Lord Algernon, enraged, was quickly informed of the shameful incident that had unfolded in the duchess's chambers. Without wasting a moment, he hurriedly made his way to the bustling courtyard, where a group of men had gathered, their faces curious and puzzled. Pushing through the crowd, Lord Algernon called out with urgency.
"Listen, all of you!"
Everyone listened.
"We're offering ten extra gold pieces to anyone who can bring a smile back to the duchess's face, to restore her shattered dignity!"
Confusion rippled through the assembled men, their voices became groups of whispers and questioning expressions.
"Wait, that woman has dignity?"
"Yeah, since when?!"
"I'm in for the gold though..."
Felicity was surprised. She adjusted her spectacles and turned to Jack, his pipe held idly before his lips.
"I don't understand, what's going on?"
Jack, exhaling a cloud of fragrant smoke, shrugged his broad shoulders.
"I can't say," he replied. "It seems there has been an... incident. A centaur, they say, has disgraced the honor of the duchess with his premature release, so to speak."
Felicity's eyes widened in realization.
"Wait... are they talking about... Wankokpara?" she gasped, her fingers instinctively covering her mouth.
Jack nodded solemnly.
"Indeed, my dear. It defies belief, but that's the case. No human, let alone a centaur, should be capable of such... expeditious completion."
Mastur grinned as he quietly listened to their conversation.
Lord Algernon's voice bellowed again.
"Is there no one among you bold enough to satisfy her this very moment? Offer her the satisfaction she deserves?"
Silence lingered in the air.
But then, like a sinister specter emerging from the shadows, Mastur raised his hand, a sly grin curling upon his lips.
"Hey, I'd like to have a crack at your wife..."
Mastur said it in the most disrespectful way possible.
Lord Algernon, his gaze steady and calculating, locked eyes with Mastur. "Very well," he nodded, his voice firm. "Come with me."
Felicity immediately stepped forward and seized Mastur's arm.
Her eyes bore into his. "What have you done?" she demanded, her voice a hushed whisper. "Tell me."
A triumphant smirk danced across Mastur's face as he leaned in closer, his words a devious murmur. "All in good time," he teased, relishing in the suspense. "I promise, I'll explain everything once I'm done here."
Without another word, Mastur followed Lord Algernon's brisk stride, their footsteps echoing in perfect unison. Algernon remained silent, his gaze focused ahead. With a quickened pace, the pair weaved through the corridors, their destination growing closer with each passing moment.
"The duchess, she is in a particularly foul mood today," he warned. "You must give it your all."
"Sounds good."
He turned to facec Mastur. "Are you sure you're ready?"
Mastur, surprising Algernon with his quick response, had already discarded his shirt, revealing his chiseled physique.
Confidence radiated from his every pore as he smirked at Algernon.
"When the opportunity arises, one should always be prepared," he replied.
Algernon chuckled, pointing towards the door leading to the duchess's chambers. "Then, my friend, prove yourself."
Mastur dashed through the hallways and into the door.
...
"Hm? What's that noise?" said the duchess.
Meanwhile, Mastur approached Isobel from behind, his strong, naked body pressed tantalizingly against hers.
His aroused crotch bumped against her supple buttocks, the friction sending shivers of pleasure down their spines.
Isobel let out a gasp of delight, her ass molding perfectly to Mastur's crotch as she reveled in the sensations.
Mastur's lips curved into a seductive smile as he whispered in Isobel's ear.
"Do you like that?" he murmured, his husky voice was an absolute turn on for her.
Isobel turned her head slightly, her eyes meeting his gaze, before a small constricted moan escaped her lips.
"I... I love it," she managed to say. "Do more..."
A sharp grin appeared on Mastur's lips as he decided to take things further. Slowly, his hand drifted down her slender abdomen, the light touch causing her to squirm with anticipation. Isobel's body eagerly responded to his every caress, the heat between her thighs growing unbearable.
Her pussy was burning up.
If his fingers were this good, how would they feel in my pussy, she thought.
His fingers ventured lower, carefully tracing the lines of her body until they finally reached the sweaty, thick hairs surrounding her pussy.
Mastur let out a surprised remark. "Wow, it's really hairy down here," he commented, his fingers getting entangled in her lush tresses. I
Isobel's breath hitched, delighting in the attention. "Yes," she admitted. "I get that a lot."
"I see."
