Lord of the Manor

A low murmur echoed through the grand hall as music played softly in the night air and lords and ladies reveled in the nature of those who ruled with absolute power. Sitting upon a silver throne the high king surveyed the instruments of his power, his face stony and grim but his eyes gleaming with a desire for even more. Many lords requested an audience with the king, a chance to expand their own status while weakening their enemies, yet few of them would find what they sought instead only finding themselves to be pawns in the king's own schemes.

Through the throng of lords dressed in the latest fashions and ladies painted to appear younger than they in fact were a lone figure moved, a sable black cloak flowing from his shoulders. The man was dressed simply, a black silk shirt and black leggings tucked into doeskin calf boots dyed a midnight black, but his bearing and piercing dark eyes forced men's eyes to turn down and seem shabbily dressed in their finery. As their men's eyes turned down the ladies' eyes were drawn to this stranger, admiring the grace with which he moved, the sureness of his step and the youthful look of his face, and among those gazes many burned with lust.

The young man smiled to himself and let his eyes sweep brazenly over the ladies, their own gazes dropping unable to meet his, though a few attempted to hold their heads up they too succumbed to the urge to silently submit. Ignoring the man standing beside her the youth strode surely up to a young lady and took her hand in his, guiding her to the dancing room as her husband watched, dumbstruck. The lady found herself at first taken aback at this man's arrogance but something drew her to him and soon she found herself lost in his eyes as he led her confidently through the complex dance.

It wasn't until a cough from behind her that she realized the dance had ended and she was pressing herself tightly against the man's form, her fingers lightly caressing over the soft silk of his shirt. Turning the lady found her husband, his eyes blazing with jealousy he snatched her hand and pulled her roughly from the youth, his voice sharp, "Your nerve sir, is insulting."

The stranger turned to look at the jealous husband, his eyes cold as they locked with the fuming lord, the voice that came from between the stranger's lips froze the marrow of the lord, "What's insulting is your inability to know when a better man is present." With that the stranger stepped past the lord and offered the lady his hand, who wordlessly took it. As the still fuming lord glared at his back the stranger led the young woman from the grand hall and out into a waiting carriage.

As the carriage carried them away the young lady found herself wondering what had possessed her to leave with this young stranger but as he watched her she found herself shifting her legs demurely in an attempt to quench the fire that was beginning to burn within her. Gently, the stranger reached out and caressed her face with the tips of his fingers, the touch nearly sending her plummeting over the edge. The stranger glanced outside and knocked on the roof of the carriage; the young lady looked out and gasped as she realized that they were in front of her husband's manor. Her eyes showed their fear as they turned back to the stranger who only grinned and stepped from the carriage, helping her down.

The stranger took her arm in his and led her up into the house as if he owned it; the few servants still awake saying nothing about this young man entering with the lady of the house. With a confidence she found alluring the man led her to the bedroom she shared with her husband and pulled her into his arms, his lips quickly finding her own. With a hunger that both scared and excited her, the stranger's tongue forced between her lips while one of his hands slowly tangled in her blonde curls. The lady found herself moaning into the kiss, her tongue seeking out his and matching his passion as her body pressed wantonly against his. Breaking the kiss and stepping back from her, the stranger grinned, his voice husky and serving to stoke the fires within her veins when he spoke, "Undress for me, Jassilynne."

Not caring how this youth knew her name, Jassilynne moved to obey him, her fingers lifting to the ties of her dress and slowly undoing them. With her dress pooled at her feet in a satin puddle Jassilynne lifted her eyes to meet the hungry gaze of the strange young man and as she did she found herself growing even more excited, her husband never looked at her with such obvious lust and so she slipped the straps of her silk shift from her shoulders and let it join her dress. The cool night air caressed over her naked skin causing her nipples to tighten into small berries and the stranger lifted her effortlessly into his arms and carried her to the bed.

Laying her down lightly the youth deftly unbuttoned his shirt revealing a lightly tanned chest, muscled and sculpted, Jassilynne lifted her fingers to drag her nails feather soft down his chest and slide his shirt from his arms. A groan slipped from his lips as her fingers slid down to press against the growing bulge in his leggings. Stepping from her curious fingers the man grinned mischievously and slowly undid his belt, followed by the ties of his leggings. Stepping from his boots and letting his leggings drop to the floor the young man chuckled softly as Jassilynne gasped when she caught sight of his manhood.

