Whorespawn (Seven Brides for Seven Bastards)

by Georgia Fox

  She could almost feel the heat of his stern gaze touching her pubic curls and her trembling thighs.

  Somewhere behind her, only on the other side of that wall, the potter and his eldest son wound down their argument. Very soon they would come inside with mugs of ale. The two youngest boys would also come in after working outside in the sun all day, weary and fractious. She had work to do. So much to—

  "Legs apart," the stranger commanded, licking his lips, "so I can see your dewy nether lips. For I might want to drink from those too. There at least I can get something to wet my tongue."

  Heart pounding, Aelfa moved her feet a few inches apart. She felt wicked and yet every part of her was alive because of him. Alive as it had never been before. Her body quivered with anticipation. No man but the potter had ever looked at her naked and there was never admiration in his gaze, only prurient interest and the arrogance of possession—the same expression on his face when he watched his boar service a sow.

  The stranger considered her for a moment, then he moved closer again and pressed his bare hand between her thighs, touching her intimately. "I like what I see and feel," he muttered. "I'll take it."

  She moaned. "'Tis not for sale." Did he mistake her for a whore? Perhaps, hearing the childrens' teasing, he thought that was her profession. And since she just let him see and suckle her breasts...what else would he think?

  The man did not reply but proceeded to rub her pussy lips with his long finger, and she knew he would feel how wet she was. He bent his head and tongued her nipple again as he slid that questing finger between her labia.

  And that was the moment her husband walked in with his ale. The mug slipped from his sweaty hand, and he cursed.

  Chapter Four

  Sebastien lifted his mouth from her nipple and looked at the other man, assessing him quickly. "You must be the husband," he said carefully, his finger still knuckle deep inside the woman's cunt, enjoying her silky soft treasure.

  The short, stocky fellow was looking around for a weapon and calling out for assistance, but the "Edwyn" he called for did not appear.

  "I think we can discuss this reasonably," said Sebastian, reaching for his knife with his free hand while pressing a second finger up into her honey pot.

  "Get your hands off her," the little man exclaimed, his eyes wide, cheeks puffed out like a squirrel.

  "This will only take a moment."

  "Who the hell do you think you are?"

  "I'm Sebastien d'Anzeray. And I'm going to fuck your wife."

  At the mention of his name, color drained from the man's face. If he was wise he wouldn't argue with a d'Anzeray for where there was one there were often six more nearby and it was never good to pick a fight with one of his brothers, let alone all of them. But still the man grabbed a wooden stool and advanced, poised to...do what exactly, Sebastien could not imagine.

  The woman had not moved. Her back pressed to the wall again, her legs spread, she'd made no move to get away and her sexual musk was a potent fragrance in his nostrils. She was ready for him and more than willing. Her pussy creamed for him already. With each upward thrust of his fingers her voluptuous breasts jostled slightly, the nipples peaking for his attention. In his breeches his cock was rock hard and pulsing. He really did not want to delay by having to fight her foolish husband.

  He wanted to be buried to the hilt in that satiny goodness very, very soon.

  Fortunately—because he really didn't want to get out of breath yet—he was saved from having to turn his attention to the idiot who had just cracked a wooden stool across his back. The doorway suddenly filled with the tall, broad-shouldered shape of Alonso d'Anzeray, one of his brothers.

  "There you are! I thought we were dining with the Baron? I saw your horse outside and I—"

  The woman's husband had picked up one of the splintered, broken stool legs and was swiping it hard at Sebastien's shoulders and head, while shouting "Edwyn! Edwyn! Get in here."

  Alonso, apparently summing the scene up in a few seconds and requiring no narrative, moved forward with his long, lithe stride, wrestled the stool leg from the man's hands and sent him across the cottage with one punch to his corpulent stomach.

  "I might have known there was pussy involved," he muttered, looking over his shoulder and grinning.

