King of the Castle we want a party in a castle
- 2 years ago
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The Castle free porn video
Giada looked through the arched east window of Wyntwerth Castle’s keep. It’s moments like this when she felt the weight of the world on her shoulders. According to her scouts, the Doragons were only days away from reaching the kingdom. Her attempts at a last resolution through diplomacy had failed miserably. She even began to think her own people had betrayed her and sabotaged the mission. Many people could profit from her demise both outside and within the court. There were times when she deeply wished her brother hadn’t been killed at Rigald and still wore the crown himself. This was thrust upon her and now her subjects looked to her pleadingly.
She sat on the edge of the window, placed her hands on her lap and felt the tears well up inside. “Willyom, what do I do? Why did you have to die?” She implored. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. She stood up, wiped away her tears with her sleeve and pressed her elaborately embroidered skirt flat.
Clearing her throat, “Yes?”
She heard her private secretary Marchel speak. “Ma’am, a man to see you. He’s, uh, well,…”
Impatiently Giada asks, “Well, what?” As she threw her head back in frustration.
“Well, he says he’s a, well, enchanter of some note.” He hears nothing and continues. “Perhaps you recall our discussion of exhausting all other avenues…?
Giada, more impatiently,“Yes, yes. Does he have a name?”
“Uh, your Grace, Robyrth of the Seventh Chime.”
Completely losing her composure, Giada storms to the door, unlocks the bolt and throws it open.
Marchel was always her most trusted advisor but was becoming a bit more confused as time wore on. He was a sturdy, but elderly man with grey hair and full beard. He was standing with a much smaller and bent over individual. The stranger pulled back his hood and exposed a face covered in scars. One eye was missing but the other one was so piercingly blue, she jumped back, startled. But she found something compelling about this odd creature.
Marchel stumbles, “Perhaps I should…”
Giada cuts him off. “That will be all, Marchel.”
“Ma’am?”
“And close the door behind you.”
Marchel bowed deeply and moved backward while pulling the heavy door shut.
She was at a loss at how she knew she could trust this small wisp of a man. She felt absolutely no fear towards him and no feeling of deceit.
In a very thick accent, perhaps from the Midlands, he spoke. “Your Grace. I am aware of the situation and the fate of your kingdom hangs in the balance.”
She felt the impatience rise again in her heart but managed to steady herself.
“That is an understatement, kind sir.”
He walked to a small table, opened his heavy woolen coat, reached in and pulled out a small bag, like one for tobacco. Giada stood back in puzzlement and intrigue.
He turned and looked at her directly, “Burn this tonight, before you retire. You have been the victim of treason and a grave evil. By morning, your kingdom will be at peace and the people at court that would do you harm will have been, let’s say, diminished in their abilities.
The man turned to leave, “Wait!” Giada blurted.
He stops but does not face her.
“What sorcery is this?
Nothing more, your Grace, than your last hope.”
The colour drained from her face and she felt completely defeated, “You are excused.”
He nodded and left the room.
Giada sat on the edge of her bed, feeling utterly useless.
Another knock at the door. “Marchel, please,” Giada barely whispers.
The door opens, Marchel strides in while two of her handmaidens rush past him.
“Are you alright, your Grace?”
Distracted Giada answers, “Yes. Quite.”
“What business did he have with you?” Giada glances at the table and small satchel.
“Nothing.” She places her face in her hands and mumbles between them, “Something that’s even less than a prayer.”
They left while closing the door behind them. Giada is overwhelmed by her sense of doom.
She refuses supper that night. She stares at the wine in the crystal decanter on her nightstand. The setting sun created a red band of light against one wall. She knew what she had resting in a spoon beside her glass. She will not give them the pleasure of arresting her and locking her in the Tower. Or worse. They would certainly ravish her. Her beauty was legendary.
The wind began to pick up in the courtyard. She strolled to the small table and picked up the tiny bag. There was very little weight to it. It was very dirty. She opened the drawstring and poured the contents onto a china plate left from lunch. Suddenly she heard in the distance, a disembodied woman’s voice.
“Giada!”
