a sequel to A Taste of Her Own Hospitality
It had been a month since Hestia last had sex.
She wasn't taking it well.
She'd only lost her virginity within this mortal coil only a few months ago. Virgin goddess as she was, she'd only earned that moniker due to avoiding advances by fellow Gods. So why not try and see what the fuss was about with a mortal?
Bell, of course, was the only real choice for her. In the beginning they seemed perfect partners. They were each other's firsts, mutual teachers in the act of physical intimacy. It wouldn't take long before Hestia was hooked. Though the first nights had been a tad awkward, a tad shameful, Hestia took to the pastime with increasing vigor as the weeks went by.
Something about loosening her mind with her loins, giving in to these primal urges that pulsed through her earthly body, to feel such physical attention and appreciation for her very form, it all enthralled Hestia. In all her countless years in a corporeal form, she'd seldom felt anything this good. She loved sex so much, loved having sex with Bell so much to the point that any time she was alone, she thought about Bell returning and filling her up all over again. It was mutually beneficial during those initial weeks; Hestia's burgeoning desires would get their fill from a fit and virile young adventurer driven by hormones, and Bell would vent the stresses he'd endured during grueling days making inroads within the bowels of the dungeon.
As eager as they both were, Bell could only keep up for so long.
Hestia tksed as she thought back to that time a month ago. She had been so eager on that day in particular, had thought of Bell her entire day, fingering out her frustrations until she was a panting lonesome mess.
When he got home and was all washed up and proper ready, after they went through the motions and the bed was creaking out below Hestia's eager bucking hips, she could only wring out one climax from him. Hestia remembered his apologetic face when she whined for more, when she accused him of practicing too much with other women (there was a brief glint of guilt in his eye that Hestia would be wont to store in her longterm memory).
She settled down after the initial surprise of course; Hestia wasn't stupid, she knew that he'd been more worn out as of late, her mounting needs surprising even her. Though he could still physically keep up with her reservoir of desire with the longevity gifted to him through her blessing of falna, entire nights of passionate lovemaking didn't bode well for him mentally. He was a growing boy after all. In the weeks to follow, she gave Bell the space he needed to recover, trying to manage her own by herself.
At first, the challenge didn't demand as much as she thought it needed out of her. Then, it got to the month-long mark.
Now, all of it was washing over her all at once, drowning out all sense of reason; she was more horny than ever all of a sudden. Her loins pulsed and ached to be claimed, her womb empty without Bell's offering. She had been venting her frustrations at home since the morning, was writhing in her own sweat and shame through the afternoon, and before she knew it, the sun was setting.
Where was this coming from?
Bell came home as she was eating her first meal. Something flared up inside of her at the sight of him…but even in her state, she could see how weary his eyes were as he gave her that warm smile. She controlled herself, letting him clean up and go to bed early.
It was why Hestia now roamed the streets of Orario. It was too stifling to be in there again, knowing Bell was in the room next door, the walls seeming to close in on her. She needed some cold night air, stretching out these earthly legs. She was a goddess, not an animal. Her body's carnal wants needn't overcome her better judgment.
The thought made Hestia tsk again. She looked up at the star-studded sky of night.
It was this damned body that was at fault. Immortal goddess as she was, taking corporeal form meant some things inherent to a mortal coil would remain. Gods supplanted the lack of arcanum by feeding off the sustenance of the lower world, their bodies required breath to sustain their inner workings, sweat cooled the skin of their molded flesh. Hestia continued this line of logic and reached a conclusion:
She was, as the mortals called it, "ovulating".
Gods were sterile. This was an unbroken and unbendable fact. So of course, unlike the need to eat, the bodily need to copulate was one that didn't have any root in any sort of necessity. In Heaven, desire still existed, lovemaking between Gods seen as the utmost manifestation of it. The difference was, in their true forms, their bodies didn't need the release that stemmed from the monthly cycle of a mortal female's biology.
Even a virgin goddess couldn't ignore those pangs forever. She had been alive in this form for centuries and had still remained chaste, long aware of the body's tendency to overpower reason and sense due to biological needs. But now that she'd embraced those carnal desires, a small monthly window of time that would usually pass over as a slight nuisance was now overpowering her entire being. She felt like a beast in heat.
Hestia pouted as she sipped on a tankard of mead. The blue of her eyes glazed over, staring into the flames flickering in long stretches atop their nest of logs. She had wandered into a tavern some time ago and was situated in front of the hearth, hoping to distract herself by drowning out the roiling inferno of her needs with alcohol. A vice for a vice.
