Sansa
As Sansa made her way down to the gods wood she remember the night the Hound had kissed her before the war ended. He was no real knight she told herself. He was not thinking of you fully. He made me sing like a bird and worst he was drunk. Even thought she couldn't taste it she smelled his breath.
Even so when he went down between her legs and his whiskers scratch between her thighs she almost fainted. He's bad. Yet his tongue in her felt so good. The way his thumb would message her cilturis. For a man so veil and rugged and forceful. She had never remembered being treated any sweater. To her dismay he moved his attention from Sansa's cunt to her arse. Dancing his tongue around the rim of her hole. Every part of her shacked when his finger went in her rear. Causing her to bulk and shiver. She was half conscious after that.
Then the Hound came up to her face; he and the space between her legs had somehow gotten wet somehow. If she hadn't been so weak she would have striped him naked. If he refused, then the songs shall sing of Sansa the first woman to rape a King's Knight. But all he did was pet her and drop some yellow flowers by her head.
"If he every takes you and you'd wish not to have child. Shove half of on flower between your legs, or drink some in tea." He's breath was cold compared to the fire between her legs. He laughed. "Now, little bird can you sing me a song. One of a brave night bedding a princess with the lord's kiss before her betrothed king." The song rang in her head. Shove your cock in me. Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me. NOW! But a last she was to weak to talk. With another lord's kiss, he left. And she slept, dreaming of his manhood.
But that was then, She thought. Now tonight she would pray to the warrior tonight. In hope he would bring the Hound back so he may kiss her again. Afterward she would pray for her family. And for Lord Tryion how still laid dead in his sleep like her young brother, Bran Stark. As she made her way toward the heart tree when she heard a woman's scream.
Sansa rushed to see who it was. What she saw was three, half clothed, men on top of a woman. The lady was wearing a golden dress. That had been thrown to the side of the tree. Both men who were thrusting into her, from both ends of her body, dressed in common silk. The third man how was being pleased by the lady's hand, he was certainly a commoner. He clothing was poorly made and looked as thought stained by dirt.
The peasant was dark of skin, black of hair, with bald head and moan in a soft voice Sansa had never heard before. Yet the other to sounded familiar Sansa stepped forward to get a better look. A branch snapped and the tall dark man turned to her, but trees where nearby and she hind just in time. "Who's there!" yelled the dark man.
"No one but squirrels. Now be quiet or you'll wake the castle " a man responded in a voice Sansa remember. He was Ser Osfryd Kettleblack, and with another man his brother, Ser Osney Kettleblack. Sansa shifted forward in closer, as the woman's moans grew louder.