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Even so, I recalled little of it, enraptured as I was by my beautiful bride. The giant let go, and my heart swelled… XXII Connubial Nuptials I would take her home to Lakeview Manor, the grand home I had built for us in Falkreath. Rayya, my gruff countrywoman housecarl, was already there as steward, but my children remained in Solitude for the nonce; I would send for them later. For a few days, we would have the manor to ourselves. Yet, the necessity of travel by coach meant that our first night need be spent on the road, as guests of Borgakh in the Orsimer stronghold of Largashbur. The orc woman had used her skills and the treasures acquired whilst travelling with me – not to mention the dowry I paid on her behalf – to earn a place with another clan, as the respected first wife of their new chief, Gularzob. She would, I believed, be a steadying influence on him, who yet protested his unworthiness to succeed the cowardly Yamarz, whom I had slain after he betrayed an alliance we had formed to lift a curse from his tribe. Before we could retire, however, the tribe would treat us to their version of a matrimonial fête, celebrating Vilja’s and my nuptials as asian well as those of Borgakh and Gularzob. I was cumshot obliged to prove myself repeatedly in wrestling matches and mock combat, as well as drinking and boasting contests (though I decline to confess my prowess – or lack thereof – in either). Vilja joined in as well. Although she began the night shyly performing on her lute and singing, she soon progressed to challenging me to arm wrestle – having often bragged about her ability versus her brothers. Losing that, she professed herself thirsty, so I brought her another flagon of Blackbriar mead. Whilst I was not counting, I estimated her to have consumed at least two of the heady brews already. “Oh, thank you.” She drained half of it in one swig, wiped her mouth with the back of one hand ere she downed Big Tits the remainder. “I’ll tell you what.” Oh no. I knew what was coming. “Why don’t I show you what we do in Solstheim? It will be fun – come on!” Jumping up on a table, she began to dance, writhing as the local bard began a tune and the crowd stomped and clapped, keeping time. “Awww… isn’t this fun?” she beamed. I gazed at her, no longer even slightly embarrassed by her behaviour; I felt only love and admiration, enow to Shout it at her, project it as through will. “Bad little whores get punished!” She growled in my ear, the threat in her voice like a lover’s whisper to me, and me, the masochistic whore I could not deny, I stared at her from the tops of my subservient eyes, and begged her to punish me. She grabbed the bedsheets, crammed them between my teeth, and railed into me with all she had left, her body glistening with sweat, her face a manic portrait of bulging eyes, snarling lips, and strands of platinum hair hanging over it all. Then I am going to give that wonderful penis of yours a workout you will never forget.” She slowly ran her fingers across her flesh in a seductive manner as she looked me cumshot in my eyes. “So far he is about the same,” Sarah lied, wanting him to take up the challenge.
“I love a challenge. Jon Big Tits asked asian if they had any more bondage equipment that we could look at but the woman said that she was sorry, but all their other items were only sold by mail order. And weight benches in a row in front of the mirrors. "Every time I say your name, she gets all nervous like a schoolgirl." “It is too late,” he croaked. What is it that Cory wouldn’t or couldn’t discuss with ME? Please!" He quickly put the towel back on the rack and exited the bathroom, closing the door behind him.