Black Gratification Part 3

 A/N: More than double the length it was originally. This really got away from me. This is what you get when I'm not off my game.

-(-)-

The flight to Mistral was a lengthy one. A good nine hours. Plenty of time to get a little work done, or it would be if this part of the world had a reliable ConneCT signal. Without that, without the ability to get in contact with his clients, James was stuck amusing himself or sleeping. The latter was far beyond his ability in that moment. Too many thoughts whirling about in his mind. Contingencies that may be applicable to his current situation. And the choice of whether he wanted to make use of them. Certainly Salem made for an imposing figure but that didn't in any way remove his distaste for being an underling. James Moriarty was not beneath anyone, no matter how alluring an image the Grimm woman made when she was on top.

Though at the same time... What she wanted him to do... It ignited a flame of passion in his heart. Women of strength and virtue, his to turn into eager pets? What a delightful idea.

He didn't care for the baggage he had been left with though. “Woman, did you offer to pleasure me or not?” he demanded of his new servant as she knelt between his legs, suckling the tip of his cock. “Must I educate you in the proper course of fellatio?”

“No. Master,” she answered in that halting way of hers, vacant white eyes staring up at him as she forced her lips over the head, driving herself deeper as she should have minutes ago. She continued to stare up at him as she let her lips drag back and forth, her tongue wriggling as best it could against his excessive girth.

“That's better,” he sighed, his head leaning back as he enjoyed her ministrations. He could only hope that the woman would be worth more than the inconvenience she caused. An outlet for his sexual urges? He could have one of those whenever he desired, and women were always more fun when they had their full faculties intact. More useful too. Silver seemed capable of acting on her own but not so much thinking for herself. James was more than familiar with having to do the thinking for other people... But still. He lamented she had been so thoroughly broken. Perhaps he could try to rouse her humanity once again? If not, he could always dispose of her like the others.

Several minutes of unremarkable oral later, he grabbed his new servants head and forced her down as far as she could go, her pale throat bulging from the intrusion. “Drink it down,” he ordered, grunting lightly as he poured his seed directly into her belly. Even with her desire to fulfil his order a sticky white foam spurted from her lips. He sighed in both relief and disappointment. “Be sure to clean up your mess.”

Silver gurgled as her lips dragged back down his cock, still struggling to swallow the last dregs. She made absolutely certain she had licked the head clean before she allowed it to escape her lips, quickly moving down to lick the rest of her mess clean.

Well, James could at least appreciate one thing about her so far. She was certainly thorough.

-(-)-

“Mistral,” Moriarty observed, coming out of the airport onto a balcony overlooking the valley city. All natural greens and wine reds, a man-made waterfall flowing from above down to the river of the valley floor below. Pretty as a matte painting. Or several. It had been his intent to move here after his more relaxing time in Vale. Get a bit of the old excitement going. Atlas had the looming threat of military police but they were a machine he understood. Mistral? The threat here was the myriad criminal factions vying for supremacy, the law an ineffectual obstacle at best. What a battlefield it would have been!

Well, getting caught up in an ancient conspiracy of millennia-old adversaries was fine too.

“Come, Silver,” he ordered, descending the stairs that would take him into the city proper. His objective visible on the far side atop the eastern hill. Haven Academy. To think, the asset Salem spoke of who would provide him credentials was the headmaster of a huntsman academy. With such a well-placed agent under her control he found himself amazed she hadn't put Leonardo Lionheart to use before now. Perhaps she had. Or perhaps she had some greater aim that she had not considered necessary to reveal to him. He smirked as he walked through the streets toward a cable car. “Of course she has,” he thought aloud, “and she's placing me at another. So she's the type to set the board in her favour before the game even starts, hm?”

“Master?” Silver asked.

“Oh, don't mind me, Silver. And–“ He considered telling her not to call him that, but they were in Mistral. Who would care? Besides, it was a pleasant title to hear, emotionlessly spoken or not. “Never mind.”

One cable car journey and another moderate walk took the pair to the gates of Haven. Unguarded. It was merely a school after all, and it wasn't in session for a month more yet. “And you are?”

Or perhaps there was a guard. And quite possibly the only guard the school would ever need. A crimson changshan, circular sunglasses, hair greyed from age. A recognisable silhouette, a dangerous presence. Moriarty didn't need to engage his Calculation to determine that. “Well, this is a surprise. And here I expected most of the staff to be absent at this time of year. You are quite the dedicated man, Professor Shu.”

