Celebrate!

A few hours later...

You lay on your back on the bar of the Herald's Rest tavern. Calpernia, the strikingly attractive Tevinter you'd recently liberated from Corypheus' control, sits astride your cock.

Sera stands to your side, playing bartender. She selects various bottles and brews, and upends them into your waiting mouth. Due to her erratic and frequent choices, you're already feeling rather drunk. Like most of the pub's remaining patrons, yourself included, Sera has since stripped off to her skin to better partake in the night's revelry and debauchery.

"Surprised you can enjoy Coryphishit's sloppy seconds so much." Sera notes with something of a sneer.

Even without ceasing your thrusts between the Tevinter's thighs, you turn to face Sera. The impetuous elf helps herself to a hearty swig of your booze.

"Yeah, you're right." You respond. "Maybe you should take her place."

"I'd rather fuck a Great Bear than you, Inky." Sera smirks. "Less hair, yeah?"

"Your loss." You remark. "Now give me another drink!"

Taking another mighty swig from the bottle, Sera holds the booze in her mouth, lowers her face over yours and spits it into your waiting mouth.

"I w-hic-wish I could drink everything like this." You hiccup, swallowing Sera's drink down.

"Might make drinking potions a bit of a pisser." Sera giggles.

"If I get much more powerful though, I'm gonna need a food taster." You joke. "There'd be more coin in it than your Red Jenny crap."

"Wow, I could be the personal chewer of some soft-dick lord?" Sera responds in mock amazement. "Maybe I could get a night job as your personal wiper?"

"Sera, I think if a woman were doing all that for me, I'd just marry her." You reply with a lecherous grin.

"Ugh. Thanks for making me wish Coryphepiss had won." Sera groans.

"I dunno," You cackle drunkenly. "Lady Sera Trevelyan. 'as a nice ring to it."

Wrinkling her nose in disgust, Sera brings the bottle down.

"I think it's time the baby had his bottle." She observes, sticking the neck of the bottle into your waiting mouth.

With your drinks being hand-served to you and a gorgeous, busty Tevinter girl writhing on your lap, you're not about to complain. Not that you could, with your mouth flooding with drink.

Shifting your head ever so slightly, you cast an eye over what's going on in the Herald's Rest.

Morrigan is celebrating the Inquisition's victory with the Iron Bull. The Qunari giant is sat in his usual chair, Morrigan happily servicing his mammoth grey prick. Krem, ever the loyal second in command, is beneath Morrigan. He's just as eagerly lapping at the witch's pussy.

Meanwhile, by the door Scout Harding has joined the bard, Maryden for a few drinks and a song. Currently, the cute dwarf has taken over Maryden's lute, and is doing a half-decent job of strumming out some music. You're not sure you've ever seen Harding out of her armor. It's a look you appreciate.