DISCLAIMER: this story is fiction and original. It is part of an on-going story with other chapters to be included. The characters are based on It is pure fantasy and it includes gay male erotica.
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- The Painter Saturninus
Master Saturninus' name was attached to the Temple's building. The painter, who already had quite a fame before the building was complete, rose to new highs with the help of Verge and Prosperus Mayfare. His raunchy art was already a secret pleasure among nobles but after it was given the right encouragement, it turned into the highest type of art and Saturninus' name was suddenly among the stars, forever bound to the history of humanity. The following are some of the adventures that inspired Master Saturninus while working on his masterpiece, the Temple at Castle Mayfare.
I
The early morning mist still held the inn's building hostage. It wasn't as cold as the previous weeks, but the fact the sun lingered hazed in the sky meant that the cold water in the bucket outside was colder than it should. All the better for the inn owner, a big woman with breasts that could feed a family of ten. Saturninus did believe the woman had more than ten chubby children running around anyway. Still, her strength always amazed him, especially early morning when his drunken ass needed to be dealt with. Her way was not so different from other unrespectable inns around the land: take the drunk ones and push their heads in the water bucket until some sense came into them.
Saturninus's sense came when his head was pushed a second time and he opened his eyes wide into that bucket, a chill running down his body as bubbles of air left his mouth and nose until he was pulled up once more, tripping on his own foot and falling on his ass on the wet dirt on the side of the inn.
"And it serves you right, milord."
Saturninus was no lord, but rumours had spread around that he had spent the last year in a Palace with a lady who was more fond of his fingers than his actual painting brush. Of course, outrageous rumours. The one Saturninus managed to conquer was the husband and the older son and the only reason his stay was cut short was because the lady was jealous of the attention he was getting. Well, that and the couple of shiny stuff that Saturninus would taken and hide in his bag.
Saturninus let himself fall back, laying on his back on the dirt, his eyes following the big fat ass covered by an old skirt as the inn owner went back inside. Two of her chubby children stood on top of him, laughing.
"Mind getting a good fella some ale?"
"Mama has said no ale for you, milord. Unless you show her the gold. Or work."
Saturninus groaned. The gold he had managed to carefully steal on his long stay at the Palace had been taken from him on his way out. All he had was the golden and silver coins the son had given him. It wasn't much and Saturninus should have felt guilty when the young lord told him that was part of his allowance, but truth be told, he rarely felt guilty anymore.
Gathering the bit of strength in his body, he got up, his feet dancing to a silent tune as he fought to get some balance, one hand stopping himself from falling by holding him to the wall. The cold water did clear his mind a bit, but he felt the headache pumping at the left side of his brain. Through the mist of his own mind an idea came creeping in. He was, after all, talented.
"Little chubby boys. Tell me, what if you go inside and tell your mama I can make a beautiful painting of the two of you – little chubby angels playing golden harps that she can..." He stopped as he watched another chubby one, this one old enough to be probably the oldest of all the offspring, arms crossed over his chest.
"Go on you two. I deal with this one."
Another groan escaped Saturninus as he stood up straight. He could always take one horse and go as far as the next village where his thirsty could be satisfied without the bother. As the two kids drift away, Saturninus raised his two hands, ready to defend his own. He was looking at the young, sturdy fella, but the young lad simply came to him, stopping only a few inches from the other.
"You didn't come up to the room. I waited there and when I came down to check, you were sleeping on the table. I tried to wake you up, but you were as limp as a..."
Saturninus put a finger on the boy's mouth, stopping him from continuing. "Now, my boy, it isn't polite to speak of a guest on such terms. Me? Limp?" Truth was, he didn't remember ever talking to the young lad. So he promised to skip into that chubby one's room for something? He was probably already counting his last coins yesterday, that must have been it.
"Milord, I had done everything you told me. Everything."
Saturninus looked at him, trying to remember all he had asked.
"My ass? I played with it and made it open enough for you."
"Oh, that. With your fingers?" Saturninus grin showed white teeth.
"And one of the broomsticks."
And he had lost that because of ale? Oh, so maybe he should have stopped drinking. That would be his doom in one point in the future. He made a mental bet with himself as he pointed a finger towards the young man's chest. If he accepted his next offer, he would keep himself away from anything that would make him this dizzy.
