"Keep an eye out for my husband," the buxom older woman pleaded as she fell to her knees, her hands clumsily tugging at the tight waistband of her new friend's pants. The bulge in his groin was huge, larger than any turnip she had ever grown, and her mouth was already watering for it.
"Can do," Galvyn the Sparrow said in his smug, self-assured cavalier way. With one hand resting on the back of the unfaithful woman's head, and one hand on the curtains, Galvyn spied out the window for any sign approaching men. There were none, but there was an attractive little peasant girl skipping by, easily no older than twenty. Her slender legs bare up to mid-thigh where her short skirt ended. Galvyn figured if he was still horny after fucking this married woman he'd track down that cute little waif and give her tiny field a good hard plowing.
Truthfully, Galvyn was unconcerned whether or not this peasant whore's husband did catch them or not. Galvyn had bedded more married woman than the entire population of the small village he was passing through, and more than a few times he had been caught. It always ended the same way, with Galvyn putting his fist into the husband's face, and his cock into the wife's wet cunt. Peasant life was tedious, boring, and painfully unsexy. Getting into a married woman's bed was usually easier than marrying one in the first place.
"Oh, by the gods," the big-breasted butter-churner gasped as she pulled Galvyn's cock out of his pants. "You're huge!"
Galvyn's third-leg was as big as a baby's arm holding an apple, even soft. It was long, thick, pulsing with veins, hairless, and leathery. His balls were as big as walnuts and usually took a girl both hands to fondle. He was uncircumcised, but his bulbous bell-end helmet was simply so fat that his skin never covered it completely, and the thick musk that emanated from his glands was potent enough to make a woman swoon.
The top-heavy butter-churner's eyes glazed over as she fondled the meaty fuck-stick, and her puffy lips actually dripped with drool as she began sucking on the tip. She needed both hands to work the shaft, and even then there was room for her to wrap the cock up in her big fluffy breasts. Galvyn was accustomed to fucking woman who were simply too inexperienced to truly handle his cock, but this cow had a chance. He had met her just an hour before. She had been churning butter in front of her home, a chore she had been doing everyday for the last thirty-eight years. Her forearms were strong, her hands were calloused, and her tits were huge. She churned that butter-stick with such vigor that her breasts kept bouncing out of her inadequate bodice, which was what inspired Galvyn to begin flirting with her.
"Oh gods," Marionette gasped (or maybe it was Marion, or Moira). "I don't think I can get this whole thing down. You're as big as an ox. I--GLUCK!"
Galvyn grabbed the back of Maria's head and rammed his cock down her throat so hard he nearly dislocated her jaw. She started gagging immediately and pushing away, but Galvyn didn't let her go. He held her head tight and began slowly pulling it back and forth, sliding a baguette's length of penis in and out of her throat, churning her stomach the same way she churned butter. The gagging never really subsided, but she eventually submitted, and Galvyn began fucking her throat as she began rubbing her wet pussy against the floor.
Galvyn just smirked. He knew he had a big cock. This stupid village slut didn't need to tell him that. Galvyn had his sexual awakening when he was rather young, when he went swimming in the river with his friends. He remembered the way his friends reacted when he pulled his pants down, the way the other boys slumped their shoulders and pouted, the way the girls blushed and bit their lips.
Galvyn could have gotten his first taste of pussy right then, from any pretty girl who saw the pipe he was swinging, but Galvyn was still just naive enough to not realize how easy girls were going to be for him. It had been a wandering gypsy woman who made him a man, a dark-skinned goddess with even bigger tits than this peasant cow had. That raven-haired nymph fucked Galvyn in ways no other woman ever would again. In a single night that gypsy woman taught Galvyn half of everything he would ever learn about sex, and within a year Galvyn had to leave his village because there wasn't a single girl left he hadn't deflowered, or a single married woman he hadn't led astray, or a single friend he hadn't betrayed, or a single man he hadn't humiliated.
