The fastest man alive!!

Mastur had completed his registrations at the Sex Festival.

His cock pounded in anticipation.

He turned to Jack. "Thanks for the silver coin, Jack... I owe you one..."

Jack took a long drag on his pipe, exhaling a cloud of thick smoke, his voice muffled by the haze.

"You better remember that," he said, smoke still exiting his breath. "I expect at least two gold coins in return. After all, I brought you this opportunity."

Mastur's smile faltered for a moment, his mind calculating the risk.

"That's if I win," he replied cautiously.

Jack chuckled, the corners of his mouth twisting into a sly smile. "You better win," he said.

It sounded like words of encouragement and at the same time a threat.

"Uh, yeah, sure..." said Mastur.

Felicity interjected at that moment, her gaze fixed on the bustling crowd.

"If everything goes according to plan, we could earn a fortune from your bet with the centaur guy," she said, sounding excited.

Jack's smirk widened as he puffed on his pipe, blowing more smoke rings into the air. "Ah, yes," he said, already amused.

"It'll work out.." Mastur nodded optimistically.

"The only problem is..." Jack stopped his smoking.

"Hm?" said Felicity and Mastur.

"Wankokparaʼs known for his skills in satisfying women, he's a frigginʼ centaur after all, that's the 'born with a silver spoon' equivalent of driving women over the edge. I highly doubt he'll fail."

Mastur's laughter burst forth, echoing through the courtyard.

"I wouldn't have made this bet if I wasn't confident in my abilities," he declared.

Confusion creased Felicity's brow as she exchanged glances with Jack.

"Wait, so you're...," she began, her voice trailing off in disbelief.

Mastur held up a hand. "Just wait and see," he said.

With that, several hours passed, the sun gradually dipping below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the grand manor.

...

Finally, it was Wankokpara's turn to ascend the steps and enter the grand manor.

Mastur made his way towards the towering minotaur.

"How's it going, Wankokpara?" he asked.

Wankokpara stretched his massive arms, the muscles rippling beneath his fur, a smirk formed at the corners of his lips.

"Nothing you need to know, I'm just getting ready to leave you in the dust."

Mastur took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead.

He knew what he had to do, what was at stake.

He pat Wankokpara, who stood tall and imposing, by the arm his massive frame was impressive as always.

"Wankokpara," Mastur began, his voice steady, "I just wanted to wish you good luck in your round with the Duchess."

Wankokpara's eyes widened in surprise. "Really?" he asked, clearly taken aback.

Mastur nodded. "Yes... We may have opposite goals in this bet of ours, but I believe in fair play. Let's make it a good match."

In that moment, Wankokpara had some respect for Mastur.

"I...I respect that," he said.

Mastur extended his hand, a sign of peace.

Wankokpara hesitated for a moment, his powerful hand dwarfing Mastur's in size.

But then, he reached out and clasped his hand firmly, their palms meeting in a brief but meaningful handshake.

The courtyard grew silent for a moment as their hands connected.

As they released their grip, Wankokpara turned and started to make his way towards the grand manor.

Mastur watched him go. "What an idiot..."

But before Wankokpara disappeared into the grand manor, he placed a hand on his crotch and a mad grin spread across his face.

"It looks like I'm gonna enjoy today's time with that whore of a duchess," he boldly declared.

He wrapped his hand around the contours of his cock.

"I haven't been this hard in a while..."

Just as Wankokpara reached the stairs leading up to the foyer, a figure awaited him.

Lord Algernon, the duchess's husband, stood there.

"Welcome."

He bowed his head slightly towards Wankokpara, acknowledging his presence.

"I hope you're ready for your time with the duchess," Algernon stated, a faint smile playing on his lips.

"Yes."

"It seems not many have managed to satisfy her today."

Wankokpara flexed his muscles, a display of assurance. "Until now," he replied confidently.

Algernon's smile widened as he bowed his head in a reverent gesture, signaling the way up the grand staircase.

"Please, this way," Algernon said.

The two figures ascended the stairs, their footsteps echoing off the ornate walls, until they reached the towering door that led to the duchess' chambers.

"You may enter now." Algernon gestured.

Wankokpara, the centaur man, exhaled a powerful breath, billowing steam from his snout as he placed his large hand on the cool, metal door handle.

