“It’s alright,” I panted. “I understand if you don’t want to—”
A moment after that, I gasped hard, then groaned as she straddled my hips, held my cock up, and bore down on my length. A brief burst of panic filled me at the sensation of being drawn into the warm wetness of her cunny.
My eyes went wide in the dark again, and I let out another sound of shock and pleasure as she started to bounce on me. It wasn’t a mouth or an ass, but it was friction, and in spite of the utter surprise of the moment, it felt good.
Maybe a little too good.
I let go of the pillow and fumbled in the dark to find Agnes’s wide, soft hips and to hold on as she rode me. I jerked my hips too, thrusting into her, completely blind to what I was doing. It felt good, that’s all that mattered.
It must have felt good for her too, because her cries were quick and pitched and definitely filled with pleasure. I let that feed me, gripping her hips harder and thrusting until I could feel myself about to come.
Agnes shifted to bring one hand between us. I could have sworn she wanted to grab my cock to finish bringing me off, but she didn’t. I couldn’t see what she was doing, but whatever it was, her arm and hand moved fast, her cries turned desperate, and within a minute, she was gasping and mewling, and the inside of her body seemed to grip my cock.
Whatever it was, my cock liked it, and I came. It was a sweet, pleasurable release, even though I was bewildered and confused. I pumped my hips into hers until my orgasm exhausted itself, spilling everything I had into her.
When it was over, I flopped back against the bed.
I didn’t know what to say. Agnes splayed over me for a minute. I was still sheathed inside of her, which quickly became awkward and embarrassing. I wanted to tell her to get off, to thank her for the unique experience—I hadn’t hated it, and I would have to do it again sometime—and then to roll over and sleep. Agnes didn’t seem ready to go anywhere for a moment, though.
I waited as long as I could, worried that Agnes had fallen asleep on top of me, before nudging her and saying, “Er, Agnes? That was nice, but could you get off now?”
Agnes hummed drowsily, then moved so that I slipped out of her. She didn’t get off the bed, though. Instead, she dropped to my side, snuggling against me and kissing my shoulder a few times.
A moment after that, she was asleep.
I had no idea what to do. The room was as dark as ever. I could see a faint flicker of light at the keyhole, but that was it. I was a little afraid to move and definitely afraid to call out. I didn’t know if this was ordinary for Agnes or if she would be in deep trouble with Larth and his wife if she was found in the bed of a guest who was just passing through. She hadn’t been with them for long, and I didn’t know if interfering with guests was something that might get her thrown out.
In the end, all I could do was let out a breath, relax, and close my eyes. I even slipped an arm around Agnes so that we lay in a position that was comfortable for both of us. And why not? It was a cold night in the mountains, and whatever gender her body was, it was warm.
I fell asleep fairly quickly and slept surprisingly well, even though I was in unfamiliar surroundings. I had a belly full of good food too. Something about the tiny mountain village was homey and welcoming. Whether I should have or not, I felt safe.
Part of me expected Agnes to be gone in the morning, but I was awakened at the first hint of dawn by her soft mouth exploring my chest and stomach. It took me a moment to realize that not only was she still in my bed, she was still randy.
Maybe it was because I was still half asleep and my morning wood was particularly pronounced from sleeping with another naked body, but I could already feel an orgasm brewing as my eyes opened.
I turned my head and met Agnes’s eyes in the scant light. She smiled at me, and ridiculously, that was all it took.
I rolled her to her back, giggling as I did. Agnes spread her legs and batted her eyelashes coyly at me. It didn’t take me long to find her damp opening and to thrust in. And while it most definitely wasn’t my preference, the saying about “any port in a storm” struck home as I braced myself and thrust repeatedly into her until I came.
It didn’t take long. I worried for half a second that I was doing something wrong, but Agnes didn’t seem to mind my ferocity. She gasped and panted, seeming to enjoy herself, and once I finished and rolled to the side, she slipped her hand between her legs and moved it vigorously until she let out a cry that made me think she’d come too.
“The other Sons aren’t going to believe this,” I laughed, collapsing to my side and staring at Agnes.
I expected her to say something, either to complain or to thank me, but she only giggled and looked at me bashfully. Just like the night before, I didn’t know what to do but to lay there as I caught my breath.
“Agnes?” The call came from somewhere downstairs. “Agnes, where are you, girl?”
Agnes gasped and sat bolt-upright.
“Agnes!” the call came again.
Agnes made a squealing sound, then scrambled out of my bed. She gathered up her clothes and dressed in record time, then dashed out of the room, slamming the door behind her accidentally.
And that was the end of that. I laughed and flopped to my stomach, shaking my head against the pillow. I wasn’t even a week into my journey, and already I had a story that would keep the Sons entertained—and probably teasing me—for weeks.
I snoozed for a bit, but was awaken by a knock on my door.
“Conrad Kettering?” Larth’s voice sounded from the hall. “Excuse me for waking you, but Wat has said he will take you on to Aktau, but he would like to leave within the hour.”