  Sebastien put his knife away and quickly unlaced his breeches with one hand. "Just keep an eye on the husband will you." Her cunt was so tight on his fingers, he couldn't wait another moment to have her. "Come here, my lovely." He dragged another stool over with his foot, let his breeches fall to his ankles and sat, making her stand astride his lap. "Look how wet she is, brother!" He took his fingers out of her and showed their gleaming stickiness in the gleam of dying sunset through the open cottage door.

  Alonso exhaled a low whistle. "Looks like the beautiful lady is primed for a good rutting, Seb. Christ, look at those tits! Magnificent."

  "Why do you think I chased her through a forest and across a meadow? Just keep your attention on the husband and let me get to work here."

  Laughing, Alonso held the point of his sword to the cursing husband's belly. There was no sign of any other likely interruption. Whoever "Edwyn" was, he valued his own survival it seemed, and knew better than to come rushing to anyone's aid, especially against two d'Anzerays.

  Sebastien, therefore, could take a little more time with this pretty treasure now. As his brother said, the Baron was expecting them for dinner tonight, but he could have a morsel of something extra first.

  He opened her pussy lips with his wet fingers and then encouraged her to bring her hips forward. The woman was unusually quiet for one in her circumstances. He would have expected her to be ranting and raving, assuring her husband that she did this under protest. Or begging him to stop.

  This fox did neither. She wasn't even looking at her husband, but her eyes had turned smoky and they were pinned to Sebastien's face. Her fingers held her skirt up to her slender waist, and he saw burn marks on her knuckles. He'd also noted more bruising on her skin and it angered him. Why would a man who had guardianship of a woman so beautiful treat her so badly? And he knew it must be her husband who caused those bruises. She would not confess it, but he read it easily on her face.

  A slight flush heated her cheeks now and her bared breasts, but it did not compete with the glowing pink of her nipples and her cunt. Too enticing.

  He laughed softly over his shoulder at her swearing, furious husband. "You don't mind if I sample your lovely young wife's wares, do you? It seems she's eager and generous. I can smell her musk and it's luring me in."

  "You bastards! Don't you dare! I'll get my vengeance for this."

  Alonso poked the man with the tip of his sword and chanted wearily, "Shut up, shut up, shut up. Don't do this. Don't do that...Bloody Saxons. Don't you know you're conquered?"

  Amused, Sebastian leaned forward, pulling her to his face at the same time. He opened his mouth over her wet twat and suckled greedily, his hands holding her buttocks to help her keep her balance.

  Damn, she was sweet and delicious, a perfect summer treat after a hot day and a long journey. Excellent remedy for a bad mood and a sore head. He thrust his tongue up into her pussy and wriggled the tip over her clit. He felt her tremble, heard her gasp, and her hips began to move in a sensuous sway as her arousal seeped onto his tongue.

  He was distantly aware of her husband still yelling and Alonso calmly replying that it was hardly the Norman race's fault if he'd never given his wife an orgasm before.

  Sebastian curled his tongue around her dewy pink pearl and sucked so hard he made the woman cry out. She almost fell, but had the good sense to lift her right leg over his shoulder, leaning into his strength as he devoured her hot cunt and dug his fingers into her firm round arse cheeks.

  He had a feeling he might want to do this all night long and to hell with their meeting with the Baron. There was fine cunny in need of a servicing and who better than him to meet her needs? His balls felt as
if they might burst. Already a little seed had erupted from his cock head.

  Briefly he paused his feast, leaning back to study her swollen pink pussy lips, wet with her cum and his saliva.

  "This wench is on fire with need," he muttered, glancing over at her raging, spitting husband. "I don't think you've ever given her what she needs, eh? Look at her!" Hands on her hips he turned her slightly toward her husband, her right leg still resting over his shoulder. "Look how ripe she is for a good swiving." With his fingers he held open her quivering pussy, so that the other men could see the bead of cum dripping from it. He leaned in and collected the satiny nectar on the tip of his tongue, while she moaned and rocked forward.

  The air was blue with her husband's curses and squeals, while Alonso laughed huskily and told his brother to stop showing off.

