Oruale and the Saxons Ch. 03

"Your husband told me you would best being pierced when pink!" Actually Aelfrith hadn't said anything like that but Lancelot liked to improvise and a sweet lie in this situation wouldn't hurt. Or, maybe it did! He spanked her buttocks again, increasing the force of his slaps, turning her skin considerably closer to the desired color. Oruale shuddered in excitement.

"Did you like to be spanked when you were a little girl?" he kept slammed at her, incresingly more painful.How could he know?Instinctively she tried to turn away, but his hands kept coming down at the vibrating flesh of her cheeks and her thighs. The river in between started flowing.Yes, yes, yessss... Her bottom felt hot. Satisfied with the pink coloring her cheeks, Lancelot let an oozing drop from the head of his penis fall down in its center. The sphincter reacted nervously. He introduced a finger in the resisting opening and than another one. It was hot inside. Mercilessly he rotated his fingers in her contorting, hot furnace. He ignored her protesting moans. When she raised a hand to slow him down, he just brushed it away. Oruale was a tough woman. She wouldn't mind experiencing some more pain.

The head of his cock rested at the pit of her arse. When he pressed forward, he felt her delicious grip around the dome, filling him with an exciting wave of sensation. He heard her stifled gasp. Her hole was tight, pulling back his foreskin, which felt painful and delightful at the same time. Finally he was totally in, the length of his member completely surrounded by her wonderful inferno.

"Quite a woman!" Lancelot thought. She seemed so restrained and detached when he first met her. Now he was fucking her butt and she was returning his trusts with the passion and lewdness of a courtesan. She had an amazing control of her constricting sphincter which made this fuck absolutely delightful. Still he knew another way to spice up this mating even more.

"What about tasting my cock now?"

Oruale knew when she was challenged.This cannot be true, it is disgusting.She thought of Aelfrith. He had put her in this position by choosing Lancelot as his replacement. If she would do it, it would be her husband she would serve.I should say no, it is sickening and filthy. It felt like Aelfrith was watching her, testing her, challenging her. She felt hot and feverish.You are a warrior's woman. You have to be strong.She remembered his words and suddenly she knew she could do it.I am a stubborn Irish, those men will not challenge me and get away with it.She only had to gather her courage. She felt so excited, her buttocks were glowing and in the center her arse felt in flame. Screaming loud she let his cock slip from her bottom. Turning around she looked at his long gleaming pole of flesh, free from the containment of her arse. Sobbing in despair she launched forward, attacking that arrogant prick, taking it full in her mouth to chastise it... absorbing it, sucking it, licking it... The wonderful scent of his maleness mixed with the wicked taste of her own arse.

"You nasty girl...!"

She was spanked again, harder than ever before. Was it a punishment or a reward?This is depraved.She was moaning and groaning, trying to escape his hands... but not really! Sometimes his slaps were barely missing her bud of pleasure and she felt her excitement growing. He parted her cheeks like an orange and penetrated her arse again, purposefully hurting her since she seemed to enjoy the pain, moaning in lust when acid spasms ravaged her foundation. He fucked her roughly and coarsely, maltreating her breasts and her nipples like a drunken soldier till she was howling in delight. When he pulled back, she was due for cock-cleaning again and she sucked it, fresh from her arse, hollowing her cheeks...

"Nasty, nasty girl...!"

He switched to a short broom he picked up from a corner. The tiny twigs castigating her heated bottom made the pain excruciating... and wonderful! Howling she tried to escape, sliding from the bed, crawling away from him. He overtook her and fucked her arse there and then, right on the floor. They were copulating like rutting animals. Her arse was distended more and more. Oruale was sobbing in delightful submission.This is passion, this is the wild passion he was talking about.She felt his fat cock rotating in the tight confinement of her rectum, picking up more of her juices, preparing to challenge her again. She started crying.This is not fair. He is playing dirty.He pulled out, stepping back two steps, his prick standing tall. Turning around she prepared her jump, looking like a predator deprived of its prey, her eyes wild, her tongue licking around the corner of her mouth. Slowly crawling to him, she noticed he stepped back teasingly.He is humiliating me. He wants me crawling for him.And she did, crawling like a bitch in heat towards her master. She howled in frustration when he stepped back again and again. She followed him with that tempting cock dangling in front of her face, till she made a leap forward and was rewarded with the musky taste of her own arse. She was crying when her own juices filled her mouth. It felt so disgusting so utterly humiliating.If Aelfrith would see it, I would die in shame. Knowing herself, she would cave under his questions and he would extract each gory detail from her. Still crying she ran to the bed, let herself fall down on her back with her arms shielding her face. She didn't want to see him, neither his glorious body nor his triumphant prick.Why am I raising my legs? Why am I holding my ankles?When Lancelot pushed her knees to her shoulders, he saw the open hole of her arse, gaping at least an inch wide. He certainly had opened up that orifice.Aelfrith will be pleased.

Clinching his jaw Lancelot put the elasticity of the hole to a last test. When he entered her, both of them had the feeling this would be the one... his tempo slowed down as the intensity and the depth of his thrusts increased. He felt she was working towards the climax too. Her anus clenched the base of his cock, massaging it in short powerful waves.She is a natural.If Aelfrith ever would extend his fancy, he would find out his spouse could accommodate him more than adequately. Lancelot braced his feet against the mattress for the last stretch. Folded double to serve as a cushion for his blows, Oruale heard the wet loud sounds of their clashing bodies.His cock is all wet with my juices.She felt he was going to come.

"Not in my mouth again, please."

Oruale realized she pleaded to no avail.Why can't I make sweet love like a regular Lady?She noticed in the subtle change of his balance he would scramble to his knees.

"Noooo!" She shouted loud, trying to shield her mouth with her forearm.

If Lancelot might still considering his choice, her shout of despair finally made him decide on the option that would provide the most resistance. With the cool precision of a professional soldier he forced her mouth open. He admired her resistance. She was all arms and legs, trying to fight him off. Then came the fun part, getting all those limbs under control, one after the other. He kept her waiting for a moment, waiting for the moment of ultimate defeat when he plunged his slime-sheathed shaft in her defenseless mouth.

Lancelot penetrated deep, purposefully introducing as much of their juices as possible. This should be an educational training for her, to experience additional humiliation. She was great in defeat, gyrating lasciviously in ultimate pleasure. After a moment his invading flesh received the proper honors by her licking tongue, her cheeks providing the additional suction. Although the muffled guttural sounds from her throat sounded alarming, her nether lips were that much swollen they were clearly visible under their red foliage. Lancelot reached for the broom and turned around to distribute his reward for her fine efforts. Her little bud was hard and pushed up from its hood. With a swooshing sound the broom came down, hitting her exactly at her exposed berry. She exploded on cue as a shattering force of nature. Fascinated he watched her glorious body twitch and turn in racking convulsions of delight. Respectfully Lancelot let the storm wither till the warrior's woman fell soundly asleep against his shoulder.

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I would like to thank my editor JayneC for her valuable contribution.