"What if you do it for me tonight? Again? I bet it was nice, wasn't it? So you do it again and you sleep with me tonight?"
"You mean you sleep with me!" The boy's cheek were red and his nose went up.
"Well, it is the same thing, no? Now, the broomstick, how did it really feel up there in your tiny bottom?"
The red color on the boy's cheeks spread all over. Flustered, he was looking left and right to make sure no one was listening to them.
"I liked it, sir. But I only imagine that your cock could do better."
"Well, boy." Saturninus let out a loud laugh, patting those red cheeks with his hand "You gotta wait tonight to see. But more, tell me more." If he was really limp yesterday, that was something that lasted just at his worst drunk state. Just the thought of that peasant with his big round ass stuffed with the broom stirred something in his old breaches.
"I laid in bed with legs up, milord. You told me on all fours was better but I just couldn't make the broom enter, so I tried laying on my back and with a lot of my spit and in it went." The young man's hand was on his crotch, playing with a hardening dick as he recalled the memories of last night. "But you never came... I stopped before I would explode and went looking for you."
"Well, you are a good boy." Saturninus stretched, his cock painfully hard right than, but more for a piss than anything else. Besides, he was sure that if the inn keeper caught him fucking one of her sons, he would regret it forever. "Don't forget it, hm? Tonight, all over again."
Saturninus moved away from the boy before he would decide to do anything worse that than promise. Going to the back of the inn, he found a big tree and leaned over it as he undid the ties of his breaches. His hard cock out, he let the yellow stream of piss come forth, sighing in relief as he leaned his head back and watched the blue skies over his head. The weather had improved and when the mists started to disappear, the heat of the day came forth. He finished pissing and shook the last few drops before putting his junk back in his trousers. With his hands free, he shook the remaining droplets out of his blond hair, adjusting the colorful cape he wore and moving out of the inn and into the village. His idea was to stretch his legs and maybe later sit by the main square and offer some quick sketch in exchange for a few coins. That always did work and with his bag empty of metal, he really thought it necessary to actually be a painter.
It was a small village and most of the people in it were used to him by then. This meant that some of the folks would pass him with their nose up in the air as if he smelt worse than some of them, while others just sat by for a chat while giving him some coppers in exchange for one of his more talented drawings, which generally meant naked ladies in lewd positions that the men were quick to push into their pockets before leaving him again.
It was late in the afternoon when he got up from his spot and passed by the bakery to get some of the rests of the day. Painting was not his only skill and while he did prefer the company of men, he was so good at making women believe in his interest for them that they were quick to do as he suggested. So he got quite a good warm breads that he ate while walking back to the inn.
As he crossed the front door, he could feel it on his dry tongue the need for ale. But he reminded himself of the promise he had made to the young man and he did need that free room, even if for one night, but hopefully for a couple more. He did imagine that the owners of the inn slept better than the guests. He was going to walk straight to one of the waiting rooms when he heard something that made him stop and turn his head towards the tables where a few men were already taking their drinks. It was something that the fat inn keeper was saying.
"Well, milord, truth be told, we do serve the best ale in the region. And even our good Frei Benito says our wine is as good as the Churches."
"I thank you, miss, but unfortunately we are in a hurry. My men are waiting me by the road and we must continue on our way. We only stop because we heard the painter Saturninus was staying here."
"Oh, that scoudrel. It is true, he was. But if I'm blessed, he has already parted."
"What makes you say th-" Another man's voice was raised but before he could finish with that question that could disrupt his chance, Saturninus stepped in.
"It is so unfair of you to speak of me like that, Marla. I only have given you love, haven't I? Who painted that? And that? What about your late husband's portrait?"
The inn keeper stood up straight immediately, her hands on her wide hips as she stared at him with a murderous intent.
"Well, milords, here he is." She waved a hand in the air. "If you'd be so kind, I'd ask only that you take him off. I need another year to make sure I gain what this one will not pain in coin."
Saturninus' eyes moved from her to the young man, sitting there in the wooden chairs in a coat that definitely smelt of nobility, with the golden and silver embroideries everywhere. He tried recognizing the shield, but it did skip him what that one meant.
