“Fuck me, Master Jack,” the wench cried out. “Fuck me harder!”

Each thrust of Jack’s cock sent a jiggling wave across the wench’s belly and up to her huge tits which were splayed out to either side of her body like two great loaves of dough ready for kneading. Jack was working up a sweat as he pounded his meat enthusiastically into her cunt.

Her face was round with plump cheeks and a bit of a double chin. Her short straw-colored hair was tied into two loose braids that curled up on either side of her head. Her nose was small and turned up slightly. Her eyes were a bit too close together and she tended to cross her eyes during sex which Jack found just a bit disconcerting. Her moans of pleasure were loud and high pitched and when she gasped for breath she made a grunting sound in the back of her throat. Jack was beginning to understand why the men in the tavern had called her Piggy. “Let’s make this piggy squeal,” Jack thought as he began slamming into her harder and faster.

The wench scooped up her boobs with her hands and pushed them together so they looked like pale melons. Jack took the opportunity to bury his face in her cleavage and began sucking on her large pale pink nipples. He maintained a steady pace of pounding until the wench let out a high-pitched squeal and her body shuddered as her orgasm hit her. 

“Oh gods, Helga,” Jack said as he felt his passion building inside him.

“I’m not Helga,” the wench retorted with feigned disappointment. “I’m Olga.”

Just then the door creaked open flooding the room with a wedge of yellow light and the raucous sounds of the inn’s common room. The place smelled of wood smoke, burning herbs, sour ale, roasted meat, and sex. Especially sex.

“I’m Helga,” the other wench said as she brought three large mugs of ale and a platter of roast mutton, a wedge of cheese, a loaf, and a cluster of grapes into the room. She closed the door behind her.

Helga had dark brown hair, a long face, and light brown skin. Her nose had a prominent bridge and was slightly hooked. Her brow was heavy and her eyebrows grew together in the middle. Her upper lip sported a faint mustache and she kept her long black hair in a single braid that reached down to her bum. Her frame was taller and thinner than Olga’s but her joints were large and bony.

“Save some of that for me,” Helga said, as she stripped off her dress and slipped into the feather bed beside Jack and Olga.

Jack was what the ladies called easy on the eyes. He had brown hair with a bit of gray at the temples, arched eyebrows, a strong jaw sporting a neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard, and large brown doe eyes that women seemed to get lost in. His big easy smile made people trust him.

“You aren’t sisters by any chance?” asked Jack.

“What kind of deviants do you think we are?” answered Helga. “We’re cousins. First cousins once removed actually. Olga is my father’s sister’s daughter’s daughter.”

“I guess I won’t be checking that one off my bucket list,” Jack thought as he gave up on attempting to decipher exactly how the two wenches were related. Jack slid under the covers so he could plant his mouth on Olga’s mound. She had the merest fuzz of reddish-blonde for a bush and her taste was rather sweet and fruity.

When Jack came up for air Helga grabbed Jack’s shirt, loosened the laces, and began pulling it off of him before he could stop her.

“Great Glafess!” she said as she saw the scars.

“Sorry about that,” said Jack pausing for a moment. “I should have warned you.”

Three long deep scars ran the length of Jack’s back from the left shoulder to the right hip. They were mostly white except in the core of each where a strip of red-violet tissue remained.

“A little souvenir I picked up in the Demonwood,” Jack explained. Had it really been over sixteen years ago? The wounds still had not completely healed. The skin remained easily damaged and sometimes a dark ichor would ooze from the core of the gouged flesh. “Come to the common room later and I’ll tell the tale.”

Jack turned his attention to Helga. Her breasts were about the size and shape of a wine glass, much smaller than Olga’s, but they were firmer and remained erect even when she lay on her back. Jack began by sucking on her acorn-shaped nipples. He eagerly kissed his way down to her cunt which was as bushy as a dwarf’s beard. Bathing was generally considered unhealthy in these parts so Jack followed the scent until he found her slit. She had a strong, pungent, musky flavor that Jack relished. It contrasted greatly with Olga’s fruity flavor.

Jack rested his hands on either side of Helga’s body to support the weight of his upper torso before he plunged his rod into her. She responded with a satisfied moan of pleasure. Her cunt was as juicy as a ripe peach. Jack arched his back as he slammed into her. Olga began squeezing and stroking Jack’s sack to urge him on until Jack could feel his load building up below his balls. He tried to hold off a bit longer but he knew it was no use so he let out a moan and released his seed deep inside of Helga. His thrusts grew less frantic as he finished spurting inside of her. He gradually withdrew as his phallus softened.

