Gwennalyn's Sexual Awakening Ch. 03

Her body, at first glance, was not suited for such rough treatment. She did not possess the soft curves of Deiara, something to absorb the hard impacts of a vicious man. But her body was incredibly receptive, and her mind more so. Gwennalyn luxuriated in the decadent carnality of her current situation, of the pleasure tearing into her body, swirling in her core, coalescing around the nexus of her being.

"You like it, whore?" he snarled from above her.

She whined, gasping for air so she could better tell him how much she loved it, each word of praise forgotten at the next piercing pump. Nevertheless, he understood her rapture, chuckling again, still fucking into her ass, rutting hard against her.

Unfortunately, her clutching anus, warm insides, and whorish cries made sure that he would not last long.

In the last few moments, before his second orgasm, he yanked back again on her hair, catching her by surprise, an oncoming orgasm of her own slamming suddenly into her at his rough treatment.

That orgasm was amplified when she felt his length hilt. She knew what his sudden stillness meant; she moaned out, her asshole clutching instinctively, desperate for a load to match the one still leaking steadily from her quim.

He grunted as he came, dumping his load into her innards, yanking back again on her hair. The combination of sensations pushed her into another orgasm, that warm heat filling up her belly, that sore ache at her temples, those tensing balls pressed against her mound. Her thighs and taint were coated with a flow from her slit, driven from its source by the anal onslaught.

Her belly clenched as he drew back out, letting go of her hair to allow her to slump forward.

She heard him move around behind her, and imagined this strange man appreciating the ruin he had brought to her body, the gleaming sweat and other bodily fluids on her skin, her stretched-out asshole leaking his load.

But when she glanced back over her shoulder, he was already pulling his clothes back on. She pouted, disappointed in the brevity of this particular encounter. The sight of his prick, still hard, made her crawl towards him. Her desperate approach made him chuckle; he walked towards the edge of the bed to meet her halfway.

His prick bobbed in front of her. She needed no command, only her desire driving her to take it into her mouth, the taste of her own insides streaking the fat shaft.

Had they had plenty of time, she would have given herself over to his savage desires for the entire night, until he left her broken and bruised, but glowing with intense contentment.

As it was, she would be pleasing other men, and he had other places to be. His hand drew her from his prick, and he stared down at her as she batted her eyelashes, a few strings of saliva connecting her mouth to him. She broke them, rubbing the remnants back against the throbbing flesh, lapping them up. That was the last bit of indulgence that he allowed her, before stepping back and pulling his trousers back up.

"See you around, whore," he said, turning to leave.

Gwennalyn sighed, slumping back onto the bed, a slight soreness cropping up along her body.

After a few moments, there came a knock on the door.

"Come in," she said, craning her neck to see who it was.

Lismiel slipped inside.

"Caria wanted me to check on you. Erias can be a violent man."

"Nothing I couldn't handle," she said, slumping back down into the bed.

The bed shifted as Lismiel climbed on, settling herself in between Gwennalyn's thighs.

"I was hoping I'd have to clean you up again," she purred, lowering her head to lap at the streams of semen staining her pale skin.

Gwennalyn mewled, raising her hips somewhat, feeling a gentler pleasure wash over her thanks to Lismiel's talented tongue. It was a wonderful counterpoint to the recent ravaging.

The other whore cleaned her thoroughly, deft tongue slipping along her cum-slicked folds, sliding down her taint to lick at her asshole. Once she lapped up the streams of spend, she took a few minutes to give Gwennalyn pleasure. Thanks to that talented tongue, an orgasm was quickly rippling along her body. Lismiel answered her ecstatic moans with excited coos.

She slumped back into the bed again. Lismiel came off the bed, walking around to the side.

"We should get you cleaned up for real."

The prostitute extended a hand, helping Gwennalyn to her feet.

"Get dressed," she said, "and follow me."

As they padded down the empty hallway, Gwennalyn could hear noises filtering up from the main room.

Four doors over from the room she had been in, was a room with a chamber pot and tub. The tub was filled with soapy water; next to it was a table, on top of which a few towels and ivory soaps were laid out.

"Get in," Lismiel said with a smile.

The princess stripped off her dress, feeling the prostitute's appreciative eyes upon her as she did so.

