I work at Renaissance Faires. That probably sounds crazy to most people, but to those in my small subculture, it’s the best life possible.

I travel around the country with fellow artisans and performers, sleeping in tents and enjoying the simple life. We chat, drink, and have sex at night, and during the days, we demonstrate traditional handicrafts. I’m a leather worker, which means I make clothing, belts, and accessories, and sell them to drunk Faire visitors.

The great part about the Ren Faire life is the chance to meet new people while abandoning some of the social norms that usually constrain us. I used to work in admin before I got into this life, and I was utterly miserable as an office drone. My life is a thousand times better now, even if the money is inconsistent, and we’re somewhat at the mercy of weather and attendance.

One of my favorite things about the Ren Faire is how easy it is to get laid. It feels like the summer camps I remember attending as a horny adolescent, except everyone’s of age and I’m much more successful. Leatherworking has given me muscles women admire, and since the lifestyle involves a lot of booze, inhibitions get lowered quickly.

Last season, we were near Los Angeles at one of the best festivals — the Original Renaissance Pleasure Faire. It’s always a great festival because the film industry people make incredible costumes. The weather’s also good, which means business is booming. And the quality of the actors is high, which makes for fun scenes and improvisations.

But the main reason I love the Original Renaissance Pleasure Faire is because of a certain member of the Queen’s Court. “Queen Elizabeth I” makes frequent appearances at the Faire, and one of her ladies-in-waiting is a stacked brunette with the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. I’d encountered her multiple years in a row, and every time it felt like I’d been shot with Cupid’s arrow.

Her name is Rainey, and prior to the last season, I’d only spoken with her a few times, although we eye-fucked each other a lot. But last summer, I was determined to make an impression.

Many of the performers go home after the day’s activities are done, but some of us stick around for the party. One night we were gathered around a campfire eating hot dogs and drinking beer when Rainey and a few other ladies showed up. I shifted over on the bench to make room and was thrilled when she sat next to me.

“My lady,” I said, bowing with a ridiculous flair.

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to keep up the act.”

She was right, I didn’t need to, but Rainey was the kind of woman I wanted to treat like a princess. I wanted to worship her and bring her gifts and let her tromp all over me with her pretty silken shoes if she wanted to. And I’d had just enough beer to tell her so.

“It isn’t an act,” I said with more confidence than I should have felt. “I’d love to serve you, my lady.”

She giggled, then looked me up and down. “Oh, yeah?” she asked in a sultry voice. “What would you do?”

Now, I’m a confident guy — clearly, since I earnestly and wholeheartedly participate in Renaissance Faires — but something extra came over me then, a nearly preternatural confidence. I leaned in to murmur in her ear. “I would worship your body,” I told her. “I would lick and suck and kiss whatever you wanted me to. I would make you come over and over again.”

Her eyes widened, and we stared at each other for a few long moments. Then she set her beer down, grabbed my hand, and tugged me up off the bench.

I ignored the whistles of my friends as she led me away. “Which tent is yours?” she asked as we stumbled away from the fire pit.

I led her there, and as soon as the tent flap was closed behind us, she was on me. She kissed me passionately, and I was surprised and excited by her vehemence. Apparently I wasn’t the only one who’d appreciated our eye-fucking sessions.

I pushed her onto my huge air mattress. She’d changed back into jeans and a camisole, so I tugged them off, leaving her in a matching bra and panties set. She stripped my shirt off eagerly, then fumbled at the buttons on my pants.

I kissed from her neck down to her breasts as she loosened my pants and pushed her hand inside. She maneuvered past my boxer briefs and clasped my dick in one soft hand. A firm pump had me rolling my hips, already eager to get inside her.

“Call me ‘my lady’ again,” she whispered.

“You have the most beautiful breasts, my lady,” I said, tugging the cup of one bra aside so I could suck her nipple.

“What about my cunt?” she asked, and the lewd word sent a tingle over me.

I scooted back on the air mattress, cursing at how cramped the tent was, and then hooked my fingers around her panties and pulled them down.

Her pussy was perfect, just like the rest of her, and I breathed in, enjoying the scent. Then I dove in, licking her enthusiastically. I slid my fingers inside her pussy, awed at how wet she already was.

