A Knight's Dance

"Mmm," she mewled beneath his mouth, clutching his shoulders and raising herself higher, to aid in the rubbing exploration on the nob of his prick. He nearly staggered backward, but managed to hold strong as they rolled their wet musky genitals together in a new fast-paced frolicking dance. Anagold's thighs clung around his waist as her heels dug into the hanks of his buttocks. She used this as leverage to hump his knob with increasing high pitched mewls of interest, overshadowed by his ridiculously loud bass grunts of pleasure. His long neglected prick was overjoyed, and his seed leaked joyously in a muted fountainhead of what was to come. But he was a man of opportunity, and he was not about to let this incredible chance evade him so quickly. Beautiful and willing wenches were hard to come by, not to be greedy with, and he had a heady bargain to reap.

He had never felt so much like laying his hands and mouth to a woman before, but he fully intended to taste each sweet inch of Anagold soft curving flesh. He wanted to hear the delightful sounds coming from her throat, curl louder into the night sky. She encouraged him with each quickening sound, and soon he had managed to wobble to the furs. His staggering gait was not due to loss of strength, but preoccupation with fiery eager lips and a hot cunt seeking satisfaction. He went to his knees on the fur, lifting his mouth from Anagold's anxious lips. "Sweet witch," he rasped, feeling her settle the lips of her cunt more firmly over his cock.

"Donaire," she gasped, and he knew she was unable to find the words for her needs, as he twitched his thighs, elevating his cock up and through her responsive cunt. Her blue irises glazed as she panted and he had undeniable proof of her pleasure that lifted his chest like nothing before.

"Ride me, wench," he gasped, as he leaned backward bracing on his hands and Anagold's small hands fell to the bulkhead of his chest, to lay firm. Her pale breasts were glowing in the firelight with their mingled sweat as she rocked her hips and her fiery cunt combined over the length of his cock. She slid heat and fire to the head, then back down again too just above his hanging balls. Her eyelids lowered as her back arched, thrusting her breasts forward magnificently, while the long hair down her back pooled between his inner thighs. Then she rode forward and he felt the feathered tresses caressing his balls and the root of his cock.

His head fell back in extreme rapture, as they both moaned together like the howling of a harsh wind. Soon his fiery Anagold was rocking on his cock to a rhythm of her own passion, and his pleasure was in the heavens, just barely holding on to the ever imminent ejaculation. But then, he heard Anagold, with her nails scratching his sweat-slicked chest. She cried the call of fulfillment, and he groaned like a harsh beast shaking its head, as she wet his cock liberally, with their bodies straining together beneath the moonlight.