Green Bush Erotica Volume 7

In the Knight’s Bedroom

 

Or

Never Fuck a Sleeping Dragon

 

 

Draco dormiens nunquam a futuo

Never fuck a sleeping dragon

 

Chapter One

 

The knight swung the sword as hard as he could, smashing it down on the slumbering dragon’s neck, attempting to sever the head from the body in one fatal and swift blow.

The sword shattered on the beast’s long red neck and its eye popped open. The knight jumped back in alarm. It had been sleeping so peacefully that the knight had been certain he could do this. The day was sunny and bright. The dragon was dozing in the warm sunshine on the large flat rock outside the cave that was obviously its lair.

Strangely the dragon didn’t seem all that perturbed by the knight’s ineffective attack. It slowly rose up as the knight shrank away to half hide in against the outcropping of rock that bordered the cave’s opening. Bits of shattered steel tinkled to the ground and the horse-sized monster fixed the knight with a withering glare. When the dragon opened its mouth the knight expected to die in an inferno of dragon fire. Instead it asked, “Were you really trying to kill me?”

Despite himself and his fear, the knight managed to warble out, “Y-y-y-yes.”

“You know,” said the dragon, “that’s not going to work unless you have a magic sword. Or spear. Or a nice magic axe. Those are very rare. Dragons are all but immortal. You can’t kill a dragon with a plain steel sword.”

“M-m-m-maybe I have a magic dagger in my boot I’ll kill you with!” Despite his bravado the dragon wasn’t impressed with the knight.

The dragon sniffed the air. “No. I don’t smell any magic on you.” The dragon’s eyes narrowed and focused on the knight’s heart. “You are no threat to me. What is your name, man?”

“Sir Tarant,” he answered.

“And why are you trying to kill me, an innocent dragon having a nice nap in the warm sunshine.”

“It’s a knight’s job to kill dragons.” Even Sir Tarant didn’t sound convinced of his lie.

“No it’s not,” the dragon countered. “The king’s huntsmen are supposed to kill the beasts and monsters that infiltrate the kingdom. Knights are supposed to woo ladies, fight in tournaments, and cause problems in the court.” Its eyes narrowed to the tiniest of slits. “Tell me the truth.”

“My lady promised to marry me if I could slay a dragon like the true knights of old.”

The dragon regarded Sir Tarant a moment longer and then burst into growling laughter that caused the armor-clad knight to clamp his steel gauntlets over his ears and pray for silence. “Oh, that’s an interesting tale. Do tell.”

His eyes bulged at her. “You want me to tell me why I tried to kill you?” He automatically accepted the fact that dragons could talk; it was harder to understand why a dragon would want to know a knight’s motivation in dragocide.

“It’s terribly boring up here on my mountain. Amuse me and maybe I won’t kill you.”

“O-o-o-okay,” Tarant stuttered. “Um, it’s really not much more complicated than what I already told you. As I said, my lady promised to marry me if I could kill a dragon and bring her the head.”

“She sounds like an awful person,” the dragon said reproachfully. “Who would want to kill a dragon? And by the way you say it I know you’re lying. Tell me the whole story. Leave nothing out. Pretend you’re telling a story for the amusement of the king at a high banquet.”

“I’m not sure—”

“I’m sure,” the dragon interrupted him. “And you look awfully young to be marrying. What’s your little secret?”

Sir Tarant had the audacity to actually blush. “There are certain…personal relationship complications that are involved.”

The dragon’s eyes brightened. “Intrigue! You have my full attention!”

“And there are parts that I’d sooner leave out,” he added, his face bright red now.

“Even better if they are dirty,” the dragon all but purred as it sidled over the hard rock and twined the end of its long tail around Tarant’s leg. “Leave nothing out.”

 

 

Chapter Two

 

Sir Tarant and Lady Violet were in the sewing room of his family manor house. This was all that unusual because the sewing room had the most beautiful view of the valley. The manor house was perched on the edge of the valley and the sunsets were spectacular all year long. The only better place for a view of the valley was the western porch where the family dined out of doors in the summer.

Tarant and Violet weren’t there for the view or for sewing. Tarant was standing braced against one of the tables, his pants around his ankles. Violet was on her knees with his cock in her mouth. Since she was a lady of good breeding she wouldn’t deign to lay down with a man of so little family status until they were married. Sucking his cock to bring him to marriage, however, was perfectly acceptable. Since she wanted Tarant to understand this she hadn’t removed any of her clothing. She was a lady after all.

