Conan’s Whore - part one By all objective standards, I have ..

Conan’s Whore - part one By all objective standards, I have a wonderful life in our village. Married for ten years to the village blacksmith, a wonderful man who has ably provided for me and our two y0ung children, I couldn’t be more thankful for our life together. But a prosperous life in our our peaceful little village is not without cost. The edges of our borders are constantly under siege, and the endless war that has helped my husband’s business thrive has also cost the lives of countless y0ung warriors. Our village, Lycestoma, lies above a sleepy valley midway between Agestoria and Myceleen. It’s richness in resources and strategic position make it a frequent stopping point for regiments of warriors moving to and from the combat occurring in the North. News has spread that one such regiment, led by Conan, our mightiest general, has made camp outside the village to resupply before its return to the front lines of battle. If this visit is in keeping with those prior, Conan and his brave and rowdy warriors will be camped outside our village for two to three weeks. These visits are always looked upon as both a blessing and a curse. The boon to the economy spurred by the needs of an army cannot be denied. The whores especially do well, although the time afterward needed to recover the grip of their tender cunts and bottoms is by no means enviable. But as with any large group of virile y0ung males, there are often problems as well. The cunts in our prosperous village don’t belong exclusively to the whores, and these visits often result in the swelling of the bellies of our fair, y0ung maidens. The number of bastards birthed in Lycestoma over the last decade is beyond count. My sweet and loving husband is helping to raise one such bastard. Ronor possesses neither the warrior’s spirit nor the brute physicality required for battle. He’s a sensitive and loving father who takes great joy in providing such a comfortable lifestyle to his wife and children. And I reward him for his efforts in the ways that are expected of a wife. In my village, I’m considered quite beautiful, or so I’ve been told. My petite frame and striking features are accentuated nicely by a pair of breasts that have swollen more ample than should seem possible for a female of my stature. They are each capped by a supple pink nipple that has capably fed two whelps to health and vigor. It’s a beautiful spring evening, and I’m just about to lay with my husband and provide him the pleasure of my cunt. I have teased an erection from him with a playful dance of my lips and tongue, a practice which I’ve found quickly moistens me for penetration. But as I rise to remove my garments and straddle my husband, the door of our hut flies open, and Zadeon, the high elder of our village, makes an unannounced entry.