Galvyn left. He decided to take his big dick to big city. Too young to have a beard, Galvyn foolishly believed his wiles and sexual talents would be enough to get him by. They weren't, and the only way Galvyn learned to survive was by lying, cheating, stealing, and just generally being a complete asshole to everyone. That's what led Galvyn to become what he was now, a thirty-something rogue who went from village to village offering his services as a mercenary, all the while stealing and fucking whatever he could.
"Mmm . . . I think you've got me ready to cum," Galvyn grunted as he pushed his cock balls-deep into his abused lover's throat. "I hope you're hungry, because I cum enough to feed--"
"MAEBRESS!!!"
Maebress! That was the woman's name.
Galvyn looked up with a smug expression to find a very angry soldier standing in the doorway to Maebress's bedroom. He was wearing a black and purple uniform with a golden crow emblazoned on the coat, a design Galvyn had never seen before. It must have belonged to some newer lord, and it seemed Maebress's husband was a soldier in that lord's army.
Galvyn let go of Maebress's head and his cock slowly slipped free from her stretched-out throat, dripping with spit. As the ridge of his flanged helmet slid against the top of her mouth, and her tongue wrestled against the bottom of his shaft, Galvyn was pushed over the tipping point, and he began to cum.
"FUCK! YES!" Galvyn laughed. One blast of his orgasm was all it took to fill Maebress's mouth, so when his cock finally popped free it did so with a vicious explosion of semen. Galvyn kept cumming though, and no less than ten thick ropes of cum were sent flying several feet into the air, all of it splashing down across Maebress's face, breasts, and back. He twisted her messy black hair in his fist to hold her in place, and he finished by stroking out the last of his nut onto her neck, giving her a very heavy pearl-necklace.
"You bastard! My wife! I'll kill you, you cur!" The soldier yelled, reaching for his sword.
The blade of the soldier's broadsword was heavy and slow. Too slow. Before he even had half of it free from its sheath, Galvyn had crossed the room. Galvyn put his foot on the sword's pommel, kicked it back into the sheath, and with a single punch sent the soldier's rolling down the stairs to the floor below, unconscious.
"Oh gods! Derrick!" Maebress moaned, choking on cum.
"I know. That was rude of him to interrupt us," Galvyn joked.
"You bastard! Get out of my house!"
"I will," Galvyn agreed. "After the butter has been churned."
Galvyn pulled Maebress to her feet and ripped her bodice open. Her heavy breasts bounced up, and he pushed her onto the bed. She whined and pushed back against his hard implacable chest, but her legs wrapped around his waist, and her wet pussy opened like a flower as his cock crushed it. Galvyn fucked her until the bedframe began to crack, and when he ejaculated inside her she welcomed it with an incorherent screech of orgasmic hysteria, just like a hundred married woman before her.
#
When Galvyn was finished fucking Maryanne (he had forgotten her name again) into a catatonic state, he washed up using the family's drinking water, took a shit in their kitchen, and wiped his ass with the husband's surcoat, the one emblazoned with the golden crow. He also pilfered a few valuable looking knick-knacks that would be good for charming more impressionable women down the road.
Stepping out of the house (feeling as smug as a fox leaving a henhouse) Galvyn bumped right into a young girl who couldn't have been much older than nineteen, although her skinny form and petite height might have made her look much younger from a distance. She had short black hair, green eyes, freckles, and an attractive figure despite being completely flat-chested. She was barefoot like a hayseed, and the short hem of her skirt only went to mid-thigh.
It was the cute little pumpkin he had been spying on earlier. What luck.
"Um . . . who are you?" the waif asked, looking up at Galvyn with her big, sparkling, innocent green eyes, and adorable freckled face.
"Galyvyn," the rogue answered honestly. Subtlety was not his strong suite. "Galvyn the Sparrow. Perhaps you've heard of me."
The cute peasant girl giggled and blushed a little as Galvyn bowed to her in an exaggerated way.
