Anne Deleur

Anne was walking through the great hall of the de Sine family keep, trailed by her maid, Beatrice.

The countess was still learning the ins and outs of her husband's estate. She has been training for this her whole life, and truth be told, she was looking forward to putting her stamp on the household. But then she had nothing but time.

Married almost two weeks, and you've only seen your husband for three of those days, thought the noblewoman. She had been hoping to get to know her husband. Alas, they had their wedding feast followed by him breaking her maidenhead and then hopping on his horse to go wait on his majesty.

She smiled to herself, happy in the fact that her husband might be old, but he knew what he was doing. The horror stories she'd heard about her friends' first nights could cause nightmares. But with Albert, a slight sting, and then he gave her the little death. So, all in all, she lucked out there.

Crossing the bailey, she looked at her maid, asking, "That would be the castle brewery over there?"

"Oui, my lady," replied the servant.

Entering the brewery, the smell of barley and hops hit her. Followed by the sound of the slap, slap, slap of flesh hitting flesh.

Anne shook her head when she heard her new stepson, who was three years older than her, exclaim, "You like that, don't you? Getting fucked like a tavern whore."

Mnnn, yessss, give it to me, my lord. Fill me with your prong. "Moaned the alewife.

Coming around the corner, Anne saw the couple. The alewife was bent over an ale barrel. Her dress was thrown over her back, baring her rear to her lover. The woman's breasts were hanging out the front of her dress.

Noticing her standing there, Simon exclaimed, "Ahhhh, Maman, I'll be with you in a moment."

Reaching around her, Simon grabbed one of the woman's swaying udders, roughly mauling the nipple. Disciple Anne, she reminded herself as she watched Simons glistening cock plunge in and out of the alewife's cunt. Suddenly Simon jerks the woman's hair as one would a horse's reins.

The alewife, forced upright, screamed, "God yes," as her cream exploded from her frothing cunt. Not to be outdone, Simon thrust one last time as his balls let go, seeking to breed the servant. Unlike Beatrice, who turned red fleeing the room. Anne managed to stay outwardly calm as she watched her stepson's ass clench with every rope of virile seed he fired into the woman.

Coming down from their high, Simon withdrew from the woman with a slurp as seed from the servant-used well slit leaked onto the floor. He smooths down the back of the woman's dress as she tucks her breasts back in.

The servant turns to Anne, a scared look in her eyes, certain she was about to be reprimanded. Waving a hand, Anne said, "Return to your duties."

The alewife curtsied, murmuring, "Thank you, my lady," before leaving the room.

The woman having fled, Anne turned her attention to her stepson. "Simon, I gave you leave to call me by my Christian name."

Simon laughed out loud as he tucked himself into his codpiece. "But then where would I get the perverse thrill of referring to a woman younger than me as mother?"

Anne sighed, remarking, "According to the steward, the castle has had to find 17 husbands for the girls you have been breeding over the last two years alone.

Once again dressed properly, Simon sauntered over, kissing Anne's cheek and saying, "Maybe Steward should hire ugly servants then."

Anne wanted to smile but instead changed tack,"what would your father say?"

Simon snorted, replying, "Father would give me pointers; he took me to my first brothel, you know." Throwing out his arms, Simon dramatically exclaimed, "If one wishes to be a connoisseur of quim. One needs to see a lot of it, and I'm something of an expert."

"Can't you ever be serious," Anne chastised.

All of a sudden braggadocio fell from Simon's face as he simply said, "Anne, for my whole life, York and Lancaster have been at each other's throats. At Townton, Father and I got out by the skin of our teeth, but most of our men didn't."

Simon half turned, looking at the wall. "Of the men I paiged with, the men I called brother are almost all dead or crippled. Currently we're neutral, but even in neutrality you have to be watchful."

Anne empathetically reached out, but Simon raised his hand, stopping her. "Listen, they say Lancaster is done," Simon says, shaking his head. "Sooner or later armies will match again. We all deal with it differently; some pray, some feast, some hunt. Me? I fuck. I listen to a woman wail with pleasure as she cums on my cock. To drown out the wails of my friends dying with a sword in their guts."

Realizing he might have reveled too much, Simon left a stunned Anne alone in the brewery.