FSE

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When people take up the adventuring life, they give up the normal expectations of a house and home, friends and family to which they can return. So, instead, they must make tenuous connections with fellow travelers and become little more than acquainted with those scant few spots they always return to.

Even with a different facade, owner, and offerings, the very concept of an inn is enough to be a foundational experience.

So, one such adventurer finds himself in one such establishment on a cold, rainy evening. Many find themselves huddled together and speaking of the trials and triumphs they have made. If the people they’ve loved and lost, they are sharing stories of the trials and triumphs they have faced. They speak of the people they’ve loved and lost and of the adventures yet to come, creating a bond of shared experiences of the adventures yet to come.

But for him and a few others, all they care for is to sit down, take off their traveling gear, and relax in the comforting atmosphere of the inn.

The adventurer orders a warm drink and collapses by the fire, sitting by a small stage. A slight skittering catches his attention as he brings the warming liquid to his lips. He grabs his sidearm and looks over his shoulder, only to glance at the bright lime scales of the tiny creature weaving effortlessly through the weary wanderers.

The sight of the kobold warmed the traveler’s heart as the drink warmed his belly, and it did even more so when the kobold hopped onto the stage, clasped their hands together, and bowed. “Good evening, friends!” the diminutive dragon chirped. “Allow me to sing you a song of my people on this fine day, that you may remember a home you never had!”

It is an intriguing proposition, to be sure. There couldn’t be much similarity between homes of the forest or cave-dwelling folk and a human-like traveler, but he listened, watching.

The kobold’s throat wobbles as they place a hand upon their chest. The language that comes from their mouth is melodious, to be sure, but the yipping chorus means nothing to the simple fighter. It is more the intention behind those notes that captures his imagination.

But more importantly, the swaying of the hips and the spinning of the body catch his breath. They enrapture his attention, making him grip his seat, lean in, and stare as clawed hands run down over the purple outfit, past that exposed tummy, and down over that long, thick tail.

So much time away from home… so much time away from people he could be close to… it does something to a person, no doubt.

Before he knows it, the kobold is bowing as the crowd cheers and snaps him out of his trance. The adventurer claps and nods his approval toward the kobold, but his hands freeze when the dancer’s eyes match his. Coins pitter at the kobold’s feet, and they scoop them up with much appreciation, disappearing as it were to a corner of the tavern with a happy slight hum., and they scoop them up with much appreciation, disappearing as if they were in

Some time passes amidst the crackling fire, and the adventurer finishes their drink. The courage from that last gulp, mixed with the memory of that song and dance, pushes him to stand and make his way to the opposite end of the tavern.

The dancers sit there, counting out their coppers and silvers. They look up as the adventure approaches, their smiles broad and welcoming. “Hello there, good sir. Is there something I can get you?”

The adventurer sits across from the kobold, tapping his fingers gently against the table, their lips quivering.

The kobold’s eyes flutter, and they tap their cheek. “Well, for starters, my name is Snaklu. Indeed, did you come here asking for something? I can see it in your eyes, even if you don’t. You want companionship for the night, do you not?”

The adventurer gasps, gripping the table. But after a moment’s hesitation, he nods.

Snaklu snickers slightly, scooping up the coins. “This I can do for you, for a price, of course, but I will surely make it worth the coin.”

The adventurer reaches for his belt, gulping, his lips trembling.

“Of course,” Snaklu says, clearing their throat and lacing their fingers together. “There’s something I need you to know first, and it is a sticking point for many, but not all, humans.”

The adventurer pauses, parting their lips but then closing them, motioning for Snaklu to continue.

“My performance enamors many,” Snaklu says, crossing one leg over the other. “But they come with the wrong impression. I may show off myself as many dancers of these realms do, but they come to me, thinking that I am a lady of the night. That is incorrect.”

The adventurer takes a breath, but Snaklu raises a hand. “They are not incorrect because I am not one to sell my body for an adventurer.” They chuckle, flashing a toothy grin to the adventurer. “They are incorrect because despite being a cute little whore for them, I’m not, in fact, a lady. Does my being a male bother you?”

The adventurer pushes himself up from the table quickly, arms trembling.

“I understand perfectly,” says Snaklu. He nods. “I don’t want to give you any nasty surprieee!”

Before realizing what was happening, Snaklu is lifted by the adventurer, who scoops him in one hand and throws a bag of gold at him in the other.

The kobold fumbles with the pouch momentarily before he narrows his gaze, growling seductively. “Oh, wow, well then. Seems I have my work cut out for me! I’m in the second room by the back window.”

With those directions, the adventurer takes Snaklu straight back. For tonight, at least, there shall be no loneliness.