Li Shu. The God Spear. To call him a famed huntsman would be doing him a disservice. Not only for being more than simply famed, but also because he was far more than a mere huntsman. It was only good sense in James' line of work to stay informed concerning the most dangerous people on Remnant. Li Shu was one such man. A life of combat, tempering his spearwork in any and all conflicts as he could find. He had been part of the bloodiest moments in the history of Mistral's underground. And as the world settled more and more into peace, he moved once again where the fighting was thickest, turning his famed spear against the Grimm. And finally, in his advanced age, he took the position of combat instructor at Haven Academy.

He was, quite honestly, exactly the type of man Moriarty feared. A sharp mind would beat brute strength every time, but Li Shu had both. Had tempered both with a singular drive such that if he wanted someone dead, they would die. Moriarty had a brilliant mind and had tasked it with learning many disciplines. Shu had a brilliant mind and for his entire life had tasked it with the singular purpose of honing the art of killing.

And in that moment, Li Shu did not acknowledge Moriarty's words in the slightest. Still waiting for an answer to his question.

“I'm here to see Professor Lionheart. He should be expecting me.”

“Hm...” He continues to stare from behind his sunglasses, arms behind his back. “Thank you for indulging my... curiosity.” Even as he bowed slightly and walked away, he never fully turned his back, continuing to eye the visitors until he was out of sight.

A lesser man might have breathed a sigh of relief for the end of the strange and oddly dangerous encounter. The blood that man had spilled hung over him like a cloak. The words exchanged had been simple. Innocuous. And yet a bead of sweat ran down James' neck. Even so, he let none of it show on his face. “Let's get to our meeting, shall we?” he asked his companion, not caring for her thoughts on the matter despite the question. It wasn't as though she would have any.

A further walk through quiet halls, toward the far section of the school. James did not have knowledge of the layout but found his way to his destination easily all the same. He did not knock when he reached Lionheart's office, instead opening the door and walking in as though the office was his. Salem had called the man a coward. That was all the information Moriarty needed to know how to deal with him.

“Li? Was there something you–“ the bearded faunus began to ask as he looked up from his desk, only for his eyes to widen. “... Ah.”

“Ah, indeed,” James agreed. “It is a pleasure to see you again Leonardo, my old friend.”

Brown eyes flicked from the moustachioed man to the pale-eyed, silver-clad woman. “Ah, yes it... Has. It is good to see you again... Jim?”

The false smile on Moriarty's face sharpened, a gleam of malice entering his eyes. “Ah, Leonardo, you know how much I hate when you call me that.”

“Aha-ahaha! O-Of course!” the faunus stammered, laughing awkwardly as he stood from behind his desk. “You know how I like to joke around! Hahaha!”

“Hahaha, of course, of course!” James laughed along with him. “Well, aren't you going to offer us a drink? We have so much to catch up on.”

“Ah, err, y-yes, that sounds like a splendid idea. Let me just...”

Oh, this was so much fun. Coward was certainly a way to describe the man but the criminal mastermind had no idea he would be so fun or easy to torment. An absent thought appeared, if he had decided to actually be threatening, would the headmaster have soiled himself? Hmm... No. Lionheart was still a huntsman of some stripe, despite his nature. He wouldn't break quite that easily. Bend like a tree in the breeze? Absolutely. Break? Well it had happened once, clearly. And James had an idea of how that occurred.

His purpose wasn't entirely to terrorise a fretful old faunus. That was just a side benefit. The true purpose for this whole charade was to gather information from one of Salem's pets. And so began a time of small talk between 'old friends' to let them 'catch up', an opportunity for James to question the headmaster on recent goings on. To Lionheart, it might seem he was checking up on progress of whatever he was working on, as such he was quick to inform his guest. Tell him of the recent 'difficulties', how more huntsmen seemed to be falling in the line of duty. Such a terrible tragedy.

Setting up the board indeed. Quietly removing the best defenders of one of the four kingdoms. Ready for the final betrayal, for all of the opponent's works to collapse inwards.

Well, for the time being it was none of Moriarty's concern. He wasn't entirely interested in maintaining the world order. So long as he was enough on the winning side he could continue having his fun, it was all fine.

