THE FAVOR
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// by Kisupure
// SUMMARY: A john takes an interest in a rent-girl with a prosthetic to see if he has something to offer her other than money.

This is basically an ode to a smut "vibe" that I've loved for a long time. Imposing stranger with shy young virgin in a forced situation - but it works out OK in the end. Total guilty pleasure.

// TAGS: male pov, sex work, first time, maledom, size diff, age diff, emotional intimacy

// UPLOADED: 2021-01-08

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The stranger gently tapped his booted heels against the mat as he entered the building, dingy exterior hiding a clean operation inside. It wouldn't have been polite to track dirt.

"Welcome back, sir," a woman said, appearing from behind a curtain somewhere in the over-furnished waiting room. She glided over and held out her hand, into which he set a pair of unholstered guns and an ugly knife. Anyone else asking him to disarm like this would have lost a customer, but he knew he could trust this place. Trust her. She took them with a polite thanks and handed them to a young man standing in the corner, who wordlessly rushed them out of the room.

She returned and sat herself down on a couch, looking very poised. Of course she did, though, Hara was the madame. "How were your travels?"

"Hard," was all he said.

"A drink?"

"Yes, thank you."

She reached into a table beside her and produced a bottle and two glasses, pouring a few fingers into each. She handed one to him.

"What brings you back to us this time?"

"A warm bath and a warm bed," the stranger said, taking his time with the liquor. It tasted expensive.

Hara smiled at him, painted face showing delicate crow's feet at the corners of her sharp eyes. She was neither young nor innocent, though it was difficult to guess how long she'd been in the business. "And how should you like your bed warmed, my tired friend?"

"I was hoping for a little inspiration."

The woman set down her glass and clapped three times, loudly. Out from behind another curtain appeared eight young things, nervousness in their limbs and on their faces a mixture of excitement, apprehension, a little fear, a little lust. Eyes on some of them widened when they saw him, but no one said anything as they lined up at the far end of the room.

One young woman immediately caught his attention. She had a prosthetic in place of a leg missing from the knee down, and was the only one of the group who hadn't looked at him at all.

"I'd like a virgin," he said with a rumble, taking slow, languid steps closer as he sipped.

"You heard the man," Hara said, and five of the eight excused themselves, some with relief and some with disappointment. The stranger hid a smile behind the glass. He'd have them next time.

Two girls and one boy were left standing, dressed in simple shifts of fabric thin enough to show the pebbling of nipples, and short enough to display three sets of creamy thighs.

The stranger looked back to Hara, who simply gestured with her hand. He set down his glass and stepped closer to the three rents. None of them stood taller than his shoulders, and the girl with the prosthetic was even shorter than that. He looked them over carefully, first from the front before circling around to the back. The young man he'd already decided against--there was a look of jumpiness in his eye that the stranger wasn't in the mood for tonight--but slid his hand over one firm asscheek anyways, just to feel the boy shiver.

The other girl appeared willful. She kept her green eyes on him the entire time, swallowing her reaction when he thumbed a nipple through the fabric of her shift. Pride isn't what he wanted tonight either. When he circled around one last time and came to stop in front of the shy girl, though, she still didn't lift her eyes to meet him. He glanced down with her for a moment, to see what she might be looking at.

"Are my boots really that interesting?"

"N- I mean y-yes, sir." She shut her eyes tight. "I mean..."

He smiled. "What's your name?"

"Briar, sir."

The stranger turned to Hara and nodded. The madame lifted elegantly away from the sofa to join them.

"Jenna, Caius, you're excused. Go have dinner."

The two left the same way they entered as Hara approached.

"Has she eaten?" the stranger asked.

"Not yet."

"We'll take our meals in my room."

"Of course, sir. How long will you be staying?"

He looked back to the girl, watched the small movements of her face as he said, "Morning. Send us breakfast, too."

She swallowed.

"That'll be three-hundred fifty sheks."

The man reached into a pocket and produced a cash stick while Hara produced the accompanying receiving device. He held one end to the small puck-shaped thing until a little green light flashed, and the transaction was complete.

The madame went to refill his glass before sending them on their way. "Room 4, Briar. And don't forget what I told you about slicking up. You'll need it with this guest."

The girl nodded and pulled back a curtain to lead the way. The stranger picked up his pack and, though he knew where room 4 was, followed her down the dimly lit hall anyways.

And he wasn't surprised to find that she didn't want to make conversation like the more experienced rents did.

She opened the door to their room. It was a tidy, spartan space, furnished with little more than a bed, sideboard, changing screen, vidscreen, and photos on the walls of tasteful, elegant nudes. The stranger strode in and set his things down on the floor. As soon as he sat down on the bed, he realized that he was quite tired.

