A Night of Unleashed Depravity at the Wandering Oak

It’s been a while since I’ve had a night as wild as the one I had last week at the Wandering Oak. The fire was burning bright, the patrons were rowdy, and I was in the mood for something more than just serving drinks. I had a regular, a burly blacksmith, who had a thing for me. He’d often try to sneak a feel under the counter, but I’d just play along, laughing and batting my eyelashes. It was all just a game, until he offered me a deal: if I could make him come in front of the whole tavern, he’d give me a hundred gold pieces. I couldn’t resist the temptation, and so I set out to make it happen.

I spent the rest of the night teasing him, serving him drink after drink, and making sure he was good and drunk. The crowd was getting rowdy, and I knew it was the perfect time to put on a show. I leaned in close, my breasts pressed against his arm, and whispered in his ear. He was already hard, and I could feel his eyes on me as I began to dance, my hips swaying to the music. The crowd cheered and whistled, and I could feel the blacksmith’s eyes burning with desire. I took a deep breath, and let him have it, right there in the middle of the tavern. It was a night I’ll never forget, and one that earned me a pretty penny.

The blacksmith’s generosity was just the beginning of a night of unbridled depravity. As the night wore on, the crowd got more and more rowdy, and I found myself caught up in the excitement. I started to get a little too into the game, and before I knew it, I was dancing on the bar, my clothes torn and my hair a mess. The blacksmith was cheering me on, and the crowd was going wild. It was a night of pure, unadulterated chaos, and one that I’ll always look back on with a smile. And as for the blacksmith, well, let’s just say he’s been a regular ever since, and always makes sure to leave a generous tip.