In the Kingdom of Smut Ch. 04

"How can you-" He said, but she already began to act. Her hand reached up to cup his face, the contact of skin on skin sending electric lightning up his spine as he let out a sudden gasp. His eyes fluttered as he felt sensations and emotions course through him like a thundering tidal wave rippling across his mind. She curled her finger around the curve of his masculine jaw and he felt it like she was running her tongue along the most sensitive spot of his cock. He shuddered, going hard in seconds and squirming at her touch. Her finger's draw ended at the base of his chin, tilting him up so she could inspect his face.

"You look a lot like him. Gregor." She said. The words left her like a breathless compliment. "He could never resist my touch, either."

"I..." Martin said, his voice anemic as he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think through the onslaught. Her free hand went to his crotch, to circle his iron-thickness through his pants and he nearly jumped in place. He felt a small spurt of precum lasp out from him like the initial lift of an ejaculation. She began to gently stroke him through his pants, her fingers against the heat of his crotch as she stared at him. He couldn't meet her gaze without losing focus. "Hnng! Oh Gods!"

"Martin." She said, the name reverberating in his ears like the whispered gasps of a thousand different lovers at once. "Kiss me."

He did. Unthinkingly, unhesitatingly, unapologetically. His head lowered as he moved into her arms, his own circling hers as his lips met. She was shorter than he, so the Prince - for once - could bend his head down to meet her with his mouth. They encircled one another, the connection of the kiss sending his mind into the stratosphere and his body into ecstatic pleasure shivers. As if snapping through reality, he saw himself with her. Mating, sexing, making love, making lust, and fucking in a raw, tumultuous thundercloud. The hallucination shifted and twisted like flashes of color in his brain.

He was with her, at the top of a mountain, sweat pouring off their naked and tired bodies. She rode him backwards, her arching spine and fat ass bouncing against him as she took his length within her, riding him like a gale, the winds whipping her hair as her pale rear-

He was back in reality, at the church. She'd been kissing him so hard that he hadn't realized that she'd stripped his shirt off and was gladly working at the pants. He only returned to the present because she pulled back from the lip connection. She giggled and pressed her lips against him again. He went elsewhere.

The Northern Lights ripped across the sky as he saw the phosphorescent storm rage above, the stars shining down upon the two of them. She was bent over him, licking his cock from bottom to top, stem to stern. Her tongue dragged itself across his balls, lifting up the shaft to reach the head, slurping loudly at the precum that built at-

He saw the church again. He didn't even realize his hands had been doing the same as she: pulling her top down so that her supple but perky breasts spilled out into the open air. She let out a gasp as he felt her up, his fingers pinching at her pink nipples as she leaned into his grasp. Krysella moaned as she kissed him again, her tongue darting into his mouth. He closed his eyes and went elsewhere again.

They were all alone in a rainstorm. She was against his back, handling his sack from behind with one hand as she reached around his waist to jack him, her hand moving up and down the fullness of his length. He could hear her breath on his neck, feel the wetness of her white-gold hair sticking to his neck and shoulders as she pressed her body as tightly to him as she could, her body warmth spreading to his back as the rain fell down like liquid joy-

Martin pulled away from her lips, the Church swimming back into view once again. He watched in rapt fascination as she peeled his trousers down, exposing his cock slowly, like the reveal of a magic trick. His penis popped out from the leather, the head catching on the lip of the pants as she pulled it down ever so slowly. When it finally pulled free it bobbed in the most pleasing, sexual fashion, reaching its near-vertical point from the sheer amount of blood pumping into his body. She stood, stepping between his cock with it wedged between her thighs as she frenched him again, her lips locking and a new vision swimming up into his mind.

