"You suck."

He smiles at my comment, shrugs and reaches down to unbutton his trousers. The gold lined in pockets around his belt makes the hem sag as he pulls them down far enough to expose himself to the elements of the dusky back alley. In the moonlight, he looks like little more than a shadow.

"I thought that was your job," he jokes, and I smirk up at him as he steps up to my face. His cock is half-hard and nearly as long as my forearm; not huge by human standards, but to someone like me...

"You almost blew it in there. If I hadn't stepped up with another drink to the merchant, he would have--"

"But you did, and he didn't. Now shut up and get to work." He grins down at me and nudges the tip of his cock against my chin. It smells like sweat and sweet, sticky cum. "We don't have all night."

"Prick," I smile, and wrap my lips around him. He groans softly and leans back against the building, one hand coming down to stroke across my hair...

Here's the thing: It's pretty hard to ignore a cock when it's right in your face. And when you're as tall as me, which is literally half the size of everyone else (hence the name 'halfling'), cocks are always in your face. Always. Even if you were to try and hide out in the halfling villages, the damn things have become so overrun with merchants and sellswords and adventurers and ne'er-do-wells that you can't avoid someone shoving their groin in your face. Not on purpose, mind, but so few of the tall folk ever care to look down long enough to spot us, and so it literally becomes a game of dodge-the-cock when you are a halfling going to market. Not that it's all bad, of course...

Fuck," he grunts, and grabs a tighter hold of my hair. With it, he forces me farther down on his cock, while the taste of his pre-cum coats my industrious tongue. A soft gag as he hits the back of my throat, and a louder one when he begins to buck softly against it. "C'mon, girl.. you can take it..."

With both hands bracing myself against his legs, I breathe in his scent through my nose. A muffled "mmh--" escapes from my lips, and after bobbing back and forth a few times I feel his crown slide past my body's natural resistance, into the warm, rippling embrace of my throat. Drool slops over the rim of my lips, soaking his balls in the moments before he pulls back out. I gasp, and leer up at him with the spit still bridging the gap between mouth and cock.

"You're ruining my hair."

He snorts with amusement. "Fuck your hair. It's your mouth I want."

I grin, brown eyes twinkling with delight. "You're such an asshole, Finn."

He shrugs, nods. "Yeah. But so are you, Bree."

"Myeah.."

His cock disappears back into my mouth, sliding smoothly from crown to base with expert finesse. He grunts, satisfied.

It's not all cocks, of course. Plenty of women around these parts, too, and when you get close enough you can smell them through their clothes, all their musk and perfume, their pent-up need and frustration. But I've yet to have a woman face-fuck me the way men of the tall folk do, and maybe that's for the best. I don't need to add another vice to the list I have already. First on which, in case you hadn't guessed, is cock. Because it's really not hard to find good cock if you're a halfling wench like me. Most tall-folk wouldn't take the time to search for something as small as a halfling woman's clit, but on the other hand, even an average human cock is big when faced with my diminutive cunt. And big humans-- well, those tend to take some work. Not to mention elves, with their long, slender rods, or the half-orcs, of whom I have only seen a few, and who are said to possess cocks like horses. A bit much for me, perhaps, but I've never been one to back down from a challenge.

"Your hair is better loose, anyway. Not this bun bullshit." His voice is strained with pleasure, drifting out from somewhere above me.

"Mmmuck mou," I groan, lips straining around his shaft as I grin up at him. He laughs, pulls out his cock with a wet pop. "What's that, love?"

"Fuck you!"

He laughs again and puts both hands on my head, pulls me back onto his cock until the tip fills out my throat again. "Maybe next time, little one."

Spit clings to his cock as he begins to fuck my throat in earnest, long, smooth strokes that leave me little room to breathe, but which make his cock swell and strain against the confines of my mouth. Wet, sloppy, gagging sounds echo around the alley as he works himself between my lips again and again and again, plump nuts slapping rhythmically against my chin. Both his hands seize, claw-like, around my skull, and I feel him tense in the seconds before his eruption. When it comes, I am prepared; I thrust forward, burying my face in his coarse pubes, and swallow around him as the first jet of cum erupts into my throat. Then another, and another, and I am forced to pull back for air, and still he cums, great big jets of spunk painting my lips and nose and chin and brow. Only my pointed ears avoid his gushing fountain, and finally the spurts die down to a lush trickle of thick, pearly jizz.

I've not been back to a halfling village in a long time. City life suits me more, and despite my stature, I can take care of myself. I've found friends and employment, some more reputable than others, and I am content. Life in the village was dull, the same routines every day, with the prospect of being married off to some other halfling hick looming on the horizon. The city is never dull, and there is never a dearth of new people to meet, new friends and allies, new enemies, new lovers. Few are willing to trust a halfling, but I don't trust them right back, so it all evens out. And while employment is often scarce and always temporary, I have found other ways of boosting my income when times are lean. That's what the city does. It gives opportunities to the opportunistic and the entrepreneurial, and that's exactly what I am. An entrepreneur. A doer. I go where things happen, and if things aren't happening, I make them happen.

That's who I am. What's what I do.

His legs are shaking, and we are somehow equally out of breath. Some drops have spilled down onto my cleavage, but miraculously, my dress has gone entirely undamaged. Using one finger to scrape along my face, I do my best to remove his cum and slop it to the side, while he looks at me with a forlorn face.

"You not gonna swallow that?"

I make a face, one eyed closed to keep from getting spunk in it. "Pft. I've swallowed enough of your cum for a lifetime, Finn. More'n any whore on the docks."

"You do it so well." His voice is wistful, and then he laughs. "You'll want your cut, though."

"Nooo!" I roll my eyes sarcastically. "I just helped con a High Fane merchant and his retinue for a chance to suck your cock."

He pulls a purse from his belt, checks its content and then tosses it to me. "Hundred and twenty six. That's for the blowjob, too."

The weight of the purse seems to match roughly what he claims. I'm not going to count the cash with cum on my hands. Still, I snort and whip my dark hard at him. "I'm not a whore, Finn."

"No?" He shrugs. "My bad. The way you acted like a whore just now got me confused."

"Fuck you."

"Next time."

"Promise?"

It can be tough going it alone, when you are half the size of everyone else. I have a weapon, of course, and a good head on my shoulders. But still, it can be tough. I've seen other halflings in the city, trying to make it as I do, but they never lasted. Some, because I made sure of it. But most, because they insisted on going alone. On being and acting bigger than they were. That's just stupid. Our size is our strength. We go where we aren't seen, we hear what we weren't meant to. The others tried to shoulder it all, and naturally, they were crushed. Me? I prefer to have a partner. And I did. Until a while ago.

People come and go. The city changes, and with it, it's inhabitants. Those who cannot bend, break. And those who bend too far are swept away. I don't think I will ever know what happened to Finn. It doesn't much matter. He's gone, and I'm still here. One tiny, feisty halfling in the big, bad world. No doubt my mother would be terrified for me. But I have a decent sword and a place to sleep; I have friends and allies all over the city. I have money in my pocket, the last few coins from the merchant con. I'm going to be fine.

I'm going to be fine.

It is my cakeday. 3 years on Reddit. This is how I celebrate.