If you hate nerds but for some reason still want to read this post the spicy begins at the ________.

So I'm (34f) roleplay...adjacent. I've read just as many books containing dragons as the next person but I'd rather dig my own grave than actually participate in any sort of immersive acting experience. Listening to podcasts of RPG campaigns makes me cringe into a black hole unless ALL they do is goof. My then-boyfriend, who we'll call T (34m), on the other hand, grew up steeped in high/dark fantasy and tabletop games. Sometimes I'll catch him feeling a lot of feelings because an important plot moment in one of his podcasts made him weepy. He's also, while a total 10/10 smokeshow with a perfect cock and a mouth to die for, the least barbarian person on the planet. Think Timothee Chalamet. I could throw him. Sometimes I do. This makes what developed between us a great deal funnier. 

One day, probably three years into the relationship, we planned a massage night. I notoriously have no sex drive at all but I can be jumpstarted, so this is a nice way to do foreplay and take the pressure off me by focusing on him. T mixed up some grapeseed/lavender oil, poured wine and lit candles. I laid down a bunch of blankets, a baking sheet for the oil jar, our trusty silicone lube, a cum towel, and an animal pelt I've had for years, for aMbiAncE. T made some kind of joking remark about how the pelt and candles made this all feel very primal and Game of Thrones. 

"Yeah," I said, laughing. "It must be soooooooo rough out there on the Wastes...doing...barbarian things." I straddled his back, squirting some oil on my hands and rubbing them together to warm it up. 

He ran with it instantly. "It's not the worst. The plunder is nice but I don't think I can take much more of this. I get hurt all the time and barbarians kind of suck to be around. It's nice to come out to the tavern to rest and recharge. " He adjusted his head on the mound of pillows so he could breathe easier.

Well shit. If he's going to start a bit, I'm always down for a good bit.

"Yeah I think they just built the Tavern out here because it was at the crossroads and it gets more traffic than other areas in the Wastes." I said, working the oil into his gorgeous, smooth back with long strokes. T sighed as I started to rub my thumbs in small circles up and down his spine. "I'm sorry the other guys in the Horde are giving you shit."

He moaned as I hit a knot between his shoulder blades. "They're always suspicious of me because I can read, which they think is gay and for wizards."

I worked the sides of my hands around his collarbone. "Ok, first of all, you can read? That's really cool, second of all barbarians do gay stuff all the time and I WOULD KNOW. You don't have a bunch of greased up hunks in loincloths full of testosterone rolling around the desert all the time without some type of somethin' somethin' goin on. There's a reason we have staff of all genders and most races here. Not an orc yet, but still."

Damn, turns out I'm pretty good at this roleplay thing.

"Granted I think the way we do wages is kind of fucked up. They were trying to pay the goblin in food and sparkly things. We really need a union." 

Fuck! I forgot about the sex. It's sexy roleplay! Focus! You're a whore at a fantasy brothel. Do your job.

T was fighting for his life at this point but he managed to wheeze "Wait what's testosterone?" before we both broke down and couldn't massage because we were laughing too hard. T turned over on his back and we took a smooch break to calm down. After things got a little more romantic and a little less cringe, T bit my ear softly. "Shall we continue?" 

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Because he was now on his back, I could feel his thick cock twitch against me. It was definitely time to escalate. I moved down his body, kissing his stomach and brushing his cock softly and "accidentally" with my tits before looking back up at him coyly. 

"I mean, you did pay for the full experience, so I could...massage your front". 

"That sounds great," he said softly, hitching his breath as I brushed my fingertips up and down his shaft. 

If I recall correctly, I wasn't that great at blowjobs at this point, so I think there was too much "put penis in mouth hard and repeatedly" and not enough of the twisting hand motion coupled with sloppy head action that I now know drives him wild. Regardless, it was working well enough. I loved having him stiffen in my mouth; I could feel the blood pumping into his cock as he writhed and moaned under my lips. Occasionally I squirted some silicone into my right hand so I could work him more smoothly. I wasn't hopeful about getting him to cum like this, and besides I wanted there to be something in it for me. Or rather I wanted something in me. 

I looked up and batted my eyelashes at him. "May I?" 

"Please." 

I grabbed a towel and wiped the lube and spit off my hand as I moved back up his body to kiss him deeply. With my other hand I started to guide his cock into me with shallow strokes, getting deeper as my body adjusted to him. I'm lucky he isn't a millimeter shorter, longer, narrower or wider than he is because it really feels like he belongs in me. Finally he was as deep as he could go and I sat up with a sigh of satisfaction, wiggling my hips as I felt him inside me and giving him a view of the scenery. He immediately said something like "uuenh" and grabbed the C-cup scenery with both hands.

I started to buck my hips into him, taking him almost all the way out before sinking back down. I bent double over him to feel him as deeply as possible. Unfortunately I got lost in the sauce and began moving too slowly, focusing instead on the delicious feeling of that cock sliding in and out of me. After a couple minutes of this he ran out of patience and grabbed my hips with one hand and the back of my neck with the other, thrusting up and into me hard and fast. My head was pinned to the pillow next to his and I was involuntarily moaning into his ear with each thrust, which was probably annoying, so I turned it a bit more and kissed his neck hard. 

I couldn't have him doing all the work, so I twisted out from his grip on my neck, pressed my weight onto his shoulders with both my hands and took back control of the rhythm. I was open and wet now and he moved his other hand down to my hips to hold me even further open for him. I began to kiss him without letting up as I rode him, as something indefinable about his breathing and movement let me know he was building up to an orgasm. He broke the kiss long enough to gasp "I'm gonna cum!" about three strokes before he unloaded deep inside me. 

One of my favorite things to do when riding him is watch him writhe as I fuck the last drops of cum out of him until he's too sensitive to continue, because he makes a hilarious and very satisfying face. His eyes rolled back in his head and his mouth gaped every time I clenched around him or shifted my weight, and finally he hugged me into stillness. "Thank you," I whispered in his ear. "Are you kidding? Thank you!"

We are not fond of getting cum everywhere so I grabbed a cloth as I felt him softening and clamped it between my legs to catch the puddle, moaning a last time a bit wistfully as I felt him slide out of me. It wasn't totally successful and the cum dripped onto his abs, looking tantalizing on his chiseled love lines but threatening to dribble onto our nice clean sheets. That's why they pay me the big bucks at the fantasy brothel, though, because I had gotten TWO washcloths. You're welcome! 

As I started awkwardly wobbling to the bathroom with the washcloth clenched between my thighs, T put his arms behind his head in classic triumphant post-orgasm dude style. "I'm so relaxed! I think I'll have to come back here more often!" 

I paused at the bathroom door because I couldn't let him have the last word.

"Thanks for stopping in! Remember to get a punch card on the way out!" 

...we never did unionize the fantasy brothel, but they did hire an orc. We've spent quite a few nights at the Barbarian Tavern since.