Her skin crawls and she draws back in fear. But the powder transfixes her. She picks up a lit candle and slowly lowers the flame to the powder. She only gets within a few inches when the powder ignites. The room quickly fills with smoke and she’s overcome. Breathing becomes difficult if not impossible. She grasps her throat but to no avail. She stumbles backwards, but does not strike the floor. She falls lightly as if a feather. Sleep overtakes her and she enters a dreamworld.
She becomes aware that she is not alone. Her eyelids are like stone but she struggles to open them. The air is filled with the sweetest perfume. Cherry blossom, she thinks. When her eyes finally adjust, she sees a dark, lithe, robed figure in the corner. The phantom pulls back her hood and reveals a stunning woman. Raven-haired and eyes like the fires of Helge. Her lips were as rubies and her skin of porcelain. There was a large emerald hanging from a gold chain around her neck. She smiles but it’s not one of invitation. Indeed it could be perceived as evil.
Giada fumbles to speak. “Who are you? Why are you here?”
“I am Laysa of Doragon. For years you were forbidden to speak to me.”
Giada is confused. “So, I was betrayed?”
“Yes, but worse than that. We were to rule together for eternity.”
Giada felt drunk and powerless. “How did you…? What are you going to…?”.
Laysa moved forward, untied her robe and let it fall to the floor exposing the naked body of a goddess. Her firm supple breasts, heaved with each breath. Her taught stomach flexed with each word. She had the legs of one of the dancers at court.
“I am here for you, Giada of Wyntwerth.”
She reached down and took Giada by the hand and led her to her bed.
“I’ve never…” Giada protested.
Laysa put her finger on her lips and cooed, “Shhh, you must place your trust in me.”
Giada collapsed on the bed, her heart pounding so hard she thought it would leap out of her chest.
Laysa laid on top of her. The warmth and softness of her skin on Giada’s was intoxicating. Her smell made her head spin. Nuzzling her neck and kissing her hair Laysa whispered. “It is true what they say. You’re beauty is the finest of all the five kingdoms.” Giada’s mind was moving in ten different directions. She had never known a woman. She had witnessed her handmaids in their sex play but left that to them. Now this mysterious woman had her in her control and she was powerless to stop it.
Laysa brushed her sweet lips against hers. Staring into her eyes. Nay, staring into her soul. She pressed them to Giada’s like a starving beggar and Giada returned her lust. She felt her womanhood drenched in its juices while Laysa ground into her. Laysa’s tongue danced obscenely in her mouth. Their bodies entwined like two horny snakes.
Slowly, Laysa began kissing Giada’s neck and shoulders. Moving down to her full breasts, Laysa took a nipple into her lips then gently tugged at it with her teeth. Giada gasped. Laysa chewed gently but occasionally bit down harder. Giada would buck at the pain but yearned for more. Laysa’s eyes laughed at her reaction. She opened her mouth and took as much of Giada’s left one as she could while firmly squeezing the other with her right hand. Giada moaned in delight which increased Laysa’s attention to her. Giada felt her sweet, fuckhole ache as it soon needed a release.
Laysa then started kissing down Giada’s ripe, young body while she squirmed like a schoolgirl. When she finally got to the heavenly gate, Laysa rubbed her nose on Giada’s rock hard clit. She knew it would burst any second. Laysa looked up and gave her that evil gaze.
“You have to do some work to do too, Sweetheart.”
In less than a second, Laysa was up on her knees with her honeyhole hovering over her face.
Giada, horrified. “I can’t…”
Laysa moved back, kissed her full on the mouth and replied.
“You can and you will.”
Moving over her head again she slowly lowered herself. Laysa grabbed both of Giada’s arms and placed them on each of her breasts. They were as soft as a dove, Giada thought to herself. Giada reached up with her tongue and darted it into Laysa’s waiting pussy. The taste surprised her. Honey and saffron. Sweeter than wine. Laysa hissed in pleasure. Giada quickly figured out what she needed to do and drank in Laysa’s sweet hole as well as the honey-like gift that was streaming into her mouth. Laysa fucked Giada’s mouth like a wild b**st and began jerking and screaming in delight. Giada knew someone could hear but didn’t care.