“I’m going to cum,” he breathed heavily. Violet was a practiced cocksucker. She was much better than either of the milkmaids, the twin Stewart sisters, that Tarant regularly used behind the barns. That wasn’t surprising because the milkmaids were just barely of marriageable age while Lady Violet was nearly a spinster. A very experienced spinster. Her father was keeping her unmarried looking for the right match. Violet’s family had noble titles and history, but no money. Tarant’s family had money because his father had deigned to sully himself as a merchant, trading sheep’s wool and fine wines, but had little noble status beyond an ancient ancestor who was the bastard son of a minor lord. It was a match made in the heavens.

Violet paused briefly, taking her mouth off his cock while continuing to stroke him with her hand. “In my mouth,” she said. She was older than Tarant, not old, but older, and certainly more experienced. “And don’t sully my dress.” Though she dressed somewhat modestly—displaying just enough cleavage to be seen as available to the right suitor but not so much that she would be confused with a common prostitute—for her little cocksucking episode she had tugged down her blue dress just enough to show off every inch of her cleavage for Tarant to enjoy. This also had the positive benefit of baring her shoulder and upper chest so that if he did not manage to finish entirely in her mouth it would most likely drip on her skin and not stain her dress. She wasn’t the sort of woman who would go about advertising what she did in the privacy of her suitor’s mother’s sewing room.

When she put his cock back between her lips Tarant nodded and clamped his eyes shut to better focus on her busy little fingers teasing the underside of his member and her tongue twirling around the head. He erupted with gasping cries of satisfaction. She kept her mouth sealed to his cock, swallowing every little bit of spunk he pushed out of his balls. The twitch and heat he produced was most satisfactory to her lusty needs and it was with great relish she smacked her lips when he was done pulsing and filling her mouth.

“I can’t wait to marry you so I can fuck you properly,” groaned Tarant as he all but collapsed to the floor.

Violet daintily wiped her mouth with a silk handkerchief she keep secreted in her sleeve and wished for a drink of wine. As he slid down, she stood up. “I doubt we’ll be getting married,” she said off-handedly.

“What?” Tarant was shocked. Everything had been going perfectly. “But our fathers are negotiating the marriage contract right now.”

“True. But we’ve determined your family is too low status to actually marry ours.” She didn’t seem the least bit upset by this. Tarant was crushed.

“But…”

“Unless there is something you can do to raise your personal status,” she mentioned. “But I doubt that you can do that.”

“How would I do that?” he asked eagerly.

“I don’t know,” Violet said. “Rescue a princess from kidnappers. Stop assassins from killing the king. Slay a ravenous monster.” She ran her fingers along a quilt that Tarant’s mother had been working on with his sisters. The stitching was exquisite. It was too bad Tarant would never bed her. Such talent in the family would have been nice.

“There’s a dragon at the south end of the valley,” Tarant said in hushed tones. “I’ll kill it for you,” he promised.

“And bring me back the head?” she asked, amused. “For that I’ll make sure you’re admitted to the Order of the Garter.”

“You’ll have the head by week’s end,” he vowed.

 

The dragon looked at him skeptically. “One blowjob and you promise a tart that you’ll kill a dragon for her?” The dragon was disappointed in the caliber of this would-be dragonslayer.

“Several blowjobs, actually,” he corrected the dragon.

“I see. And what are you going to tell the slutty Lady Violet now that you’ve failed in your duty to her?”

Tarant sighed. “Nothing. You’re going to kill me so my troubles are over.” He closed his eyes and lifted his chin so that the dragon might slice open his throat with one quick slash of its claws.

The dragon gave a wry, throaty chuckle. “I’m not going to kill you.”

Tarant half opened one eye. “You’re not?”

“No.” A dragon’s smile is a wry and rare thing. Tarant witnessed one now. “There’s more than one way to slay a dragon.”

“There is?”

In the blink of an eye the dragon was next to him, pinning him to the cliff wall. The heat from the monster’s body was tremendous. Tarant realized the dragon was much smaller than he initially realized. Still large, yes, but most of the bulk was taken up by large wings and a long tail. The body itself wasn’t much larger than Tarant. “There is,” the dragon promised. “What are your thoughts on inter-species intimacy?”

