My youthful dreams of stalwart heroes fighting to defend me and then claiming me as their prize never once included getting my pussy licked in front of everyone or an orgy. I had also never actually thought that it would ever happen. Happen, it did and it just adds to the complexity that is the soap opera of my life.

For those of you just tuning in, I’ve been involved in an off-again, on-again, complicated relationship that I seem to have been determined to destroy from the very start. It is convoluted, dramatic, and has been a roller-coaster of emotional and sexual highs and depressing emotional lows. While I’ve written at length about certain important events, it would be better to summarize. This is my prelude and hopefully fills in some of the blanks from my previous writings. The naughty fun comes after this.

I’m just now into my wild and experimental phase. This is because I married young, beginning my pattern of terrible life decisions. I then divorced and plunged myself into one terrible relationship choice after another. I’m also highly sexual with a penchant for exhibitionism and voyeurism.

Everything started with my friend and coworker, Marcy. She is cute, sexy in her own way, but extremely introverted and shy, especially around men. We had a somewhat regular customer named Jake who would come in at least once a week and purchase fantasy novels or books on medieval history. Marcy was attracted to him but too shy to say or do anything about it. Jake was obviously carrying a torch for Marcy but she was either too dense or too timid to either notice or to do anything about it.

He would practically ignore me when he came in and always tried to start up a conversation with Marcy. After weeks of this they finally had enough of a conversation that he was able to mention that he was really into fantasy literature and was a part of a group that put on the local Renaissance Fairs. She seemed impressed and even I had to admit to myself that it sounded like some geeky fun. I’m also a hopeful romantic and I adore swords and sorcery stuff.

The next day Jake came back in and handed Marcy two tickets to the festival. He told her that the tickets were for her and her boyfriend. When Marcy blurted out that she didn’t have a boyfriend, Jake’s eyes lit up like he had won the lottery. She begged me to go with her. I agreed to go for three reasons. It sounded like fun, I figured that Marcy would be too shy to actually get to know Jake even though the mutual attraction seemed obvious to me, and I was already thinking that it might be fun to dress to tease and “accidentally” flash some lucky, unsuspecting cosplay geeks.

When the day came I wore a white medieval-looking blouse with front ties rather than buttons and a green skirt with a ruffled hem. Other than comfortable sandals, the only other thing I wore was a long red sash wound several times around my waist. As it turned out, I was way overdressed! With women running around in chainmail bikinis and guys strutting about in leather loincloths, not to mention the incredibly sexy, cleavage-revealing medieval dresses, I was dressed quite conservatively. Knotting my skirt way up high on my thigh and loosening the ties of my blouse did wonders to help me fit in.

Jake found us after we were sightseeing for about an hour. Marcy hid behind me and I had to take the reins and practically force her upon him. She shot me murderous glances until they strolled off together, arm in arm. My good deed done for the day, I went off alone to take in the attractions and to perhaps give myself some cheap thrills by showing off my bare pussy or bending over too far forward to get a rise out of onlookers.

I took in the attractions, eventually finding myself near the area where the knights were fighting. I had thought it would be exciting to watch. It mostly wasn’t. All of the knights were cut from the same cloth. They wore shining metal, with plumes on their helmets, and they all fought more or less the same. It was far from the exciting action of Hollywood. They would enter the “arena” from opposite sides of the field, bow to each other, wave at the crowd once or twice, and then swing weapons at each other until one of them surrendered.

The arena was little more than a rectangular area, a few dozen yards across in either direction, with hay bales placed intermittently around the perimeter. Some observers sat on the bales, most of them stood behind them. I found myself in the space in between two of the bales. I didn’t want to sit on them because if you’ve ever sat on straw in a thin skirt without panties you know that the ends poke you hard and hurt.

I decided that it was time to discreetly have some naughty fun. I propped up on a hay bale which let the knotted high hem of my skirt fall open. I had myself primed to flash somebody. With my leg up and my skirt tied the way it was, I’d only need to turn my torso and move my knee a little. I looked around, mostly bored with the fighting knights, to find my “victim”.

