The Princess’s Carnal Hunger

Previous Story (Chapter 05): [LINK]
Beginning (Chapter 01): [LINK]
Next Story (Chapter 08): To Be Continued…

 

The wheels of the Zonai cart crunched to a stop on the fresh gravel path, and Link hopped down first, offering Zelda a hand. She took it, stepping onto the soft earth and grass just beyond the well traveled road. They had made amazing time! Nima Plain was usually a week’s travel away from the Akkala region. But with the use of a cart equipped with the large Zonai Wheel devices, they had made the trip in less than two days! There was a possibility they could have done it in one, but they didn’t have any of the battery devices available, requiring Link to use his Zonai Energy Cell. It was a device that acted as a reusable battery which restored itself with the magic in the air rather than being charged with electricity. Zelda had become very familiar with them while she was stuck in Hyrule’s founding era. Now, they were incredibly rare, but with the aid of some of the friendlier constructs that were still around, they could produce them again in due time.

 

The home Link had brought her to was on the outskirts of Tarrey Town, the small Island village in the middle of Lake Akkala. She walked to the porch with the same quiet wonder she’d worn since the skyline of Tarrey Town first appeared in the distance. The house stood proud at the edge of the new settlement, three stories of cedar painted a vibrant green that was trimmed in white. Like all of the homes made by the Hudson Construction Company, it had a very boxy design aesthetic. A result of Bolson’s (the company’s original founder) innovative modular prefabricated modular designs. While the design wasn’t exactly traditional, they were quick to produce and easy to set up. Hateno village was growing rapidly because of it, and Tarrey Town, not even a decade old yet, was growing exponentially. Pines whispered behind it; ahead, the hillside dropped away in a cliff toward the lights of the village proper, close but not crowding.

 

Zelda tilted her head, studying the lines of the place. “So,” she said, voice low, almost teasing, “You built this whole house while you were looking for me?”

 

Link gave a single, affirmative nod. He pushed the door open, unlocked, because out here locks still felt like an afterthought, and gestured her inside. The air smelled of cut pine, paint, and hearth smoke; a low fire crackled in the stone fireplace to chase away the evening chill. Akkala was far to the northeast of Hyrule, but it was also near Death Mountain, and while the volcano had stopped erupting, the heat underground kept the area in a near perpetual state of late summer or early fall, with no real spring or winter. The only downside to that being the regular thunderstorms in the area

 

“When the leads dried up,” he signed, fingers moving with the easy fluency she’d taught him years ago, “Or turned out to be dead ends. I must have crossed Hyrule end to end. Wild rumors in Kakariko, or Yiga ambushes that barely counted as warm-ups.” A faint, rueful smile tugged at his mouth. “I needed something to keep my hands busy. And my head.”

 

Zelda stepped across the threshold, boots soft on the wide-planked floor. The first story opened around her: a single generous room, beams exposed overhead, windows tall enough to frame the dusk. To the left, a kitchen ran the length of the wall, a long counter of polished oak, a single cooking pot set over a fire pit, shelves already stocked with jars of herbs and a wheel of Hateno cheese under cloth. A small, graceful statue of Hylia stood in an alcove beside the hearth, no taller than Link’s hip, carved from white marble veined with gold. Fresh wildflowers, silent princesses and armored amaranths, lay in a vase at its base.

 

In the center of the room, a sturdy table of dark walnut waited, ringed by four chairs. A single place setting had been laid out as if Link had half-expected company tonight: a plate, a cup, a folded napkin. Zelda brushed her fingers over the wood grain.

 

“Entertaining guests already?” she asked, arching a brow.

 

Link shrugged, “The sages would visit sometimes, usually Sidon, since Zora’s Domain is fairly close. Or Purah, with a new slate prototype and no sense of timing.” He moved to the kitchen, nudging open a cupboard to reveal neat rows of spices. “There’s a cold cellar under the trapdoor, and the pump outside draws from the lake. Everything works.”

 

Zelda’s gaze drifted back to the Hylia statue, then up to the staircase that climbed up the far wall. The dying light through the western windows painted the room in slow amber. She inhaled, steadying herself against the sudden, dizzying sense of home, not a castle, not a ruin, but something Link had pieced together section by section while the world thought she was lost.

 

She turned to him, eyes bright. “Show me the rest.”

 

Link’s hand brushed the banister as they climbed. The stairs opened onto an airy loft that spanned the entire upper floor, one entire wall was claimed by a painting that stopped Zelda mid-step.

 

It was her, sort of. An image of the Light Dragon snaked through a dawn sky, mane of pale gold streaming like a comet’s tail, crystalline horns catching the first light. The artist had captured the impossible scale: glittering scales that radiated sacred light, eyes, ancient and sorrowful. The brushwork was meticulous, every scale rendered in shimmering layers of white-gold pigment that shifted when the light moved.

