The Dark Chronicles Ch. 07

"No man has been there, no man." Miryamme's voice was a whisper. "But Elayne has, my naughty Elayne has. She knows. My saucy maid, she's kissed my bum. She's a good girl, she's kissed me and licked me, and stuck her finger in."

She looked back at Lancilet with her sweet smile.

"Lancilet, will you put your lovely thing into my bum? I might scream if I like it, just like you do with the groom, with his giant rod all hidden inside."

Lancilet's cock bounced high at Miryamme's words, whether from the promise of the groom or the promise of her ass, it didn't matter. The high scent of her lust was upon him, and the soft slick of her fingers between her lips all nice.

Lancilet looked around, and there on a shelf was a pot full of oil, a candle wick floating in it, guttering and flickering in the slow air. He wet his fingers to put out the wick, and swirled the oil to spread the heat. Dipping his fingers into the pot, Lancilet slicked his cock with the oil. The moonlight glistened and warm drops dripped onto Miryamme's thighs.

Feeling the liquid drops on her skin, Miryamme thought it like the warm spill of Artur's juice on her, but for once Morgayne was far, far away; and the queen was comforted. "It's like he always loves me, loves me, my skin all lovely and soft." She gripped a pillow in her two hands, and braced herself like Lancilet did in the stables, making herself ready for his cock.

Lancilet poured a little oil onto the hot gasp of her ass-hole and circled it around, gently penetrating her bottom, slowly pulling back. Miryamme sighed, pushing up onto his fingers; spreading herself wider, ready for the slow entry of his length.

"Mmmm," she crooned, and Lancilet placed the tip of his cock against her hot centre, waiting as the muscle slowly opened up to his tease. "Ohh, it hurts, it hurts... keep it in, keep it In... ohh, it doesn't hurt anymore." Miryamme let her body relax, accepting the hot fill inside her, letting Lancilet slide in to her depths. He pulled back, and placed another finger of oil where his shaft entered her body, pushing forward again, easing in.

"Ahh ahh," she gasped, as a sudden stab of pain shocked her, and Miryamme locked against him, holding the pain inside herself for a moment before she relaxed. "Ooo yes, that's right, that's..."

Lancilet silenced her with a long, aching thrust, as suddenly all resistance was gone; and he filled her as she'd never been filled before. A long, keening moan came from deep in Miryamme's throat, as all the pain she'd kept bottled up, all the loss she'd never found, found release in this fuck, this deep cleft into the depths of her. She never knew she was so deep. Miryamme opened herself up and let Lancilet take her. So deep.

Miryamme pushed back against the slim cock shafting into her centre, and Lancilet found a steady rhythm, answering every aching moan from the queen with a quick grunt of his own, swathing long slides into her depths. He bent over her back, resting his weight on one hand on the bed, cupping a breast with the other, embracing Miryamme as he filled her tight hole.

An urgency for each other began, the slide of his cock into her passage was faster now, the oil heating from the friction and the heat of their flesh. His cock pistoned in, then pulled out. Miryamme's fingers flickered over her tight little bud as Lancilet fucked her. With a cry, like some night bird far off, her orgasm peaked, and she fell forward, dragging Lancilet down upon her back, his prick deep inside her, gripped by her tightness, her grasp.

With her body all still, but her tight place gripping him and pulling him in, Lancilet thrust into Miryamme. His rhythm was his own now, a deep, hot pressure from the base of his spine coiling into the tightening sac of his balls, urging his cock deeper, deeper, deeper into her ass. With a loud, keening cry of his own, like an answering bird to her calling, Lancilet made one final thrust and his juice exploded inside her.

Miryamme turned her face to his, wide wonder in her eyes. She smiled her little smile, and for once in her fractured life, Miryamme was peaceful and filled.

"Can I have a little bit more, sweet Lancilet, on another day, another lovely day?"

* * * *

Hey nonny nonny, our little plan worked.

"My Lady sleeps quiet, Maer Maerlyn." Elayne sat with Emmy and me, a magick and his maids, reporting back on the passings in the night, all in the Lady's chamber. "She and the prince Lancilet, they do rut, sire; and all of their sounds make my own finger busy, it's a happy sound."

Elayne's eyes were near as wide as the queen's when she said it, and the flush on her neck so sweet. I glanced across at Em, and she all nicely red too. My old prick hardened at the thought of it all. Em saw the shuffle, and opened her mouth just a little. She didn't say a word, didn't need to, not Emmy.

"She's stopped walking, sire, all in her sleep," Elayne went on. "The prince curls behind her, and the queen all happy and warm. She's quiet, sire. Even her doll sits quiet, the queen rarely picks it up."

So the dilly dolly doesn't even look? 'Twas a better thing even than I thought.

When Artur the king returned with foreign blood in his eyes and on his skin, I told him his queen rested pretty, and his cousin worth his keep.

"The boy make happy my queen, Maer? When I cannot?"

Artur sat quietly, pondering this little thing, all a wondering, no doubt. He looked up at me, his eyes mournful and sad, the heavy weight of his campaign a weighing him down. After a moment, he shook his head, and his eyes narrowed.

"For the best, then, Maer. Sounds 'tis best for Miryamme, my queen." He got to his feet. "No matter, what's done needs to be done." Artur turned away from me, to his kinging business.

"Knot another string to your cloak, Maer Maerlyn, and that Emmelyne, tell her to knot her underskirts too."

He laughed, as he saw my puzzled look. "What, you thought I never knew what you two do? Ah Maerlyn, I do my teacher proud!"

Who taught this man? This king knows my secrets better than any woman does.

"Come, Maerlyn, my good friend, come eat with me. We need a quiet time."

Artur looked at me with a distant look in his eyes.

"I feel a storm coming, Maer, I feel a storm. I know it in my bones."

And he looked to the south as he said it, and there was a greyness in his eyes, as he gazed long away to the south.

I was there.

When Lancilet the king's cousin became an invisible prince, and Artur the king turned a blind eye, I was there.

© Electricblue66 2018