PocketJump by Juliet Cardin

Chapter One
     
    “Do you like that m’lord?” Down on my knees, I flicked out
my tongue to lick the knight’s cock.
    “Aye.” His face tensed and I detected a slight quiver in his
thighs.
    I swirled my tongue around his tip and then sucked him deep
into my throat, only to move my head back and gaze up at him innocently. “Are
you certain?”
    “Quite.” A droplet of sweat rolled down his cheek and then
to his neck, becoming lost beneath his mail-covered gambeson.
    It was a hot summer day. August fifteenth to be exact, year
of our Lord 1330, 4:10 in the afternoon. The knight I pleasured was the
champion of the day’s tournament.
    I’d watched the last few minutes of the joust in
anticipation. This knight unhorsed his opponent on the first pass, winning a
bag of gold and my adoration in record time. As soon as I’d seen him remove his
helm, I’d wanted him. I’d followed him to his tent and made my intentions
clear. Sneeringly he told me to seek my coin elsewhere. He assumed by my
peasant gown I was lowborn and not worth his time. If he only knew who I really
was, he’d be more than a little shocked.
    Though tempted to slap his arrogant face, once I dropped my
simple gown and stood naked before him, he’d accepted my invitation. Ordering
his fidgeting squire outside, he’d licked his lips and reached for my tits.
    His cock was huge and despite wanting to tease him
mercilessly, I was running low on time, plus, I wanted him inside me—now. He
wore several layers of intricate clothing, which I didn’t want to remove, so I
turned around and put my head low to the ground. “Take me then, m’lord.”
    I could hear him drop down and maneuver himself behind me.
His finger slipped into my pussy, the other hand reaching to fondle my breast.
He squeezed my nipple hard while slipping another finger inside me. Soon a
third finger joined the others. He let go of my breast and plunged a finger
into my ass. Then another.
    “Oh!” I gasped in delight. I wanted him to conquer me
thoroughly, as he had his opponent on the field.
    Moments later, he removed his fingers and I felt the head of
his cock push against my pussy. In one great thrust he impaled me. There was no
playing around with this one. He got about his business quickly, as I’d seen
him do on the field. It appeared he was no different in his lovemaking.
    “Take that, wench.” He began to plunge with deep, hard
strokes.
    “Yes, m’lord,” I gasped in delight.
    His strong hands gripped my waist while he pumped into me. I
wanted him to take my ass as well, but I’d already spent too much time waiting
to get him alone.
    He lengthened his strokes, and despite my anxiousness to
hurry, my body relished the thorough fucking. What a pleasure it was to be with
such a man. A mighty warrior, dangerous and formidable, the ultimate lover.
Long had I been subjected to tender loving, soft kisses and gentle caresses.
I’d had enough of that. What I wanted, no, needed, was a man who would take me
hard. A man who knew I would not break.
    Sounds of the shuffling feet and anxious sighs of the squire
just beyond the tent flap made their way to my ears, reminding me that time was
of the essence. Even now others knights and squires, not to mention camp
harlots, were milling about the grounds preparing for the evening meal. I did
not belong here, in this place. Quickly I must take my pleasure or risk exposure.
    Teasingly the knight plunged deep and then slowly withdrew,
bringing my thoughts back to this moment, making me bite my lip in
anticipation. This here, this primal, lusty act, was my goal.
    “Yes, wench,” he ground out, his fingers tightening their
grip. I’d be bruised afterward, but I didn’t care. I wanted his roughness—after
all, I had chosen him for his strength. I would savor being sore and aching,
well knowing I had been fucked.
    “Please, m’lord. Hurry,” I begged him. Unless he wished to
witness something he was ill-equipped to handle.
    “Do not order