But then he caught my eye. Unlike the other knights, he wore black suede leather armor with chrome rings sewn over the surface. He wore moccasins rather than the steel boots the others wore. His helmet was black and solid with a demon face for the front. He was also flashy and played up the crowd. He was actually exciting and interesting to watch. I also felt that he was a showboat and full of himself.

Rather than just wave at the crowd of onlookers he ran around the entire perimeter kissing women’s hands, high-fiving the men, and letting the few children around hit him with his own sword. It seemed as if he were having the time of his life. As he drew near I noticed how handsome he was in a roguish sort of way. He had long fine hair that swayed with his movements, elfin features with high and well-pronounced cheek bones, slightly pouting lips, and hazel eyes that were rimmed with gray.

What really drew me to him was the way he carried himself. His carriage exuded confidence, mirth, and a genuine zeal for life. When he came near to me he brazenly looked me up and down and smiled with delight. Somehow it was as if he saw into my soul and loved what he had discovered. I’ve heard the term “eye fucking” before; that’s what he did. He seduced me with his glance and I felt it. Despite my initial impression that he was arrogant and a showoff, I became mesmerized by his style.

I forgot all about showing off my body to random strangers and turned my torso to watch him. I half-hoped that he’d get pummeled. It slipped my mind entirely that the way I was turned left my bare pussy exposed. During his fight he was thrown across the arena and rolled to stop under my propped up leg. He laid there on the ground, staring directly at my exposed pussy. At first, I thought he might have been injured or something. He pulled off his helmet and just lay there, smiling up at my nudity.

“Are you alright?” I asked him out of genuine concern.

He just smiled up at me and laughed, staring right at my nude pussy once more. “It was worth it!”

I then remembered that from his point of view, there on the ground, that he had a direct line of sight between my legs.

“Do you like what you see?” I spewed out. It wasn’t that I minded so much that he was staring up at my pussy; it was the fact that he was so brazen about it.

He jumped up with a damaged piece of his arm armor flapping about loosely. “Paradise,” he smiled out to me.

Then he just reached around my body and stripped me of the red sash I was wearing. He didn’t even ask! He was bold, brazen, and arrogant. However there was just some “all in fun” quality about his behavior and attitude that was instantly endearing. My mind went into overdrive; my body reeled with turbo-charged lust. His eyes were hypnotic and his touch, as he unwound the sash from my waist, sent electrical jolts into my flesh.

I just stood there as he brazenly partially undressed me. Then I felt something. It was an animal lust. He wound my sash around his broken armor, securing the flapping plate and then he reached out and gently ran his hand over my cheek. I was half fuming over his brazen actions and obvious delight at gazing at my bare pussy, half boiling over the sexual effect he had on me. He thanked me for the “loan” of my sash and promised that he’d return it.

“I have seen paradise,” he screamed out to the crowd, stopping to wink at me. I blushed in an odd mix of sexual and angered heats. He donned his helmet and waded out to fight, wearing my red sash around his arm. The nerve!

I was so miffed at him that I just watched him and fumed. He just didn’t act how he was supposed to. Guys are supposed to be stunned and blown away when I’m naughty, not take it in stride and make me want them! I nicknamed him rock-star knight. I was also extremely physically drawn to him. It was as if he somehow knew exactly what to do, how to touch me, what tone and expressions to use, and how to put my lust into overdrive without ever once seeming as if he was trying to impress or seduce me.

I watched him fight, ruminating over him calling the view between my legs “paradise” and then announcing it to the crowd. I then began to laugh about it. This guy was many things, including bold. As I watched him I got the impression that his behavior wasn’t an act. Some instinct told me that he was really like that. He was also extremely entertaining to watch. The others pretty much just stood toe-to-toe and duked it out. He danced around them and dazzled them with his speed. He taunted his opponent that towered over him. He’d move out of the way of a powerful blow at the last instant and then spin around them slapping them on the butt with the flat of his sword. As I mentioned before, I simultaneously wanted to punch him in the face and sit on his face.

That was how Glade and I met. He sought me out afterward but didn’t return my sash. It had become dirty and frayed. He promised to buy me a new belt and simply said “come with me.”

