Sam & Gilly’s Return

The march south had barely begun when riders brought word from the south gate. Samwell Tarly and Gilly had returned from Oldtown, bearing books, scrolls, and **** news of the Citadel’s failing lamps against the coming dark. But it was Gilly who caught your eye as they approached your tent - her wildling beauty roughened by travel, her body fuller now after the child she’d borne, hips wide and breasts heavy beneath her furs. She met your gaze without shame, a knowing flush already creeping up her neck. Sam hovered beside her, nervous, loyal, and clearly aware of what had happened in your chambers moons ago.

That night, after Melisandre had been thoroughly sated and left glowing and drowsy on the furs with her enormous belly rising and falling, you summoned them.

Gilly entered first, shedding her cloak. Sam followed, eyes darting between you and his woman.

“You’ve both served well,” you said, voice low. “But tonight I need something warmer than prophecy.”

Gilly’s eyes darkened with hunger. She stepped forward without being told, dropping to her knees in front of you. Her small hands worked open your breeches, freeing your cock - already thick and heavy from watching Melisandre’s pregnant body earlier. She licked her lips.

“Lord Commander,” she whispered, voice husky. “I’ve thought about this since last time.”

You gripped her hair, guiding her mouth onto you. She took you eagerly, lips stretching wide, tongue swirling around the head before sliding deeper. Wet, obscene sounds filled the tent as she bobbed, sucking you with sloppy devotion. Sam watched, breathing hard, his own cock straining against his clothes.

“Strip her,” you ordered him.

Sam obeyed, peeling away Gilly’s layers until she was naked on her knees - soft, pale curves, full tits swaying with every thrust of her head on your shaft. Her nipples were stiff, cunt already visibly glistening.

You pulled out of her mouth with a wet pop, strings of spit connecting her lips to your cock. “On the furs. On your back.”

Gilly obeyed, spreading her thighs. Sam moved between them immediately, groaning as he sank his cock into her soaked cunt. She moaned loudly, back arching, taking him to the hilt.

But you had no interest in her pussy tonight. You circled behind her head, tilting it back over the edge of the furs. “Open.”

She did, mouth wide and willing. You fed her your cock again, fucking her throat in long, steady strokes while Sam pounded her cunt. The dual rhythm made her body jolt between you - muffled gurgles and wet slaps echoing. Her throat tightened beautifully around you, rippling as she fought for air between thrusts.

“Her other hole is mine,” you growled to Sam.

You pulled free, slick with her spit, and moved down. Sam kept fucking her steadily, holding her legs wide. You pressed the fat head of your cock against Gilly’s tight little arsehole, still glistening from her own drool. She whimpered, pushing back against you.

Slowly, you **** your way in - inch after thick inch stretching her rear passage. The heat was incredible, tighter than her cunt had ever been. Gilly cried out, a broken, needy sound, as you buried yourself balls-deep in her arse while Sam continued railing her pussy.

“Gods… so full…” she gasped, voice wrecked.

You could feel Sam’s cock moving on the other side of the thin wall separating her holes. The pressure was obscene, delicious. You started thrusting - harder, deeper - claiming her arse with possessive strokes. Gilly shook between you, tears of overwhelming pleasure leaking from her eyes, her body surrendering completely.

Sam’s pace grew frantic. “Jon… I’m—”

“Fill her cunt,” you commanded.

He did, groaning as he pumped her full. The moment he finished, you pulled out of her arse, flipped Gilly onto her hands and knees, and drove back into that freshly-fucked, twitching hole. You fucked her arse relentlessly now, skin slapping skin, one hand gripping her hip and the other tangled in her hair. Sam knelt beside her head, letting her clean his spent cock with her tongue while you used her.

Melisandre watched from the shadows of the tent, one hand lazily stroking her swollen belly, crimson eyes glowing with approval and fresh arousal.

You felt your climax building. With a deep growl you slammed deep and unloaded, flooding Gilly’s arse with thick, heavy ropes of seed. She came hard around the invasion, her whole body convulsing, cunt dripping Sam’s cum onto the furs while her rear passage milked every drop from you.

When you finally pulled out, her arse gaped slightly, your cum leaking from the well-used hole. Gilly collapsed, panting, thoroughly claimed.

Sam looked dazed, spent, but satisfied. Gilly turned her head, eyes glazed with lust, and whispered hoarsely:

“Any time you want these holes again, my lord… they’re yours.”

You looked down at them both, cock still half-hard, the Long Night waiting outside the tent.

“Good,” you said. “Because winter is long… and I intend to stay warm.”