  "Come here, my little fox," Sebastien grunted. "I'll make you scream louder than your husband."

  * * * *

  She didn't know what he was doing to her, but it left her knees weak and her skin damp with perspiration. Oh, he had a very clever tongue. She couldn't catch her breath to protest, even if she'd wanted to.

  Over in the corner, her humiliated husband watched all and she knew he would blame her for this. He saw her hips and breasts sway; he watched the stranger's lips and tongue on her pussy and her nipples; he saw the pleasure she couldn't hide, coursing through her in rough, jolting, shuddering waves. Pleasure she'd never had with him. Never even imagined.

  Later the potter would beat her with his fists. With anything he had at hand. He would tell her she was just like her whore mother. Now he had his proof.

  Aelfa knew she ought to scream and fight, but it wouldn't matter if she did. The potter would still say she was at fault for tempting other men. And she didn't want to fight. She was enjoying herself too much.

  The man who called himself Sebastien d'Anzeray—proudly, as if it was a name they should know—now began to lower her into his lap. His cock stood to attention, the thick head nudging up at her swollen labia.

  "Down you go, young woman," he commanded briskly. "Sit all the way down. No!" He tapped her arse smartly when she paused, struggling to accommodate the size of his manhood. "All the way, young woman. You know you must. I insist. Spread a little wider. We want it all up there, don't we? There...oh yes! There you go." He swore loudly and then took her left nipple in his mouth while he bounced her on his massive prick.

  The penetration was so deep she thought he must have pierced her all the way to her stomach. But it was not uncomfortable after the first shock. He had seen to that by readying her pussy with his clever mouth, leaving her slick and wet.

  "There, my little spy," he whispered, taking his mouth off her distended nipple for a moment, "is that what you wanted?"

  Aelfa thought back to that afternoon at the lake when she'd watched and lusted. Little did she know then that all that glorious manhood would be hers this evening. Fortune smiled on her for once.

  "Yes," she moaned, unable to lie to him.

  He chuckled low and then resumed tugging and sucking at her tit, his hands lifting and lowering her on his throbbing cock, his hips thrusting upward each time he brought her down.

  Dear god he would kill her, she thought happily. What a wonderful way to die.

  "I'll have your head for this, d'Anzeray," the potter yelled.

  "If I were you," said the stranger's companion, "I'd hold that tongue, watch closely and learn from the master." He too was tall, like Sebastian, but he wore his dark hair much longer, all the way past his shoulders. There was a definite resemblance in the facial features and she knew they must be related. He glanced over at her with warm, appreciative eyes and grinned. "I'm sure your wife would be grateful if you picked up some tips from my brother."

  So that was it. Brothers.

  The man fucking her lifted his mouth again from her nipple. "Are you more interested in Alonso or me?"

  Surprised, she returned her attention to his face.

  "That's better," he grunted. "Get your dress off."

  Amused that he should be jealous of where her eyes strayed, even as he took her in full view of her lawful husband, Aelfa lifted the old gown over her head and dropped it to the floor. Now she was completely naked but for the long hair hanging down over her shoulders. If she tipped her head back she knew he would feel the ends of her hair ticking his thighs and knees. Dare she?

  Yes. She arched her spine farther than before and let her hair dangle over his strong thighs, the curls caressing him as she moved her head.

  She heard his grunts turn to groans of delight and then came the slapping of his buttocks against the wooden stool as they actually lifted each time he bucked his hips and thrust into her.

  "Don't keep her all to yourself," his brother exclaimed huskily. "It's not fair. My cock could do with a good sucking. Unless you'd like to leave a little of that lovely pussy for me to enjoy."

  Sebastien raised his lips from her nipple again. "Get your own pussy!"

  "That's a fine attitude from a loving brother. So I have to stand here with blue balls. I can see how ripe and lush she is from here. I'm drooling! You know I'd share. I always do."

