Innkeeper's Daughter

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She's taken by surprise by an experienced sailor.
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Grayson leaned back in his chair, his boots hooked casually over the opposite seat in lieu of any company. In fact, his whole corner of the bar was rather vacant. He felt comfortable enough for that, with a huge serving of roasted meat at his elbow and a glass of wine settled down in his palm. It was a good inn, for all the reputation of the city’s quarter down by the docks.

The light was low, greasy smoke from the lanterns curling about the rafters above. In his quiet corner, the dimness and the wine were making a valiant attempt at putting Grayson to sleep. He rubbed his chin, a day or two’s growth of his beard spread there. He thought about shaving that very night- there would be precious little time in the morning- but it seemed too much effort. Besides, the next day he would be out on the sea again among men of the water, and shaved or not would matter very little.

He pulled a hunk of meat off the platter beside him, savoring the dark juices that rolled down his throat with it. Better fare than he’d had in weeks. The open waters were not conducive to fancy meals, unless one was a fan of fish. After thirteen years, Grayson wasn’t.

His boots were making small movements to get him on his feet again and to a room before he drank too much when the scream rang out. Grayson came to his feet with a cat-like grace despite the wine behind him. The innkeeper behind the counter was already scrabbling up the stairs to the second floor where the rooms were. Grayson took a quick look around and saw most men had gone back to their food or women already. He cursed and took a few quick strides towards the counter, grabbing the scribe that was tallying the night’s profits. The bartender was a big man, mostly around the middle, but if two men were to give him a problem, he’d awake with a good concussion and little else for his trouble.

“What’re you waiting for?” Grayson snapped, grabbing the small scribe by the collar and half dragging him over the counter.

The scribe yelped. “That old Bathemewl can handle ‘imself!”

Grayson tossed the man towards the stairs, coming up behind him just as quickly. “And if he doesn’t, you’re out of a job. Let’s go.”

When the two of them reached the second floor, the innkeeper was in action already. Seeing Grayson and the scribe, he paused with a fist pounding one of the room doors. “Ye here to help or to watch?”

A small, more strangled scream came from somewhere down the hall. The three of them took off down the hallway, forgetting the rest of the rooms. There must have been twenty or more along the deep hallway. Grayson cursed.

“You got more keys?” he asked. The innkeeper threw him another ring thick with them.

“Get to work.”

Together, with the scribe shivering a good ten feet away or more, they pounded the doors of each room. The ones that weren’t answered were forced open with the keys. Most were empty, but neither Grayson nor the innkeep were easily embarrassed when they weren’t. Grayson was at his fourth door, flipping through the keys for the number thirteen. He’d knocked harder on of the doors than he cared to think about, and his fist was starting to get sore. He found the key he was looking for and punched it into the lock, the tumblers rattling as they swung open for him.

As he grabbed the knob and threw it open, he nearly smacked the girl hovering near behind it. Grayson got brief glimpse of the girl: brown hair, almost light enough to be blonde with wet, full lips in a nearly transparent shift. He had to blink once to get himself away from the image when he heard the innkeeper yell.

Down the hall, the portly man had another man, a scraggly fellow by the looks of it and barley bigger than the scribe, by the ear. A whore behind him, her shift half torn off her shoulders and just held up by her huge breasts, smacked the man repeatedly with a fan. She shrieked obscenities.

“Easy, girl!” Bathemewl bellowed. “’E’s not coming in my place again.”

After a moment or two, the woman retreated to her room. The innkeeper came stumbling by Grayson with the offender still pulled up by the ear. “I hate these types,” he growled. “Ye got those keys I gave ye?”

Grayson nodded shortly, tossing the ring to him. He pulled the door behind him mostly closed.

“Good.” The man grunted, and then hit the trembling man beside him with a walloping blow. “Keep still! Hey, if ye need a place to stay tonight, consider one o’ me rooms open for a discount.”

“Thanks.”

The man nodded and dragged his package onward and down the stairs. The scribe, after a frightened look over his shoulder, escaped downwards after them.