Olga was quick to pop his cock into her mouth and suck out the last few drops of his seed. Then she planted her mouth on Helga’s vulva and slurped up the thick cream that was oozing from her gaping slit. She moved up so her mouth was over Helga’s. 

“Thtick out your dongue,” Olga mumbled as she held the load of cum in her mouth. Helga smiled and got a dreamy look in her eyes as she extended her long pointed tongue to her chin. Olga pursed her lips and let Jack’s cream slowly ooze from her mouth onto Helga’s tongue. Helga drew it into her mouth closed her eyes for a moment and smiled as she swallowed it.

“Mmm, he certainly has good taste,” she said.

Jack reclined on the bed enjoying the cum play between the two wenches. He cut himself a slice of mutton and tore a piece of bread from the loaf. Jack liked the lake region. There were plenty of small villages each with an inn. There were plenty of whores plying their trade. His type of bawdy storytelling served to warm up the crowd for the whores. Most inns realized he was good for business and gave him a free room and enough food to fill his belly. The tips he earned provided traveling money to get to the next town with enough left over for him to buy some simple pleasures.

Jack’s thoughts drifted back to the witch of the Demonwood. Jack wondered if anything more than his scars had come from his encounter with the witch. Is it possible there was some monster out there now because of his lust? He shuddered to think of it. After his narrow escape from that dreaded place, he had stopped being Jack the huntsman and become Jack the storyteller. At first, it had been an insult. No one believed the stories he told, and the trauma he had endured caused him to sink into a gloom that was hard to shake. One day he was spinning his tales when a listener tossed him a coin.

“I don’t believe a word of it,” the stranger said, “but the story is worth a copper to hear it told so well.”

Jack snatched the coin out of the air and that gave him the idea. He had a strong baritone voice and could carry a tune. Soon he began embellishing the stories with songs and poems. It wasn’t long before he was earning a good bit of silver in an evening.

Jack returned his attention to the two wenches. Olga had inserted her two middle fingers into Helga’s cunt and was stroking it vigorously. Helga began bucking her hips as she approached her peak, her fluids combined with Jack’s to form a frothy lather. She cried out in a deep-throated moan as the wave of pleasure took her. The two wenches turned again towards Jack and began rubbing and squeezing his cock. Jack felt his cock begin to come alive again. As it began to become engorged, the two cousins took turns sucking on it as if they were in a contest to see which of them could make it the hardest. When they thought it was sufficiently stiff, Olga pushed him back onto the bed, straddled him, and let his cock slide into her juicy slit. Helga got up and went over to the platter of food. Olga leaned over Jack and let her enormous teats dangle within reach of his eager mouth.

Jack was happy to oblige her by giving each of them equal attention suckling on them and leaving them moist and glistening. Olga began pounding onto Jack’s pole sending ripples throughout her body and causing her tits to flop around chaotically, pummeling Jack’s face. Helga decided to join in again and gently moved Olga into a sitting position then climbed over Jack facing Olga straddling Jack so her cunt was above Jack’s mouth. She began kissing her cousin on the mouth and pressed her smaller breasts against Olga’s massive melons. Jack raised his head up to press his mouth against Helga’s frothy lips and licked at the remaining spunk oozing from her cunt. He then put his mouth on her cunt and began sucking on it and was surprised when a grape popped into his mouth. So that’s what she was up to. He munched on it and tried again and was rewarded with another and another.

“How many do you have hidden?” Jack asked.

“There are ten if you can find them all,” Helga laughed.

Jack was able to get the first five out by licking and sucking but he needed to dig with his fingers to obtain the next two. The last three were proving difficult and however much he probed with his fingers or tongue, Jack could not retrieve them, although Helga seemed to be enjoying his efforts.

“My cousin has a secret compartment,” Olga explained finally. She spread Helga’s bum cheeks wide then crooked her finger and scooped into Helga’s brown puckered hole to retrieve a purple grape. She popped it into her mouth and began munching on it. “Only two more,” she said as she resumed probing until she produced a second. The second she fed to Helga. The third was proving the most difficult but after much prodding and probing and using three fingers, she finally produced the third and largest of the grapes. She popped it into Jack’s surprised mouth with a laugh.

Seeing how much Helga enjoyed having her hole stretched open Jack asked “Would you like me to make a deposit in your secret compartment, Helga?”

“Please do, Master Jack,” Helga replied politely. Olga aided the endeavor by licking and spitting to moisten the entrance before Jack began pushing against it. Helga let out a small moan when Jack’s head breached her keep. He began sliding in and out with long slow strokes while Olga dribbled more saliva onto the rim of their union. A series of shivers ran through Helga’s body as her ecstasy came upon her and she let out a series of moans. She began clutching at her empty cunt in an effort to fill it with her fingers. Olga began slapping Jack on his bare behind to spur him to greater effort and in response, Jack began slamming into Helga until his groin was slapping against her bum with loud whacks. Finally, Jack gripped Helga’s hips and pulled her hard against him as he released his seed deep within her nethers. Jack collapsed onto the bed fully sated with Helga spooning him as Olga licked him clean.

