King Arthur in the Adventures of Cameltoe (Part 1) - Sex Stories

King Arthur in the Adventures of Cameltoe (Part 1)

... He then pushed the robe from my shoulder and let it slip to the floor. “Role playing, Guin. Catch up.” “Oh yes, sorry.” I arched my head back I gazed up at the face of my dreams. I smiled as he unbuckled his belt. “Take them off.” I wasn’t used to being told what to do. But the novelty excited me. I unbutton his trousers and pulled them down his legs. Lancelot was definitely gay because he had shaven legs. They were smooth and shiny, like a bald man’s head. But that was the least of my worries as he possessed the cock, of all cocks. It hung right in front of my face, bobbing up and down as the blood travelled its trunk. The thing was a table leg. So when he smacked me in face with it, I felt that I had lost a tooth. Holding my cheek I slapped his naked thigh. “Hey, fuck off, hitting me with that thing.” “I think you’re going to take a bit of breaking in, that’s all. So I’m just getting it hard.” “Yeah, but, getting yourself hard nearly gave me a black eye. You may as well clobber me with a rolling pin.” “Right, if you’re not into happy slapping, you’ll have to suck it then.” “No need to ask twice, Lance.” I smiled while I held it in my hands. But a rather worrying thought then popped into my head. “You have washed this since the last time you fucked a guy in the backside, right?” “I washed it just before I came back for you.” “Phew, that’s a relief, because I’m starving.” I stuck out my tongue and licked the one eyed monster. From the raw taste I guessed Lancelot was lying ...

... about washing it. But it was too late, I was hooked. You see, when a girl loves a man, it doesn’t matter if he was a little lax on the hygiene, I couldn’t care less. While I went about licking the swollen end, I thought about the difference in cocks. But there was just no comparing Lancelot with Arthur. It’s like chipolatas versus footlongs. So I massaged his cock with my hand as I began cleaning him with my tongue. The fact Lancelot groaned while he stroked my hair urged me on. “Take me whole, slag.” All too eager to please my master, I filled my mouth with warm, throbbing cock. “Further.” It was a struggle as I impaled myself on his stake. I closed my eyes under the strain of my stretching mouth, and slurped like a blocked plughole. Lancelot pulled my hair. “Keep looking at me while you suck” Despite the struggle to take Lancelot, I opened my eyes. My gaze was now fixed on his angelic face. He started to drive himself forward, causing me to choke and retch. Tears streamed from my glazed eyes before trickling down my cheeks. But I dared not break eye contact from my man. Lance bent his knees a little so he could reach down and have a feel of my tits. But he clearly wasn’t a breast man, because after a moment of twiddling my nipples he once again stood straight. Shame. “Don’t forget my balls.” Lancelot was becoming a tad demanding for my liking. Yet I leaned my head back, but Lance pushed me back down onto his shaft. “I never said stop sucking. Use your hands.” I reached up and ...