Carcasonne Ch. 06

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Carcassonne, Chapter Six – A Place Called Home

© Bad Hobbit

Over supper, Rodrigo and Marie looked a little tired – we had heard them at intervals during the day, and the sounds were becoming more amusing every time. Marie had relaxed and was now very vocal when she climaxed – a quality I admire in a woman, as it rarely fails to excite me to my own peak. (The one exception was a rather fat merchant’s wife in Aragon – but that’s another story). I had noticed that Marie’s vocabulary at such times seemed to encompass words that had previously made her blush, and I was impressed.

As we ate, I said that I felt the inn could be made more successful, but we needed to adopt a different approach. If Eleanor would be guided by me, I said I would help her transform the business within a year. She was impressed at my boast, but sceptical. So Rodrigo and I laid out the plan we had hatched on the road back from Marseilles, and set it before Eleanor. She felt some parts were a little unethical, but liked the overall promise.

A week later, members of two rival Carcassonne gangs met in the ‘Coq D’Or’ in the main street. They had not intended to. Each was there to meet a stranger to discuss a business proposition, but when they saw each other, everything else went out of their minds. The place was laid waste, and customers stayed away. Some drifted into Eleanor’s inn and found the décor improved as we’d applied some whitewash, brought in some new furniture and bought Eleanor and Marie new clothes. The food and drink were also better than they had expected – certainly better than at the Coq D’Or, even though the company was a little less boisterous.

I waited a month or so, then paid the owner of the Coq D’Or a visit, and found him a miserable and bitter man. The place had been a goldmine, but now it was clearly little more than a shell with little trade, though the landlord tried to cover this up. After sharing a cup or two of his sour wine with him, I said I had often nurtured a desire to be an innkeeper, but had never found the right place. He immediately cheered, telling me that it was my lucky day, as he was thinking of retiring and would be interested in finding a buyer.

We haggled for a long time over the price, me eventually paying him a little over the odds of what the place was now worth, though much less than he would have got a few months earlier. He felt he’d got a bargain, took my money and all his possessions, (including a few I thought I had bought), and left for Perpignan the next day. Three weeks later, the inn reopened as ‘The Scallop Shell’, aimed very specifically at the pilgrims headed for Santiago de Compostela. As ‘passing trade’, they had no fear of the recent history of the place that the locals seemed so worried about, and within two months we were full most nights.

Eleanor supervised the cooking, the purchase of the wine and beer, the arrangement of the rooms – pretty well everything practical. I, meanwhile, hired more staff, including several pretty girls as maids and serving wenches – much to Eleanor’s disgust. I pointed out to her that they were not for my amusement but to tempt customers in and then to keep them in for food and meat. She seemed unconvinced, but acceded reluctantly to my plan.

We renamed Eleanor’s Inn ‘St. Jacques’, to add to the pilgrim theme, using it first as an overflow from the Scallop Shell, and later as an auberge in its own right for the older and perhaps more discerning pilgrims requiring a place a little less boisterous than the ‘Shell’ was becoming. Soon, both places were full during the season for pilgrimages, and we were looking for a third inn. Our fortunes were improving and we enjoyed our lives together in Carcassonne.

Our ménage was a little strange to say the least. Although most of the time I lay with Eleanor and Rodrigo with Marie, there were times when the spirit of our first encounter returned.

One day, in high summer, we four rode out to the river, taking a picnic. The weather was hot, the wine was good and we were all soon swimming naked together, playing like children in the cool water. Eleanor returned to the bank, stretched out naked on a blanket in the shade, and slept peacefully. Marie, little minx that she is, arose giggling from the shallows, saw me standing there naked and said in a somewhat tipsy manner that she had forgotten what a big cock I had.

I teased her a little, saying that now she was getting fucked by Rodrigo on a regular basis, she was probably too slack for me. She said that Rodrigo was really only interested in her arse, and that her cunt hardly got stretched at all. Her language and the mock pout that she gave me got me hardening in no time. Rodrigo had clearly had a bit too much wine, as he just grinned, rolled over in the grass by the river and said, “Fuck her if you like. She still keeps talking about your cock, you know.”

I was surprised at Rodrigo’s reaction, and perhaps even more when Marie suddenly knelt beside me and began to suck my aydın escort member. I became erect very rapidly under this treatment. After a few minutes of this, Marie came up for air.

