A lovely morning stroll

“So,” Tiras began as he closed the door to the Bow and Anchor behind him, his gaze fixed on Alazne as she closed the cloak around her while smiling cheekily at how a few passersby made sure to sneak a peak or two of her voluptuous form before it was obscured underneath the dark green fabric of Tiras’ cloak, “where should we go first?”

“How about back to my room?” Alazne didn’t miss a beat, meeting Tiras’ gaze and winking at him while her smile went from cheeky to unmistakably slutty.

“Alazne…” Tiras sighed, feigning frustration for a brief moment before chuckling at his new companion’s uninhibited enthusiasm and her increasingly seductive manner, the bottom of his right trouser leg rising upwards briefly from how his cock jerked and throbbed as he considered doing what she suggested and spending the rest of the day fucking her silly.

“Oh, alright,” A quick pout came over Alazne’s face before the naughty smile returned to it and she unleashed a cute little giggle, “I guess that as your guide I should show you Tharros’ most famous landmark… the Kettle.”

“Won’t it be more or less abandoned this time of day though?” Tiras asked, allowing Alazne to lean against them as they began to walk down the street at a leisurely pace, “It is still a few hours left till lunch, after all.”

“It’ll be less busy, but the Kettle’s never completely calm,” Alazne replied, cooing happily at being so close to Tiras’ large, muscular frame, “New ships dock in the port every hour of the day, each of them packed with randy sailors, and the caravans show up all through the day as well.”

“I see,” Tiras said, looking forwards to seeing the Kettle for the first time. The rumours about it had been one of the things that had drawn him to Tharros, after all.

“You’re some sort of soldier, aren’t you?” Alazne asked, looking up at Tiras and ignoring how people were ogling her as they went along, their eyes drawn to how her expansive chest was jiggling underneath the cloak. “I don’t mean to pry or anything, but I did notice your scars, and you do carry around that sword.”

“I guess,” Tiras replied, “Or at least I used to be.”

“And you’re not from Tharros.”

“No, I’m from Ezra originally, from beyond the Circassian mountains,” Tiras explained as Alazne and him stepped out onto a larger, more trafficked street.

“Aha,” Alazne bared her teeth in another sweet smile, “and are all men there tall, strong and handsome?”

“My dad and brothers were, I guess, though I couldn’t say about the handsome bit,” Tiras replied, “I was the short and pudgy one.”

“That certainly changed.”

“How about you?” Tiras asked, “Were you born here?”

“Uh-huh,” Alazne nodded her head, “mum was born here, and dad’s family came here when he was just a baby.”

“Where were they from, originally?”

“Zoracia. Dad’s parents decided that it was better to come to Tharros than to stay there. Not that anyone in my family’s rich or anything. Dad’s a cobbler, but at least that’s a lot better than being lorded over by some rich twerp. That’s how he puts it anyway.”

“So it wasn’t the daughter of some rich guy that I seduced? One who works as a waitress just for kicks?” Tiras asked.

“Afraid not!” Alazne replied, grinning at Tiras while shaking her head, her right hand slipping out through the front of her cloak to clutch his left one, “Though I do own a house, sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“It used to belong to my father’s older brother, Felath. He was the adventurous one in the family, and a lot older than dad. He was almost grownup when they came to Tharros, and became kind of like a mercenary or something. He ended up rich enough to buy himself a house right next to the Kettle, though when I was little my parents had the hardest time explaining to me why he choose to settle in that part of town.”

“What happened to him?”

“Well, when he was almost sixty, he decided to take one last job. He disappeared down in Dannalth, and we’ve never found out what happened to him. After he’d been missing for a year, his will was opened in accordance with his instructions, and it turns out he left his house to me.”

“You must have been his favourite niece.”

“I wouldn’t say I was his favourite, uncle Felath was very kind to all of us kids. He sponsored my oldest brother Ranul’s studies to become a healer, and he helped my other brother Ekain set up his bakery. Of course, when uncle Felath disappeared, I wasn’t old enough for him to have needed his help like that yet, so he left me his house. Anyway, that’s how I ended up with a house with barely any furniture in it.”

“Your uncle wasn’t that keen on furniture?” Tiras was slightly confused by what Alazne had just said.

