Camelot Ch. 01bymovies_maidens_n_manmeat©
Camelot Ch. 1: Lancelot and Guinevere
Night of forbidden anal passion
Inspired by the movie “Camelot”
It happened in legendary times when King Arthur led his loyal knights in a crusade to unite his country. His Royal court became a mighty citadel: Camelot, the home of the Knights of the Round Table. There were many knights but no knight fought harder, loved deeper or suffered greater than the mighty Lancelot du Lac. While he pledged his sword to serve the King, Lancelot’s heart however, belonged to the Queen, Guinevere. According to ancient chronicles the fall of Camelot began one tragic night when Guinevere and Lancelot yielded at last to their forbidden passion…
Guinevere hurried in the darkness of the evening over the long corridors of Camelot. She shivered, the thin silk of her nightgown barely protecting her against the cold. There was another reason she was shivering. Now she had made her decision, she experienced a strange feeling building up in her stomach. Her heart was beating fast. Why she felt so restless now she knew what to do? She knew… it was not indecision what made her shiver again; it was anticipation… a guilty desire… How long had she been dreaming about this moment? Those long nights when her husband was away to fight a war? How often she tossed and turned in her lonely bed, thinking of her champion, his mighty lance, his soft kisses. Yes, they met almost every other day but they never actually betrayed their King. His only touch was when he kissed her hand. He used to do this a couple of times when they spent an afternoon and at the end Guinevere would feel great pleasure when she felt the soft touch of his lips on her hands, imagining he would kiss another spot where she needed it most … But now she was hurrying over the long corridor, shielded by the darkness, hurrying to his bedroom he had specifically chosen at the other side of the castle to avoid the temptations of the flesh…
Lancelot had been awake for some time. As a soldier used to sleeping in a tent, even with strong colds, when in the castle he slept naked, just covered by a sheet. Although it was a cool evening, he felt hot, tormented by feverish dreams. Dreaming about his Queen. He had realized for a long time his love was meant to fail and it would be wise for him to leave. But thinking about Guinevere, if ever he would leave her, when would he go? He twisted and turned when he heard a sound at the door. With the instincts of a warrior he immediately was awake and alert. When the door opened and light was beaming in Lancelot couldn’t believe his eyes. The silhouette against the light showed the perfect outline of a statuesque body. A silhouette he would recognize among thousands. It was Guinevere. Her thin nightgown was almost transparent. With his heart bouncing in his throat Lancelot saw her wide spread legs spread and the shadow of her breasts…
The Queen entered his room and he heard the door fall into its lock. Guinevere looked at him. She had no doubts as she let her nightgown fall to the ground. No words were needed to give him the reason why she had come. Her glorious nakedness spoke its own words. Wide-eyed, Lancelot looked at her beautiful face; the magnificent alabaster shine of her skin, the wealth of her luscious breasts and the slender elegance of her long tapering legs, ending in the mystery of her golden triangle. Their mutual pent-up desires, restrained for many, many months, exploded in their passionate kisses and the contact of their heated, naked bodies. His arousal, throbbing and pulsing, brushed against her naked thigh, the contact taking her breath away in passion and desire. Their embrace seemed to last for hours till Lancelot fell on his knees before her, naked and all.
He looked up to her. In his eyes Guinevere read his unconditioned love and his desire, the intensity matching hers. His hands went up, touching her breasts. His mouth touched the skin of the diamond-shaped shield of her flat belly. She felt his warm breath streaking on her sensitive skin, turning the smooth surface into goose bumps. Then his mouth moved lower and lower. She took his hands between hers, forcing him to look her in her eyes.
“Thou shall not kneel for me, Sir Lancelot. I did not come here as thy Queen, but carried by my passion. I came here because I no longer could withstand my urges to unite my flesh with thine.”
She saw his joy and expectation.
“However, our union will be wrongful, my knight. I can not allow thee to enter my golden fleece which is rightfully dedicated to my husband and thy King.”
