Blue Dress Doesnt Stay On Long

Distilled from hundreds of carefully harvested orgasms of a few well-chosen slaveman stallions, the liquid held the power to (if only temporarily) satisfy the overwhelming lust that was burning between Morgana's thighs. Taking a deep breath, she carefully applied the fluid to her nubby, swollen little clit and her eyes, along with the serving girl's, riveted to that small bud of flesh. The familiar shivering, electric vibration traveled from Morgana's extremities up into her torso and concentrated into a ball of heat deep in her belly, and she gave a long drawn out wail as her clit began to swell, harden and extend itself. Like a slow-motion movie of a flower unfolding, her clit became a full, thick, seven-inch penis, crowned by a sharp-ridged deep red head that quivered with sexual power and lust. The serving girl cried out, "Please, your Majesty, fuck me now, fuck me hard, fuck me please!!" and sensuously writhed her hips toward her Queen in invitation. Morgana grasped one of the serving girl's small hands in each of hers and pinned them to the bed. She positioned herself above fetish the delicate pink lips of the offered pussy and roughly thrust her rock-hard cock/clit deep inside. Morgana began a deep, slow grinding fucking that pushed her rigid flesh deep into the serving girl until she pressed against the limits of the young but experienced womanhood and then pulled out until the head, shinning with wetness, just cleared the puffy gaping lips, before stabbing deep again. Queen Morgana continued this pounding rhythm like a machine, her eyes tightly closed and her face wearing a tight expression of complete concentration. Inwardly she was consumed by the sensation of penetrating the serving girl's hot, tight slit over and over. Morgana built to her climax, completely oblivious to the passionate moaning of the girl under her. She did not change her motion or rhythm as the serving girl angled her hips to press her own little clit against the shaft thrusting in and out of her, and she did not notice when the girl howled in pleasure as her pussy spasmed again and again in it's climax. Soon after, though, Morgana's labored breathing suddenly stopped, and she pulled all the way out and shoved forward, releasing the girl's hands. The Queen threw her head back and tensed every muscle, one hand wrapped around the shaft of her cock and the other thrusting several fingers deep inside her pussy. Morgana grunted from deep inside herself as jet after jet of clear, thick cum burst from the tip of her cock and sprayed across the chest, throat and face of the nearly delirious serving girl, and copious dollops of pussy-juice ran past her fingers to flow down onto the girl's smooth belly and shaven mound. The girl, fucked almost insensible, feebly scooped the Queen's cum up to her mouth and licked her fingers clean over and over, until she had to lean forward to suck and lick the last drops from the tip of Morgana's still hard flesh. Morgana grabbed a handful of the serving girl's hair and thrust herself deep in the slack mouth, and then pulled out, wiping the cum and spittle onto the girl's gratefully dazed face. The Queen blonde dropped her back onto the bed, and in an unusual gesture, flung the blankets back over the thin girl's body. Morgana, still naked, strutted back out into the morning sun on her balcony, and breathed deeply as she reality watched her big cock slowly gather into itself and regain the familiar shape and texture of her beautiful clitoris. She was deeply, fundamentally satisfied... but even then she felt the familiar tingle of renewing lust tickling at her senses. She looked down into the courtyard at the door to the Milking Room, where she knew the Scullery Maid, with all the skill and experience of her years of duty, was hard at work. Behind the door of the Milking room, in a dimly lit stall, the Scullery Maid prepared her equipment with the casual precision of a craftswoman of long experience. She remembered how daunting all the preparations and equipment had seemed when an unexpected opening in the Milk Maid roster had given her the opportunity to be promoted from her menial Scullery Maid duties. In a bit of reverse pride, she allowed everyone to continue to call her Scullery Maid - maybe just to show she was unashamed of her humble beginnings. She placed the sterilized tubing and collection cup on the table next to the minute vacuum pump, and checked the cross-ties and leather restraints, though she knew her tack was perfect in every way. After a last look that confirmed everything was laid out to her satisfaction, she straightened her skirt and blouse and went out into the corridor that led to the stable proper. Walking past the stall that housed Prince, a strapping 20-year-old stallion with blond hair and bulging muscles that had been hardened by hard work in the fields, she allowed herself a small smile. She heard Megg, another Milk Maid, hissing frustrated curses at Prince as she tried to get him tacked up for milking. Apparently Prince was not feeling cooperative, and no wonder! Megg might have been the Scullery Maid's primary competition for the annual Production Prize, but she just didn't have the knack of dealing with these powerful, sensitive creatures on their own terms. The Scullery Maid came up to a stall door that belonged to Thor, her absolute favorite stallion of the whole Royal stable, and smiled broadly as she heard him humming to himself behind the closed stall door. He was not a handsome specimen, and his conformation was not ever going to win him a Blue Ribbon at a stock show, but his winning personality and willing production has caused the Scullery Maid to bond with him in a way that was almost unnatural... The Big Boobs Scullery Maid paused outside the stall amateur door and looked at her reflection in the shiny steel casing of a water heater. Not young, but not yet old, her full figure filled her Maid's uniform perfectly, and the powerful cattle prod hanging at her belt shined in the light. She was aware of the admiring glances she often received from the Princesses and Duchesses that surrounded the Queen, and many of the other household women that she worked with. Her mouth turned down momentarily as that thought reminded her of her wife Synthia. A tall, slim woman with a bitter outlook on life, Synthia no longer seemed to find the Scullery Maid as attractive as she once did, and constantly ridiculed her for all and any small details of her looks and behavior. "That's the way it is with long-married couples," the Scullery Maid thought, and shrugged off the negative thoughts as she tried to concentrate on her task at hand. Synthia even ridiculed her job as Milk Maid, and dismissed the possibility of the Scullery Maid winning the Production Prize as meaningless. Synthia often sniffed loudly when the Scullery Maid came home from a day's work, and muttered comments about "the whole house smelling like the filthy livestock" until the Scullery Maid took a long shower. Oscar’s eyes widened. “Ooow, yes please.” Now, what happens when Big Boobs blonde they say no? No becomes ‘it’s needed.’ ‘It’s needed’ becomes ‘yes.’ ‘Yes’ becomes ‘immediately.’ I ate food from her fridge and we went to her bedroom where she began trying to kiss me, I stopped her. Tell me more about it.” Donny said. I told her to keep fetish it down, but she said no way. A college's policy and a nation's laws were at the same level in the depths of a person. “Mr. and Mrs. Greene, your three suites are ready. As I turned the words amateur over, something clicked. “Why did you save me?” She reality finally asked. “This is Marcella, Doctor Mueller,” she said softly.