Lace Harding's Slutty Adventure

This is set in a Non-Canon Universe. There are also some changes to the romantic preferences of characters.

The Inquisition had defeated Corypheus a little over two years ago. And since then the Inquisition had been running around exploring and continuing to grow. Then Ferelden, Orlais, and the Chantry called a meeting, of the Exalted Council, cause they were threatened by the Inquisition. The meeting did not go the way that it was expected to and Qunari showed up through the magic Eluvian mirrors. After stopping the threat of the Qunari the Inquisitor came face to face with their old friend and ally, Solas. There Solas revealed that he was Fen’Harel and was planning to tear down the Veil to return the elves to what they once were. The Inquisitor was able to talk Solas out of this idea and Solas joined them again. In the end the Inquisition's trial was put on pause and they were told to stop recruiting and exploring and wait for the nations and the Chantry to come a decision.

Lace Harding had always been a bit of a flirt. She often would find a new recruit of the Inquisition and take them for a tumble in the stables. Walking around with their cum on her face or giving them her damp panties as a parting gift. But it had been getting worse cause she was bored.

She had been the top scout of the Inquisition and had loved all of the exploration. And yet here she was sitting in the Herald's Rest flirting with a young elven scout. This normally would have been enough for her and she would have already grabbed him by the belt, but this time it wasn't. He just stared at her perky tits, hardly covered by her low cut shirt. She wasn't turned on at all. He on the other hand already had a boner and was leaning back in a manner that she knew all too well.

"What the hell," she said, pulling her red hair back into a loose bun, before kneeling down in front of him.

Sex was not at all uncommon for the people at Skyhold. In fact that might have been one of the reasons that so many people had lined up to join the inquisition after Corypheus was defeated. There were constantly people making out, groping, and even the occasional orgy in the grand hall. Visitors from all over came to watch, fuck, and get fucked. In fact strategy meetings were more sex than meeting. With Cullen always being willing to go down and Leliana and Morrigan being happy to put his mouth to good use.

Lace pulled out the recruit's cock, a solid six inches. Pale, like the rest of him, with a neat thatch of dark hair at the base. The head was flushed a deep pink, beading with a single, clear droplet of precum. Standard issue, her mind supplied, unimpressed.

She wrapped her fingers around the base, feeling the jump of his pulse against her palm. It was hot. Always so hot. She gave a slow, experimental stroke, watching his stomach muscles clench.

“Andraste’s mercy,” he breathed, his head thumping back against the wall.

She leaned in letting her warm breath make him shiver and his cock twitch. She did enjoy watching men squirm when she toyed with them. Though after a few weeks of being trapped at Skyhold even that enjoyment was starting to fade.

She opened her mouth and began to lick the head of his cock. The elven recruit moaned and started to twitch his legs. "Must be a virgin, or at least pretty new to this," she thought.

She swirled her tongue around the flared ridge, lapping at the slit, and at the precum. A low groan rumbled from recruit's chest. One of his hands came down, trembling, to tangle in her loose red hair.

It was all part of the song and dance as she sank down, taking him deeper, feeling the smooth, velvety skin slide over her tongue. She hollowed her cheeks, creating a tight, wet suction that made his hips jerk. Easy, she thought, and placed a steadying hand on his thigh. He stilled, trembling.

She established a rhythm. Slow, deep descents, until the head nudged the back of her throat. She relaxed, allowing him a little farther, feeling the faint, thrilling strain of her own limits. Then a slow, dragging retreat, her lips sealed tight, her tongue pressing firmly along the sensitive underside.

In. Out. The world narrowed to this: the wet, slick sounds, the scrape of his pubic hair against her nose, the increasing tightness of his fingers in her hair, the raw, pleading noises he was making above her.

It was still all so boring for her.

His hips stuttered against her hand, a frantic, unrhythmic pulse. Lace felt it, the telltale thickening, the vein beneath her thumb becoming a rigid cord, the way his entire body went still for one perfect second.

"Oh, here it comes", she thought, her mind already drifting to the taste of stale ale on her own tongue.

He came hard into her mouth. The hot liquid spurt hitting the back of her throat. She swallowed reflexively, the action practiced and smooth. But he wasn't done. A second, thicker pulse followed, coating her tongue this time.

She watched through half-lidded eyes as his mouth went slack and a low, guttural groan tore from his chest. His fingers, still tangled in her hair, spasmed, pulling slightly. She could feel the frantic kick of his cock against her palate, the way his thighs trembled violently under her steadying hand. She kept her mouth sealed tight around his cock. Continuing to suck gently as he continued to throb and cum.

Finally his body slumped against the wall, completely spent, a sheen of sweat glistening on his pale chest.

Lace slowly pulled back her lips closed and mouth full of his cum. She made a show of it, letting him watch as she held it smiling at him. Then, with deliberate slowness, she tilted her head back and swallowed. She let out a soft, breathy sigh for his benefit, running the tip of her tongue over her upper lip to catch a stray droplet.

“Sweet Andraste,” he gasped.

“Shhh,” she murmured, her voice a husky purr. She gave his softening cock one last, affectionate stroke before tucking him carefully back into his trousers.

She rose to her feet, her knees popping softly. He stared up at her, his expression a mix of awe, and embarrassment. A faint blush crept from his chest all the way to the tips of his pointed ears.

Lace smiled, a practiced, warm curve of her lips. She leaned down, placing a soft, chaste kiss on his damp forehead. “You taste good,” she whispered, a lie that felt like silk.

He shuddered, another aftershock rolling through him. Straightening, she adjusted her own shirt, her mind already elsewhere. The taste of him was still there, lingering. Salty. Bitter. Boring. She needed something more.

Looking around she saw that there were more than enough new recruits to fill her mouth with cum all night long, but what she wanted was much more than that. Finally she decided to leave the Herald's Rest and find the Inquisitor.