Meeting the Nymph
Marlon had her bent over a table in the dining hall and was pounding her pussy with his nice, thick dick. Sorcha was biting her lip to keep her moans quiet without much luck. Marlon's dick was decent sized and was one of the few that could successfully scratch that persistent itch that lay deep inside her. When he bothered with the effort, that was.
The edge of the table was digging into her soft stomach, but Sorcha didn't care. Opening her eyes, she stared down at the other men sitting at the table, watching. Her large breasts here smashed against the hard surface and the eyes of each of those men were firmly glued to the sight of her white mounds as they moved with each thrust of Marlon's hips. The only sound, the slapping of flesh as the men watched her being fucked right in front of them.
She was almost there. The pressure building tight, low in her gut. Marlon's hand gripped her hip hard, and she knew what that meant. "NO!" she screamed, "you keep going, you fucking moron."
Marlon grunted, and his pace increased. He was going to spew, and she wasn't ready. She shoved a hand under her to flick her overlarge clit, but it was no good. With a few last hard spasms of his body, Marlon shot his wad deep inside her. He was done.
Once again, she was left unfulfilled. Letting her head drop to the tabletop with a thump, she wondered briefly if maybe another would take his place. But the shouting of her name from across the room snuffed out that hope. Marlon gave her ass a firm slap as he pulled out.
"Thanks, slut, I needed that." All the men laughed with him and he moved away, still buttoning his pants.
Sorcha shoved off the table and let her short skirt fall to cover her aching pussy. She knew better than to give him the sneer and rebuff that sprang to her lips. If she pissed him off, chances of getting stuffed with that big cock anytime soon would shrivel right along with his schlong. She gave him her best fake smile and rubbed up against him as she moved away, heading back to the kitchen.
God, but her pussy ached.
Just once, she wanted to find a man that could last long enough to give her what she needed. With a sigh, she shoved open the swinging kitchen door. Evidently, her pussy felt so good to the men that fucked her that they couldn't hold out. Or so that's what they told her when they bothered to try to get her off. She could only take their word for it that even as she fucked every chance she got, her pussy was always wet and tight and ready for the next cock.
She came to a stop in front of old Matilda, the battle-ax in charge of the kitchen. Sorcha figured that the woman was so bitter and dried up because she was too mean spirited for any man to give her plumbing a proper greasing. That wasn't her fault, nor was it her problem, but unfortunately, the woman's constant grim mood made Sorcha's life even more frustrating. To amuse herself, she pictured the woman's reaction if Sorcha scooped up the jizz dribbling down her thighs and rubbed in the bitch's face.
Lifting a brow, she inquired, "Yes, ma'am?"
Matilda stared at her with cold, dead eyes. "You disgust me."
Sorcha felt the pinch of pain inside at the woman's words and forced a laugh. "No, I don't. You're so fucking jealous of me that you hate me. But secretly, I think you really wish you had a dick so you could fuck me, too." Just to annoy the woman even more, she reached into the top of her loose-fitting blouse and rubbed her tits that ached from being smashed into the table and also from wishing there was a hot, wet mouth attached to them.
Matilda's hand flew and slapped Sorcha right on the mouth. It stung, but it didn't hurt. High pain tolerance was only one part of Sorcha's fucked up life. She kept her eyes locked onto Matilda's as she licked her lip, tasting a bit of blood where her teeth cut into the flesh.
Indeed, today the evil was firmly on Sorcha's shoulder as, impulsively, she grabbed Matilda's face and jerked her close. She smashed her full, lush lips onto the frigid woman's thin and unyielding mouth. In the background, she heard something metallic drop onto the floor. Sorcha managed one quick grope of Matilda's large breast that felt like it was encased in metal armor before the woman shoved her hard enough to cause her to fall to the floor.
Wild laughter erupted from her. Matilda was flushed brick red and seemed to be completely speechless. Sitting sprawled on the floor, her short skirt up around her hips, Sorcha flashed her bare pink cunt at any who wanted to see. Reaching down, she stroked her fingers through the gloopy mess of Marlon's jizz and flicked her clit as it stood tall and proud, like her own tiny little penis.
It took Matilda a moment to find her voice. When she did, she screeched as Sorcha had never heard before. "Get out! I will report this behavior. I am done with you! Get out of my kitchen."
Sorcha brought her fingers to her mouth to lick off the salty wetness. She took her time standing up and even gave Matilda a saucy wink before turning on her heel. As she left the now utterly silent kitchen, she put all the sway she could into her hips. Just before leaving the room, she stopped, grabbed young Jonathan, and kissed him deep with lots of tongue. Only Matilda's scream of rage convinced her to let go of the young man, who now stood stunned and speechless. She gave his face a quick caress and flounced from the room.
In her head, she was berating herself.
Dammit, now I'll probably end up in the fucking laundry.
She'd been thrown out of so many jobs there weren't many left for her. Without something to do, boredom was a sure enemy to Sorcha. When she had nothing to keep her occupied, she got into the most trouble.
On impulse, she left the castle and headed for the dog kennel. She had no idea if Jeb was working today or not, but at least her favorite dog should be in residence. A quick trip across the neatly cut green grounds, and she pushed open the door to the kennel to be greeted by a riot of barking.
The king kept plenty of dogs for hunting as well as protection and Mack was her favorite. A large brown dog with no definable breed. He loved Sorcha. Approaching his stall, she found the dog standing on hind legs, his nose pressing over the top of the gate. He was so big he could easily put his paws on her shoulders.
"Hey, big boy. There's my favorite." She cooed as she gave his head and neck a good scratching. Mack licked neck and reached for her face before she laughed and backed off.
"Okay, okay." She backed up to the hard metal chair in the corner and sat. With a sigh, she relaxed into the chair, sharing snippets of her day with the wagging tail and attentive ears. Frustration tinged her voice as she recounted another unfulfilling moment. Mack whined in sympathy and pawed at his kennel door. Sorcha knew better than to let him free as he'd run straight out of the building and it would be her hide the king would come looking for.