How My Wife Became the inn’s Prostitute

The last rays of sunlight have long since faded, replaced by the warm glow of oil lamps and the crackling fire in the hearth. The common room is empty now, the dinner rush having come and gone like a summer storm. The air still holds the lingering scents of roasted meat and fresh bread, mingling with the ever-present undertones of ale and woodsmoke.

I'm wiping down tables, the familiar motions soothing my frayed nerves. The rag in my hand is damp and cool, a stark contrast to the heat that's been simmering beneath my skin all day. Every so often, my gaze drifts to the stairs leading up to the guest rooms, to where I know Babin is staying. His words from earlier echo in my mind, sending fresh waves of shame and arousal coursing through me.

The sound of footsteps pulls me from my thoughts. I look up to see Sirre descending the stairs, her auburn hair loose around her shoulders, catching the lamplight like burnished copper. She's changed out of her work clothes into a simple linen nightgown, the fabric clinging to her curves in a way that makes my body ache for her.

As she approaches, I notice a glint in her green eyes that I've come to recognize over our years together. It's a look that promises mischief, that sets my heart racing and my palms sweating. She reaches me, and before I can say a word, she's pressing me against the nearest table, her body flush against mine.

"You've been giving me naughty eyes all night," Sirre purrs, her breath hot against my ear. "I could see you hiding it too, like an embarrassed schoolboy." She pulls back slightly, fixing me with a wicked smile that sends a jolt straight to my groin. "It turned me on."

I laugh awkwardly, the sound catching in my throat. "You're not wrong," I admit, my voice husky with desire and nerves.

Sirre's smile widens, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on my chest. "Well, what's got you so wound up?" she asks, her tone teasing. "I didn't wear anything sexy."

My mind races, images of Babin and Sirre tangled together flashing behind my eyes. I swallow hard, trying to find the words to explain without revealing the full extent of my perverse desires. "I just... I've been thinking about you all day," I manage to stammer out, not entirely a lie.

Sirre's expression shifts, annoyance flashing in her green eyes. Before I can react, her hand darts down, cupping my balls through my trousers. She squeezes gently, just enough to make her presence known, sending a jolt of pleasure mixed with trepidation through my body.

"That's the second time today you've fibbed, honey," she says, her voice low and dangerous. Her fingers flex, a subtle reminder of the power she holds. "I let this morning go because I thought you were stressed about paying our mortgage, but it feels like there's more going on here."

I frown, feeling caught. My heart races, torn between arousal at her touch and fear of what might happen if she discovers the truth. The room seems to shrink around us, the flickering lamplight casting dancing shadows across Sirre's face, making her expression even more unreadable.

"What did you and that big fellow talk about earlier?" she asks, her eyes boring into mine. "I saw you two drinking and laughing when I came back from the market. You seemed... different after that."

Her grip on my balls tightens ever so slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to make me gasp.

I sigh, my resolve crumbling under Sirre's intense gaze and insistent touch. "He... he propositioned me," I admit, the words tumbling out in a rush. "Offered one silver coin to have you... 'service' him for the night."

As soon as the words leave my lips, I feel my cock stiffen instantly, straining against the fabric of my trousers. Sirre's eyes widen, a grimace flashing across her face. But then her gaze drifts downward, and she feels the unmistakable hardness pressing against her thigh.

Slowly, teasingly, she begins to stroke my length through my pants. The friction is maddening, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through my body. "You didn't say yes, did you?"

"No, never," I gasp out, my hips involuntarily bucking into her touch.

Sirre looks down at where her hand is working me through the fabric, her expression a mix of curiosity and something darker. "Honey," she says slowly, "are you this hard over someone offering to fuck your loving wife?"

I feel my face flush, heat creeping up my neck and across my cheeks. The room seems to spin around me, the flickering lamplight casting strange, shifting shadows across Sirre's face. Her green eyes bore into mine, searching for answers I'm not sure I'm ready to give.

"I... I don't know," I stammer, my voice barely above a whisper. The admission hangs in the air between us, heavy with unspoken implications.

Sirre's hand stills on my cock, but she doesn't pull away. Instead, she leans in closer, her breath hot against my ear. "Tell me more," she murmurs, her voice sending shivers down my spine. "What exactly did he say?"

My breath catches in my throat as I struggle to form words. The memory of Babin's proposition floods back, vivid and arousing. "He... he said he'd pay one silver coin, even just for a blow job," I manage to choke out.

As I speak, Sirre's hand resumes its movements, stroking me with renewed vigor. Her other hand snakes up to tangle in my hair, pulling my head back slightly. "And that excited you, didn't it?" she asks, her voice a mix of accusation and arousal.

I nod, unable to deny it any longer. "Yes," I whisper, shame and desire warring within me.

Sirre's eyes flash with a mixture of lust and determination. In one swift motion, she pulls my pants down, my erection springing free. She drops to her knees, her warm breath ghosting over my sensitive skin. "Oh honey," she purrs, "look how hard you are for me."

