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Very Good Wench

A casual day of Charlene, а young girl who works as a tavern wench
Very Good Wench

Greetings everyone, my name is Charlene, and I work at the Eagle’s Nest Tavern. It’s a small but cozy establishment in a neighboring village that is fortunate enough to be located next to the Reinhaven River. Although it is an ordinary tavern, the village itself is at the crossroads of trade caravans and travelers, so people who stay with us have extra money.

The elders even say that if this continues, our village will soon grow to the size of a small provincial city. I am at the same time a cook, a cleaner, a server, and in general, I must make sure that the customers leave the inn satisfied, and despite my young age, I confess that rarely do I fail in my duties, and even more rarely it is my fault.

Most of the customers come here in the morning and evening. Most of them are locals who have breakfast and dinner here, but the main income of the inn comes from travelers who stay here for the night. It was already evening, so the people began to gather: some were sitting and having dinner, two men were engaged in arm wrestling under the general hooting to find out which of them was stronger, a bard was telling stories, uncomplicated but cheerful music was playing, making the visitors feel cozy.

Suddenly the front door opened and he walked in, and he smiled as he met my gaze, and I knew at once that I would have more work to do today, as well as more profit. Some of the men looked at me with appraising, some of the women with judgmental, some whispered “slut,” but it rarely came to anything but verbal abuse: Our formidable Brennar, a retired soldier who now served as a handyman and bouncer, was always ready to throw out anyone who became too rowdy and unpolite with me.

As I said, our settlement is small, so rumors spread quickly. The rumor that the main income of a young maid working in the tavern would be to satisfy the lust of men willing to pay for it spread like wildfire. I knew this when I came to work here, but I had little choice but to accept the fact that my seriously ill father would soon meet death, or to try to earn the amount of money the healer needed for his treatment. I think you understand now what I chose. And you know what the most frustrating part is? If you spread your legs in front of a miller, a blacksmith, or a stable boy, everything is fine, nobody will say any bad word, except for their wives, but if God forbids you to sleep with a rich merchant, lucky adventurer or the son of a nobleman, you automatically become a whore and a slut, especially if he ordered you for the whole night, which no one from the locals can afford. I don’t know whether it was jealousy or the fact that someone would be left without a juicy girl’s body tonight… Of course, there are enough pretty young girls in the village, and mature women are not bad, but I have to admit that for some reason it is much easier for many men to pay me, rather than try to seduce someone.

-What would you like, sir? – I ask the new visitor

-The usual for me, Charlene. – He replies, and I nod facing the judgmental looks from the other diners.

The usual means a hot roast with liquid cheese and seven-year-old Greenwald wine and the best room available for the night. On top of that, I’ll put on that fancy dress and lingerie he gave me on my first visit here and show up in his room. I felt a little nippy’d always been excited in Master Arvin’s company, and I’d never felt as dirty as I did under his gaze.

It took me a while to get everything ready, and I served it to Master, but I didn’t ask for payment and knew he’d pay for every last dime when the time came.

-Thank you, Charlene. I’ll come up when I’ve finished my meal. – He replied, and I went upstairs to prepare for the most mentally and physically demanding but most rewarding part of my job.

-If you don’t study, when you grow up you’ll be making a living like Charlene. – some dorky guy is telling his kids.

-“I wonder what her dead mother would have said about all this? – another older man’s voice.

-She’s a whore! I bet she wants to bear his bastard child! -I heard disgruntled voices, the last one, a woman’s, that made me wince briefly. This is not the sort of thing you can get used to. The words belonged to Annette, the local witch doctor’s wife, an obese woman who looked to be my mother’s age. The most frustrating thing about it was that she’d worked as an innkeeper’s wench in her day, doing the same that I do now until she’d found her future husband.

However, I forced myself to disconnect from what was happening and, going up to one of the rooms, began to prepare for the coming night, getting naked and washing myself from the dirt of this tavern in a barrel of water, looking at myself in the mirror, remembering the words of the master that I look like a goddess of love. And I’ll tell you, I understood why many men looked at me like that. For what it’s worth, I looked very attractive in my seventeen: high beautiful breasts, wasp waist, juicy butt, tough hips, thin graceful features, bronze skin, brown eyes, and thick brown hair. I had a lot of Southern blood in me, so by the standards of the locals I had a very unusual appearance that stood out against the pallor of the local women.

The outfit that Master Arvin had given me was custom-made and perfectly emphasized my figure. When everything was ready, I sat down on the bed, thinking about this night and many nights to come, about Master Arvin, the few pleasant things about my work, about my father. Would he live to see the day when I had raised enough money for treatment?