Briar stood awkwardly by the door, eyes still on her feet as though she were a servant waiting to be dismissed.

"Come here, Briar."

She did as told, getting close enough for him to draw her in the rest of the way until she was standing between his spread knees.

"Look at me."

It was the first time that their gaze met, and the man was pleased to find intelligence in her dark eyes. The fear was palpable, of course, but behind that there was so much more. He hoped to unwrap her tonight like a box of delicacies.

Her hands had been clasped in front of her nearly from the moment he saw her, so he gently grasped them and pulled them into his own.

"You're cold," he noted.

"I'm always cold, sir."

"Have you kissed a man, yet?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

He stood up again, ducking his head down low to brush his lips against hers. With his right hand he still held her small, chilled hands in his, and with his left he cradled the back of her head. The first kiss was almost chaste so that he could gauge her reaction, then he deepened it, licking along her bottom lip until she opened for him. Much warmer on the inside, he thought as he slowly, methodically devoured her mouth before pulling away.

"What's Hara told you about me?" He began to undress, starting with his belt and shirt.

Briar blinked and licked her lips, now red from attention. It took a second for her to gather herself. "Sh-she told me that you can be very rough."

"Did she also tell you that I've never hurt any rent who didn't want to be hurt?"

The girl looked as though his words didn't make any sense. "I don't..."

He didn't feel like explaining the proclivities of both himself and a few of the usuals Hara employed. "How long have you been here?"

"Little less than a m-month, sir."

The stranger nodded as he crossed the chamber to the small washroom where he started running the bath and finished with the rest of his undressing.

"Sir, i-if I can... ask you a question?" She called from the room.

"Sure."

There was a short beat and then he heard her again, closer to the washroom this time, but she avoided the doorway. "Why did you pick me?"

The man kicked off his dusty pants and rose to stand naked where she could see him. Briar hadn't expected this at all, and flinched when he suddenly appeared in the doorway, wide eyes darting down to his flaccid manhood first, and then after a moment, lower. The stranger wore a false leg much like hers.

"If they've said that no one would think you capable because of it, then I'd like to know who they are so I can spend a night with them too."

Briar's eyes snapped back up to his. There was a shadow of confusion on her face. "Who are you?" she murmured, hugging herself.

"You all are better off not knowing." He turned back to the tub, about halfway full now, and stopped the water. "Are you joining me?"

There was a long pause. "Do I have to?"

"The bath? No." He settled into the hot water and sighed out a week's worth of hard work and sore muscles. "But you do have an obligation at some point tonight."

He was matter-of-fact because to him, this was a matter of fact. She was a professional rendering a service to a client. A young, inexperienced, and very human professional, granted, but a professional nonetheless. And as a professional himself, he saw it as a matter of integrity that she should hold up her end of the bargain.

The stranger, though, wasn't expecting her to get in the water with him. The bath was a closely confined space, probably far too intimate an opener. Leaning back and closing his eyes, he thought of other ways to loosen her up after dinner.

It was a several long minutes before he heard her pad closer, though, and with honest surprise he turned to see her standing on the threshold.

"Does yours itch sometimes?" she asked nervously.

"After a long day." The man watched Briar moisten her lips and decided to continue. "Many years ago I was part of a strike force for the fleet. My team and I were clearing a path through a minefield out in the belt for some ships. At some point, I lost track of my horizon and started spinning. Foot hit a mine just hard enough to set it off. My suit melted, fused to the skin around my knee from the heat, which kept my air in and saved me. I would've suffocated in seconds, otherwise."

He lifted his knee out of the water to show her the scarring at where the prosthetic met flesh. She gasped quietly.

"Did it hurt?"

"Afterwards it did."

Briar sat down on the floor next to the tub, eyes drifting across his exposed skin now.

"You have a lot of scars..."

"I've seen a lot."

She nodded quietly.

The stranger reached for a bar of soap and worked it up a lather that he rubbed onto his chest and shoulders. Then he dunked his head under, gave his hair and scalp a soapy scrub as well. When he was finished rinsing off his head, he noticed her stick her fingers in the tub and give the now-whitish water a little swish.

"If you want to wash up alone, I can leave."

Briar thought about it for a minute, chewing on her lip. The man was about to make the decision for her and began to lift himself out of the tub when her hand shot out to his shoulder. He cocked a brow at her.

"If Hara found out that I... I had interrupted your bath so I could have my privacy..."

The stranger settled back down, rested his arms along the edge of the tub as she turned her back to him and trepidly lifted the shift over her head. She wore nothing else underneath--it was a rule of the house unless a client specified something else--except for the skin she was born in.

