A good waitress always earns a tip. The tavern is home to Ellen, but she longs to travel. To fund her wanderlust and quench her other lusts, she seeks payment and pleasure from the patrons of her establishment.

Ellen (One)

When he pulled out of me I let out a disappointed groan. He interpreted it for pleasure and gave me a knowing smile and another hot kiss, his teeth nipping at my lips. A good kisser he was, but not so much in other departments. He’d been too fast and too focused on his own pleasure based on the sticky substance running down my leg. That wouldn’t do. The night was still young and waiting tables with a gentleman’s seed running out of me was not pleasant.

I broke the kiss and pulled the handkerchief from his shirt pocket. He watched me glassy eyed as I hiked up my skirt and wiped myself clean. He looked on with a cute little wrinkle between his eyebrows as I folded the cloth and stuffed it back in his pocket. I patted his chest twice. “Something to remember me by,” I said with a smile and tucked my assets back in the front of my blouse.

He blinked twice and backed up, allowing me to climb down from the crate. A few adjustments to my skirts and everything was back in place, my belt pocket a few coins heavier. It only took me two quick steps to find the door to the storeroom, and I turned back and gave the sandy-haired caravan guard one last pouty smile as he stood there, his limp member still handing free.

I went back to work.

“Ellen, table six needs another round,” Margaree called to me when I burst out into the noisy and chaotic tavern. I gave her a nod and headed to the bar on the opposite side of the room.

I made a mental note to pick better next time. The sandy-haired caravan guard hadn’t seemed inexperienced when he’d been massaging my butt through my skirts while I took the orders of his comrades, but maybe quick and one sided was what he thought sex was all about. I sent a silent prayer to the gods for any woman he ever cajoled into marriage.

I filled a large pitcher with ale and made my way to table six.

“How are we doing, gentle lads and warrior ladies?” I asked as I filled mugs and stacked empty plates.

“We’re alive,” the female elf said darkly as one of her companions, a caramel skinned human, bowed his head in solidarity.

I bowed my head in reply before scooping up the empty plates and returning to the kitchen. Where before their table usually sat five, today they only had four, and Filip, the caramel skinned human had a fresh scar running across his cheek. He wouldn’t turn to me for comfort. We had shared a crate in the storeroom a time or two before, but our meetings were usually celebrations after a win.

The missing companion was a quiet kid, pale skin and brown hair. He’d hired on with their caravan three or four years before. It was a shame. Kids who made it past a year on the road usually lasted a bit longer, but such were the risks of those who wandered, or those who guarded the wanderers.

I was almost one of those who hadn’t made it a full year. Maybe I wouldn’t have if it wasn’t for the Tavern, and for Rav . . .

I took a deep breath and pushed thoughts of Rav out of my mind. He hadn’t stopped by the Tavern for the last six months or so, and on a night like this, when I was so deeply unsatisfied, thoughts of him would only make it that much worse.

I took my empty dishes to the long pass-through window separating the kitchen from the dining room and set the plates on the sill. One of the kitchen helpers scooped them up and ferreted them away to the sink before they had barely stopped rattling, but I waited a moment longer until I caught Kem’s eye. Seeing me waiting, the old man gave a little nod and finished up the dish he was cooking.

Kem was a good man. When I speak of the Tavern being part of the reason I’m still alive, I really mean Kem and the world he’s built under this thatched roof. It was a safe place for any to eat, sleep, or make a living. He hired anyone in need who would work hard, and he had a shrewd eye for such things. It was the only thing outside of his kitchen he had an eye for. He cared not for any part of his business outside of the kitchen, leaving the running of things in the hands of his long-time employees like Margaree.

His food was good.

Legendary.

It was the reason there was only ever one Tavern anyone spoke of in such broad terms. The other reason came down to location. The Tavern sat between a crossroads of anywhere and everywhere. Our world ran on commerce and trade, and anyone who went anywhere passed through the crossroads a few times a year.

When the dishes he was plating were complete, Kem set them on the sill and rang a little bell, calling out to a maid, and startling me out of my daydreams.

“What can I do for you Ellen?” Kem asked.

I bent my head towards table six, and Kem’s sharp eyes found the table of guards with their heads bent heavy over their drinks.

“Some regulars had a bad job and could use a little cheering,” I said.

Kem nodded and disappeared back into the kitchen as a maid, a short blond girl with a mess of freckles, whose name I hadn’t yet caught, picked up the new plates and scurried off. I made a mental note to introduce myself. She looked young, and I knew what it was like to find yourself in a new place with no smiling faces.