The question caught the young knight off-guard. Once more he stammered. “I-I-I-I-I know some of my family’s shepherds don’t just watch the sheep out in the fields.” He failed to go into his own personal history as a shepherd.

The dragon breathed directly in his face. While the monster’s head was lizard-like, it wasn’t much larger than that of a big dog. He expected the creature’s breath to smell of charcoal and death; instead it was more like cinnamon. Much to his chagrin he felt his cock hardening beneath his armor.

“Dragons have many talents,” the monster said after a long, uncomfortable moment. “We fly, we fight, we kill, we can smell magic, and we can work magic.” One of the small front claws the creature normally walked on suddenly gripped his crotch. “We know how to inflame the lust of young men and make them our slaves in bed.”

That was easy to believe. Tarant was feeling that particular talent’s effect right now. “I don’t believe you,” he said anyway. He knew what was coming and was nearly paralyzed with fear over it.

“I’ll make you believe it,” the dragon promised and breathed once more in his face. Tarant tried to hold his breath, but that was a wasted effort. Once he sucked in a lungful of the cinnamon-spiced air he knew he was doomed. He wondered how the dragon was going to abuse him. Would he simply be forced down on his hands and knees and be buggered like the lowliest squire? It didn’t really matter at this point. His need was so great that he started unbuckling the straps to his armor himself. He wasn’t fully plated, but it still took some effort to get everything off. It was disturbing to have the dragon watching him with slitted eyes, but he cast that concern aside. Soon he was down to just his loincloth and soft woolen undershirt, the best made by his family. Automatically he went down on his knees, expecting the dragon to mount him, push its obscene cock into his ripe, virgin backend.

“What are you doing?” the dragon growled.

Tarant looked over his shoulder at the strong beast. “Letting you fuck me,” he said somewhat pathetically.

The dragon grunted. “Yet I’m the one desiring your cock,” it hissed as it picked Tarant up off the ground and pushed him to his feet, taking his place on the ground, tail swept up to the side and hide end raised. Tarant looked at the intersection between the dragon’s rear legs and tail. There was a small pucker there but just beneath was, unmistakably, a bright red cunt.

Without thinking, because there wasn’t a need for such a thing, Tarant grabbed the beast’s hindquarters and angled his hips to sink his hard cock deep into the wet and waiting cunt. It felt better than either of the twin Stewart sisters that Tarant fucked behind the barns at home. Once he quickly accustomed himself to holding the large warm body of the dragon fucking the beast wasn’t much bigger than fucking the bigger Stewart sister, Krystyn. She had a fat ass, but it was soft and enjoyable to see her flesh shake. The dragon—and only at that moment did Tarant realize was a female dragon, once his cock was buried safely in her monstrous cunt—growled as Tarant’s hips started rocking back and forth on their own accord. And once again it took the young knight a few moments to realize the growl wasn’t one of aggression but of appreciation of his cock-slinging skills.

“Gooooood,” the dragon growled, drawing out the word to show her satisfaction with a human cock in her cunt. Maybe this dragon had been hit one too many times in the head, Tarant thought, and now lusted after human males instead of male dragons. Was there such a mental disease? Tarant shook his head and pushed aside the thought. It didn’t matter. Her cunt was warm and wet and gripped his cock better than Krystyl, the other Stewart twin, whose pussy was tighter than her plumper sister’s. Tarant was positive he could feel little bumps and ridges inside the dragon. That only made sense because he wasn’t fucking a human, he was fucking a dragon. He thought about the shepherds out in the pastures and how a sheep’s hole felt in comparison to a woman’s pussy. A grin spread across Tarant’s face when he realized that he was probably the only person in his father’s small fiefdom that could now compare human cunt to dragon cunt.

He grunted his happiness and started fucking the dragon in earnest. Her long, sinuous neck turned around so she could look directly at him with her arched and slitted eyes. “Your cock is much harder than the last man I fucked,” she panted at him.