Grayson nodded slowly to himself and then turned to look over his shoulder. The door still sat open barely a crack. Thoughts of the girl, her straight, defiant poise. Being out at sea for so long, trapped with men; it could do strange things to a man’s desires. He gently pushed the door open.

As if the door had been swung at her, the girl leapt back into the room, her arms clutched over her breasts. She seemed either to not notice or not mind the fact that her dark nether regions were just as nearly visible. Grayson slowly stepped in and closed the door behind him. “Ruckus like that among the rooms and you’re a lone woman here. Seems a bit strange.”

“I was meeting someone,” she snapped. “And they’ll be on their way any minute, so I suggest you find another room.”

Grayson grinned, the dark blue of her eyes flashing like sun off the deep sea. “I don’t think your lover’s coming, girl.” He slipped his overcoat off and tossed it onto a chair by the fire.

“He is.” She stared at him. Her body was as still and taut as a statue. He chuckled. “I doubt that.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“But I would. I’ll tell you why.” He slowly pulled off his shirt. His chest was dark as the rest of him with days of outdoor work on the water; muscles long ago built up to serve him over hours of hauling ropes and net. Grayson circled behind her, his low voice blowing heat over her neck as he spoke. “It’s late. Very late. No decent gentleman would be coming by this hour. He would have shown already if he was going to.” His hands ever so lightly slid along her waist down to her hips.

She shivered suddenly, her body giving way to it involuntarily. And as she did- a second’s drop of her guard- she felt her arms snatched up in his strong hands and pulled behind her back. She gasped, barely having time to think of struggling as he used his shirt to bind her wrists. “I’ll scream,” she threatened, her voice a wavering, breathy thing. “There’ll be no room for you then!”

He wanted to laugh a little. The room would be the least of his worries.

“I don’t think you will,” he said. The confidence was maddening. She twisted away from him when his fingers released the finished knots. He grabbed her arm with an iron grip and pulled her back. His mouth came down on her neck like a famished beast, his hand in her loose hair to hold her. The cloth chaffed at her wrists as she writhed against her bonds. Jerking from him was pointless; his strength far outweighed her own. His tongue flickered over delicate nerves in her neck. She trembled, hoping he thought it fear. His head rose and he nibbled on her ear.

“I’m the innkeeper’s daughter. He’ll have your balls if you touch me again!”

He grinned again, his hands running over her shoulders. “I’d much rather you have them.”

With a single-handed shove, she felt herself tumbling backwards. Her knees caught the edge of the mattress and she fell on to the bed. Her heart pounded in her chest; she hadn’t realized she was so close, and had expected to crack her skull on the floor. Grayson loomed over her. He let his eyes wander her body, the fine breasts and their darker nipples. His finger tips rolled over her hips on the outside and then slid startlingly inward. He never touched her though, tracing outside along her thighs. She could feel him through the thin shift almost as well as if she’d been naked.

Grayson came to his knees, his hand shoving her legs suddenly apart. She cried out softly, with fear and something else. The shift was slid up her legs and over her stomach. She felt paralyzed nearly, helpless to stop him. His mouth touched her thigh. At first, it was almost safe, just by her knee, and then the other. His rough facial hair rubbed her legs, tingling the skin and sending shivers through her body. He began to kiss upward along her legs. His lips led, his tongue, wet and warm, following and leaving trails along her legs. Both legs were covered equally, a tense shuddering in her belly growing stronger as he moved up her body. His rough hands wrapped around her legs, the hard callused skin feeling tough; a man’s skin. The hands slid up and down her calves as he kissed, massaging her.

She’d been touched that way before, once, when she was younger. It had been a soft woman’s hands then, a good friend’s. They had been shy with one another, experimental and scared. There was none of the security and strength like this man had in those hands. The girl had kissed her legs only to comfort her. It was her fingers that did all the work, sliding along the slippery wetness of her expectant pussy. The soft pads of her fingertips were much different, barely skimming her skin, leaving her with an embarrassing longing for harder, longer contact.

