The following story is true in its way, and was a scandal in its time - of the proportions of the Clinton and Lewinski scandal was in ours.
Alex d Core, a noble knight and lord of Redowlyn had been master of his faithful filae (An armed Moorish warrior loyal to a Christian knight.) for over 3-years during the holy wars. They had saved each other's lives many times during battle.
Alex d Core vowed to bring his faithful filae home with him and to keep him as a friend forever. You see after the wars in the holy lands, Mahmot no longer had a home of his own. Having taken up with the Christen armies his brethren would have hunted him down and murdered him. It might have taken a long time to actually kill such a magnificent man, but in time it would surely happen.
During his stint fighting the holy war, Alex d Core lost his father back on the family estates. It was nothing noble nor vial, only old age that had carried him away. Now the son was coming home to be the new lord of Redowlyn.
They arrived just before the Winter Solstice and while Lord knight Alex d Core was making the rounds, visiting his lands and people to refamiliarizing himself with one and all, his friend stayed behind at the noble's castle to relax in safety and comfort for the first time in his adult life.
She was small and fragile looking, almost like something from a fairytale. Mahmot stood well over 3 stones tall and towered over the small woman. His eyes smoldered as his lust rose from deep within. The huge Moor warrior was ready for more pleasurable things than his usual killing lust of battle.
The big black man moved silently forward, holding the young woman's gaze as if he were a black adder taking its prey. She gasped when his large battle scared hands closed over her delicate white shoulders.
She never made a sound when the big black warrior picked her up in his massive arms and carried her to his pallet. Still silent as he pulled her clothing away in loud tearing rips. The fine linen shredded easily in his brawny hands.
As he tore her clothing he glimpsed more and more female flesh. It had been many months since he'd ravished a woman. He had never had a white noblewoman before. It was a secret fantasy of his to defile himself with a beautiful foreign pig eater. To grunt joyously as he pumped his hot seed deeply into a frail little English woman. Yes, this would be good, he thought.
There was noise outside the chamber door. Mahmot knew that if this lady screamed he'd have twenty guardsmen on his back in an instant. But she remained silent, just looking up at him eyes wide.
Realizing that it was now or never, Mahmot began to strip his clothes off. He noticed that the woman's eyes stared at him as he striped. Was she afraid, or interested? He couldn't be sure. And if the truth were known, he didn't care. All he wanted just then was to take this white wench and take her like she'd never been taken before.
When Mahmot pealed his britches down to the ground and stood up he was sure that the emotion in the woman's eyes was excitement, and well, maybe a little fear. He didn't try to camouflage his arousal. He was half hard and growing fast. The fact that his object of lustful fantasies was laying only a foot away totally naked and watching him grow was enough to excite him more than anything else had in years. Including the lust of battle.
Mahmot had to admit that killing an enemy was almost as good as ravishing a woman's body. There had been many times when during a battle he found himself totally erect; almost painful in its intensity. Striking off another man's head with a sword had always given the warrior a hard on, even when he was a youngster and just starting out as a warrior.
He looked down in surprise; the feel of the woman's cold fingers on his swelling manhood brought him back to the present. He stood there looking down at her as she crawled up next to him and knelt on the bed handling him as she looked up into his face.
The sense of power that rushed through his big sturdy body almost made him week in the knees. Almost, but not quite. He grinned fiendishly as the pretty petite noblewoman began to massage his meat. The skin of his shaft quickly became coated with his seminal fluids and the woman's nimble fingers pulling and massaging his shiny black shaft.
She knelt naked in front of him looking at his manly tool with an expression of awe on her lovely face. The long black shaft snaked out between white delicate fingers each time she pulled or pushed. His excitement began to overpower his senses as he came closer and closer to the edge. After all it had been many months since he'd cum.
When the small female leaned over and kissed the head of his meat, Mahmot groaned and shivered as his cum surged up form his depths and spurted out into the light of day. Gush after gush of pent up seed splattered all over the shocked lady. Mahmot wondered if she'd ever seen a man cum into the air before. He smiled as she finally stopped flinching and accepted his hot sticky blasts.
Soon her face, breasts and stomach were splattered with the Moor's cum. He looked at the pretty woman; he thought momentarily to himself, "Hmmm, Moslem cum on a Christian wench," it had a poetic justice to it.