Lessons In Love (Game Of Thrones)

“Is that a fake penis?” Arya asked, those words causing Sansa to freeze instantly as she heard them. She didn’t even look around behind her, knowing exactly what she would see if she did. The situation was hardly favourable for her and had she only bothered to lock the door to her chambers, she would be submerged in sumptuous bliss. However, in her haste for satisfaction, she left the door ajar and the wandering eyes of her younger sister found themselves latched onto Sansa’s plump and entirely exposed rear end, perfectly framed by the crack in the door.

            As for her reaction to the sight, Sansa was a little startled. Arya’s eyes were drawn to the object on the redhead’s desk, to the left of where the older sibling was standing. And it was in fact, as she described, a fake replica of a nine-inch wooden cock, varnished and polished to a glorious glimmer. As to why she had such an object, there was a story to tell. When the Royal Caravan had arrived in Winterfell, the badly kept secret of the proposed marriage spread through the castle like wild-fire, and with Sansa’s heart set aflutter, she found herself in a precarious position.

            Whispers amongst the ladies of the castle, to whom gossip was their only past-time, spoke of Sansa’s innocence and her virginity. Sure, it was custom for a lady to retain her maidenhead until the marriage bed, but the rumours down south were that Lord’s favoured an experienced girl to a barely broken horse. Naïve and worried, Sansa was left at a loss. Finally, she ventured into the seedier part of town, her hood kept pulled over her head. Finding an obscure stall, recommended by Jeyne, she found what she was looking for. Hurriedly, she bought the toy and returned to the castle, hiding it away in a chest, afraid to even entertain the notion of experimenting.

            For several days the most she did was peel back the cloth that was hiding it, only going so far as to run a finger along its length before ducking away, her undergarments growing slicker as her arousal grew between her legs. Finally, she found the courage. Locking her door and stripping down, her young supple body hugged by the warm air in her fireplace. Her breasts were round and budding, bouncing softly with her steps, capped of by erect, pink little nipples. Her bum was similar, with a bounce and jiggle that was delightfully perfect. And her pussy was obscured by a thin layer of fiery red hair, untamed, but not overgrown.

            Taking the toy in her hands, she lay down on her bed, throwing back the many rugs and furs and getting comfortable. Tentatively, she ran the tip down against her folds, her breath almost catching in her throat as she felt it glide across her slit. With a little effort, she found her untouched and unbelievably tight entrance. Wriggling it back and forth, she eased it in her eyes bulging and her breath growing ragged. Gasping, she found herself unable to stop, gently dipping more and more inside her, her breath bursting through her chest as she watched her slick pussy envelop the toy. Inch after inch disappeared inside her, until her fingers held the very end of the toy, her digits coated in a thin gloss. Her body shuddered and her core spasmed, the toy pulling itself out as she writhed for a moment in glorious pleasure. The young Stark girl had her first orgasm. And was hooked…

            Every night became an adventure for the girl. Rushing back to her chambers, she’d drop her clothes and seek out her precious toy, keeping it wrapped delicately and eventually keeping it in an ornate wood box on her mantle. She’d lay on the bed and pierce herself on the toy, growing accustomed to its soft weight and the way it stretched her pussy. Over time she found herself taking it with ease, her hand growing faster and quicker, fucking herself with increased fervour in an attempt to experiment, to learn, and to find that next moment of sublime pleasure. Eventually, she ventured from her bed, toying with new positions. She used her chair, slinging a leg up on her desk. Up against the wall, even being so bold as to peer out a window as she slipped it in and out.

            Weeks went by as her fantasies grew wilder, the toy belonging to Knights and Lords alike. She pictured the bold and noble men of her childhood fantasies, throwing aside the fairy-tale whimsy and taking her as a woman, rough and hard. She imagined the crashing of flesh, the weight of someone pounding her tight little hole. The desire to feel that raw powerful experience, but every time she debated going and searching for such a thrill, she was reminded of the fact that her first time belonged to her beloved Prince Joffrey. And even as the urge built in her, she quelled herself with fantasies of the sensual night of loving bliss that awaited her down south. It was that particular fantasy the caught her unawares, standing entirely naked at the mercy of her sister.

            “You have one of them? I’ve seen some of the servant girls talking about, them but I didn’t think my own sister would have one of them. Have you used it?” Arya asked, ignoring Sansa’s nudity and barging into the room. Lunging out of the way, Sansa grabbed a fur rug from her bed, hiding her naked body in shame, but inadvertently allowing Arya the chance to grab the toy, rubbing her hands up and down it in admiration.

            “Arya! Put it down!” Sansa screeched, reaching a hand out to grab the toy, but accidently dropping the rug, revealing her breasts. Fumbling around, she barely noticed Arya’s mocking sniggers as she wiggled the wooden cock back and forth.

            “Does father know you have this? Does mother know? Oh… How did you even get it?” Arya chided, tracing a finger across the delicately carven tip, gently rubbing the length with a perverse and curious glee. Sansa hid her naked body and blushed heavily.