“It’s not that, it’s just that uncle Felath had a going away party before he left for the last time. It was probably a fun party, because there wasn’t scarcely a table or chair left in it that wasn’t completely smashed. Someone even managed to completely destroy his bathtub!”

“He does sound a bit wild,” Tiras said with a smile.

“He was,” Alazne grinned happily, “I’m still hoping that he ended up the head of some clan down in Dannalth, and that he’s still too hung-over from celebrating that he hasn’t gotten round to letting us know he’s still alive!”

“Is that why you haven’t sold it yet?”

“Partly… I mean it would be pretty horrible if he did show up alive and I had to tell him that I’d sold his house. And then there’s the fact that I was never there all that much when I was little, the area round the Kettle isn’t really suitable for children, which meant it always seemed awfully exciting to me…”

Alazne and Tiras continued their conversation as she guided him through the southern portions of Tharros, the two of them walking through the hustle and bustle going on in the streets until Tiras could start to make out an old wall up ahead, which looked to be in fairly bad shape, enough so that it certainly wouldn’t serve as any sort of serious defence against any besiegers.

During the last few minutes, Alazne had been asking Tiras more about his past, but now that line of conversation died out as she instead let out a cheery “And here we are, the Kettle…”

For the last few hundred yards, Tiras had noticed more and more people of both genders walking around in skimpy clothing, but not even that had prepared him for the special environment of the Kettle. The first thing that he spotted upon alongside Alazne through the opening in the wall was a sailor seemingly being propositioned by two women on the side of the street, not far from the entrance to an establishment called “The stud and the slut” if the sign that hung over it was to be believed. Nothing strange in that, Tiras had seen similar scenes in just about every city that he’d visited during the last few years, but the two women’s appearance was definitely new to him. The one of them furthest away from Tiras, a blonde, was the one of them who was most conservatively dressed in a pair of stiletto-heels, black stockings and a matching thong which in turn was matched by the satin choker round her neck. Her dark-skinned friend, meanwhile, was wearing platform heels and a gold chain round her slim waist, and nothing else.

As he walked side by side with Alazne past the two whores, the dark-skinned one shifted her attention towards Tiras and parted her ruby-red lips, shooting him a toothy smile.

“Now tell me,” Alazne asked a few yards later, “are you still worried about my outfit?”

Facing Alazne’s cheeky smile, Tiras simply groaned and shook his head, at which she stopped instantly and, whilst standing in the middle of the street, undid the cloak and pulled it off her shoulder in a move that had her huge knockers swaying and jiggling, which in turn caused everyone within sight of her to turn their eyes towards them. Pretending to be unaware of the horny looks that she was drawing, Alazne proceeded to fold the cloak over her left arm and hand it back to Tiras, who accepted it with a dumb grin.

“Now if only I could think of some way in which to get you out of these pants, and we’d make quite a couple…” Alazne purred, running her left hand up over her chest, tracing the shape of her bulging tits with it while her right hand did the same with Tiras’ cock until she was bending forwards slightly to allow her fingers to brush over the thick shape of his cockhead, the raised border of which she was able to make out through the fabric of his pants.

“I can’t believe I’m acting like this,” Alazne continued on, her cheeks sporting just a hint of redness as she peeked up to meet Tiras’ gaze.

“YOU can’t believe it?” Tiras’ rhetorical question prompted Alazne to giggle.

“It’s your fault, anyway,” Alazne shot back as the two of them remained standing still in the middle of the street, her voice low and seductive as she added “You’re the one who went and gave me these…”

To emphasize what she was referring to, Alazne snuck her hands in under her boobs and lifted the two massive, flawlessly shaped orbs upwards, their tanned skin glistening in the sunlight while Tiras was severely tempted to bury his face between them.

“And this…” Before Tiras could act on his instincts however, Alazne had spun around and was now smiling at him past her shoulder while digging her fingers into the firm flesh of her buttocks.

“I got an idea for where you could guide me next,” Tiras said, being able to feel at the same time how his cock had begun to throb inside his trousers.

“Where?” Alazne asked while leaning forwards a little to push her ass closer towards Tiras.

“Your uncle’s house,” Tiras replied, while not really being conscious of how his right hand had moved down to the front of his trousers.