Beneath the clinging waves of the sea, they screwed with impunity. In free-form floating ecstasy they mated like floating creatures of the sky, her leg trailing along behind her as he grasped her hips and pulled her slowly onto his lap. She shifted her arms, her body floating backwards as the impact was dulled but the wet, slippery sensation entered both of them as he pressed her tight together. The bubbles from their heavy breath floated up towards the roof of water above, like little droplets of reverse rainfall signalling their passionate-

Martin returned to the present, to their place in the middle of the church. his mouth open and gulping at air as he groaned. She was at his waist, on her knees, her mouth poised against his manhood as she looked up at him, her deep purple eyes seeming to glow violet as she stared straight at his face. She jerked him, bulging and pulling his skin down to expose his head as he let loose a stream of precum from the tip. She licked it up like lightning. She put her mouth upon his head, working her upper lip between the film of flesh of his foreskin, pressing it between her mouth as she tried to suck the precum from his slit. "W-what are you doing?" He asked, the words seeming foolish in his mouth. He knew, he was just so overwhelmed he couldn't process it all.

She smiled at him, her teeth shining as she seemed to have a more intense look in her eye than before "This is a place of worship." She said, "... let me worship." With a sigh of contentment, she took him in her mouth, her head bobbing forward as all semblance of a gag reflex disappeared and she deep throated him like he was nothing. Martin cried out and placed a hand upon her head, running his fingers through her silver-gold hair. She moaned at his touch.

The images shifted back and forth between all of them, his pleasure building as he felt an orgasm grow across a dozen different thoughts and sensations, fantasies and daydreams of the groin while she slathered and moaned beneath his manhood. Her lips connected with his base, and he felt Krysella's button nose bump against his stomach. It was his signal to cum; that and the way her eyes began to glow as they stared at him.

She winked at him, her cheek compressing on one side as her eye wrinkled shut. It sent the young prince over the edge. He felt his balls clench as he blasted himself down into her throat. His body heaved as he involuntarily jammed himself deep within her, his hips pumping forward and pressing her tightly to his crotch as this burning, searing sensation in his mind spread like a warm liquid to his chest, his stomach, his nethers, and to his beating heart. Martin let out a groan as he came, his cock thickening visibly in her mouth as he came as hard as if he'd been sexually frustrating himself for days. Globs of white, human creation ingratiated itself to Krysella's throat as she took it in, her eyes like beams of focus upon his face, staring with a knowing look as they began to look hungrily at him.

Martin couldn't take it. He ran his hands through her hair, his fingers against her scalp as those endless, amethystine irises gazed at him, unblinking. He felt a deepness well within him, an unquenchable want for the feminine form that went beyond the mere sexual pleasure she was granting him with her body. He felt like he was sinking into those eyes, learning things about this person on a deeper level than one could hope to accomplish from a simple conversation, or even sex. As his pumping prick pitted the last of itself in her mouth she withdrew, drawing back with the slow, practiced ease of one so comfortable with the human form as to know its very intricacies with an orgasm. As her mouth popped free from his head he came a last, long stringer that leapt across her face, painted her nose and touched the top of her forehead, like a scar between her eyes.

Krysella grinned, her eyes a brighter color than before. She looked manic, near crazed from the sensation. Her hand encircled his cock as she expertly coaxed the last bits upon her lips, coating her teeth with his cum as she licked her lips. Martin, gasping, felt like he'd been taken, despite the superior stance he held above her. "Was..." He said, words escaping him as the emotions of the dozens of sexual experiences coalesced into one, heavenly feeling in his mind. He was still rock hard. "Was that real?"

"It was." Krysella's voice was throaty, a sultry statement of salacious love. She stood up, smacking her lips as her hair trailed down her head like the strands of an angel. The streak of sex upon her face was still there, sticking to her as she hugged Martin tight, pressing her bust to his own chest. "I have done all those things and more, Martin. And now I shared them with you - at least a taste." She grabbed him two-handed and began to roughly jack his johnson. "...Let's have more than a taste, yes?" A hand removed itself from him and wiped at the fluid on her face, coating her fingers as she held it up over her lips and slurped it off of her tongue. She was as shameless as she was unbelievably beautiful doing it. She made a naughty sex act look like a tender expression of love.