She places a gentle kiss on the tip, her soft lips sending jolts of pleasure through my body. Sirre grins up at me, a predatory gleam in her eye. Suddenly, she pushes me backward, and I stumble, landing on my back on the rough wooden floor.

Before I can react, Sirre is straddling me, her nightgown hitched up around her waist. I can feel her heat hovering just above my throbbing cock. She leans down, her auburn hair cascading around us like a curtain, creating our own private world.

"Is this what's been eating at you for so long?" she asks, her voice husky with desire. "You were too embarrassed to tell your sexy, lustful wife that you wanted to see her with other men?"

Without waiting for an answer, she sinks down onto me in one smooth motion, taking me to the hilt. We both moan at the sensation, the sound echoing in the empty common room. Sirre begins to move, her hips rolling in a maddening rhythm.

"Oh god," she moans, her head thrown back in ecstasy. "You feel so good inside me, baby. But just imagine how it would feel to watch as another man stretches me open, fucks me until I scream."

Her words send a fresh wave of arousal coursing through me. I grip her hips tightly, guiding her movements as she rides me with increasing fervor. The air around us grows thick with the scent of our lovemaking, mingling with the lingering aromas of the inn.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Sirre continues, her voice breathless but filled with a newfound confidence. "Watching me take another man's cock, seeing the pleasure on my face as he fills me up."

She kisses me passionately, her lips crashing against mine with a hunger that takes my breath away. The sex feels as good as it used to back when we were risking our lives in the dungeons every day when everything was life or death. The familiar thrill of danger courses through my veins, heightening every sensation.

Sirre's nails dig into my shoulders as she rides me harder, her body undulating above me like a wild storm. The wooden floorboards creak beneath us, the sound mixing with our gasps and moans to create a primal symphony.

I slam into her harder, my hips rising to meet her with each thrust. The slap of skin on skin echoes through the empty common room, a rhythm as old as time itself. Sirre throws her head back, a low, guttural moan escaping her lips. Her auburn hair cascades down her back, the ends tickling my thighs with each movement.

Suddenly, she leans forward, her breasts pressing against my chest as she brings her lips to my ear. Her breath is hot and ragged as she whispers, "What would you do if someone else stole your devoted little wife?"

Her words ignite something primal within me. Images flash through my mind Sirre in the arms of another man, her face contorted in ecstasy as he takes her. The thought sends a jolt of electricity straight to my groin, and I feel my orgasm building with an intensity I've never experienced before.

"Oh gods, Sirre," I gasp, my fingers digging into her hips hard enough to bruise. "I'm going to..."

Before I can finish, the strongest orgasm I've ever felt courses through my body. It starts in my core and radiates outward, setting every nerve, ending alight with pleasure. My vision whites out, and for a moment, I'm floating, disconnected from everything except the overwhelming sensations wracking my body.

As I come back to myself, panting and trembling, I open my eyes to see Sirre staring down at me. Her eyes are wide with surprise, her mouth slightly agape. She can feel my cock still pulsing inside her, my release more powerful and abundant than ever before.

"Oh my," she breathes, a mixture of awe and excitement in her voice. "I've never felt you come like that before."

I feel a panic wash over me as the post-orgasmic clarity sets in. I hug her tight while she's still on top of me, my arms wrapping around her sweat-slicked back. "Honey, I can't lose you, please," I say, my voice cracking with emotion.

Sirre's eyes soften, concern and love replacing the lustful fire from moments ago. She cups my face gently, her thumbs stroking my cheeks. "Baby, baby, baby," she coos soothingly, "I don't want to ever do anything you don't want to do. You could never lose me, honey, I promise." She presses a tender kiss to my forehead. "I don't ever have to bring this up again, honey."

I hesitate for a moment, lost in the storm of conflicting emotions swirling within me. The lingering pleasure of our intense lovemaking mingles with the gnawing fear of potentially losing Sirre, creating a dizzying cocktail of sensations.

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry. "I... I don't know what I want," I finally admit, my voice barely above a whisper. The words hang in the air between us, heavy with implications and unspoken desires.

Sirre's expression softens further, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips. "That's okay, honey," she murmurs against my mouth. "We don't have to figure it all out right now."

Her acceptance washes over me like a soothing balm, easing some of the tension that had coiled tight in my chest. I let out a shaky breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.

"Thank you," I whisper, pulling her closer. The warmth of her body against mine grounds me, a reminder of the deep connection we share.

She whispers into my ear with a teasing grin, "Just let me know if you want me to get that silver coin from your new friend." Her breath is hot against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.

Suddenly, she winces, her body tensing around me. I realize that my cock has hardened again, already deep in her pussy.

Sirre's expression shifts, a slow, sultry smile spreading across her face. Her auburn hair falls around us, the soft strands tickling my cheeks. "A round two sounds even funner, though," she purrs.