The evening found the tavern chaotic. Larl had been kept at Trev's feet most of the night. She had only served him and one other man. She actually enjoyed sitting at his feet, having him gently stroke through her hair like some cherished pet. They had talked quietly amongst themselves when other men weren't near and he had a funny charm to him. She learned that he owned no personal slaves with no desire to, that he had a free companion that had once been his love slave, and that he had many friends but none he trusted.
She watched as Turok entered; his slave Kieke at his heels. When he settled in his chair with Kieke at his feet the ebony haired girl looked over to Larl and sneered. Her stare and narrowed gaze made it clear that she did not like the new kajira.
Trev saw it as well, "don't mind her larl; she isn't used to competition. That girl has always held high esteem around here; she barely knows she's a beast at all."
The tone in his voice said everything his words didn't. Larl smiled and chuckled softly at his comment as he again ran his fingers softly through her mane.
The door opening caught Larl's attention. A strong man entered, young, extremely handsome. His eyes were dark onyx and his hair so black it rivaled the night of no moons. His sight sent shivers through Larl and she purred softly to herself as she watched him walk in; his presence over whelming.
The other tavern kajira were quick to straighten up their positions and open thighs wider, sly smiles and shifting of their torsos to draw the eye to luscious breasts. He simply passed them by and looked down at them shaking his head and taking in the view.
Larl was so consumed in him she hadn't noticed Trev stand to greet him. As the young dream came closer they grasped arms and took each other's shoulder.
"Trev, so good to see You once again. My father sends His regards."
"I'd rather Him send the money He owes Me, but Who's keeping track these days."
Both laughed loudly.
"Come boy, sit with Me. Let My new kajira get You a drink."
The youthful Gorean sat across from Trev, his eyes falling down to Larl. His smile broadened. "Now that is a beauty. Bet You paid well for it." Not turning his gaze he raised his brow and sneered, "Is it any good? I mean, in the furs?"
Trev laughed heartily, "Dane, aren't You a bit young to be judging the use of a girl? They should all be good to You!"
Larl's heart pounded as the man's eyes never left her, she felt him tearing right through her soul.
"It's been a while since Our last visit old man, You shouldn't judge Me as the boy You once knew. Chilled ale girl."
Larl nodded and repeated his order. She backed off the furs she knelt upon and turned skillfully away and off to the kitchen. As she walked away from the table she also passed Turok and Kieke. A coy smile covered her lips as she ran tender fingers up her sides, lifting her hair from her sculpted back and fine curved ass. The crimson silks fluttering around her lush thighs. She looked over her shoulder as dainty fingers let the wild tendrils fall slowly down her back, cascading in a slow flow of lava. Kieke's eyes were burning, and she couldn't help but notice Turok's filled with desire. Sliding in behind the high counter Trev and Dane eyed her as well, both smiling at her grace.
She quickly set to finding a suitable horn. A black one caught her eye. It was carved with a large tarn, silver dipped in the cuts making the bird come alive. The rim was also lined with thick silver. She looked over every cut and smooth surface, searching for flaws. Her emerald eyes looked directly to Dane as she pulled the silks around her right breast low, revealing the creamy full feast and taut nub. She shivered as the rim moved over the silken flesh, her heart skipping at the touch. Dane licked his lips watching her.
Replacing her silks she cleaned the horn and turned to the coolery. An easy tug opened the door and she quickly stepped into the frigid air of the cold storage room. The ale was kept in large casks in the back. She held the horn underneath and twisted the tap letting the golden brew flow into its vessel, once near full she stopped the tap and fled the hostile cold.
She pushed her tush to the door and thrust back, the door thudded closed behind her. With the horn held close to her tight belly she left the kitchen, deep emerald pools fixed on the new man sitting at Trev's table. He was so young, she guessed not much older than herself. And she was struck by the way he had spoken to Trev and herself. It was funny that referring to her as an "it," something so impersonal, would actually captivate her.
As she walked across the open floor she felt that slave fire stir in her belly. She knew that feeling, and she knew there was only one way to quench it if she let it consume her, but to suppress it was impossible. Her sultry hips swung as she drew nearer to him, slender legs moved her effortlessly, and she felt other eyes upon her so she added her own heat to the fire already showing, a gentle toss of her thick mane, removing it from her shoulders, letting it frame the perfect ivory canvas and feminine lines and curves. She knew her skin was speckled with the effects of the coolery; she knew very well what it was that men wanted.
She lowered to kneel at his feet, opening her creamy thighs wide; her moistened petals in clear wanting view of his dark gaze. A devilish smile while batting thick lashes, she rolled her shoulders back and offered up her delectable bosom and deep cleavage, pushing them close to him, for his ease to reach. The horn was raised from her heated belly to her heart and then in outstretched arms as her head fell between them.
"Master, this girl hopes the ale is refreshing and her serve was intoxicating."
He drank in her beauty, watching every move she made as Trev rambled in his ear about past stories and battles. He was also aware of the other men that watched her, wanted her. She was so young; kajirae were given anti-aging serum, but he could tell she truly was young, even the serum isn't flawless. He had been with many slaves since becoming a tarnsman. His father had given him two of his own when he took to the skies, but never had he been with something so fresh. He quickly interrupted Trev in midsentence before the girl got back.
"How much?"
"What?"
"For the girl, for her use? I am sure she isn't merely the cost of a drink. I want her, so how much?"
"Four copper tarsks"
As she settled at his boots he nodded to Trev and looked down on her, ready to take her now. He took the horn and drank deep from it. "Aye girl, quite intoxicating."
She settled her palms upon her thighs and slowly raised her silks up her thighs, the view of her honeysuckle calling to his eyes. He reached his hands down and slowly ran a finger through the soft petals, bringing the honey to his lips.
Larl's thighs opened even further as his hand reached between her succulent thighs, she even pushed her pelvis into his hand. That's exactly what she needed, to be used by someone other than Turok.
