The Wee Hours of the Morning (Colt)

Colt stood, naked and sweaty with his cock hanging limp between his legs, and drained the last of the bottle of wine he’d snagged before coming up to his room.

“Share,” Shayliss crooned from where she was laid out on the bed. She was as naked as the wizard, her breasts red from frequent fondling and her legs splayed and revealing her well fucked cunt leaking Colt’s cum. How many times was it?

With nothing left in the bottle, Colt stepped over and hovered his mouth over Shayliss’s, and she opened her lips and allowed him to dribble the wine from his mouth to hers. She chucked in her chest as he did it, and soon their lips had closed on each other as they passed the last mouthful of wine back and forth.

Shayliss was the filthiest woman Colt had ever fucked in all the best ways. But, even as her hot tits pressed against his bare chest, and their tongues danced, his cock remained soft.

Four times. Four! He was happy enough with that performance that another round being out of the question was perfectly fine.

The first had been down in the common room. Fast and quick, with Shayliss’s leg keeping him pinned inside her as she stared into his eyes and they fucked with a crowd just feet from their backs. After that, she had asked if he had a room, and then took his hand and pulled him towards the stairs, her shirt still hanging mostly open from his playing with her tits. That was when he’d grabbed the wine bottle for the disapproving, scowling halfling woman working as a bartender.

The second time had been just inside the door of the room, on the floor with Shayliss face down and her ass in the air. By the third they had made it to the bed and fully naked, and Shayliss had sucked him and then rode him, bucking with passing as she thrust her tits into his mouth. The last had been a lazy fuck on their sides, spooned in the bed as Colt recited the poetry of the elf bard Belinitine for her. Belinitine, who was known to have been a serial womanizer, had a way of making even the simplest passage erotic.

“Mmm,” Shayliss moaned. “Mmm!” She pushed Colt back and looked out the window, where the darkness of the night was slowly turning to a cold blue of the earliest morning hours. “Shit!”

She scrambled from the bed to the floor, gathering her clothes. “I need to get home. Father will wake soon and I doubt even my sister can cover for me then.”

Colt remembered the man, barrel chested and with fists the size of summer hams. He helped Shayliss get her clothing on, and her boots laced.

“When-” Colt started, but Shayliis pulled him into a hard kiss, her wild red-gold hair a splash against her white skin as she pressed herself to him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night,” she said. “Katrine won’t stand for it two nights in a row, I’ll need to cover for her tonight.”

And then she was out the door, and Colt listened to her boots quickly cross the floorboards and head down the stairs.

He blinked and swayed on his feet, and managed to get the door closed. “That woman,” he said, gesturing to the thin air where an audience might have stood. “That woman will be my wife.”

Colt laughed, and shook his head. “Cayden Cailean’s brass cup, I am drunk.” He stumbled over to the bed and fell first onto it. Then groaned at the wet spot on the sheets, and rolled over a couple of times until he found a dry spot.

He was snoring in moments.

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