Gwennalyn's Sexual Awakening Ch. 24

"So you don't miss orc cock when you're back home."

Her coo turned into a disapproving grumble, and she pouted.

"Why does everyone insist on reminding me I'll be going home soon?"

"Because it's best if we all accept that sad fact."

Her pout deepened.

Kishari's smirk softened into an understanding smile.

"Lie back, princess, and let's forget all about that."

Her pout disappeared, replaced by her own smile, this one sultry. She leaned back against the pillows, spreading her legs wide, a hand running over her belly to frame her slit.

Kishari let the shaft land on her thigh, the coolness a complement to the flush rising on her skin. That coolness dragged up along her hip, the priestess guiding it teasingly, letting it slowly reach her sex, rubbing the head over those soaked folds. Gwennalyn purred, her eyes trailing along the shaft, already eager to have every inch of it inside her.

A steady push sent the head through her lips. Kishari fed the next few inches into her, staring down at that yielding slit, the princess squirming and enjoying that same view.

After those inches, she twisted the base, turning that shaft inside the princess, stretching her out a bit more. Gwennalyn bit her lip, clutching at the bedsheets. Her wetness was already flowing, slick streams bathing that cool phallus.

Kishari moved up then and closed a hand around the princess' throat. Her other hand pushed hard on the phallus, driving it deeper, twisting the base as it went, sending the princess' eyes rolling back in their sockets. She gasped for breath, dimly focusing on the grip locked onto her neck and the thickness screwing into her depths. Her pleasure rose quickly, provoked by the rush of a strong hand cutting off her air. Another hard push sent the rest of the phallus inside her, the divine feeling of impalement a wondrous treat even with an artificial cock.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised that it fits so easily," Kishari commented, twisting it again inside her.

Her lungs began to ache from the lack of air, a lightheadedness swooping over her, leaving her swooning on the sheets, staring up at Kishari with a whorishly adoring gaze.

Kishari drew the shaft out, and then slammed it forward, juddering the princess, her choked squawk met with a satisfied growl from the priestess. That hand let up on her neck, letting her take several breaths. Midway through those breaths, another thrust followed, the base of the phallus squelching into her folds, every inch of the prodigious length sheathed inside her. She cried out, her voice wavering. The priestess pumped that phallus back and forth, establishing a punishing pace.

"Just like that," Kishari murmured. "Take it nice and deep."

Gwennalyn mewled, luxuriating in the encouragement.

That hand wrapped around her throat again. The pace grew rougher, her juices splattering about from the vigorous thrusts. Her back arched mindlessly, but she did her best to stay in place otherwise to let Kishari pummel her cunt with the cool shaft.

"That's it...good girl..."

She glanced up at the priestess, mewling again, and then looked back to watch that phallus shove deep. Kishari twisted the base once every inch was inside her to add another splash of stimulation. The pleasure reached a dangerous height, leaving her teetering close to the edge of ecstasy. Unable to speak beyond halting gasps, she glanced up at Kishari, her pleading eyes wide.

"Go ahead and cum for me," the priestess drawled, not stopping the punishing rhythm, keeping the phallus pounding into her.

The next thrusts came rougher still. The hand around her throat led to more lightheadedness, adding the last bit needed to trigger an orgasm.

She bucked, gasping hoarsely, her cunt spasming. The phallus kept up the assault, ensuring the climax took a long time to die down. The hand around her throat let up, and the priestess leaned down to suck and bite at her stiff nipples, the pinpricks of pleasure and pain swirling into the orgasm.

The bliss slowly dissipated. That phallus slipped out. She watched its retreat, the inches coated in her juices. The ridged head popped out, her stretched slit clutching at air.

"Praise Irezis," she sighed, shivering from the afterglow.

Kishari brandished the phallus, the shaft slick and gleaming, and then dragged her tongue along its length.

"Delicious...as always."

Gwennalyn blushed.

The priestess smirked.

"Irezis thanks you for the gift of your juices."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The streets of Coronhar bustled with morning activity, the sun high in the sky, offering warmth to contrast the slightly chilly air.

The princess walked along, carefully carrying the statuette, the phallus cleaned off and reinserted into the hollow space.

I'll put it to good use.

The castle was less bustling. She padded through the corridors, her mind wandering to what she might find once back in her chambers.

I wonder how Lucien handled any dockworkers if they showed up.

He had agreed to spend another night in her chambers, to serve in her usual station as a sexual outlet for any orc who might drop by, the majority of which were usually castle guards and dockworkers.

At this point, he might as well spend every night in my chambers.

She soon reached her chambers. The door to the bedroom was wide open, gruff growling audible through it. After placing the statuette on a nearby table, she hurried inside.

