Enchantress (4 page)

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Authors: Georgia Fox

Tags: #Erotica, #historical erotica, #erotic romance, #anal, #historical erotic romance, #mfm, #medieval, #branding, #double penetration, #medieval erotic romance, #orgies, #enchantress, #medieval erotica, #georgia fox, #public exhibition, #seven brides for seven bastards, #mfmmmmmm, #twisted erotica publishing

BOOK: Enchantress
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Jesamyn tried to hold back, but her
climax was rough and raw. His tongue skillfully plundered her
treasures and managed to slide each coin up against her pearl until
she was panting, her teeth clenched hard to thwart the screams that
wanted out. She must maintain her customary aloofness. This boy
would not make her come undone.

For now she must let him think he had
control. Whatever he wanted she would give to him. Until it was
time to amend his misconception.

His mouth tightened on her sensitive
flesh and he sucked hard to draw the last coin from its niche. She
shuddered, knowing he would feel her pussy quaking, unable to hide
the pleasure he'd given her. Opening her eyes, she saw men's feet
getting closer as they now encouraged the victor to enjoy his
spoils. They chanted and whistled and thumped fists upon tables.
They wanted to watch. A few shouted that they hoped he was in a
generous mood and would share his bounty.

But when he lifted his face from her
wet pussy and their eyes met, she knew that whatever the rumors
regarding the d'Anzeray brood and their sexual proclivities, he was
not in a mood to share. Not tonight.

 

* * * *

 

He would happily have gone on eating
her cunt, but the crowd wanted a performance and he always enjoyed
showing off. So Nino quickly unlaced his chausses and let them drop
to his knees. Rather than mount her pussy, however, he kept her on
her back with her legs over her head and spat into her arsehole
then laved it with his tongue until it gleamed wet. The woman began
to complain, but he reminded her that she had not specified the
manner of coupling— only that he could not spill within
her.

"I want your arse first," he muttered,
"but worry not. Your pussy will be well filled at the same time."
Thus he began to ease his erect cock through her very tight rim.
She gasped and groaned under him, but her back alley opened slowly
to accommodate his size. It was obviously not the first time she'd
been had there, but she made a fuss of it, probably to please their
audience who now fell quiet as they watched him mounting her in
this crude manner.

Nino's pulse raced as he forced his
way deeper. Her eyes were open, staring up at him, angry and
challenging. His gaze traveled to her breasts again and he bent his
head to suckle one of those gold dusted pips. It swelled and then
hardened against his tongue. Her body flexed under his, her skin
coated with a thin sheen of perspiration, as was his now. He paused
to fling off his tunic.

Reaching between their bodies he used
two fingers in her pussy, so it wouldn't feel neglected.

Her muscles tightened on his long
fingers, pulling him in. At the same time, her bottom opened
further until his cock was more than half in with nothing more than
saliva to ease his way. He flicked his tongue over her jutting
nipple and felt her body trying to move under him. She could not,
of course; he had her bent in a position that gave her no
control.

Now the crowd began to shout again,
urging him on, marveling at the size of his cock and how far into
her anus he had submerged it. Nino withdrew slightly and then
forged forward again. The woman cried out in a foreign tongue he
could not identify, despite being fluent in three himself. He
suspected she'd cursed at him.

He added a third finger to her pussy,
forcing it into her, needing her subdued. The look in her eye was
just as it had once been behind a clay pot in the hot marketplace,
when she tried to claim that hiding place for herself. This
damnably arrogant, proud woman would be his, would let him
in.

After all, he had won her game, had he
not? She was a woman who fucked for coin now and he meant to get
his money's worth.

Despite her pretense at a pouting
protest, her pussy was sopping wet and it pulled his finger in
without difficulty. He could probably get his entire hand— his fist
in there. The thought almost made his cock explode. Nino leaned
back, sweating. He looked down at where his shaft plugged her anus.
She was stretched around it, her bottom straining against the
invasion. He studied his fingers moving in and out of her cunt
above it. Slowly he tested the opening to see how wide he could pry
open that trembling nether mouth.

All around him men gathered closer
still to watch, forgetting their ale.

Nino withdrew all his fingers and
looked into her eyes again. They drew him in just as firmly as the
muscles of her cunt had pulled on his fingers and his tongue. He
felt her bottom relax, letting his cock penetrate another half
inch.

Again there was a smug, superior
expression on her face, despite the indignity of her pose.
Apparently she felt no discomfort even with her legs over her head
for this long. The fire in her eyes seemed to throw down a
gauntlet. Daring him to try.

He wanted her filled and at his
mercy.

He made his hand into a fist and then
opened it again, stretching his fingers into the shape of a duck's
bill. He knew her cunt was so wet that he would not need much
additional lubrication, but he licked his hand while she watched
with those knowing, insolent eyes.

Then, slowly, he began inserting his
fingers. His cock was ready to spend in her arse, but he held off
with supreme effort as his hand moved carefully deeper into her
sex.

 

* * * *

 

She'd had men try this before, but
never with such steadiness and determination. Jesamyn decided to
let him proceed. After all, she had to set her trap, did she not?
And with his well-known repertoire of sexual exploits she would
need something special to distract him. Something special by which
she would possess his attention. And him.

Even more than that, however...she was
enjoying herself. The glorious friction of his large, heavy cock in
her anus had already driven her to another quick, butterfly climax.
The next one, she knew with feverish anticipation, would be a
slower, deeper, more intense coming. The insertion of his fingers
drove her uphill again.

