Caras the Lecherous cleric sat in the usual corner of the tavern where he always sat to get the best view of the place. In his lap was an invention of his own, the wank-tent, which was exactly what it sounded like. His 10 inch, wrist thick penis was at full mast underneath it as he observed the serving wenches bustle back and froth in their relatively low cut dresses. Not that they needed to be low cut, with the size of some of their udders they couldn’t hide em under three layers.

At the end of it all though, there were only two women that had caught his attention. An adventuring party that came into the tavern looking for just what he was: A cleric. He took one look at them and knew what their classes were immediately: A paladin and a rogue.

The overweight priest picked up the pace in his wanking tent, usually content to watch the barmaids, blow his load and bounce, today Caras had a different objective. He would ingratiate himself to the two adventurers and join their party. This was the chance for his glorious adventure, this was when he would make a name for himself.

He gazed at the two of them sitting at their table, eyes nearly watering with lust.

The paladin, he’d heard her name as Freida, was a huge bitch. Almost seven feet tall, she was certainly a half giant by looks of her. She wore a full set of plate armor, but it did very little to hold back her Jamambos. They were encased in custom armor, but each round ball was at least the size of his head.

“Wench…” He croaked, looking for the nearest serving girl. She didn’t hear him, and he tried again loudder. “Wench!”

This time the barmaid came over. He recognized her, one of the farmers girls. She was a healthily plump girl, with a thick body and tits as large as all the others forced into a bodice she likely hadn’t been able to afford to change since she grew into it.

He hoped she stayed broke and kept growing so one day her massive udders would pop out in public from the sheer weight of them. The thought made him smile warmly at her as she approached.

He didn’t slow the frantic pace of his other hand moving up and down inside his tent. After many incidents, most of the barmaids knew what he was doing but no one could ever prove it so he always got away with it, as he did with most things.

She grimaced at the sight of the wank tent, imagining all manner of iniquities going on in there.

“What will it be… your holiness.” She practically had to choke that last part out.

“Two beers!” At the edge of cumming, he slowed himself, catching his breath. He wiped some sweat from his forehead and looked back up at her, clearing his throat. “Two beers please.”

She turned around to get them, and with a quick glance around to make sure no one was watching, he reached out toward her.

*WHAP*

He grabbed a thick handful of her fat ass. His fingers sunk into the right cheek, squuezing the soft globe underneath her frock, while he watched closely to see the imprints his fingers were making on the cheek.

She turned around, looking indignant just as he pulled his hand away. He was already looking away and whistling innocently, even as she opened her mouth to say something. However they’d done this dance several times, and the end result was always the same. Did she have any witnesses? Of course not.

So she swallowed her pride and went off to fetch the beers.