I could hear footsteps on the stairs, and it sounded like a medium-sized man, I could guess who my client was, but I was always worried at times like this, assuming that some local dork would show up and start hurling insults, or even rape me. Gathering my thoughts, I got up from the bed and turned toward the door as the knob turned. It’s Master Arvin, after all. He smiles tiredly, and I return the favor.

-Are you all right, Charlene? You look worried. – He asked as if my recent worries hadn’t escaped him.

-It’s okay, Master, we can begin. – I answered him softly, and then Arvin came up and began to enjoy my body, pulling against him and kissing me.

He always had a long kiss at the beginning. When I first put on the suit, I thought the side slit to mid-thigh and the deep neckline on my chest was to show off my figure, but it turned out to be more than that: the man’s right hand slid gently but masterfully through the slit on my thigh, squeezing my buttocks, while his left hand played with my breasts just as masterfully. Some customers liked me to undress in front of them, but Master Arvin preferred to rid me of my clothes by himself. At one point he briefly broke away from the caresses, taking my hand and sliding it into his pants, urging me on. His cock was already hard and growing in size, I could feel it pressing against me through my pants.

The man kissed me greedily, biting my lips and pushing his tongue into my mouth, at some point he started undoing the ties on my dress and I started doing the same with the buttons on his jacket. Soon the dress, which no longer held anything, simply fell to the bed, and my body was covered only by the lace lingerie that had been given to me along with this delightful outfit.

Master’s hands squeezed my bodice-clad breasts while I pulled him free of his shirt, revealing my master’s powerful arms and muscular torso. This was the body of a traveler, or maybe a warrior, which I couldn’t say about the other noble gentlemen I’d slept with. His hands undid my bodice, which had come off, revealing my rounded breasts. He gently fell to them, kissing and caressing with his tongue first one and then the other, holding me by the waist with one hand, and with the other he was already working in my panties, where it was hot and wet.

The Master was one of the few people who was a pleasure to serve. He was built like an athlete, always well groomed, and he didn’t smell tobacco smoke, manure, and unwashed clothes. Soon, when we were stripped of the rest of our clothes, I got on my knees and took his cock in my mouth, actively working it with my tongue. The man held my hair back so it wouldn’t fall in my eyes, and I sucked hard on his cock, which quickly became hard as a rock.

-That’s enough, Charlene, I’m ready. – He said softly, and then I stopped sucking, and he lifted me in his arms and laid me on the bed.

It took him a while to get his cock in place, and then he slowly plunged his full length into me, causing me to gasp audibly. The man froze, looking at me, but I nodded in satisfaction and he began to move, at first slowly and with a small amplitude, gradually increasing it. His cock was large, on the verge of being painful, so he tried not to spread out too much at first, so as not to hurt me too much. I was now lying completely naked with my legs spread wide, clutching the sheet in my fists, and the man lying on top of me was kissing me on the lips, moving his pelvis vigorously.

From time to time moans came from my lips, sometimes from the pain when the master thrust especially deep, sometimes from the fact that I knew that the master liked them, as well as many other men. When I got used to the fullness of my vagina, I began to thrust up and down, moving my pelvis towards him. Master loved it when I did that, it got him excited and he started moving even faster. I knew that the man would not rest until he enjoyed me as much as he could, so I did my best.

At some point, I felt his cock begin to swell, and knowing what would follow, I moaned even more passionately and thrust even more vigorously, bringing the orgasm closer: my master moaned as if lifting a huge weight, and then I first began to feel the long familiar pleasant throbbing of a man’s cock deep in me, and then the equally familiar spreading warmth inside, a clear proof that I am a very good tavern wench.

At such moments I always had mixed feelings: on the one hand,  pride at having given someone such great pleasure, on the other, shame at being used as a thing to satisfy lust, and, finally, fear of being knocked up, few of the men worried about what would happen afterward, believing that a whore’s problems after she got the money were her problems, and Arvin even said that he would even be glad if I gave birth to a bastard of him.

We lay there exhausted for a while, catching our breath, and then we started kissing. We washed up a little using the water from the barrel, and then the master continued his fun: now he was lying on the bed, his cock like a stake, and I knew without further ado what was required of me: I sat on top of him and began to move, slowly and leisurely at first, leaning back a little, as Arvin liked. He’d always told me that I was especially good in this position, and told me a couple of secrets that I was using now to give him more pleasure.