Laysa collapsed on top of her, then in one show of immense strength, flipped Giada over. She kneaded and lightly kissed Giada’s full, round ass cheeks. “Omigod! That is amazing,” Giada thought.
Laysa then slowly pulled apart Giada’s golden globes and in one movement dove her tongue into the sweet, awaiting rosebud. Giada was stunned and froze. Laysa gave her a heavy slap on one buttock and said, “Relax, I know what I’m doing, my sweet c***d.” Giada remained tense but found herself surrendering to Laysa’s attentions. It felt like every fibre of her being was on fire. She had never experienced pleasure like this. And never from a man. She pulsed underneath Laysa’s tongue with wave after wave of orgiastic delight wracking her.
In a move that can only be described as acrobatic, Laysa moved Giada on her side then managed to press her pussy against Giada’s.
“No, no, no, sweetie” Giada implored.
Laysa ignored her plea and began grinding her soaken womanhood into Giada’s. Giada was convinced she could not survive this. The pleasure was so intense her body couldn’t possibly be hers. The crescendo was starting to build. She felt her orgasm come from a place not of her own making. She began to shake violently, all the while transfixed by Laysa’s incredible eyes. It was like she was pouring the d**g of ecstasy into her and she had no means to stop it. Her body thrashed side to side in orgasm. A tidal wave roaring through her body, Laysa’s soul merging into hers, they were one forever, never to disengage, hearts as one. She had never felt passion like this before.
In one last pulse she screamed. “Laysa! I love you!”
Laysa moved forward, kissed her deeply on the mouth and said, &ldquo
I know!”
Then mysteriously vanished.
Giada awoke the next morning but felt glued to the bed. Did what happen, really happen?
There was a pounding in the door.
Giada gave her head a bit of a shake and raised herself up on her elbows.
“Yes?”
Marchel exclaimed from behind the door, “Madame, a miracle. Our sources say the army marching on Wyntwerth has been withdrawn. A delegation has been dispatched from Doragon to negotiate a new treaty!”
Giada smiled and fell back on the bed.
“Your Grace?”
“Yes, yes. Wonderful news. We’ll discuss at breakfast, within the hour.”
She was thinking, “Just a coincidence. My diplomats must have won the day. That’s it.”
She noticed something caught under the pillow. Reaching underneath, she felt what it was and froze.
A large emerald on a gold chain.
She sat on the edge of the window, placed her hands on her lap and felt the tears well up inside. “Willyom, what do I do? Why did you have to die?” She implored. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. She stood up, wiped away her tears with her sleeve and pressed her elaborately embroidered skirt flat.
Clearing her throat, “Yes?”
She heard her private secretary Marchel speak. “Ma’am, a man to see you. He’s, uh, well,…”
Impatiently Giada asks, “Well, what?” As she threw her head back in frustration.
“Well, he says he’s a, well, enchanter of some note.” He hears nothing and continues. “Perhaps you recall our discussion of exhausting all other avenues…?
Giada, more impatiently,“Yes, yes. Does he have a name?”
“Uh, your Grace, Robyrth of the Seventh Chime.”
Completely losing her composure, Giada storms to the door, unlocks the bolt and throws it open.
Marchel was always her most trusted advisor but was becoming a bit more confused as time wore on. He was a sturdy, but elderly man with grey hair and full beard. He was standing with a much smaller and bent over individual. The stranger pulled back his hood and exposed a face covered in scars. One eye was missing but the other one was so piercingly blue, she jumped back, startled. But she found something compelling about this odd creature.
Marchel stumbles, “Perhaps I should…”
Giada cuts him off. “That will be all, Marchel.”
“Ma’am?”
“And close the door behind you.”
Marchel bowed deeply and moved backward while pulling the heavy door shut.
She was at a loss at how she knew she could trust this small wisp of a man. She felt absolutely no fear towards him and no feeling of deceit.
In a very thick accent, perhaps from the Midlands, he spoke. “Your Grace. I am aware of the situation and the fate of your kingdom hangs in the balance.”
She felt the impatience rise again in her heart but managed to steady herself.
“That is an understatement, kind sir.”