Briar folded her arms over her chest and squeezed her legs together, and when it was time to step over the high edge of the bathtub, she did so quickly and stiffly. There was a tangle of legs for a minute while she sat down, and her toe brushed against his still-soft cock as she decided to sit with her back to his chest.

It was an unexpected choice, though he suspected she felt less on ‘display' this way.

The stranger let himself enjoy the feeling of her soft skin against his harder chest and belly, the swell of her ass against his dick and balls. There was a lazy tingle in his loins--the evening had to start sometime.

"I wouldn't have told her, you know," he murmured.

"But I might have."

There was a knock on the door suddenly, and Briar jumped in surprise. The stranger smirked.

"Come in," he called out.

"Dinner, sir!" came a girl's voice.

"Did Hara remind you to bring my usual drink?"

"Yes, sir."

"Put it on the sideboard, then."

There was the clinking of a tray, a shuffling, and the door closed again.

The stranger turned back to the girl in his lap. "Are you hungry?"

"Not yet," she said meekly. "I still... need to wash up."

He lathered up the bar of soap in his hands, then held it out for her to take. He started to carefully rub the lather around her neck and shoulders. When she seemed receptive to his touch, he let them wander below the water until a big hand came to rest on her belly, thumb rubbing along her navel.

"Don't forget this." He grabbed the wrist of her free hand and gently guided it down, down, until her fingers were trembling at the swell of her pubic bone in the murky water.

A thought then occurred to the man.

"Have you touched yourself before?"

Briar was stiff against him, breathing a little unsteady. "Yes," she whispered.

"I was hoping you'd say that," he said, matching her volume but making up for it with the rumble deep in his chest. "I'd like you clean inside and out, then."

Keeping his hand on hers but avoiding touching her himself, he felt her delicate fingers disappear between her legs and begin to move. Briar sighed and another little jolt of heat made its way down to his hips.

The hand on her stomach stayed, and his other dipped down to palm at a breast. He felt its meager weight against his calloused skin, a perfect, silken globe. Right now it only existed for him to touch. The stranger brushed his long, rough fingers across a nipple, at which he felt the girl's breath hitch in her throat.

She would have been able to feel the slow hardening of his length against her tailbone, though she might be ignoring it. Briar shifted a little, presumably to get better access. The hand on her belly slid down to cover hers between her legs.

"You'll have better reach if you put your feet up on my thighs," he suggested in a low voice, thrilled when she did so nervously. All he could see were the very tops of her knees sticking out of the water, parted as wide as they would go, and below, the murky shape of her arm making the smallest of movements.

The stranger massaged her other breast and began stroking the insides of her thighs, feeling her quicken her pace a little. Briar bit down on her lip but he could still hear the faint moan in her throat. She wasn't long before he felt her body go rigid and jerk the slightest bit--a small orgasm for the small girl, and she whimpered to herself.

His cock flexed in response to this, firming up nicely against her. Briar put her legs down and settled back against him, still shivering. That's when she realized that he was not quite so soft as before.

The girl turned to face him, pulling away. But she was unable to form words.

"Surely Hara's told you all about the bodies of men?"

"In f-few words, sir. Said that every client was different. That I'd need to..."

The stranger heaved a gentle sigh, then braced his hands on the edge of the metal tub to stand and step out. Briar's eyes locked once again onto the half-mast swaying between his legs, then the rest of him, dripping with water. The man reached for a towel and dried off some before wrapping it around his waist. The bulge was still plain through the soft terrycloth.

He grabbed a second and held it out for her. "Let's continue this after dinner, Briar."

Leaving her to finish her business in the washroom, the man went to investigate the food brought for them. The dainty glass from earlier he picked up and finished off to make room for the contents of the bottle, a rare wine from a faraway place, distinctly black in color. He lifted a cloche and the aroma of braised meat and vegetables with a hunk of fresh bread greeted him. The stranger was famished, and began to eat where he stood.

He was halfway through with his plate when Briar emerged from the bathroom, towel wrapped tightly around her chest.

"Everything alright?" he asked as he poured her a glass of wine and pressed it into her hand. She looked surprised.

"S-sir, I couldn't. This is a three-year barteb!"

"Your client insists."

Briar took a very small sip. Then another.

"And he wants to know what you think."

She looked sheepishly down into her drink. "I think my client has good taste."

Smiling, he stepped over to kiss her on the mouth. "That he does." She turned red again, and he was satisfied.

The stranger brought the tray over to the bed, setting it down, then followed with his glass from the sideboard. She removed the cloche from her plate and began to eat also, trying to do so as cleanly and femininely as possible. The man reclined opposite the tray and began wiping up juices with the bread.

"Vidscreen on," he declared, and part of the wall in front of them came to life with swirling colors. "Find us some timelapse footage of celestial bodies."