She closed her eyes as Grayson worked, wishing herself more appalled by the startling pleasure of his hands and mouth. His fingers worked the muscles of her legs, the calves first and then following up along the insides of her thighs. She grew taut again as his fingers moved up. The tension that had dissipated during his massage of her claves built up times ten. His fingers drew up against the muscles along her thighs and she inhaled sharply. He nudged her legs apart even further, with little resistance.

He grinned. “You like it,” he murmured.

“No…” She had little force to muster in protest. Her hands, though bound, had forgotten rebellion. She could feel the warmth of her own wetness building between her legs, knew he had a full view of it. The slick wetness emerging from between her lips was a strange feeling, almost discomfiting. He continued to massage her, his hands just along her crotch. His thumbs brushed her lips on either side. She trembled, wanting him to wipe away the moisture building up. That was all she wanted. Just a smooth wipe.

“Ah!” She inhaled sharply. He knew exactly her thoughts because the pad of his thumb suddenly slid between her lips and drew up swiftly. He ran over her clitoris, sending a thrilling shiver through her body.

He lifted the thumb to his mouth and sucked her juices off of it with a smile. “You taste wonderful.”

The blush that crawled into her cheeks and across her chest was scarlet.

She never expected it when he leaned in rubbed the same way with his tongue. It slid up along her lips on the outside at first. She could feel the pulsing desire in her center, where he refused to touch her again. His hands continued the taunting massage, rubbing her lips, and then trailing lower to circle her opening. A little gasp escaped her as he wet the tip of his finger in the very outer edge of her pussy and circled her again. His beard brushed by her legs, the heat of his tongue and breath drawing shivers and trembles out of her rebellious body.

Then suddenly, the flat width of his hot tongue covered her clit. He started low, almost to her shuddering opening, and pulled her skin along under his mouth all the way up to her hood. His mouth wasn’t even as wet as she, and all the rough texture of it rubbed at her and set her body seizing. He covered her, a hot shelter surrounding her clit, growing slippery as it stroked her with fiery licks. Her juices, she was sure, joining in with his saliva. She bit her cheeks, quivered all the more. His hands grabbed her hips and forced her hard against his mouth. She gave in and cried out.

It was a soft noise, nothing like the screams of earlier by the whore, but enough to get his attention. She opened her eyes at him, horrified by her submission. He chuckled softly, rising from his knees and grabbing a sash from the curtains. Gently, Grayson lifted her head and pulled the gag around her and between her teeth. He leaned in as her head touched down on the bed again. He whispered gently, licking in quick sweeps across her ear and neck between words.

“Don’t want anyone rushing in on us, hmm?” She thought of a man rushing in to her rescue with another deep flush of her cheeks. To have him see her as she was, bound across a bed and held wide open for the pleasure of his viewing. It obviously pleased Grayson; his crotch was a thick bulge beneath his leggings. He grinned, a deep husky breath brushing her cheek. “I’m glad you understand.”

His hand reached out and took one of her breasts in his hand, squeezing it gently. His thumb ran across her nipple, light enough to tease out of her a moan for more pressure. She didn’t want another soft touch experience, she realized. She wanted him rough with her, stern and never letting her escape. Another husky laugh rippled out from his chest.

He fell back to his knees in front of her before she could realize it, and licked the length of her again. She stiffened all over. His hands grabbed her hips and dragged her towards his mouth. Suddenly he was all over her, covering her clit completely with hard, fast licks. His fingers traced over her pussy again, wetter than ever and their small motions around her, refusing to penetrate, made her hips buck towards him. He moaned wolfishly at her movements, dragging her closer and sucking harder right over her clit. The vibrations of the moan set her into spasms along her legs and spine. She almost screamed. Then with swift slickness, one of his fingers drove into her pussy. The girl’s jaw clenched down on her gag, her back arching. He pushed into her with hard thrusts.

