The Fish That Got Wet

Lyonel looked down at the curtsying lady of Winterfell, and the ample cleavage she proudly presented to him.

"I would be honoured, my lady," the prince replied, accepting her invitation to dance.

Lyonel took Catelyn by the arm and guided her to the dance floor, painfully aware how hard the lady Stark was pressing her right breast against his arm and trying not to get erect in front of the crowd, who even though are very much drunk, would still notice his unusually large organ if it reached its full length.

"My lady," Lyonel said softly, even though there was no chance of being overheard anyway. "The gift I gave you earlier today. Do you remember it?"

Catelyn Stark smiled sluttily. "A lady never forgets a gift as rare and precious as that my prince."

"And I'm hoping that you wore it to the feast today?"

"Of course. Your Grace was very insistent of it."

"And if I don't trust your word in this? If I asked you to show me proof?"

"Right here?" Catelyn asked, her composure cracking for a little bit.

"Well weren't you the one oh so eager earlier today to prove how much of a slut you were?" Lyonel asked grinning. Catelyn sucked in her breath and looked around, though with the din all around him, there was no chance to hear what they were talking about.

Yet, as Catelyn looked around, she realized something. "Where are we going?"

"Just trust me Cat," was the prince's only reply.

The great hall of Winterfell had been transformed for the special feast. The hall was divided into two, and in each side, their were rows and rows of tables and benches for the revelers to feast. But in the middle of the hall, going from the great oaken doors to the raised dais, was a wide path, where most of the dancing and intermingling was taking place. And Lyonel had taken the Lady Stark to the very back of this path while still being within the range of politeness.

"Well, this should do it." Lyonel said, stopping in his tracks. He took one of Catelyn's hands with his own, put his other hand around her waist (probably a bit more lower than necessary) and began to sway. Catelyn obliged as if by instinct, but the prince can see how shocked she was.

Most likely, the lady of Winterfell has never seen this part of the hall this far into the feast. This far back down the hall is where outriders, sworn swords, bastards, hedge knights and sons of landed knights were seated... and it showed. As they circled each other, Lyonel saw at least four drinking competitions and a dozen matches of arm wrestling. While people at the front were still trying to put on a mask of civility (very unsuccessfully one might add) there were no such pretentions here in the back. There were no female revelers, and all the maids were getting groped at least. Lyonel saw one knight taking a maid and twirling her fast in the dance floor, making her dress go up much to the enjoyment of the crowd. Another maid was sitting on the lap of a knight who was nuzzling her neck. His hands were below the table, and the maid was making all the right noices to show that she was having fun, though her face was one of boredom. No one seemed to notice the wife of their lord in their midst.

Speaking of whom, Lyonel turned his attention back towards Catelyn. Her face was flushed red, her lips were parted and her chest was falling up and down rapidly. The minor yet casual degeneracy she had witnessed has obviously turned her on. "Enjoying the sight my lady?" the prince asked teasingly.

Catelyn looked up to him, her mouth opening and closing with no words coming out. She has embraced the life of a slut just this evening, and such sights still shocked her. Not for long though, if Lyonel had his way.

As they danced, the Baratheon prince noticed a particular corner in the dance floor. All the candles near it has burnt out, and with all the maids in the vicinity occupied, there was no one to replenish them. Lyonel slowly led Catelyn to the corner. Now they were truly invisible.

Having been made completely sure of their privacy, Lyonel could now finally allow himself to completely focus on the beautiful woman in his arms. He looked at her, and saw that she was looking enthralled at the woman who was being spun by the knight, whose skirts were far above her waist.

"Enjoying the sight harlot?" Lyonel asked, a half grin and half leer on his face. "Maybe I should do that to you. Show your husband's bannermen what a whore their liege lord's wife is. Or maybe I should let them do that?" Lyonel said, gesturing with my head to the knight who is furiously fingering the bored maid on his lap.

Catelyn didn't waste any time to come up with a retort. "I would be glad to obey any command my prince gives me. Though I would enjoy the ordeal far more than that poor girl if my prince were the one to do it."

The answer took Lyonel aback. Catelyn must have finally come to terms that, despite being in a crowded hall, they have a lot of privacy. Lyonel laughed out loud, and Catelyn gave him an impish smile.

"There's the slut I remember!" Lyonel exclaimed. "It's good to have you back."

"It's good to be back, my prince." Catelyn said with a teasing smile. Just like that, her repressed self emerged once more, and she seemed like an entirely different person. Under the cover of darkness and with the pretense of a dance, the lady of Winterfell got much closer to Lyonel, her body basically glued to the Baratheon prince.

"My prince asked if I was wearing the gift he so generously bestowed upon me. Well, you can see that for yourself now," she murmured in Lyonel's ear with a voice that gave him shivers of excitement.

One of Lyonel's hands was already on Catelyn's waist and now began to roam her back, going from neck to waist. And sure enough, he found slightly wet spots every now and then. The prince was unable to stop himself then. His hands slipped down lower, and grabbed one of Catelyn's firm buttocks.

The lady Stark moaned lowly. "I missed you my prince. I missed your touch. I missed your smile. I missed your smell."

The said prince gave a small smile. "It's has only been a couple of hours, Cat. Are you sure that it's me you missed, and not just a part of my body?"

Catelyn was now basically glued to Lyonel's body, so he couldn't see her face, but he could feel her smiling. "Why can't it be both your Grace?" she said. Then her hands snaked onto his breeches and began to pump the outline of his semi erect cock.

Lyonel jolted with the sudden influx of pleasure. Unfortunately, he knew he couldn't risk his cock getting fully hard, so he put a hand over Catelyn's dainty hands and nudged it. She got the message and started to step back. But as she did so, Lyonel hands went up quickly and with one deft motion popped open another button of her dress. And so when Catelyn stepped back, he could see a good amount of her cleavage displayed.

Then, the lady of Winterfell took it a step too far. Collecting a wad of spit in her mouth, she looked down, and spat at her own chest. The line of drool fell on her chest, rolled down between the white valley of her breasts, and disappeared underneath her dress. Lyonel stared at her, mouth wide open.

"I once saw a lady of ill repute do that to entice a knight when I was a young woman," Catelyn said, almost shyly.

"And little did the young woman knew that she would grow up to be an even bigger whore," Lyonel growled lowly, breathing hard. Catelyn shivered under the lusty looks he was giving her. Then, she noticed the outline of his cock through his breeches, and her eyes grew equally lustful.

"I want you," Lyonel said. "Now."

"My husband went out with your father," Catelyn said, her breathing as hard as his now. "Our bed would be empty."

"And it is a tragedy when a beautiful woman's bed is cold."

"Will you come then?" she asked, grasping his arms.

The prince hesitated for a minute. "It would be unseemly if both of us left the hall at once. You go first, and I'll follow in a while. I must say my farewells to your son and other important people."

"Don't take too long," Catelyn whispered.

"I won't. Now, go!" Lyonel said, giving Catelyn's ass a soft pat. He looked on as she left the hall. She tried to be poised about it, making extravagant hip movements to entice him. But her horniness won out in the end, and she instead briskly walked out the hall, too impatient and horny to play the suave seductress.

Lyonel smiled and shook his head indulgently and walked towards Robb. He must say his farewells to the heir of Winterfell as soon as possible so Lyonel could go and fuck his mother.