Compiling, it said in the corner.

Then, the swirling colors were replaced by something very similar: slow pans of supernovae, technicolor dust clouds, the rings of far-flung planets, the shimmer of solar nurseries. It bathed them both in color as they ate in silence, and he noticed her gaze at the images with a kind of longing.

"You've never left this planet, have you?" he asked.

Briar shook her head. "I have too much debt here. I can't afford to leave."

He popped the last morsel of tender meat into his mouth. "You'll find a way out."

"You sound so sure, sir?"

"I am."

Briar ate some more in silence, finished half her glass of barteb when he noticed a frown forming on her face. Whatever it was that kept her so long in the washroom, it was keeping her now.

"Sir," she said quietly, not taking her eyes off the vidscreen. "You're a mystery to all of us here, including Hara. But you're not like the other men." A pause as she gathered her thoughts. "Why do you use us?"

"I have needs like any other man."

"But don't you have a lover? A family?"

The stranger flicked his eyes up to her. She was looking at him now. "Only a sociopath would have a family while doing what I do. You may not know this, but I quite enjoy company, Briar. It just so happens that I have to pay for it these days."

The girl swallowed nervously, still frowning. "Why do you need the company of a virgin?"

The liquor must've been getting to her.

"I don't." He took a long sip from his own cup. "Believe it or not, I'm trying to do you a favor."

She looked at him, confused. But he wasn't in the mood to explain himself. "You'll understand by tomorrow. Now when you're through with dinner, I'd like to see you naked again."

The girl took her time, eating in silence, and even then wasn't able to clear her plate. The man took the tray back to the sideboard and poured himself another glass of barteb. When he turned around, Briar was sitting in such a way that made her look guarded and closed. But perhaps she was just cold. The man tapped the thermostat by the door and the heat came on.

"Do you know what sex is, Briar?"

"Sir?"

"Do you know what sex is supposed to be?"

If she had an answer, she was doubting it now. "Sex is when people... someone touches someone else, and they orgasm."

He set his glass down and stepped over to the side of the bed. "But what is it supposed to be?"

"I-I don't understand, sir?"

He gestured between them. "What is this?"

"We're... talking?"

He pointed to the washroom. "And there?"

"We bathed together."

"And what did you feel? What do you feel now?"

Briar searched his face for a clue. She wouldn't find it there, though. "I think... you feel trustworthy."

The stranger smiled a little, just the corner of his mouth, and nodded. "I'll tell you something I've never told anyone before, Briar. And that is buying someone's trust is better than having none at all."

"Sir?"

"You asked about my leg." He lifted it and set the glossy gray prosthetic onto the bed beside her. Higher quality than hers, but still a false leg. "The truth is that it itches like hell. Sometimes it even hurts. But it's mine and I'll be damned if I let anyone get in my way because of it."

The girl shrunk away from him, eyes wide at the sudden emotion. But she didn't recoil, not entirely.

The stranger crept up onto the bed, towel coming undone in the process, and he sat cross-legged beside her. Briar took a moment, but leaned in closer, hand tentatively outstretched. He was flaccid again, and knew that she wasn't paying attention to that. What she did instead was brush her fingers along his leg, then up to the ugly scars around the stump above the knee.

"Mine hurts sometimes too," Briar whispered. "I can't tell anyone."

"You can now."

They sat like that for a moment. The girl traced along the front of his prosthetic, down the top of the foot, and along each toe. He could move them with the same dexterity as flesh and bone, though he had no such sensation.

But the man wanted something he could feel, and he wanted it badly all of a sudden. He took her hand in his own, a little less cold now, and drew them together for another kiss. His lips pursued hers insistently, and she closed her eyes to try and lose herself in the moment. By that ancient animal instinct his body moved closer, leaning over her, and now she was under him. When her shoulders met with the bedding, she pulled away. Her breathing was heavy.

Briar was beginning to look very fresh now, and raw. Her lips were plump and glistening, her cheeks were flushed, her pink tongue dared out to lick her teeth, her lips, and the stranger wanted so badly for that mouth to taste his heat.

But the night was still young.

"I should get the slick," Briar whispered, looking away from him.

The stranger smiled. "Not yet, you're getting ahead of yourself."

He reached back to touch her false foot, running his much bigger fingers along the cheaper, scuffed material that would have once been a clean white. A second-hand item, he guessed, but it was still more naturalistic than most other models out there that she might have been able to afford new. Hara might have even given it to her.

The stranger let his hand wander up the outside of her thigh, and when he came to the hem of the terrycloth, he pushed it up and out of the way as much as the dense fabric would allow. Doing this revealed her hips and pussy, hidden under neatly trimmed hair: another house requirement. Briar clenched her thighs together again, and the man knew it was in all likelihood partly her own ancient programming bubbling up to the surface. There was something precious there that needed protecting.