The warm water soothed her body as she soaked. She let out a deep sigh, slumping down into the tub, the suds shielding her body from Lismiel's gaze. Pouting dramatically, Lismiel drew up a chair next to the tub, choosing a cloth to dip into the water. As Gwennalyn soaked, Lismiel dipped the cloth into the water, gently scrubbed along her body, wiping off sweat and other fluids. It was pleasant and calming, reminding Gwennalyn of bathing back home, except with a whore at her side instead of her handmaiden.

"Did you enjoy your time with Erias?"

Gwennalyn nodded, blushing slightly. Her cunt could not help but clutch as she thought back to the viciously passionate treatment, the callous dominance.

"You like the rough stuff?"

She nodded again, biting her lip.

"It can be fun, sometimes," Lismiel agreed.

Gwennalyn nodded dreamily, her mind fully immersed back in the experience with Erias.

I wonder how the other men will treat me.

Once both women were satisfied with her cleanliness, Lismiel helped her from the bath, providing her with a larger cloth which with to dry off. Wanting to head back down to the main room, she dried quickly, and pulled her dress back on.

The main room was still a hub of activity. Deiara was nowhere to be seen.

"She went upstairs a little while ago," Lismiel told her.

Gwennalyn nodded, wondering what sort of time her handmaiden was having.

The couches were dotted with men of all sorts, and doting women, eager to bring them upstairs.

One of those aforementioned men stood out. This one was young, glancing around nervously, currently unaccompanied. A whore would pass by here and there, but he seemed too shy to address them.

Feeling a mix of pity and curiosity, relating to his nervousness and wanting to make him feel better, she sashayed over to him.

"Hello there," she purred.

He stuttered, staring up at her, obviously surprised.

"I...uh...evening, m'lady..."

She beamed at him, strangely charmed by his nervousness and politeness.

"May I sit with you?"

His answer was a blank stare. After a few long moments, he nodded, a relieved smile appearing on his face.

She quickly sat down next to him, stroking along his shoulder.

He was wearing simple clothes, tunic and breeches made from rough wool, worn leather boots reaching to his knees. There was a smattering of light brown hair around his chin, and an unruly mop of just as light hair on top of his head. She could feel muscles underneath his tunic, tensing as he tried to steady his nerves.

"Don't be nervous, darling," she said, wondering how much more nervous he would be if he knew who she actually was.

"Okay," he said nervously, blushing as he realized how inane the response sounded.

"What's your name?"

"Willett."

"I'm Aleia. And you seem a fine young man. What brings you here tonight?"

His blush deepened; the words came out in a jumbled rush.

"Relax, Willett," she soothed, sidling closer to him, resting her other hand on his thigh, feeling more thick muscle tense under her touch.

Has he ever been touched by a woman?

"'M here t' be with a woman," he said lamely, his blush redder than tomato soup.

"Well, I would hope so," she teased.

"No...like, for th' first time."

It took her aback for a moment, but then she giggled, her hand on his thigh stroking slightly higher.

"Well, perhaps I can be of service then?"

He nodded eagerly, and she stood, extending a hand.

A confused look crossed his face.

"Come with me. Upstairs."

Understanding clicked in his eyes, and he quickly leapt to his feet, grabbing onto her hand. She turned, guiding him back through the room, to the main staircase, heading up to one of the rooms.

Moans sounded out from some of the rooms as they passed. She glanced back to see him still blushing.

"It's okay to be nervous," she assured him.

He smiled sheepishly.

They came to an empty room, and she pulled him inside.

"What do I do?" he asked.

She giggled again, throwing her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. He made a noise somewhere between surprise and pleasure when their lips met. The thought occurred to her that another whore might have simply thrown him down and ridden him to orgasm. But she resolved to draw it out, to make it a memorable experience.

Or at least more memorable than it's already going to be.

His arms moved to pull her closer, and she eagerly pressed herself into his strong stockiness. Those muscles encircled her slender form.

The kiss ended, and she breathlessly dragged her lips down to his neck, delighting in his shivering, in the way his breathing quickened as her hands found the lower edge of his tunic and drew it up over his head. The bare skin underneath was well-defined with muscles, giving her plenty to caress.

"What do you do?" she asked.

"Fisherman," he blurted out, blushing again. "With m' da."

"In town?"

He nodded.

"Did he send you, or did you come by yourself?"