Hestia raised the tankard to her lips again, lips met with but a drop. She gave a sigh of frustration. That was her fourth one, and she still didn't even feel a buzz.
What she did feel was that unbearable heat between her legs. Images of what she wanted flashed through her mind, images of Bell, images of the way his fit body gleamed in the lamplight of her bedroom, images of him entering h-
Hestia shook her head, rattling the thoughts away for a moment. The alcohol might as well have been water.
She slumped into the sofa, crossing her legs. A flush was on her cheeks. She just had to weather through this. It was only one more night, and those damned sensations would go away as they always did. She prayed for strength.
A few minutes after that, and Hestia's prayers were answered.
The merchant spotted her from the moment she entered the tavern.
It was his second week or so exploring Orario, a city he'd decided to explore on a whim when he saw it in the distance. Now, with his ship undergoing maintenance in the dry dock, he'd have more time to burn. Every day brought on new adventures and new business. He'd already sampled some of the local beauties, particularly spending a significant amount of time with a lovely half-elf receptionist, but he knew the city had more to offer.
He'd decided to spend this particular evening to scope out that next conquest in a part of town he'd never been in. It'd been a good hour or two, and he was close to settling for the buxom bartender when his prayers were answered.
He watched her from across the room as she went up to the bar to order a drink.
She was a petite little thing, the tip of her head coming up to his chest at the most if she were to stand in front of him. She had jet-black hair that flowed down past her thighs, its length split up into twintails bound by identical hairties fashioned into flowerlike petals. Piercing blue eyes. She wore a white dress and a matching set of gloves.
Her height, the way she had her hair done up, and that round pretty face of hers denoted a sense of youth, but that impression was shattered when his eyes got a good look at the rest of her; her slim body had curves in all the right places. Hips that gave a perfect flare to a tight and perky rump, smooth and long legs for days, and, most noticeably, an ample chest that must have been endowed by the Gods themselves.
It helped that the dress she wore left little to the imagination, their bottom hem cut off right below the curve of her lower cheeks, her smooth arms bare of any sleeves. In the front of the dress, there was an opening that cut low for a good peek at her cleavage, and in the back, a large window giving an unhindered view of her smooth back, dipping down to the base of her spine.
Complementing the dress were two blue ribbons: one tied around her frame with a knot on her left arm, one tied in an ornamental bow around her neck. He watched her breasts bounce atop that ribbon with every step she took. Bow and all, the woman was like a present waiting to be unwrapped.
A lump formed in the stranger's throat.
He kept looking at her for a while, watching as she took a seat in front of the hearth, alone. She didn't seem to be waiting for anyone, going up to the bar for round after round of mead- she could certainly knock them back. The stranger went up to the bar after he saw her sit back down with her third.
"Little goddess catch your eye, eh?"
The bartender said as she slid over a fresh tankard of mead.
The stranger raised his brow at her.
"Really? A God?"
The bartender chuckled, leaning over the counter. The stranger's eyes glanced at her tits. She was a great flirt, but all of a sudden her assets didn't seem as impressive as he thought earlier on in the evening.
"I forgot you're not from around here, mister. What did you think Gods looked like, anyway?"
"I don't know," he shrugged, raising the tankard to his lips. "A bit taller?"
They shared a chuckle.
"Lots of them are. But they are here in mortal form after all. They don't look much different from the rest of us."
"Either way, don't they have doting followers? Familia, right?"
The bartender nodded, leaning back again to wipe the bar counter out of habit as they both kept their gazes on the woman in front of the fireplace.
"Yes, well. Haven't seen her much but Hestia isn't exactly one of the more popular Gods," the bartender's eyes drifted back to the stranger. "They might be immortal, but that doesn't mean us mortals are meant to be at their beck and call. They earn renown like the rest of us. You're a merchant. You should know that not every merchant is capable of leading a guild."
She nodded to Hestia.
"I heard her familia only has a handful of members. Around 4 or 5."
A sense of familiarity struck the stranger then. Hestia…that half-elf woman he'd been shacking up with had told him about her. The goddess of the familia that boy Bell belonged to. He took another sip of his mead. He could see that troubled look on her face from across the room, wondered what was on her mind.
Regardless, now knowing who she was, the merchant's resolve to get to know her better doubled. He kept staring at her.
"I've heard of her. She seems lonely."
The bartender smirked. A few moments later she slammed another fresh tankard in front of him.
