Dreams of Sidhe

King George had given orders that if any of the beautiful Sidhe women were found they should immediately be brought to him. Of course, he had no use for the men, but the women were rumored to be beautiful beyond reckoning. Once, far before in his youth when he was still Prince George, he'd seen one on the edge of the forest. He couldn't remember anything about her now except that she was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen, perfect in every way.

Married, not for love, but for political reasons to Queen Anne, he wantonly dreamed every night of a beautiful Elf girl to have in his bed. Whispers of his memories slid over his dreaming eyes; hair dark as a raven's wing... large slanted eyes that were soft brown like a fawn and heavy lashes to frame them... perfect high breasts enclosed in a kind of clothe that clung to her perfect body while flowing around it... soft fingers that danced rather than moved. It was at these times that he would hurry to his wife's room, eager to plunge into someone, anyone, in order to get the elusive features of the Sidhe woman out of his mind. But awake, he could never quite remember what she looked like, although she was perfectly clear in his dreams.

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His knights brought in a beautiful elf maiden, finally... and the King felt his dick swell in his pants. The most beautiful creature he'd ever seen... she was slightly different than the one before. This one had hair that was bright as the sun, her slanted eyes green as moss. Calmly she looked around at all of them from her cage. Jealousy shot through him as all the men of the court looked upon her beauty.

"Leave us!" he ordered, and had just two of his knights help him bring her to the bedchambers. She didn't resist at all, just watched him through the bright green eyes, without making a sound.

Carefully he laid her on the bed, hesitating to restrain her when she'd been so cooperative. Instead he just ordered the guards to stand outside the room. Stripping her bare, he was enchanted by the perfect smoothness of her body, softer than any skin he'd ever touched. He fell on her, his lips pressed to hers and pushing his tongue inside of her... she tasted like sweetness and sunlight.

The elf maiden didn't kiss him back, but instead just passively allowed everything to happen. It didn't matter to King George whether she responded or not, he was so enraptured by her presence, her smell of lilacs, the feel of her body, that it would not have mattered if she'd fought him. He just knew that he had to have her.

Stripping himself of his clothes, he began kissing her all over her body... she tasted sweet on his tongue... moving slightly beneath him as he kissed her nipples and then moving down to the wet slit between her legs. It smelled delicious... and tasted like honey. Ambrosia... the food of the Gods even. The King practically attacked her slit with his mouth, feeding off of her, tasting her... working himself into a sexual frenzy.

Triumph rang through him when she finally shuddered and let out a light sigh, fragrant juices spilling into his mouth. He knew he'd pleasured her.

Climbing upwards, he kissed her lips as his swollen member parted her other dewy lips. She cried out beneath him as he thrust into her hard. It was heaven... she was tight and wet, but so smooth, smoother than any mortal female. She seemed to suck him into her body, rippling around him and pressing lightly, as though butterfly wings were fluttering around his dick and then turning into a deep suction that pulled at his senses.

Her arms were around his neck, and King George was lost to unfathomable ecstacy in her arms, thrusting and heaving on top of her with abandon. It seemed as though he could use her as roughly as he wanted without hurting her, her pliant body just took it and she shivered beneath him. He spent himself in her quickly, filling her with his cum...

But to his surprise his passion did not flag. Just as hard as he had been when they first started... King George thrust and heaved, finding that his lust for her was not abated. She writhed beneath him, occasionally crying out in pleasure, her voice musical and sweet but without any words that he could understand.

For hours the guards stood outside of his room, listening to his throaty cries and a higher sound like bells chiming in the wind. They wondered at the stamina of their king, at his prowess, and as servants passed by the hall gossip spread.

King George exhausted himself, unable to thrust into her any more... he rolled off, only to find that his member was still swollen... so sore, so empty, but swollen. She smiled and climbed on top of him, her tanned legs straddling his hips as she lowered herself onto him. Crying out with frustration and passion, he found that he had only the strength to lay there as she began to ride him.

At dinner that night, Queen Anne sat alone, her husband still enclosed in the room with the Sidhe woman. She was sad... young and healthy, she was in love with her husband although she knew that he had married her only for political reasons. This was the first time that he had strayed from her bed - not that he spent much time in her bed - and she felt bereft of companionship. All around her everyone was whispering of her husband's prowess and the throaty moans and cries that were coming from the room... when he was with her, he did nothing more than spend himself and then leave her laying unfulfilled and full of baby juice. Sadly, she ate her dinner, alone at the high table.

King George was hoarse with begging the Sidhe woman to stop... it felt as if all the skin had been rubbed off his member, and although he was still cumming he had no juice left to give her. He was completely spent.

Finally, the poor man fainted from pure exhaustion. The Sidhe woman laughed, finished herself again and climbed off. She disappeared into the night, although the door never opened when the sounds stopped the guards came in to find their King alone on the bed with a raw looking member and the sheets damp with sweat and sexual juices. They took him to another room when they found he was unable to wake, Queen Anne came and sat beside her husband's bed, a silent sentry over the one she loved.

That night, King George saw the beautiful Sidhe woman in his dreams. To his despair, he felt his loins swelling again, his yearning for her still present. She said to him, "You will not find me, nor any other Sidhe again. I am young, I wondered what a mortal would be like... It was not unpleasing. But there is one who yearns for you as you yearn for me... you will not find completion for your lusts until you find her and love her."

King George cried out in his sleep as the Sidhe faded, and would not be quieted until Queen Anne climbed into bed beside him and held her husband, ensuring his calm sleep throughout the night.

The Sidhe Ariella smiled as she rode through the forest on her white steed... the King had not been uninteresting, but she had far better things to make of her time than mortal men. And soon the Queen would not be so lonely... her job was done.