“Uh-huh.” He was already beyond words and near the edge of his orgasm. That was amazing because it usually took him a good five minutes—at least—of fucking Krystyl before he was ready to cum. And Lady Violet—though incredibly talented with her tongue—needed a minimum of ten minutes before he was ready to erupt in her mouth. It occurred to Tarant that maybe he was a pervert, a man who preferred the cunts of monsters to those of women. Then he remembered it had to be something in the dragon’s breath the way it smelled of cinnamon and doubtless contained other things as well. He wasn’t like that—was he? At the moment he didn’t care. He just wanted—needed—to cum inside the dragon’s pussy and be done with it. But at the same time he wanted to fuck the dragon forever because the sensations were exquisite—even better than the most expensive cunts at the Red Lantern Inn.

The dragon’s eyes narrowed—a nearly impossible feat for a dragon—and she realized what was about to happen. “Yes,” she pleaded. “Cum in me. I need you to cum in me.”

Tarant just nodded and concentrated on his cock. There was going to be an explosive orgasm and he was going to enjoy every little bit of it. He tossed his head back and animalisticly howled as he came. His balls tightened to his body and his hips jerked without any real control. He could feel as if his essence were squirting out of his body and into the dragon’s.

Once he started cumming the dragon responded beautifully. She growled and panted. Her cunt tightened up on his cock, squeezing out every last drop of his spunk. His orgasm didn’t last long and he thrusted in her a few more times as the last bit of semen was forced into her cunt. Tarant realized after the act was completed that the dragon was rolling around in her own orgasm. He wanted to disengage but her cunt had clamped down so firmly on his cock that he couldn’t pull out. He was bound to her for the duration.

She howled and screamed in an inhuman fashion—which was only right because she was a dragon. The orgasm took complete control of her body and she thrashed about with tail and wings and her short, powerful legs. Tarant was tossed about—he had no control and feared for his life—but if he were to die this would surely be the best way to go about shuffling off the mortal coil.

And then—as if something worse couldn’t happen—the dragon started to change. She collapsed to the hard rocky ground and was motionless a moment. For an instant Tarant was certain he had killed her, slain her with not his metal sword bound to his hip but the flesh one he kept in his pants. After a second her flesh started to writhe again, but this time she wasn’t flailing her limbs—it was as if her body was wiggling and changing inside her bright red skin. And then she was shrinking and her skin wasn’t so bright—it was fading to the palest china white and her wings disappeared while her limbs and body slowly evolved from that of a dragon to that of a human. Just like that he was suddenly attached to a human woman’s cunt—a woman with long fiery hair, porcelain skin, a tight cunt, shapely hips, and a tattoo of elaborate wings that covered her entire back.

The dragon-woman looked over her shoulder at Tarant and asked between heavy breaths, “Would you mind taking your cock out of me?”

“Of course,” he said automatically. It was the chivalrous thing to do. The grip on Tarant’s cock lessened and he found he was able to pull himself free of the beautiful woman’s cunt. Only after doing so did he realize he had just wasted a perfect opportunity to fuck a woman more beautiful than the Stewart sisters and Lady Violet combined.

“Thank you so much,” she said as she stood up and stretched. Her accent was hard to place but she was easy enough to understand. Certainly she didn’t come from the midlands or the northern valley. Perhaps her family was from the coastal summerlands? Tarant ogled the woman’s body. It was flawless with perfect proportions, full breasts, freckles that covered her arms and shoulders plus a scattering over her cheeks and nose, with a deep red thicket of hair covering her pussy.

“You are so very welcome.” It occurred to Tarant he wasn’t sure what he was being thanked for. Was it for pulling out of her cunt or transforming her from a dragon to a woman? And how in the name of the seven hells had that happened? He was fairly certain he didn’t have a magic cock no matter how many times Krystyn told him he did. He bowed slightly in accepting her gratitude, only slightly hobbled by his slowly shrinking cock.

“My name is Elspeth. Would you believe I was cursed by an evil witch to live out my life as a dragon until I was saved by the love of a knight with a pure heart?” She batted her eyes innocently at him and dropped a semi-formal curtsy, only slightly hampered by her lack of skirt.

Tarant nodded slowly. “I might believe that…except I’m not sure I have a pure heart.”

Elspeth’s smile slipped slightly. “Would you believe I was cursed to be a dragon until I was fucked by any man who happened along?”

Tarant nodded. “That I would believe.” A slight breeze stirred the air and he realized his pants were still around his ankles. He pulled them up and continued to stare at Elspeth’s nude body. She gaze back and licked her lips fetchingly.