The youngest got up and bent his back a little, hand behind his back. Saturninus copied the movement, but his eyes were on him the whole time. It was clear the lad was quite sturdy – he had big shoulders and a wide chest. The coat was open and he could see the shirt underneath holding tight to a body that was part big muscles and a part of fat. He had a black beard trimmed quite short, as was his black hair. The other thing that was proeminent was his ears – small, but quite loose. In another man, it would have made for quite an ugly specimen, but the young noble was dashing. His smile fitted him. It was kind and almost innocent. Saturninus could suddenly hear the river of coins he could get from that one.
"Are you the painter Saturninus?"
"Yes, I am."
The young lord made a sign to an empty chair by his side.
"I am Lord Prosperus Mayfare. And this one is my good companion, Caspar."
Saturninus bent his neck for the other one. He had salt and pepper hair and quite studying eyes. That one would definitely prove a complicated one if he was not into the services Saturninus could offer outside his usual profession.
"To what do I owe you the pleasure, Lord Prosperus?" The using of first name made the older companion's eyebrow move up, but Prosperus shot him another one of those warm smiles, so the painter knew they were good.
"I have seem some of your art before, Saturninus. And I would like to hire you for a very important service."
"My art?"
"I even bought one of your most recent paintings. I actually saved it from destruction back in the capitol. I must say your friends at the Church are at fault."
"Do I even have friends at the church?" He asked amused, which made the inn keeper, who still stood nearby, shot him another murderous look.
Prosperus, on the other hand, let out a loud laughter.
"I suppose the choices you make prove to them that you are definitely not a pious one."
"Are you a pious one, milord?"
Lord Prosperus shrugged the question and gave him a complicit smirk. "Not so much. But I do make my donations."
Saturninus nodded. He had been among nobles far too many times, most of them in secret. The Church held nobility hostage, at least to his eyes, but that didn't stop them from living according to the old costumes. The things he had been ordered to paint were far from pious. And not only of the sexual kind, but paintings that had the nobles receiving graces from the old Gods or the forest spirits. Lady Pompeos, from the far eastern land of Capilea, ordered a painting of her being graced by sea spirits who have always protected her castle. Saturninus wondered what kind of picture Lord Prosperus had salvaged in the capitol.
"Where would I work?" He asked bluntly.
"Castle Mayfare. But I must say I'm sorry for the so short notice. We must part immediately. I have business there that cannot wait much longer and your work is needed too. You will work with a team and part of this team is already doing their best efforts."
"I never did-"
"It is a small Temple I need you to paint. You will get pupils and enough money to make you a rich man." Those words were definitely attracting the inn keepers attention. "See, Saturninus, I have seen your art many times before and I know, with everything in me, that you are destined to put your name in History. And I am willing to give you the chance. The men I have found are willing to meet you. Don't make me disappoint them."
The words were far from stern. Lord Prosperus really wanted to convince him to come along. But he had already been caught by the idea of being rich. He, of course, didn't stick to that, but he was up to his feet immediately.
"I'll fetch my horse."
"You don't have a horse." The inn keeper was at it again.
"I'll buy one for him." Lord Prosperus said, standing up too and pulling golden coins from his own small bag. "And tell me how much does he owe you. I feel sorry to leave such an enchanting place without the right payment."
The inn keeper's mouth hung open and she mumbled some number she had definitely thought off in the spot and despite being sure he didn't owe her that much, Lord Prosperus paid it all. And the worse of it all, that gentle, warm smile hung on his lips the whole time, which left the fat inn keeper swooning even after they left, Saturninus over a brand new horse as they drifted through the night, away from the warm lights of the village.
As they rode, the only thing that Saturninus did regret was the idea the young chubby man would have another night to play only with the broomstick and that he was not going to see that happen.
II
Saturninus barely missed drinking anymore. Many reasons could be traced to that, but the one he preferred was that he had finally met his destiny. After a year and another Spring in Castle Mayfare, he understood what life expected of him and his art had never been better. His vision, not blurred by ale, brought to life a building that would linger for the ages to come.