 

Zelda’s breath fogged the air. “Was that really what I looked like?”

 

Link nodded. He crossed to a low cedar chest beneath the painting, knelt, and lifted the lid. Inside, nestled on black velvet: a handful of opalescent scales the size of his palm, edges still faintly warm to the touch and emitting a soft glow; three curved shards of horn, translucent as moonstone; and a single, perfect tear-shaped crystal that pulsed with a soft inner light.

 

“I stopped collecting these after I saw the vision in the last Dragon Tear,” he signed, setting the horn shard in her hand. “The vision showed me you were still in there. Didn’t feel right taking more.”

 

Zelda turned the shard over, watching light fracture through it. “But they were useful, right?”

 

Another nod. “The horn shards fused into a blade. Healed any wound almost as fast as I could be injured.” His fingers ghosted over the faint scar on his forearm, a Gloom burn, now just a pale line. “Saved my life more than once.”

 

A slow, delighted smile curved her mouth. “Then I don’t mind at all. And it’s not like I remember any of it.” She set the shard back with reverence, then stepped closer to the painting. Her fingertips hovered over the dragon’s eye, not quite touching the canvas. “It’s… Beautiful. Terrifying. Like looking at someone else’s dream.”

 

Link moved behind her, arms sliding around her waist. She leaned back into him, the warmth of his chest against her spine, the faint thrum of Rauru’s power still humming beneath his skin like a second heartbeat.

 

Zelda tilted her head, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “You kept pieces of me while I was gone.” Her voice dropped to a velvet heat, “Now, you have the rest.”

 

Link’s hand lingered at the small of Zelda’s back as they climbed the narrow staircase on the other side of the loft. The third floor was smaller, intimate: a single bedroom that jutted over the hillside like the prow of a ship, windows on three sides framing the darkening sky. A low fire crackled in a corner hearth; the air smelled faintly of oil and steel.

 

One wall had been given over entirely to weapons. A rack of dark walnut held them like relics, Zelda recognized each of them instantly.

 

– The Sword of the Seven, its blade etched and hilt studded with jewels.
– The Great Eagle Bow, feathers still tied to the grip, the string humming with tension.
– The Boulder Breaker, rough and heavy.
– And centered beneath a small skylight, the Lightscale Trident, its surface catching the firelight in ripples of gold against the silver, tips honed to a needle’s edge.

 

Beside it, fitted to a wooden mannequin, hung the Zora Armor. The material had been re-dyed a deep, vivid magenta, Mipha’s color, and every scale had been polished until it gleamed like wet stone. The chest piece was shaped to Link’s frame, but the cut was unmistakably ceremonial, almost bridal in its elegance.

 

Zelda’s fingers brushed the cool scales. “I spoke with Mipha once, while she was stitching this,” she said softly. “She told me the story behind the armor, how the thread was woven from lake-silk moths, and how the queen believed her love would protect her husband in battle. I thought it was a beautiful tale.” Her voice caught, just slightly. “I never asked who it was for.”

 

Link’s gaze stayed on the trident, his face was stoic, but his eyes were full of pain. “She made it for me.”

 

Zelda’s hand stilled. She wasn’t shocked, not truly. The knowledge had always been there, a quiet ache beneath the ribs. But hearing it spoken aloud, here, in this room he’d built while the world thought her lost… It settled like a stone in still water.

 

“I think I knew,” Link signed, shoulders tight. “Deep down, but…”

 

Zelda turned, pressing two fingers to his lips. “Don’t,” she said, firm but gentle. “Don’t do that to yourself. I know she wouldn’t want you beating yourself up for what happened.” Her thumb traced the line of his jaw, the faint, faded scar that ran beneath it. “She loved you. She’d want you to be happy. Not mourning her forever.”

 

The fire popped. Outside, the first stars pricked the indigo sky. Zelda stepped closer, until their faces were just inches apart, the magenta scales of the armor eclipsed by their combined shadows.

 

“Besides,” she murmured, lips brushing his, “I’m the one wearing you out tonight.” she told him, giggling at her own pun.

 

Link’s smile curved slowly and warm, the kind that reached his eyes and softened the edges of every scar. Zelda pressed in closer, hands sliding to the nape of his neck, and kissed him, soft at first, a gentle press of lips that tasted of pine air and relief. Then deeper, hungrier; her tongue traced the seam of his mouth, and he answered with a low sound that vibrated through her chest. His arms tightened around her waist, pulling her closer.

