Meat and Ale

By Emily Ryan

"Arela, more ale!"

The red-haired woman swept her way round the benches to Sinmir, expertly balancing a tray of tankards filled to the brim with amber liquid.

"Here you are, Sinmir, shall I put it on your tab or are you going to tip me?" Arela's tone was playful as she handed the Nord a full tankard of ale, making sure to flash him the tops of her cleavage when she leaned over to take his empty one.

"Oh, my dear, you know I always tip generously." he replied with a bit of a slur, slipping a few gold septims into the side pocket of Arela's skirt.

"That you do, my friend. Let me know if you need anything else." She gently pats his shoulder pauldron, sauntering around the crowded common room of the Bannered Mare.

Mikael and a traveling bard had struck up a merry tune. As the room filled with more people coming out of the cold evening air, the drinks went 'round, and the fire grew higher. The smell of roasting meat from the back room the 'Mare wafted through the air, baked potatoes and melted butter mingling with pipe smoke and sweet tobacco.

Arela made delicately through the crowed, greeting the regulars as friends and politely smiling at new faces. Returning to the bar, the busty vixen put her now empty tray down for Hulda. She began to fill it back up with full tankards.

"Quite a crowd tonight, many new faces. I've got Uthgerd on lookout in-case anyone tries to mess with you or Saadia." Hulda motioned toward the scowling, steal-clad behemoth over in her corner of the inn.

"I appreciate it, some people just don't have manners." Adjusting her under-bust corset from where it had twisted a bit around her torsom Arela scanned the people in the room. Most were regulars from within Whiterun or from the surrounding area of the Hold, but there were a few travelers she had never seen before.

A small group of them looked like mildly wealthy traders, sporting finer linens and silkier furs than some she had seen. The bard with Mikael performing on a lyre was a new face as well. He appeared to be green from the college, probably making his rounds Skyrim to get his name out. A woman with a flute joined them, the three beginning a beat a few people began to dance to.

Just as she was about to begin another round of drinks, the door of the 'Mare opened again, revealing a group of three Bosmers with bows, trailed by a man dressed in red leather and a long black traveling cloak. The elves Arela knew, some cousins of Eldrindir and Anoriath from over in The Drunken Huntsman. The man, however, she didn't recognize.

She liked his look; dark and mysterious. Watching him as he removed his thick leather gloves and cloak, Arela stalled for a bit as he approached the bar. Pretending to be busy organizing the tankards on the tray, listening to the stranger speak to Hulda.

"Would you happen to have a room available for the night?" his voice was soft and deep.

"As a matter of fact, I do. It's not much, but it does the job." Hulda wiped a spot of the countertop. "Ten gold a night, food and drink are separate."

The stranger brought out an exceptionally fat coin purse from the pouch on his belt, counting the coins onto the counter. "Ten septims plus a little extra for food and drink."

Hulda swept the gold up, counting it again. Satisfied with the amount, the old woman tucked it into her apron. "Arela here will see you to your room and get you meat and ale."

Arela smiled, taking the room key from Hulda, "Of course, follow me please, sir." She led him to the stairs on the far side of the inn. Once at the top, she led him down the hall past the other occupied rooms. The stranger's room was at the very end of the hall, the one in the corner.

"You'll find all that you will need up here." She unlocked the heavy wooden door. "Wash basin and fresh linens are on the stand, fresh water available on request." Pushing open the door, it revealed a standard Nordic style double bed, the faded green bed clothes worn but clean. The wash station in the corner was easy to spot, a table with two chairs occupied the main floor space across from it. "Take all the time you need to freshen up. Food and drink will be ready for you down stairs."

Arela took a moment to study the man as he walked around the room. He deposited his cloak on a hook by the door and dropping his gloves on the table. His strides were long and slow, each foot-fall precise and sure. The heavy leather of his boots creaked with every step. As he turned to survey the room again, facing Arela directly, she could take in his face.

His features weren't cut and chiseled, nor ragged and weather worn like many travelers. His cheeks had a slight, boyish roundness to them, his grey eyes kind. And yet, the red scruff covering most of his lower face suggested he was older than he looked. His eyes paused their roving to look at Arela. There was something…else in his gaze that made her shuffle her feet. A certain…primal heat behind those grey orbs.

"Unless, of course, you are weary and do not wish to mingle. I can bring your dinner and refreshment up here if you wish?" She asked.

For the first time that night the stranger spoke directly to Arela, his soft voice heavy, "Aye, I am weary. I would like my meal brought to me." He ran his fingers through his brown hair..