The last pieces to arrive were the three meters marble sculptures that stood by the columns and helped hold the Temple up. Pure marble that he and his pupils were supposed to paint on the following days, they depicted men of the old Ages. By the right side of the entrance, Wodos, the Sun God and by the left side, Thimus, the God of Earth, had big pricks standing hard and in such detail that Saturninus couldn't help but pass his fingers over the head of those uncut cocks, mesmerized by his own mind. After all, those sculptures were products of his own sketches after he sat with Lord Prosperus and his father, Lord Verge, to hear the stories of old, the ones that were the reason this temple was being built.
That had not been the only thing Saturninus had done though. Inside, his favorite pupils painted over drawnings on the walls that he had created. Others, who were masters at dealing with glass and crystal, were putting together the multi-colored windows his mind had created. As the painter stood by the right side of the temple, he watched two of the young pupils painting naked men in different positions, stretching their muscles, showing their bulging arms and chests. Powerful heroes of old who were to be worshipped in that space. His creations.
One of the pupils he had arranged, a young red headed man, came rushing through the open doors, stopping by his side.
"Milord Saturninus, milord Verge is coming." His voice was as rushed as his feet had been. Saturninus had kept him on the lookout. Receiving the Lord of the Castle was a big thing and Saturninus wanted to be prepared. Today they were going to start one of the paintings that would go into the Castle, at the Lord's Gallery. According to Prosperus, since adopting the old religion, his father Verge wanted to change the castle in such a way the old King Mayfare would be proud. The paintings were to be done in the garden, in a spot Saturninus had found. The theme had been chosen by Verge himself – there was an old story he liked the best, about winged men sent from the heavens to aid the army of the Hero Bellerio against the forces of the Night. These winged men were said to be strong and that two of them, Mir and Reit, were the Hero Bellerio's lovers after the war had finished. The only thing Verge demanded was that they were to be painted with big cocks and so Saturninus made sure to look for the biggest cocks in the regions.
He was lucky that those came with strong and fit peasants who would do anything for the good Lords of Mayfare.
"Tell the peasants to meet me at the garden. I will go and prepare." Saturninus left the Temple by the right side and walked through big heavy stones and working men that were still finishing the building. He was quick to find his material. The spot he had chosen was right next to a large fountain that depicted creatures of the deep sea, serpents and mermen in obvious positions of deep lust and grace.
He started preparing all he needed as he positioned himself and waited. The sun was coming through the green leaves that shook under a light breeze. Saturninus sighed out loud. He had never been happier in his life. The luxury that Prosperus had promised him was met in the tiniest details. The room they offered him in the castle, the food they gave him on the meals and their illustrious presence. Saturninus was as much into the pair as they were into him. And both Prosperus and his father seemed to meet his own lust. After a week or so there he had figured quite easily that both men had as many lovers as he had hairs in his head. And they were as unashamed as Saturninus' wildest fantasies. On his tenth day there, he caught both father and son enjoying a drink while two guards suck their cocks. It was just a normal night and while offering a glass to him, they offered also a man who serviced him in the best way possible.
He imagined that the men and women who worked there would hate their position, but he was quick to find out it was an ingenuous mistake. Anyone in that castle was there because they wanted to be there. The peasants in the village were also convinced the old gods were returning and Saturninus was impressed to see them all working in favor of their lords. He had thought all of that would be bad, after all, the Church had explained since he was a young kid that the only thing that made their Kingdom move forward was their Faith, piety and puritane hearts. But the freedom that the Mayfare state enjoyed was also combined with such an improved society that it was easy to see the problem of the Church's society. It came to such a point that even the Men of Faith, freis and fathers and all else were secret agents of Lord Verge Mayfare. Everyone adored the House of Mayfare and they practiced among themselves too the freedom of lust that the castle enjoyed.
Saturninus caught himself laughing and shaking his head. Was this what heaven would look like? Or was he the painter of the revolution that would finally push them forward? The thought filled him with pride and his mind was light with dreams of glory when he felt a tender touch on his shoulder.
"I am sorry I kept you waiting." Lord Verge stood by his side, alone. He was a strong man, despite the white that covered his beard and hair. Saturninus had seem the man naked a multitude of times already and he knew what those large robes hid – a body that would make even young generals jealous. Firm chests and firm muscles, even if they were, like Prosperus, containing some fat. It was easy to see that on the sides of that body. Still, that only added to a beauty that only those sculptures back on the temple could match. "I was told we weren't going to be alone."