 

Then a duet of stomach growls shattered the moment! Hers first, then his, perfectly timed. They broke apart, foreheads still touching, and laughed: Zelda’s bright and startled, Link’s silent but shaking his shoulders.

 

“Guess it has been almost half a day since we ate,” he said, cheeks flushed. Their only meal had been breakfast this morning, when they set out from the Wetland Stable where they had spent the previous night. Linkle, a distant cousin of Link’s had parted ways with them there, heading back to Hateno Village while he and Zelda headed north to Akkala.

 

Zelda pressed one last kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Why don’t you go prepare something. Ashamed as I am to admit it, I’m not a very good cook,” something she learned well when she tried to make something while they were on Eventide Island, “That, and I don’t quite know my way around the kitchen yet. I’ll be right here.”

 

Link nodded and stole another quick kiss, light, promising, and jogged down the stairs, boots thudding softly on the wood. The moment he vanished around the curve, Zelda’s smile turned more mischievous. She pulled out the Purah Pad at her hip. A soft chime, a swirl of cyan light, and the extra-dimensional inventory appeared on the screen like a ribbon of starlight. Her fingers danced across the interface until she found the parcel labeled in Purah’s looping scrawl: VIRGIN KILLING SWEATER handle with caution (or don’t). She punctuated the little note with a winking caricature of herself. She tapped the icon.

 

The outfit materialized in her hands, soft, dove-gray cashmere, impossibly warm despite being little more than a high-necked, knitted apron that turned into a micro-skirt that barely qualified as clothing. Much of the sides of her breasts, the curve of her hips, her legs, nearly all of her back, including the top of her ass, were all left completely bare. Purah had cackled for a full minute when she’d handed it over, claiming it was “Field tested by the Gerudo. No man can resist it! Virgin or not, though it is quite effective on virgins, hence the name.”

 

Zelda stripped quickly, travel dress, undergarments, boots, folding everything into the Pad with a flick. The sweater slid over her skin like a lover’s whisper, clinging to every line. She turned to the full-length mirror propped against the wall (another of Link’s quiet touches) and adjusted the fall of the fabric. The gray made her eyes look storm-bright; and clashed nicely with her golden hair.

 

Downstairs, the scent of something sweet wafted all the way up to the third floor. Zelda’s stomach growled again, but the heat pooling low in her belly had nothing to do with hunger.

 

She padded barefoot to the top of the stairs, leaned over the railing just enough for the sweater to shift and reveal the curve of one breast, and called down in a voice pitched sweet and dangerous, “Link? Dinner can wait five minutes. I have something to show you.”

 

Link crested the final stair a few moments later, two golden-crusted baked apples balanced on a small wooden tray, steam curling from the cinnamon-dusted cores. The scent of caramelized sugar and butter followed him like a promise.

 

Then he saw her.

 

The tray tilted, one apple rolled to the edge and would have tumbled if not for his reflexes (honed by a thousand battles) hadn’t snapped his hand out to catch it. His jaw went slack, eyes wide, the flush rising from his collar to the tips of his pointed ears.

 

Zelda stood framed by the firelight, one hip cocked, the dove-gray cashmere clinging to every curve like it had been knitted onto her. The sweater’s high neck only made the exposed skin of her curves even more tantalizing; the micro-skirt barely skimmed the tops of her thighs. A single step forward and the fabric shifted, revealing the soft underside of one breast, and the supple skin of her inner thigh.

 

She lifted a brow, voice low and velvet. “So, Link… how do I look?”

 

He tried to answer. A strangled sound came out instead, half-laugh, half-groan. The tray clattered to the floorboards (apples rolling, forgotten) as he crossed the room. His hands found her waist, thumbs brushing the bare skin of her lower back, and he finally managed a single, hoarse word:

 

“Deadly.”

 

Zelda’s smile was pure mischief, “Good. Purah said it would stop your heart. Looks like it worked.”

 

Zelda pressed in closer, her breasts pressing against his chest, arms sliding up to loop around his shoulders. The cashmere was whisper-soft against his tunic, but the heat of her skin beneath it burned through. She pressed flush against him (hips, belly, breasts), and the hard line of his arousal trapped between them drew a delighted giggle from her throat.

 

“Is that the Master Sword,” she murmured against his lips, “or are you just happy to see me?”

 

She didn’t wait for an answer. Her mouth pressed against his, no trace of tenderness now (only teeth and tongue and the low, needy sound she made when he opened for her). Link’s hands found her back, fingers splaying over bare skin where the sweater plunged low, and he kissed her back with the same raw hunger, walking her backward until her thighs hit the edge of the bed.

 

The forgotten apples rolled across the floorboards, scenting the air with burnt sugar and cinnamon.