"Then go and fix it," she said, meeting the bemused cock of his brow with a flirty smirk on her lips. "This one's on the house."
"Aren't you generous?"
"Well," the bartender gave another sly smirk, leaning over the counter with a bat of her eyelashes. "on the house if you promise to give me a turn later."
The stranger rolled his eyes.
"I knew there was small print."
"Nothing small about me, mister."
They shared a chuckle as he leaned over to give the bartender a quick kiss.
"Yeah, we'll see about that." he picked up the tankards and raised them up in a gesture of thanks, already making his way to where Hestia sat. "Wish me luck?"
It was the bartender's turn to roll her eyes. She'd known the man for less than a couple hours but she already knew he was the rare kind of stud to put his money where his mouth is.
"You know you don't need any."
"Mind if I join you?"
Hestia's reverie was broken as a man stood over her. She studied him, giving him a once over. He was dressed like a man familiar with money. Crisp collared shirt, a fine suit to go along with it. Not exactly a nobleman, but most likely a merchant. A warm grin was on his face, but Hestia didn't need her divine perception to know the intentions lay behind it.
"Why?" she said, a bit cold. Hestia was no stranger to being courted, but as unpopular a Goddess as she was, her reputation let most of these kinds of men know not to approach her. He must not have been from around here. "There are plenty of other seats in this tavern."
"Of course," the stranger said with a shrug before giving a point with his chin. "But then again, none of them have a beautiful goddess like you to keep me company."
Hestia should have rolled her eyes but the words just left her speechless. The gall on this man. Her cheeks grew a little pink. In the silence, the stranger put out his hand, proffering her a fresh tankard of mead.
"Either way, it looks like you need another round…"
Hestia looked at the alcohol in his outstretched grip before looking up at him again. The warmth of the hearth flickered on his cheek, that cocky grin of his stretched out on his lips. His dark eyes peered down at her, and Hestia found herself caught in them for a moment. They roiled with desire. It was a different look the usual drunk adventurer or rakish town flirts would give her. No, the look seemed primed for her and only her. Unashamed to let her know his intentions, honest in the way they told her he wanted her.
She swallowed, before breaking the lock of their gaze and made her decision. He was brazen, to be sure. But it wouldn't hurt to have someone to talk to for a few minutes. At least she got a free drink.
"Fine," Hestia said, setting aside the empty tankard in her lap and snatching the one in his grip. She put on a haughty visage, turning towards the fire again. "But only for this one drink."
"Any time spent with the divine is a privilege."
He sat himself next to her, joining her in staring into the fire as he began to talk.
As she suspected, the stranger was a traveling merchant. He was vague about where he came from, but it was clear from his slight accent and the darker skin that it wasn't anywhere near Orario. Hestia remained mostly silent initially, letting him prattle on, letting him try to employ his tools to impress her.
Halfway through the tankard of mead, and Hestia was the one talking. She supposed it was because of how little interaction she'd had as of late, dealing with these urges for the past week by herself. Despite herself, the man was easy to talk to, the warmth in his eyes denoting genuine interest.
They kept chatting. It didn't take long until he earned her first giggle. At this point, Hestia's body was turned towards him now as he kept entertaining her with tales and trading banter. She couldn't help but begin to notice the effortless charm of his smile. A few minutes after that, and she couldn't help but begin to notice the broadness of his shoulders, the way his firm body filled out the fabric of his shirt, how large his hands were as he draped an arm atop the sofa's back.
Hestia was enjoying this stranger's company. It'd been less than a half hour but she found herself drawn to this man in a way she hadn't felt in a long time, if ever. She justified it to herself, of course.
Her mead was long-empty now, but she still let him stay.
Even when his flirts only grew more daring as they chatted, even when the way he'd make eyes at her filled her with a sense of dangerous excitement. Even when he'd slipped himself close to her on the sofa, cornering her against the edge, and that arm of his was right behind her.
Hestia knew where this was going, but she wasn't going to let it. His face was closer to his now as he kept talking, as he kept lowering his voice to make her face drift closer to his until his hot breath wisped against her cheeks. Her chest tightened at it, fluttering at the feeling of his attention and his desire.
This was fine, she knew he was an incorrigible flirt, just another scoundrel who saw her as another potential conquest.
At least he was something to take her mind off things.
A few minutes after that, and Hestia learned how wrong she was.
"Mmm…"
Hestia let out a soft whimper against his mouth.
