She does, but the prize is another story

The blushing, chubby woman clumsily sneaks through the street, her hands firmly clutching her breasts and crotch.

Her face is as red as a tomato and her heart is pounding away in her ample chest.

Her breathing is ragged and she starts to sweat, A LOT. Soon, it's dripping down her face as a thin sheen forms on the underside of her breasts and across her soft, chubby belly.

The sounds of moaning and skin slapping against skin echo through the air. The prudish Greta tries not to look too much over at Duchess Gwendolyn and the orgy she has inspired in the mob, but the poor woman can't help but peak, getting a voyeuristic thrill in spite of herself.

Finally, after much tip-toeing and multiple glances over at the mountain of moaning flesh, the maid makes her way to a pile if discarded rags.

She tries to paw through them, looking for something suitable for both her and Queen Belinda, but her far-sightedness and the limited lighting around her makes it difficult to see anything properly.

Eventually, out of sheer frustration and the growing fear of being caught, she simply scoops up as much as she can, and starts waddling back to Belinda.

Unfortunately for Greta, one of the horny peasants spots her walking past.

"Hey!" He says as the naked servant freezes in fear. "Forget about that junk and join the fun!"

"S-sorry! I-I can't!" Greta squeaks back, dropping most of what she had gathered as she breaks into a dead run.

"What's her problem?" The man asks before a peasant girl grasps his cock and kisses it, instantly making him forget his troubles.