Kate Middleton Needs a Proper Fuckbynewamba©
Enough was enough. Kate had been growing increasingly tired of William's poor sexual performances. Sure, he's the future King of England, rich beyond belief, the ultimate catch and all that, but, when it came to the bedroom, he left much to be desired.
Especially in the way of penis size. He probably only measured maybe five inches when hard, and his cock was woefully thin. Plus, there was the matter of his endurance, or, better yet, lack thereof. Nearly every time they shagged, he prematurely ejaculated. The longest he ever lasted was perhaps two minutes. Usually he was in and out in around thirty seconds flat.
She figured maybe he could use his skinny little knob to give her a good comfortable bumshag. Bumsex was something she'd fancied enormously back in University, but, much to her chagrin, William never even attempted it with her.
One time, right before he was about to give her a usual boring missionary go, she'd flipped over and got on all fours, telling him to be naughty, thinking he'd get her implication, but, sadly, all he did was fumble around for a minute or two, trying to stick it in her pussy, almost slipping over a couple times in his futile attempts to put his semi-hard little cock in.
Exasperated, she simply flipped back over, laid on her back, grabbed his little prick and stuck it in, letting him have his standard less than a minute sleep-inducing fuck.
And maybe you'd think his cunilingus would make up for his penile failings, but he couldn't even do that right, either! The few times he tried, all he did was slurp away at her labia and outer folds of her fanny. Had he never heard of a clit? she wondered. Probably not. But it's not like he's got much work to do. He didn't have to be good in bed.
Although not necessarily blessed in the looks department, being a tad of a bucktooth horse-face, his being Duke of Cambridge meant that merely breathing on birds made them orgasm. But for Kate, well, it was like that at first; however, after a while his lack of sexual prowess became terribly tiresome. She needed a real man, someone to provide her with the sexual satiation she so desperately needed.
She started constantly daydreaming back to her past sexual exploits, which, thank goodness, William never caught wind of, particularly those times back in Uni. Oh how she missed her drunken sex binges back then, when she'd sometimes take on two or three fit blokes from the row team in one night, a couple times getting tag-teamed by them, a couple times tag-teaming a bloke or two with her sister, Pippa.
Things had gotten so bad that she'd taken to tip-toeing into the toilet late at night while William was asleep, locking the door, pulling out the dildo she hid in her feminine hygiene drawer, and sitting on the edge of their rhombus-shaped bathtub with her legs parted, fucking herself quietly, imagining back to those glorious chinwags of her Uni days.
Even though Kate had always enjoyed using dildos, especially monster-sized ones, she much preferred it when a bloke shagged her with one, rather than only shagging herself, and this late night routine of hers was getting old quick.
Ever passing day she became more and more fed up with the whole situation. It'd gotten far worse after they'd married, too. William hadn't even fucked her once since his pathetic thirty second go on that nauseating waterbed the night of their honeymoon.
She'd simply had enough of his skinny dick and lacklustre performances. True, she knew what she was getting into when she accepted his proposal. Wallet size definitely trumps penis size when it comes to matrimony, at least for her, but still, she craved more than her late night trips to the toilet to fuck herself with a piece of plastic. She wanted a real, hot, big dick attached to a strapping young lad. She wanted to get fucked the way she knew a girl of her calibre deserved. It was time to take drastic action.
So she decided to ring someone she knew could help, her sister, Pippa.
She knew Pippa would understand. Pippa loved dick and prided herself on being able to ride a different dick every night and take one in bum or (occasionally two) in the mouth during "that time of the month."
She and Pippa used to trade lads and tag-team them every so often. And yes, when they were drunk enough, they'd do stuff with each other, 69ing a few times, and there was that night a Greek shipping magnate's cheeky son got Pippa to fuck Kate with a strap on, but most of the times they'd just kiss and fondle, which always drove mad whichever bloke was lucky enough to be in between them.
However, Kate was a tad embarrassed to talk to Pippa about her problems with William. She knew how much Pippa fancied him and how she'd been trying to bag him right before Kate dug her claws in. Sure, the two sisters loved each other, but they still had a competitive spirit, especially around blokes they wanted more than a night of sex with.