 

Link’s hands slid down to grip the firm curve of her ass, fingers digging into soft flesh as he lifted her effortlessly. Zelda’s legs locked around his waist, ankles crossing at the small of his back, thighs squeezing tight. She clung to him like a Faron jungle monkey, lips still devouring his as he carried her the few steps to the bed.

 

He lowered her onto the mattress with deliberate care, the down giving beneath her weight. Zelda’s fingers flew to his tunic, yanking it over his head and flinging it aside. Belt, boots, trousers—each piece hit the floor with a careless thud, scattered like battlefield debris. When his pants finally dropped, his cock sprang free! Thick, flushed, and impossibly long, veins pulsing along its length.

 

Zelda’s heart fluttered at the sight. Her eyes went wide, pupils blown dark with lust. A visible shiver ran through her, thighs pressing together instinctively before she forced them apart again, reaching for him.

 

“By the Goddess, Link,” she whispered, voice trembling with raw need. “To think you can hide this under all those clothes…!”

 

Zelda’s fingers trembled as they wrapped around the base of Link’s cock, her palms pressing against the hot, veined skin that pulsed with his heartbeat. Even with both hands, she couldn’t fully encircle its girth, it was like trying to grasp a tree trunk! The sheer impossibility of it sent a thrill racing up her spine, a hot flush blooming across her chest and down to her core. Goddess, he was massive, his cock a weapon in its own right, longer than her arm and twice as thick, the head already glistening with a bead of precum that caught the firelight like a pearl.

 

“Link,” she breathed, her voice husky and broken with need, “I want you. Right now. All of you.” Her eyes locked onto his, pupils dilated so wide they swallowed the green, her lips parted in raw anticipation. She didn’t wait for his nod or sign; she couldn’t. The nymphomaniac fire that had simmered in her since dawn, was ignited fully now.

 

She sank to her knees on the edge of the bed, pulling him closer by that impossible shaft. The mattress dipped under her weight, the cashmere sweater riding up to expose more of her thighs, but she barely noticed. All that mattered was Link, towering before her, his cock throbbing in her hands like a living thing. Zelda leaned in, her breath ghosting over the tip, and parted her lips wide, wider than she thought possible. Her jaw protested immediately, a dull ache blooming at the hinges as she stretched to accommodate even the head.

 

The first inch slid past her lips, and she moaned around it, the vibration humming through his length. Salty, musky, him, pure and unfiltered. She swirled her tongue along the underside, tracing the ridge where head met shaft, savoring the way it twitched against her. But she wanted more. Needed more. With a determined push, she took him deeper, her hands stroking what her mouth couldn’t yet reach. Four inches, five, her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, drawing him in with wet, slurping sounds that echoed obscenely in the quiet room.

 

Link’s hand found her hair, not pulling but threading through the golden strands, a gentle anchor. She glanced up at him through her lashes, seeing the strain in his jaw, the way his chest rose and fell in ragged breaths. It spurred her on. Zelda bobbed her head, working him in shallow thrusts at first, her saliva coating him in glistening trails that dripped down to her hands. The ache in her jaw intensified, a sharp twinge that bordered on pain, but it only fueled the heat pooling between her legs. She was soaking, her thighs slick without a single touch, her body responding to the challenge like it was a battle she was born to win.

 

“UGUUK, GUK, GWEH, GURGH, GLUCK,” she choked, taking him deeper now. She relaxed her throat, drawing on memories of ancient texts she’d read in forbidden castle libraries, techniques for pleasure, for endurance. Six inches, or was it seven? She didn’t know anymore! The head bumped the back of her throat, and she gagged, a reflexive choke that made her eyes water. Tears spilled down her cheeks, but she didn’t pull back. Instead, she pushed forward, swallowing around the intrusion, her throat muscles contracting in waves that milked him. “MMMMPH!” The sound was muffled, desperate, a mix of gag and moan as her body rebelled and surrendered in the same breath.

 

Oh, goddess, it was too much, and yet not enough. The girth stretched her lips to their limit, her teeth grazing lightly despite her efforts to keep them sheathed. She choked again, a wet, guttural sound that vibrated through both of them, her nose flaring as she struggled for air. Spit bubbled at the corners of her mouth, dripping onto her chin, her chest, staining the cashmere. But the pleasure… It was electric.

 

“GUG, GUH, GUK, GLURK, GUH GUH GUH!” Every gag sent a jolt straight to her clit, her pussy clenching around nothing, aching to be filled. She moaned louder, the lust building like a storm, her hips grinding against the air as if seeking friction from the ether.