“Would you mind if I slipped into my cave for some clothes? I’d hate to return to a human kingdom wearing nothing at all. Being naked is natural for a dragon…but not so much for me.”

Tarant nodded once more. He’d happily go along with anything she suggested and followed as Elspeth slipped into her cave. It was easy to follow her because her perfect buttocks rolled back and forth in just the right way to make his cock hard again.

 

They rode double on his horse back to his father’s manor house and Elspeth wore a dress she had found a dress in her cave that was easily a hundred years out of fashion. Even Tarant knew this and he didn’t give a whit about women’s fashion trends.

“Are you really going to wear that back to the kingdom?” he asked her.

She gave him a jaundiced eye. He couldn’t see it since she was riding behind him. Although the saddle horn looked like a nice, firm place to rest her pussy, that wasn’t on her mind at the moment. Although she had spent much of the last century living as a dragon it didn’t appear to have affected Elspeth all that much. Not that Tarant had that much to go on, but she was acting mostly like a normal human being. Mostly.

“In case you didn’t notice, it’s not like when I changed back to a woman that I was wearing any clothes. If you might remember, you had your dick in my pussy.”

“I remember,” he said dreamily.

“And I didn’t bring any fashionable clothes with me when I was exiled out here,” she pointed out. “I was sort of rushed at the time.”

“Right. That I don’t recall.”

“There’s a good reason for it. It happened a long time ago. And I’ve been avoiding human lately.”

“That makes sense.”

“Right it does.” She ran her hand down his chest and settled it on his abdomen. Tarant had removed his armor and packed it away in the bags hanging off the back of the horse. He was just wearing a linen shirt and tight pants now. Fashions for men had certainly changed in the time she was gone and he didn’t seem to mind at all when she felt his firm muscles; he even tensed them up a bit so she could feel how strong he was. He might be a bit of a twit, but he had the build of a demi-god. “And how do you propose to present me to your family?” she asked. “You were supposed to bring back the head of a dragon to impress Lady Violet, were you now?”

“I thought we solved that little problem?” Inside the cave Elspeth had a two kings’ ransom in jewels and gold hidden away, plus a bit more to bail an earl or duke out of jail as well. She claimed it wasn’t hers, that it belonged to the last dragon who occupied the cave. He wasn’t sure if he believed her. In any event, they had scooped up some of the booty along with a small wooden chest she assured him would help ease her way back into the king’s court.

Elspeth was purposely vague about her history when he asked. He couldn’t remember any princess or lady of note being cursed into dragon form and being exiled for it, but that didn’t mean much. He didn’t keep up on current events. Maybe it was a secret her family kept from general knowledge and wanted her to be forgotten.

“We have—sort of. I’ve been away for a while, I know that. What year is it exactly?”

“This is the twenty-first year of the rule of King Edrond,” he told her.

She coughed politely. “And what year is that from the coronation of King Almund?”

He laughed at her. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I have trouble keeping royal history straight.” He thought a minute, counted off on his fingers, and finally declared, “Probably close to a hundred and twenty years. Maybe. I’m not sure. Why do you ask? Almund wasn’t that great a king.”

“Because I was turned into a dragon two years after he was crowned.”

The revelation hung thick between them. “Oh.” Tarant paused and then said the next words that occurred to him regardless of their stupidity. “So that makes you really old then.”

“I suppose it does,” she agreed. “In human years, at least. Apparently I still have the eighteen year old body of my human self, though. That’s good.”

“That’s great,” he said dreamily as she dropped her hand lower to feel the bulge of his cock through his pants. “If you keep your hand there it might take us longer to get home than I planned.”

“I wouldn’t mind that,” she said as she started rubbing him hardening manhood.

“I’m on a schedule.”

Anything to keep his mind off the fact he had fucked a woman who was over a century old. “And I have a hundred years of lust to make up for,” she whispered in his year even though no one was around and whispering wasn’t necessary. His cock continued to grow.

“I’m not sure I can get it up again so soon.”

“You’re young and virile. I’m sure that you can.”

That was enough for him to pull her around the front of his body and kiss her deeply. Elspeth pulled down the front of her dress, displaying her tits for his approval, letting him fondle them as he pleased. They both wanted to fuck again. All he had to do was let her down off the horse and take here right there in the middle of the field. It would be perfect.