"The peasants are coming, Lord Verge. I already sent for them. They are most probably putting on their costumes." Saturninus had stood up and he and Verge shook their hands. The firm handshake always amused the painter. Lord Verge had crossed his fiftieth birth day a couple of years back but he was still a strong, powerful man. Not just in title.
"I prepared myself too." He lifted his hands, showing the robe he wore. They were like some of the depctions of the old paintings in the books that Castle Mayfare still held, after all these years. "Must we hold a single position or shall we give you an idea?"
Saturninus couldn't help but laugh. He knew damn well what the old man was asking.
"No need to pose. At least, not for long. I will give you some instructions, make quick sketches of what I need. This will take no more than an hour or so. And after, I will need the three of you to work my imagination."
"Oh, you devil." Lord Verge was laughing too. It was easy to see where the warmth of Prosperus' smile had come from. Both men seemed so nice and comfortable to be with, and it was a genuine feeling. To his own shame, Saturninus had found himself confessing feelings and crying on their shoulders as if they were long lost fathers. A father he had never had. "I hope my companions are as beautiful and hung as you promised."
"You won't regret leaving it to me."
"Oh, no I won't." Lord Verge was looking over Saturninus shoulders and when the painter looked back, he understood why. Coming their way there were two hunks. Their muscles bulging under white cloth that were delicately thrown over them, barely hiding anything. They had big wings attached to their back, white and made of feathers. Real feather. They made a slight sound as the breeze blew over the two. Their cocks hung exposed, swinging as they walked towards their Lord. Both of them knelt in front of Verge, who put a hand on each of the men's shoulders and told them to rise.
"No kneeling today, my friends. Not unless it is for our own pleasure. Tell me your names, please."
The first to speak was the one with the biggest muscles. He was so strong that he did, in fact, look like one of the heroes of the legends. His blond hair only made it look like he wore a halo. He stammered but eventually the words came out.
"Petyr, milord."
"And you?" Lord Verge's attention was in the smaller one. He was leaner and a head smaller, true, but his was the biggest cock Saturninus had found – and sucked. Verge was also looking right at it.
"Melvin, milord."
"Petyr. Melvin. I hope my friend Saturninus has explained the reason you two have came in today."
"He did, milord." It was Melvin who answered. "We are grateful that milord wants us to help, milord."
The two young peasants were also looking over at Verge, measuring their lord from head to toes. Saturninus had been very careful to separate the men who were only attracted to women to the ones who would like to try with men or did only with men. Melvin had never been with a man before, but upon the spot, he was the quickest to say yes. He was still very young and when Saturninus showed him a few of the tricks, the boy was the most entusiastic about it all. It was an easy choice after that and bring Melvin in for a bit more training had left him with a few nights to enjoy himself with the farmer.
"Now you two listen up." Lord Verge was touching them. Saturninus didn't see when the hands had reached for those bodies covered in oil, but there it was, rough thick fingers caressing chests and abs, just using a bit more time until it reached where the painter bet the Lord really wanted. "Our good Master Saturninus will give us the instructions. Obey every word. It is extremely important we do. This painting of his will last through ages, boys, and your faces will be on them forever alongside me." He stopped a moment, licking his lips as his left hand had reached Petyr's nipple – a big brown circle of skin with a spiky point that was being rubbed by Verge's finger. "Don't hold back. I might look old, but I can take these two things like any other woman out there."
And just like that, the hands were firmly wrapping around the girths of each farmer. Both of them sighed and shuddered before relaxing under that touch, shooting glances at each other. Uncertain at first, but as the fingers continued to massage their cocks, they were more and more confident.
Saturninus knew he had to intervene precisely that moment, or they would spend a whole afternoon fucking, but not working. He almost wished that would be the case, but he had promised a painting worth of the Lord of the Castle and to Verge, he would do it all. Stepping closer to the trio, he guided each of the studs to one side. Making Petyr sit down on the marble bench, he prepared the wings and told the farmer exactly how he should hold his Lord's legs up. For a man his age, Verge had quite a lot of stamina and he assumed the position without any complaints. When they managed to adjust his robes, his hard cock and his full balls were finally exposed. The cock was hardly as big as the angels' but it was not to be dismissed. A powerful hard tool with green thick veins and a pair of balls that a bull would have. He had trimmed the balls and the cock, leaving a bit of his black and white pubes on top of it. As Saturninus adjusted his position, he could get a good sniff of the strong scent that came from it. Musk. A bit of sweat that complimented the warm day they were going through. And yet, it smelled of something fresh also, a citrus mixture possibly. He made Petyr hold the hard cock and the moment those fingers touched it, the big muscle giant had a grin that would make a whore worried, while his big cock was growing at plain view.