 

Link groaned above her, his fingers tightening in her hair just enough to guide, not force. She loved it, the control she had, the way she could reduce Hyrule’s hero to this trembling mess. Deeper now, her throat bulging visibly as she forced him down. She could feel it, the head pressing past her tonsils, sliding into the tight channel of her esophagus. Another gag ripped through her, harsher this time, her body convulsing as she choked on his length. Tears streamed freely, but she pressed on, her moans turning to whimpers of pure ecstasy.

 

“NNGH, LINK!” She pulled back just enough to gasp the words around him, her voice hoarse and wrecked, before diving back in. More than half his length was inside her mouth now. Her hands slid lower, one cupping his heavy balls, rolling them gently as the other stroked the base she still couldn’t swallow. The strain was exquisite agony, her jaw throbbed like it’d been struck by a Lynel’s club, her throat raw and burning from the friction. But by the Goddess, the fullness… it reached down, down, pressing against the walls of her throat and into the pit of her stomach. A deep pressure that made her belly clench and her core burn with lust.

 

She bobbed faster now, choking with every downstroke, the sounds wet and filthy: gluck-gluck-gluck, punctuated by her gags and moans. “AHH, GCK, YESH! OH PHUUUCK, WHIIIINK!!!” The words garbled around his cock, but she didn’t care. Pleasure coiled tight in her gut, building from the sheer act of this, worshipping his dick like it were some sort of deity, stretching herself to breaking. She gagged hard, her throat spasming around him, and that was it. The orgasm hit her like a thunderclap, no touch needed, just the overwhelming sensation of him filling her mouth, her throat, her everything.

 

Her body shuddered, thighs shaking as waves of ecstasy crashed through her. She moaned deep and long around his girth, the vibration intense enough to make Link’s knees buckle. Her own heady juices trickled down her inner thighs, soaking the bedsheets beneath her knees. She choked through it, tears mixing with spit on her face, her hips bucking involuntarily as the climax ripped her apart. It was pure, animalistic lust, her nymphomaniac urges unleashed in full. She pulled back gasping, strings of saliva connecting her lips to his cock, only to plunge down again, deeper if possible, gagging louder, choking harder, moaning through the pain like it was the sweetest nectar.

 

Link’s hand in her hair tightened, his breath coming in pants. She could feel him swelling even thicker, if that were possible, his veins pulsing against her tongue. But she wasn’t done! Not by half! She worked him relentlessly, her jaw a fire of ache, her throat a bruised tunnel of delight. Gag after gag, choke after choke, she reveled in it, the sounds a symphony of her devotion.

 

“MOAR! GUGH, AYE NHEED DISH!!” Her voice broke on a particularly deep thrust, the head nudging so far it pressed against her sternum from inside.

 

She lost track of time in the haze of it all. Minutes blurred into an eternity of sucking, swallowing, gagging. Her moans grew frantic, pleasure-pain blending until she couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. Another orgasm built, faster this time, triggered by a brutal choke that left her vision spotting. She came again, harder, her body arching as she screamed around him, muffled, desperate, ecstatic. Fluid gushed from her, puddling on the floor, her thighs trembling uncontrollably.

 

But still, she didn’t stop. Hands pumping, mouth devouring, throat yielding. Gag. Choke. Moan. Repeat. The room filled with the lewd orchestra: her slurps, his groans, the wet smack of flesh. Zelda’s world narrowed to this, him, inside her, stretching her limits. She was insatiable, hungry for every inch, every drop.

 

Finally, as her third climax loomed, she felt him tense. But that was for later. For now, she sucked harder, gagged deeper, moaned louder, lost in the raw, choking pleasure of it all.

 

Zelda’s throat convulsed around Link’s cock one final time, a deep, choking gag that sent vibrations rippling through his entire length. She felt him throb dangerously, the veins pulsing harder against her tongue, his balls tightening in her palm as his release built like a storm on the horizon. But she wasn’t ready for that, not yet. With a wet, gasping pop, she pulled off him, strings of saliva and precum bridging her swollen lips to the glistening head. Her chest heaved, tears streaking her cheeks, jaw throbbing from the relentless strain, but her eyes burned with feral hunger.

 

“Not yet!” she gasped, voice hoarse and raw, like she’d swallowed gravel. A wicked grin split her face as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, smearing the mess across her chin. “I want to feel you explode inside me, Link. Deep. Where it counts.”

 

Link’s breath came in ragged pants, his cock twitching in the cool air, denied at the brink. He looked at her like she was a goddess, or a demon, his blue eyes dark with need. Zelda pushed him gently but firmly, her hands on his chest guiding him to lay back on the massive bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, the cedar posts creaking softly as he stretched out, his muscular frame sprawled like an offering. His dick stood proud, slick and shining from her mouth, the length curving slightly upward, ready to claim her.

