Frieren: The Wood

Disclaimer: All characters depicted in this story are aged up to 18 or older, regardless of their ages in the original source material. All encounters portrayed are consensual. This work is a piece of fanfiction, intended for entertainment purposes only, and does not reflect the canon of the original story. Content is created for an adult audience (18+) and may include mature themes. Reader discretion is advised.

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The morning light filtered through the inn's wooden shutters in the quiet town of Äußerst, where the party had stopped for rest after a long journey. Fern had slipped out early to fetch breakfast from the market, leaving Frieren and Stark alone in their shared room. Frieren, the ancient elf mage, stirred from her light sleep and noticed Stark shifting uncomfortably under his blanket, a noticeable tent forming from his morning erection.

Frieren tilted her head, her expression as blank as ever, and without a word, she reached over and tugged down his pants, exposing his throbbing problem. Stark's eyes shot open, his face turning beet red as he bolted upright.

"Miss Frieren! Wh-what are you doing?!" he stammered, trying to cover himself but hesitating under her unflinching gaze.

Frieren blinked slowly, unfazed. "It's just morning wood. I've seen humans deal with this for centuries."

Stark swallowed hard, his voice cracking. "Wait—before you do anything... are you sure you're okay with this? It's not... weird for you?"

She shrugged, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at her lips as she stood up, casually letting her loose pajamas slip off her slender, naked body. Without a hint of embarrassment, she climbed onto the bed between his legs, her cool skin brushing against his thighs. "Oh, come on. I'll take care of that for you. It's efficient. Hurry, before Fern comes back—she'd probably lecture us both."

Stark's breath hitched, his eyes wide as he stared at her exposed form. "F-Frieren... you're... wow..."

She gripped his shaft firmly with both hands, her touch surprisingly gentle yet precise, and leaned down to lick the glistening precum from the head, her tongue flicking slowly like she was savoring a curious potion ingredient. Stark groaned, his head falling back against the pillow. "This is... insane... but don't stop."

Frieren chuckled softly, that rare spark of humor in her eyes. "Humans and their hang-ups. Just think of it as mana circulation training—elf style."