“Oh Don Carlos, you are such a big man. I’m sure maman really enjoys your attentions, but have you entirely forgotten your little Marie and her oh-so-tight little quim? You know I haven’t been really stretched for quite a while, so my sweet little cunt is probably still as tight as maman’s arse.” The expression on her face was so demure, just like the sweet young girl I had been offered two years earlier, but her language and her manner were so different.

I looked towards Rodrigo, who was observing drunkenly from nearby. “Don’t mind me, Carlos. Go ahead, be my guest.” He belched. “If Marie wants it, you may as well let her have it. But I might want to join in later.” He flopped back onto the grass.

Marie smiled her sweet-little-girl smile that I had seen her use a lot of late. She could charm even the most curmudgeonly customer, and I felt sure that she sometimes used it to make Rodrigo jealous. Now she leaned close and whispered, “Fuck me, please, Don Carlos, while maman is asleep and Rodrigo is too drunk to care. I still remember how you filled me that first time. Please fill me again.”

Whatever I felt for Eleanor, I was still the prisoner of my own penis when a girl like Marie set her sights on me. I confess that the maids I had hired were not purely for the guests’ amusement, although I had yet to set my cock to a quim other than Eleanor’s. Once or twice I had got as far as a kiss, an embrace, a feel of the breasts. On one occasion, a maid had unbuttoned my breeches, all coquettish and ready to service me, but had been so shocked and terrified by what she found there that she had run off in tears! But with Marie – well, that was different. This was a path I had already trodden once. What harm in revisiting it, since the girl seemed determined to take me, with Rodrigo’s consent?

Before I could protest – not that I was minded to do so – the sweet blonde thing straddled my body and began to impale herself on me. I watched her face, transfixed as she concentrated on taking me, feeling, relishing the stretch she was suffering. I watched as she bit her lower lip, her eyes screwed up with concentration. Then, when she had managed to accommodate the head inside her tight cunt, she looked down.

“I have captured your beast, Don Carlos. My sweet little cunny will eat him all up. I’m such a tight little thing, you know, and you’re such a big, strong man with such a big, strong cock. Do you like it when I swallow your huge powerful beast?”

I was transfixed. I still recalled with pleasure the night when I had purchased Marie and her mother for ten francs each, and surprised her by entering her from behind. Now here was the girl virtually demanding of me that I service her. By the time she had slithered her oh-so-tight little cunt all the way down onto me, I was becoming desperate to plough that tight wetness until my cock exploded.

And so I did. The little demon rode me, making her endearing little whimpering noises and her whisperings of “Oh you’re so big, Don Carlos” and “You’re stretching me so much I think I might split in two, monsieur”, and “Please have mercy on my tight little cunt, monsieur!” The girl had become such a teaser. I for my part found her clitoris with my fingers and began to tantalise her until she was moaning with pleasure.

Then my reverie was broken by Rodrigo. He suddenly appeared behind Marie, pushing her forwards onto me. “Oh Rodrigo, so forceful!” she teased, but she spoke too soon. He held a small flask of olive oil in one hand, and before the girl could protest, was applying it to her rear entrance. She squealed, but he simply held her down, bent forward over my body, and she then squealed louder as he pressed his cock into her tight ring. “Rodrigo, no! I’m full of Don Carlos! I cannot – Ah! Ah! AHHHH!”

I confess, it is a strange sensation to feel another man’s cock moving inside a woman you are fucking. Only the thin membrane between her two holes separated Rodrigo’s member from mine, and for me the sensations were strange. For Marie, the sensations seemed overpowering. Her eyes and mouth were wide open, her body pressed down onto mine, her head thrown back, and from her throat came a thin, keening sound – like a choked-off scream.

Rodrigo seemed unmoved by Marie’s reaction. While I held still, cradling the skinny girl in my arms, Rodrigo pressed still deeper into her arse, moving his hand around to cup her mound and stroke her clitoris, brushing my fingers aside, so that I transferred my attention to her tiny breasts. He then began the sort of thrusting I would be loathe to attempt in a girl’s vagina. Marie’s eyes screwed up and I saw tears well at the corners, but Rodrigo seemed not to care. “Do you like this, you little whore? Two cocks in you – is that enough, or should we find a passing boatman so you can suck his at the same time?”

“Rodrigo! Please, be gentle with the girl. You are hurting her!” I protested.