"He gave me some coin as a birthday gift, told me t' come here 'n have m' first woman."

She giggled again, suddenly delighted by the idea that this young man would lose his innocence to her. No matter how many women he would lay with after this, he would always look back to her as his first.

"I'm honored to be your first," she said, leaning in for another kiss, her fingers sliding down his chest, along his stomach, taking a delicate grip on his trousers. His breath caught in his throat as he felt her fingers dip inside, teasing the sensitive skin between groin and belly.

Her fingers slipped deeper, until they collided with something hard and hot; his reaction was a pleased grunt, making her giggle into the kiss, her tongue now slipping out to slide along his lips. He opened them, letting her inside, meeting her questing tongue with his own. His eager member was already throbbing with need, the tip leaking pre-cum at an alarming rate, trickling out over her fist.

Gwennalyn dropped smoothly to her knees, bringing his trousers down with her. He gaped down at her as she purred with pleasure at the prospect of this fresh, untainted cock at her disposal. Her mind flashed with all the indecent things she could do with it, all the ways she could corrupt him, sending him home with a bevy of new carnal experiences. She rubbed her thighs together, this sudden rush of power making her body heat up. As her hand began to stroke along his shaft, she gazed up at him, summoning every ounce of her desire into the look.

"First," she began, "I'm going to suck your cock."

He nodded wordlessly, eyes like dark brown saucers.

"Then," she continued, "I'm going to ride you."

His eyes bugged out, the length in her hand throbbing at her words.

"And finally," she finished, "you're going to fuck my ass."

His mouth opened and closed, opened and closed, a soft wheeze spilling out.

The sight made her giggle, pleased by the reaction.

"Are you ready?"

His frantic nod made her giggle again. It was exhilarating to know that she could have such an effect on him.

A long strand of pre-cum hung from the head of his prick. Noticing it, she shifted underneath it, placing her mouth in its path, watching it glint in the soft candlelight as it pooled onto her outstretched tongue, the musky flavor immediate and rich. She followed it back to the source; his eyes nearly shot from their sockets as her tongue snaked up the expanse of his length. It was warm and hard, pulsating with his young lust.

"Tastes good," she murmured.

As he watched, nodding again, she slid her tongue back down the veined shaft, making her way down to his testicles. A strangled grunt spilled from him when she sucked one into her mouth. The sight and sensation made him tremble, his hands clenching into fists by his side. The crinkled flesh sat on her tongue as she bathed it in saliva, still intently stroking at his prick. Keeping a close eye on his face, she brought her mouth over to the other one, this time lapping eagerly, dragging her wet, warm tongue over the sensitive skin.

"Good gods," he breathed, making her giggle onto her prize.

She moved back up to the head of his length, and sucked it into her mouth. More pre-cum streamed out, sliding over her tongue as she began to take more of him, inch after inch passing past her lips. His breathing was faster now, sweat forming on his brow, fists curling into the bedsheets.

The rest of his prick was in front of her. It was not particularly large, but it was thick, forcing her lips apart as she drove ahead, wanting him to feel the clasping warmth of her gullet, wanting him to feel the exquisite sensation of her choking around his meat.

It took little effort for that to happen, for her nose to press against his belly, his balls tight against her chin. He gasped, his knuckles turning white, teeth gritting. She swallowed, relishing the way he groaned at the feeling of her throat suddenly tightening around him.

And then she pulled off.

Strands of saliva and pre-cum still connected her lips to his cock; she used her hand to break them off, spreading them back onto the shaft, massaging them into the throbbing flesh.

"Let me know when you're close," she purred, starting to stroke him again, "I don't want to waste a drop."

He swallowed nervously.

"'M close now..."

Gwennalyn smiled at him. A wicked idea struck her, and she giggled at the thought.

"Where do you want to cum?"

He was momentarily confused.

"Your mouth?" he answered, more a question, a search for assurance that he was not expected to finish elsewhere. A brief look of disappointment crossed his face at the thought that he might not be allowed to empty himself inside her mouth.

"Are you sure?" she asked, her smile widening. "You can also cum on my face."

Willett had been closer than she had thought.

