Down the ramp

At the bottom of the ramp is a large well lit room. In the center a large furnace sits empty and cold. Piles of wood, charcoal and iron bars sit neatly in bins and several anvils are arranged within easy reach of the furnace. Best of all is a large stone trough full of water and a drain in the floor that the water can flow into. A clean rag lying near one of the anvils will serve as a wash cloth and there are some large quilted blankets hanging from the wall to use as towels. Putting down your spear and axe, and unfastening your belt you pile all your weapons near one of the anvils. Then you unbuckle your breastplate and pull your feet from the manure covered sandals. You take off the rest of your armor and the sweat stained linen undershirt and loincloth and you stand naked by the clean water. The layer of crap that covers your lower body washes away easily as you pour buckets of water over your head and scrub yourself with the rag. As you get clean you relax slightly and your mind drifts to planning out how to take advantage of being one of the first men in the city. As your mind drifts, you become careless and knock over a bucket standing on the edge of the trough. It lands with a loud "clang" and you immediately freeze. As you stand absolutely still except for the drops of water falling off your back you hear a voice calling softly:

"Lord Grey, you must be quiet!" it is a woman's whispered voice and it as getting closer "We are hiding here, we don't want anyone to hear - Aaagh" cries a busty young woman in her twenties as she steps around the corner from the barn. She clearly was not expecting to see a naked man washing in the forge room. While she stands petrified in fear you take three quick steps and grab the woman by the arm just as she turns to run. Pulling her back roughly up against your wet chest one hand circles her waist while your other hand covers her mouth before she can make a sound. Her whole body is writhing against you as she desperately tries to get away. She doesn't weigh much at all, maybe just over 140 pounds, and you lift her feet completely off the ground as you pull her slowly back to the anvil where your weapons are stacked and whisper fiercely into her ear.

"Where is Lord Grey, and does he have any men with him?" You sense her confusion and then she starts to speak, carefully uncovering her mouth you get ready to clamp it tight over her soft lips if she tries to scream.

"Lord grey is a cat, please don't hurt me." Hurting her is the last thing you are thinking of. Her blouse is damp from the water falling from your hair and the arm wrapped tightly around her, the wet material is thin enough that the damp cloth molds the shape of her plump breasts. She is wearing a loose skirt that covers her knees, but you can feel the warmth of her muscular thighs and bottom against your legs. The woman smells of hay and clover and you see several pieces of straw caught in her hair. You haven't had a woman for over a month and the feel of her soft body pulled against yours is causing the bulge between her body and yours to grow harder and longer. The woman is suddenly aware of the hardness and you feel her twisting and squirming as she tries to break your grasp.

"Oh Goddess, help me" she says softly as your hand slides down into the gap in her blouse. Her breasts are firm and you feel her nipple harden as you cup one in your hand.

"Oh Goddess, please" she says again, but her struggles are less frenzied now and you are able to turn her head to yours and capture her lips with your mouth. Thrusting your tongue between her teeth you continue your **** on her senses. With your tongue in her mouth she is no longer able to speak, but she is moaning softly as you knead her soft tit and explore her mouth. You no longer need to hold her mouth to yours, so you slide your hand down her body exploring the curves of her ass and thighs. She twists in your arms and pushing her hands on your chest pulls her lips free from yours:

"What am I doing!? What are you doing to me?" the desire is clear in her eyes mixed with fear and surprise. "I'm not usually like this." She lifts herself onto her tip toes and her lips are just brushing yours. "Will you be gentle?"