Kate knew Pippa would feel vindicated knowing William was a skinny dick lousy lay. She knew Pippa would now feel as though she'd beaten Kate in some way or at least be happy to have averted the unfortunate fate of being both perennial tabloid fodder as well as the continual victim of premature ejaculations.
But whatever, desperate times call for desperate measures. So, one afternoon when William showed up to afternoon tea wearing his stupidest looking white jumper and those wretched plaid pants that always made her cringe, Kate decided to put her Blahnik-heeled foot down and decline his invitation to play croquet with him, the Queen, and Duke of Edinburgh, and instead ran upstairs, barricaded herself in one of her palace's secluded libraries, reached for her mobile and tapped on the "Pippa" speed dial icon.
"Hiya!" Pippa yelled out over loud music.
"Hiya, Pips. Where are you?" Kate asked, barely able to hear her over the blasting house music in the background.
"Hold on, darling..." the music began to fade a bit, "can you hear me better now? Just went down to the cabin... I'm in the Med, with Eduardo, the bloke from Majorca, on his yacht. We're having a right laugh. The whole pubcrawl gang from Uni is here. Wish you were too..."
"So do I..." Kate exclaimed with a noticeable sigh.
"What's wrong, babes?" Pippa asked, able to tell something was amiss.
"It's William. He's... Just..." She was unable to bring the words out of her mouth.
"I think I know what it is." Pippa responded, reluctantly. "It's his, hmmm, bedroom habits..." It was hard for Pippa to talk about, too, and with good reason.
"How'd you know?" Kate whisper-shouted.
"Listen, darling, before you two met, there... there was this party, and, he was there, and so was I, and..." Her voice trailed off. A moment of mutual silence ensued.
"You tart!" Kate again whisper-shouted, on the verge of tears.
"I'm sorry. I should have told you. Especially since he, was, you know, but he's the Prince of England, not some yokel from the town pub who we shared back in Uni. And you were so smitten with him. And I still fancied him, too, for ages afterwards! I thought maybe he was just bad because he was drunk. And they do have ever so many penis enlarging thingamajigs now..."
The line went dead quiet. Kate didn't respond, but Pippa could hear her sniffling in the background, probably crying. "I'm terribly sorry, Kate..."
"Perhaps I should have figured. There aren't many blokes in the Isles you haven't shagged..." Kate replied, sounding as if she'd quickly come to terms with it.
"I am still working on his little brother..." Pippa shot back.
"You monster!" Kate muffled her hand over the phone and shouted. They both laughed. "Listen, Pips, I don't know what to do. I need some male attention in the most desperate way, and I figured you'd be the right bird to ring about that."
"Why, because I've shagged so many blokes?"
"Yeah, because you have! You're the only bird I know who's shagged more than me!" They both laughed again, this time for a good twenty seconds or so.
"All that laughing right there, that's about the time it takes for William to shag, yeah?! Please help, Pips. Please... Whatever should I do?" Her tone quickly turned from comical to morose as she completed the sentence.
"You could go after Harry. I see him looking at your bum all the time. And I've heard from a couple of my mates who've shagged him that he does not carry his brother's unlucky traits..."
"Stop that! No! I'm not shagging my husband's little brother!! Furthermore, I want an older bloke. Someone who I know for sure can use his cock."
"Righty o then. Mmm, I've an idea, how about that guard, the black one, looks to be around late 20s, early 30s, very cute... I bet he's got the big cock you're after. I've seen him looking at you."
"Looking at me? Those geezers never look anywhere but straight ahead."
"Yeah, he was looking straight ahead, at your tight bum! You're the sexist bitch that palace has ever seen, babe! No red-blooded non-poof could resist having at least a quick peek at you. Bloody hell, I bet there're some poofs who'd have a go at you. Not that I think that bloke is a poof."
"Mmmm, well, I do know who you're talking about. And yes he is rather fetching... But how am I supposed to shag him, of all people? Those paparazzi vultures are everywhere. They'd go wild if they saw us even make eye contact."