At her statement, his cock throbbed, and a spurt of semen blasted out, splashing onto her face. She squealed, caught by surprise, but quickly positioned herself better, in front of and slightly beneath the flow, to catch each thick rope. Willett grunted, body tensing, caught by surprise as well. His eyes quickly went back to their customary wideness as he watched his seed plaster her face. She moaned, not faking a single noise, loving the feeling of another load soothing her skin, still stroking at his length, hoping to milk every last drop out.

For the last few spurts, she leaned forward, pressing her cheek against the flared slit on top of the head, shuddering as the remaining drops of his seed spilled out onto her flesh. It made her quim clench, her nethers already dripping with liquid desire.

His orgasm done, Willett gave a heavy breathe, his muscles relaxing, fists unclenching.

Gwennalyn knelt before him, her face coated in his spend. Another wicked thought occurred to her, and she fought back a giggle.

"Shall I eat your cum, or would you rather I keep it on my face?"

His surprise grew ever more, a choked sputter coming out at her airy question.

"Uh..."

She just beamed up at him, awaiting his decision.

"Y' can eat it if y' want," he muttered.

"Do you want me to?" she persisted. "I will if you want me to."

He blushed, and then nodded quickly.

She made sure to maintain her smile, to not move her eyes from his, as she began to collect his cum. It was warm and creamy, falling prey to her hungry fingers, being shepherded onto her tongue. The thick semen pooled there, Gwennalyn shuddering at the familiar taste of a salty load, a slight difference in Willett's. She did not swallow, not right away, instead collecting every bit of his cum first, trailing up to her forehead, down to her chin, over her nose, around her cheeks. There was a lot of it, but she managed to gather it all, the musky spend filling her mouth, threatening to spill back over. Keeping eye contact, she tilted her head back, showing off her prize, seeing the blend of emotions play over his face. Those emotions only deepened when she swallowed, gulping loudly, her quim twitching at the warm cream rushing down her throat. He was floored by her whorishness, eyes wide, prick stiffening again at the sight.

The taste coating her tongue, Gwennalyn stood before him. Wonder was all over his face, tinged by an eager hunger. His eyes never left her as she stripped off her dress. It pooled on the floor, and she stepped out of it, her nakedness on display; his desirous gaze took it all in, appreciating her small breasts, running down her taut stomach to savor the sight of her dripping slit.

"Is there a certain girl you want to fuck? A girl who you would love to lay with?"

There was no answer for a moment, as he instead was busy drinking in the sight of the woman before him.

"Uh...yeah," he finally admitted, another blush rising in his cheeks.

"What's her name?"

"Satarri," he answered.

"Pretty name. How do you know her?"

"She works at a bakery down th' street from a fishery."

"Is she pretty?"

He nodded eagerly.

"She has nice, bright eyes, 'n her laugh sounds like music."

She giggled, and he blushed, a look of regret crossing his face at the romantic outburst.

"You should tell her that," she advised, stepped closer, directing him to take a hold of her hips. "Women love to be complimented."

"What if she laughs at me?"

Gwennalyn smiled.

"What if she gives you a compliment back? What if she says she thinks you're funny and kind, says she always enjoys talking to you?"

"Think that'd happen?"

"You'll never know if you don't find out."

He nodded.

"That's true."

"And now that you're a real man," she teased, "you'll have some experience to show her."

He nodded again.

"And I don't mean cumming on my face," she teased again, giggling at his blush, climbing onto the bed, crawling past him to recline.

"Come here, Willett," she purred, beckoning him with a crooked finger.

He obeyed eagerly, shedding his trousers, sidling up next to her. His eyes drifted down her body, and she spread her legs once his hungry gaze reached her mound.

"Can I eat y' out?" he asked.

She smiled, just about to suggest such a thing herself.

"Of course. Practice on me so you can show Satarri how talented a lover you are."

He blushed, but nevertheless moved in between her thighs, studying the pink folds, how her slit oozed streams of juice.

"Don't be nervous," she soothed, running a hand through his hair, "just use your mouth and fingers on me."

Willett nodded, and leaned down to lick experimentally along her slit. She sighed, raising her hips towards him; he licked again, the wet smoothness of his tongue so decadent against her quim. Groaning quietly, seemingly taken with the taste, he set off on a rhythm of licking, up and down, up and down. Although it was pleasant, Gwennalyn began to speak, to direct him as how to continue, paths he could take to provide her or any future female lover with further pleasure. Her words did not go unheeded; he was an eager student, following her directions, seeking to please her as she had him.