I set out when I was a little younger than her. I was sixteen and had everything I owned in my pack. I wanted to see the world, have an adventure. As many inexperienced kids trying to get their feet wet did, I traveled with a caravan for a time, paying more for the convenience than a caravan guard usually made in three months. We toured the Wasting Woods and the hot springs where the old fountain of youth was rumored to be when I decided to part ways with the caravan. My purse was getting light, and I’d expected it to stretch a few years, not a few weeks. I traveled on foot for a time, following a bard or other small groups of travelers who seemed to know what they were doing, when at last I found myself in a small town, separated from any big party and looking for a room for the night. That’s when some drunk caught me flashing too much coin and decided to relieve me of my burden and teach me a thing or two about self defence through trial and error.

That was when Rav showed up, all leather and muscle under a black cape. He was handsome, a few years older than me, and he knew a few healing spells. Got me patched up and said he knew a place I could find work. He fed me the three days it took me to recover and paid my way on a caravan to the Tavern. Kem took one look at me and offered me a job.

Kem returned with a tray filled with steaming turnovers that smelled divine. I thanked him and made my way back to table six. I had to dodge a few arms, legs and tails as patrons tried to steal a turnover, taking orders as I went.

When I dropped the platter in the center of the table, four sets of eyes looked up at me like I offered a gift from the gods. Fillip’s eyes met mine, and he nodded with gratitude. I gave him a soft smile and returned to filling orders and carrying dishes. Maybe the next time Fillip’s crew came through the tavern, he would be ready for a good time again. He was the sort of man who could make a woman happy. He was the kind of man I’d consider marrying if he ever offered, but only if I could go along on his adventures.

I wasn’t happy staying in one place for too long. When I first came to the tavern I was bruised inside and out, but not unwilling to learn. I learned how to haggle, and how to stand up against a sweet talker. I learned how to fight and protect myself, and after I’d saved up enough gold I set out again to see the world, this time venturing to the badlands. A three-week trip to one of the most beautiful places under the sun, and when my purse ran low, I returned to the Tavern where I knew a place would always wait for me.

“Oi! Ellen, my sweet,” a man called out behind me. I turned and gave Navin a big smile as I dropped a few plates at a nearby table. “Get me another bowl of whatever the hell this was, will you?” he called.

I nodded and filled a few more mugs before heading for the kitchen pass-through. When I returned, bowl in hand, Navin wrapped a big powerful arm around my waist, his fingers warm and nimble on my hip.

“Tell us fair Ellen, where next your travels will lead you?” he asked in the deep baritone voice common among dwarf men.

I smiled and leaned into him, letting his hand trail further down my hip. Maybe Navin would be the one to satisfy other cravings for the night. I’d never had him before, but I knew for a fact dwarf men were not lacking anything in length below the belt. Navin was playful; he’d been everywhere in the known world, and a few places unknown he wouldn’t talk about. He enjoyed hearing of my adventures and satisfied my wanderlust by giving me tips and notes about this location or that.

“I was thinking of traveling to the mountains this time, but I haven't decided between the pixy falls or the caverns in the east.” Navin’s companions all jumped in with their opinions, debating one location or another as I knew they would until someone else called out, and I left Navin’s side to fill a few more orders.

The little bell over the door chimed, and I glanced as the night air came rushing in. I needed to stop doing that. Looking every time the door opened, hoping, expecting to see Rav.

Ten months after I first came to the tavern, Rav came back. I’d started to think he was just a memory, a wraith in the night who’d rushed in to save me and set me on the right path, but there he was, one early morning while Margaree taught me to fight with a staff, his cloak casting shadows over his handsome face.

“I see you’ve learned a thing or two,” he said. “Care to show me more?”

Margaree handed him a staff and fled inside with a bad excuse. He put me through my paces, taught me a few tricks I practiced later, and then after we were hot and sweaty he pushed me up against the back wall of the tavern behind the stables and kissed me. It was my first kiss, and it was all we did that time. He stayed for lunch and was gone before the evening rush set in, but he returned every few months as he took jobs across the land.

The man standing in the doorway was not Rav, but he was tall and lean, with light hair and cinnamon dark skin. His open cloak showed a muscular chest and strong thighs. Our eyes connected, his, a pretty gold color common among the elves, and I smiled before filling another order.

Yeah, he’d do.

Margaree cornered me before my next break, a knowing smile on her lips. “Our sandy-haired man over at table twelve sure has a big grin on his face. How was he?” she asked.

I glanced at the table and sure enough, mister ninety seconds was grinning wide eyed. “I’d almost forgotten about him,” I said honestly.