All around them, men watched, staring
in disbelief as that d'Anzeray hand disappeared inch by inch
between her nether lips. There was a moment when she thought it
would be too much, a quickening of pain. But it passed quickly and
then he folded his fingers inside her until his fist rested there.
The fullness was exquisite, a throbbing, frenzied pleasure. He did
not move his hand at all once it had reached his destination. He
did not have to. His pulse shuddered within her, sent her over the
edge into a feral orgasm such as she'd never known in all her years
of experience.

And as she came, jolting and moaning,
her buttocks tightened, squeezing on his cock.

He shot his cream deep in her arse,
while she jerked and keened beneath him, his fist a ball of
delightful pressure filling her pussy.

The audience was too stunned by the
sight to applaud at first. Some of the men were working their own
cocks with rapid strokes, still staring down at her and the man
with his entire fist submerged in her stretched cunt.

Very soon the sounds remaining were
those of their audience jerking off, seed falling with a splat to
the tavern floor around them. Men grunting and panting.

Finally, when d'Anzeray slowly slipped
his fist back out of her, the drunken cheering and laughing
resumed.

Jesamyn sat up, still trembling from
the rush of fierce pleasure coursing through her loins. She didn't
know how pain could be so transformed into bliss. It was beyond the
realms of anything she'd yet discovered.

"I've never done that before," he
muttered.

She chose not to tell him
that it was also a new experience for her.
Must remain aloof
. But her sweat had
almost completely melted the cone of perfumed wax and it dripped
down over her breasts, tickling her skin, drawing his gaze once
again to her budding nipples.

"I have you for the entire night," he
reminded her, as if he thought she would try to renege on their
agreement.

She raised an eyebrow. "Best to pace
horse's stride."

 

* * * *

 

He carried her out of the tavern over
his shoulder, her bells jingling a merry tune with every stride.
"What is your name, wench?" Nino supposed he ought to at least ask
her that, although this was only rutting. He might want to call her
by something other than "Wench" at some point in the
night.

"Je- sa-myn," she replied, blowing a
lock of hair from her lips as he bounced her along.

"I am Antonino. But everyone calls me
Nino."

She said nothing, apparently not
interested.

"I am a d'Anzeray," he added
proudly.

"Yes. Thank you." came the flat,
strange response. He began to wonder if she knew what those words
meant after all. So much for polite.

He stood her on her feet once they
were inside the stables. "I suppose you have heard the
name."

Her eyes glittered with something like
bemusement. Or scorn. "You suppose."

The woman was stunningly beautiful.
Her skin was a soft, warm brown. She belonged among golden sands,
where sun filled the sky and would play over her thick, dark hair
until it shone like polished jet. She was out of place
here.

"Your seed drips out," she remarked
abruptly.

Nino pointed to the water barrel
outside the stable door and suggested she wash herself, if it was a
discomfort. For his part he enjoyed seeing his semen trickling
slowly down the back of her thighs and so he made no move to help
her clean it off.

"Why did you let me do that?" he
asked.

"I did not permit. Your cock emptied
without my permit."

"I meant, why let me fill you with my
fist? I could have hurt you. Why did you trust me that
way?"

She looked over at him from the open
stable door, her eyes heavily lidded as she splashed her lower body
with rainwater from the barrel. "You not harm me."

"How did you know?"

The woman shrugged lazily and turned
away again to finish cleaning herself off.

Nino fell back into the stacked straw
of an empty stall and watched her rinse his cum from her long legs.
How flexible she was, he mused. Later he would have her dance for
him again. For his private enjoyment.

"Where are you from,
wench?" he asked her again, determined to get a better answer than
"
far away
".

"My mother."

"Ha!" He shook his head. "What land,
woman?" He had to know if she was the same little girl with the
whip marks.

She was drying herself with straw as
she came to sit beside him in the stall. "Over the
seas."

He squinted. "You don't know, do
you?"

"Yes. Thank you."

Chewing on a piece of straw he
observed her annoyed face, watched her brow ruffle indignantly.
Should he remind her of the souk and the day she kissed him? "How
long have you been here?"

"A year. Perhaps. Longer than I
desire."

"Who brought you here?"

"A lover."

Nino spat into the straw. "And where
is he now?"

"
She
is dead." Her chin jutted high.
"A fever took her. She too was dancer. We danced
together."

He was even more interested now. "You
licked pussy for the audience, eh?"

"We did much thing for the
coin."

Nino reached over and moved aside the
colorful rags that made up her skirt, so he had the fine view of
her shaved cunt as she sat cross-legged before him. "You like women
more than men then?"

She shrugged. "I like pleasure. Man,
woman, not important. There are much ways to climax. Many roads for
pleasure."

That certainly made sense to Nino,
although personally he enjoyed cunny, not dick. He did like to see
women together, however. It was most arousing and also relaxing
since all he need do was observe. He often watched some of the
wives pleasuring one another, while he handled himself to a
leisurely climax.

He slipped a finger up into the
wench's soft pussy to see if she remained wet. She did. He smiled.
Christ, she felt like heaven. He didn't think d'Anzerays would ever
get to those holy heights, but this was surely the next best thing.
"Soon I will fill this again, but with my cock this time. As soon
as I am hard again, I'll have more of you. It shouldn't take long
before I'm raring to ride once more. Will you be ready to welcome
me in again?"

"Why? Would it matter to you if I not?
If I sore?"

"I can be patient."

Her reply was scathing. "You a boy. A
cub. Cannot be patient."

Affronted, he snapped, "I am one and
twenty. You are younger, are you not? What are you seventeen?
Sixteen?"

"I have lived nineteen winters," she
replied.

"Good." He was glad to find her
younger than him, but not too much so.

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