________________

Inside the coziness of the inn’s common room is the even more cozy situation of a private bedroom. It’s quite a luxury for anyone to take. For a traveling dancer whose performances are wildly appreciated, it is a luxury that Snaklu can afford.

Snalu leads his client to the bed and motions for the adventurer to sit. “Please, make yourself comfortable. The show shall begin shortly.”

When the adventurer kicks off his shoes and shuffles out of his shirt, Snaklu giggles, twirling around, his hands up high, his hips swaying. “Already, you seek the intimacy of skin-to-scale contact, but there’s so much to enjoy beforehand.” He slips the sash from his hip, his hands up high in the air, rolling his hips and stomach hypnotic. He tosses the scarf, and it flutters toward the adventurer, who catches it and drapes it over his shoulders.

Snaklu titters, hopping up on the bedside chair, swinging one leg out and onto the bed while placing a hand on his thigh and sliding it up his side, fingers hooking the side, and lifting the top up and off of him.

He tumbles onto the bed, crawling up between the adventurer’s legs, his eyes narrowed and fluttering, his mouth opening, and his tongue, oh his tongue, rolling out, on and on. He tilts his head back, and that long, wet thing reaches down to his collar, nestling between his bones.

The man clasps the cloth around his neck, gasping, and the kobold slips his hands down, removing the adventurer’s pants, freeing his already throbbing hard monster, and letting that tongue of his get to work.

It wraps around that pole with grace, slipping and dancing around it like a miniature dancer, flicking at the tip, teasing at the hole, and sliding back down.

The dance serves a purpose—it slicks up the adventurer. It makes him ready, and Snaklu shows that he, too, is prepared by whirling around, his tail raised high, his butt wiggling.

The adventurer reaches forward and yanks the leggings down, exposing that kobold rear to him, showing off that kobold hole, ready for more.

“Come on,” says Snaklu, glancing over his shoulder, fluttering his eyes. “You didn’t pay me just so I could tease you, did you?”

The adventurer pushes himself up, pulling the scarf off his neck and wrapping it around Snaklu’s stomach. The kobold yelps as he’s pulled back, his butt pressing up against that waiting shaft and his tail slapping against the taller man’s chest.

There’s no waiting before the man pushes himself in, filling the kobold and spreading him out. And like a true professional, Snaklu takes it, his body spreading, his stomach bulging.

With the strength of the human pulling him, Snaklu is lifted, pressed his back against his tail and his tail against the man’s chest; he gasps and rolls his eyes, his head leaning back and his horns hooked over the adventurer’s shoulders. He groans as the man rocks into him, bulging out his stomach with his kobold anatomy, his length already out in full force, twitching and ready. It sprinkles with pre as the kobold bounces on that man’s cock, Snaklu’s toes digging into the mattress, his hands moving up to hold onto the adventurer’s arms and get any support that he can.

The adventurer is ravenous, bouncing up and squeaking the bed. The whole time, through this insatiable fucking, Snaklu bounces on him, their bodies rubbing together, flesh and scale, a smile forming on Snaklu’s face as he rolls his hips and works into a dance, turning this primal situation into one of passion and desire.

The adventurer loses his grip on the sash, and it falls to Snaklu’s hips. The waving dance of the kobold makes it bounce and slide over his thighs and down onto the mattress in a little pile.

So much intimacy is passed between the two of them—an anonymous adventurer and a professional prostitute, and yet, in this homey environment, that is all that is needed for the man to groan into the kobold’s ear, thrusting up into him one last time, and releasing.

Snaklu grits his teeth, his whole body seizing up as he feels spurt upon spurt of human cum shooting up into him. He cries out in a high-pitched, almost feminine voice as his wand erupts, sending ropes of his kobold cum all over the bed and onto the pants of his companion.

When the man finally finished, he slumped back, falling onto the bed, pulling the kobold. The consummation is complete. Snaklu wraps his tail around his companion and holds him close, tapping the man’s hand and snuggling up against him. “Well, I certainly hope that was worth the money,” the kobold purrs.

By the sounds of the snores coming from the adventurer, it was indeed a job well done.

—

By the time the adventurer awakens, there is no more sign of his little companion. He gladly paid for a meal and looked around the room, only to be interrupted by the bartender’s thoughts.

“If you’re lookin’ for Snaklu, he’s no longer here. He left in the night like most kobolds do.”

When traveling, it isn’t only the tall ones that do so; when the night calls, the nocturnal creatures slip out. Some of the later drinkers would watch Snaklu slip out of the bedroom, slipping back on the last of his garments and weaving his way through the crowd. If no one had seen him go in with a stranger, they would be none-the-wiser at his state of insemination, but he knows full well that he has a belly full of cum and a pouch full of coin.

And to a worker like this kobold, that is home, very much indeed!