She hadn't had a sip to drink, but her head was befuddled beyond drunken. Perhaps it was the subtle fumes emitted from the cauldron, or was it the jesters own scent urging her into debauchery. It had been one thing as his fingers slipped beneath her clothing and another as he guided her hand to his thick staff, encouraging her exploration. Her breath caught like a wild beast trapped within her breast. Her nipples grew taut, painful against the thin green silk concealing her pert globes. The press of his lips to her own was barely in time to catch her exhaled moan. Her tongue snaked, darted across his lower lip, tasting... twined with his, tryst and chase as he seemed to swallow her soul.<br/><br/>Nectared petals eased gently apart as his finger played over her swollen nub nestled within. Each touch elicited a deep ache, a longing to be filled that surpassed any hindrance of the surrounding company. Her touch drifted over the coarse fabric of his trousers, skirting the outline of his erection. Trembling, she wanted more and allowed herself the indulgence of pulling loose the tie separating her from his flesh. Once loose he nearly sprang upright into her waiting grasp. Inflexible in it's hardened state, she marveled as her fingers encircled his girth, stroking upward. Her thumb played across his ridge, then swiped slowly across the velvety surface of his crown. Each finger plunked across his lip, and over his glans. A deep groan, vibrating against her breast bone as she encountered his lube; the prescented musk of desire. Her grip tightened to slip in a slick, effortless stroke down his shaft.<br/><br/>There was no way for their fondling to continue without exposing their lust. With each new stroke against his pulsing length she cared less what the others saw or thought.