The soft knock echoed through the wooden door of my modest room at the back of the tavern.
"Abel, dear? Dinner's almost ready," came Belle's voice, warm and teasing, muffled slightly by the door. "I promised you something special, remember? Come on out before it gets cold."
I stood up, brushing off his simple tunic. The day's events had left me hungry in more ways than one. I opened the door to find Belle standing there, her cowkin ears twitching atop her head, a playful smile on her full lips.
Her tavern wench uniform hugged her curves tightly: a low-cut bodice that strained against her large breasts, the fabric a deep crimson with white lacing that barely contained her cleavage. The skirt flared out just enough to sway with her hips, and her tail swished lazily behind her.
"Couldn't keep a girl waiting, could you?" she said, her eyes sparkling as she looked me up and down. She reached out and tucked a stray lock of my hair behind my ear, her fingers lingering a touch too long on my cheek. "You've been cooped up in there since you came back. Come, let me take care of you."
I felt a flush creep up my neck, but I nodded, following her down the narrow hallway toward the tavern's kitchen.
The place was empty now; most villagers had eaten earlier and gone home.
leaving the space dimly lit by a few lanterns and the glow of the hearth. The air smelled of herbs and roasting meat, making my stomach rumble.
Belle led me to a small table near the kitchen counter, pulling out a chair for me with exaggerated courtesy. "Sit, sit. I'll whip this up quick. Nothing fancy, but it'll stick to your ribs."
She turned to the stove, her tail flicking as she busied herself. I watched her move, the way her breasts bounced slightly with each stir of the pot, the uniform's neckline dipping lower as she leaned over.
"What're you making?" I asked, trying to sound casual.
She glanced over her shoulder, winking. "A village favorite: stewed rabbit with root vegetables and fresh bread. Tender meat, just like I like my men." Her laugh was light, but her gaze held a heat that made me shift in my seat.
She chopped carrots with quick, precise strokes, her hips swaying to some unspoken rhythm. "You know, in this world, men like you are rare. We women... we don't waste time. If we see something we want, we go for it."
I swallowed, my eyes drawn to the curve of her ass as she bent to grab spices from a low shelf. "Yeah, the goddess mentioned that. Women outnumbering men."
"Mm-hmm," Belle hummed, adding a handful of herbs to the pot. The aroma intensified, savory and rich. She stirred vigorously, her breasts jiggling with the motion. "Twenty to one, they say. Makes you a treasure, Abel. And treasures deserve to be pampered."
She plated the stew first, ladling generous portions into bowls, then sliced thick chunks of crusty bread, slathering them with butter. As she set the food in front of me, her hand brushed my arm, sending a spark through me.
"Dig in," she urged, sliding into the chair across from me. But instead of eating right away, she leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin in her hands. Her cleavage was impossible to ignore, the soft swell of her breasts rising and falling with her breath.
"Tell me about yourself. Celine said you're from... another world? Must be lonely, waking up here all alone."
I took a bite of the stew, the meat melting on his tongue, flavored with thyme and garlic. It was delicious, hearty and warming. "Not really, Back home, I was just a guy with a hard hat and a toolbox. Here, I've got this crafting thing going on. It's like a game, but real."
I explained a bit about the workbench, how I could refine ores or build tools, keeping it simple.
Belle's eyes lit up as she finally started eating, but her foot nudged mine under the table, a gentle press against my calf. "Sounds handy. A man who can make things... that's attractive. Very attractive."
She licked a bit of broth from her spoon slowly, her tongue tracing the edge. "Bet you could fix up my tavern in no time. Or... other things that need fixing."
The flirting was blatant, but laced with genuine warmth. I felt my cock twitch in my pants, the heat building as her foot slid higher, rubbing along my inner thigh.
I tried to focus on the bread, tearing off a piece, but her words pulled me back. "Like what?" I asked, voice a little rougher.
She grinned, setting her spoon down. "Oh, you know. Loose hinges. Squeaky beds." Her foot pressed firmer now, inches from my growing erection.
The stew was gone from her bowl, but she didn't move to clear it. Instead, she slipped from her chair and knelt beside me, her hands on my knees. "You've barely touched your food yet, Abel. Let me help with that."
Before I could respond, she pushed my chair back slightly and ducked under the table, her cow ears brushing the underside. My heart pounded as I felt her fingers work at my belt, unfastening it with practiced ease.
"Belle, what—" I started, but her warm breath against my thigh silenced me.
"Shush, handsome," she murmured, tugging my pants down just enough to free my cock. It sprang out, already half-hard from her teasing, thickening in the cool air of the tavern.
Belle's eyes gleamed up at me from under the tablecloth as she wrapped her soft hand around the base, stroking slowly. "You've had a long day. Let me make it better."
Her tongue flicked out first, lapping at the head, tasting the bead of pre-cum there. I gripped the edge of the table, the unfinished stew forgotten as pleasure shot through me.
Belle's mouth was hot and wet, her lips parting to take me in. She sucked gently at first, her tongue swirling around the shaft, tracing the vein underneath. Her large breasts pressed against my legs as she leaned in, the fabric of her uniform rough against my skin.
I groaned, my hips bucking slightly. Belle hummed in response, the vibration sending jolts up my spine.
She took more of me, her head bobbing steadily, lips stretching around my girth. Saliva dripped down my length, making each slide slicker. She used her hand to pump what her mouth couldn't reach, twisting lightly, her other hand cupping my balls, rolling them gently.
The sounds were obscene: wet slurps and soft moans from Belle, my ragged breaths above the table. She picked up the pace, sucking harder, her cheeks hollowing as she deep-throated me, nose brushing my pubic bone.
My hand dropped under the table, taking her by the horns, guiding her rhythm. She didn't resist, instead moaning around my cock, the vibration pushing me closer to the edge.
"Fuck, Belle," I whispered, thighs tensing. She responded by swirling her tongue faster, hollowing her cheeks even more, urging me on.
Her tail swished against the floor, a sign of her own arousal. I felt the pressure build, my balls tightening in her grasp.
With a low grunt, I came, spilling hot cum into her mouth. Belle swallowed greedily, not spilling a drop, her throat working around me as she milked every pulse.
She pulled back slowly, licking me clean, then planted a soft kiss on the tip before emerging from under the table, lips shiny and satisfied.
"Dessert," she said with a wink, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes bright.
She walked over to the basin and began washing her hands and mouth.
She turned once more. "Now, finish your stew before it gets cold for real."