“Well this has been fun, Leo,” the villain announced finally once he had what he wanted, “But I think it's about time for me to move along. I have an interview to prepare for after all. Speaking of which, have you prepared what I requested?”

“Oh, yes yes!” the slightly overweight man answered with a twitchy nod, tapping at his desk computer, setting a file transfer to his guest's scroll. “There you are, your complete record of service as a huntsman of Mistral. And of course I'll be happy to give you a glowing recommendation to Ozpin. He would, ah, be lucky to have you.”

“Of course he would,” James agreed, checking his scroll to see everything was in order. “Lovely to see you again, do keep in touch.”

“Yes of course!”

-(-)-

No available flights to Vale until the next day. Rotten luck but not unexpected. So they had to stay in town overnight, it wasn't the end of the world. In fact, the prematurely grey criminal felt it could even be an opportunity. To see the dark underbelly of Mistral he would be missing out on.

And so even though he could certainly afford decent accommodations for himself and Silver, instead he dragged them down closer to the valley floor. The idiom describing what rolls downhill was as accurate in Mistral as it was anywhere else. Higher elevation meant higher social strata. And so deep down next to the river was where the dregs of society eked out a meagre existence. An ideal source of prey for the darker elements of civilisation. The structures this far down sat upon stilt platforms. The lowest aside from the rough shanties and camps directly on the river, homes that could be dismantled and moved come flood season.

Cheap inn, cheap rooms, cheap food, cheap people. James grabbed hold of a hand that wandered where it shouldn't, snapping the wrist and shoving the screaming idiot away.

Cheap tricks.

The hate surrounding him, he luxuriated in it. He was an outsider. Not just for hailing from outside Mistral, his dress, his mannerisms, they marked him as one who didn't belong in this squalor. One who was slumming it. But... dealing so quickly with the first idiot who thought to try his luck added 'one who was dangerous' to that list of descriptors. And suddenly that aura of hatred switched from imminent action to impotent inaction. The removal of such a distraction allowed for focus on the more interesting elements at play. The Spiders, Malachite's organisation seemed to be ascendant at the moment based on how many were subtly or not so subtly wearing the emblem.

“Mother–“

“No.”

“You won't even listen?”

“Ms Ren!”

“Don't. It's you that put this idea into her head isn't it?!”

Moriarty took one glance out of the corner of his eye at the brewing argument before continuing on his way. Two young women and one older. A mother and her daughters having a disagreement? No, one was very clearly not related to the other two.

“She did no such thing. I decided this for myself.”

“Yeah! And where Ren goes, I go!”

“I don't care! You two are not going to be huntresses! This discussion is over! Do you want to end up like your father? Hm?!”

Wannabe huntresses, hm? He slowed his pace so he may continue to listen.

“It's because of him I'm doing this.”

“He never would have wanted this for you!”

“What he wanted for me isn't as important as what we needed back then. You remember, don't you? It was one of the last things he said. 'We need a huntsman.' We lost everything to the Grimm. If there had just been a huntsman there... I can be that. We can be that. Huntresses. What we needed back then I can be that for others.”

“We didn't lose everything! I didn't lose you! And I won't lose you! I have to go to work. This discussion is finished. Go home, Lie!”

“Mother!”

“Home.”

A widow with a teenage daughter who had aspirations of being a heroic huntress, and that daughter's childhood friend who would follow wherever she went. It was like a storybook adventure. The next beat of which would be for the young girls to go off on their own regardless of the parent's wishes and become great heroes. Or for the mother to die tragically, forcing the girls to go off on their own.

Well, among other things, it seemed the mother was not aware of something important. James had spotted the creeping legs of a spider tattoo peeking out of the daughter's sleeve. The tragedy of the underclass, the lost and forgotten. Becoming fodder of the powerful for scraps from the table. One way or another the girl would die pointlessly. Such a shame. Such a pretty little thing too. Her friend was a little more thickset but certainly had an appeal of her own as well.

Humming to himself, the criminal consultant decided he had nothing better to do and followed the mother to her workplace and he was glad he did. It showed him he had mistaken the genre of this family's little tale. It wasn't adventure, it was tragedy. For why else would the mother work in a brothel?

