Chapter 6

The unexpected orgy in the forest clearing was still sharp in Rowena’s mind when she awoke early the next morning. The entire entourage of female companions was still abed with the young ones all circled around the haughty lady with her strange ways and thick black belt for sinful urges of depraved dominance.

Sir Roland was already down at the nearby river washing his bulk with soap left over from the Gypsy camp. She spied the friar in a huddled lump spooning the youngest of the female companions of the great lady. He was not moving, but she suspected his over-active member was still fully inserted in the young girl’s quim and neither of them had any motivation to disengage on the chance their sinful coupling would continue with the awakening on the morrow.

Fortunately, she was alone in her resting place with her legs crossed and her blade on her chest in the eventuality of some nocturnal attack of undetermined origin. Her memory of her behavior the night before was a bit befuddled but if her thoughts served her correctly, she had invited the attentions of the great lady in a most unseemly manner and allowed the pretty young girl with no undies to mount her in a pretense of masculine authority. It was disgusting, to be sure, but the sensation of the girl’s bare flesh was tempting to her depraved thinking and she found her hand wandering down to her secret garden like some obsessed thief sensing a happy “tingle” in the offing.

She watched Sir Roland stretch his muscular bulk and dip his impressive manly parts into the cool water of the fast-running river and wondered if he had enjoyed the evening of pleasure with so many females at his beck and call.

There was no sign of the Sheriff’s men and she gave thanks to God for his benevolence in granting them another night of continued good fortune. She had quietly relieved the lady of her gold bracelet, more out of habit, than from any urge to possess the bauble. It was certain to put a gleam in the friar’s eye when he felt the weight of the thing in his huge hand. That was the sort of treasure that would give the three of them enough coins to continue their journey and make some progress in their struggle to preserve the sacred lands for their rightful king, King Richard. His long absence was now a throbbing and open sore on the pulse of the entire nation. The common folk tended to hold their breath waiting for the signal that the oppression of the Sheriff of Nottingham and the evil usurper John might be coming to an end with the return of the rightful king from the horrors and sacrifices of the Crusades in a far-away land.

They had waited and waited and now Rowena came full circle to the realization that the King was truly dead and patience was no longer required. Now the name of the game was survival even if it meant isolation in the depths of the darkest forest in the realm.

The lady’s true name was Cordelia of Cornwall and she had been a reluctant follower of the newly installed King John and his minions scouring the countryside taxing and robbing the common folk of their coins, their possessions and in some cases, their very existence.

Rowena didn’t hold that against her because most of the titled personages of the royal court were generous with their smiles and words of loyalty whenever King John was in the neighborhood, no matter how opposed they were to his oppressive rule when there were no spies to carry a tale back to the authorities. Up to this very moment, Rowena, Sir Roland and the friar had kept their politics to their own counsel and acted the role of ignorant, but happy, travelers joined together for comradeship and safety in the countrified regions filled with bandits and rogue tax collectors.

She wandered down to the stream and watched the naked form of Sir Roland exercising with his long sword in the waist-deep water. In a way, she was somewhat disappointed because she had no clear view of his manhood. Of course, she had seen him up close and personal on several nocturnal adventures best left unreported to preserve the remains of her dismally tarnished reputation. The memory of his spirited penetrations made her breathe a bit faster than normal and she knew early morning was the best time for a quick orgasm to start the day off just right.

He spied her standing by the bank and moved a bit closer into shallower waters.

Now, his upright member was standing at attention and pointed directly at her person like some hound dog on the chase of prey for the dinner table. She knew the depth of her depravity because it only made her more anxious to join her flesh with the study knight in joyful fornication on the bed of soft green grass. Rowena shuddered with anticipation like some wood nymph cavorting with guiltless abandon and total lack of conscience about future consequences. Perhaps this would be the time that the tall, handsome knight would enter her flanks in sinful pursuit of her alternate entry tightness. It was too much to hope for because he was fairly one-tracked in his copulatory endeavors using the standard “missionary” position at all times. Still, it was nice to contemplate at times when her sphincter longed for more action of the carnal category on a cold winter’s night.

Before Sir Roland reached the shore, she had shed all of her clothing and took a supine position on the grass with her knees wide open and her womanhood displayed for his hungry eyes like breakfast being served “a la carte”.

He stuck his sword in the swaying grass without ceremony and mounted her like he would a balky filly with lust written in her devious eyes and a nervous attitude that needed a firm hand to bring under control. He paused to slap her flanks more than once and she loved his huge paws bringing her cheeks to a happy shade of red so quickly that she struggled to catch her wind before he plunged down lower and started to impale her a whole lot deeper than the sword had entered the grassy loam beside her head. She looked in his smoky eyes and saw the mirror image of her sinful lusting reflection pointing the finger of shame in her direction.

Once he started his rhythmic pounding, she fell into a swoon that served to steady her response. Her breathing was sure and steady and her juices started to flow with unabated joy and happiness. It was not the first time Sir Roland had mounted her so impetuously, but it was unique because she knew he wanted to give her pleasure not like the other males that seemed to desire only to spurt their essence and move on to the next challenge before she even had a chance to test their degree of devotion. She had not been very lucky in her choice of male partners and that was the truth of it. Upon reflection, she had to admit most of that was her own fault because she had such a high level of expectation for her close personal companions and had yet to find one that matched her liking.

It came as a complete surprise to the both of them that after he accidently slipped out of her wet and warm womanly womb, he reentered her a little further back with her knees held exceedingly high and his fully lubricated shaft slid inside her rear door with a vengeance that inspired him to hump away happily in the much tighter channel. Of course, Rowena knew almost immediately because she was much attuned to such activities keeping her desires to her own counsel. She made no verbal outburst about the accidental switch of entry points and the frenzied knight pounded away with enthusiastic thrusts until even he realized he was greasing a strange and unfamiliar entryway with all its sinful reputation of abnormal behavior. Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on your point of view, he was already past that point of no return as his boiling spunk was traveling at the speed of light down his long, thick rod and beginning to spurt with measured floods of cream into her thirsty gut like soothing milk of a carnal whirlwind swirling through her ring of anal defense in pulsating waves of passion undenied. She begged Sir Roland,