She lay under him with her arms up, hands resting on the pillow beside her head, and she looked down at the nearness of their bodies with building curiosity. The fear was slowly, slowly losing ground, though it was still a struggle for her.

Carefully, he undid her towel.

"Beautiful," he murmured, taking this opportunity to really drink the girl in.

If she barely came to the height of his chest earlier, then he would guess that she stood at maybe five-foot-four or five. And she was lean, slender, with a gentle curve to her hips that tapered down to soft thighs. Her skin was darker and her hair straight and black, with perfect almond eyes set above full, regal cheekbones. He imagined her in the dress of a viceroy or ambassador in 20 years, long neck accentuated by the elegantly high collars of those offices. Either way, she certainly wouldn't be here in 20 years. Not unless she took over for Hara, that is. The thought disappointed him for some reason.

"You are... also handsome," the girl said quietly, chewing on her lip.

The stranger couldn't help the look of skeptical surprise. "Am I?"

In an unexpected act of agency, she lifted her hand to trace down his breastbone, feeling along hard muscle with featherlight touches.

"You're real... not like the other men that come here. Your life is written on your skin."

He allowed himself to relish the explorative touch. Her curiosity made him... content.

"What you'll learn here is that all men are real," he said, shifting his knees for better support as he knelt above her. Her fingers now followed the strong cordage of his forearm, tickling the long hairs there. "We all betray something of ourselves, especially to rents. The only thing different about me is that I know that I do."

Her words then surprised him. "What do I betray?"

The stranger couldn't help but reach out and stroke the curve of her breast, feeling the perfect weight of it against his fingers. "A keenness," he said. "And don't be afraid of it, girl. Leave that to other people."

Briar blinked and swallowed, as though he had put medicine on her tongue.

"Now open your legs for me."

He saw the muscles in her thighs relax, then part by a few inches.

"Wider."

She did so, but looked away, at the ceiling. That, of course, wouldn't do. The man backed down so that he could see the fullness of her sex laid bare before him. She glistened with her own slight wetness slicking up pink lips. Clitoris peeked out from under her hood, begging to be touched, and below that he could see the divot of her unbroken hole. The stranger felt a rush of hot blood fill him, and his cock heaved slowly to life again.

"Screen, find something sensual to play."

The colors cast along the girl and the bed disappeared for a few seconds as it processed his query, then it was replaced with undulations of red. Briar's eyes flicked to the wall behind him.

"If you can't look at me," he said, "Then at least look there. What do you see?"

"I s-see a... woman's hips as she's dancing with a pole, sir."

Not bad, he thought, as he grabbed her by the legs to spread them even wider. His thumbs brushed along the very insides of her thighs, and Briar sucked in a breath.

"What is she wearing?"

"Nothing."

The man glanced back and saw as much himself: a close-cropped shot of a woman from waist to knee as she pole-danced, though this lifelike rendering was gyrating very close to the reflective surface of the metal. The camera panned around just enough for the viewer to catch a glimpse of her heavy slick and plump outer lips before she lifted her knee and pressed herself to the pole and slid along it.

He firmed even more and turned back to his rent.

Her eyes were glued to the vidscreen and when he teasingly ran his thumb along one of Briar's outer lips, she fidgeted and rewarded him with a small ooze of moisture.

"Screen, have our dancer continue to pleasure herself with that pole."

The stranger knelt between her knees, inhaled her strong, sweet scent. The girl was more ready than she knew. He blew a hot breath on her, and Briar made the faintest whimper, barely a breath on her lips.

"Do you want to know what that feels like?"

He blew a cooler breath on her and watched as her deep muscles clenched. "Yes."

"Well you won't get it just yet." Delaying no longer, he pointed his tongue and gave her a strong, solid lick.

Briar squirmed, and the stranger was impressed at the sudden strength in those lean limbs! With his hands he restrained her, holding her hips firmly still with less effort than he was hoping.

He laved at her again, slower this time, open-mouthed. "Fulk, you taste perfect," he rumbled, scowling with the pleasure of it. Though it had been some months this time, he hadn't forgotten the taste of a woman, not even close.

"Oh, sir," Briar breathed. He could feel her muscles twitching, tightening experimentally "Ah..."

The man planted the whole of his mouth on that wet heat, sucking, licking, kissing at the swollen lips.

He growled, wanting more. Deftly, he pushed her knees up to her chest, splaying her entirely open. Briar cried out this time as he dove in, penetrating her with his tongue.

"S-sir!"

