thrusting forward at the same time, his balls hitting her chin with a slap. All the while Florence only focused on making it more pleasurable for him, constricting her throat around his cock on each thrust almost like she was gagging.
It was soon too much for him and with a shuddering moan he spilled his seed down her throat, holding her in place as she was pumped full of the sticky white substance.
He practically fell out of her as he slumped back down into his chair. "That was... Wow," was all he managed to say.
Florence scooped up and swallowed what little semen hadn't already gone down her throat. "I made certain I would be able to service your needs Monsieur Brad. Would you like to pound my anus next?" Bending over the desk, she flipped up her skirt and dropped her panties to show him her lower holes. "I know you 'ave not found anyone capable of taking you to ze base." To show her readiness, she pulled her cheeks apart to put herself on full display for him.
She didn't need to ask twice! Breathless moment forgotten, Bradley leapt from his chair and put his cock up to her pucker and drove in with one push! It was ridiculous! No woman had been able to take him in her ass like this! Reaching around he could feel the bump as her body was rearranged to fit his massive shaft. If he were to go this rough or this deeply into even Lyanna or Lora he would probably send them straight to the auto-doc. He would never give up real women, Florence could try but he doubted she would ever be able to match the real thing. But she certainly had charms of her own!
"Monsieur Brad! I am so glad I can service you like zis! I will do all I can to service your needs!"
"Call me Bradley."
"Ah! Oui! Zank you, Bradley!"
-(-)-
Once more, years passed.
Arya took to her training like a fish to water. More than that, having experienced exactly how not a pushover her aunt was first hand, Lyanna ended up participating in more and more of the girl's training. The young Stark was clearly not fit for most of the traditional knightly armaments due to her smaller stature. Spears would be robbed of their advantages, the classic broadsword a little too large for her frame, shields generally too large also. Instead they ended up equipping her with short blades and shields ranging from bucklers to the Ironborn round shields. While she might grow into using larger weapons, stranger things had happened and Bradley was living proof, it was better to start her on weapons she could feel comfortable with rather than ones that would be unwieldy at the outset.
Of course she was overjoyed at moving to a place where she could become the warrior she always wanted to be. But she also had to make peace with other... adjustments to her world view. Like when she went to Bradley's chancery to drag him to the training yard only to find him ravaging Asha's backdoor to the Ironborn's inexplicable delight. Or the time she went down to the pantry to get a snack and found Lyanna fingering Lora while drinking from her obscenely large breasts. Or the time–
… Let's just say there are a lot of things she walked in on that she rather wished she hadn't. It had been a distressing conversation for her when her aunt and uncle sat her down to talk about it. But she took the lesson to heart, if she heard moans and lewd squelching, just turn around and walk away. And that's absolutely what she did... Most of the time. She could understand why Jocelyn had been uncomfortable with such things, it usually involved her father, after all. But for a growing girl not quite as closely related it was something that certainly piqued her curiosity on occasion.
Though... There was one situation she decided to watch that she probably shouldn't have as she quietly followed the queen through the halls, watching through a crack in the door as the haughty Lannister entered her aunt and uncle's chambers without knocking.
"Were you waiting for me?" the queen asked, shrugging her robe off of her shoulders to hang on her upper arms.
"You're the one thing I look forward to on these visits," Bradley answered as he rose from his chair.
"I never doubted that for a moment," she purred, her robe dropping to the floor as he approached her, her undeniably beautiful body proudly displayed for him. And unknowingly for Arya.
The girl stifled a gasp! Even the queen?! As her uncle guided King Robert's wife to his bed and laid her atop it, Arya almost squealed when something tapped her on the shoulder!
Looking behind her, she saw her Auntie Lyanna with a finger up to her softly smiling lips, her other hand held out for Arya to take. Blushing furiously at being caught peeping, the girl took the hand and allowed herself to be led away for what would certainly be another awkward conversation.
Meanwhile Bradley laid his very occasional lover down on his own marriage bed. He knew Cersei always got a little thrill out of that. Pulling her down so that her legs hung over the edge he once again had to marvel at her beauty. The queen certainly liked to call herself the most beautiful woman in the seven kingdoms. He had a hard time reconciling his love for his wife and the fact that yes, Cersei was probably entirely correct about that. She had been remarkably beautiful when he had first fucked her. But like all of the women who bore his children, getting bred by him agreed with her. Breasts that had begun to sag suddenly regained their perkiness even with the rigours of a second and more recently third pregnancy. The few imperfections of her sun-kissed skin had cleared up. Her body soft from inactivity was enhanced with a layer of firm and toned muscle beneath. He couldn't deny, Cersei Lannister possessed the body of a goddess made flesh.
And even better, "I see you did as I asked," Bradley noted as he sank down to his knees, one hand trailing over her thigh, the other toying with a neatly trimmed tuft of blonde hair at the apex of her pussy.
"It seemed an amusing diversion," she sighed, pretending she did it for herself and not because he had requested it. "Obviously you approve."
"It's beautiful," he praised, fingers running along her already moist lower lips, up the left, not quite touching her button, down the right. Round again, and again, on the fourth time lightly grazing her clit.