Melvin had a foot on the bench, his cock also hard already, and no wonder! As soon as his face was at the height of the young farmer's waist, Lord Verge leaned in, closer, until he managed to lick the tip of the cock, right after pressing his nose over it to sniff the boy's cock. Any man would have a hard on immediately and Melvin's cock jumped into attention.
"Well, the idea is to have you sucking it, my Lord, so please, indulge."
The slurping sounds kept growing louder and despite the effort of staying in one position, it was clear that Lord Verge's appetite was getting the best of it all. Saturninus had sat in a small wooden stool and with crayons started to doodle something. His mind eye was quite strong so most of the ideas he had came from vivid images that danced in his brain, like a silver screen that had been raised in the back of his eyes. Mostly. Saturninus never revealed that to people, always telling his models what to do or how to pose because having a model meant that something else was activated, a certain lust that made the edges of his art a bi smoother, and also more real. As if he could represent the feeling of desire that he had taken from a moment like that one in front of him.
His eyes would go from page to men and than back again to page. He could feel the tickling of desire all over his body and in no time, despite the shadow he had hidden beneath, he felt hot all over. His bulge was the center of the warm waves that went through his body, but it was all his eyes' fault. Watching and hearing the sounds of the older Lord Verge as the men sucked on a big cock and got his ass played with a peasant's rough fingers could cause that to a man.
Eventually, Saturninus paused his triffle, the crayons resting by his side on another stool as he watched the scene with all his attention, pulling out a hard cock that glistened with precum that had already made a spot on his brand new breaches.
It was that that caught Lord Verge's attention.
"Have you gotten enough from this position?"
"Yes, milord." Saturninus had completely forgotten all the lessons on how to address wealthy men properly. He was suddenly sounding as raunchy as he felt. "But please, continue. I-" He looked down at his own occupied hands, his hard cock throbbing between avid fingers, the head barely hidden by a cover of skin. He spat down on it, his thumb mixing precum and saliva. "I need more inspiration to get this right."
Lord Verge understood it immediately. His new freedom had the older men sitting down, asking gently for Petyr, the big muscled god, to stand up by one side while Melvin approached from the other. Both hands had taken cocks and each time his mouth was at one, tongue licking around the tips before he would make his best effort to open up wide and taken all the inches that was possible to go down his throat. Saturninus was impressed, especially when Melvin, in a sudden impulse, took the Lord's head and made every inch of his long thick length disappear until his pubes, who had the color of straws, were hiding Verge's nose. The old man gagged and pulled back, tears on his eyes. But he was smiling.
"A little help from my good friend was all I need to get his whole cock. And you smell delicious, my love. Something youthful, and natural." Verge leaned closer, his nose back where the legs met the balls, a damp place on a man, where his musk would be stronger. The sniff he gave there was loud enough for all to hear and brought a moan to Melvin's young mouth. "An aroma worth of the best of the lovers." Verge's tongue ran up the side of the crotch before he was quick to give Petyr a sniff too. "And yours – you smell like a day in the fields, right under the sun, rolling down the grass with sweat dripping on my back." The next thing he was turning Petyr around, nose going in first on the man's crack, face disappearing in big round and firm ass cheeks. The big man offered no resistance whatsoever to be handled like a whore. In fact, he seemed to appreciate it too. His hand was soon moving back and in a act that copied Melvin's somehow, he forced that face against his ass.
"Eat that hole, milord."