“That bad?”

I rolled my eyes. “That boring.” I nodded towards the bar where the elf man sat. “But have you seen what the night blew in? He doesn’t look boring.”

Margaree gave me a look. “Two in one night? You know this isn’t a whorehouse, right?”

“Of course,” I said lightly. “Just two consensual adults making a quick business transaction. No expectations, just a romp then I’m a few coins closer to my next trip.”

Margaree shook her head knowingly and pulled down the ruffle of my dress until an extra inch of cleavage showed. “Have fun.”

I smiled. “That’s the goal.”

I sauntered up to the bar and leaned in next to the elf. “How are you finding everything tonight, sir?”

His eyes rose to mine and connected with a small spark. He smiled, showing white teeth and a dimple.

Oh, he was cute.

I took a deep breath, letting my chest rise a little more than natural, and left my cleavage in the advanced position.

“The food is amazing,” he said, and his eyes trailed ever so gently down to the peaks along the top of my dress. His eyes flicked back up to mine, and I smiled.

I lifted my hand to his shoulder and let my fingers trail down his biceps. “And the service? How was the service?” I asked.

It didn’t take long to get my point across, and before I knew it he was leaving his seat behind and following me out the back door of the Tavern as I tucked his coins into my belt purse.

When we reached the dark space between the Tavern and the stables, he needed no prompting and pushed me up against the wall. When our lips met, I tasted ale and turnovers and fire raced down my stomach to my center. I wrapped my hands in the short hair at the back of his head and hung on as he dipped his head and nipped at my neck. The roughness of his teeth felt so good against my hot skin.

I wanted more.

I ran my fingers through his hair and stroked the edge of one pointed ear. He growled and bit my neck again, hard but not hard enough to leave a mark. He tugged at my breast until it was free of its confines, and he licked and nipped at my nipple, sending tiny electric blasts down my center. I ran my hands down his front, feeling his sculpted chest, and the hard length of him through his leather pants. I ran my hand over him a few times, and he moaned into my breasts. I unfastened his belt with practiced speed and reached into his pants. My fingers met hard, silky skin, and I pulled him out.

He was long and thick, and when I pumped my hand down his shaft, he moaned again and bit my nipple. Finally, he had enough and pushed me hard against the wall. He roughly hiked up my skirts, and I gathered them at my waist. He leaned in until the tip of his member met my lips and he moved himself up and down slowly. Frustrated, I looked up and met his eyes to see him watching me like a predator.

“Tell me,” he said in a growl.

I let out a ragged breath and tried to lean into him, force him through my folds, but he held me firm against the wall.

“Tell me what you want,” he ordered again.

“I want you to fuck me,” I replied. He forced himself through my wet lips in one powerful thrust and hit his mark. I inhaled and held my breath as he sank in a few inches, his girth stretching me. He held my eyes with his, his look intense as he backed out an inch, and then plunged in again. He repeated the movement until he sank up to the hilt.

He built his rhythm, moving in and out of me, the only sound that of our bodies and our breathing.

After a few minutes of that slow, sultry pace, he reached down and grabbed my ass with both hands, pulling me up until all I could do was straddle him. He braced my weight with his powerful arms as I sank onto his shaft, and he went deeper than I imagined possible. I moaned, and he ate the sound with a kiss, biting my tongue.

We moved again, as he guided me up and down on his shaft, my legs wrapped tight around him, pulling him deeper with each thrust. I felt pressure building in my core and I let myself go, lost myself to the pace and feeling of the cold night air on my exposed breasts and his thick length moving inside of me. When it reached its peak, I threw my head back and let the orgasm take me, moaning into the night as he thrust harder and harder, faster and faster. As the shockwaves left my body, I looked back into his eyes to see them filled with cloudy focus, and I knew he was close. I leaned in and kissed his dimple, moved around and kissed his temple, then licked up the edge of his long ear. That sent him over the edge and he pounded into me, slamming me onto his cock. With a groan, he filled me with his warm come, pump after pump.

When he was spent, breathing heavy, he set me down, and my feet found the earth. He pulled out of me, and I felt both empty and full all at once, as his member shone in the moonlight, slick with our juices. Satisfied at last, I watched with interest as he carefully stuffed himself back in his pants. When he was situated, he leaned in and gave me another hot kiss. He squeezed my breast and slipped another, much larger coin into my hand with a wink. Then he turned back to the tavern and was gone.

Alone in the dark, I smiled and tucked the coin into my belt purse. It wouldn’t be long now before I had enough for my next trip.