Rogue accepts the forfeit

ROGUE, laughing nervously, tucking her hair behind her ear: ...I-uh. Maybe... I could? I mean, someone's gotta take one for the team, right?

BARD: That's... not how this works at all.

ROGUE: I’m not volunteering! Just... s- saying. It’s not like I mind helping the party.

BARD: This is not a team-thing, stop saying it's a team-thing.

ROGUE, flustered: It’s just- this whole stupid rule- you guys keep peeking at my-

BARD smirks: Ohhh, I see what's going on.

SORCERER, clueless: What is going on?

ROGUE: Stop smiling like that!

The tension at the table thickened as there was a pause of conversation. The bard smiled knowingly at the Rogue, the DM shared a clued-in grin with the Bard, the Sorcerer looked around confused, and the Rogue looked like she was about to melt into her chair. Then, with a small huff and a crooked smile, she broke the silence.

ROGUE: Fine. Maybe I am a little curious, alright? Happy now? I want my clothes back, I'm getting cold. Shut up everyone.

The Bard and DM exchanged looks of surprise and amusement as the Rogue took a deep breath, then quietly slipped under the table. The Sorcerer straightened in his chair, trying not to look too triumphant. For a few long moments, the only sound was the shuffle of knees against the rug and a few anticipatory chuckles from around the room. Beneath the table the Rogue’s hands, hesitant at first, brushed against the Sorcerer’s bare legs. Her breath caught, audible in the hushed quiet, before she positioned herself and pushed the Sorcerer’s thighs apart. His taut shaft loomed ahead, poking out from beneath his draped shirt. “J- just talk amongst yourselves okay? Or play some music or whatever.” The DM swapped the ambient track over to the Romance playlist, starting with ”Yes, I do…” from The Witcher 3. It was either that, or the dragon combat playlist. An annoyed groan could be heard underneath the table.

Her heart pounding, the tension was electric as the Rogue steadied herself and approached, her trembling fingers reaching out to grip the base of the erect pole and angling it towards her. Finally, she took the plunge, opened her mouth and imbibed the throbbing phallus. Nobody dared comment too directly, though all eyes drifted towards the table’s edge, where a bob of cropped dark hair moved rhythmically in the Sorcerer’s lap. Now and again a soft sound escaped her - wet suction and the subtle parting of lips, followed by a nearly imperceptible moaning hum. The Sorcerer’s breath hitched audibly, and he draped a hand over the back of her head to guide her thrusts even as he sunk back into his chair and rolled his eyes back. The Bard quietly lowered her phone below the table, catching snaps of the Rogue mid-deepthroat, her features blazing with an unmistakable blush. There was a shudder, a satisfied moan, and the Rogue’s head retreated from her meal-partner’s lap, descending back below the table. From her vantage-point the Bard caught a glimpse of the Sorcerer’s cock, glistening and slick with saliva.

SORCERER, half-grinning: That was amazing. I Guess I owe you one, huh?

ROGUE, from beneath the table, voice small: Yeah. Don’t mention it…

BARD: At this rate we'll never finish this quest...

While the Sorcerer excused himself to the bathroom to get cleaned off, the Rogue wiped her mouth, gulped down a bottle of water, and quickly snagged her clothes from around the Sorcerer’s chair to get dressed below the table, away from prying eyes. When she emerged she was red as a tomato, but sighed a soft chuckle.