Sylvie

Tommon stood awkwardly, his hand instinctively covering his manhood as the door swung open. The barmaid stepped inside, her face a deep shade of red that clashed wonderfully with the dark cascade of her hair.

Ciri, lounging carefree in the steaming bath, eyed the newcomer with a playful gaze. "Well, come in then," she said with a chuckle. "No need to stand there like you've seen a nekker. What’s your name?"

She shuffled forward, her eyes flicking between Tommon’s embarrassed posture and Ciri’s unabashed nudity. "I... um, I'm Sylvie," she stammered, finally settling on the edge of the bed, her hands twisting nervously in her lap.

The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows across the room, illuminating the trio in a warm, golden glow. Tommon, still mostly naked, stood awkwardly in the center, one hand strategically placed to maintain a shred of modesty. His embarrassment was palpable, particularly compared to Ciri’s relaxed demeanor as she lounged in the steaming bath, unabashedly naked and clearly amused.

Ciri raised her eyebrows. "Nice to meet you, Sylvie. I'm Ciri, and you already know Tommon, though perhaps not quite in this way." Her gaze flicked to Tommon, her grin widening at his mortified expression.

Sylvie, perched on the edge of the bed, couldn't decide where to rest her eyes. They darted from Tommon’s mostly exposed figure to the floor and back again, a blush creeping over her cheeks as she caught glimpses of his less-than-subtle attempt to cover himself.

Ciri’s laughter broke the tension slightly. "Oh, Tommon, you look as if you've never stood naked in a room with two girls before," she teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "And with such... impressive reasons not to be shy."

Tommon’s face turned a deeper shade of red. Despite the potion having worn off, taking the confidence with it, his body seemed to have no issue standing alert in the warm room.

Sylvie, gaining a bit of courage from Ciri’s lightheartedness, managed a tentative smile. "I did really enjoy your singing, Tommon," she repeated, her voice stronger this time. "It was... it was really beautiful. And how you stood up for me—thank you."

Tommon nodded, his voice still a whisper but steadier now. "You’re welcome. I honestly didn’t do all that much," he said, then added with a self-deprecating grin, "and sorry if I’m not quite dressed for polite company right now." He moved half-heartedly towards his breeches, but Ciri’s sharp "Ah, ah, ah," stopped him.

"You’re not putting those on," she said firmly, her gaze locking with his. "I’m naked, and I’m perfectly comfortable. Aren’t we all friends here?"

Sylvie nodded quickly, perhaps a bit too eagerly. "Yes, of course," she stuttered, her eyes flitting between Tommon and Ciri. "It’s... it’s only fair."

Tommon, now completely at the mercy of these women’s whims, let his hand drop to his side, standing fully exposed. The air felt cooler on his skin, and he had to admit, there was a strange sort of freedom in this vulnerability. The light from the flickering candles cast shadows across his bare chest, his shirt hanging open and his arousal evident. Sylvie’s gaze now lingered on him with an open hunger. Yet, despite her attention, he still didn’t fully know what to do. He perched himself awkwardly on the edge of the room’s only chair, trying to find any confident way to sit.

Sylvie leaned forward slightly. “I’ve never heard anyone sing quite like that before,” she remarked, her voice tinged with admiration. “Where did you learn it?”

Tommon chuckled, the sound a bit self-conscious. “Well, mostly I practiced with sheep as my audience back home,” he admitted. His statement was earnest, but Sylvie’s laughter rang out, light and musical, as if he had shared a clever jest.

Her laughter was infectious, and soon Tommon found himself joining in, the sound filling the room with a warmth that eased some of his tension. As their laughter subsided, Sylvie shifted on the bed, pulling up the hem of her dress just enough to reveal more of her smooth, pale thigh. The sight sent a jolt through Tommon, his cock twitching.

Ciri, observing the exchange from her position in the steaming bath, couldn’t suppress a knowing smile. She watched as Tommon’s gaze followed the line of Sylvie’s leg.

"Well," Ciri interjected, her tone light but with an edge of command, "Sylvie, you seem right at home with Tommon. And it seems you've caught us at an... advantageous moment.” She looked at Sylvie, then back at Tommon.

“Why don’t we make everyone comfortable? That dress looks a bit hot for how warm it is in here.”