That wouldn't do at all. This was clearly a situation that required his intervention. It would be the gentlemanly thing to do.

-(-)-

AN

The argument with her daughter hung at the forefront of her mind as An climbed the western valley hill to her workplace. She didn't blame her daughter. Not really. As ever, it was fear that drove her to anger, to raising her voice. That night... Losing Li had been the worst night of her life. It was only a miracle that allowed her to survive, her miracle, her little Lie. She had saved An and her little urchin friend that night. Her daughter had saved her from something worse than she could ever have imagined.

And yet now, whenever Lie spoke of being a huntress, that night of horror was all she could imagine. She didn't want that for her baby girl! A life of never-ending nightmares? No! They should just take their miracle and live!

And yet... And yet the reality of living as they were took a toll day after day. A toll she couldn't ignore as she approached her workplace, the two story building looming over her like a great beast fit to chew her up and spit her out.

She engaged in her usual routine. Entering through the back, the 'service' entrance as the employees called it as a joke. Some of the workers managed to find humour in what they did, An wasn't sure how. She moved through the narrow hallway, following the line of closely spaced doors until she found the one with her name, her assigned room for the day. Well, not so much a room as stall. Just enough room to make herself comfortable before the hole in the wall. A small bucket of water had been prepared for rinsing off between customers. A courtesy for both employees and customers. Men didn't seem to like other men's essence being anywhere near them.

She had felt a small part of herself die when she had first reduced herself to this. She had been a refugee, a single mother, effectively a mother of two. And Mistral's reputation was not one of kindness to the downtrodden. The tragedy of what had befallen them had earned pity for a time but the kindness of strangers was a fickle thing. She had managed to barely hold things together for her girls for years but inevitably one single setback brought everything crashing down around her.

She had seen how the bottom rung lived their lives. Weak and sickly, considered themselves lucky if they managed to eat two days in a row. It was no life for children. She needed to take care of her girls.

Lie certainly knew what her mother really did to put food on the table. An had tried to hide it. Said she got a job in the upper city. She had thought herself convincing enough until at only fourteen years old her little Lie had presented her with money she had earned, yet refused to say how. Like mother like daughter. But at least she could be certain her little girl hadn't sunk to the depths her mother had.

An forced those thoughts aside for the moment. She would have plenty of time to get lost in thought but for now she had to make herself presentable. Removing her dress and her bra and folding them away in a clothes bin, she made sure to fold her arms under her bare breasts to push them up, make them look more appealing. It was the only part of her the customers wanted to (or were able to) see. Which also meant smiles were optional, thankfully.

She was all ready to start her shift, had mentally prepared herself. Which was why it was slightly irksome when she heard a knock on the door. Standing, still topless, she opened it, only making a token effort to hide her breasts. Anyone who could get back to see her had already seen it all anyway. “Ma'am?”

“Jun,” her boss, the floor manager addressed her by her fake name, “We've got a special request.”

Requests. The place where she worked wasn't particularly upscale as far as the industry went. Most of their operations involved women (and a few men) doing what An did. But sometimes a patron would, for a significantly greater amount of money, choose to spend some private time with someone. A session with less limited options of gratification. It was a quick way to make a little extra money for the working girls. It was also a good way to shorten the amount of time you could work, for one reason or another. High risk, high reward.

“I don't do requests.” She didn't do high risk. She was perfectly– She was comfortably– She was fine doing what she did, earning enough to get by.

“And under normal circumstances I wouldn't ask you to,” the madam nodded along. “But it's a different matter when the customer asks for you specifically.”

“For me?” It didn't make her any more eager to go along with it. Not at all.

“By description. 'The lovely woman with the plum-coloured hair' to be specific.”

It was less worrying than asking for her by name, at least. Either of them. He probably just saw her coming in. “Even so, I–“

And then the madam pulled out a lien card with a number on it that shut her up immediately. “This is what he gave me when I told him you don't do requests. Very specifically insisting you receive half, and considering even half is well above the going rate I'm willing to abide by that.” The older woman flicked the card from vertical to horizontal, holding it up. “You've been a dedicated, hard worker. So I'm willing to give this back and tell him no, even if I'm not happy about it.”