 

She straddled him in one fluid motion, knees sinking into the down comforter on either side of his hips. The cashmere sweater clung to her sweat-damp skin as she spun it around, exposing her heavy tits, the micro-skirt hiked up around her waist like it had never been more than a tease. Zelda reached down, fingers wrapping around his base again, still unable to fully encircle it, and positioned the head at her entrance. She was positively dripping, her arousal coating her inner thighs, the scent of her need thick in the air. The first brush of him against her folds made her shudder, an electric jolt that had her biting her lip to stifle a moan.

 

“Watch me take you inside,” she whispered, her voice dropping to a sultry purr. Slowly, deliberately, she lowered herself. The head, broad and unyielding, spread her lips, stretching her entrance with a pressure that bordered on pain. Zelda gasped, her eyes fluttering shut as the initial inch breached her. “OH GODDESS… YOU’RE SO FUCKING THIIIICK! LINK, IT’S LIKE I’M BEING SPLIT OPEEEN!!!” Her pussy clenched instinctively, resisting and welcoming all at once, the slick heat yielding inch by torturous inch.

 

She sank lower, feeling every ridge, every vein as it dragged against her inner walls. Less than three inches in, and already she felt full, impossibly so. Her pink labia stretched taut around his girth, the sensation a burning ache that bloomed into pleasure. “FUCK… IT’S STRETCHING ME SO WIIIDE! I CAN FEEL YOU, RESHAPING ME INSIDE!” She gasped, a whimper escaping as she rocked her hips, working him deeper, deeper, DEEPER! The pressure built, her walls convulsing around him like a vice, squeezing in rhythmic pulses that made Link groan beneath her.

 

Zelda’s hands braced on his chest, nails digging into the hard planes of muscle as she lifted slightly, then dropped back down. Even deeper now, the head nudging against a sensitive spot deep inside, sending sparks up her spine. “SO, DEEEP!! OH SHIT, YOU’RE FILLING ME UP SO FULL, IT’S LIKE YOUR FUCKING MY ENTIRE BODY!!!” Vulgarity spilled from her lips unbidden, the princess facade shattering under the onslaught of lust. She was no longer the refined Princess of Hyrule Castle; she was just a woman, a nymphomaniac with her urges unleashed in full fury!

 

She began to ride him in earnest, hips rising and falling in a slow, grinding rhythm at first. Each descent forced more of him inside, her pussy stretching to accommodate the impossible girth. She felt him bottom out, the head pressing firmly against the top of her womb, a deep, insistent pressure that made her toes curl. “OH FUCK, LIIIINK! YOU’RE SO DHEEEEP… I… I CAN FEEL YOU IN MY STOMACH, STRETCHING ME OUT LIKE A GLOVE!” Her voice cracked on a moan, the words tumbling out as she picked up speed, her ass slapping against his thighs with wet, obscene smacks.

 

The sensations were overwhelming: the burn of the stretch, the fullness that left no room for anything but him, the way her walls clung to every contour of his cock. Zelda’s head fell back as she bounced harder. “IT’S TOO MUCH, YOUR COCK, RUINING ME! AH LINK! SO THICK, SO DHEEEP! IT’S LIKE A BATTERING RAM IN MY CUUUUNT!” She ground down, circling her hips to feel him stir her depths, the friction igniting every nerve. Her clit rubbed against his pubic bone with each thrust, adding layers of pleasure that built like a tidal wave.

 

The first orgasm hit her without warning, crashing through her body like lightning. Zelda’s pussy spasmed around him, clenching in violent waves that milked his length. “OH GODDESS, I’M CUMMING! LINK, YOUR HUGE DICK IS MAKING ME CUUUUUM!!!!” She screamed it, voice echoing off the cedar walls, her body arching as ecstasy ripped through her. Fluid gushed around him, soaking his balls and the sheets beneath, her thighs quivering uncontrollably. But she didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. The nympho in her demanded more, her hips slamming down faster, vulgar pleas spilling from her lips.

 

“KEEP FILLING ME, HERO! STRETCH THIS TIGHT LITTLE PUSSY UNTIL IT BREEAAKSSS!!” she screamed and leaned forward, hands on his shoulders for leverage, riding him like a wild stallion. He was buried to the hilt, her ass flush against his balls, the depth reaching places that made her vision blur. “AHHHN, I CAN FEEL EVERY INNNCH… THROBBING, INSIDE ME! SO DEEP YOU’RE IN MUH WOOOMB, FUCKING MUH CORE!” Her words were slurred with lust, breathy and desperate, as another climax built swiftly on the heels of the first.