Tommon’s eyes darted between Ciri and Sylvie, his brain struggling to keep up with the pace Ciri was setting. Sylvie bit her lip, considering. Her hesitant gaze met Tommon's, a mix of curiosity and boldness flickering in her eyes as she considered Ciri's suggestion.

A faint blush colored her cheeks as she decided. With a shy yet determined nod and her voice barely above a whisper, she ran a finger gently along the pale column of her throat. "Yes, it is a bit warm, isn't it?"

Rising gracefully from the bed, Sylvie reached for the ties at the front of her dress. Her fingers trembled slightly, betraying her nervous excitement. Slowly, carefully, she began to loosen the knot, allowing the fabric to part slightly. With a deep breath, she pulled the dress down, revealing her pert, creamy breasts.

Tommon watched, mesmerized by her smile. His arousal was palpable, straining against his stomach. Sylvie, dress around her waist, stood somewhat timidly, her gaze hot on Tommon’s body.

"Do you like it?" she asked Tommon, a playful tilt to her voice, yet underlined with a hint of vulnerability. "Is this... more comfortable?"

Tommon could only nod, his throat dry, words failing him as his eyes roved appreciatively over Sylvie's form, a mix of disbelief and desire coursing through him as he processed the reality of the situation unfolding before him. He glanced over at Ciri, half-expecting this to be some sort of jest, or perhaps a cruel test.

But Ciri was all encouragement, her grin wide and genuine as she nodded approvingly. "Very lovely, Sylvie," she called out from the bath, her tone warm and inviting.

Encouraged by Ciri’s response, Sylvie turned slowly, showing her bare back to Tommon. The soft curve of her spine led down to where her dress was bunched up at her waist. She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes locking with Tommon’s, a shy smile playing on her lips. "And this? What do you think?"

Tommon’s response was immediate and enthusiastic. "Beautiful," he managed to say, his voice hoarse with desire. "Absolutely beautiful."

The dress continued its descent, slipping over her hips and falling to the floor in a whisper of cloth.

"Thank you, Tommon. You really sing well," Sylvie continued, her voice soft but clear in the quiet room. As she stepped closer, the last flickers of candlelight played across her skin, highlighting the gentle curves of her body now fully revealed with the dress discarded entirely.

"I want to thank you," she said, moving even closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "For looking out for me... and for keeping me so entertained." She gave a small, nervous laugh, but her eyes were earnest, locked onto Tommon's with an intensity that belied her timid demeanor.

Ciri, watching the exchange with keen interest from the bath, smiled encouragingly. "Why don’t you show him just how thankful you are, Sylvie?" Her voice was soft, coaxing, as she leaned forward in the tub to get a better view.

Sylvie hesitated for a moment, biting her lip as she looked from Ciri to Tommon. Then, with a small nod as if she had made up her mind, she stepped forward. Tommon's breath hitched as she knelt before him, her face inches from his throbbing arousal.

Ciri's voice floated softly from the bath, guiding Sylvie with gentle instructions. "Go on, it’s okay. Show him how much you appreciated his song... and his gallantry."

With a tentative hand, Sylvie reached out and touched Tommon's cock, her fingers exploring the length of him before gripping him gently. She looked up at Tommon, seeking reassurance in his eyes, and at his sharp intake of breath and nod, she smiled shyly.

Slowly, methodically, she rubbed his cock against her cheek, the softness of her skin on the hard tension of his arousal. Tommon groaned, a deep, guttural sound.

Sylvie paused, her lips just brushing against him. "I like that song too,” she murmured, “I really, really want to thank you.” Her breath was warm against his skin. Then, with a glance up at Tommon that was both innocent and knowing, she opened her mouth and took him in.

Tommon gasped, his hands finding their way to Sylvie’s hair, guiding her gently. The warmth and wetness of her mouth enveloped his cock, sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body. Sylvie’s movements were hesitant at first, but with Tommon’s hands encouraging her, she found more confidence in her tongue.

Ciri watched them, a satisfied grin playing on her lips. She leaned back in the bath, her eyes not leaving the pair as she relaxed into the warmth of the water.

As Sylvie continued to work, each slow movement she made drew a deep groan from him. The soft sounds of her lips and tongue, combined with the slick, rhythmic motion of her bobbing on his cock had him shuddering.