It was... It was a lot of money. She wouldn't have considered it so when Li was still alive, but for the meagre existence her family were living now... Two months of expenses at least. Three if she pushed it. A night's work... And she could have just a little security. Her Lie wouldn't need to do whatever she was doing anymore...

Feeling a new level of shame, she gave a shallow nod.

The madam nodded in return. “Good. I'd have hated to call one of my best girls stupid. One night's work for some 'shot at a better life' money? It's an offer I wish I got back when I was a working girl. Room two upstairs. Try to dress to impress. What that looks like I'll leave up to you.”

Minutes later there she was, sitting cross-legged on the bed in room two, looking ready for what was to come but certainly not feeling it. The room was what one might expect from a fairly low class brothel. Sheets and draperies of pink and purple, a material that very dearly wished it was silk but was very definitely not. She wondered whether it was intentional on the madam's part to assign her the room that matched both her hair and her undergarments. She had worn her lace to work today. Not as a matter of luck, it was more for the sake of options, if she wanted to work in bra and panties instead of fully topless. Some appreciated it, others didn't. Though often as not the men that liked it wanted to finish on them and that just made for an unpleasant rest of the shift.

An looked herself over. Was this pose right? Perhaps she should... Try to be more alluring? She uncrossed her legs, bringing them together and to the side in a lounging posture. But as she did she noticed how it made that little bit of excess flab on her belly show. She wasn't a young woman anymore. She didn't even remember how to be alluring. The last time she had really been with a man was a decade ago with–

She... She hoped Li would forgive her, wherever he was now. She was doing this for their daughter. She hoped he understood.

…

Maybe it would be better to greet him standing? Unfolding her legs she slid off the edge of the bed and stood facing the door. Her hands clasped in front of her to push her breasts up and inward, emphasise her cleavage just a little more.

Before she could second guess her choice a third time, she heard the click of the door latch, the door swinging inward, pushed by a burly arm. It was a comforting reminder, the guard standing there. He gave her a slight nod that reassured her. If something untoward were to happen he would be there in an instant.

She only caught a glance at her customer, a moustachioed older man, before she was bowing and looking at the floor. “Good evening, sir. My name is Jun.”

“Is it now?” the man asked with more than a touch of amusement, “Then it's certainly a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my dear.” She heard the creak of the closing door. “Please, raise your head.”

Doing so, she saw the glimpse she had of this man misled her. The silver of his hair along with the moustache suggested age but his face was clear of most other signs. Not so old then, perhaps even close to her own age. He had an affected dignity about him, like even in a whorehouse had felt he had to look and act his best. A picture of learned manners and wealth. That alone frayed her nerves even more. She had heard stories from the other girls of where a wealthy man's tastes might lie.

“I must admit, my dear,” he spoke as he removed his waistcoat and cravat, “You leave me feeling rather overdressed.”

“Then... Shall I, I mean, I'd be glad to help you feel more at ease, sir.” She tried to say it with confidence, with an alluring tone. And yet her feet stayed rooted to the spot, making no move to put her words into action.

“I fear I might be the more comfortable in this room, my dear,” he spoke, a smile in his voice, making no move to remove more clothing than he already had. “If I may make a guess, would this be your first time in a situation like this one?”

One hand slide up her arm to grip her own elbow in an awkward posture. How was she supposed to answer such a question? He was correct, but did he really believe so or was it just him wanting to pretend? She certainly couldn't play the part of the blushing virgin at her age, no matter how much her shame brought an embarrassed flush to her face. “I...”

His eyes scanned the room. “Ah!” he said suddenly. “Perhaps we could both use something to create a more relaxed atmosphere.” She took in a surprised breath as he approached, only to feel a little more at peace as he merely walked past her and around the bed. He stopped by a small table with a bottle and glasses on it. He let out a considering hum as he picked up and examined the bottle. “Would you care to join me for a drink, my dear?”

She very quickly agreed, feeling a need not just for the sake of easing her nerves but also to take her mind off what would inevitably happen soon. As she took her seat she felt her bare thighs rest on the wood of the chair. Not that she would complain. It actually took her a moment to realise she had made an error, sitting and letting him serve her when he was the guest. “Ah, sir–!”

“Not to worry, my dear,” he cut her off, raising the bottle as her saucer was filled. “I'm quite willing to take your role of mother for the moment. It must be exhausting to carry it all the time.”

