The following story is true in its way, and was a scandal in its time of the proportions of the Clinton and Lewinski scandal was in ours.

Alex d Core, a noble knight and lord of Redowlyn had been master of his faithful filae (An armed Moorish warrior loyal to a Christian knight.) for over 3-years during the holy wars. They had saved each other's lives many times during battle.

Alex d Core vowed to bring his faithful filae home with him and to keep him as a friend forever. You see after the wars in the holy lands, Mahmot no longer had a home of his own. Having taken up with the Christen armies his brethren would have hunted him down and murdered him. It might have taken a long time to actually kill such a magnificent man, but in time it would surely happen.

During his stint fighting the holy war, Alex d Core lost his father back on the family estates. It twas nothing noble nor vial, only old age that had carried him away. Now the son was coming home to be the new lord of Redowlyn.

They arrived just before the Winter Solstice and while Lord knight Alex d Core was making the rounds, visiting his lands and people to refamiliarizing himself with one and all, his friend stayed behind to relax in safety and comfort for the first time in his adult life.

She was small and fragile looking, almost like something from a fairytale. Mahmot stood well over 3 stones tall and towered over the small woman. His eyes smoldered as his lust rose from deep within. The huge Moor warrior was ready for more pleasurable things than his usual killing lust of battle.

The big black man moved silently forward, holding the young woman's gaze as if he were a black adder taking its prey. She gasped when his large battle scared hands closed over her delicate white shoulders.

She never made a sound when the big black warrior picked her up in his massive arms and carried her to his pallet. Still silent as he pulled her clothing away from her body in loud tearing rips. The fine linen shredded easily in his brawny hands.

As he tore her clothing he glimpsed more and more female flesh. It had been many months since he'd ravished a woman. He had never had a white noblewoman before. It was a secret fantasy of his to defile himself with a beautiful foreign pig eater. To grunt joyously as he pumped his hot seed deeply into a frail little English woman. Yes, this would be good, he thought.

There was noise outside the chamber door. Mahmot knew that if this lady screamed he'd have twenty guardsmen on his back in an instant. But she remained silent, just looking up at him eyes wide.

Realizing that it was now or never, Mahmot began to strip his clothes off. He noticed that the woman's eyes stared at him as he striped. Was she afraid, or interested? He couldn't be sure. And if the truth were known, he didn't care. All he wanted just then was to take this white wench and take her like she'd never been taken before.

When Mahmot pealed his britches down to the ground and stood back up he was sure that the emotion in the woman's eyes was excitement, and well, maybe a little fear. He didn't try to camouflage his arousal. He was half hard and growing fast. The fact that his object of lustful fantasies was laying only a foot away totally naked and watching him grow was enough to excite him more than anything else had in years. Including the lust of battle.

Mahmot had to admit that killing an enemy was almost as good as ravishing a woman's body. There had been many times when during a battle he found himself totally erect; almost painful in its intensity. Striking off another man's head with a sword had always given the warrior a hard on, even when he was a youngster and just starting out as a warrior.

He looked down in surprise and the feel of the woman's cold fingers on his swelling manhood brought him back to the present. He stood there looking down at her as she crawled up next to him and knelt on the bed handling him as she looked up into his face.

The sense of power that rushed through his big sturdy body almost made him week in the knees. Almost, but not quite. He grinned fiendishly as the pretty petite noblewoman began to massage his meat. The skin of his shaft quickly became coated with his seminal fluids and the woman's nimble fingers pulling and massaging his shiny black shaft.

She knelt naked in front of him looking at his manly tool with an expression of awe on her lovely face. The long black shaft snaked out between white delicate fingers each time she pulled or pushed. His excitement began to overpower his senses as he came closer and closer to the edge. After all it had been many months since he'd come.

When the small female leaned over and kissed the head of his meat, Mahmot groaned and shivered as his come surged up form his depths and spurted out into the light of day. Gush after gush of pent up seed splattered all over the shocked lady. Mahmot wondered if she'd ever seen a man come into the air before. He smiled as she finally stopped flinching and accepted his hot sticky blasts.

Soon her face, breasts and stomach were splattered with the Moor's come. He looked at the pretty woman; he thought momentarily to himself, "Hmmm, Moslem come on a Christian wench," it had a poetic justice to it.

Then his orgasm was past and all that was left was the tremendous afterglow of a good come well spent. He looked down to see the mess he'd made of his small attractive noblewoman. To his amazement she didn't seem to mind, and even looked more excited than before. Her pretty blue eyes were hooded in a primal lust and he could see that she was panting for breath now.

The small female creature tugged at his hand. What was she trying to do? Then he realized that she wanted him to mount her. She let go of his hand and laid back upon the bed and held her slender arms out to him beseechingly.

It didn't take more than a second for the big Moor to respond. He had never gone soft, even though he'd just had a most intense orgasm he was ready. Mahmot jumped on top of the petite woman and urgently shoved her legs open and began to wildly thrust at her crotch.

Finally one of his frantic thrusts found a home and with a sigh of satisfaction the big man felt her warm slick flesh engulf his meaty shaft. As he pushed in to the hilt pinning her small body to the mattress, she moaned and wrapped her shapely legs around his ass and hung on as he began to wildly ride her ever so tight pussy.

The noble English lady had never had anything like him before. This strange heathen with his huge 'spear' thrusting so deep that she thought she could feel it touching at the back of her throat. It was an experience so unique and so perverse that she couldn't help the orgasm that surged through her body, making her scream in ecstasy.

Mahmot had to muzzle the woman with his big black hand as he continued to thrust into her. Her eyes were wild with lust but the only sounds she now made were muffled beneath his hand.

She was young and strong and fought for her pleasure, squirming and moving under him until Mahmot finally felt his own come rising again. With a satisfied groan he emptied himself into the small noblewoman pinned beneath him.

He felt surge after urgent surge of his hot sticky seed filling her up. And he still didn't stop his thrusts. She began to beg him to stop, but he only continued to fuck her faster. Then after another 10 minutes of maintaining a steady rhythm his woman began to groan again and another muffled scream escaped her lovely lips as a second orgasm overcame her. Yet Mahmot still thrust.

Over the next half hour the huge black man continued to fuck the small noblewoman, faster and faster. She experienced two more orgasms before almost fainting with exhaustion. Then finally Mahmot grunted and she could feel his massive body tense on top of her and he emptied himself in her for a second time.

They both lay together for minutes afterward, panting for breath. Then Mahmot felt the noble lady's hands roaming his back and he felt ticklish. A feeling he rarely experienced, but one he was experiencing now. He began to giggle like a child, and tickled her back.

Soon they were rolling around on the sweat soaked bed giggling and tickling each other. And that's how the noble lady's husband found them. Sir Alex d Core was shocked at first by his wife's brazen behavior. But when she bore a black child 9 months later he defied anyone to say anything critical about his friend or his wife. After all his friend had saved his life in battle, they were like brothers.

It is said that Mahmot, 'The Spear" as he was afterwards called, made many an English noblewoman very happy in bed, and that he brought quite a few black babies into the world.

Apparently his size wasn't restricted to just his height, and the local women talked to each other about his attributes. It became a fashion to bear a 'black' toddler by The Spear. Even though some of the husbands complained about the situation, what could they really do about it when their noble lord accepted things as they were?

Mahmot, The Spear lived many 'productive' years. He is said to have died at the ripe old age of 60. And it is also said that he fathered 30 black children who grew up in Redowlyn and intermarried with the population. To this day, many of the folk living in modern day Redowlyn are just a little bit darker in completion than the usual Englishman.



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