"You're teasing me," she accused but didn't tell him to stop.
He hummed in agreement, toying with her folds for a little while longer. Suddenly, he hooked his arms under her thighs and pulled her towards him, diving down to replace his finger with a quivering tongue!
"Oh!" she gasped, "That, that feels quite... Pleasant," she moaned out, doing her best to not reveal how truly good his wriggling tongue felt against her nether lips. But any attempt at playing coy ended when his own lips closed around her button as he sucked while flicking it with his tongue. "Ahh!"
And that was the signal for him to stop playing around.
Cersei's body writhed for a full quarter hour as Bradley feasted on her cunt, tasting every inch of it he could reach and sucking down her juices as she squirted them onto his waiting tongue. "Hah... Hah... I suppose I can keep grooming myself this way if it allows moments like this." Even as intense as it was, even as she had gripped at his head to force him deeper, Cersei considered it a relaxing experience compared to the brute ravishing her like she was used to. It was a pleasant change of pace.
But... It wasn't what she craved. It wasn't the reason she had come to look forward to these visits, as baffling a possibility as that might have seemed a decade ago. And as he rose from his knees, as he titanic cock appeared between her legs and was lain atop her mound, she couldn't hide her excited, eager smile.
Judging by the smug look on his face, maybe she should have tried harder. "Tell me what you want, Cersei," he demanded as his cock slid agonisingly slowly across her pussy lips.
"Just get it over with already," she said, trying to put on a strong front that was in reality as fragile as glass.
"Hmmm, I don't know, I could always go and find Lyanna. I'm sure she'd be happy to take care of this for me." Putting action to his words, he stood fully, his hardness pulling away from her.
It galled her that that was all it took to break her. "Fine!" she snapped, "I want it! Just give it to me!"
"What do you want, Cersei?"
"I want you to fuck me! I want you to use your beastly cock to pound me into your wife's bed! I want you to ravish me like the hulking brute you a–" No warning, no more teasing, right in the middle of her frustrated rant Bradley drove himself home into her welcoming cunt with a squelch. "Ahhhh!" she squealed, her back arching as her overeager quim clamped down on its invader in an intense climax. Bradley was merciless as he took her legs and folded them up to her chest, slamming into her gushing cunt with wild abandon.
"Ha! Ha! YES! Yes! Needed this! Needed this!" she squealed. Just as she demanded he pounded her into the mattress with the kind of fury she had longed for! Ever since she had beared his child he no longer treated her like glass. Instead he rutted her like she was his woman to be fucked, like a thing to slate his lusts on and Seven help her this was what she craved.
Suddenly, his arms hooked under her legs reached under her back, lifting her up and carrying her to the wall. She let out a gasp as she slammed into it and he got right back to plugging her cunt as hard and fast as he could, even deeper now that she was trapped between him and the wall. Her hands futilely clawed at his back hoping to find some kind of purchase but quickly gave up, relenting to the waves of pleasure crashing against her mind. She felt an odd sort of pride as she felt his seed swelling inside her belly before unconsciousness took her.
The quiet alarm she felt as his lips captured hers was likewise washed away...
… It was only moments later that she awoke. She could tell. She could feel his seed dribbling out of her gaping pussy. Every time. It took at least a week for her body to fully recover from the treatment Bradley gave her, but even so she always considered it to be worth it.
Still... "You shouldn't have kissed me."
"No?" he asked, having returned to his chair with a goblet of wine. "I'm fairly sure of all the things for Robert to be mad about, kissing you would be pretty low on the list."
"Not because of–"
She stopped speaking far too late. Bradley regarded her, looking a little sad all of a sudden. "I see. No, it's not surprising. If you're unhappy with Robert it would be foolish to think I'm the only arms you find comfort in. Well, I suppose you don't come to me for 'comfort' in the first place. I guess I overstepped my bounds."
She sniffed. "Yes, you did," she rebuked him though there was little heat in it.
"I see. Then I'm sorry. But," he took a sip of wine, "If I could ask one thing? Are you angry because I kissed you? Or are you angry because you think this other man will be angry that I kissed you?"
…
"Goodnight, Bradley," she said, not answering his question as she quickly redressed in her robe and sashayed toward the door on unsteady legs.
"You'll come by tomorrow night," he said as she left. It wasn't a request. Nor a question. It needed no response.
Both knew it was the truth.
-(-)-
"A letter for you, Lord Bradley. With the seal of House Arryn."
House Arryn? That was strange. Jon basically never wrote to him, too busy managing the whole of Westeros to deal with little old him. And Lysa definitely wouldn't send him anything. The only letters he expected to receive from Hosue Arryn would be reminders about tax season that came around every damn year, as though anyone could forget.
Sighing, he took the letter, ripped the wax seal and began to read.
Lord Ser Bradley Plaskett, Lord of the Northern Peaks
With my deepest regrets it is my duty to inform you that Lord Ser Jon Arryn, Defender of the Vale, Lord of the Eyrie and Warden of the East has tragically succumbed to illness and passed into the waiting arms of the Seven.