Taking a sip that was more like a gulp from her saucer, “I'm sorry, I don't understand.”

“I suppose it isn't important. For the moment,” he raised his own saucer, “a drink to our health, hm?”

Somehow, over the course of an hour An found herself feeling more and more comfortable with this stranger. Comfortable enough to reveal just a little of who she was when asked, how she got to where she was. Perhaps it was the pleasant buzz of the alcohol, perhaps it was this man's convivial attitude, perhaps she merely needed someone to talk to. Someone to listen. And in that moment, he was that person. He gave her his full attention as she spoke, first vaguely of the tragedy that befell her family, then when more details started spilling out.

And her.. .Current problems.

“She doesn't know?” he asked.

“I don't–... I... I think she knows. We just mutually agreed not to talk about it.” She swayed her near empty saucer in her hand, watching the last dregs of liquid roll over the base. “And I don't ask her what she does to bring money home. It isn't like I have room to judge her. She learned how to survive from me. At least I know she didn't follow directly in my footsteps. I don't think I could live with myself if she followed me down this path.”

“And now she wants to be a huntress.”

“I just want us to be safe. Is that so wrong?”

“Hmmm,” he hummed as he set down his saucer and rose from his chair. Moving around the table he gently took her hand to lead her up, pulling her along to the bed. What? This–! It was so sudden! And yet she felt... Calm. Comfortable. She felt at peace. If she was going to do this, she was glad it would be with a man like... Like him. Even knowing in the back of her mind that money was changing hands, he made her feel safe. Warm.

He didn't make any aggressive moves as he lay her on the bed. Laying next to her, he pulled her over to rest atop him. Him fully clothed, her in her underwear. And all he did was run his hands along her bare skin. Gentle. Loving, even.

“I think... You keep telling yourself you want to be safe. That if this life you're living lets you keep living, then it's worth it,” he spoke his thoughts, hand softly caressing her belly as the other held her possessively. “But if that was all you wanted, you wouldn't be here now.”

An let out a relaxed, accepting sigh. He was right. If she had wanted to continue as she was, the sight of that much money wouldn't have tempted her so. She wanted to get away from this. Get her family away from this. Fear alone was stopping her. But that fear was more than up to the task. “I don't want to lose anyone else,” she whispered.

“There is no escaping risk. Only managing it to reach out for the joys of life.”

She... She didn't know what possessed her in that moment. What compelled her to do what she never wanted to do. Shuffling just enough to get close, she leaned up and pressed her lips against his. In that single heady moment, she gave up something she never thought she would. And like that, she found all of her doubts, all of her fears falling away to embrace the moment. This man, this stranger, she thought he had come here to use her as his whore, but instead he made her feel more like a woman than she had in years. All that time working as a hole for providing satisfaction, and here this man came along and showed her care and affection. Paid her for the privilege.

Rolling atop him, she sat straddling him, feeling a... worryingly large thing sliding along her undercarriage through layers of fabric. “I... My real name is An,” she admitted.

“James,” he gave his own easily without hesitation. Like he had nothing to be ashamed of. And he was right. In this moment, for the first time in years, she felt not one iota of shame for what she was doing. Reaching behind herself, she unsnapped the catch on her bra, discarding it to let her breasts hang free. His own hands came up to feel, the first time he had truly acted on his desires all night. His touch was an electric thing, a reminder of what she had been missing for so long. Unbuttoning his shirt, then his pants, she slid down to undress him, kneeling at the edge of the bed between his legs.

… Li had not been particularly large but she had never found him wanting. And she had seen plenty of other men's equipment in her time working here. James was comfortably the biggest she had ever seen. Like the gods put an extra forearm in the wrong place, a veritable tower of flesh rising up between his legs. An apple sized sac hanging below it. “How–!”

“My trousers are a little less tight than they appear. A little tailoring trick. I would be a little distracting in ordinary clothing.”

That wasn't the question! But no, she was a professional. She told herself, she could handle this. A penis was a penis, no matter how intimidating. Gently at first, she took him in hand– In both hands. Gods! Fine. In both hands she gently began stroking him, leaning down to put her mouth on his sac, tongue swirling around a heavy testicle. A pleased grunt from him reassured her, she could handle this.

