Goose Girl

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Authors: Giselle Renarde
Tags: Erotic, explicit sex, twisted fairy tale, girl love
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horse
remained, but Rosamunda was nowhere to be seen.
    "Rosamunda? Rosamunda!" Svana rode Falada in
circles around the clearing, calling for her maid until the servant
appeared on the scene with a jewel-encrusted cup of water in hand.
"Rosamunda, dear maid, where in the world have you been all this
time?"
    Rosamunda shrugged. "You've slaked your
thirst, now I am slaking mine." And, having spoken brashly to the
princess, she guzzled the wet contents of Svana's chalice.
    "But you drink from my golden cup," Svana
whined. "The queens packed that for me, as part of my dowry. It
isn't yours to use, and certainly not without permission."
    Again, Rosamunda shrugged. "I would have
asked, but you were busy."
    * * *
    Some miles further on, the women found themselves
galloping over hill and dale. The warm wind combed Svana's golden
hair while Rosamunda's dark locks thrashed behind her back like a
furious whip. Again, the princess ached with delight each time her
pussy fell hard against Falada's broad back. Every beat was a
spanking against her naughty little lips, and she could feel the
wetness developing once again between her thighs. Oh, the pleasure
was too much to bear.
    Bringing the horse to a halt on a grassy
plateau, Svana turned again to rugged Rosamunda. Svana had already
forgotten the girl's ill words of earlier that day.
    "Oh, my dearest Rosamunda," the princess
repeated. "Riding this way has my precious cavern desperate for .
gratification. I beseech you a thousand times over, dismount, and
take a drink from my cup."
    Rosamunda's resistance wore away a touch.
"If I do dismount and drink from your cup, what will you do for me?
After all, I don't choose to be your maid."
    The day was warm, the sun scorching the
hilltop, and Svana knew her maid must be thirsty once more. "I will
let you drink from my golden cup afterwards. You may fill it with
spring water as many times as you wish, if only you will do me this
one kind favor."
    "It's not a great offer." Rosamunda
considered, "But what the hell? Not much else to do up here."
    After dismounting from their horses, the
women tumbled onto the green grass. Giggling, Svana rolled onto her
back while Rosamunda pushed up her many skirts.
    "Why, the bush down here is dark as night!
How is that, when your hair is light as gold?" Rosamunda asked.
    "I bleach my locks, okay?"
Svana wrapped her legs around Rosamunda's shoulders as the maid
looked up at her inquisitively. "Hey, don't judge me. You try being a princess
with mousy brown hair. It just doesn't work. If you're going to be
loved and adored by your subjects, you have to be blonde. Gentlemen
prefer it."
    "All right! Don't have a stroke." Rosamunda
obviously hadn't anticipated an ambush in the bush. "I will do as
you wish."
    And so, no stranger to country ways, the
maid-in-waiting nuzzled the Svana's tumescent clit with her wide
nose, pressing against it as she licked Svana's hole. Her gaping
cunt growled, heavy with hunger as she giggled in delight, tossing
and turning in the grass. Every so often, she leaned forward to
watch. The waiting-made was not attractive in any conventional
sense, but her hard, mannish face had its own allure.
    Rosamunda set her tongue flat and firm
against Svana’s cunt, and licked the juicy folds like a hungry
beast. What refreshment the maid must find in those tangy waters!
The sweet and heavy smell of her sopping pussy made Svana’s senses
soar. Was there anything better in all the world than being
consumed by a bold and hearty woman who was not bound by decency,
rank and propriety?
    When Rosamunda thrust two fingers into
Svana’s ready hole, she reveled in the sensation. She was a lucky
princess indeed to have a waiting-maid with such stupendously large
digits. Svana dug into her corset of red and gold in search of hard
nipples to squeeze. Her buds were rosy even as she secured them.
When she brought them out into the sunshine and pressed them
between her fingers and thumbs, a bolt like lightning

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