“Nonsense, Carlos, she likes it hard up the arse, don’t you my pretty?” Marie seemed unable to speak, simply making little whimpering noises. “Come on Carlos. You’re not really fucking her, and she keeps talking about that big cock of yours. If you can’t thrust from that angle, move her up and down. She’s as light as a feather.”

He embedded himself balls-deep in her rear, then used his body to push her up and along my shaft. Marie gasped but still said nothing. Then, when she had travelled most of my length, Rodrigo dragged her back, re-filling her tight quim with me, before withdrawing his own shaft.

“Here, Carlos, help me. Keep up the movement. Slide her back and forth.”

“Marie, dearest. I can’t see you hurt,” I said softly to her. “Say the word and we’ll stop.

“Please!” It was the tiniest whisper. “Please, no. Please, don’t…”

“It’s alright Marie. If we move you slowly, I can pull out of you, and then…”

“No, monsieur. Please – please, don’t stop. I am – so near!” Her words were almost pleading, and she gripped my shoulders hard. “Please – do as – as Rodrigo says!”

I confess I was astonished, but I complied nonetheless, and between us Rodrigo and I slid Marie up and down my cock, and Rodrigo plunged in and out of her little arse. And about a minute later, I was aware of a stream of hot fluid gushing over my loins, her climax so strong that, as once before, she was drenching me in her fluids. Marie was squealing breathlessly, and I could feel her unbelievably tight hole squeezing me mercilessly. Rodrigo let go his stream of semen into her tight arse with a hoarse cry, and the two of them collapsed onto me, both panting furiously.

“Off me, now, I beg you,” I gasped, “or I will spend inside you!” The sensations were unbearable – I had to take my climax immediately.

“Don Carlos – fill me with your seed. Don’t hold back, I pray!” Marie sighed, to my astonishment and delight. Seconds later I did as she said, and my climax inside her was one of the strongest I have ever experienced.

The three of us lay in a heap, exhausted, sated. Marie kissed me, almost like the sweet kiss she gave me on that first night. Then she turned to Rodrigo, who leaned over her shoulder and kissed her more passionately. “I love you, my Rodrigo. You are such a bold lover!”

“And I adore you, my Marie. I trust that pleased you?”

“Oh Rodrigo, it was so – exquisite. And Don Carlos, thank you so much. I so needed to feel that big, big cock of yours once more. Maman has monopolised it for too long!”

“Perhaps, but now I see you are putting it to good use, ma petite.” I looked around and saw Eleanor lying on one elbow, observing us. Her face betrayed what I felt was more than a little annoyance.

“So, you two rogues. You’ve violated my daughter in the most unspeakable manner. And you, Carlos. You pledge me undying devotion, and then you stick your cock into Marie at the first opportunity. What do you have to say?”

“Maman! Please do not chide Don Carlos for this. I made him do it. I was in such need …”

“Marie, I can see that your physical prowess would enable you to overpower such a puny specimen as Don Carlos.” The sarcasm in Eleanor’s voice was palpable. “I found your performance today quite extraordinary. To imagine that a daughter of mine would allow herself to be used, to be filled in such a brutal manner, frankly surprises me. How could you?” She sounded angry and hurt.

“Maman, I wanted it! I love it when Rodrigo takes me up the arse, and when he is strong and powerful – well, it feels even better. I have tried putting my fingers, even a courgette inside my quim as he sodomises me, and it makes my climaxes even stronger. I needed to try it with something even bigger, and Don Carlos’s manhood is the largest thing I believe my quim can take. Maman, it felt so exquisite it seemed that I was with the angels!”

“With these two horny demons poking your fire with their rods? It seems unlikely, my pretty. And you two – what do you have to say for yourselves?”

There was no point in bluster or excuse. Marie was still impaled on our softening members and semen was leaking all over us. I was drenched in Marie’s juices and we probably stank of sex. “Eleanor, my dear. What can I say? You are my most precious one, but I started my relationship with you when you offered me your daughter’s quim for five francs. As you know, I accepted your offer and enjoyed the experience immensely, since when my cock has been yours and yours alone. But Marie has tasted its effects, and whilst I know Rodrigo is a proficient lover, I do not blame the girl for seeking to repeat her earlier experience. But I beg you to excuse my weakness. You yourself introduced me to her sweet tightness and her delicate little body. Now that she has experienced much – and Rodrigo has tutored her well – she is the most delightful of bedfellows; second only to you my dear.”

