This is the third part of the series, you need to read parts 1 &2 to understand where this one is coming from
The rest of my trek is uneventful. I reach my mistress’ love’s domain around midday. It is the same as it ever was. Heaven reaching spires fill my view, the acrid smell of melting metal and blown glass mixes with sweeter smells of baking pastries and boiling pots of stew.
I smile to myself as I move through the streets. Unlike my mistress’ city, I don’t have to hide here. I’m just another nameless traveler. I can breathe easier, but I remain on my guard, and the shifting weight of the blades as I ride reminds me.
After a night at the inn to recuperate, I set to my task of visiting the mistress’ secret lover.
Unlike the mistress’ castle, her love’s mansion is relatively unguarded and easy to attend to. I find the lattice work I’ve used in previous visits and scale it as quickly as ever. As I get closer to the window sounds catch my attention and I freeze.
The sounds are intense, heavy breathing. There is sound of movement. I continue to climb up, slower, and quieter now. I pull myself up, even with the open window and then use the window sill to support myself as I lean over and peer inside.
The view is startling. I find my temper quickly rising like the banks of the major river on the southern continent. There to my eyes I see her love, slender, alabaster skin a blur as he plows away at a rather attractive, but overly made-up blonde. He works himself in and out of her. He is standing by the edge of the bed, while she is on all her hands and knees in front of him.
He keeps adjusting his grip, but it’s clearly evident his boney fingers are digging into her flesh. Her mouth hangs open like a bass on a line, then the wailing comes. From what I’ve heard in legends of banshees, I’d assume this was a good facsimile. Her eyes, when they finally open are rolled back, showing only the whites of her eyes.
He keeps thrusting. I’m unsure how long the nude couple has been going at it, but I am impressed by his stamina. His thrusts are rhythmic, constant, and seem to be well practiced. His eyes close, and he leans over her and bites into her shoulder.
She grunts like a laborer in the field at this and obviously thrusts her plump bottom back at him, impaling herself more fully on his meat sword.
That’s when he grabs her hair, pulling her head back so roughly I’m surprised her head doesn’t just pop off her neck.
I feel myself hardening as I continue to watch. I know I should stop this, but conflicting emotions keep me paralyzed and my eyes engaged.
Meanwhile he keeps thrusting away at her, until he suddenly stops. I assume he’s about to finish, but I’m wrong. He pulls out, and then he rips her off the bed by her hips. In the middle of her backwards movement, she flips over and sits on the footlocker, looking up at him lustfully. I know this look particularly well, my wife gave it to me many times during our lovemaking. God, I miss her.
She then looks at the pierced penis in front of her. Gripping it by the base, she quickly descends upon it, impaling her head on the end of it. She continues further down the extreme length of it until she reaches the base, her nose embedded amongst his thick thatch of pubic hair.
His fingers entwine in her hair as he begins pushing and pulling her head on and off his manhood as his hips move in time with her controlled movements. He then pulls her all the way back down onto his sex and holds her head there. His head slowly falls back, his eyes closed, his hips thrusted forward.
It’s like looking at a very erotic painting, until I see her throat repeatedly tightening and loosening. I then realize she’s gagging on him. Her hands desperately grip and push away from his hips, but her head is held firm against him. Her eyes, once closed and lustful are now filled with panic. Her desperate grip turns to frantic slapping as she smacks his thighs, hips, and abdomen.
But his grip remains strong until he finally pulls her completely off his member. A thick string and coating of saliva connects his member to her mouth. It remains unbroken even as she coughs, chokes, and gasps for air.
He maliciously looks down at her and grins.
Then the fear of the plausible grips me. Is this what is in store for my mistress if I let her and him be together? Is he going to treat her as roughly as this?
She is a delicate flower. Pure. Gentle.
He is like a horny mongrel. Dirty. Rough.
I shift my weight on the lattice, and I feel one of my wrist blades shift. I briefly consider lobbing two blades into the room, one to slay him, the other to eliminate the fornicating witness. My hand is stayed realizing the wrong brought about by an indiscriminate slaying, and of a woman no less.
I shake myself back to reality as I watch as he orders her, like a slave, back onto the bed, and to “take the position.” She scrambles up onto bed, piles several pillows under her belly, leaving one to bury her face in as she grips the two posts at the head of the chamber bed. He takes his time as he approaches her up turned behind. I believe I know what he is about to do…and my concern for her well-being and safety begin to surface.
Just as he positions himself behind her, she reaches under the pillow and produces a dagger. My hand moves in a flash to one of my throwing knives and I take a throwing position. As I’m about to release I see her bite down on the blade’s handle. I know now I am correct in what I am about to witness.
On his knees behind her, he is at an almost perfect right angle to the bed as he grips and aims his upper class meat at her tender bud. I am filled with unsureness as I watch him force himself inside and her face scrunch with pain.