Wisely

"Oh fuck yea," she groans as the first strand of cum hits her face. She sticks her tongue out to catch the next, and the rest plaster her cheeks and nose. It is the smallest of the three loads, but that is to be expected; Bran isn't a machine, after all.

Bran leans back against the bed, catching his breath. Ros looks hot from this angle, but Bran could hardly get it up anymore. Cum on her face, his second load on her breasts, and a filled up cunt. Bran had taken her every which way over the course of the hour. Cowgirl, missionary, on all fours. He hadn't been brave enough to ask for her ass, but that probably cost more anyway.

"Well, I think your hours up," Ros casually commented, walking over to a mirror. Wetting a rag, she began to clean herself off. "You actually went a little bit over, but I'll forgive the first timer." She winked at him through the mirror, making him blush. Even though he'd just finished fucking her, he still felt intimidated by her.

Once they were both cleaned up, they headed back down into the tavern. It was considerably more crowded than last time, as suppertime was approaching. He spotted Theon at the bar, drinking and bragging about his latest lay. The bartender seemed unimpressed, no doubt having heard similar stories all day, but humored Theon nonetheless. As Bran made his way over to his companion, he passed the bartender's granddaughter, and despite his last hour he still felt a stirring in his pants.

"Ah Bran, there you are!" Theon exclaimed, patting Bran on the back. "Finally a man! I hope that twenty gold was worth it!"

"Twenty-five," Ros called down from the stairs. "Lord Stark decided to finish inside."

"Really?" Theon asked, looking at Bran. He just nodded his head sheepishly. "Bloodsucking whore," Theon grumbled, throwing her five more gold coins.

"Sorry, didn't realize it would cost more," Bran mumbled, ashamed he'd been tricked.

"Ah, lighten up Bran," Theon laughed, giving him another pat on the shoulder. "She does that to all the first-timers. Besides, it's more fitting that way anyhow." Tossing a few copper pennies to the bartender, he stood up. "Well, we better head back to Winterfell. Don't want your father to notice we left."

"What about Robb?" Bran asked, scanning the room for his brother.

"Ah, he always takes a bit longer. Likes to rest with the bitch afterward or whatever." He waved his hand dismissively. "Waste of coin in my eyes but hey, I don't judge." Leaving the tavern, Bran takes a breath of fresh air. He only now realizes how heavy the scent of booze and sex was in that place. Grabbing their horses, they make it back to the castle without trouble. With only an hour until dinner, Bran contents himself with climbing the walls of Winterfell before running to dinner.