            “No. Its… Can you just put it down and leave? How do you even know what that is? As if you even care about what that is. I’m surprised you even know what a penis is,” Sansa retorted, securing the rug before lunging to grab the toy.

            “I know what a penis is. I’ve seen dozens of them. I watch the servant boys down by the river when they wash. I’ve seen a bigger one than this,” Arya said defiantly, jumping to one-side and out of the reach of her sister, keeping the toy hidden behind her back.

            “You are so disgusting! Now give it back!” Sansa snapped, watching as Arya ran around her, playfully slapping the redhead’s ass as she did so, giggling as she darted towards the door, the toy in her hand,” Don’t you dare. Arya!”
            “What? Disappointed you won’t get to fantasise about your precious Prince Joffrey? There is no way his is anything like this,” Arya smirked, wiggling the toy at Sansa as the older girl slowly advanced on her, trying to avoid being seen by anyone walking by.

            “You take that back. Joffrey’s is bigger than anything you’ll ever get,” Sansa growled, eliciting a giggle from Arya, who wasted no time and turned on the spot, sprinting through the castle with the toy in hand, “Arya! By the… Arya!”

            Hurrying to the door, Sansa did her best to keep herself covered, watching as Arya disappeared round the corner. Panicking, she toyed with getting dressed, but foolishly ran after the young girl, clutching the furs to her body, trying to hide her modesty as she peered around every corner. Slinking through the castle, she followed Arya’s footsteps around to one of the back courtyards in which they kept the wood. Not daring to walk out onto the chilling thin layer of snow, she looked around for Arya, cursing beneath her breath.

            Suddenly, she felt the furs get wrenched from her grasp and someone push her forwards. Staggering naked into the courtyard, Sansa screeched, turning and running back into cover where she found her sister keeled over, howling with laughter, “That is not funny. Now give me back my toy. And the furs. It’s dreadfully cold.”

            “Your face! And I haven’t had a shot yet,” Arya commented, sliding up onto her feet and holding the toy in her fingers. Unashamedly, the young girl hooked her fingers into her trousers, pulling them down and laying them to one side. Doing the same with her top, she let her naked body feel the cool brush of air, before laying down on Sansa’s furs. Averting her eyes, Sansa turned away, completely embarrassed by her sister’s lack of modesty.

            “Have you no shame? What if someone sees you?” Sansa breathed, unable to avoid the girl’s gaze entirely. Glancing briefly down at Arya, she saw the young girl’s naked and surprisingly plump body. Sure, her breasts were half the size of her own, but she was hardly the flat-chested sexless urchin she had thought. Her pussy was either entirely shaven or simply lacking in hair, with her folds glistening as she threaded her fingers through them, rubbing herself with a degree of experience; a degree of experience that would make even the sexual prolific Sansa blush. It was safe to say they had blossomed at different ages.

            “They are more likely to see you. You’re the one standing in the open. Get in here. This nook is big enough for the two of us,” Arya moaned, using the piles of wood as a crude pillow as she played with herself, easily finding her clitoris and massaging the bud. Her soft delicate moans made Sansa’s skin crawl. Or tingle. She really didn’t know. It was either the cold air bringing goosebumps or some perverse natural arousal. Either way, her sisters nudity was sickening. Or indulgent…

            “There is barely enough room in there for you. And don’t you dare tell me you are about to use my…” Sansa began as she slipped into the small nook, her feet pressing against Arya’s belly as she unwittingly placed herself above her sister’s head, giving the younger sibling a clear look at her glistening folds.

            “Are you going to stop me?” Arya smirked, lowering the toy along her stomach. Sansa leant down to try and rip it away, but Arya simply lowered it swifter, running the tip along her slit and moaning happily. Recoiling, Sansa still couldn’t tear her eyes away despite her mind telling her to do so. She had watched the fake toy enter herself so many times, but to see it pierce Arya’s pussy, the tip building pressure at her hole, her folds bulging outwards, spreading to accommodate the thick length. Her hand wanted to bury itself between her own folds, but she hesitated, enthralled by the sight of Arya’s pussy readying to swallow the cock. She was so consumed, she didn’t feel the gentle massage of Arya’s fingers against her foot, dancing higher up.

            “I can’t believe you’re doing this in front of me. And in public no less,” Sansa breathed, her severity faked, her words hollow. Arya simply chuckled, watching her sister’s listless eyes. Smirking, Arya pushed the toy inside her, watching Sansa as she breathed sharply inwards in response. Letting her fingers glide higher, Arya gently massaged Sansa’s calves, easing more of the toy inside her. Her moans became exaggerated, but only slightly. She had a cavalcade of new pleasures rippling through her quim, ones that far outdid that of her fingers. The naughtiness of her sister having such a perverse toy dissipated into a carnal understanding and a sympathetic need for one of her own.