Once, Hara asked him why he spent time pleasuring the rents. It cost him money, she reasoned, and it was usually the predatory guests that went so far out of their way. If I wanted to just stick my dick into something, I could make a fist, he'd explained. What I'm here for is sex.

Hara took him to bed after that. The stranger was happy to experience such a discriminating and experienced woman, and she still occasionally approached him when the mood struck her.

There was a throb and he was greeted by a gush of juice from the girl's pussy. This is why he went through the trouble. Pleasuring her was pleasure.

And it would make burying himself in her later just that much easier.

"Ohhh," Briar moaned, voice ragged and pitching up. "Gods, sir, I... I..." She threw her head back but bit her lip. Little hands covered his temples and she began trying to push him away. "Wait! S-stop, it's too much, I feel so hot..."

The girl tried squirming out of his grip, closing her legs, but his hands were like a vice. Bearing down only pinned her to the bed further, and the stranger growled against her straining clit. "I want it to be--mmph--too much."

Her mewling cries grew more desperate as she gave up her struggle, and at the last minute the man withdrew enough to watch with dark eyes as he rubbed a tight circle on her clit until she trembled and sobbed through her orgasm. He watched her muscles quiver and jerk, her tight hole throb and force out another gush that oozed down to her twitching asshole before dripping wantonly onto the bed.

"You made a mess for me," he said in a low, satisfied voice.

Briar was catching her breath, breasts glistening with a sheen of sweat now. She was flushed, but he could tell that she was also blushing by how she turned to the side and closed her eyes.

The stranger captured her chin. "Look at me," he said in a way that approached understanding. "Are you embarrassed?"

"I wish you didn't stare..."

"You're mine to stare at tonight. The shame, though, is yours. This..." The man wiped his fingers through her juices and dragged out a long thread of wetness that he made sure she saw. "...is exactly what you were meant to do."

His erection was throbbing with need now, and he massaged the head of his cock.

"We'll want that slick."

Briar closed her legs but watched, eyes transfixed on the shaft proudly jutting from his between hard thighs. He smiled.

"Ah, so you'd prefer to do the staring?"

The stranger tightened the muscles of his belly and let go of his cock to let it flex in the air at her. Her cheeks turned a deeper shade of red and she shifted her thighs--to alleviate a little discomfort, possibly?

Briar swallowed and reached over into the side table drawer for the bottle of slick.

"A little on your breasts," the stranger rumbled. "Then I want you to apply some to your pussy for me. Spread your legs."

She hesitated, and he insisted by touching his hand to her knee and pushing it open for her. Briar looked down to her chest as she drizzled a line of slick across the pert mounds, and rightly assumed that he wanted her to smear it around. By the twelve gods she was a delight to watch: delicate fingers danced around the swells of soft flesh, swirled experimentally around the nipple, before gently capturing each hardened bud in a pinch that had her nibbling her plump bottom lip.

The stranger felt a trickle of his own moisture drip down the head of his cock at the sight. He nodded at her to continue.

Briar glanced down at herself, lip still between her teeth, and aimed the stream of slick over her pink pussy. The man was enraptured by the way the thick, clear liquid coated her clit, her lips, her hole, glistening in the light from the screen. Fulk.

He took the slick from her and wet the ends of his fingers as she watched with just as much attention.

"Will you take me now?" she said quietly.

"Almost," he said, setting the bottle back onto the side table. "First I'll want to stretch you, or this might be too painful."

Briar swallowed, though still lost in the haze of post-orgasm. "You do seem... big."

He settled himself between her legs with the girl's knees on either side of him. His cock was so close to her now, but this last precaution had to be taken. "I believe all men would seem big to a virgin." At eight inches, he was, of course, on the larger side, especially for a girl of her size. But he wasn't interested in telling her that it would be difficult to take him. Her body would decide that.

One finger seemed a bit too cautious, so he began with pressing in two. Briar gasped, breasts shifting, catching light as she sucked in a breath. She was still tight around him. And hot, and wonderfully wet, and velvety smooth. Her muscles clenched, drawing him further in.

Fire beat in the stranger's belly as he pulled out and drove back in, penetrating her in a firm but effortless rhythm. He leaned over her then, gazed down into her face as the girl's lips parted to let out her panting breaths. Her neck he cradled with his free hand before capturing her mouth in a kiss. Of her own accord she opened for him, and it was a surprise when she placed her own little hands along his stubbled jaw.

When he felt her begin to relax, he pulled out entirely and prodded three fingers in, rewarding the young girl underneath him by curling his digits to massage at the soft spot behind her pubic bone. She rewarded him by moaning into his mouth.

"That's it," he muttered between heavy kisses, "Let me in."

She mewled, tremulously, against the corner of his mouth in time with his hand. "Ah, ah, ah!"