He started to do just that, easing her off the horse and letting her down gently to the ground. But then a thought occurred to Tarant as he started to thrown his leg over the saddle to dismount. “How did you get cursed and turned into a dragon anyway?” he asked. It was never a good thing for Tarant to have a good idea or a good question.

“That’s a good question,” she admitted and despite already being half naked and once-fucked by Tarant, she had the good manners to blush. “An earl found me in bed fucking his daughter,” she admitted.

“His son,” he corrected her. Tarant was proud of himself. He knew how sex worked between a man and a woman.

“No,” she corrected him. “His daughter. I think that’s the part that disturbed him. It would have been fine if it was his son. Anyway, it pissed him off enough for him to find his mother-in-law, who was an actual witch, to curse me.”

“Oh.” Tarant was stunned and hovered half on and half off his horse, in midair as if held by a magical spell. “You had sex with another woman?”

“Yes. It was delightful. Too bad it wasn’t the previous day when I actually had bedded his son.” She purposely let that little detail slip. “I like both men and women. But you already know I like fucking men.”

That he did. The story was enough for Tarant to jump from his horse, throw Elspeth to the ground, pull down his pants just enough to get his cock out, pull up her dress just enough to expose her pussy, and start fucking her in the middle of the field without any further foreplay.

It was a hard an intense fuck, all passion and no technique. Neither of them minded and both finished quickly. It almost no time at all they were back on Tarant’s horse and trotting toward his family’s home. Tarant’s spunk was seeping out of Elspeth’s pussy and leaking down her leg. She didn’t mind.

 

 

Chapter Three

 

Explaining Elspeth’s presence was much easier when her existence was leavened with the revelation of the fortune that Tarant had brought home with him. The simply said she was a prisoner of the dragon living on her wits and luck until Tarant came along. The gold and jewels explained away a lot—or at least Tarant’s father was distracted enough by them not to care.

Lady Violet’s father was not so certain of the situation.

“What did you say your name was, dear?” he asked.

“Elspeth. Lady Elspeth.”

“And you’re from where?”

“The northern mountains. I was stolen away here by the dragon.” It was only a half-lie.

After many congratulations were bestowed upon Tarant and a quick celebratory feast was thrown in his honor, he retired to his bedroom claiming exhaustion. No evidence other than the treasures and gold were necessary to prove his dragonslaying skills. In the end, money was more important than hard evidence of a dragon’s corpse.

Elspeth was given a room in which to sleep and a promise to send a messenger in the morning to her family to let them know she was alive and well.

Lady Violet and her father conversed in low tones in a corner of the banquet hall plotting their next step.

“I don’t know who she is but I don’t trust her,” Violet raged.

“The lad is smitten with her,” the Earl of West Haveredfordshire nodded gravely. “We’ve gone from them wanting us to us needing them…if that chest of gold is any evidence of what other treasures the dragon’s cave holds.”

“I know,” sobbed Violet. It wasn’t that she didn’t have any affection for Tarant, but more importantly she was losing a game to a woman she didn’t know and might not have any standing in the royal court. That couldn’t be allowed.

“Go to him tonight,” her father told her. “Seduce him—physically.” He nodded with a sly wink. “I think you know exactly what I mean.”

She gave her father a roll of her eyes and then glared at him. “Sleep with him, fuck him, get pregnant by him. I’m no fool, Father.”

 

Since the manor house was relatively small and the family relatively lacking in status if not money, it was easy for Lady Violet to slip through the hallways and ghost into Tarant’s room. She wore a thin nightdress that was less substantial than moonlight over a revealing white corset and matching panties. If pressed Tarant would have his doubts about Violet’s virginity—which was fine with him—but wearing unsullied whites would give her the illusion of purity.

After locking his door behind her Violet let the nightdress slide to the floor. She carried a candle with her which she used to light the lamp on the table next to the door, letting just enough illumination into the room to relax her eyes.

The corset pushed up her breasts, putting a massive amount of cleavage on display. Her panties were more an afterthought than anything else, a bit of lace tied together with a length of ribbon. Even in the dim light the dark patch of her curly black triangle was visible under the lace. The ribbon went around her waist and between the cleft of her buttocks. She knew exactly what young men liked in experienced women.

“Tarant?” she called softly to the bed. “I’ve come for you tonight. I have a special reward for my brave dragonslayer.”