            “You know, lots of women do things with each other. Lots of fancy lords at the brothels pay good money to watch. I bet it’s all the rage down south,” Arya commented, watching Sansa’s face barely even flinch at the idea, instead watching Arya’s hand as she sank the last few inches inside herself. Slowly, she began to fuck herself, knowing the pace and rhythm that she liked. Slow and methodical, building as she became hornier and hornier. Her nipples were rock hard and tingling from the simple passing breeze, “Haven’t you ever been curious? What if Joffrey wants it?”

            “Well…” Sansa breathed, feeling Arya’s fingers slide up to her thigh. She offered the young a brief glance but didn’t move to push her away. Taking that as a sign, Arya practically leapt towards Sansa. The toy slipped from between her folds as the younger girl attacked the redhead with sexual fervour. Her hands wrapped around Sansa’s waist grabbing her arse cheeks and pulling her crotch towards her lips. Her tongue plunged through Sansa’s nest of hair and found her labia, exploring her many folds and silencing Sansa’s outcry. She moved to push her away, but stopped, instead letting her hands rest on Arya’s head, guiding her as best she could as she leant back against the wall.

            Jealousy is often born of infatuation. And whilst Arya despised the prim and proper presentation of her sister, that did nothing to limit her late-night fantasies of curling up next to her, their hands roaming each other’s bodies. Her defiant confession of watching the boys at the stream was one born of panic. Panic that he true loves of life would be revealed. A wooden cock was about as close as she was inclined. But the sumptuously slick folds of her sister’s glistening quim? There was something she could love.

            Her hand clawed at Sansa’s ass, pulling at the mounds of soft flesh, lapping and licking at her hole. She flicked her tongue a couple times across her clit, before gliding downwards and eagerly plunging her tongue deep into the redhead. Every thought of how perverse this was, was immediately quenched by a new spasm of pleasure in her loins. Arya’s tongue knew her body and knew the buttons to push. Everytime she was tempted to push her away, she slipped into a new crevice, a new space of pleasure. It was like that first night with her toy all over again. The blinding, rippling, unending spasms of pleasure.

            And whilst the look of her naked sister had disgusted her only moments before, she found herself unable to take her eyes away from her. Whether it was the way her back curved into her arse, or the tiny glimpses of her budding breasts, she found herself infatuated with the sight between her legs. And then their eyes met. Staring at one another, the disdain bled away. Watching her sister’s lips at work between her thighs, her tongue attacking her pussy and licking her in the most intense way, Sansa felt a twinge in her stomach. One that went beyond physical pleasure. Arya watched her sister’s cheeks hollow as she moaned, her face bright red as her hands brushed her hair from her eyes. It was a peculiar thing to call love, but love it was nonetheless.

            Reinvigorating herself, Arya drew one of her hands away from Sansa’s rear and brought it up between Sansa’s thighs, wriggling the tip into place between her folds. Slipping it inside, she felt her hole cling and clutch to the digit, her body spasming and twitching towards and orgasm. Moans poured from both their mouths, as their bodies grew a thin iridescent layer of sweat, their thighs growing slicker by the second. Arya’s quim was twitching and tingling between her legs, but she dared not sneak a moment to herself, craving the orgasm of her sister. Wanting her to writhe beneath her fingers, spasm against her tongue.

            That end came quicker than she would have imagined, with Sansa’s moans growing in pitch, her shriek stifled by her own hand as she groaned. She pushed Arya’s face away from her pussy, hoping to lessen the sheer intensity, but the young girl didn’t allow it, doubling her efforts in search of the pleasurable screech. It didn’t come. But the way Sansa’s lips and face contorted, her breasts rising and falling, that was reward enough. With one last taste of the redhead’s quim, she pulled away, rising to her feet and once again being flung into a moment of passion.

            This time it was shared, the two sisters grabbing one another, letting their lips collide, pressing against one another’s as they pulled each other deeper into a kiss. Their tongues burst into one another’s mouth, Sansa moaning at the taste of herself. Grabbing and fondling each other, they both realised at the same moment, pushing away from one another, a lusty stare lingering between them, but a twinge of nerves. Arya was the first one to bow her head, worried she had overextended. Leaning down, she grabbed her clothes, lingering a moment as her hand glanced over the toy, still slick with her own juices, “Erm… well… I’m… I’m going to borrow this for this evening. You could… could get it back tomorrow? Or… well… You could get it right after I’m done? Right after? Or… you could… could come with me? No. I’ll just… I’ll just… I’ll leave the door unlocked?”

            Those were the only words, but they were words enough. Neither one would admit it. Not in word form at least. That look between them was something however. And as Arya turned and ran away, Sansa’s eyes lingered on the girl’s bouncing bum. And whilst the words would never be spoken, the phrase never uttered. Their actions would speak volumes. For whilst Sansa desperately needed to dress, it was not to her own quarters that she retreated, but to her sisters. And what started out as a secretive purchase born of shame, became a shared commodity. And never again was it ever used in sheltered chambers by only a single person. For two is a far more fitting use for such a toy.

Credits:

Image Creator: FreelancerFakes44 (http://freelancerfakes44.blogspot.com/)