The stranger wasn't sure what prompted him, but it wasn't long before he decided that Briar was as ready for him as she could be. He pulled out three thick fingers, absolutely coated in her own hot slick, and pressed them to her mouth.

"Taste yourself," he rumbled, and he was glad she understood that he wasn't making a suggestion. Her hot little mouth opened and he slipped himself in. She struggled not to force his fingers out, and the sensation of her tongue finally on him only sent another jolt of pleasure southward. Lewd.

"It's time."

At this point, it didn't appear that Briar knew whether to be eager or afraid. She kept her legs parted for him, but she looked on with apprehension as he rubbed his cockhead along her folds. The stranger wasn't sure where he wanted to look as he entered her, but decided on her face. There was no repeating what she was about to show him.

And so, with a firm, steady pressure, he sank in, bit by bit. Briar breathed shallowly, grabbed him by the biceps as her face contorted in a wince. Something in her gave way and half of him had suddenly slipped inside.

The man groaned as the girl whimpered loudly, and he held still. A ragged hiss escaped her. She panted. Her hips froze. She dared not move.

"A-ah! Hh! You... you're s-so big!"

He fought the urge to plunge further in, hilt himself if he could. But he waited until the trembling of her walls settled, until the girl caught her breath, before he pulled out. There was a small spot of blood on the bedding, and the man at once felt pleased and apologetic. Briar took the opportunity to gather herself as he massaged at her freshly violated hole.

"It hurts a little," she murmured, looking up at him with dark, dewy eyes. The stranger wanted to mark that face.

"I know." Already his voice had that rough edge to it. "And it could have been much, much worse. But it'll feel good soon."

"Worse?" she breathed.

The stranger pressed in again, eyes fixed on where they met as he watched half of himself disappear inside the small girl. Another long groan vibrated his chest, and he decided that he wanted to come inside of her.

"Mmmh. Yes. I'm sure you know that there are men and women who enjoy inflicting pain."

Briar's face contorted as he withdrew by a few inches and thrust back in a little further this time, pushing a small whimper out of her. "And what a-about you?"

"I used to."

In another brief glimpse of bravery, Briar reached out to touch a long scar under his collarbone, one of many. "I think you still do," she breathed.

The man smiled, wistfully, darkly. "Perhaps a little."

"Why?"

He withdrew to the tip, then, and dove back in, finally hilting himself to illustrate his point. The girl gasped loudly, winced, arched so high on the bed that he was sure she was trying to pull her hips away from him now. Hands grasped as his muscled forearms, and her fingers could scarcely fit halfway around them. Briar cursed in a most precious way.

"Because it makes me feel alive."

The girl met his gaze, scanned his face, looking for something as she caught her breath through swollen lips. Did he suddenly pose a threat to her? Was there more to this encounter than he was letting on? Dare she dare risk ending the night early?

Am I scared of you? her face said.

Briar lowered her eyes, bit her lip as she traced around where their bodies met. Perhaps she needed to feel just how tight she was around him--and she was tight. The stranger was rock-hard inside her, and he was almost sure that she'd be able to feel the throbbing pulse in his cock, but she kept going and he held still for her. Eventually her delicate fingers found his balls, hanging heavy between strong thighs, full of seed.

She felt each globe between her fingers, fascinated. The man sighed and grabbed at one of her nipples, perched so perfectly on top of a juicy swell of breast, already pebbled and waiting to be rolled between his fingers.

"I feel so full," Briar moaned. "I'm afraid to move... I'm sorry."

"Are you afraid to keep going?" With his other hand he began to rub a small, gentle circle on the hood of her clit. The girl rewarded him with a whimper and a slight shifting of her hips.

"I... I... aah..." Briar threw her head back, mouth open.

The stranger repeated himself as another orgasm threatened to rip through her.

"It's... you're..." Her voice hitched higher and the man rubbed vigorously now. Her walls clung wantonly to his shaft and it took some concentration to keep from thrusting into her. "S-stop, I'm going to...!"

Briar's face twisted and she writhed under him as a haggard cry tore out of her, one very much indistinguishable from pain, that turned into a sobbing wail as the climax rolled through her slowly and completely. She jerked underneath him, pussy throbbing helplessly around his cock. The man couldn't help it--he shoved the last half inch or so of himself inside of her, quite unsure of how her small body could fit all of him but grateful that it could.

"Good girl," he rumbled. "What a good girl, letting me do this to you..."

The throbbing of her muscles around him was pleasure on its own, and if he could somehow keep this up he would surely come from the sensation. Experimentally, he kept rubbing around her hood and parted pussy lips as she cried her way through the last of the orgasm.

"S-sir!" she whimpered, grabbing him by the wrist in an effort to tear him away, but the stranger wasn't ready to relent yet. "Sir, please, please not again! It's too much!"