She smiled when she watched his joy switching into despair. She bent over to him, her breasts dangling just before his eyes and softly whispered in his ear. “Thou art a warrior, my knight. If thou find the front gate closed and protected, I am sure thou will find another entrance to penetrate and plunder an unresisting citadel.“
Lancelot gasped when she turned around in his arms. His mouth, denied further exploration of her golden fleece now faced her lower back, just north of two impressive mountains of pliable flesh. With an ardor, so characteristic of this fierce knight, Lancelot resumed his explorations, now moving into the deep humid valley between the arse cheeks of his Queen. His roving tongue found a humid environment and his nose signaled a musky smell, emerging from the far depth. Guinevere was moaning softly, appreciative of his progress.
“I find a deep cleft, milady… I’ll have to explore it with my finger…”
Lancelot ran his finger through the whole length of the deep canyon… from north to south and back. As a cautious leader, he repeated the whole trip to make sure of his findings. Guinevere shivered in the heat of her delights. By Jove, this pleasure was unbearable!
Gratefully Lancelot spread her trembling arse cheeks, exposing a beautiful rose-hued crater.
“I see a small opening, my lady. I shall explore if it is fit for penetration…”
Guinevere was breathing heavily.
“Proceed Sir Lancelot, but please hurry because my surging tide tells me it is imperative a breach be realized shortly…”
Encouraged Lancelot brought one finger in the puckered opening. First he slipped his finger in to the first knuckle, than the second and finally the whole length of his finger was embedded in her royal arse. Then the phalanx advanced as he systematically added a second and a third finger to the yelping delight of his female guest
“I think I found an entrance for penetration to thy satisfaction, milady…” he reported.
“Show me the results of thy explorations.” Guinevere moaned.
Lancelot removed his fingers from her arse and reached forward to show his Queen how wet they had become. When she saw his wet fingers she gripped his wrist, put them in her mouth and slowly began licking them clean. Guinevere performed this lewd act deliberately. It was not right for her to be treated like a Queen. Instead she should be treated like a wench, performing all nasty acts those unlucky subjects were ordered to perform. It would make her feel better because she would be punished and still would give her lover delight.
Lancelot rose and presented his tool, which already was in battering mode. Guinevere sighed in admiration. The stories in admiration of his legendary sword, told among the knights and squires, were surpassed only by the stories, told in wonder of his fleshy sword told among the ladies in waiting, even reaching the untouchable Queen Guinevere. Stories of his agility in handling his sword in bringing death to his enemies were only surpassed by other stories of his agility in handling his fleshy sword in bringing the sweet death to the ladies in waiting, lucky enough to whisper confessions of this experience.
Guinevere remembered how Lancelot saved the life of Sir Aelfrith, the husband of the lovely lady Oruale, one of her ladies in waiting. Gratefully Sir Aelfrith had received the protector of his life at his castle. Sir Aelfrith had some troubles satisfying his beautiful lady because of his injuries he sustained. As result he asked Lancelot to perform marital duties in his place when he sent Lady Oruale to visit him nightly to pay her respects. Sir Aelfrith obviously had more confidence in his lifesaver performing this delicate task than in the numerous bawdy Knights and Squires who used to flock around his spouse. When Lady Oruale visited Lancelot’s bedroom those hot summer nights, she not only paid her respects but also showed her gratitude by giving up her last virginal orifice. A week later Lady Oruale accompanied Lancelot to Camelot to convey the regards of her husband to the King for making Lancelot available. During her entire visit to Camelot Lancelot also remained available to the lovely lady to perform the marital duties of her husband. Lady Oruale was very passionate and vocal in their mating, especially because Lancelot felt it was his duty to expand the elasticity of her recently inaugurated corn hole for the future benefit of her husband. Since she was a guest of honor, her bedroom was close to the bedroom of the Royal Couple and her sounds of ecstasy were clearly audible to Guinevere. When she passed the guest bedroom one night, the sounds seemed even louder because the door accidentally was left slightly ajar. Guinevere couldn’t resist the temptation to peek through the crack to observe the couple in carnal bliss. Memories of the impressive mast penetrating the small hole of Lady Oruale, followed by the shocking sight of the gory flesh pillar withdrawn from her clinging arse to be plunged straight into her mouth haunted the Queen for months. During her stay in Camelot each morning it was almost impossible to persuade a blushing Lady Oruale to sit down, much to the amusement of other ladies of the Court.
