Page 13 of The Blacksmith in My Tavern: Tales of Bleakness

I’ve got a handful of plump ass and it’s like my hands are glued there. My dick goes from semi to full hardness in an instant. It does not help me revive my wits when I look down and notice how her tits are mashed up against my chest.

I’m fucking lost, staring at her plump flesh quiver under her unsteady breaths.

I tell myself not to. I tell myself I won’t—I shouldn’t. Remind myself that she is too young. And I’m too old. I’ve been married before. The catalog of reasons piles up high.

She slipped out the back of the tavern with three sailors last week. How the fuck am I supposed to compete with that?

None of this matters. My lips are lowering, my mouth slanting over her—just a little taste. I can stop anytime.

And then our lips touch. A small, needy whimper escapes her, followed by a deeper moan that shoots hot and urgent into my veins.So soft. So sweet.

She moans against me. Our lips part in synchronicity. My tongue slips along the seam before it delves in to taste her. Her arms slide around my neck, fingers tightening in my hair, tugging. I clench her ass, cleaving her to me with one hand and burying the other in her soft hair.

I heave a ragged breath as I further slant my mouth over hers and deepen the kiss.

I’ll stop in a minute. Just taunting myself with what can’t be mine.

My dick throbs, leaking pre-cum like it might be getting a look in.

It is not getting a fucking look in. I’m not rutting the lass. I’m not going to do anything to her.

I’m going to stop this kiss soon.

Only my hands are shaking. My whole body’s trembling. I think I might spontaneously climax from just this kiss.

She breaks the kiss first.

And I stand there, chest heaving, trying to work out what I did wrong, why she stopped.

Her face breaks into the sauciest grin before she slides her hand down my chest. Her sigh is one of contentment as she pauses to pet the muscles, her eyes hooded and deeply admiring.

Mine don’t know where the fuck to look. I’ve still got my hand on her ass, cupping it. I give it another little squeeze: plump and perfect. I imagine how it would jiggle while I pound into her from behind, just as her hands reach my belt.

Fuck! Think of something else.

She nibbles on her lower lip. “I need this,” she says.

I think she’s talking about the kiss that has ruined me. I’ve been dreaming about kissing here for so long. Now that I have sampled her lips and felt her body against mine, I’m doomed.

Then she surprises me by sinking to her knees, her small, nimble fingers on my buckle, undoing it with dexterous ease.

“Gods, lass! What are you?—”

All thoughts leave my brain as the buckle comes free with a clank. She tugs my pants down and liberates my cock.

“Oh!” she says, her eyes widening.

It looks fucking huge in her dainty little hands. I’m momentarily stunned.

“Gods. Fuck!” My brain is scrambled. I need to pull her off. I need to stop her. Before I can better think through my actions, I have fisted her hair—to pull her off before she….

“Oh, yes!” she moans. “Pull my hair just like that.”

I’m still reeling from her words when she lowers the weeping tip of my cock and swallows me down her throat.

“Betsy! Lass.” Pulling her off would be the right thing to do. I’m so fucking primed, I’m about to blow. Yet somehow, my hand tightens, and I’m pulling her deeper on. “Good girl.” My brain empties of all thoughts. There’s only the pleasure engulfing my cock as her hot, wet mouth caresses my length. My balls are already tightening. She does something with her tongue on the underside of the head that has me seeing stars. “I’m going to… Fuck!”

I come down her throat like a green fucking whelp. I’m a mature man with a grown son. She barely took me down her throat before I unleashed.

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