Arela gave a little curtsy. "I will return shortly, sir."

Back downstairs, the crowed was beginning to thin. The heavier drinkers, such as Sinmir and Commander Caius, would be drinking for a few hours more, but many of the patrons had gone back home or up to their rooms.

"Hulda, the stranger would like his meal in his room." The old woman behind the bar rolled her eyes. "Of course he would. With a coin purse like that I wouldn't want to eat with the common rabble either."

Arela turned to see the "common rabble" start up a tune about a wench and a bear, swaying side to side on their seats.

"What do you make of him?" Hulda asked, drawing the barmaid's attention back to her.

She thought for a moment, "Quiet and calculative, handsome and dashing. What can I say?"

The older woman gave her a look. "You want to bed him, don't you?"

Arela chewed on her thumb nail, doing a poor job at hiding a playful grin. "I would be lying if I said I hadn't thought about him bending me over the table."

Hulda finished putting a few more items on the tray. "Finish your work and you can do what you wish, just don't scare any of the customers."

The evening had waned on to where even Sinmir had stumbled his drunken arse home to bed. Arela made her way back up the stairs to the second floor of the 'Mare for the third time that night. She hadn't yet collected the stranger's dinner plates and tray. She purposefully waited for it to die down.

The other guests were asleep for the most part, every so often a high-pitched squeal or deep moan broke through the sound of the heavy rain that had begun to fall. The end of the hall was relatively quiet.

Arela knocked on the door, "Sir, I am here to collect the plates."

His voice from within the room granted her entry.

The adventurer had made himself at home, his boots in the corner by the washbasin, as well as a long-sword propped up the wall near the bedside. He had stripped himself of his armor, which now occupied one of the chairs. The food she had brought him earlier was gone, only a few crumbs littered the tray and table top.

"Was the food to your liking, sir?" Arela asked as she began to gather the empty plates onto the tray.

"It was," he replied, "thank you for such wonderful service."

She could hear him move across the room toward her. "Although," he continued, his voice now a little husky, "I do have to wonder, why so late in coming back up here?"

She could feel him standing mere feet from her back. She should have been a little frightened, a strange man being so suggestive with his tone, but she found herself a little weak at the knees, thighs quivering. Arela knew people, she had been around them all her life. She knew how to read them, and this man wasn't dangerous. Not to her. And if he tried anything, she'd burn his bullocks off with a snap of her fingers, simple as that.

Arela stopped stacking plates, leaning her palms pressed to the table, back straight, allowing her backside to protrude suggestively. "You seem like a smart man, sir. I am sure you already know the answer to that."

He was suddenly at her back, his front flush to her. His breath ghosted over the shell of her ear, hands roughly on her hips. "Is that so? Let's see if I am correct then, vixen."

The huskiness of his voice went straight to the apex of her thighs. Arela could feel the heat pooling in her lower belly, or was that just the wetness beneath her skirts? Hands firmly on her hips, he gently left hot kisses at the junction of her neck and shoulder. A shiver ran down her body, legs quivering again, begging for her to let him between them. His height advantage on her allowed him to grind the hard bulge in his trousers against her backside.

A puff of air escape Arela's lips with a soft moan. It had been a while since she had sought the attention of a man…

"Eager now, are we?" he inquired. Another shiver went down her body. She didn't reply. He waited a moment, then swiftly laced his fingers in her deep red hair, pulling her head back in a firm grip. "I asked you a question, pet."

His tone, serious with a playfulness that made her grin. "I am eager, sir." He kissed her cheek gently, tracing a line to her ear.

"Good."

The bight and tug to her earlobe turned Arela to jelly. Goosebumps erupted all down her body, her nerves coming alive under his ministrations. She moaned again, this time grinding back into his arousal.

A growl rose from his throat, a primal sound that made her lower belly coil in delight, a sound that went straight to her clit. His hands became rougher, running over her tight corset to where it sat snuggly under her bust. A hand strayed to the top of her loose chemise, going under the neckline to grasp her right breast.

He pulled her back tightly to him, and she loved it. The fingers in her clothing found her nipple, pinching it slightly, then rolling. The feeling again went straight though her belly. His other hand began to pull at the skirt layer up her left thigh, eventually finding her naked flesh beneath the fabric. Running his nails over her skin, she responded by reaching back and pulling his hair tightly.

The hand on her breast tugged the neckline of her chemise down, exposing her right shoulder and breast. His mouth latched onto the now exposed flesh, working his tongue and teeth. Arela's fingers in his hair pulled at him in delight, her moaning becoming higher, "Please, sir."