Ciri, meanwhile, was far from a passive observer. Subtly, almost casually, she began to pleasure herself, her hand slipping beneath the surface of the water and finding her folds. The water rippled gently around her movements as she fingered herself.

"Doesn't she have a wonderful mouth, Tommon?" Ciri called out, her voice husky as she worked her clit. Her eyes, gleaming with mischief and desire, never left the pair. "Tell her how good she makes you feel."

Tommon, caught between the overwhelming sensations and the sight of Ciri in the bath, managed to gasp out a reply. "Incredible... Sylvie, your mouth is incredible," he praised, his voice strained as he fought the building urge to succumb to the pleasure already and erupt in her mouth.

Encouraged by Tommon's words and Ciri's approving glances, Sylvie intensified her efforts. She took him deeper, adjusting her angle to allow his cock more free access to her mouth. She was already wet, her arousal evident in the flush on her cheeks and the quick, excited breaths she took each time she paused.

Ciri, too, became more vocal, her breaths growing sharper. "Yes, just like that, Sylvie," she said. "Make him remember you."

Tommon felt the pressure building. He focused on the flickering candlelight, the cool air on his skin, anything to stave off the climax.

Finally, sensing Tommon's nearing edge, Sylvie gently released him, taking his spit slick cock in her hands and stroking up and down the length of it before standing gracefully. Her lips glistened in the dim light, and she gave him a shy, nervous look as she pulled him toward the bed. "I want to make you happy," she whispered.

Tommon, still reeling, allowed himself to be led. His body hummed with unspent desire, every nerve alight and waiting. Sylvie climbed onto the bed.

Ciri watched them move as she continued to pleasure herself, her fingers moving faster in anticipation of what was to come.

As they settled onto the soft bed, Sylvie lay back, her hair fanning out on the pillow like a dark halo. With a gentle, inviting motion, she drew her knees up, parting her legs in a silent invitation. Tommon, his breath catching in his throat, moved between them, his hands trembling slightly with anticipation and desire.

He positioned himself at her entrance, the tip of his arousal teasing the delicate folds of her warmth. Sylvie's breath hitched, a soft moan escaping her lips as she felt the teasing pressure. Tommon held himself there, savoring the moment, the sensation of her hot, slick wetness coating him, preparing him. He watched her face, the flickering candlelight casting shadows that played across her features, highlighting her flushed cheeks and parted lips.

The room was filled with the sound of their heavy breathing, punctuated by Sylvie's soft moans as Tommon continued to tease her, exploring her with slow movements of his head against the outside of her folds.

Ciri was caught up in the scene unfolding before her, her hands moving furiously under the water of the bath. Her breaths came in sharp gasps, her eyes fixed on Tommon and Sylvie, burning with intensity. Finally, unable to contain herself any longer, Ciri's voice cut through the thick air, commanding and raw with her own need. "Tommon," she called out, her voice thick with desire, "put it in. Now."

Her command snapped the last thread of Tommon's restraint. Aligning himself with her urging, he pushed forward, sinking into Sylvie's welcoming warmth in one smooth, deep thrust. Sylvie arched beneath him, a cry of pleasure escaping her lips as she felt him fill her completely.

Tommon grasped Sylvie's legs, lifting them gently as he positioned himself for deeper penetration. Sylvie moaned beneath him, her sounds of pleasure growing louder with each successive thrust. Feeling her body respond so vividly under his touch spurred him on, driving him as he pumped in and out of her.

As Tommon moved, his hands found Sylvie’s breasts, cupping them, feeling the hard nipples press into his palms. Underneath him, Sylvie's body tensed, her back arching slightly, her muscles tensing. Her moans crescendoed into a high, keening sound, and then she was coming, her inner muscles clenching rhythmically around him as he fucked her in time with her orgasmic contractions.

Ciri’s fingers moved more frantically now, plunging in and out of herself, matching the rhythm of Tommon's thrusts into Sylvie. Her breaths were sharp and quick, her chest heaving as she watched, entranced by the sight of Sylvie losing herself to Tommon’s cock, by the sounds of Sylvie's pleasure that filled the room. The culmination of her own arousal was intense and when she came, it was with a stifled cry, her body shuddering in the warm bath, waves of pleasure radiating from her core.

