You need more of Olaf's cock

You lay back on the table, crimson hair splayed out around you, luxuriating in your post-orgasmic bliss, your quim still stuffed half-full of Olaf's hard cock. The brutish barkeep stands between your parted thighs with his cock frozen in place as he awaits your command. You decide you rather like the feel of his fat fuckpipe spreading your velvety lips. You slide your hand down to your clit and begin to massage your straining bud.

"Mmmmm," you smile up at the helpless barkeep. "Alright, you may continue. But slowly."

Olaf obeys, working his hips and sliding his thick cock into your quivering quim inch by delicious inch until his pubic hairs tickle your clit once more and his heavy balls are snug against your arse. He withdraws just as slowly. You can hear him sliding his cock from your wetness, a sound like pulling apart two damp sheets of paper, until just the bulbous head remains between your velvety lips.

You use him, teasing, fucking you slowly through the afterglow, him like a metronome between your thighs, slowly measuring out each stroke, you squirming beneath him, moaning softly and pinching your nipples to add to the stimulation.

"Harder," you moan as the pleasure begins to build. "Fuck me harder. Faster."

He is above you now, heavy, burying himself in you again and again. You lean up and kiss him, ignoring the beer on his breath and enjoying the feel of his thick cock stretching you, bottoming out inside you with each downward stroke. You lace your arms around his thick neck and cling to him, your breasts mashed against his crude peasant shirt.

"That's it," you moan, "faster now. Fuck me like you mean it."

Olaf growls and pushes you onto your back once more, the table groaning in protest as he climbs fully atop you, buried to the bollocks, the table legs creaking as his bum tenses and releases with each thrust. You explode around him, cumming harder than you have in weeks. You throw back your head and cry out, Olaf's prick piston sloshing in and out of your fluttering fuckwalls. Waves of domination bury your brutish boy toy's will completely under your influence. You arch your back, another wave of pleasure erupting from your depths, your entire body feeling as if it will split open on the hot spear of his cock.

The pleasure is excrutiating, but you know there is something that could heighten it further.

"Cum inside me," your gasped command sounds more like a plea. "Cum in me, now."

The sound of your voice is enough to compel the swollen cock jamming you to the limit to shudder. Olaf groans with pleasure and slams you harder and deeper than you thought possible. His balls tight against your arse twitch and you feel him, cumming as you are, blasting his hot seed into your churning depths. Each thrust of his pumping prick sends another geyser of spunk inside your quim and another burst of pleasure arcing through your body. His thrusts take on a decidedly wet and raunchy sound and you can feel his frothy fuck-slime slipping out around his cock and drooling down your crack and onto the table. You don't care, you want him to cum inside you all night. Alas, his spurts diminish, the warmth inside you begins to recede and you can feel Olaf's cock slowly shrinking.

"Get off of me," you finally say.

Olaf steps back, his cock leaving you with a slurp and his mess pouring out of your lubed lips. You sit up and examine the mess between your thighs, like a puddle of spilled glue glugging out of your well-pounded mound and dripping off the edge of the table. You wipe your dripping sex on the cleanest spot you can find on the barkeep's trousers.

"You stay and clean this up," you tell Olaf. "I am going to my room."

As you exit the side room with your clothing draped over your arm you find Worm waiting for you. The horrid little chaun is standing with his little willy as hard as a tentpole and a pitiful, pleading expression on his face. His lower lip juts out and quivers as he seems to beg you for some attention. He's kept out of your way at Olaf's. Perphaps he thinks he is entitled to a reward. It strikes you that you may have been too charitable with your slaves. Perhaps a lesson is in order for the miniature monster.