I outwardly tried to resist him. I was even a bitch to him. He either didn’t notice or outright ignored my bitchiness. I quickly discovered that he was also intelligent, full of humor, charming, and overtly sexual on top of everything else. I immediately fell under his spell. I’d insult him and he’d laugh with delight, sometimes even adding to it in self-depreciating debasement. He was, for real, at least to me, the proverbial bad-boy rogue with a heart of gold and a smile on his lips; a perfectly crooked smile that made my pussy gush. He had a confident ease about him, among other heart-melting traits. It was also infectious.

He led me to a booth that sold leather goods all the way across the fairgrounds. While we walked I found myself becoming captivated by his personality. Not only did everyone seem to know him and like him; he was just so naturally and instinctively perfect. He also had an amazing body! He was well-muscled without being a body builder type. He was built more like an athlete or a martial artist. I tried to dislike him but couldn’t help myself. I wanted him. The booth he led me to was operated by Kiera.

Kiera ran up to him and kissed him when she saw us. She took an instant liking to me and almost instantly seemed to know everything about me. Her merchant booth sold all sorts of leather goods, including belts. I took an immediate liking to her and found myself marveling over her blatant and raw sexuality. There was an immediate kinship between us. I immediately envied her confidence, poise, and incredible body.

In the few months I’ve known her she’s had three different hair colors. To put it simply, she’s a sex goddess. If you’ve ever met a woman that instantly makes you think she wants sex, is thinking about sex, loves sex, and wants to have sex with you, that’s Kiera. She has no inhibitions and takes the entire “free love” mentality to new heights. She even makes her living in the sexual industries. Kiera isn’t all about sex, but it does dominate her exterior personality. If it is wild, kinky, perverted, or taboo she’d either be the first in line or the one that thought it up. On top of that, she is one of the sweetest, most insightful, and giving people I’ve ever met.

She and Glade are very, very close. Their story is tragic, romantic, sweet, depressing, endearing, and tear-inducing. It is not my purview to air their dirty laundry; their story is not mine to tell. I can only say that they share a bond that he and I will probably never have. It complicates things from my point of view. She is also heavily into the sexual D&S scene, which I later discovered to my multi-orgasmic delight.

The first evening I spent with Glade, I was indoctrinated into his group of medieval enthusiasts. They have their own counter-culture and are very close-knit. In their world, everything, except non-consent and dishonor, is permitted. I mean everything! On that first night, I got caught up in the party atmosphere and ended up masturbating for him in front of several people. The permissiveness of everyone was amazing. It was a totally judgment-free zone.

In the weeks that followed I found myself gushing over Glade and becoming entrenched in his fantasy-world. I fought my feelings for him because I knew that we couldn’t be together long-term. The group was fun, interesting, and unique. I also met another new friend, Sylva. Sylva is a young woman of twenty-two with bleached blond hair that often wears too much makeup. She is outgoing and just getting into her sexual experimentation phase.

When I first met her she was chained to my lover at one of their private events. I was starting to become jealous of all the attention the other women were lavishing upon “my man”, so my first reaction was an almost overwhelming desire to claw out her eyes. However I quickly warmed up to her and we became fast friends, with benefits as well. Her persona is a dancer and she also makes costumes for the group and for special order.

Still I denied my true feelings for Glade, despite the fact that I was spending every spare second with him. Each and every man or woman that I’ve been with was really into my wild-streak at first but then always tried to tame me. Rather than talk it out with him, I started testing him by becoming more wanton and sexual. I knew he’d break and then I could end it cleanly. He didn’t break. He loved my torrid confessions and actions even to the point of setting up the fulfillment of a bondage-nurse fantasy an online friend sparked.

No matter what I did or with whom I did it, he was fully appreciative and supportive. I just couldn’t rattle him.

Go out with him and flash everyone? He’s all for it.

Have a random checkout girl insert my first-ever butt plug? No problem.

Have the clothing store attendant cum on me? He liked it.

Flash my nude ass to the patrons of a strip club? He admires my boldness.

Have Kiera dress up like a nurse, tie me over my own table, and whip me with a riding crop? He set it up!

Take two guys into the woods while I’m, waiting for him to show up and have them fuck me and cum on my ass and tits? He watched and got off on it.