As Wankokpara pushed open the door, a heady aroma of ammonia from urine mixed with a sweet, musky scent of cum assaulted his senses.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow highlighting the opulent decor and plush furnishings.

And there, in the center of the room, stood the duchess herself – Isobel, her naked form shimmering under the flickering candlelight.

Wankokpara's gaze swept over Isobel's body, taking in every intricate detail.

Traces of milk clung to her curves, glistening as they rolled down her skin. The sticky, white remnants of cum covered her body and face, adding an erotic allure to her already captivating presence. His eyes traveled lower, to the thick hair adorning her pussy, her breasts boasting a unique size and shape, and her buttocks displaying a perfect balance of meatiness and enticing curves.

It was impossible not to appreciate the exquisite proportions of her waist.

Isobel confidently placed a hand on her slender waist, her long brown locks cascading down her back.

Her piercing blue eyes stared at the centaur.

Stepping toward him, she reached out, her delicate hands landing on the bulge in his pants, causing his breath to hitch.

"Oh my, you're already hard?" she purred. "We haven't even begun," she added with a seductive smile.

Wankokpara couldn't help but grin at her playful comment.

"I suppose I was thinking about you more than I'd like to admit," he confessed.

Isobel smiled with her eyes narrowing a bit. "Cute, just don't get too attached..."

"I assure you I won't..."

Wankokparaʼs pulsating cock strained against the confines of his pants as Isobel's delicate hand continued to stroke and tease it with expert precision.

Waves of pleasure coursed through Wankokpara's body, causing him to moan unrestrainedly.

' I'm feeling a little too sensitive today... '

He didn't know why this was happening.

Sure, the duchess had mad hand job, but nothing that would make him feel this good so soon.

She hadn't even touched his cock yet.

However, the intensity of her touch was overwhelming, and before he could even comprehend what was happening, his cum erupted, staining his pants in a milky mess.

A sexual abomination had occurred that day...

The duchess was completely shocked

Truth be told, she had never even heard of a sexual phenomenon like this before.

After all, this was a centaur she was about to fuck.

And apparently, these creatures were not only packing a big, hard cock, but they could also go the distance in bed. But guess what? Wankokpara, an absolute disgrace, managed to do something that not even the most incompetent man could do.

He came under seconds of getting his cock rubbed by the duchess.

It was absolutely unbelievable.

She was frozen, flabbergasted, flummoxed.

There were no dependable words to fully describe her shock.

How the hell could something such as this occur? It was beyond the scope of imagination.

The fastest she'd ever seen a man cum was three minutes, but half a minute? That's just absurd.

It shouldn't even exist in the erotic world.

The duchess seethed with anger, her eyes ablaze with fury as she grabbed Wankokpara by the waistband of his trousers and forcefully yanked them down.

Her intention was clear - she wanted undeniable proof of his failure.

And there it was, unmistakably displayed before her disbelieving gaze: Wankokpara's flaccid manhood, limp and lifeless.

Standing up straight, her voice laced with venomous contempt, she coldly commanded him, "Leave my chambers!"

Wankokpara, his pride shattered, sank to his knees in desperate supplication. "Please, your grace," he pleaded. "I've pleasured you twice now. I can do it again, I swear!"

The duchess responded with a firm shake of her head.

"No, cretin. Leave, now."

Her words carried the weight of finality, leaving no room for negotiation.

In a state of complete shock, Wankokpara found himself lost and bewildered, unsure of how to react to this unthinkable turn of events. Before he knew it, however, the duchess lifted her foot and mercilessly planted it on his face. With a swift, powerful kick, she sent him hurtling across the floor.

The echoing thud of Wankokpara's body hitting the ground caught the attention of the palace guards, who rushed to him, gingerly lifting his limp form and swiftly escorting him away from the chambers.

Meanwhile, the duchess, elegantly draped in a silky sheet that clung to her every curve, strode purposefully towards her husband, Alegernon.

"Algernon!!"

"Yes, Isobel? Is anything the matter..."

"How dare you, Alegernon?" she hissed. "Did you honestly think that a feeble-minded centaur like that could satisfy me? I'm a woman who yearns for passion that lasts for hours, not mere moments of fleeting pleasure!"

Alegernon, utterly taken aback by his wife's outburst, stammered in confusion. "But, my love," he began. "I don't understand."

Indeed, no one could aside her, at the time.