  "Oh, for the love of Beelzebub!" Suddenly Sebastien lifted her off his lap. She ached with the abrupt emptiness. She felt bereft, wondering why he hadn't spent his seed. But then he raised his eyes to her face and said, "Do you mind sharing with my brother?"

  "Sharing?" She was slightly dazed. The sensations still heavy in her cunt were too powerful, too forceful, and they overcame her ability to understand what he'd just said. Looking at his large, erect cock, she felt like a woman starved. All she wanted was to have that inside her again, and she would do anything to get it.

  "My brother, Alonso, would like to fuck you too, if you can take us both."

  She trembled, rubbing her arms, staring down at him as he remained on the stool, hands on his thighs.

  "Have you ever had two men at once?" he asked.

  Aelfa shook her head. "How?"

  He grinned. "Come here and I'll show you." He began licking his finger.

  In his corner, her husband resumed his protests, hollering and shouting. Not because he cared about her at all, but because she was his possession, his property and this stranger not only stole his rights by penetrating her body, but also now offered that same pleasure to another man.

  "One in your cunny and one...," the usurper tugged her back into his lap, this time turning her so she faced away from him, "...up here in your arse." He sat her on his finger, shocking her with the suddenness of that crude, uncomfortable invasion.

  "Ouch!"

  He kissed her shoulder, laughing softly as he wriggled that finger deeper into her anus. "Has your husband ever had you here?"

  Aelfa swallowed and glanced over at the potter. "Yes. I didn't like it. It hurt too much."

  "I see. He didn't prepare you well enough."

  "He always hurts me. My pain brings him pleasure."

  "Whorespawn," her husband yelled, spitting with fury. "You wait till I get my hands on you again. Hurt won't be the word for it."

  Still fingering her arse, Sebastien called to his brother in a foreign tongue and then Alonso grabbed the leather laces from her discarded gown and used them to bind the potter's wrists behind his back.

  "I can see my brother and I are going to be late to dinner," Sebastien whispered to her. But he didn't sound very upset about it. "Will you get down on your knees for us? Spread my mantle on the ground for some softness."

  She complied eagerly, too much desire keening through her body. She was afire with it. From the wild look in her husband's bloodshot eyes this could be her last night on earth and therefore she would make the most of it.

  The two strangers finished binding the potter's wrists and ankles while he yelled, "She's my property! You'll pay for this, Norman dogs!"

  Finally they gagged him with a strip torn from his own stained tunic and then he could do naught but roll about
the earthen floor and watch as he was soundly cuckolded.

  Sebastian shut and bolted both doors and the two men stripped from the waist down.

  Aelfa glanced at her scarlet-faced husband, trussed up like a pig ready for the roasting spit, and almost felt sorry for him. Almost. As for Edwyn— the despicable little coward had run off, of course. Perhaps, since no one else came running, he hadn't even gone for help. In all likelihood he was watching through his peephole and jerking his prick with one hand.

  The two brothers knelt, one before her mouth and the other behind her.

  Alonso's black hair shone as he looked down at her and smiled, showing strong, straight, fine white teeth. His cock was erect, pushing at her mouth. It smelled clean. For once she had no disgust for the act and she opened her mouth wide, just as Sebastian mounted her pussy from behind with a savage thrust that pushed her face first into his brother's groin. Then she felt his finger pushing into her bottom again, followed by a second, opening and stretching her tight hole. She resettled her knees on the ground, pushed back against Sebastian's hips and drew Alonso deeper into her throat, moaning softly in excitement.

  That beautiful thick cock reamed her pussy again, this time with slow, steady, deliberate strokes, plumbing deep from a new angle and causing a friction inside that made her want to scream. If her mouth was not filled with the brother's cock, she would have howled. She tightened her pussy at one end and her mouth at the other, working both men with a raw, savage eagerness that quickly had them both grunting and gasping.

  The sound of a barrel falling outside told her that she was right in her suspicion about Edwyn. He was there, watching through his peephole. Nasty brat. He didn't even care that his father was bound and gagged, because he was enjoying the performance.