Adventures of Young Lord Arthur Ch. 01

King Arthur and the Holy Grail inhabit one of the most potent of mythical Realms, a Realm that serves as a backdrop for dreams; dreams that are dusted off from time to time. Close your eyes and breathe in the essence of age old battles and epic romance, where Knights fight for honor and maidens anxiously await their return. Step into a world where passions flow as free as the ale and seat yourself in the comforts of this story and journey back to Camelot. These are the days of old where the Knights fight in chivalrous battles, defending the honor of home and family. You will be taken back to that time of blood-stained swords and epic battles. Close your eyes for a moment … return to that place and come with me to Camelot …

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In these days Lord Arthur was just a mere young lad still questing through the land before the time of Excalibur. His journeys were many but not known at that as he had not made his mark in this unexplored territory. Born in Tintagel, a division of Cornwall, son himself of King Uther Pendragon, his own birth a story in itself as his father took to his bed the Duke of Tintagel’s own wife, Igraine. But that is another story in itself …

Upon this particular day, the young Lord Arthur found along the path a stature of the most magnificent creature he had even beheld within the whole of the land … that of a wench carved in the nude and she was splendid. He marveled at the reality, the beauty of this creature encased in stone; the smooth perfection of the marble, her limbs and body thrilling to behold, the exquisite features chiseled with loving care until the girl seemed to beg with her stance, the look on her face, to be freed of the stone.

Arthur could not tear his gaze from hers as he slowly dismounted his steed, tethering it to the nearest branch. Stone arms reached as if piteously out for him, eyes beckoning him closer, her hair trapped in a flowing motion over her bared shoulders and he could feel his lust rise within as he stepped closer, unable to resist the urge to slide his hands over the smooth marble that encased her exquisite beauty. He could not believe the reality of her curves, the position of her body. His eyes widened in wonder as his strong hand slid down supple curves and between the girl’s open thighs, a soft groan erupted as heated flesh instead of cold stone met his roaming fingers and of their own accord, brushed the tantalizing nether lips of the stone girl. He could feel beads of sweat begin to line his upper lip in utter fascination as one of his probing fingers slid in her moist open heat.

Watching the statue, brows furrowing as he thought he saw her facial features soften, he found himself leaning closer until his own lips covered hers. At the touch of both his lips and probing fingers, the statue seemed to come to life beneath him. He could feel the heat of her body, burning hotter than any wench he had held in his arms until this time and unbelievingly, he felt the girl’s breath wash against his lips. Arthur could not help but groan as her breasts became warm beneath his hand, stone nipples turning to vital buds of fire, a soft moan released from stone lips that melted beneath his to moist sweetness that yielded beneath his devouring kiss.

As the two sank down into the wet grass, Arthur’s mind reeled, not truly believing but his body was long lost in the heat of his passions. Strong hands parted soft alabaster thighs, soft sighs lifting from the girl beneath him as he moved between, his gaze drinking her in. He watched in amazement as she writhed beneath his touch, her own fingers trailing up to aching breasts to roll hardened nubs between, pinching until they are turgid peaks. Quickly his clothes are flung aside as he watches the stone nymph reach to him and he plunges hard and deep into the moist cavern of the girl yielding beneath him. He can feel her tremble as long legs tightly encase him closer, her body completely shuddering to life beneath his own. Long strokes quickened them both to a yearning need, strong arms supporting his weight above the beauty writhing beneath him as his cock plunged into her time and time again. Unable to control the burning passions that ignite his movements from within, he roars his need, releasing pent-up passions into her body just as the girl jerked spasmodically beneath him, crying out and gripping tightly to his shuddering flesh, almost rising from the grass as the waves of passion rocked over her slender form.

Again, the young Lord is amazed as he looks down at the statue beneath him, rising on trembling legs to drink in her naked splendor upon the grass. Stone flesh replaced with a breathing, moving apparition that has stolen his breath and quite possibly his heart. Without thinking, he offers a hand to the wench in the grass, smiling triumphantly as she slides her own into his. Lifting her upwards to bask in his embrace beneath the warmth of the sun, he claims her as his own to whisk her back to Camelot and serve his pleasures many nights to come.