It had all happened so fast, but somehow he had wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and somehow she slid a gloved hand behind his neck, and somehow they were now swapping hot kisses instead of stories and flirts.
Her head shifted, accommodating him as their lips slid against one another, soft friction sparking heat to spread through her skin. Their noses brushed against one another as the kiss deepened. Hestia's free hand shot to his chest, fingers clutching at his shirt.
Contrary to what she told herself, Hestia's problem had gotten worse.
She didn't even try to resist as their kissing only grew more passionate, low groans from the stranger echoing down her throat. The arm around her pulled her in closer, her legs pressed against his. She could hear their mouths peel off each other in soft little smacks of air, the sounds growing louder, her mewls turning into moans. When the stranger slid his hand over her thigh as he gave her another deep kiss, Hestia realized how wet she was.
A few kisses later, the stranger slowed the pace, bringing the kisses to a stop by capturing her bottom lip between his teeth. Hestia let out a gasp as he pulled back, relinquishing her lip after giving it a small and teasing tug.
They looked into each other's eyes, shock filling Hestia as she realized what she was doing. How long had she been kissing him? She didn't even know his name!
"You look like you needed that."
His words turned Hestia red, and she looked away from his intense gaze. She slipped her arms off him, catching her breath as she tried to root herself. What was she doing?
"Don't b-be so quick to presume what a Goddess needs, scoundrel."
The stranger chuckled, the hand at her thigh sliding up, between her legs. Hestia clamped her legs together, biting her lip at the feeling of his fingers against such a sensitive portion of her skin. She didn't stop him.
"Scoundrel? Is that anyway to treat the man who's making you feel better?"
"You haven't-" Hestia snapped, only for her words to die in her throat when she turned her head only for his face to be mere inches away from hers. Their breaths mingled between their cheeks. Her pulse quickened. "...y-you haven't…I don't need to feel b-"
The stranger's mouth surged forward and captured hers again, Hestia's eyes shutting tight as she squeaked. She kissed him back without hesitation, a hand cupping his cheek, a hand at his neck to make him stay, to make sure she kept feeling good. She felt the hand at her thigh slide under her dress before she felt fingers brush against her heat. She whimpered, melting at the sensation, at how his fingers rubbed against her through her panties.
He pulled himself back from her mouth again, letting Hestia's cold visage melt in its entirety, her eyes looking up at him with a desperate furrowed brow, lips parted as needy breaths slipped out of her throat.
"Then let me try to make you feel better," he said, swooping down to kiss her neck, lips clamping down on her sensitive skin and giving soft suckles. Hestia groaned, a hand at her mouth to muffle the noises that he kept ripping out of her. "I promise I'll make you feel better."
Hestia believed him. Her eyelids fluttered as the fingers beneath her dress kept rubbing and rubbing, her panties growing damp. She wanted him. She wanted him now.
The last bastions of her pride gave their final stand.
"If there's one thing I've learned from humans after my time in the lower world… nghah!" Hestia was interrupted by a sudden mewl when the hand of the arm wrapped around her gave a sudden squeeze to her breast, groping her through her dress, rubbing her peak against his palm. "...it's to never…trust a merchant."
The stranger chuckled against her skin. Hestia shivered. Then, all at once, he pulled back from her; his hand withdrew from under her dress, the arm slid out from her shoulder, his head retreating from her neck. Hestia felt empty. She was inclined to lean into him, but what little restraint she had left made her stay where she sat.
He looked at her, eyes roaming up and down her body. Hestia felt so exposed, so vulnerable to this man. She closed her arms around her chest. Inside, she wished it was his arms instead.
"It would be another privilege to let the divine test my word, goddess," the stranger said, that insufferable smirk returning to his lips. "I mean it when I said I can make you feel better."
Hestia stayed silent.
She knew that they both knew her answer. But that last bulwark of pride remained steadfast. She gave him an attempt at a pout, turning her body away from him. Words refused to come to her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him stand to his feet, and Hestia's eyes couldn't help but look up at him with a side glance.
"Come on, I'm staying in a room upstairs," he pointed above them before the finger fell forward towards the stairs. "Not a long walk; it'll take less than a minute."
He extended the hand to her now. Hestia turned her head and considered it before her gaze went up to his face again, those piercing yet dark eyes, the fire that roiled behind them. She felt the same fire at the base of her loins. She looked at his hand now.
She felt that ache pulse through her.
Without a word, Hestia took his hand, and followed his lead.
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