Flushed with the afterglow of their climaxes, the room filled with heavy breathing and the scent of sex. Tommon, still not sated and driven by a surge of desire, gently pulled out from Sylvie. With a soft but firm hand, he encouraged her to turn over onto her stomach. Sylvie complied, flipping her body with a mix of eagerness and settling onto her knees and elbows, presenting herself to him once more.

Her back was a smooth expanse leading down to the curves of her hips, an invitation that Tommon was quick to accept. Positioning himself behind her, he admired the view for a brief moment—the vulnerability, the openness, the trust. Then, with a hand on her hips to steady her, he guided himself back inside her warmth, the angle different now, deeper.

As Tommon slid his length into Sylvie from behind, he began with slow thrusts, hilting her each time. Sylvie’s body responded with a shudder, her hips gently rocking back to meet each of Tommon's advances. The rhythm was slow, almost meditative, an exploration of depth as he ran his hands along her slender back.

He sped up then, and the room filled with the soft sounds of their union, the gentle slap of skin on skin, punctuated by Sylvie's soft moans. The slow dance transformed into a more urgent, demanding rhythm. Sylvie's moans grew louder, more insistent, her hands clutching at the sheets, her body pushing back against him with increasing desperation.

"Yes... yes..." Sylvie chanted, each word a breathy echo of her mounting pleasure. Her voice rose in pitch as Tommon's movements brought her closer to the edge again.

From the bath, Ciri watched with intense focus, her breath catching. "That's it, Tommon," she said, her voice commanding. "Just like that. Fuck her good, Tommon."

Tommon felt a surge of energy, of primal satisfaction. He felt powerful, connected. His thrusts became even more forceful, the sound of their bodies meeting filling the room. Sylvie's moans grew louder, more fervent, until with a sharp cry, she came again, her body shuddering beneath him, her climax washing over her in powerful waves. Tommon felt her body clenching around him, taking him with her.

Ciri, sensing the imminent culmination, raised her voice above Sylvie's cries. "Pull out, Tommon! Now!" Her command cut through the haze of Tommon's arousal with startling clarity.

Reacting instinctively, Tommon obeyed, pulling out just as his climax crested. He stood back, breath heaving, as he reached his peak, his release spraying across Sylvie's back and ass. He kept coming, ropes landing against the smooth, pale canvas of her skin.

Sylvie collapsed forward slightly, breathing heavily, a contented smile curving her lips as she felt the warmth on her skin. Ciri, still in the bath, clapped her hands softly, her smile wide and genuinely pleased. "Perfectly done," she praised, her eyes sparkling with delight and a hint of pride. "You're both incredible."

As Sylvie lay collapsed on the bed, her chest heaving with deep breaths, she turned her head to glance back at Tommon, a playful yet exhausted smile softening her features. "You're such a gentleman," she breathed out, her voice a whisper of admiration mixed with a hint of amusement as her body shuddered with the aftershocks of her climax.

From the bath, Ciri's laughter rang out. "Certainly, a gentleman," she agreed, amusement lacing her tone, "Just making sure he doesn’t leave any tiny Tommons behind." Her eyes twinkled with mirth as she stood up, water cascading down her body, reaching for a towel to pat herself dry.

Sylvie joined in the laughter, the sound light and carefree, her earlier timidity washed away.

Exhausted, Tommon let himself fall back onto the bed, the mattress embracing him. He felt overwhelmed, yet deeply satisfied, a contentment settling over him. Sylvie scooted closer to him, nestling into the crook of his neck. Her body was warm against his, her breaths gently tickling his skin, grounding him back to the moment, to the here and now. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer.

Meanwhile, Ciri, wrapped in a towel now, moved around the room with graceful efficiency. She wrung out her hair and began to dry off. Every now and then, she would glance over at Tommon and Sylvie, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. Bath oils and the scent of spent passion filled the air, accompanying the soothing glow of the candlelight flickering gently across the walls.

Tommon’s thoughts drifted as he lay there with Sylvie’s warmth seeping into his bones. In that quiet, reflective space, Tommon felt a profound combination of bafflement and gratitude for this turn of fortune in his life. As Sylvie’s breathing evened out, hinting she might be drifting to sleep, Ciri finished drying off and moved to join them.

Yeah, running away was worth it.