Continue peeking

You close your eyes, cock in hand, and stare in teen lust at your 'eldest sister'. Her sleek, blooming form screams of sex, but it's her prim, proper manner that you find so attractive. Or perhaps, it's that prim, proper manner that you'd like to fuck out of her.

You had bedded two other girls before this. Whores from a nearby brothel. You'd had them dressed in the finest silks, with their hair down and spread out underneath you. In your head, you'd been deep in your sisters tight cunt whilst the warmth of the whores depths had milked you out into her. You'd whispered "sister" as you claimed her.

Now, from your hidden vantage point, you once again lusted after her. Recalling the feeling of the whores slit and imagining it was your sister begging for your seed.

Snapping back from reality, you realise your focus being on Sansa has meant that you haven't been keeping track of the ebb and flow of the conversation, and, readjusting your focus to check the thread of the argument, you catch a slight adjustment from Arya, who turns her head away from you, as if she had been looking around, but your worry lasts only a second as she joins back in with the heated argument.