Let Theora handle it

“Like you, for example?” Theora asked, squaring up to him.

“Yeah, like me,” the sailor laughed drunkenly. “Whoa, what’s up with your eyes?”

“Does it matter?” she asked. “Excuse me, Geralt, I’ll only be,” she looked him up and down, “A minute or so.” Taking the sailor by the hand, Theora led him through the back of the tavern and disappeared out of sight.

Moments later, Geralt focused his senses and heard the rhythmic slapping of skin on skin, along with the low groans of a drunken man in the throes of lust.

“Oh yeah, this is good,” he grunted. Geralt heard a sharp smack, and Theora squeaked, but Geralt wasn’t sure if it was in pain or pleasure.

“Plough me like you mean it, then,” Theora panted. The slapping became more frequent, and she began groaning softly. “Hm, that’s better. Uh, uh, UH! OW! No, not there, that one’s reserved … If you have to do something with your hands, pull my hair or rub my clit like a normal person! Lower … a bit to the right … oh, forget it, just ploughing cum.”

The man’s grunts became more ****, quickly turning to groans. “Oh, yeah, I’m gonna –”

“Stop saying you’re going to and just do it already!”

“Oh, shite! Nng!”

Moments later, Theora walked back through the tavern as she adjusted her sword belt. Her hair was slightly ruffled, and there was a faint flush to her tanned cheeks. “Sorry about that,” she smiled cheerfully. “I find it simpler than starting a bar fight.”

“Huh,” Geralt grunted, unsure what to make of the situation.

“I suppose you’re usually a hit with the ladies, what with the strong and silent type thing you’ve got going on,” Theora said, the question implicit in her words.

“Guess you could say that,” he muttered.

“That redhead seems pretty sweet on you,” she said. “Definitely plenty of history there.”

“Triss? Yeah. Lost my memory, fell in love with her … then remembered there was someone else.”

Theora let out a squeal of laughter. “Ha! It sounds awful when you put it like that!”

“Guess it does,” Geralt said, smiling slightly.

“So how’d that pan out?” she asked.

“Yen – Yennefer – was mad at first, but it’s fine. Mostly. We’re in an ‘open relationship’, as Yen calls it,” Geralt explained. “Meaning we can both –”

“I know what an open relationship is, Geralt,” Theora smirked. “That’s pretty much every relationship I’ve ever been in. It makes life so much easier.”

He glanced at the door, where he could still hear the sailor fumbling with his belt and talking happily to himself. “Clearly.”

The other witcher laughed. “Ouch, I felt that one” she grinned. “But for your information, I’m string-free at the moment.”

The rest of the evening passed without much incident, aside from a few drinks being thrown around the tavern in typical Skellig fashion. Geralt caught one heading straight for Theora’s head at the exact same moment that she moved out of the way to avoid it, and they shared a laugh.

By the time Geralt returned to Triss’ chambers, he had sobered up enough, despite being deep into his cups by the end of the night. Another sound-blocking enchantment and twenty minutes later and he nodded off, with Triss already snoring lightly on his chest.