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This is too much. You stand, and steadily begin to disrobe.

A smirk forms on the Red Witch's face, yet her spellcasting continues. The wine dribbling down her breasts, on to her navel and then into her bush looks tantalising, and as you finish removing your clothes, throwing them haphazardly to the ground at your feet, you approach her. As you near her, you drop to your knees, and begin to lick from her navel to tits. Her nipples stand on end, from the cold breeze through the shuttered windows of the warm room.

Your tongue tastes her skin, which reminds you of spiced wine you have tasted from Essos over the years. Your prick is at full attention, and precum coats the tip.

Your tongue traces the red wine down her body to her navel, and you lap at it, with each drip you get closer to her cunnie.

When you reach the folds of her most precious area, you look up. She returns your gaze with fervent desire, lost in the spell she is casting.

Let's see if I can't make her words falter, you think to yourself, the second before your mouth covers her clit. She groans, and her mumbling grows louder. You lap at her clit, before making long, lashing movements from the base of her lips to the hood, and her hand shoots out to grip your hair, taking stern hold of it. You redouble your efforts and with each long, measured, forceful lick from lip to clit her legs quiver a little.

For a few seconds, she seems to revel in this, until you feel a sharp tug on your hair. You stumble to your feet, and you realise the wine glass is empty. She sets it on the table and pushes you back into the chair you recently vacated. As you fall, she mounts you, nimbly, gracefully, and without missing a beat, places your cock at her entrance.

She looks you in the eye, and the song of her spell intensifies, grower louder. Your prick applies pressure to her womanhood, and with the slightest resistance, her moist warmth opens up around it, your cock hilting itself in her pussy.

Slowly, she begins to ride you. There is no kissing, only passionate, methodical fucking. It is sex with a goal, and you can only imagine that goal is for your seed to plant itself within her. Her riding is long and stretched out, and each time her tight hole draws itself up your pole, you groan. She clamps her cunt muscles masterfully each time she reaches your base, milking you.

Your prick is aflame as her cunt massages you, and your thrusts begin to pick up speed to match her steady rhythm, until, her face entirely passive, her eyes locked on yours... and the stony facade breaks, her muttering becomes a shriek as she leans backwards, her pelvis grinding down on you harder and harder until you can do naught but ride this out. Her orgasm takes hold of her and she becomes a rutting beast, revelling in her own pleasure.

The sight has you harder than you've ever been in your entire life, but you cannot move. Your looming release abates, and you watch the Red Witch's quivers slow. Her chanting stops, and a fine layer of sweat has formed across her body.

She gracefully dismounts you, your hard-on still sticking pathetically up from your lap, covered in your precum and her excitement.