A dockworker was atop Lucien, laying roughly into him from behind. His gruff growls were complemented by subtle grunts from Lucien, forced out by the vicious impacts. Lucien faced away, his head pressed into the bed by the dockworker, another hand pinning both of Lucien's wrists against the small of his back. Her entrance drew the dockworker's attention, but he quickly and dismissively brought it back to Lucien.

The princess whipped her dress off, slipping onto the bed, getting a closer look at the action while giving the duo plenty of room. Her eyes trailed first over the dockworker, drinking in the sweaty, well-muscled flesh of his frame, those muscles rippling to his effort. The savagely lustful expression on his face drew a whimper from her even as he paid her no attention. She peeked down to where their bodies collided to see his cock plunging into Lucien, his asshole helpless against that onslaught, and draw back, streams of leftover cum burbling out around the retreat. The following thrust squirted out a few more, adding to the amount sticking to Lucien's taint, balls, cock, and the bedsheets. The musky smell of all that cum wafted into her nose. She snuck a hand in between her thighs.

The action continued, with the dockworker uncaring as to her presence, and Lucien unaware. He squirmed, muscles clenching, toes curling, offering no struggle to the rutting orc. Another peek at his asshole showed its edges red-rimmed, the anus clutching hopelessly every time that pumping shaft drew back. Other parts of his body bore bruises and handprints.

He's going to need plenty of elder salve.

The metronomic thrusts drubbed brutally into him. All he did was lie there and take it, his grunts occasionally growing more strained, or spiking into a soft cry at a particularly rough thrust. The princess masturbated idly, appreciating the fierce effort the dockworker unleashed.

The dockworker finally reached release, slamming inside that ruined asshole, holding himself deep. A snarl burst from him, the bestial sound turning into a roar, sending a shiver over her. Lucien grunted weakly, and then moaned at the roar, his own shiver cascading along him. The princess bit her lip, rubbing more forcefully at her folds, imagining the rush of warm, creamy cum flooding through his insides.

Once he was finished, the dockworker wasted no time pulling out and leaving the bed to gather up his clothes, barely sparing the princess a glance. She watched his load dribble out.

Lucien was slow to move, and even when he did, it was only his hand sneaking back to probe at his asshole and scoop up a mouthful of wasted seed.

"How was your night?" she asked him.

A groan spilled from him as he looked over his shoulder. She smiled, imagining the aches springing up from just that minor movement.

"It was a lot of fun," he admitted. "But how in blazes do you do this every single day?"

She giggled.

"Elder salve helps."

"Oh, I'm sure it does. But - and forgive me for saying - you don't appear particularly sturdy or robust. Not like Deiara, at least, and especially not like the female orcs I've seen. And yet after all this time, you're able to walk straight like you're not getting rutted day in and day out. That's impressive."

She giggled again, flouncing down next to him. A closer look at his face as he turned to look at her showed a few lashes of cum ranging from forehead to nose across cheeks and along his chin. She dragged a finger up his cheek, and hungrily devoured the gooey strands.

"I've learned I can take a lot of abuse," she told him. "And flourish in it as well. So, I love taking what I get. Maybe that's why I can still walk straight."

"Maybe," he allowed, a smile blooming on his lips.

"Anyway," she murmured, stretching out on the bed, "we have some time to sleep more before Deiara will show up. And then the elder salve will work its magic."

He nodded, yawning lazily.

"You know," he began after, "now that we know each other's secrets, marriage will be easier. And we can visit here often."

Her instinctive wince made him raise an eyebrow.

"You don't think it would make things easier? Having a husband who is aware of your activities? Participates in them too, at that."

She hesitated.

"It certainly would make things easier. But I don't want to get married just because I might've had to worry about pleasing a boring husband or hiding my preferences from him. I just don't want the responsibility. Bearing and raising children, keeping track of a household, plus everything that would come with marrying you. It seems a boring life, and my life was already boring enough back in Crownhold. At least here I get to pass the time getting rutted day in and day out."

He blinked in surprise.

"I guess it was naïve of me to assume that fucking the guards together would solve our issues."

She sighed.

"They aren't 'our' issues, Lucien. You'd make a fine husband, especially now that we do know each other's secrets and would keep them. But you're not the issue, nor is the issue yours. I just...don't want to live that life."

He nodded.

"Believe it or not, I know what you mean. The expectations our fathers put upon us are weighty. Even if they are different."

She nodded back.

"I don't suppose you'll go easily into marriage?"

She shook her head.

"When I get back home, I'll have to find a way to delay our marriage further. And if Irezis is gracious...a way to stop it entirely."

He yawned again.

"I have faith you'll find a way."

His yawn triggered one of her own. She grabbed the blanket and pulled it over them.

"Can I count on your help?" she asked, glancing at him, seeing him close his eyes.

He nodded.

"What kind of husband would I be if my wife couldn't count on me?"