He walked to a small table, opened his heavy woolen coat, reached in and pulled out a small bag, like one for tobacco. Giada stood back in puzzlement and intrigue.
He turned and looked at her directly, “Burn this tonight, before you retire. You have been the victim of treason and a grave evil. By morning, your kingdom will be at peace and the people at court that would do you harm will have been, let’s say, diminished in their abilities.
The man turned to leave, “Wait!” Giada blurted.
He stops but does not face her.
“What sorcery is this?
Nothing more, your Grace, than your last hope.”
The colour drained from her face and she felt completely defeated, “You are excused.”
He nodded and left the room.
Giada sat on the edge of her bed, feeling utterly useless.
Another knock at the door. “Marchel, please,” Giada barely whispers.
The door opens, Marchel strides in while two of her handmaidens rush past him.
“Are you alright, your Grace?”
Distracted Giada answers, “Yes. Quite.”
“What business did he have with you?” Giada glances at the table and small satchel.
“Nothing.” She places her face in her hands and mumbles between them, “Something that’s even less than a prayer.”
They left while closing the door behind them. Giada is overwhelmed by her sense of doom.
She refuses supper that night. She stares at the wine in the crystal decanter on her nightstand. The setting sun created a red band of light against one wall. She knew what she had resting in a spoon beside her glass. She will not give them the pleasure of arresting her and locking her in the Tower. Or worse. They would certainly ravish her. Her beauty was legendary.
The wind began to pick up in the courtyard. She strolled to the small table and picked up the tiny bag. There was very little weight to it. It was very dirty. She opened the drawstring and poured the contents onto a china plate left from lunch. Suddenly she heard in the distance, a disembodied woman’s voice.
“Giada!”
Her skin crawls and she draws back in fear. But the powder transfixes her. She picks up a lit candle and slowly lowers the flame to the powder. She only gets within a few inches when the powder ignites. The room quickly fills with smoke and she’s overcome. Breathing becomes difficult if not impossible. She grasps her throat but to no avail. She stumbles backwards, but does not strike the floor. She falls lightly as if a feather. Sleep overtakes her and she enters a dreamworld.
She becomes aware that she is not alone. Her eyelids are like stone but she struggles to open them. The air is filled with the sweetest perfume. Cherry blossom, she thinks. When her eyes finally adjust, she sees a dark, lithe, robed figure in the corner. The phantom pulls back her hood and reveals a stunning woman. Raven-haired and eyes like the fires of Helge. Her lips were as rubies and her skin of porcelain. There was a large emerald hanging from a gold chain around her neck. She smiles but it’s not one of invitation. Indeed it could be perceived as evil.
Giada fumbles to speak. “Who are you? Why are you here?”
“I am Laysa of Doragon. For years you were forbidden to speak to me.”
Giada is confused. “So, I was betrayed?”
“Yes, but worse than that. We were to rule together for eternity.”
Giada felt drunk and powerless. “How did you…? What are you going to…?”.
Laysa moved forward, untied her robe and let it fall to the floor exposing the naked body of a goddess. Her firm supple breasts, heaved with each breath. Her taught stomach flexed with each word. She had the legs of one of the dancers at court.
“I am here for you, Giada of Wyntwerth.”
She reached down and took Giada by the hand and led her to her bed.
“I’ve never…” Giada protested.
Laysa put her finger on her lips and cooed, “Shhh, you must place your trust in me.”
Giada collapsed on the bed, her heart pounding so hard she thought it would leap out of her chest.
Laysa laid on top of her. The warmth and softness of her skin on Giada’s was intoxicating. Her smell made her head spin. Nuzzling her neck and kissing her hair Laysa whispered. “It is true what they say. You’re beauty is the finest of all the five kingdoms.” Giada’s mind was moving in ten different directions. She had never known a woman. She had witnessed her handmaids in their sex play but left that to them. Now this mysterious woman had her in her control and she was powerless to stop it.
Laysa brushed her sweet lips against hers. Staring into her eyes. Nay, staring into her soul. She pressed them to Giada’s like a starving beggar and Giada returned her lust. She felt her womanhood drenched in its juices while Laysa ground into her. Laysa’s tongue danced obscenely in her mouth. Their bodies entwined like two horny snakes.
