The Kingdom ch. 02

Chapter Two — The Final Jewel

King Atheling watched as his mother lifted the lock and quickly slipped out into the hall closing the door behind her. It had been all had imagined it would be . . . and more . . . much, much more. In the beginning, she had been repulsed and shocked by his demands, but in the end, she had capitulated and had even had an orgasm. So there must be some element of arousal and excitement for her, he sickly thought.

Shrugging on his heavy, felt cloak, Atheling stepped over to the heavy, wood door that led out onto his balcony. Turning the cumbrous iron lock, he pushed the door open and stepped out into the blustery afternoon. Snow was falling even heavier now, forming into drifts along the castle wall. Atheling stood watching, looking down into the courtyard, clutching his robe around him tightly. Big, fluffy flakes of snow were dotting the black felt of his cloak, the white starkly contrasting the black material momentarily before they melted. The wind had picked up and now was gathering up the white snow and whirling it around in eddies and swirls. The white snow somehow reminded him of his mother’s pure, white milk. He had never tasted anything so sweet and rich. And he would have more later in the afternoon. He could hardly wait for her to return to his arms. He wanted to go to her and tell her how much he loved her, wanted her to be his queen, but she must have time to come to the realization of the new state of affairs between them. And she must come to him willingly. He was the king, after all.

Finally, Atheling grew cold and tired of watching the swirling snow and stepped back inside the warmth of his chambers. Closing the door, he hurriedly walked over to the roaring fire and held his hands out to warm them. After a few moments, he tossed a couple more logs on the fire, then refilled his goblet and rang for his valet.

His valet, Anton must have been reading his mind as he shortly appeared with a heaping plate of food. Thanking him, the king dismissed him and sat down to gorge himself on the meat and bread. Must rebuild my strength, he told himself. The morning of fucking had burned off much energy and he would need even more when his mother returned in the afternoon.

The plate was soon empty as was the jug of wine he had been working on all morning. But that wasn’t a problem as thoughtful Anton had brought a second jug with his meal. Shuffling back over to his jewel-encrusted chair in front of the fire place, he sat down. As he sat watching the flames lick at the logs, his thoughts drifted back to the morning and his mother. Would she ever come to love him as he loved her, he wondered? Only time would tell, he sleepily thought. The food, the wine and the warmth of the fire soon took its toll on him and he found himself nodding off to sleep . . .

He was woke by a soft tapping on his door. Looking out the loophole, he could see that the shadows had lengthened and that it was mid-afternoon. Pushing up out of his chair, he slowly walked over to the door. As he did, his big, limp prick flopped about lifelessly, but he knew that it wouldn’t be limp for long as he pictured his naked mother standing before him, waiting for his next command.

Opening the door, he saw his mother standing in the hall waiting for him. She was wearing a long, flowing robe of black velvet. The opening running down the front of the robe was trimmed in black satin and she had it clenched in her fist holding it closed as she stepped into his chambers. She quickly stepped over to the fire and stood in front of it facing him as he quickly closed the door behind him. He saw her eyes dart down to his dangling penis as he strolled over to where she stood watching him. Her clenched fist slowly released its hold on her robe and the king caught a glimpse of bare skin through the opening as it parted ever so slightly. At her neck, there was a large, satin bow which apparently held her gown closed as she stood with her arms at her sides meekly looking back at him.

Reaching out, he took the ends of the satin bow in his fingers and slowly pulled on them. The bow unraveled in his fingers and her gown went slithering down off her sloped shoulders to fall into a puddle at her feet. She was naked under the robe except for a long strand of shimmering, white pearls. Atheling stood in a fog of arousal as he gazed at her beautiful, naked body. (PIC)

“You are so beautiful, my queen,” Atheling murmured, feasting his eyes on her naked splendor.

“If the king so deems it, then so be it,” she murmured back, demurely dropping her eyes, slowly lowering her hands down under her huge, drooping breasts and cupping them. “I have done as the king ordered and brought milk to quench his thirst.”

Then as he stood gaping down at her quivering breasts, she gave them a gentle squeeze and milk began to ooze out of both big, puffy nipples. Atheling didn’t say a word as he took her by the hand and led her across the room to his rumpled bed.

Leaning down over the bed, he let go of her hand and quickly crawled up onto the bed. As she stood quizzically watching him, he rolled over onto his back.