But it wasn’t just the amazing sex and the wild adventures. There was something else going on. It was tearing my heart into pieces. I convinced myself that he and I were destined for destruction. I kept telling myself that I wasn’t feeling for him emotionally. There was also that bond between him and Kiera. Rather than face my true feelings, I did everything I could to make things implode. The truth, and I can see it now, is that I was falling in love with him. I was so afraid of a repeat performance of all my previous relationships that I couldn’t face my feelings.

It all reached the boiling point over something silly within their group. In their particular group, they all assume an alter-ego of sorts; their persona. Glade’s persona is really just his natural self, which makes him an exception. Kiera’s is a seductress, the only difference being her name. These alter-egos are something that the group members have lovingly crafted and they take joy in playing their roles. In many ways I see their personas as their true selves if the constraints of modern society were removed.

But Glade has a rival, Sir Maris. Sir Maris isn’t actually disliked but he isn’t well-loved, either. I’ve heard many accounts of the source of their rivalry from Glade, Sylva, Kiera, and even their “king”—whose name is Tim—and they all vary. The only thing they all agree upon is that Maris always seems to have a bone to pick with my lover.

Maris challenged him to a battle to the “persona-death.” What this meant was that the loser had to forever stop playing their chosen role and choose a new one. In their group, it’s a huge deal. It is almost unheard of. It is the closest thing to an actual duel to the death that they have in their make-believe fantasy world.

Glade and Sir Maris fought that duel to the death. My lover was not only victorious but he spared Sir Maris his “life.” As silly as it sounds, this made a huge impression on everyone. It also solidified things in my tortured mind. Somehow his actions of chivalry forced my denied feelings to the surface.

In that moment, I realized that I had been fooling myself. I had fallen in love with him and I was still convinced that any future together would be doomed. Despite him being my ideal mate and the living epitome of all my masturbatory fantasies, I sensed that it was headed towards disaster.

In a tsunami of emotions, immediately after his bout, I ended things for us in front of everyone. I had to save him from me. It would have destroyed my heart to crush him with the disasters I make of everything. I then literally ran to my car and drove the three hours back home, crying all the way.

I sought solace in Captain Morgan and Rum Raisin ice cream. My new friend, Sylva, couldn’t bring me out of my depression. A wild night of Kiera picking out strangers to fuck, sometimes in public, helped but still didn’t console my heart. In my fear of this magical affair imploding, I had destroyed it.

Over the following week, I learned that Kiera had moved out and had gotten her own apartment and that Glade had challenged Sir Maris to a duel over an insult to my honor. Kiera and Sylva attempted to convince me to go, including a “private adult party” Kiera was throwing to celebrate splitting with her mate. I wanted it to not matter to me because I felt that I needed to stay as far away from him as I possibly could. That also meant that this amazing group of people should be forsaken.

“You have to go,” Sylva lamented. “Kiera is celebrating her unbinding and…”

“Unbinding?” I asked.

“Yes,” Sylva answered. “She got her own place and split with her mate.”

 “And she’s celebrating?” was all I managed. “I can’t go. You know that!”

“There’s more,” Sylva said sheepishly while avoiding my eyes. “It’s about you. There’s a duel.”

I answered very intelligently. “Huh? Let me guess, Glade is fighting another duel, like always. He’s such a child! What do you mean about me?”

“It’s over you,” she stated slowly. “Maris insulted your honor and Glade challenged him to a duel to defend your honor.”

“Really? Maris, again? Here’s what I think. I think those two should move in together and get ‘his and his’ towels! I’m done with him; I’m done with the group. I’m not going and that’s final!”

Two days later, I was driving halfway across the state once more with Sylva beside me. She had made two costumes for me, a sultry wench dress in greens and a leather and fur loincloth bikini-halter sort of barbarian outfit. She also burned a Hair Metal CD and brought a can of fix-a-flat, just in case. I must confess that I was very nervous about seeing Glade again, especially in his element. However, I wasn’t fooling myself this time.

What follows is how I spent my weekend, the duel over my honor, the debauchery that ensued, and my discovery that Sylva and Kiera were the evil masterminds that orchestrated everything so that Glade and I would end up together.