Slowly, Laysa began kissing Giada’s neck and shoulders. Moving down to her full breasts, Laysa took a nipple into her lips then gently tugged at it with her teeth. Giada gasped. Laysa chewed gently but occasionally bit down harder. Giada would buck at the pain but yearned for more. Laysa’s eyes laughed at her reaction. She opened her mouth and took as much of Giada’s left one as she could while firmly squeezing the other with her right hand. Giada moaned in delight which increased Laysa’s attention to her. Giada felt her sweet, fuckhole ache as it soon needed a release.
Laysa then started kissing down Giada’s ripe, young body while she squirmed like a schoolgirl. When she finally got to the heavenly gate, Laysa rubbed her nose on Giada’s rock hard clit. She knew it would burst any second. Laysa looked up and gave her that evil gaze.
“You have to do some work to do too, Sweetheart.”
In less than a second, Laysa was up on her knees with her honeyhole hovering over her face.
Giada, horrified. “I can’t…”
Laysa moved back, kissed her full on the mouth and replied.
“You can and you will.”
Moving over her head again she slowly lowered herself. Laysa grabbed both of Giada’s arms and placed them on each of her breasts. They were as soft as a dove, Giada thought to herself. Giada reached up with her tongue and darted it into Laysa’s waiting pussy. The taste surprised her. Honey and saffron. Sweeter than wine. Laysa hissed in pleasure. Giada quickly figured out what she needed to do and drank in Laysa’s sweet hole as well as the honey-like gift that was streaming into her mouth. Laysa fucked Giada’s mouth like a wild b**st and began jerking and screaming in delight. Giada knew someone could hear but didn’t care.
Laysa collapsed on top of her, then in one show of immense strength, flipped Giada over. She kneaded and lightly kissed Giada’s full, round ass cheeks. “Omigod! That is amazing,” Giada thought.
Laysa then slowly pulled apart Giada’s golden globes and in one movement dove her tongue into the sweet, awaiting rosebud. Giada was stunned and froze. Laysa gave her a heavy slap on one buttock and said, “Relax, I know what I’m doing, my sweet c***d.” Giada remained tense but found herself surrendering to Laysa’s attentions. It felt like every fibre of her being was on fire. She had never experienced pleasure like this. And never from a man. She pulsed underneath Laysa’s tongue with wave after wave of orgiastic delight wracking her.
In a move that can only be described as acrobatic, Laysa moved Giada on her side then managed to press her pussy against Giada’s.
“No, no, no, sweetie” Giada implored.
Laysa ignored her plea and began grinding her soaken womanhood into Giada’s. Giada was convinced she could not survive this. The pleasure was so intense her body couldn’t possibly be hers. The crescendo was starting to build. She felt her orgasm come from a place not of her own making. She began to shake violently, all the while transfixed by Laysa’s incredible eyes. It was like she was pouring the d**g of ecstasy into her and she had no means to stop it. Her body thrashed side to side in orgasm. A tidal wave roaring through her body, Laysa’s soul merging into hers, they were one forever, never to disengage, hearts as one. She had never felt passion like this before.
In one last pulse she screamed. “Laysa! I love you!”
Laysa moved forward, kissed her deeply on the mouth and said, &ldquo
I know!”
Then mysteriously vanished.
Giada awoke the next morning but felt glued to the bed. Did what happen, really happen?
There was a pounding in the door.
Giada gave her head a bit of a shake and raised herself up on her elbows.
“Yes?”
Marchel exclaimed from behind the door, “Madame, a miracle. Our sources say the army marching on Wyntwerth has been withdrawn. A delegation has been dispatched from Doragon to negotiate a new treaty!”
Giada smiled and fell back on the bed.
“Your Grace?”
“Yes, yes. Wonderful news. We’ll discuss at breakfast, within the hour.”
She was thinking, “Just a coincidence. My diplomats must have won the day. That’s it.”
She noticed something caught under the pillow. Reaching underneath, she felt what it was and froze.
A large emerald on a gold chain.
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