 

Zelda’s rhythm turned frantic, her breasts bouncing wildly, nipples hard and aching in the air. The stretch was exquisite torture, her walls molded around him, every vein imprinting on her sensitive flesh. “SO BHIIIIG! WRECKING ME! I LOVE IT! IT HURTS SO GOOOOD!!! POUND MY INSIDES MORE, MAKE ME YOUR COCK SLAVE!!!” She ground down hard, rotating her hips to feel him stir her depths, the pressure inside sending jolts of pleasure-pain that coiled tighter in her belly.

 

The second orgasm exploded through her, more intense than the first. “YEESSSS!!! FUCK YESSSSS!!! CUMMING! CUMMING AGAIN ON YOUR MASSIVE DHIIIICK!!!” screamed Zelda, her pussy convulsed wildly around his girth, trying to expel and pull him deeper all at once. She wailed, body shaking, nails raking down his chest leaving red trails. Cum squirted out in hot spurts, drenching them both, the lewd sounds of her riding amplifying: SQUELCH, SLAP, SMACK, PLAP. Zelda’s mind fragmented, lost in the haze of sensation, the burn of the stretch fading into bliss, the depth making her feel claimed, owned.

 

But still, she rode on, insatiable. Sweat beaded on her skin, the room thick with the musk of sex. “DON’T STOP! BY THE GODDESS, YOUR COCK IS SO PERFECT! SO THICK, SPLITTING MY PUSSY WIDE OPEN! SO LONG, CONFORMING MY WOMB AROUND IT!” She straightened up, hands roaming her own body, pinching and pulling her own nipples, then sliding her hand down to rub her clit in furious circles. The added stimulation sent her spiraling toward a third peak.

 

She looked down at him, eyes locking with his, “AHHN, CAN YOU FEEL IT, MY PUSSY’S GRIPPING YOUR COCK SO TIGHT, MILKING YOUR BALLS FOR THEIR CUM! MY PUSSY WANTS IT, NEEDS IT!” she moaned.

 

Link’s hands gripped her hips, guiding her slams, his own thrusts meeting hers from below. The added force drove him even deeper, if possible, the head battering her cervix with each upward buck. Zelda’s vulgarity peaked, words a torrent of filth.

 

“FUCK ME HARDER! RAM THAT MONSTER COCK INTO MY GREEDY HOLE! STRETCH IT UNTIL IT BECOMES A HOLE JUST FOR YOUR DIIIICK!” Her voice was a growl now, raw from screaming, but laced with pure ecstasy. The sensations overwhelmed: the girth prying her apart, walls fluttering in protest and delight; the length plumbing her depths, stirring her guts with every thrust.

 

The third orgasm built slower, like a crescendo of fire. Zelda’s hips pistoned, ass bouncing, pussy devouring him whole. “SO DHEEEP, YOU’RE REARRANGING MY INSHIIIIDESH I CAN FEEL YOU IN MY BELLY, PULSING, THROBBING, IT’S SO HAAAWWT!” She clenched deliberately, squeezing him with her inner muscles, drawing a guttural groan from Link. The friction intensified, her clit grinding against him, the stretch now a constant, delicious burn.

 

When it hit, the climax shattered her. “CUMMING AGAIN! YOUR DICK’S MAKING MY HEAD EXPLODE, AHH LIIIINK!!! FILL MY SLUTTY CUNT!” Her body seized, pussy clamping down in rhythmic spasms, waves of pleasure crashing endlessly. She screamed, back arching, vision whiting out as ecstasy consumed her. Fluid flooded out, soaking everything, her thighs slick and trembling. Zelda collapsed forward onto his chest, still impaled, hips twitching in aftershocks.

 

But even then, her lust wasn’t sated. She lifted her head, lips brushing his ear. “MORE! I NEED MORE! MORE OF YOU INSIDE ME!!!” Her voice was wrecked, but the fire in her eyes promised she was far from done.

 

Zelda’s hands gripped her own breasts, squeezing them hard enough they might bruise. They felt so heavy and full, pale skin flushed rose-gold in the firelight. They swayed with the rhythm of her hips when she let go, bouncing and jiggling with every downward slam, nipples stiff and aching for touch.

 

Sweat beaded between them, trickling down the valley of her cleavage, catching the glow of the hearth. The air was thick with the scent of sex, salt and musk and the faint sweetness of baked apples still lingering from the forgotten tray. The slap of her ass against his thighs echoed wetly, her soaked pussy gliding up and down his length with obscene, slick sounds. Each time she rose, her walls clung to him, reluctant to let go; each time she dropped, the head of his cock drove deep, kissing her cervix with a jolt that made her toes curl.

 

“OH FUCK!” The curse tore from her throat, raw and unrestrained, as another climax crested. Her back arched, breasts thrusting skyward, jiggling wildly as her hips pistoned. The stretch was exquisite, her pussy molded around his girth like it had been made for this, every vein dragging against her sensitive walls.