She tugged on my hair. “Tell me about my cunt,” she demanded.

“It’s the best cunt in the world, my lady,” I said. “I could eat it all night.”

I sucked on her swollen little clit, enjoying the way she shivered.

She seemed to like extra pressure, so I replaced my lips with my fingers and rubbed her clit in tight little circles. She gasped and lifted her legs so her feet were resting on my back. She grinded against my fingers, urging me on, and soon she was coming. I kept licking and rubbing through the whole shuddering experience, feeling like the most talented person on the planet.

She finally pushed my hand away.

“Your fingers are calloused,” she said, sounding happily dazed.

“I’m sorry, my lady.” Calling her that was getting progressively hotter.

Hair tussled, eyes shining with pleasure, Rainey grinned at me. “No need to be sorry,” she said. “It was fantastic.”

She guided me up to settle between her legs, then kissed me. My dick was hard, and it rubbed against her wet pussy with every shift of our hips. I pumped over her, wishing I could be inside all that wetness.

Rainey pushed me away, then turned us so I was lying on my back on the air mattress and she was kneeling over me. She rubbed her pussy over my dick a few times, getting it nice and wet. Then she put her hand over my throat.

“Do you have a condom?” she asked, squeezing slightly. “I want you to serve me with your thick cock.”

We were apparently engaged in a full-on role-play scenario. I fumbled for my bag and retrieved a condom, then unrolled it over myself. “Does this please you, my lady?” I asked, fisting my cock to show her how thick it was.

She considered it, as if weighing the merits of my dick. “It will please me more once it’s inside me.”

I held my erection in place while she raised her hips over me and guided me in. She was wet from her orgasm, and slid down easily, although she was still tight as a glove. She gasped and threw her head back once I was all the way inside. The tent was nearly dark, but the moon provided enough illumination that I could see the arched line of her back and the look of pleasure on her face. She raised her hips up and sank back down, stroking my dick with all that sweet, hot skin.

I held her hips and let her test out the fit of my body in hers. Soon she’d grown accustomed to it, and she shifted until she was leaning forward. The position allowed her to slam back onto my erection with a decent amount of force, and once she combined that with a hand over my throat to hold me in place, I thought I might die of pleasure. She was riding me, using me, and I wanted her to take everything she wanted.

The pressure at my throat was making me lightheaded. I told her so, and she loosened her grip a bit, then slapped me in the face. The sting startled me, but then my skin flushed with tingly warmth, and it just added to the pleasure.

“Again, my lady,” I told her.

She slapped me on the other cheek, then punched my shoulder. I moaned, loving the solid hit of her fist. I begged her for more, and she obliged, slapping and battering me with just enough pressure that the feel of the blows lingered. She leaned further forward and bit my neck, and that sharp spike of pain was better than anything. My hips jerked up, and my dick pressed deep. She gasped and threw her head back, so I did it again, bucking up into her with as much force as I could manage. I held her to my chest as my hips worked and my cock slammed into her.

“Make me come,” she commanded.

I was happy to oblige. I reached for her clit, then set up a solid rhythm with both my hips and my fingers. She was still on top, but I had all the power at that moment, and I used it mercilessly.

She gasped, and her body stiffened, then shook all over. She trembled through her orgasm, muttering incoherently as the pleasure washed over her. Then she collapsed onto my chest, breathing hard.

“Huzzah,” she murmured, sounding nearly drunk with pleasure.

I laughed at the classic Ren Faire cheer. “Huzzah,” I echoed. But my dick was still hard, and I burned with the need to come. I nudged up into her, and she sighed and sat up.

“Your turn,” she said, reaching behind herself to fondle my balls. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

I gripped her hips and bucked up into her like a runaway bronco, jamming my dick as deep as I could. Her nails dug into my chest as she rode me, and then I was coming, blissful and fierce. I shook and clenched as the release rocketed through me.

We cuddled on my air mattress afterwards. She nuzzled my neck. “I like it when you call me ‘my lady,’” she said.

I grinned. “Well, my lady, I’m always happy to serve.”