Goldilocks – Part 4

A Naughty Treasury of Classic Fairy Tales. Goldilocks – Part 4

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4


In response to his own question, the groom sank to the floor, whilst deftly prostrating Goldilocks so that she should not loosen her mouth from his cock, and forthwith reversed position and sank his head in the pretty girl’s dampening crotch.

Goldilocks convulsed and shuddered at first touch of the groom’s tongue in her twat… and then fitfully rotated her ass in ecstatic agony as his tongue and teeth found her erectile and nibbled hungrily at it. She sucked savagely of the cock, pumping near the full length to and fro in her mouth, tasting of its early juices…

The lovely bride regained her senses sufficient to break into tears. And the good friar was there to comfort her. “There, there, my child,” he consoled, “we must learn to be tolerant and understanding of unforeseen developments along life’s pathway.”

The good friar thereupon produced a goblet, which he filled to the brim from a flagon of holy wine, and bade the distraught bride down it quickly. This she did, between heartbreaking sobs of remorse. And then another, and yet another.

“There, there, don’t we feel better now, my child?” purred the good friar, and his comforting arm slipped from the lovely girl’s shoulders and comfortingly caressed a full, firm breast.

“M-m-much b-b-better,” the bride smiled weakly. “Should I — oops! — you t-tweaked my — another?”

“By all means,” smiled the good friar, tweaking the other breast. ” Tis holy, you know.” His hands now unabashedly caressed and squeezed the bride’s breastworks at will.

“I knowest all about holey,” said the bride. “Goldilocks is holey and my groom art in it!”

Forsooth. Goldilocks and the bridegroom were frantically fucking up a storm, with the pretty, flaxen-haired angel tasting the first exhilaration of aggressive copulation. Her trim, perfectly-proportioned ass was a veritable cauldron of frenetic motion, grinding, writhing, screwing, plunging…

“Goldilocks art my sweetes’ and very best friend,” said the lovely stupefied bride, pulling the ribbon of her bodice so that her voluptuous breasts fell naked to the friar. “Goddam fucking cocksucking cunt. No moral tone!”

The poor distressed bride downed another healthy draught and diverted her attention to the feasting friar, saying tearfully: “Dost thou knowest this woe-forsaken body beautiful has ne’er lain upon a love pallet? Please, good friar, kind sir, do not move around so when I art speaking with thee. ‘Tis a fact which I find hard t’b’lieve. I knowest all the pangs yet have I not felt the pricks. What the fuck kind of a fucking deal is that?”

The bride, of a sudden, was keenly aware of hot flashes parading through her body. In truth, the good friar was part responsible, as he suckled lasciviously of the defenseless girl’s left breast. But there appeared a kindred brother who took to suckling the poor girl’s right tit!

And, looking down, the bride espied a third brother nibbling lustily at her cunt. “HALLLLOOOO, down there!” called the delighted bride. “What art we having, a party? Wheeee-e-e, I love parties!”

‘Twas a good thing she did, too, for in short order the lovely, forsaken virgin bride was having a bang-up party!

Goldilocks, too, was having a party, and hers had started some earlier. Once the sticky facade of propriety had eroded, a few intrepid souls came to the realization that the wedding could as easily become a participating sport, and they forthwith cast off their green hunter tights and launched into the fucking fray.

And in a trice, Goldilocks had all the cock she could possibly manage, and orgasm heaped upon frenzied orgasm. Through senses grown numb with super-heightened exhilaration, the golden-haired beauty heard the bride cry out: “Everybody come to the party!”

And everybody needed no second invitation! Cocks leaped to full erection like crocuses in Spring… Pussies blossomed with the suddenness of a full-scale lemming invasion…

By and by, the little chapel in the green dell in the deep woods was a FUCKING CIRCUS!

Goldilocks had come on time, after all. In truth, the pretty girl lost count of how many times she came on time.

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