This is my first "smut" short story that I decide to publish! Thanks you for taking some of your time to read what I've written so far :)
Lots of love,
Jynx
*****
The bard was sitting quietly, with a pint of mead in his hands. His companion the barbarian, thought that it was pretty unusual for him to be so quiet. Hell, he even looked like he was sleeping! Who could sleep in a inn that was packed and noisy like this one?
-"He must of had too much to drink", thought the big man with the axe.
But, the bard wasn't tired. He was actually concentrating all his energy past the yelling, laughing and the music. Past all that was a shady cloaked figure, discussing quietly with the innkeeper.
The bard actually heard quite the coin rustle in that hooded figure's pouch, when he had passed by closely and ordered a new pint. And now, he was focusing on mixing THAT coin with his.
Just waiting for the perfect time to strike.
Soon after, the bard had opened his eyes and chugged back the rest of his pint, staring bluntly at the mysterious figure. At the corner of his eye, he saw the barbarian frown than slouch back when he realised there was no more mead in his flaming mug.
His charismatic companion slammed a fistful of silver coins on the table and smiled at him.
-"Here you go, Donnovan. I'm going to get us rooms for the night. Drink up, my friend!"
The barbarian grabbed the silver and headed directly towards the bar with a triumphant laugh, shoving already seated people to the ground.
His friend the bard also got up, giving his companion a firm friendly slap on the shoulder and proceeded towards the innkeeper. He walked slowly, watching the mysterious stranger's movements, until it slyly gave the innkeeper a nod and a full gold coin. The bard smiled and pretended to be very interested by the singing minstrel, while the stranger passed by him, and headed towards the upper level of the inn, where the rented rooms were situated.
Strangely, an alluring smell of cinnamon emanated from the hooded stranger, and the bard couldn't help but to breath it in deep. He stared at the lithe figure until it disappeared from view. Shit! If that nice smell came from a woman, he might be in for more that just a nice pouch full of gold.
Just the thought of it gave his whole body a nice tingle. It had been so long since he last had a woman, just thinking about it was making his body temperature rise.
He took a couple of deep breaths to calm the fire in is loins, and climbed the stairs two by two with a grin.
The bard followed the cinnamon trail up to the last room of the corridor. He stopped when he noticed that the door wasn't close completely, a slight crack would make it possible for him to slide his fingers in and quietly open it.
He quickly ran his nervous fingers through his dark mane and slicked it back, practicing his charming speech over and over in his head, just in case. Then, he slowly push the door open, with just the tip of his fingers.
The door creaked open, and the bard stared into the darkness of the room. There was no movement, and the bed sheets seemed to still be flawlessy folded. If that smell of cinnamon wasn't creeping all over his now damp skin, he would have thought that he had mistakenly opened the wrong door. He carefully entered the room, closing the door behind him. His shoulders felt very heavy as he slowly started to search the room with his eyes. This room was warm, and very dark, and it seemed that the noises from the very crowed inn did not even reach it. It was eerily quiet.