The two young man seemed to be enjoying taking turns at demanding attention of the old Lord Verge. In their whole lives they might have seemed the old Lord passing by, might have heard some of the rumours, but they would have never dreamt of using the man's mouth to pleasure their own bodies. Saturninus could bet good gold on that. He could see the joy they had when they realized that their demands could grow and that Verge would simply thank them afterwards. The old man seemed to think that every part of those bodies was worth kissing and another rough sketch was done when they had him laying on the bench on his back, Petyr trying to fit his big thick dick into Verge's hole while Melvin, standing at the tip of the marble seat, held a feet over the man's face, whose tongue was licking right between the toes. It had to be a quick sketch, because truth was, Saturninus felt he could explode at any moment.
The blank pages were soon filled with suggestions that he would catch up alone in his room, painting a masterpiece that would be worth of Verge's glory. The respect and love Saturninus would later put on it would make the three paintings that came from it something mystical. The painter came up with them just by watching the old Lord Verge Mayfare, whose blood came from the Great Kings of Old, whore himself up to two young studs.
It was a pleasure to watch the man riding Melvin's cock, taking every single inch of that young horse-sized cock into his loose hole, and notice that a small crowd had gathered to watch it all. No man raised a concern or a bad observation about their Master. Quite the contrary, they seemed to watch Verge with the same love and adoration that Saturninus had in his eyes. It was hard to explain why an old man like Verge gathered such charm over himself. It was more than his open kindness or his deep wiseness.
But all of those men, who in anywhere else in those lands, would be ready to cut their Lord's head for such a deviation, there, in Castle Mayfare, adored him and allowed themselves the same natural freedom that Verge represented. Not all of them were into men, Saturninus was sure. Some watched the scene with curiosity, but didn't seem to grow aroused. Others had their breaches down to their ankles and masturbated vigurously. Whatever changes the Mayfares had in mind, it had already taken hold of those people's heart. They were free of judgement. They were in love with their own bodies.
Verge got up from that huge cock and there was cum leaking from his ass. Melvin was quick to put his mouth on it, his tongue slurping and taking all the cum he deposited inside into his mouth just to have a tired Verge, breathing heavily on the bench, drink it up from a wild kiss they shared. Petyr had not cum yet so he put his cock between the two mouths and both Lord and countryboy were milking it until the big muscled model was moaning loud, aiming his cock at Verge's face, shooting such a heavy load over him that Verge had to close his eyes. When the moaning stopped, he risked opening them, but managed to do so only with his left side.
"Well, I feel like you two stallions have drenched me with your seed. To that I thank you."
He was talking to the two while Saturninus watched from his stool. He had already came to their action and that was a sort of release to him. It made him a bit more concetrated on his work rather than over his cock. But when the two gorgeous stud sat side by side over their Lord, Saturninus approached.
"Was the session to my Lord's liking?"
"It was. You have found great models, my friend." Verge's fingers were caressing the nipple of Petyr while his other hand patted the thigh of Melvin. "Have you two enjoyed this afternoon with me?"
The two were quick to reply that yes, of course they did. They were proud to have done it and they would do it all again if the Master wanted so. The young rascals. The man's beard and cheeks was still glistening with their cum and they were already talking about a second round. The words did bring a loud laughter to Verge. His white hairy chest heaved as the laugh came to a halt.
"Oh, you two. Well, I am not as young as my son, Prosperus, unfortunately, or else we would be given my good friend Saturninus a whole lot of new ideas. But you two must understand that my old age and that huge orgasm you two made me have are enough to put me to bed early tonight." He patted both men's cheeks before cleaning the cum that dried over his right eye. "What now, Saturninus?"
"A last sketch, Sir. Your face looks..."
"Wet." Verge laughed again, getting up and looking around. Some of the men had already dispersed but the remaining ones were kneeling to their Master. "No kneeling, my good men. But off to your work. We still have quite long hours before the sun sets."
The man stood up and came to him, kissing his hand before parting with smiles that would make the Church proud if their followers ever looked like that. While they made a line to kneel and show appreciation for their Lord, even with his face covered in cum like that, Saturninus made one last drawning.
His Lord Verge stood proud among flowers and trees – a yellow light from the sun came over him, where he stood, like a blessing from above. He was naked, his face glistened with the seed of the young lovers he took and he gave his blessings to other men who knelt in front of him for only a single kiss of pure devotion on the back of his hand. He looked truly like a hero of old and even after long generations had come and gone, the painting remained and Verge Mayfare was remembered from it as this almost god-like figure who started the revolution that would change everything.