The cowgirl position was much more tiring, but the master helped me by lifting my body with his strong arms, after which I impaled myself on his cock with my weight and so many times. When I did this, I made wavy movements with my belly like an oriental dancer, and also breathed specially, inhaling and exhaling deeply, further emphasizing the advantages of my figure, and the sounds of my moans became even more languid. Master scooped up oil from a pot on the nightstand and then smeared it on my body, which became slippery and started glittering in the dim candlelight. His hands slid over my belly, my waist, and my breasts. He squeezed my breasts hard, so hard that my knuckles turned white, but I felt no pain because they slipped out of his hands. When I began to tire, the master’s cock swelled again, and I, encouraged by this, began to move on it more vigorously, bringing the man to another orgasm, and then I impaled myself as deep as I could on his cock, feeling every pulsation of his cock while it was plotting new portions of semen into me.

After that, I lay down next to him and we talked about everything and nothing for a while. He kissed me periodically on the lips, then on the neck, then down to my breasts. I realized that it was nighttime, and all the customers had gone home, only Brenner was left in the tavern as a watchman, though he was probably napping. I would have liked to sleep too, but as I felt Master Arvin’s cock coming to life, I realized that my work for the day wasn’t done.

-Charlene, I want to try a pose I learned while traveling through the South. – he replied.

I suspected what the gentleman would want and after a brief description I was fully convinced that I was right: I was required to get on all fours, spread my legs wide, arch my back downwards, and my ass upwards. I had never practiced it myself before, but I had heard about it. It was not as tiring as being on top, but many women considered it vulgar and degrading: in the South, it was what masters used when they raped their slaves, thus equating them to animals. On the other hand, it provided the deepest penetration and allowed caresses not available in the other positions common here. I agreed, obediently doing everything the client told me to do, and got on all fours, spreading my legs wide and waiting for his cock.

-Are you ready? – asked the master.

-Yes… – I said a little unsure. The master’s cock was large, and I was worried that in this position I would be very painful. He must have understood my concern, so he added:

-Don’t worry, we’ll start gently. – He said as he plunged his cock into me.

It felt different, and I had mixed feelings about her. Looking at the reflection of us in the mirror on the wall, I imagined myself as a savage woman from a barbarian tribe my mother had told me about as a child. Master Arvin became more and more active, slamming his cock into me, and I, in turn, began to move toward him, trying to get his cock as deeply as possible. The bed beneath us creaked rhythmically, and the man’s balls hit my clitoris with a characteristic pop. Judging by the sound and my sensations, there was still a lot of sperm in them, and I knew perfectly well that the man would not let me go until all of it, to the last drop, had poured inside me, so the best thing I could do was to help make it happen sooner. Remembering what else I’d heard about this position, I reached back and began to stimulate them, determined to enhance Arvin’s next orgasm. The master froze for a while, but when he realized what I was doing he hummed with satisfaction and continued to fuck me, not caring about any tenderness, coming out of me and then slamming his cock into my body.

All this was accompanied by my diligent moaning, I teased him by overexciting him and then slowing down so that he didn’t cum too soon, but as soon as my master started to get bored, I continued to wiggle him, playing with his balls and moaning like a whore. My master quickly realized what I wanted and approved of this game, then acted gently, then came out of me completely,  and then drove his cock up to balls, which gradually swelled and grew heavier, letting me know that my idea had every chance of success. Anyway, it couldn’t go on like this forever: Master Arvin finally started cumming with a long, loud groan, filling me with warm and thick semen, which this time was so much that when he pulled out his cock, it was still flowing down the inside of my thighs and I couldn’t wipe it all off for a long time. It looked like he had loaded every last drop inside me, just like I wanted, and he was very happy about it.

-Charlene, you’re a very good wench. – said Master, catching his breath and starting to clean himself up.

I thought ironically that in this he is no different from any other man: if you can feel his cum inside, you’re very good, and I wistfully remembered the times when I’d been a very bad one. I hope someday they’ll come again. He found his wallet and paid me in gold for all my services, leaving a generous tip.

-Thank you, Master Arvin, come again whenever you wish, I will be happy to serve you. – I told him, smiling.

– Of course, I’ll come, and it’s thanks to you, you’re as gorgeous as ever. – He replied, and then went to bed and fell asleep, while I went to the barrel and began to clean myself, washing off the sperm and the filth of the inn in particular and the world in general. Sometimes, however, it seemed to me that the water of all the oceans would not be enough for that…

 

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