But he kept rubbing, even as her thighs squeezed helplessly around his waist. "Look at you, Briar--stuffed full of my cock, coming so beautifully for me."

He rubbed faster, with several fingers now, and once again Briar went rigid. She choked out a haggard cry this time, unable to restrain herself. Tears wet the edges of her dark eyes as she screamed.

The stranger was nearing the edge himself, his thick length teasingly massaged by her warm cunt, undulating around him, jerking him.

"You feel exquisite, girl. Ahh..."

She continued to cum even as he removed his hand from her to roughly spread her thighs as wide as they would go. It sounded agonizingly intense, and as he began to thrust into her, she whimpered and moaned in time with being filled.

There was no more slowness. He wanted this now.

Skin slapped against skin as the man rolled into her petite body over and over. The energy in him, potential, kinetic, was been wound like a tight spring over these past few weeks, and now was finally being unleashed. The full force of this man, hardened with age, cunning, survival, poured into a girl almost half his size. And like a cup, she could only hold so much before spilling.

Her feet braced against his arms, one warm, one cold. The false leg felt vivifying where it touched him, the mark of her own unspoken trials, like a weed breaking through a film of gray concrete. It was right--no, more than right, it was agency itself.

The growl began deep in his belly, ground its way upward as the pleasure rolled through him. The sheer wanton bliss of it all. And it all eventually found its way to his hips, electrifying him from the root of his throbbing shaft to its head.

Briar laid under him, panting, tired, unable to retreat from the onslaught of raw, sensate feeling. It looked as though it were washing over her now, but even through her hazy exhaustion, she reached for her pussy to feel with her own fingers the frenzied movement of his manhood as he pumped in and out of that little womb.

His body tightened. He grabbed one of her oiled breasts, palming it harshly as he thrust into her a few more times. The heat had reached its tipping point.

A curse tore from the strangers mouth when he came, dick pulsing as he unloaded into her. It had been some days since he'd taken care of himself, and she was overflowing with him.

He held still for a moment before withdrawing. Briar made a face and sighed.

"Vidscreen off," he breathed, gazing down at the girl beneath him. The colors disappeared from behind him and she was bathed simply in a dim glow. But it was enough, he could see her dripping.

"Briar, I want you to lick me clean."

The rent-girl blinked, and with a curl of his finger he beckoned her forward as he relaxed back onto his heels, hardon already flagging. Weak-limbed, she crawled forward towards him, giving him one last look before putting her mouth to the heavy length he held in his hand.

He smiled as she used her tongue and lips on every last inch of him, visibly perplexed by the flavor.

"You taste like... salt, sir."

He ran moistened fingers through her hair. "So does everyone. Is it good?"

Instead of answering him with words, she took his softening head into her mouth again and gave it a slow swirl of her tongue.

"Yes."

I most definitely picked the right one, he thought with a grin.

"Now feel your pussy. Go on."

On all fours, she reached underneath her, and he watched her face as she discovered that she was full of his cum.

"Let's shower."

The stranger slid off the bed and held out his hand, and she followed. As soon as she stood, though, her eyes went wide and he watched as their mingled fluid dripped heavily down her thighs. With a chuckle he smeared it upwards and into his hand, then wiped it across her belly.

"Come."

-

Afterward, he slipped into bed, making sure that Briar knew that she was to wear nothing through the night. He quirked a brow when she hesitated, though. He thought that she was done being shy with him?

"May I..." the girl swallowed and looked down. "May I take off my leg, sir?" The words left her in a whisper, and it was clear that she feared his response.

But he was, for the first time in a long while--too long--touched. Honored. Something in him softened, and he knew that he wanted to make sure that she would look back on this moment and remember that someone like him was capable of tenderness.

"Of course," he murmured.

She sat on the edge of the bed in the darkness and before long she had placed the prosthetic on the side table. Then, she settled in under the linens with him and they drew close.

Her back was to him and he made sure her ass settled in the crook of his hips. The stump of her leg brushed against his knee. All that mattered to him, however, was that warm little body, and the feeling of his cock nestled between her soft cheeks.

She shifted again, aware this time of the implication of their position. They were both near to sleep, but it wasn't upon them just yet. With tired muscles soothed and girl in his strong embrace, a surge of blood went to his cock one last time and it began firming to life again.

The stranger grabbed himself wordlessly, rubbed at the juncture of her thighs, the warm cleft of her ass. He sighed into her wet hair.

"One more time tonight, beautiful," he muttered, gravel in his voice.

Briar arched her back just the slightest, brushing that soft skin against him as he pressed in and sank into her pussy, already moist again. Then lazily, slowly, he began to rock.

// END