Jassilynne licked her lips as the youth revealed himself, he was longer than her husband and the head of his shaft was a dark purple and looked similar to a mushroom cap. Reaching out she tentatively stroked his length a soft moan escaping her lips as she felt his hardness, her eyes met his as she pleaded in a whisper, "Take me, please."

Lifting himself onto the bed, the youth slid his hands slowly down across her breasts to her thighs and spread them. His eyes sweeping down her body to the golden curls nestled between her thighs and the honey that glistened on those curls. Slowly the youth pressed the head of his manhood against Jassilynne's treasure, a soft mewling sound coming from between her lips as she felt him. Keeping a grip on her thighs the youth pushed into her, a groan ripping from his throat as he entered her, the warm folds of her sex enveloping him. His hands slid from her thighs to cup the firm globes of her rear as her back arched, forcing herself further onto him. Feeling himself drive deeper into the lady until his entire length was buried in her womb the youth ground his hips against hers, causing her to squeal with delight as his pelvic bone pressed against her pearl.

Jassilynne gasped with pleasure as she felt herself fully impaled on this stranger's throbbing manhood. As she felt him begin to draw out of her she cried and clutched at him with the muscles of her sex, trying to hold him and eliciting a groan from his lips. Feeling him pull through her muscles Jassilynne cried at the emptiness he left within her until a vicious thrust from him filled her once again. Soon her cries were of pleasure as her lover thrust again and again into her. Still clutching at his thrusting shaft with her womanhood it seemed as if Jassilynne could feel every ripple and vein of his manhood, her fingers clawed at his back, urging him on.

The youth thrust into her relentlessly, reveling in the feel of her walls clutching at him like some silken vise, his teeth clenched in passion. A sheen of perspiration gleamed on the lovers as the sound of flesh on flesh echoed through the room, the cries of the lady of the manor mixing with the grunts of her stranger lover.

Lord Dreyan returned to his house, still fuming over the insult of his wife leaving with the commoner. How scum like that had gained entrance to the King's ball Dreyan could not explain but his wife would surely pay for the insult. As Dreyan mounted the stairs towards his room he pondered going to the King about the stranger's presence at the ball, but as he neared the opened door of his chambers he was stopped short by the last sounds he expected to hear. The noises of love making emanated from the open door and Dreyan tiptoed to the threshold, what he saw took his breath away. On the bed, his bed, lay his wife crying out in obvious pleasure as the young stranger thrust powerfully into her sex. When the stranger drew from his wife for another thrust Dreyan admired the size of the man's shaft with jealousy and understood the sounds coming from his wife's lips. Dreyan felt his own arousal growing as he watched the stranger use and claim his wife, shame pounding in his mind as he realized his wife would never be satisfied by his own lacking. Looking back up, Dreyan choked back a gasp of his own as the stranger arched and drove powerfully into his wife, a guttural roar ripping from the youth's lips. Almost at the same time Jassilynne screamed in pleasure, the music of the two lovers reverberating through the room.

The youth bent down and kissed Jassilynne deeply, his tongue swirling and dancing with hers. Stepping into the room, Dreyan cleared his throat and attempted to maintain an air or authority. The reaction from his wife was what he expected, a squeak of fear from her and an attempt to hide herself, but the stranger's reaction was far from expected. Rising from the bed the stranger drew himself from his wife and walked to where Jassilynne lay trying to hide. Tenderly, the stranger combed his fingers through her hair and drew her face closer to his still hard shaft. Almost like a child finding its thumb for the first time Jassilynne timidly suckled his still gleaming shaft between her lips. Looking at Dreyan the youth grinned, victoriously.

The stranger let his eyes inspect Dreyan, an eyebrow rising at the slight bulge in the lord's trousers. His voice was again cold, "Lord Dreyan, a pleasure you could join us. As I can tell you've enjoyed the sights up unto this point. Sit down and enjoy yourself further, the night is still young."

Dreyan sputtered, completely at a loss for words, "You intrude in my house, steal my wife and have the nerve to say it will continue. Are you completely daft?"

The stranger nodded as his fingers combed again through Jassilynne's hair and chuckled harshly, "You have a choice Dreyan. Continue your act at being offended and leave or sit down and take what pleasure you can from this evening. Either way your wife is mine to use for as long as I please." A lustful moan from his wife's full mouth was the answer to Dreyan's wonder if his wife would let this stranger have his way.

Hanging his head, Dreyan moved to the corner and sat down, his eyes drawn to the activity on the bed; unable to look away he felt his own manhood twitch and a strange stirring in his loins.