SWEET SOUNDS OF PLEASURE filled the banquet chamber, echoing out in varying tones from mouths open in abandon. The seven dancing girls were lost in furious exertion with the three men. They took the men in their mouths, inside them, and under them. Girl after girl mounted the men, riding out their pleasure. Since the girls were of greater number than the men, two girls each went to a man.
Marsil watched in wonder at the beautiful display of passion going on around him. Everywhere he turned, people were fucking. In a corner, it was a man between a Lady's legs. She fisted the man's hair as she rode hard on his face. Marsil noted the music still went on, high and shrilly, in a pounding tune that mirrored all the sex.
In another corner, it was some Lord pumping his shaft into a woman's open mouth. Her eyes were blurry from his movements but the way she gripped the man's bare ass told Marsil that the tears in her eyes were not from pain. The man's muscles were slick and his face was contorted in pleasure.
The king sat on his banquette, watching the men and women fuck themselves to oblivion. His eyes were fiery blue with arousal. The arousal from watching the men groan and the women scream. The Lords and Ladies were unveiled down to utter nakedness but they couldn't care less. They were each locked in their own world of desire.
Marsil couldn't even imagine what the Graces would say if they found out such hidden things went on in the kingdom. In the dark chambers of the Ivory castle. The friars would be furious, calling it a 'demonic sickness'. That was why Arlon ensured his most trusted guards always manned the doors.
Marsil couldn't help but wonder how many of these occasions his father had entertained. The Lords and their wives were pretty comfortable getting naked amongst each other. It could be concluded that such 'banquet' had happened before.
Marsil moved away from the dark corner where he watched the orgy. He had spotted his lady friend, Yvenne some moments ago but then the people started fucking and he had lost track of her. He noticed she wasn't in the room so he decided to search for her.
As he moved across the room, he spotted Arlon with his mouth open in heavy breathing. It was when he looked down that he spotted the reason for his pants. Marsil was naturally pale but at the sight, he went red in the face. Luckily, his silver mask hid the color.
Arlon had his shaft in his hand. His closed fist moved over the engorged cock repeatedly. It was like he was fucking his hand. Marsil turned redder and quickly looked away. His father was so lost in his own pleasure, he didn't notice Marsil walk away.
Arlon had his eyes on the dancing girls.
His blue eyes; darkened now in passion, was on a particular girl with a full bosom. She squatted over one of the men. The man gripped her hips as he pounded upwards into her. Her back was arched and her tits bounced with every single one of the man's upward thrusts. Her dark hair clung to her skin slick with sweat, and she was screaming, urging the man under her with panted words.
It was this sight of the girl and her bobbing tits that had the king pumping harder into his hands.
Marsil quickly hurried across the room. The men and women barely glanced up from their partners at his haste. They were so lost in themselves. Somehow the fact that others were also fucking around them made the whole affair hotter.
Marsil walked forward to an adjoining chamber. He was a few steps in when he spotted a flight of stairs leading up to some hallway. It was the only other passage in sight so he took it. He ascended the stairs, clearing into a dark corridor.
A few doors lined the passageway and he discovered it was quieter than the moanings going on down below. It was as he moved past the doors that he heard stretched sounds coming from a door beyond. He walked towards it, his feet silent on the floors. The door was closed but the sounds still filtered out. They were high, muffled, and unmistakably moans.
Marsil noticed the sounds were all feminine. There was no deep groans of a male piercing from time to time, unlike the orgy downstairs.
Marsil wondered why he only heard women's voices.
He pushed in the door, slowly, making sure it didn't creak as it glided open. Once it was slightly ajar, he slid in. He closed it once more and only stopped pushing when he heard the soft click of the latch. He turned around, and immediately froze.
Marsil blinked many times to assure himself that the sight before him was real. The tangling bodies showed that it was. Marsil remained still and just continued staring. There before him was Yvenne, and the Queen.
They were joined together skin to skin, pressed tight as they moved over each other. He had expected Yvenne to be off somewhere with her husband, but certainly not the Queen. Her husband was his father, Arlon, and the man was just few steps away...
Yet, in all his life, Marsil had never encountered such passionate intimacy.
It was between two women but it made him harder than steel. The women's drive spoke of unbridled lust as their bodies slid together in harmony. He was much aware of the bulge risen between his legs.
Without really thinking much of it, he reached down and pulled at the fly of his pants. His cock sprang free and he was almost shocked at his size. He had never really had a chance to explore his own body as he had always being chained.
Fucking Old man Geralt! he cursed inwardly.
He slowly lifted his right hand to his groin, then cupped it over himself as he'd seen his father do. The next actions were instinctual and he flowed with it.
Marsil lifted his eyes back to the bed and saw that Yvenne had moved above the Queen. She was facing away from him and the Queen was under her, so none of them could see him by the door. He heard Yvenne's gasp as she spread her legs... Directly over the Queen's face.
Lorraine... That was her name, he mused. He'd heard Arlon call her once.
The woman dragged her down on her lips and Marsil had to stifle his own groan. He watched with excited eyes as Yvenne began to ride her tongue.
