Offer to sample sausage in the smokehouse

"I don't have any money," you protest with a sly smile. "But I'm so very hungry. Why don't you show me the sausages in the smokehouse. I'd love to sample one of those."

The idiot bastard holds tight to your wrist and continues to glare at you. You make a gesture, moving your free hand to your mouth and repeatedly jabbing the tip of your tongue into the inside of your cheek. Olaf's eyes narrow.

"Oh, you thick shit," you roll your eyes. "Let's go out to the smokehouse and I'll suck your cock off."

The tavern falls suddenly quiet and your voice rings out with embarrassing loudness. Olaf's eyes go wide and he swings his head about searching for his plump wife. She bustles out of the kitchen after a few seconds with another tray of meat. Conversation resumes around the tavern. Olaf waits for his wife to leave before replying.

"Alright, you got a deal, but quiet. And you'd better do it right."

"I always do," you smile.

The smokehouse is crowded with dangling sausages and there is no electric light, so that when Olaf steps inside he appears to be a stocky abdomen and stout legs emerging from a dangling vineland of smoked meats. There is a small wooden bench and you sit down upon this as the barkeep takes down his pants and unceremoniously confronts you with his fleshy cock dangling from a dense thatch of brown pubic hair. It is warm in your hand. You skin it back to expose the pink head and put it in your mouth before you can have a second thought.

Olaf moans and rests his big hands on your shoulders. You cup and stroke his heavy testicles as your tongue and lips and other hand work his cock to full hardness. When it is stiff between your lips you begin steadily bobbing your soft lips up and down on his straining fuckstick. His cock is quite large - too big for you to deepthroat - so you make do with an exceptionally wet and loud sucking.

"Yes, sweet girl, taste Olaf's sausage," the dimwitted barkeep encourages. "Is good? Yes. You like. You like don't you, sweet girl?"

"Mmmhhhmmmmm," you reply, looking up at the dark shape hiding amidst the swaying sausages, your lips tight around his cock as you bob to the tip and lavish his sensitive cockhead with your swirling tongue. You pop your lips from his cockhead. "It's so big, Olaf."

He slides a hand up to the top of your head and guides you back to sucking him. You close your eyes and concentrate on getting him off. The savory scent of the smokehouse and the throbbing meat in your mouth triggers more and more saliva to ooze out down his shaft and drip from his testicles. You suck him faster, wincing each downward stroke as the head of his cock bulls against your tonsils. You can feel his spit-soaked bollocks tightening up beneath your fingers. You pop his cock from your mouth and dip down, face pressed against hairy thigh, your lips finding his tight bollocks as you suck each gently into your mouth.

When you return your lips to Olaf's cock you are greated with salty droplets of precum. You hasten your pace, sweat now gathering above your lip and streaming from your hairline in the hot smokehouse. The ridges of his cock seem carved from wood as your drag your lips across them again and again.

"Ahhhhh!" Olaf bellows and tangles your hair in his fingers. You slurp loudly on him, your lips bouncing down his shaft until his cockhead prods the back of your throat. As you slide back up you feel him twitch between your lips and you are immediately rewarded with a hot, gooey mouthful of Olaf's spunk.

You gamely swallow and continue to suck away at him, lowering your head once more as he gushes his thick seed straight against your tonsils. You resist the urge to gag and suck him until you've drained every drop from his cock. You lift your mouth from his softening prick and he quickly tucks his cock back into his trousers.

"Key and wine on bar," he says and departs. You take a moment to straighten up.

Worm rejoins you inside Olaf's as you fumble to hold your hard-earned wine and crisps as you fumble with the key. You pass these things off to the chaun and snap at him not to look at you. Once inside you practically collapse onto the bed. You pour a cup full of the sour red wine and munch away at the chips. You've only had a few bites when the weariness of the day begins to overwhelm you. And here you are still dressed. Worm looks at you expectantly.

You feel like going to sleep straight away, but maybe you should undress and relax a bit first. After all, it has been a very long day.