Breakfast was eye-opening, a surprise in a world that had been a game only hours past. The hostess - yes, hostess - offered a simple menu from which both he and Hugh selected the Great Breakfast: a sampling of the inn’s morning fare including pancakes, sausage, bacon done to your liking, hash browns, and biscuits and gravy. The pancakes came with pats of butter and a warm carafe of maple syrup. They provided an ample mug of orange juice, on the house. The orange juice itself made no sense; he couldn’t recall an appropriate climate for producing oranges in Sarul and neither of them had ever encountered an orange in the game world before.
Not that they were complaining.
The inn had always offered stew, stew and more stew whether breakfast, lunch, or dinner. The basic starter town had little to offer in variety. The hostess was also new, more something you’d expect from an earth-side diner than a fantasy inn.
Not that they were complaining.
Her ample bust spilled out of the low-cut bodice and the hang of her purple and red dress complimented her curves. Keeping with the outrageousness of the scenario, the hostess was clad in six-inch fuck-me heels that would not have been out of place in a nicer strip club. In short, this had to be the work of Hecate.
When she brought the food over to their table, overburdened by large oval platters and generous earthen mugs, the hostess smiled at him, her eyes catching and locking onto his while ignoring Hugh. She leaned forward when placing his platter before him, pointedly pushing her cleavage towards him, smiling all the while.
He felt a stirring in his crotch that he tried to ignore as she circled around the table, whisking a pure white cloth from a dark belt encircling her slim waist, coming up from behind him while brushing her breasts against his arm, and smoothing out the napkin across his lap, seeming to brush against the growing erection there several times, much to his pleasure and agony.
He almost, but didn’t, let out a small groan, glancing up embarrassedly to look across the table at a grinning Hugh, who took in his discomfort with a look of contentment. She patted his cock one more time - she was definitely taking notice of his disturbingly hard erection - and he decisively whipped his head to the side to meet her gaze. Her eyes were an azure blue against a chaste white, and they met his own eyes with an earnestness that all but announced to the room that she wanted more than anything to rip his clothing from him and pleasure him with her lush body.
So, he thought, this was both the workings of Hecate and the benefit of an unseemly Charisma for a small starter village. Only, what was her Charisma that all he could think about as their eyes connected was pushing away from the table, pulling her up the stairs to his room, and getting his dick very, very wet? She had an incredible body, this much was true, but he could barely restrain himself and, somehow, he knew that restraining himself was important. The moment passed, and she looked a bit disappointed. With a flounce and a sway of her hip, the buxom hostess sauntered back to the kitchen.
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Once out of sight, he could turn his attention to the unprecedented spread of delicious and aromatic breakfast foods. Glancing at Hugh for but a sliver of a moment, he tucked into the morning repast and spared not a thought to the sexy hostess until his stomach was almost painfully full.
No sooner had he pushed away the platter and the crumbs it contained then the young, nubile woman appeared before him as if by an act of magic, or a goddess, and she was removing the platters from the table. All he saw of her was her magnificent ass as she disappeared into the kitchen. Hugh guffawed from his side of the table, meeting Clyde’s glance and grimacing.
“You’d have to be an actual monk, asexual, or a complete idiot to not notice that woman wants to fuck you, and I don’t believe you are any of those things.”
They both shared a laugh, before Clyde begrudgingly admitted, “Yeah, I know. The way she was all but giving me a hand job with the napkin on my lap made it obvious. I’m guessing Hecate placed her here so I could find the first member of my coven.”
Hugh looked at him dubiously. “You’re not complaining. Tell me you’re not complaining. That woman is the second most gorgeous woman I’ve been in the same room with. I’d cut off my left hand to be with her. Hell, she might convince me to cut off my right hand, and that’s my d hand.”
Clyde laughed, his eyes shining at that moment, “I’d give my left nut to be with her. No, I’m not complaining. Maybe a little uncomfortable with feeling manipulated. But no worries, my friend. You head upstairs. I’ll take care of the bill and close the deal. I’m not a complete idiot.”
Hugh agreed on principle that he may not be a complete idiot, stood, and took to the stairs without another word. As if on cue, the busty waitress slipped from the kitchen and slinked over to his table.
“I hope everything was to your satisfaction, sir. If it wasn’t I’m sure I can help with satisfying you,” she said, her voice low and sultry, but he felt she was trying too hard, and couldn’t help but wonder why.
So he asked her why she seemed to be trying so hard.
Briefly, she looked offended and hurt, but her face smoothed, and she met his eyes evenly. For the first time, he felt as if he was seeing the woman behind the sultry mask.
“Hecate told me you’d be here, master. I wish to join your coven and ascend to power alongside you if you’d have me. She said you were kind of a pervert.”
Clyde grimaced, shrinking back into his seat. “And did she tell you anything else? Oh, I’m Silas. Nice to meet you.”
She curtsied, which was adorable and sexy, replying, “I’m Trixy. Yes, that’s my real name. Everyone always asks me, but that’s what my ma named me. No, Hecate only told me that if I wanted to find true power, and to get out of this stupid starter town, that I’d seek old man Hubert, get a job as the hostess here and serve your breakfast on this morning.”
“Well, congratulations. Those are some damn specific instructions. You’re already better off than me in that department.” He laughed. “It really is nice to meet you, Trixy. I’m not really a pervert. I think I’m a nice guy.”
“Oh,” she laughed and brought a hand to her chest, “they always do. You’ll remember I felt your hard cock under that napkin, Sir Warlock, so I know you’re every bit the pervert the goddess made you out to be.”
As if to mock his intentions and to verify her own claim his cock firmed in his loose pants, tenting the fabric within seconds. She peered over the table, catching sight of his erection and murmured, “Mmmhmmm. That's what she warned me about. You’re as horny as a fifteen-year-old, aren’t you? It’s okay, Master. We can go upstairs after I let Cookie know I’m quitting this dead-end job and take care of that right away. I’ve just the right ointment to ease your affliction. I keep it between my thighs.”
Her earthy laugh set his mind afire, and he woodenly paid for the breakfast, rising from the table, and moving up the stairs to his room. Trixy promised she’d follow him soon after.