“Flattering rogue! Well clearly I can see that my sweet daughter has been corrupted irreversibly. Rodrigo, you have much to answer for.”

“Madame Eleanor, it is not I alone who must bear the blame – and indeed the credit – for that. You forget that she first experienced the joy of the rear entrance by emulating her maman. I cannot be blamed if the little minx – I believe your own words when you first tried to sell her to us – has become not only an eager pupil but also an insatiable enculeuse. I claim the credit for showing her this delight, since my organ is less proud and less intimidating than Don Carlos’s mighty tool and is therefore more easily a giver of pleasure, rather than of pain. But my dearest madame, from the sounds I hear through the wall at night, it seems that you also enjoy accommodating my master – and yours – both front and rear, so please do not deny Marie and I our use of such pleasures.”

To my surprise, Eleanor smiled. “Rodrigo, I cast no blame, nor am I truly angry with any of you. Whilst I am perhaps a little jealous of Don Carlos for putting his rod once more inside my daughter, despite our closer relationship,” and here she shot me a warning glance, “I believe that this small damage is easily remedied. Perhaps the goose should have the same sauce as the gander, n’est-ce pas? Rodrigo, you are a fine, strong young man, and unlike my daughter, I have never experienced your services as a lover. I suggest that the three of you clean yourselves in the river, and then you show me your skills. Don Carlos, you may observe, and only join us if I request it, do you understand?”

I smiled with some relief. So Eleanor’s jealousy could be assuaged by allowing Rodrigo to fuck her. All was well, since I would not deny either of them. Perhaps I could return to one or other of Marie’s tight holes when my friend and my regular lover were suitably occupied.

We three separated gingerly from each other, and then waded into the cool water to cleanse our bodies, and Eleanor joined us. We splashed each other playfully, but with none of my scented oils, our toilet was a little less scrupulous than usual.

We climbed out of the cool water and our bodies soon dried, partially because of the heat of the day, and partly because we were soon locked in a four-way embrace. Rodrigo and Eleanor had begun kissing and caressing whilst still in the water, Eleanor casting glances in my direction to look for signs of jealousy. I gave her none, since she deserved to sample whatever pleasures she desired from my friend, and I had no fear that he would steal my woman – nor I his. As those two continued their fondling and kissing on the blanket by the water’s edge, I slid in behind Eleanor, nuzzling her neck and reaching round to cup and stroke her breasts. Marie slid alongside me, dividing her attentions between both of we men, touching and stroking Rodrigo’s skin, whilst surreptitiously caressing my hardening shaft.

Rodrigo’s organ, meanwhile, was being tended to very effectively by Eleanor, first with her hands, then between her full breasts – a feat of which sweet Marie was not capable – and finally in her warm mouth. Rodrigo’s face was a picture of delicious torment as he experienced for the first time the touch of those lips and that tongue which had so often driven me to wild climax. Eleanor is an accomplished mouth-artiste, as Rodrigo was rapidly discovering, and I was afraid she would coax him beyond his limit as she had with me on more than one occasion, especially as she seemed capable of devouring much more of Rodrigo’s length than she could manage with mine.

But this was not to be, as after a long and very deep suck on my companion’s rigid cock, which made him cry out, she slowly pulled back, and allowed the throbbing organ to stand erect before her face. She looked up at its owner and smiled. “Now – eat my quim, Rodrigo. Show me how skilled you are with your silver tongue. And then, when I’m ready, I want you to fuck me, Rodrigo.”

She glanced at me to see what effect her words were having, but I just smiled and kissed her, continuing to stroke her luscious breasts. Marie, the sweet little whore, had been lying on her belly, sucking the head of my shaft as I knelt behind Eleanor. She now rapidly changed position, perhaps so as not to arouse her maman’s suspicions that she was once again exploring parts she should not.

I moved aside and slowly lowered Eleanor onto the blanket, but continued to caress her breasts as Rodrigo sank between her thighs. With gentle lapping stokes at first, gradually increasing intensity, he made my Eleanor’s slit glisten and begin to flood with moisture. Then, with great care, he used that moisture to ease the passage of his fingers into her dripping quim and her tight rosebud hole. First a finger in each, then slowly introducing more, his ‘come-hither’ movements with two fingers in her sweet cunt arousing her inexorably upwards. Meanwhile, his thrusts with two and then three fingers at her rear were met first with squeals of protest, and then with moans of pleasure.

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