"You don't like it...?"
"Like it? I love it... I want the raw you after all..."
"You're quite dirty." The duchess smiled.
"Hm, apparently, not dirty enough."
His fingers brushed against the soft, delicate hair that framed her pussy, tracing their path along the silky strands.
"Let's see if you feel as good inside, as you do outside..."
The duchess raised a brow. "What do yo—" she hooked.
What followed was a passionate moan from her. "Ahnnnnmnn~~"
Slowly, his middle finger glided downward, pausing as it made contact with the wet, trembling clit at the center of her pussy.
"You're more sensitive that I thought..." he told her.
A sharp gasp escaped her lips, her legs quivering with the newfound pleasure.
He gently fiddled with her clitoris.
"Such a sensitive little button," he murmured.
Her moan turned into a low growl as he began to stroke the wet folds of her pussy, using two fingers to tease and tantalize her. Her teeth sank into her lower lip, the sensation becoming overwhelming. The heat between her thighs intensified, her pussy dripping down from her pink inner walls.
"T... That feels so nice~~"
"I can make it feel even better... Just keep that dirty look on your face..."
"Do me more~~ Ahnnnnn~~! Just do me more~~~!!"
In a sudden, bold move, Mastur's two fingers plunged deep into her pussy. Her eyes rolled back, pleasure coursing through every fiber of her being. A guttural moan escaped her lips, releasing a heavy wave of steam from her mouth.
The ahegao face that adorned her features was the epitome of ecstasy.
"S... So... Good..."
He continued to finger her, his fingers sliding in and out with ease, guided by the slickness and tightness of her inner walls. Each thrust only served to heighten her pleasure, driving her to the brink of madness.
The fleshy texture of her pussy gave him insight into just how tight she truly was, despite the numerous experiences she had had.
Again and again, he plunged his two fingers inside her, the rhythm building with each stroke.
Then, in one decisive movement, he thrust them in deep, applying a forceful pressure that pushed one end of her pussy upward.
"Ohhhhhnnn~! Ahnnnnnnn~! Nyessss~~!!"
The duchess leaned back against Mastur's chest, her left hand reaching out to grasp his neck, desperately seeking something to anchor herself to in the midst of her overwhelming pleasure.
Then, with that one powerful motion, Mastur increased the pace.
His two fingers continued to thrust in and out of her pussy with relentless vigor, maintaining a rapid rhythm.
Each time, a small burst of transparent, adhesive liquid would cascade forth. He persisted, his fingers unwavering, while the duchess emitted pleasurable moans.
"Ahnnn~~ ahnnn~~ nyessss~ drive it inside me~~ plunge those strong, big fingers into me~~! more~ more~ more~~!!! ahnnnnnn~~!"
In order to enhance his access, Mastur employed his left hand to grasp her ample left thigh, promptly lifting it slightly to obtain a better view of her pussy. As he adjusted her leg to securely hold it aloft, he withdrew his two fingers from her quivering pussy and brought them to her mouth, smearing her moist, sticky fluids across her face.
"Oh, what's wrong?" Mastur grinned.
"Ahnn~~ I feel so..."
"Shut up, and lick this..." he told her.
At that very moment, she parted her lips, with strands of sticky saliva already adhering to all sides of her open mouth, and her plump, elongated, saliva-coated tongue proceeded to lick his fingers.
She savored the succulent essence on his finger, relishing every delectable note of her own lust building even more. With each lick, her saliva mingled with the intoxicating blend of their combined fluids, creating a mouthful of sheer delight.
Her gaze then ascended to Mastur, who stood behind her, and she beckoned him to kiss her.
"Certainly," Mastur replied, extending his tongue to meet hers in a passionate embrace.
She released all the saliva from her mouth, allowing it to intermingle with his own, as their tongues danced harmoniously. The duchess, overcome with enthusiastic arousal, opened her mouth wide, inviting him to reciprocate the exchange.
Above her, he positioned his mouth and gradually released a sticky stream of warm saliva, which gracefully flowed into her awaiting mouth and gently cascaded down her throat.
"Ohnn yes, so~ so~ dirty~~"
And then, with great gusto, he drew in a deep breath to gather more saliva, before showering her face with a forceful expulsion of saliva.
However, this was all Mastur's plan.
They were falling into his mental trap.
And the pawn for doing that was Wankokpara.
But how?