“Come, my beautiful queen,” Atheling whispered. “Quench my thirst with your sweet milk.”

“Yes, my Lord,” she mumbled, crawling up onto the bed. Then she lifted a long, lovely leg up into the air and slowly dropped it down on the other side of his body. Straddling him, she slowly leaned down and inched up the bed until her giant, drooping breasts were dangling down just above his waiting lips. Staring up at the beautiful treasures, he felt a hard, swollen nipple brush across his lips. Easing his tongue out, he tickled it across the milk-covered pap. Then, as he opened his mouth, the queen bent her arms and lowered the big, puffy nipple down between his lips.

Pursing his lips around the big, purple nipple, he lifted his hands up to her breast. Wrapping his hands around the huge udder, Atheling began to squeeze and pull on it. Gently at first, he milked her as if she was one of the herd of royal cows brought up from the royal dairy to satisfy his thirst for milk. Her beautiful breasts were so large, they even reminded him of a milk-laden udder of one of the docile cows.

As he milked her, warm milk began to squirt out into his mouth covering his tongue with its frothy sweetness. Her milk, rich and thick even reminded him of cow’s milk, except her milk was much sweeter.

Then, as he sucked the sweet elixir from her breast, he raised his knee up into the air underneath her. Raising his leg, running his knee along her soft, smooth inner thigh, he worked his knee up until he found the hot, oozing hole between her spread legs. Still sucking and pulling on her dangling tit, he began to gently rub his knee back and forth across her pussy. As he did, he felt her begin to grind herself down against his knee, coating it with the hot, sticky juices flowing out of her ripe pussy.

The air around them reeked with the pungent bouquet of the thick, rich juices pouring out of her pussy. There was so much of the sticky goo flowing out of her, it was running down off his knee and trickling down his hairy leg.

Finally, the flow of milk from her dangling breast began to dry up. Deciding to save the other breast for later, he let go of the drained nipple and gently pushed it away from his mouth. As he did, she moved to the side, swinging her other giant breast over his mouth.

“My thirst for your sweet milk is quenched for the moment,” he mumbled out through his foam-covered lips and then ran his tongue around them to lick away the frothy white foam.

He watched as her giant tits bobbled and shook when he dropped his leg back down on the bed and she pushed up onto her knees.

“Tis time for an afternoon ride, my queen,” he grinned, reaching down through her legs to his fully hardened penis.

“My Lord?” she asked, a puzzled look on her pretty face.

“Your steed awaits thee,” he said, lifting his rock-hard cock up into the air just behind her butt as she sat on his belly looking at him.

“My Lord?” she asked again.

“Surely you rode the King’s steed before,” Atheling mocked her.

Turning, she looked over her shoulder down at his jutting prick as he held it.

“Never, my Lord, never,” she mumbled, her face turning bright red as she turned to face him again. “The king, he, he always, he always . . .”

“Your new king wishes for you to ride his steed,” Atheling sneered up at her. “Don’t you want to please your new king and ride his big cock?”

“It, it seems such a, a coarse and vulgar way to, to . . .” she complained. “Maybe something a dairy maid might do. But not a queen. That is below a queen’s station . . .”

“Come, my queen, I am growing weary of your endless protests. They are becoming rather boorish . . .”

“But, my king . . .” she feebly whined.

“Mount your steed,” he told her, anger creeping into his voice as he reached out and ran his fingers over her quivering breasts. “There is no one here to witness your whorish behavior, so I won’t tell you again—mount your steed.”

Grabbing her around the waist, he roughly shoved her backwards until her hot, oozing cunt was resting atop his big, hard cock.

“My Lord . . .” she whimpered, “please . . .”

“Mount it,” he snarled, digging his fingers into her waist and lifting her up into the air.

Then as she stood on her knees, her pussy hovering above his cock, he thrust his hand down and grabbed hold of his cock again. Jerking it up into the air, he began to push her down with his other hand. Feeling the head of his cock brush up against the soft, giving flesh between her legs, he quickly rubbed it back and forth several times to coat it with slippery juices oozing out of her.

“My, my, the queen’s cunt is so wet and so slippery. The king thinks that maybe the queen’s protestations might be only to deceive the king when she really does want to ride the king’s steed,” he snarled at her.

Then he felt the head of his cock find the slippery opening of her vagina and slip inside.