The lights are dim. Curtains drawn. A few candles flicker on the dresser, buffeted by winds of movement from the large double bed in the center of the room. Her name is Sarah, or maybe Sasha? I’m not sure. We only had a brief introduction as she was ushered inside, and the light fell momnentarily on her dark hair, her red lips, her sun-kissed skin, all of which told me that she was worthy. I knew that already, of course; only the worthy come here, to this house, to partake of my Stallion. But it is nice to have certainty, and now, looking down at her, I am more certain than ever. Her lips are parted, the tiny pink of her tongue visible through her repeated, gasping moans. Her eyes are unfocused, her hair a ruffled mess. She is feeling it, I know. We have all been there, all of us fortunates. I recognize the bliss in her eyes from a thousand of my own orgasms. She is close. So, so close.

Your body is warm, warm and hard and strong against mine, and I can feel your muscles work beneath your skin as I hold your hips and help you push forward, help you bury your stallion cock in her wet depths. Each thrust makes her breasts sway slightly, and your hands on her thighs makes sure that she never slides out of your grasp, that she stays put to receive you, to mold around you as you fuck her hard and deep, an almost selfish pace that nonetheless makes her mewl and groan with delight. Between the sounds of flesh smacking against flesh, I can hear her wetness drag over your cock as you pull back for another thrust, and it mixes into a beautiful symphony of wet sounds, the schlick-smack-schlick-smack of carnal worship, of ritual, of destiny.

“Fuck her harder,” I coo into your ear, and my breasts squish against your back as I drape my arms around your shoulders and lean against your back to press you forward. “Give her what she wants. Fuck her, baby, fuck her full of your cum. She wants it so bad…”

My voice is soft, sugary and suggestive, and you know all too well that the words and not mere platitudes; hidden beneath the layers of coy suggestions is a much truer need, an excitement born of experience, because I have felt that same want burn and whorl inside me, I have felt the need pulse like a gaping maw between my legs, to feel your cock pulse and spurt jet after jet of your cum into my aching womb. To be the vessel for your seed, to throw caution to the wind and simply indulge in the pure, atavistic bliss of being your giddy broodmare. To worship the Stallion. To give my body to you.

I can feel your pace quicken, and the smacking thumps of your hips against her thighs and ass grow in volume as you heed my voice and begin to fuck her without restraint. She is open, now, and even the large swell of your girth cannot stop you from bottoming out inside her silky pussy, so deep and forceful that her puffy lips cling momentarily to your skin every time you thrust forward. She is open for you, her body drooling arousal onto your length, and I titter with excitement as I see her face contort in the throes of orgasm; she is a good one, an obedient worshipper, one whose body knows when it is in the presence of pure, sexual perfection. And she cums, then, from the mere hammering of your cock against her G-spot, an orgasm that makes her even tighter and wetter for your pleasure. I imagine the taste of her mixing with your cum, the taste that I will soon enough enjoy sucking and slurping off of your stallion manhood, and my voice returns in your ear as I press myself tighter onto you.

“She came for you, my darling. Look how much she yearns for you; look how the thought of your seed makes her melt.”

My hips bump teasingly against your ass, and in an instant I have found your rhythm, until I can practically imagine that it is my own body causing her face to contort and twist in such luridly beautiful agony. I gaze down at her, a wide smile on my face, and I fuck her through you, fuck her into a mindless little puddle on the sheets, fuck her like we have fucked half a dozen women before her today, like we have done a hundred this month, or the hundreds upon hundreds before them that we have knocked up and made huge and blissful with your godly seed. My own moans begin to mix with hers as I cling to you, humping and gasping as you fuck her into ruin, and then I feel you tense, and my fingers clench against your skin as I urge you into that final sprint, that last, agonizing push through to the end.

“Yesss, darling, cum for me! Cum for me, my stallion beauty, my stud, fill her aching little cunt with your gorgeous cream!”

And you do, gloriously and loudly, your exuberance having long since banished any pretense at modesty as you fucked your way through every woman I could find for you. You slam into her, hands clutching her to your body and fingers curling in overpowering pleasure as you press yourself to the hilt and empty your large sack into her cervix, each gushing jet so large and overpowering that her body cannot contain it. In mere moments she is leaking a torrent of white onto the sheets beneath her as you fill her with the life she craves, and I stare greedily at her face to steal every rapturous moment for my own pleasure. Only when her eyes flutter shut and her breathing becomes a series of ragged moans do I let up, loosening my grip on you and gently pulling you back and away from her, to leave her a ruined, cum-oozing mess on our marital bed.

“Perfect, my love,” I coo, and peck a kiss on your cheek. “You did so well! She will never forget this, never in a million years!”

Slowly, you turn around to face me, and I slide to the ground obediently, my mouth opening to catch your dripping, cum-stained cock between my lips. With a moan of pleasure, I sink you halfway into my mouth and begin to lap at you, tasting you and her in equal measure as my right hand slinks down to rub against my clit. You put a hand on my hair, and I do not resist as you drag me down onto your cock until it is buried to the hilt in my throat. It is a ritual, the solemn duty of the High Priestess to clean the cock of her Lord and Master, her God made flesh, and I suck and slurp and flex my throat around you until you mercifully pull back, leaving thick strings of cum-flavored drool to bridge the gap between us.

“Thank you, love.”

I gaze up at the sound of your voice to see you smiling at me, and with a grin I stick out my tongue and lick away the drool and the cum and the girly arousal, until you are nice and pristine again. Then I rise and embrace you, and my naked body presses into yours as I whisper, loud enough that the half-insensate girl can hear:

“For you, darling, anything. Now, are you ready for the next one..?”