sighing blissfully, utterly unaware of the other man watching all, staring up between her spread legs. With two fingers she pressed down on her core and arched her back, breasts jutting upward, proud and full. Guy stared at the precious scarlet jewel between her fingers and needed, so badly, to lap at it with his tongue, to feel it swell with passion. One glance at his friend’s upturned face told him they shared the same grinding need to eat that pussy.
“Is this how you entertained yourself in that convent?” he muttered thickly.
A contented smile told him he guessed correctly. She was certainly well practiced with those fingers.
“That is a beautiful little treasure purse, Deorwynn,” he murmured. “Soft as kidskin. I can taste it from here and feel it open and wet on my tongue. I know how tight that warm haven would be on my shaft if I sought to steal away your treasure.”
She moaned softly, licking her lips, her fingers working faster at the little, glowing bud.
“Shall I tell you how I’d fuck you, Deorwynn?”
She shook her head, eyes half closed. Crouched behind her, Thierry had taken his prick out and worked it in his fist with a rapid rhythm. Guy was surprised she didn’t hear the slapping sound.
Looking again at her pink slit, watching her fingers burrow into it, Guy spoke softly and slowly. “First I’d mount you carefully, inch by inch; then I’d thrust faster and deeper. I’d take that little cunt to heaven on my cock. If you could fit me all in, of course. Do you think you could sheath all of me inside you? Look at me, Deorwynn. Look at what I have for you. What I want to give you.”
* * * *
Through dazed eyes she looked down at the man on the couch, at the massive cock in his hand, and knew again the reckless thrill, seeing him stare and hunger for her in that fierce way.
She gasped, her fingers working hard, while his eyes studied the motion, his face moving closer until his breath whispered across her knuckles.
“Can you feel me inside you, Deorwynn, as I can feel myself fucking you?” He stood the broad head of his staff only inches from her. “You’re squeezing my cock so hard, naughty wench. I feel every silken ridge of your sweet Saxon pussy, milking me. I’m coming inside. So deep inside you’ll taste me in the back of your throat. Hold me, my sweet.”
She came.
Crying out she almost lost her balance, but two hands came under her arms to catch her from behind, grabbing her bared breasts.
Another man was there?
Confused, she was still trembling with orgasm, her juices wetting her own fingers, as she looked down at the anonymous hands cupping her hot breasts and squeezing.
Suddenly Guy released in an exultant gush, spewing his seed across her stomach. “Did I not tell you she was a beauty, Thierry?” he gasped, half-laughing. “What say you?”
Thierry? Astonished, she fought those clasping hands and spun around to find his friend behind her.
“You were right, Devaux,” he chuckled. “Juicy as a mid-summer peach.”
She was horrified. The other man had been there the entire time and seen all.
“It seems I won the wager.” Guy grinned. “Didn’t need to touch you did I?”
She fought for breath, cursing and spitting. Finally she remembered to drop her shift and cover her lower half, the linen sticking to the thick, wet streaks of semen on her skin.
“Come back to the couch, my sweet. We’re not done. My friend and I have a hankering to share your ripe fruit and harvest all night long. You’ll be well entertained, just as you’ve entertained us.”
That was all she was to Guy Devaux – entertainment. Like a minstrel or a gypsy dancer. Or a whore to share with his friend.
“Never! Villain! Filthy, rotten, no-good Norman pig.”
“Yes?”
She ran for the door. Although she fully expected to be chased down, they let her go. She could hear Devaux laughing as she stumbled shakily down the corridor back to the women’s chamber.
* * *
“Is this how you entertained yourself in that convent?” he muttered thickly.
A contented smile told him he guessed correctly. She was certainly well practiced with those fingers.
“That is a beautiful little treasure purse, Deorwynn,” he murmured. “Soft as kidskin. I can taste it from here and feel it open and wet on my tongue. I know how tight that warm haven would be on my shaft if I sought to steal away your treasure.”
She moaned softly, licking her lips, her fingers working faster at the little, glowing bud.
“Shall I tell you how I’d fuck you, Deorwynn?”
She shook her head, eyes half closed. Crouched behind her, Thierry had taken his prick out and worked it in his fist with a rapid rhythm. Guy was surprised she didn’t hear the slapping sound.
Looking again at her pink slit, watching her fingers burrow into it, Guy spoke softly and slowly. “First I’d mount you carefully, inch by inch; then I’d thrust faster and deeper. I’d take that little cunt to heaven on my cock. If you could fit me all in, of course. Do you think you could sheath all of me inside you? Look at me, Deorwynn. Look at what I have for you. What I want to give you.”
* * * *
Through dazed eyes she looked down at the man on the couch, at the massive cock in his hand, and knew again the reckless thrill, seeing him stare and hunger for her in that fierce way.
She gasped, her fingers working hard, while his eyes studied the motion, his face moving closer until his breath whispered across her knuckles.
“Can you feel me inside you, Deorwynn, as I can feel myself fucking you?” He stood the broad head of his staff only inches from her. “You’re squeezing my cock so hard, naughty wench. I feel every silken ridge of your sweet Saxon pussy, milking me. I’m coming inside. So deep inside you’ll taste me in the back of your throat. Hold me, my sweet.”
She came.
Crying out she almost lost her balance, but two hands came under her arms to catch her from behind, grabbing her bared breasts.
Another man was there?
Confused, she was still trembling with orgasm, her juices wetting her own fingers, as she looked down at the anonymous hands cupping her hot breasts and squeezing.
Suddenly Guy released in an exultant gush, spewing his seed across her stomach. “Did I not tell you she was a beauty, Thierry?” he gasped, half-laughing. “What say you?”
Thierry? Astonished, she fought those clasping hands and spun around to find his friend behind her.
“You were right, Devaux,” he chuckled. “Juicy as a mid-summer peach.”
She was horrified. The other man had been there the entire time and seen all.
“It seems I won the wager.” Guy grinned. “Didn’t need to touch you did I?”
She fought for breath, cursing and spitting. Finally she remembered to drop her shift and cover her lower half, the linen sticking to the thick, wet streaks of semen on her skin.
“Come back to the couch, my sweet. We’re not done. My friend and I have a hankering to share your ripe fruit and harvest all night long. You’ll be well entertained, just as you’ve entertained us.”
That was all she was to Guy Devaux – entertainment. Like a minstrel or a gypsy dancer. Or a whore to share with his friend.
“Never! Villain! Filthy, rotten, no-good Norman pig.”
“Yes?”
She ran for the door. Although she fully expected to be chased down, they let her go. She could hear Devaux laughing as she stumbled shakily down the corridor back to the women’s chamber.
* * *
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