Camelot Ch. 02

First she sat down before the mirror, openly showing the men how she prepared to receive them. First she ran a comb through her beautiful long strands of blonde hair. Both men just sat down, watching her movements in still admiration. After all those dirty jokes no word was said. The soft sound of her comb moving through her hair was clearly audible. Otherwise nothing was heard to disturb the magic of the moment. Carefully Guinevere applied the red pigment used to color her lips. Only then, when she felt perfect, she moved over to the bed holding her breasts for a short moment with both hands, as if she was reminding her audience not to neglect them. Only then she lay down on the bed in a position clearly showing her unconditional surrender, her head hanging down over the bottom, allowing her beautiful blond hair flow down like a gleaming waterfall, her freshly colored lips slightly opened as a barely burgeoning flower.

The victorious strike force acted swiftly, moving from different angles, creating two different fronts. The main force, led by the King himself, first explored her lips, a dexterous tongue opening up her languishing mouth. When the monstrous battering ram was presented, her defense evaporated. The invasion was massive, forceful and complete. Even reaching the furthermost areas of the moist cavern, far behind the spongy tonsils.

In an outflanking maneuver the light infantry under command of the Golden Knight moved from two sides, occupying two strategically positioned hills without much resistance. After thorough manual inspection, executed with immaculate military precision, the occupied territory was handed over to the infamous Interrogation Unit. The dreaded mouth overpowered the two remaining raisin-sized outposts. Out of sheer necessity capitulation was declared and the gates to the precious Golden Fleece opened wide to the enemy forces.

Even then there was no end of the provocations. The defense was in such disarray that when the two creamy banners were raised the white flag on top was missing and the banners were idly making circles in the air. As a consequence the Interrogation Unit ruthlessly proceeded to the Maiden Pearl, now even applying new methods of refined torture. The swollen pearl first was tormented by chafing it against an unshaven rough chin. Then it was repeatedly abused, taken between the teeth and gnawed mercilessly! Under the outrageous torture the pink pearl engorged so much blood it almost seem to burst.

Against such superior forces the Queen had a difficult time. Her hips were moving up and down in urgent need and deep from her invaded throat she uttered guttural groans. Ultimately her thirsty throat was flooded royally by a gush of salty slime. With her eyes closed Guinevere let the flood wash the inner lining of her mouth. She couldn’t swallow the abundance away, her mouth becoming a reservoir for his slimy sperm. Even then she was forced to pay tribute to her invaders, letting the royal orbs float on the lake of her mouth. Hairs tickled her nostrils, almost making her sneeze.

The time Guinevere needed to gulp the fluid filling her mouth away, the occupying forces used to change the guard. Her mouth now had to accommodate a lance so long it touched the very depths of her throat, while her nether parts received attention of the Royal Forces. As so often the occupying force took liberties in the interpretation of the prevailing rules of engagement. The ram introduced in her mouth started pumping away with a force usually reserved for another opening. In addition to the torture of her precious pearl, Guinevere had to endure the brutal invasion of a finger, worming itself into her most private place. Skewered again and trying not to be impolite, the Queen welcomed this encore performance with flailing extremities and jubilant yells. Reciprocally courteous the flesh-canon decided not to overburden her mouth and unloaded the thick globs of slime neatly on her face.

#

Guinevere looked down at the two men slumbering next to her in the large bed.

“Come, milord’s. You can’t sleep while the night is still so young!”

Unceremoniously she grabbed her husband in the balls. Startled and groggy Arthur looked around.

“Have a heart, Ginny. It was only minutes ago.

In the meantime Guinevere had pinched her other companion even more powerful in the balls.

“Come on, Jenny. Give us a break…”

“Where are the knights when you really need them?” Guinevere thought.

Adrenaline still was pumping through her veins with the knowledge she finally had managed to have them all three together again, and even more: accepting each other feelings. Instinctively she knew time would be short, so precious. This would be the moment to pile up memories that had to last a lifetime. She gave both her lovers an encourage pad on their bums.

“Move your lazy arses! Now I want each of you on all fours for a change!”

Mumbling and grumbling the two finest knights of the kingdom clambered up till each of them had positioned himself according to the wish of their queen and mistress.See how they kneel for me with their arses up high. This is British finest. I don’t have to hide my glances. I can just look and compare their bums! Approvingly overseeing the battleground Guinevere saw Arthur had the darkest and most menacing rear. She took him on first, preparing her onslaught with her long hair, letting it slide slowly over his hairy dark opening. When he groaned, she immediately dove with her nose between his cheeks, passionately licking and sucking his arse. Guinevere had him hard in seconds. In the meanwhile she kept her other companion happy with her kneading fingers playing with his nuts. When it was his turn the licking and sucking of his arse was at least as passionate. Because his chute had to wait so long, Guinevere gave it an extended attention as compensation.

When Guinevere was done, she could be proud of the result she accomplished. Arthur was laying down flat on the bed, still breathing heavily. His monstrous member stood straight up as a monolith, a pagan ritual totem pole where virgins used to be sacrificed to shed their innocent blood. Guinevere looked at the massive veins curling along the massive shaft. She wasn’t a virgin, she still was the Queen, and it was all hers. She squatted above his hips, facing him. She righted her shoulders, pushing her torso forward, proudly showing her shining minarets, her long blonde locks flowing downward over the curves of her spine, almost reaching the cleavage of her bottom cheeks. She moved over to take her rightful place at her throne, to guide the Royal Sceptre into her Golden Fleece. This was homecoming to the place where it belonged, where it ruled royally. The monster was moving inside her now, plunging into her moist corridor, worming itself into her farthest recesses. She moved up and down in trance, dancing the sensuous dance of rapture, bending over to shower his kisses on his raised face.

Suddenly she felt movement at her exposed backside. There he was, her Gallant Knight, her Champion, galloping to guard her unprotected rear gate. His mighty spear pierced through her brown bulls-eye, relentlessly moving forward till it found its assigned position. Guinevere shouted with joy at the arrival of the reinforcements, welcoming the intrusion with concentric grips of her gatekeeper. The tight containment made the spear move even deeper, seeking more space, more dark secrets in the abyss of her dark chute.

“Ooooh…!” Guinevere sobbed of emotion.

They were both moving inside of her, the thick one and the long one. She recognized their strokes, the slow pounding of the massive pillar and the rapid stabbing of that glorious lance, moving separately and yet together, in a strange rhythm. Their movements, only separated by a thin membrane subjected her to the joys of decadent friction. Guinevere let the exotic pleasure of this ultimate double penetration wash over her body. Sandwiched between two firm male bodies she only could helplessly move her limbs like a swimmer in fear of drowning. Her ballooning pearl of pleasure was treated to extreme friction by the natural forces of this triad.

Guinevere felt completely surrounded by a warm comforting blanket of flesh. She inhaled and felt her lungs filling with happiness. Finally she was making love to both the men she loved. Her skin glowed as if she was on fire. Yes, she was burning at the stake, her body double speared and skewered in a heavenly fire, her flesh oozing juices from all its openings. Her voice broke, moaning the eternal song of a woman consumed by the ecstatic fire of passion.

Few words were said when they parted. Ultimately the history of the Knights of the Round Table would end in tragedy. The three riders, each going another way, knew they would carry the Fire of the Queens Triad in their hearts till the day they died.

Please vote if you like the story.

I would like to thank my editor JayneC for her valuable contribution.