Guinevere never did have the pleasure to see his mighty weapon in its entire natural splendor. She knew already, Lancelot was the tallest and strongest of her knights. Whispered reports of some ladies in waiting and her own brief observation were consistent with the claim his battering ram was over ten inches long. His fleshy weapon was said to be the longest and the strongest, its legendary endurance and power only matched by the power of his sword of steel. And now Lancelot’s magnificent monolith of flesh finally was disclosed and presented to her. Guinevere knelt before him, resting on her hands, wetting her mouth in anticipation. The purple helmet of his lance was just inches away from her lips. It was enormous and fulfilled all her feverish expectations. Just the knowledge this wonderful head of his battering ram would invade her private parts made her all wet.
“Step forward, Sir Lancelot. And I shall honor thy lance.”
Lancelot held his breath when Guinevere’s mouth closed over the engorged knob of his penis. Her lips flattened to accommodate length of his lance. He watched as his beloved started to slide her distended lips over his thickly veined shaft. He started moving himself, pumping his shaft deeper and deeper in her sucking mouth.
Passionately Guinevere started her work of love on his genitals. She sucked in his knob, licked and kissed the shaft from the side, weighed his heavy balls in her hand before she caressed and licked them with her playful tongue. Then she let the length of his shaft enter her gluttonous, vibrant mouth again. In her daydreams he had reached the far depths of her throat and desperately she tried to gulp more of his man meat in. She looked up to him.
“Assist me… I want thy lance reaching the back of my throat.”
Of course Lancelot complied with her command. He always came to the rescue of ladies in distress and now his Queen was in urgent need of rescue from her pulsating distress. First he carefully held her head, tenderly as if he handling something extremely fragile. But it took not long till he grasped her beautiful face in an iron grip while he relentlessly forced his mighty meat deeper and deeper. His penis almost completely disappeared behind her soft, yielding lips.
With her eyes closed, Guinevere felt how he hit targets in the far depths of her throat. Almost choking she gasped for air till she opened her mouth wide again. Most knights would have unloaded now. For Lancelot it was just intense foreplay, a build-up to batter her mouth. This time his tool didn’t slide in tenderly, but with fierce deep thrusts, till her saliva was drooling out of her mouth. As a good lover he instinctively had felt what his lady wanted. Wordlessly Guinevere turned around so that her bottom was in front of him with her dark eye winking for him to come inside…
“I am awaiting thee, Sir Lancelot… Spear me with thy lance.”
Guinevere felt extremely excited, eager to submit to his wishes, to provide him with all the pleasures her body could provide to him. Finally she would feel his iron force inside her. Lancelot let his hands rove over the whole length of her backside. He looked down at the magnificent view offered to him. Guinevere had the backside of an adult woman with all the ripe fullness of rich, creamy flesh. Yet her arse was so tiny that it seemed almost virginal. Her anal flower had all the beauty and serenity of a Royal arse. It would be a delight to split the portals open and probe the hot inside. Lancelot noticed a charming mole, just next to rim, drawing even more attention to her bunghole. His cock was still coated by the saliva of her oral attention. He let a drop of its abundance drop in her puckered rose. He saw how her sphincter nervously reacted and then slowly absorbed the liquid.
Guinevere shuddered when she felt the drop fall on her exposed anus. She moaned in heat when he nosed his knob against the entrance of her hot bowels. “Now it will happen.” She thought. It was so forbidden, so devious, and yet… it would be so delightful… She hoped he would be not too considerate. He was her champion of so many tournaments. He had fought for her and conquered her heart. Now she wanted him to conquer her arse and she would honor him… with her arse… and then with her mouth…
Guinevere sobbed when his red-hot member entered her insides in a slow but inescapable movement. It brought her excruciating pain and dazzling delight at the same time. Wild thoughts and memories flashed though her mind. He is sliding the whole length of his member in my arse… Repressed memories suddenly surfaced of Lady Oruale climaxing when his member was shoved halfway up her tiny arse. He will not stop halfway… he will spear me with all his long ten inches… When she finally felt his balls rubbing against the back of her thighs, she knew he had fulfilled all her expectations.
As always Lancelot read her perfectly. He was determined to give her the best he had to offer. He would stretch her sphincter and would make sure she would not be able to escape his penetration. When he was halfway in, her hips started cavorting but his iron grip forced his hot rod deeper in the molten lava, smoldering within her crater. Groaning and gasping he saw his flesh gradually disappear between the firm white butt cheeks of his beloved. Guinevere moaned in toe-curling delight when his hips started their piston-like movement.