A figure sat up from the bedclothes and said, “He’s very tired. I think I wore him out.”

Violet frowned and turned up the wick on the lamp to reveal the lithe form of Elspeth. The bedclothes were bunched around her waist. She didn’t mind displaying her bare breasts. Presumably she wouldn’t have minded displaying her bare cunt either, Violet thought with great anger. “Slut,” she hissed under her breath.

“And you are so much better?” Elspeth asked archly. She was sad that she so easily remembered the petty insults of court.

“I’m merely bedding the man I’m destined to marry. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Violet had perfected haughty.

“Too late. I’ve already bedded him tonight. Try again some other lifetime.”

“Bitch,” Violet found herself cursing.

“Cunt,” Elspeth returned getting right to the point.

Despite her rank as a lady of the court and heir to too many titles to count on both hands Violet found herself tearing across the room to attack Elspeth. The two women hissed and scratched at each other, trying to lock their hands around each other’s necks and silently strangle the other to death. They would have screamed their frustration at each other, but they didn’t want to wake the rest of the house.

They couldn’t help but wake Tarant, however. He cursed under his breath and tried to figure out what was happening. Once he comprehended the two women in his life were fighting in his bed he watched them going at each other as his dick was getting harder. When they started getting serious about injuring the other, he actually made the effort to separate them.

“What the fuck is going on?” he demanded.

The two women burst out with simultaneous streams of explanations. He didn’t understand either one of them.

“Fuck it. Shut up and leave. Both of you.”

The two women goggled at him, neither believing he would kick both of them out of his bed. “I’ll suck your cock,” said Violet.

“You’ve already done that for me,” he pointed out.

“I’ve fucked him twice,” Elspeth bragged. “Top that.”

Violet’s mouth twisted into a little moue of anger, and then she happened upon a bright idea. “I’ll eat her pussy while you fuck me,” she said.

He nodded. “I’m up for that,” he agreed with a wink to Elspeth that Violet didn’t see.

The former dragon picked up on his plan. “Don’t I get a say in this matter,” she asked with a tinge of anger.

“If she does a lousy job eating your pussy she loses,” Tarant decided. “If she makes you cum, then she’s back in the running.”

Elspeth didn’t know what kind of woman (and former dragon) Tarant thought she was, but he had managed to come extremely close to the exact type of woman she was. The game redhead pushed the bedclothes off her body and flopped back on the soft mattress, opening up her legs, exposing the blood-red stain at the apex of her thighs. “Go ahead,” she said meaningfully to the black-haired woman.

Tarant moved off the bed, his cock jutting out, fully erect, as Violet nervously crawled between the other woman’s legs. She had spoken quicker than she thought. Going down on Elspeth would be the first time she had sex with a female. The idea wasn’t objectionable to her, but she was worried about her performance. What if she wasn’t up to the challenge? That was the real problem.

Dipping her face down to Elspeth’s cunt Violet gamely opened her mouth, stuck out her tongue, and tasted her rival’s cunt. It was spicy and musky at the same time. The little nub of her clit rose up and, knowing what she liked, Violet gave it a little lick and then a pinch. Elspeth sighed and pushed up her hips, wanting more tension and pressure on her sex.

Meanwhile, Tarant had gotten behind Violet’s upraised ass and admired the smoothness of her skin and the tension of muscle. There was no need to move the nearly nonexistent panties down. They were simply tied on the sides. Tarant pulled on the ribbons and the silk and lace flimsy fluttered down to the bed which exposed her moistening cunt and her tightly puckered asshole.

For a moment Tarant considered the black rosebud of the woman’s ass. The Stewart sister’s actually preferred to be fucked in the ass because there was no risk of pregnancy that way, but Tarant wasn’t a fan of anal sex. He liked the smoothness and perfect tension of cunt. He had no grease for her backdoor anyway. Instead he pressed the pad of his thumb on her anus and with his other hand guided his cock into Violet’s cunt.

He knew he shouldn’t be surprised to realize her maidenhead was long gone. Lady Violet would never be confused with the Virgin Violet. Tarant briefly wondered who her first lover had been and how many she had had before him, but that thought was put aside as his hips started the back and forth motion of the all-too-human need to fuck. As he started the rocking motion Violet lifted her face from Elspeth’s cunt and moaned her pleasur