Olga was starting to squeeze and twist Jack’s spent meat but he gently pushed her away.

“I hate to be a disappointment to you,” Jack said, “but it is time I earned my keep and my coin.”

+++++

The common room was filling up with a mixture of locals and travelers as Jack came downstairs from his romp. Farmers, fishers, woodcutters, and carpenters mingled with the more exotic merchants, drivers, guards, and mercenaries. Occasionally even minor nobles or local princes made an appearance.

This region was beautiful with many wooded hills, abundant lakes, and picturesque farms. The great Ellago River wound its way lazily through the region. The river was broad and deep enough for ships to travel bringing supplies from the sea. Every curve of the river seemed to host its own small kingdom and any ship that sailed upriver paid a heavy price in tolls along the way. This tended to enrich all of the lands between the sea and the mountains. There was no toll on stories so it worked out fine for Jack. There must have been hundreds of little kingdoms between the mountains and the sea, and Jack sometimes felt like he had been to every one of them. Failing to keep track of local laws and customs could be anything from embarrassing to deadly. Jack quickly learned about the kingdoms that had too restrictive rules and avoided them.

As Jack surveyed the crowd he noticed a strange figure clinging to the shadows in the back of the room. It seemed to be a young woman. Something felt very familiar about her. Perhaps she was a whore he had bedded? She made eye contact with him and Jack felt a sharp twinge in the wound on his back. Her glance had an unnatural brightness to it. He saw a knife in her belt. It seemed to trigger an unpleasant memory. Or was it a pleasant one? Jack was about to move over towards her when he was distracted by a conversation at the bar.

“Seen another pack o’ them knife-ears yester’ lurkin’ ‘round the woods. Don’t need their kind comin’ into decent parts causin’ trouble. Can’t trust ‘em, says I, sneakin’ about. Should send ‘em back where they come from.”

The man looked to be almost as large as an ogre and only half as intelligent. Exactly the type of person Jack was not interested in getting into an argument with. Knife-ears was a derogatory term for elves. There were rumors of a war in the north. The witch queen was gaining more territory and many of the fair folk were refugees. Even though the elves tended to keep to the forests it made people uneasy seeing them about. How long would it be before the war spilled over into the Ellago Valley? It made Jack think about some of his stories and wonder how different people might interpret some of them. He was never one to get involved in local politics. Was he spreading political influence inadvertently?

Jack searched the crowd for the young woman he had seen earlier. Most of the crowd was human, but there were a few humanoids who had found a place in the town. He recognized Kumskwirt and Smegmo, the half-goblin tanners sitting in the front near the roaring hearth. He also saw “Puffy” Ari Olo the dwarven blacksmith, who was sitting at a table in the back sharing an enormous pipe full of a mixture of herbs with Fuzzi Nipel the half-halfling chandler. Fuzzi was over six feet tall and the only sign of his halfling ancestry was his habit of going around barefoot all of the time. The aroma from their pipe permeated the room. Jack could not find the young woman he had seen earlier.

The sun had set and silver Argimon was a great crescent in the sky, so it was time he got started. Jack got out his lute, tuned it, and gave it a tentative strum. Satisfied with the result he began with a song.

Lend me your ear and I’ll tell you a tale,
Of damsels and demons, of titties and ale;
There’s something exotic,
There’s something erotic,
There’s something for all in the story tonight;
There’re goblins and wenches and sorcerers too,
There’re intrigues and battles and mighty good stew,
A grain of vulgarity,
A dash of depravity,
There’s something for all in the story tonight;
For wars and for witches, there is a season,
The pussies are moist and for very good reason, 
You might say its erratic,
Or melodramatic,
There’s something for all in the story tonight!

Jack got a smattering of applause and some voices called out to him from the audience.

“Tell us the one about the sorcerer and the raven,” called a voice. 

“The Fall of Ether’ell,” called another.

“How about the witch queen and the elf maid.”

“Pirates!” Kumskwirt ejaculated excitedly. “We’s wants to hear one about pirates!”

“Of course,” Jack called out in a loud voice, “but my first tale begins with a stag.”

“Might you be referring to yourself then, Master Jack?” came a voice from the audience. Jack wasn’t sure if it was Helga or Olga.

“I might,” he said, “but I’m not. The stag was more magnificent than I imagined…”