"My Goddess..." Martin said reverently, worshipfully. His hands touched her hips like an innocent soul searching for salvation. She swayed with him, her arms around him as she breathed into his chest, resting her head against his chin as she inhaled the smell of him. His fingers trailed down, grasping at her rear, feeling with probing touch the true divinity of her person. He slid a finger into her vagina, teased her ass, groped her bottom. He clung to her, feeling a rush of arousal that bordered on madness as he struggled to resist the desperate wish to mate with her. To love her. To give her everything she asked of him, and take everything in return.

"Krysella." She murmured, looking up at him with eyes that were bright purple now. "Call me Krysella. We're all just names, Martin." She frenched him, hard. Her hands reached up to enwrap his neck and palm the back of his blonde head as she shared the closeness of her face, of her personality melding to his. She licked his teeth, tounged the inside of his lips, traded with his own pliant muscle as they entwined and probed one another's limits. His were far greater than hers. She was an electric soul, charging him like a blast of life to his chest. Martin's heart thudded like a drum beat, his eyes a microscopic distance from her own. Both were open, gazing at one another. "All just names." She whispered, kissing his nose and licking against his face. "Just... names..."

Martin fell to his knees, his hands grasping the curve of her thighs like he was afraid of falling overboard. His breath shuddered as he stared at her bare pussy, his nose pricking at the smell of her. He saw the flower of her sex, the fleshy bulge of her labia as she stepped against him, giving him a still grander view of her godhood. There was a small tuft of white above her mound, sitting like a pointed arrow aiming at her innards. She was soaked, a glistening gush of moisture that trickled down her body like trails of puddling rapture encased within her girlish hole. Martin's mouth met her lower lips hesitantly, as if afraid she would repeat the process he had just endured with her makeout session. He kissed her there gently, his tongue lapping out along the length of her as he tasted the wetness of a Goddess.

She let out a soft moan, her fingers trailing through his hair as his had done for hers. Remembering the feeling of Krysella at his crotch, he looked up at her, their eyes meeting as she gave him an approving nod. Her eyes were lidded, her voice strained as she let him lick her nectar from the source. "Ah..." She said, her fingers tightening against him as she pulled him tight against her. "Lick my pussy, Martin! Bury your tongue in me." She felt his tongue slide into her inner walls and let out a cry. "Worship me!"

He kissed her slit as passionately as she'd sucked his dick, his mouth opening to try to engulf her entirety. His tongue tried to tease her tasty, tangy juices free from her innards as he spun it around inside of her, feeling the strange, almost otherworldly heat of her love canal. He removed himself only with reluctance from that warm, sticky sensation to kiss along her mound, lick across the inside of her crotch, near the thighs. Krysella shivered in his hands. He licked the skin away from her clitoris, tapping the buzzer of her sex and suckling it like a bean in his mouth. His teeth lightly skimmed across the surface of it, creating friction while avoiding a painful bite. Krysella's voice rose as she let out a screeching cry of joy, her head lifting to the sky, her small, pale chin pointing like a star to the sky as she stared sightlessly into the air, her whole body going taut from his touch. Her inner thighs shook as she squirted a blast of love that coated Martin's face, the warmth of her insides splashing onto him as he opened his mouth and tasted purified divinity. His head began to swim; from the smell, from the taste, from the way her eyes seemed to shift color, nearly searing him with their intensity as they stared at one another from across the length of her body. He groaned with her, his heart hammering against his chest as he felt his own masculinity go rock-hard beneath her. She was a drug, an intoxicating beverage whose taste and composition left him more drunk than all the alcohol in the Castle's larder.

Martin moved to continue his ministrations, but the Goddess had other ideas. Taking him by the face, she pulled him out from under her. Standing him up, she threw herself against his body, grinding her hips to his as she let out a breathless whisper: wordless, and with only one intended message: mate with me. She spun around, leaning her booty against his crotch as she bounced back against him, letting his shaft drag across the lower half of her navel as she shifted up and down, teasing him with slow, perfect movements. She had no inhibitions, no modesty or pretentions about the act they were about to commit. Any action was ideal, eternal, joyous; so long as they shared it, so long as they gave to one another. Her hair laid across her back, her hands reaching forward to grasp her podium from whence she gave her spirited sermons. How had she known? To place her hands on that holy place and give herself to him? He hadn't asked, yet she moved as though she knew exactly where he'd wanted her to go.