So she thought, until she got to the main attraction of this kind of play. No matter what way she considered it, she didn't know how she would fit that massive meat monster in her mouth. With trepidation, she wrapped her lips around the tip, worrying that would be as far as this would go, before trying to press downward. Strangely enough, despite how implausible it seemed, the great shaft slid inside. Not easily. It was a tight fit to be certain. And yet she could suck this cock just as well as any others she had dealt with. She took it as a blessing, glad that the fun wouldn't end on such a disappointing note. With joy she would have thought impossible earlier that evening, she brought all of her skills to bear, working him like the experienced woman she was. And with how big he was there was plenty of room to wrap her breasts around the base as she suckled on the head.

“Mmn!” was all of the warning she got before he grabbed hold of her hair bun, keeping her in place as his hips jerked upward. The salty tang of a man's release filled her mouth, more and more, a deluge of white spilling all over her tongue, spraying out from the seal of her lips.

His lap was a mess when she was finally allowed to come up for air, sprayed with saliva and cum. In an attempt to add a little extra appeal, she lapped up the leftovers, willingly swallowing it. It wasn't something she normally did. No one cared if she swallowed or not since they couldn't see it normally. But she felt... She wanted to make him happy. Like he made her happy.

Once she was finally finished with her self-assigned task of cleaning him he was ready for more. Pulling her panties off, she was finally bare. A full two hours after she thought she would be. Climbing back atop him, she slid his rejuvenated hardness against her sex. “It's... Been a while since I last... You know,” she admitted with baffling bashfulness given what she had just done.

“Take your time,” he told her.

It was permission she would have begged for. She was practiced with oral. It was surprising she could pleasure him that way but not implausible. But... It had been a long time since someone had entered her most sacred place.

Having prepared herself as much as was reasonable, she slid up against his cock one final time, letting it rest against her flower. As she let her weight sink downward, her petals spread apart, her teeth clamped down on her lower lip as her slick passage welcomed a monster. She could practically feel his heartbeat through it the pressure on her insides was so intense. More and more of this... This wonderful organ disappeared inside her, she felt her inner walls forced to stretch to accommodate it. And yet there was no pain. Only the wonderful friction as this magnificent cock ground against every millimetre, reshaping every contour of her pussy. It was... heavenly.

Before she even realised it, she had hit the base. All of him was inside her. She paid no mind to the clear impression of his enormous cock could be seen against her skin. All she cared about was the frisson of friction had gone away. All of a sudden she was gleefully, eagerly riding that cock she had been terrified of only moments ago. Her breasts bounced heavily as she rose and fell at a rapid pace, bouncing on his shaft, glad to let it reshape her body, to ruin her for other men.

Were her mind not melting from ecstasy, she might have seen her partner's understanding mask slip, seen just a hint of his true nature. But instead, all she could do was beg for more as his hands on her hips slammed her even harder down on his cock.

She couldn't have given an exact moment when the world disappeared for her, when everything blurred together into a rapturous haze. All she could confirm was the feel of hot seed pumping directly into her womb was a sensation she had missed, and an order of magnitude better when it was James' giant cock filling her with an equally giant load.

Hours later, she awoke. She had been tucked into the bed. Naked, sticky. Sat once again at that side table, James sat fully dressed nursing another saucer of alcohol. “Ah, you're awake.”

“What happened?” she asked, though the delightful tingling soreness between her legs was more than a clue.

“It seems the, ah, excitement, was perhaps a little much for you in the moment,” he answered, setting down his saucer and standing to walk toward the bed. “I thought I would make sure you were well before I took my leave.”

“I– You're leaving?” she asked, barely stopping herself from begging him to stay.

“I had a wonderful time, An,” he said, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead, then again on the lips as she pulled him down for that purpose, not satisfied with such a chaste goodbye. As he started to make his way toward the door again that same desire to beg him not to go resurfaced.

And then he didn't. He stopped halfway to the door. “That money...” he trailed off, “It's enough to buy flight tickets. For you and your girls. I'll be in Vale if you want a fresh start somewhere new.” He turned back to smile at her. “I hear good things about Beacon Academy too.”

And then, with the clunk of a door latch locking into place, she was alone. Her job was done. She got out of the bed, gathered her clothes and dressed, then left the premises with her earnings.

And as she walked home, she felt an emptiness wholly unlike the one she usually experienced. A feeling of longing.