 

She ground down hard, circling her hips to feel him stir her depths, and the words spilled out in a breathless rush: “YOUR MASTER SWORD IS AMAZING!” Her voice cracked on the last syllable, pleasure shredding her composure. She reached down, fingers splaying over her lower belly, feeling the massive bulge where he pressed inside her. “DHEEEEP, SO DHEEEEP, FUCKING MY WOOOOMB!!!”

 

Another orgasm slammed into her, harder than the last. Her pussy spasmed, clenching in violent waves, milking him as she screamed, “I CAN’T STOP CUMMING!”

 

The words were barely out before Link moved.

 

In one fluid surge, he sat up, arms banding around her waist. Zelda gasped as he flipped them, the world tilting, her back hitting the mattress with a soft *whump*. The comforter bunched beneath her shoulders; her legs were still wrapped around him, but now he loomed above, pinning her beneath his weight. His cock never left her, just shifted, driving even deeper in the new angle. Zelda gasped, breasts heaving with every pant, nipples brushing his chest as he settled between her thighs.

 

Link’s hands found her wrists, pressing them gently but firmly into the pillow on either side of her head. His eyes, dark and fierce, locked onto hers. The firelight painted gold across the sweat-slick planes of his body, highlighting every scar, every muscle. Zelda’s legs tightened around his hips, heels digging into the small of his back, urging him on.

 

She was utterly, gloriously pinned, and she had never felt more alive!

 

Zelda’s ankles locked behind Link’s back, calves flexing as she hauled him deeper, heels digging into the small of his spine. The new angle drove him impossibly far, the thick head of his cock invading her womb with every thrust, a blunt, delicious pressure that made her vision spark white at the edges.

 

“FUCK ME LIKE A BEAST, LINK!” she snarled, voice shredded raw, nails raking down his shoulders. “BREED MY ROYAL PUSSY AND GET ME PREGNAAAANT!!!”

 

Each word snapped in rhythm with his hips, her pussy clenching greedily around him. THRUST, “GET ME PREGNANT!” THRUST, “GET ME PREGNANT!” THRUST, “GET ME PREGNANT!” The chant grew louder, filthier, her breasts bouncing wildly between them, sweat-slick skin slapping wetly.

 

Link’s control snapped. He slammed home, hips pistoning, the bedframe groaning in protest. A low, guttural groan tore from his throat as his cock swelled, pulsing, and he came, hot, thick ropes flooding her depths. Zelda’s orgasm detonated at the same instant, her walls spasming in violent waves, milking every drop as she screamed, “YES, BREED ME!”

 

They collapsed in a tangle of limbs, sweat-soaked and trembling, Link’s weight pinning her to the mattress as aftershocks rippled through them both. Zelda’s legs stayed locked around him, holding him inside, a lazy, sated smile curving her lips as their mingled release leaked warm between her thighs.

 

They lay tangled for what felt like hours, limbs heavy, skin cooling where sweat had begun to dry. The fire had settled into a low, steady crackle, throwing amber light across the rumpled sheets and the scattered clothes like battlefield casualties. Link’s heartbeat thudded slow and strong in Zelda’s ear; her own pulse still pounding in her throat, between her legs, in the tips of her fingers. Every breath carried the scent of them, salt, sex, cedar, and the faint sweetness of those long-forgotten baked apples.

 

Zelda traced idle circles over the scar on Link’s shoulder, her mind drifting. Purah’s voice echoed in her head, gleeful and conspiratorial: ‘Trust me, Your Highness, dirty talk is like a Zonai charge cell for the libido. Say the filthiest thing you can think of and feel yourself short-circuiting.’ She’d laughed then, cheeks burning, but gods, Purah had been right. The words had poured out of her like a spell, each syllable cranking the pleasure higher until she’d shattered around him again and again.

 

The afterglow ebbed, leaving a pleasant ache in her thighs and a hollow flutter in her stomach that had nothing to do with lust. Link shifted first, pressing a kiss to her temple before easing out of her embrace. The loss of his warmth made her pout.

 

“Link?” she murmured, pushing up on one elbow. “Is something wrong?”

 

He turned back, that soft, crooked smile tugging at his mouth. He traced a circle on her stomach before saying, “You’re still hungry.”

 

It wasn’t a question.

 

As if summoned, her stomach let out a mortifying, cavernous growl that echoed off the rafters. Zelda’s face flamed crimson. She yanked the sheet up to her chin, mortified laughter bubbling out of her.

 

“Traitor,” she muttered to her own belly, then flicked a sheepish glance at Link. “Fine. Yes. Starving, apparently.”

 

---

 

(Story by User: SailorIo)