The tension in her belly moved lower. Her legs and whole lower body quivered, bucking against his mouth as he pressed his tongue against her. She was frantic against his movements. His free hand, once caressing her hip, suddenly slid up her stomach and grabbed a breast. She tried to gasp through the gag. His fingers gave her the pressure she’d begged for moments again, seizing her nipple and tugging on it. She cried out against her gag as he pleasured her in nearly every way her body had to offer: His hand forcing into her with a strength she’d never known and his mouth blazing feeling throughout her body. His hand moved from breast to breast, tugging at her nipples and twisting them until she gave sharp cries, each tingling remnant of pain mingling with sharp pleasure. Grayson felt himself incredibly hard as he pleasured her every center.

A slut, willing to come for me. He felt her knock up against his tongue again, rubbing insistently with her vigorous rhythm. His lips tightened around her clit, rubbing up and down either side of it. A muffled cry escaped her. He almost smiled. But what a slut.

Without warning, he rose, undoing his leggings and freeing his throbbing cock. Though panting with the sudden loss of the intense pleasure, she jerked her head up to watch him, eyes widening at the erect penis. He didn’t reach up to move her gag as she feared, instead testing her pussy with two fingers, sliding them in and out slowly. She let out a long, low groan, rocking forward with him. Then as they were removed, his cock came in their place. Deep in her belly, she groaned with the sensation of him filling her. She’d heard it hurt, but this was nothing like pain. There had been a twinge at first, and now… His member throbbed inside her, eliciting a spasmic contraction of her pussy along with it. Her breath came in rapid pants. She couldn’t control it; her body seized around his cock. He nearly gave to the pleasure and thrust back. Instead, he knelt still for a minute, their pounding bodies massaging each other. She opened her eyes to watch him, his closed eyes tightening every time she felt herself grab his hard cock. God, she was pleasuring him.

When at last he couldn’t stand it, he lunged forward, grabbing a breast. His mouth covered her other nipple, nibbling and sucking at it. His tongue flicked wildly. Her body was immersed in him, her tightening pussy clinging to him. He stroked into her in long, fluid thrusts. His thumb, already soaked by her juices, stroked her clit. His mouth moved to warm her other breast. Her body was wild with anticipation, quivering, and she barely moved as he pounded into her, his fingers never letting up on her swollen clit. Her hips rocked against him, reveling in her violation. She writhed, feeling his body stroke her, inside and out, again and again. Then, exploding.

The feeling rose up from her belly, grabbing her body, arching her into the air as she lay exposed to him, thrusting breasts and hips towards him. Her legs came up to wrap around him in a sudden squeeze. She let out a strangled cry from behind her gag, the sound muffled but not inaudible. He drew his cock in and out of her more slowly, his fingers rubbing over her clit still, easing her across her orgasm. She trembled once, and again, and then lay still under him, his fingers withdrawing from her. He let up the affection on her breasts, but his cock remained inside her pulsating pussy a few moments longer. She heard him grunt softly in satisfaction, and then felt him draw a tender, trembling finger along her cheek and jaw. She shivered.

Slowly, Grayson pulled in his loins and took a last regretful look at the wet, warm pussy in front of him. He tied up his leggings and slowly drew the shift down over the girl’s body. She lay limply beneath his gaze, her eyes closed and her head rolled to one side. Her breathing was long and deep. He lifted her head gently, removing the gag and tossing it to the floor. Soon to follow was his shirt, twisted and stretched from the knots he’d made around her wrists. Grayson lifted the girl gently, placing her in the bed lengthwise as it had been made to be used and pulled the covers up over her. She moaned softly all the while, seeming hardly conscious. He grinned again, collected his shirt, and made for the door. That offer of a room and sleep was a comforting thought.

“Sir,” called a soft, nearly unconscious voice. He turned suddenly, surprised. She hadn’t really moved, and her eyes were still closed.

“If you’re in the area again… M’father’s bar will surely be open to you.”

He bowed, though she didn’t open her eyes still. “Thank you, m’lady. You have yourself a wonderful night.”

The girl rolled over lazily and moaned a deep, contented sound.

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AnonymousAnonymousabout 19 years ago
very hot

this story captures the woman's pleasure exquisitely. And the guy, what a lover! I look forward to reading more from this author.

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