His mouth left her now red skin with a wet pop, "Please what, pet?"

She almost couldn't bring herself to ask. "Please please fuck me?"

He kissed her gently on the temple. "Since you asked so sweetly."

The empty plates and tray were swept from the table, crashing to the floor. Arela was bent over the table, her cheek and half naked upper body pressing into the cool wood. It felt good on her flushed skin. Her hands were soon held behind her back by one of his larger ones. Standing slightly on her tip toes, she felt his free hand pulling at her skirts again, hiking them up over her hips. The cool air of the room met her exposed backside, feeling it largely on the wetness between her thighs.

"I am flattered you find this so arousing, pet." His rough hand ran over the bare skin of her backside, causing Arela's skin to erupt in yet more goosebumps. She could feel his fingers travel inward, meeting her slick flesh. She tried grinding back into his hand for some sort of friction, groaning in disappointment when his leg firmly planted between her feet kept her from doing so.

She tried again, not being able to sit still and just wait. This time he allowed her some room to move, his fingertips brushing her most sensitive of places. He traced her slit lightly from top to bottom, just barely ghosting over the hot tender area.

Arela moaned in want, begging him to sink his fingers into her and relieve some of the tension from her body. His thumb pressed lightly into her entrance but retracted before going too far. Instead, his fingers pinched her clit lightly, causing her hips to jump involuntarily from the pressure. She wanted to beg him to do it again, but words weren't possible any more.

The fingertips traced her wetness up and down for a while longer, never quite giving enough pressure to satisfy, but teasing enough to build a boiling need in her belly. When Arela really began to believe he would spend the whole night teasing her into a mewling mess, two fingers sank deeply and easily into her entrance with a wet squelching sound. She keened, the stretching and pressure just felt so damn good. He allowed her to rock back on his hand, getting a little pressure on her clit. His fingers began to pump in and out of her heat, the rough fingertips adding much needed friction.

"Oh, Dibella, yes! Please don't stop." Arela begged.

He slowed his motions till he retracted his hand from her entirely. She began to protest and whine, but the sound of shifting clothing had her anticipating what was to come.

Arela felt something hard and hot against her backside. One hand still firmly holding her arms behind her back, the other manipulated his member through her wet, slick folds.

"What is it that you need?" he asked her gruffly.

She was tired of these games, but wanted to comply with his requests, "I need you to fuck me, sir, please."

He laughed, still teasing her entrance with his cock. "Is that a yes, pet?"

"Yes!" she keened again, grinding back into him as best she could.

Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her exposed shoulder. He began to press into her, the feeling completely and utterly delicious. Arela wanted, no, needed him to fuck her hard and fast, this tortuous slow pace was going to kill her. He took his time, however, making her wait before giving her what she wanted.

Working gradually, he slowly worked his throbbing cock deeper and deeper into her. The stretching she felt was wonderful, her mouth hanging open, puffs of air escaping with every labored breath.

Without warning, he pulled completely out then slammed into her, deeply burying himself in her heat. She cried out in pleasure. He did it again, slowly pulling out to the tip then slamming back in. This carried on a while longer till she was begging again. His pace quickened with each stroke, the hand restraining her arms now grasped at her hips while her gripped the edges of the table he was pounding her into.

It felt like forever with the room filled with the sound of wet flesh slapping together, when he reached around her hip and pressed his fingers to her clit. She bucked against him hard, wanting more and more and more. The delicious friction was mind numbing, her belly coiling tighter and tighter, every sensation going straight to her bundle of nerves.

His fingers moved faster, his thrusting becoming more and more erratic. She was almost there, just a little more…

Arela's orgasm hit hard, everything clenching and undulating in time with the waves of immaculate pleasure. Her hips rolled back into him, her muscles tightening and flexing, pulsing around his hard cock.

It wasn't too long after when his came as well. He pulled out fast, spilling his seed over her lower back, just barely missing cumming inside of her.

Their skin was slick with sweat and sex. Arela's skin tingled in delightfully numb way, her body racked with satisfaction. He cleaned off his mess from her skin, allowing her to finally rise from being bent over.

Her skirts fell back down. Pulling the top of her chemise back over her breast and shoulder, she took in his disheveled appearance. He had tucked himself back into his trousers, not bothering to lace them back up. His face was red with exertion, the front of his loose undershirt soaked with sweat. That was something Arela took pride in.

"Perhaps," she began, catching his attention, "after a quick drink, we could go for round two?"