"...yes, suck that pussy!" he heard Yvenne rasp and his cock jerked in his fist.
Lorraine's palm lifted, then a sharp sound landed. Marsil squinted from his position. He nearly groaned out loud when he realized what had happened. Lorraine had smacked Yvenne, on the ass. He watched Yvenne begin to shudder.
Her legs clamped tight around Lorraine's head as the woman smacked her more. Yvenne moaned and fisted the bedding. Her back arched in ecstasy and her black waves brushed her back as she convulsed over Lorraine's face.
Marsil stood by the door, struggling to keep back his groans as he pumped faster on his cock.
After a while, Yvenne lifted off Lorraine. She leaned down and kissed her on the mouth. Marsil noticed she lingered as she swirled her tongue over her taste spread out on the queen's lips. She then moved lower, licking over Lorraine's skin. The cream swell of her tits. Her swollen nipples. The taut skin of her belly.
Lorraine lifted off the bed more than once in pleasure and Yvenne pushed her back down as she continued a slow path downwards. When her face moved between Lorraine's legs, Marsil couldn't help it and groaned by the door.
Everything changed in an instant—but certainly not in the way he'd expected.
The Queen's eyes flew open. Yvenne lifted off her and the two women pinned him with their eyes. One brown, one green.
"Rebelle, who is that?" Lorraine asked.
"Come out from the shadows so we can see you more." It was Yvenne's voice. However, Marsil wondered why the queen had called her Rebelle.
He took a step forward. Then another. The lights in the room were soft but still flickered warmly on his body. It lighted over his black tunic and his silver mask gleamed in the light. The women's eyes lowered and it was then he looked down.
Marsil nearly fainted.
He was still holding his cock in his hand, right in front of Lorraine. The Queen. He wondered if Arlon would ever forgive him. Lorraine was like his mother in a way. This only made him turn bigger, right in front of the women. He wasn't sure but he glimpsed a little light in their eyes.
A few moments of awkward silence passed, then Lorraine turned to Yvenne.
"Isn't that the champion, Silverheel?"
"Yes," Yvenne smiled with her eyes on him. He could tell from her coy features that she knew exactly who he was under the mask. He knew who she was too. He knew she wasn't 'Rebelle' as the queen called her. They both knew each other's secrets.
"Should we let him watch?" Lorraine asked, her eyes on Yvenne. "He seems to like watching us." At this her eyes moved away from Yvenne to the impressive rise of his erection.
Yvenne turned to Lorraine and Marsil saw her answer in her lit eyes before she said a single word.
"He can watch," she said with a sly smile. Her lips claimed Lorraine as she pushed her down on the bed. She lifted her thighs and settled low on the bed. Then her lips descended and soon, the room was on fire again.
Marsil found himself moving closer. He edged to the front of the bed where he got a better view of Yvenne as she sank her tongue into Lorraine. The woman gripped her by the hair, holding her in place as she slowly began an upward ride on her mouth.
Marsil was even more shocked when he grew bigger. He stood pumping his fist over his cock before the women. Lorraine lay with her back arched on the bed. Yvenne was face-deep between her spread thighs.
It was then, as they were each lost in their pleasure that Marsil understood the orgy downstairs. He was so lost in pleasure he didn't care that he was rubbing himself in front of the Queen, or that both women could easily be his mothers. It was just them, in the world they each created. The world of desire, where everything was gray, not black and white.
Lorraine began to spasm on Yvenne's tongue.
"Oh fuck, Rebelle!" she rasped, holding her tight to her.
She bucked up from the bed and Yvenne kneaded her breasts hard. Lorraine lost it and shuddered, coming apart under her tongue. Her pleasure washed over her like the stokes of an inferno. Her eyes shut tight with the intensity of it and Yvenne continued eating her out, holding her down as wave after wave racked her svelte figure.
Marsil stood with hooded eyes above them. His pale eyes were hollowed in the mask and his cock was a giant wonder in his pumping fist. At the sight of Lorraine bucking into Yvenne's face, he lost it also. For the first time in his life, he lost control over his own body and his seed rushed out from him.
He pumped his fist harder until he thought he might just faint on his feet. After a few blissful seconds trying to catch his breath, he opened his eyes.
Both women lay on their backs staring up at him. Lorraine the queen, with green eyes and a satisfied smile. Yvenne her lover, with brown depths that were too smoky and deep. The different shades of their skin contrasted beautifully. Lorraine's; white as milk. Yvenne's; tan as the sands. Across their bodies was his seed. Lorraine followed his eyes.
"It's alright, Silverheel. We won't tell if you won't."
At her words, Yvenne giggled by her side. Marsil gave a slight nod and hurried out of the room before the conversation could get more awkward. He silently shut the door, then looked down. Satisfied his shaft was hidden away in his pants, he looked back up. The hallway was still dark and as quiet as it was when he first walked it.
Never in a thousand moons had he expected to find Yvenne with the Queen, moreso, participate in their affair. But such was the nature of passion. It was dynamic and uncontrollable.
Marsil smiled then and started back down the hallway, much more revived than when he'd come up earlier.