The waitress knelt in front of Cyril and began stroking his penis. The cock instantly swelled, became stronger and grew, showing patterns of sinuous veins. The head burned, demanding a caress. The woman wrapped her hand around the penis, and Cyril was surprised at how soft her hands were. The warm grip was pleasurable, but even more exciting.

She clearly knew what she was doing. Starting with stroking, continuing to slowly masturbate, she licked the head and took it in her mouth briefly, only to moisten it with saliva. Cyril did not press, giving himself up to pleasure. The woman took the penis out of her mouth and began to run her tongue along the entire length. Descending down, she touched her tongue to the scrotum, causing Cyril to moan.

"Fuck… So good." He moaned, closing his eyes. "I'm going to fuck the whole city up, just keep going, don't stop."

The woman began to work more vigorously, from time to time swallowing the penis deep enough into her soft throat, sometimes breaking off, so as not to stop jerking off, sucking eggs covered with thick hair. She really didn't care that the taste of unwashed loins was disgusting, that the hair remained in her mouth, tickling her throat, and she tried desperately to achieve her results.

The woman put her other hand under her dress and began to masturbate. After several times running her hand over the same untrimmed vulva, she quickly reached a hot arousal and began to release a natural lubricant. Speeding up, she soon slipped two fingers into her vagina and also began to moan, swallowing the penis deeper and deeper.

The forgotten warmth shot through Cyril, goose bumps ran down his body, and the face of his beloved wife loomed in front of his inner vision.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

We never had time to have a good vacation at sea, he thought, remembering the lost life. Egor would eat my mother's strawberries... And we'd be fucking like gaddamn rabbits in a fucking hotel!

"Oh, hell! Fuck me, whore, fuck me, goddamn slut!" He shouted, feeling he was coming.

The waitress was choking on saliva, her eyes were watering, she was fighting the gag reflex, but she was swallowing deeper, harder, sharper, fiercer, desperately. Her hand moved quickly under the hem of her dress, forcing her head to move faster as her own orgasm approached like an inner thunder. A shiver ran through her body, and her fingers got wetter, and at the same moment a thick shot filled her throat.

Coughing, she released her mouth, only to gulp down the mixture of saliva and cum and then lash out again at the still-hard cock, sucking it dry. She continued to stroke her clitoris, rubbing her lubricant with her hand, massaging her labia, continuing to suck more and more slowly.

Soon the flashes in their brains subsided. The shivering rippled through the body of both Cyril and the woman, and a strange, empty waitress in an unknown city, speaking an unknown language, now gently caressed the limp head with a completely understandable tongue, sometimes playing with his urethra.

It was over in less than five minutes. The waitress rose from her knees, ran the back of her hand over her lips, and smiled shyly.

"I'm sorry, I haven't had anyone for a long time." The waitress said, smiling for the first time. "My name is Freya."

"Nice to meet you, Freya. The boss decided to call me Cyril, so let it be."

He got up, pulled on his trousers, and went to the table to eat. She was still standing by the bed, looking at him with eyes that were no longer empty.

"Tell the boss I'll be down in a few minutes. Just gonna eat and piss out the window." He said, and sat down on the stool. "And tell me, which way is this dangerous forest?"

Freya nodded, smiling, and answered:

"When you leave the pub, take this street to the right. After a wide cross, there will be a left turn on the street of Gray Letters. It will lead you to the edge of the woods."

As she opened the door and stood on the threshold, she turned.

"Please be careful. I hope to see this place become known throughout the Kingdom."

"Uh-huh." Said Cyril, munching on a piece of lard in his scrambled eggs. "Necessarily."

If I continue to be so lucky, and I won't be able to die in peace.