“Ride me… Sir Lancelot, ride me….”
Lancelot really didn’t need any encouragement. With his lance straight ahead Guinevere’s Champion rode her like a mare. As in so many tournaments where he fought under her banner, he hit his target again and again. Only now the sounds of shattering lances and clattering swords were substituted by the slurping sounds of a hungry chute and the muffled sounds of dangling balls bumping into sweaty thighs. Inside her bottom his engorged knob stretched her rectal walls. Her sphincter clinched and expanded around him, masturbating his tender flesh. Suddenly a striking bolt hit her body. Her legs thrashed and jerked in paroxysmal ecstasy. Like he would have tightened the reins riding a rearing thoroughbred, Lancelot took a handful of her silky blonde locks and yanked her head back. And thus, Queen Guinevere, speared to the hilt, her glistening body, snorting and cavorting in carnal bliss, finally died the mort d’amour in sweet agony.
Respectfully Lancelot let the orgasmic waves slowly flow away. Lovingly he looked down at her beautiful body. At the dew of minute short blonde hairs that covered her shoulders and arms, at the slender contours of her neck, the pearly drops of sweat on her heaving body and her pink lips, slightly open to allow her to breath heavily.
Guinevere was slowly recovering from the orgasmic fireworks that had shaken her body when she heard his whispering voice.
“My Queen… You are so beautiful… Let me make love to thee again…
She knew this was the wrong way… and she had to do something about it… immediately…
“I cannot love thee as a Queen, Sir Lancelot. That would be wrong because I can do so only to the King. But let me love thee as a wench… You had wenches before… I know thou had your ribald years when thou were young… Force me to do all the nasty things those women did to pleasure thee… I do not deserve anything better…”
“My Queen… How could I? Didn’t I dedicate my sword and my life to serve thee as a Queen?”
Guinevere made a quick decision. This was going nowhere as she had considered already. She surely needed the services of his sword badly. But not the sword he spoke of…
“So be it… “
She rose. Nude as she was, Guinevere managed to assume the posture of a Queen.
“If thou really want to serve me, Sir Lancelot… Kneel down and kiss my feet…”
Lancelot was caught off guard by her command. It was completely different from what he expected. It seemed so out of character to him. But he never had questioned one of her requests in the past and he certainly wouldn’t start now. He had to kneel down deeply to kiss the foot she offered him. Tenderly he brushed his lips over her ankle, the returning slowly to her toes. Guinevere had trouble to remain standing. She better finished her plan or she would fall.
“Do thee worship the ground I walk on…?”
“Thou knowest I do, my Queen… I told thee so this morning”
“Then kiss it, Sir Lancelot. Kiss the floor where I place my foot now!”
Lancelot still didn’t have the faintest idea where this was leading to, but he was not going to argue. He lowered his head even more to kiss the floor where she just placed her feet before.
“Keep kissing the floor while I move over where I can watch thee crawling before me”
Lancelot started to feel uncomfortable when he realized Guinevere moved around him. With his naked bottom in the air he felt strangely vulnerable. He heard a scuffling sound behind him and then the silken touch of her hair caressing his cheeks. Before he even realized what was going on a tender, loving mouth was pressed on his anus… A tongue circling along the rim… pointing and pushing to come inside…
“Will thou accept me now as thy wench, milord? Do thou feel, how I am licking thine arse…!”?
Lancelot realized he was tricked. Guinevere had ambushed him and unexpectedly hit him at one of his most vulnerable spots. His tense body relaxed. He just surrendered himself to her obscene attentions. Her nose buried itself in the loose skin of his hairy balls. He heard the slurping noises of her mouth, sucking in the fluid around his anus. She stabbed her tongue in his murky depths as far as she could.
“Yield and accept me as thy wench or indeed I will leave thee in this room as thou are…”
Lancelot knew when he was defeated and never would be more delighted to accept defeat then now, being at the mercy of the lips and hands of this wonderful woman warrior. He turned around, clenched a handful of her blonde hair and forcefully pushed Guinevere to the bed,
“Bend over, wench.”