Renaissance Faire - Sex Stories

Renaissance Faire

... Kennedy called her boss who suggested she use her vacation time to work the faire, so she would eliminate the need for double shifts. She could then take a couple of shifts at the bar during the week so whoever worked her shift during the weekends could have the days off. Kennedy worked with Dawn and her clan on the costume and dialect needed to be a Renaissance Faire barmaid. For the most part, it was a costume showing a heavy amount of cleavage, with a maroon and gold corset, and full-length, green and blue skirt. The white, off-the-shoulder under-blouse added just the right amount of accent to the costume’s top, adding that element of sexy and slutty. The first day of the faire was the roughest as she wasn’t used to the rigorous schedule or the scorching heat. Dawn worked side by side with Kennedy and together they made the best of the situation. As the faire guests left, the faire regulars began filtering into the tavern. One group was clearly Scottish, wearing green tartan kilts and colorful shirts with dark vests. They came in singing loudly, chanting what seemed to be their clan song as they took over a back table. “Ah, the MacPhallus Clan,” giggled Dawn. “MacPhallus?” asked Kennedy. “Oh right, we forgot to discuss names. Here, everyone comes up with crazy names. The MacPhallus’ are notorious for fucking anything that moves.” “Thanks for the warning.” One of the clan members, a tall handsome man with long auburn hair and a beard, stepped up and said in a thick, ...

... Scottish accent, “Round of drinks for me clansmen, wench!” Kennedy poured the drinks quickly with a smile and said slyly, “Tell me sir, is it true what they say about what Scotsmen don’t wear beneath their kilts?” “Maybe later the wench will find out,” he replied with a grin and a wink. She could smell the aroma of Scotch whisky on his breath. He took the drinks and the party continued. Other members of the faire came in, drank, ate, and hooked up. Many of the members of the MacPhallus clan left with one or more of the women who came in until the only remaining was the man who ordered the drinks. Kennedy and Dawn began cleaning up, putting stock away, and closing the tavern. Kennedy slipped into the back, where they kept stock, to put some items away when she was pinned against a wall of products by a man. “Still be wantin’ to know what be under me kilt, wench?” Kennedy smiled. “What’s in it for me?” He turned her around. She could see the burning lust in his brown eyes. “A tasty treat if ye be good.” “I’m never good.” “I be countin’ on that.” He pushed her down to her knees, then lifted his kilt. Kennedy smiled. “I see the good Lord blessed you, indeed.” “Take it, wench, and do your best.” “Ye be havin’ a name?” she asked. “Make me cum, wench, and I be tellin’ ya.” Kennedy took his cock into her hand. The soft skin began to tighten as she slid the foreskin back from the head, exposing the purple mushroom head, and licked the tip. The salty precum coated her tongue, fueling her ...