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Leefstyl | Lifestyle > Hygliteratuur | Erotic literature > Straight > Fiksie | Fiction

The serving girl(s)


Oils - 2011-08-24

Untitled Document

Hierdie blad bevat erotiese literatuur. Indien jy jonger as 18 is, verlaat die blad asseblief onmiddellik. | The following page contains erotic literature. If you are under the age of 18, please exit this page immediately.


“It happened on a dark and rainy night in a tavern almost like this one.”

I paused and surveyed the public room. All the travellers had their attention focused on me. I continued.

“I was on the road for almost three days without seeing a soul. It was raining torrents for the last day and a half and my cloak and clothes were soaked right through. My steed was tired and in need of a warm stable and decent feed, not the faded dry yellow grass of that forsaken place. The inn appeared as I rounded a corner after crossing a bridge weakened by the water pushing against the pillars. I almost didn’t make it, as my horse was nervous and scared of this rickety construction.”

I took a sip from my ale. The room was silent, except for the crackling of the fire. Even the tavern owner and chef were quiet, not shouting orders and abuse at the serving wenches.

“I stabled my horse and gave the little boy a coin to rub my horse down and feed it properly. I stumbled through the puddles to the inn’s door. As I entered, all conversation stopped. I must have been a sorry sight. Drenched to the bone and spattered with mud from my travels. I shook my cloak out and put it on a peg next to the door. There was an open table in the corner. As I sat down the serving girl approached me. Bushy and wild red hair, a more than ample bosom and curves in all the right places. Not fat and certainly not thin, just right. I looked up and met her eyes. They were the colour of ice, a translucent light blue. Even though I was cold, wet and miserable, I felt a stirring in my loins.”

The room was wrapped in anticipation as I paused again. The best audience I’d had in a long while.

“‘What will you have sir?’ she asked me almost as if she was afraid of me. I ordered mead and the house special, black bread and mutton stew. As I passed her a copper for payment, my fingers lightly touched her hand. There was an almost audible crack as a spark passed between us. Impossible. The air is wet and humid and not dry. Her hand lingered and she gave me a direct look. Her eyes lit up and she smiled. What a beauty! My loins stirred again, making me shift uncomfortably. She turned around and walked almost regally back to the kitchens.

“As I waited I tried to understand what had happened. I never had trouble getting women and even young girls to warm my bed on the rare occasion that I do happen to stop at a village, town or inn on my travels.

“As she returned and put the food on the table, she bent down and I had a very nice view of her cleavage. Her bodice allowed me just a hint of a small and rosy nipple. My head started spinning.

“‘Will you take a room, sir?’ she asked.

“I said yes and that I would also like hot water for a bath.

“‘Anything else?’ she asked, giving me a knowing look. My loins were shouting at me and I told her to meet me after I had eaten. I paid for my meal and dug in.”

I paused and took a sip. “Girl, a refill please,” I said to one of the nearby wenches. “Don’t worry, I won’t continue until you return …

“As I entered my room I noticed the steaming tub. I stripped off my wet clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor. I lowered myself in the hot water, savouring the smell of the lavender twigs floating in the water. There was a knock on the door and the serving girl entered with fresh towels and a mug of hot cider. She came over to the tub, handed me the cider and started soaping a small brush. As I was sipping on the cider, she started washing my back and shoulders. Her hands lingered on some of my scars, tracing the hard ridges. As she started on my front I reached up and undid her bodice, revealing her breasts. Although big and full, her breasts did not sag. The nipples were small, round, rosy buds on proud and firm mounds. As I touched her nipples, I heard a sharp intake of breath as they hardened to my touch. Her hands paused on my body. I pulled her down toward me and started kissing the rosy buds. Her hands moved down from my chest to my stomach and on to my manhood. It was as hard as steel as she lightly touched it, rimming the head with her hand.”

I paused, took a sip from my jug, surveying my captive audience, noticing the soldiers off to one corner at the back of the room. I bowed my head towards them, saluting with a slight touch of my fingers to my forehead.

“I stood up, taking the girl in my arms, kissing her on the mouth. She tasted like honey and smelled of spring blooms in a long-forgotten valley. One of her hands was slowly moving up and down my shaft. Her touch light but firm. I undid the string in her skirt, dropping it to the floor. I pushed her drawers down and she stepped out of them. My hands played over her breasts. My whole body was tense like a loaded crossbow, waiting in anticipation for what was to come. I moved one hand down and touched her womanhood. It was clean shaven! This was practised only by some of the elite in the ruling class and healers in the country I was in at the time. It is said that healers have second sight and can foretell the future.

“She was wet and I started playing with the bud at the top of her cleft. Kissing her nipples I started moving us toward the bed. Her breath came in short gasps and her grip on my manhood became much firmer, the movement more urgent. I laid her down on the bed. First kissing her stomach, I slowly made my way down to her womanhood. I could smell her. It was like the fresh smell of the ocean on a morning breeze. This was certainly no ordinary or common serving girl. My lust was overruling my brain and I was thinking about only one thing. I kissed her clitoris, teasing her. She twisted her hips, pushing her pussy up in my face, making soft moaning sounds. Her hands were in my hair, pulling, twisting. I tasted her, inserting my tongue in her, playing, teasing.”

Not a soul stirred in the room.

“She pulled me by my hair, upwards, spreading her legs. As I mounted her, slowly pushing my stiff rod into her well of hot and molten love, it was as if her face transformed. She appeared younger, her hair fanning out around her face on the pillow. Slow and deliberately I started to ride her. I had to change my position as she lifted her legs and hooked them over my shoulders. I was riding her deep and hard and her moans got louder. Her pussy was tight around my shaft and I was experiencing something I hadn’t for a long time. I kissed her face, her neck, her perfect ears.

“Without pulling out, I put my hands under her buttocks and turned over. Now she was riding me, wildly up and down. Hair flying in all directions around her head. My hands were on her nipples, breasts and stomach. I caressed the small of her back, moving up to meet her rhythm.

“With an almighty shout she climaxed and collapsed on my chest. Slowly moving her lower body in small circles while kissing me, she brought me to climax. My seed erupted like a volcano into her.

“Sated, we stayed like that for a while, just caressing each other.

“After a while I was getting hard again. As she felt my cock swelling inside her, she sat upright and looked me straight in the eyes. ‘I know who you are,’ she said to me, slowly starting to ride me again. We did it a couple of more times that night.

“In the morning, as I was counting out the normal amount of money to pay her, she stopped me. ‘Put your money back in your purse, it is no good to me. I know who you are,’ she said to me. I asked her what she meant by it, but she just smiled, turned and left the room.

“Needless to say, I spent another night at the inn in her company, making wild passionate love. The next morning when I woke, she was gone. Nobody at the inn could help me, so I saddled my horse and moved on. And that is the story, my friends.”

The crowd applauded me and a serving wench started filling mugs. I caught the eye of a girl I had noticed earlier. The inn-keeper was passing a hat around and I heard the sound of coins, a profitable evening for me. With a slight nod she acknowledged my unspoken request. My bed will be warm again tonight. Who said you have to hide when running from the law? I moved around in plain sight, telling stories to support myself. I looked at the girl again. Sweet, my blade will taste blood again tonight and she will also vanish, like the healer. I couldn’t let her expose me and she definitely could not see her future.

My loins started to stir in anticipation as I ignored the soldiers in the far corner looking at me.