleeting flicker of something like shock passed over her ethereal features. "That's…big…"
Yeah. Real fucking big.
Schwanz was the first to acknowledge them. He didn't startle or scramble for cover. "Oh! Lady Frieren!" He took a steadying breath, a genuine, relaxed smile spreading across his handsome face. He rose from the bed, completely unashamed of his nakedness and his gleaming, spent cock.
"Stark too!" Schwanz looked Stark up and down and saw the injuries. A sincere sense of relief flashed in his eyes. "Did you—ah! You did it! You actually did it! My apologies!"
Thwap, thwap! That fat semi-soft schlong slapped against his thigh as he casually walked over to Stark. He took Stark's hand in an overly friendly gesture.
"Stark, my friend, thank you! Truly!"
"Y-yeah…"
"Actually, Fern and I were just speaking! I'd like to join your party for a while if you don't mind!" Schwanz smiled like a politician. "Killing that root-corrupter, I have nothing but the utmost faith in you now!"
There was a small delay in a response. Frieren was too busy staring at his huge cock. Stark himself imagined his own cock in that position. He imagined it was him pulling out of Fern. It was white noise. A fantasy of the broken heart.
His dick twitched and he forced a smile. "Y-yeah. Thank you." Stark just shook the wet hand of the man that fucked his girl.
Schwanz gestured over his shoulder at Fern. "You and Fern, the two of you really do great work!" Was he shit talking? He certainly gave the tone of shit-talking.
"Yeah, we…get along."
They did. They used to. But after this…
"You're a lucky man! Trust me, I don't think I've had a girl drain my balls like her before!"
"R-right…"
"Talented women like that…they're a hell of an experience. A blessing even, heh."
Schwanz smirked. He wasn't openly talking shit, it was like he was comparing Stark to himself and nodding in approval, as though saying, "but I get a talented woman like Fern wanting to fuck different guys, even if they're not as hung as me" vibe.
Stark lived up to Schwanz's high standards in every way. Indeed, if he wished to, maybe he could fuck Fern afterward.
Maybe.
That maybe was all Stark was afforded here. He pocketed his hands after shaking the small-time lord's pussy-slicked hand and just watched Fern twitch and moan in the background.
********
CHAPTER 2 ON PATREON!
(Also, this was a commissioned work.)