Roman
"Ahh," Roman said, feeling the tender but firm squeeze of Valarie. The now almost completely full shaft flopped as it emerged from the underwear. He stood up, stepping out of the underwear as he watched her shift through the drawers. Of course, his eyes were stuck on her large plump ass, bent over perfectly for him to gawk at. He wasn't stupid. This was clearly a show, her hips wiggling in perfect sync with her tune. There was only one thing to do.
The young man stood up himself, walking over the best he could while wielding the monstrous sword between his legs. It stayed stiff and wouldn't relent even with the blood flowing to his legs. A hand came down on her right cheek, striking with the full force gifted by the night. He knew she wouldn't feel it, but he wanted to reaffirm it, the difference between them, especially if this collar was real.
"Then stop," he said, the tip of his naked head brushing against her pant leg. If there was one thing the king had shown him, it was that she was a sex fiend. If she really was telling the truth, she would stop teasing him here. Every fiber of his idiot male brain was screaming at him for uttering those words, but something inside him needed this more than the release, just to know if those words were true.