"Krysella." Martin said, taking her by the hips, pulling her with him so she faced the other side of the church, her back bending into a near-line as she lowered herself, her ass in the air as she gazed back at him, her eyes burning with something beyond lust. She let out another feminine moan, deep-throated and desperate to please. He aligned himself with her folds, dragging the head of his still-leaking penis up and down her lips, catching on the vaginal lip of her sexual flower. He pressed forward, his hips pressing against her own as he sank into her love. The near-giddy feeling at the bottom of his spine was almost ticklish, a stupid grin growing on his face as he felt himself enter her womanhood.

"Make me yours, Martin." She whispered, her voice high-pitched as she pleaded. He obliged her, moving forwards and back, in through the quivering divide of her quim as he picked up speed. In moments they were bareback fucking so hard her hips were smooshed up against his, her ass compressing to his stomach as he watched her paler skin contrast with the warmer tan of his own body. Were it with anyone else he'd have already been letting loose his seed for a second explosion. But something about the way she moved, the way she clenched against him, the soft wail of her voice as she responded to his grasping hands and thrusting cock... she was perfect. And Martin did not use the term lightly. She knew just how to keep him enraptured, without firing his pistons to the extent of true ejaculation.

She lifted her back, balancing herself as her fingers gripped desperately against the wood of the podium, the base of it shifting back and forth dangerously as it thudded repeatedly against the floor. Her weight was against it, her heaving breasts lifting and lowering and wobbling as he slammed his weight against her at a grueling, emotional pace. She was wildfire, burning unchecked through the dry brush of his passion. "Martin..." She whimpered, "Martin!" She cried out, her back arching as she lifted herself up to a more balanced spot. "Take me, you stud, you man!" Her hands left the wobbling podium, reaching behind her in time for him to grab her by the wrists, holding her arms out to either side as he gained a new and more powerful angle to hump her hips against him. Her arms were extended behind her, held fast by his strength as they used their mutual connection to further unite their bodies.

All at once the tempo changed, the mutual lust grew, and they were ramming themselves together like they'd always known each other. Krysella's white hair whipped around, falling like raindrops or flower petals. Martin felt something within him snap, and he began to thrust wildly, his hips becoming rapid bursts of masculine force as he vigorously vacillated into her vagina. His hips were now mere inch-differences in muscle movement, but the force of it was so intense that her body jerked as she let out a cry of pure, unbridled joy. She came when he did, so ideally timed that neither had to even inform the other. They already knew that they were. She didn't try to pull away from him as he finished, and he couldn't bring himself to stop. Their bodies connected together tightly, her neck lifting up to call to the sky, Martin following suit as he shouted, heedless of any and all that might hear.

He pumped within her, his cock thickening and blasting still more of the loving jism into her spasming cunt, her own walls rippling like a wave at high tide, emerging with white caps into her body as the cum erupted like a fountain into her. Her juices came like a splash against his stomach, his groin, his legs. She groaned and shivered, that same shiver moving up his own spine when it swept from her to him. He could feel her very sensations, and she his. He pulled out of her, his cock still rock hard, defying all logic. She turned around, cum leaking down her leg as she roughly shoved him back onto the stone dais. He tripped back, landing on his back with his rod pointing up like a tower. Her eyes were aflame: nearly pink and blazing as she stared at him, her legs spread apart and her chest thrust forward: a confident, assertive female.

"I want you." He said to Krysella. "I want to have you in every way- Gods, why am I-" He shook his head, unable to break this inhuman but sacred lust within him. She stepped forward, leaning down with a bent back as sweat built on her body from the mating. Brushing her long locks to the side with her hand, she bent down, angling her mouth atop his mushroom head. She kissed the tip, licking and lathering his precum-drenched and pussy-juiced prick as she tongued his slit. He knew she tasted him, that she was learning something about him in a way that only those he truly trusted had ever done. He thought of the King in the forest; he knew why his Grandfather had fallen for her.