"Of course you're not going to stroll up to him and invite him to shag you! Here's what we'll do. I already shagged one of the guards, no, actually two, no, I think three, but not him. I bet I could talk to one of them and arrange for you two to meet somewhere in the palace. I'm sure he'll be game. Are you game, sis?"
A few seconds of silence followed.
"Are you game or aren't you?" Pippa asked again, with a firmer tone.
"I'm game." Kate whispered, breathily.
"Goodie! You need to take care of yourself, darling. A totty like you needs a good dick. Give me a few days to get it sorted. If it isn't him I'll find someone."
"Thanks, Pips. Love you."
"Love you, too, babes. Talk soon."
Two days later, as Kate and William were sitting down to lunch, Kate's mobile vibrated. She dug it out of her Gucci handbag that was perched in the empty seat next to her and checked its screen, making sure to angle it away from William.
The screen read "Text from Pippa." She tapped the view button.
"West Wing study w/the Elk antler mantles. Tomorrow 3PM."
Excited, she clicked OK and stuffed the phone back in her bag as fast as she could.
"What was that about, love?" William enquired, his mouth full of salad. She detested it so when he spoke with his mouth full.
"Nothing. Just Pippa saying hiya."
"Hmm..." He retorted, going back to stabbing sloppily at his salad.
For the remainder of the day and the sleepless night that followed, Kate couldn't think of anything other than getting some good hard dick. She also wondered who it might be that'd show up. The more she thought about it, though, the less she cared. As long as he had a decent-sized dick and could fuck for more than a couple minutes she'd be happy. She didn't even use her dildo that night, either, wanting to save everything up for tomorrow afternoon.
Finally the day arrived. Time moved quickly as she spent a rather drizzly morning with a group of primary school kids visiting the palace. By afternoon, the rain ceased, slivers of sunlight broke through the overcast sky, and she had her usual boring lunch with William, which was made worse by him letting loose several loud and awfully smelly farts during the course of the meal, causing Kate to feel as though she would vomit. In addition to his farting, he was again wearing that dreadful white jumper and those plaid pants she reviled so.
Although that morning she'd had a few feelings of guilt and trepidation about cheating on him, seeing that white jumper and repulsive plaid pants and smelling his putrid farts reminded her of how excruciating and downright lousy a shag he was and let her know that she was doing right in taking care of herself and fucking someone else.
After lunch, William went out to play croquet with his nan and Kate went up to one of the guest rooms to prepare for her illicit encounter.
Upon entering the guest room, a master suite, Kate sat down on the red leather sofa facing the 64' plasma screen TV hanging from the wall. She grabbed the remote, clicked the telly on, and channel surfed to a PPV porn channel, which, this being the royal palace, came in for free through the massive satellite system.
The movie currently showing featured a tall bloke in a Guy Fawkes mask nailing a busty young blond who appeared to be of Brazilian origin. The Brazilian had on a feathery carnival mask and nothing else and the two were together in a black leather swiveling office chair, in what looked like a barrister's quarters. The busty blond was bouncing up and down on the bloke's gigantic, almost boomerang-shaped cock, reverse cowgirl style, her mammoth tits swinging around in clockwise motions.
Watching the two go at it, Kate laid back into the sofa, reached inside her skirt, under her knickers, and flicked about at her clit, which grew increasingly moist. She slipped her index and middle fingers together into her pussy and pushed in a bit, ever so slightly, vividly picturing the hot dick of a sexy stranger she'd soon be receiving.
She then moved her hand slightly downwards and poked her middle finger up into her tight little bumhole as she fingered her pussy with her index, which provided her with the delightful feeling of double penetration. Kate ran her other hand up and down the whole of her body, massaging her creamy, toned thighs, curvy hips, and every so often digging up under her blouse and bra, pinching playfully at her nipples.
Kate lost of track of time playing with herself, and before she knew it, 3PM swiftly arrived. Removing her hand from her nether region, she clicked off the telly, hurriedly made herself look presentable, and rushed off to the West Wing study for her appointment.
Before taking the long, winding stairway up to the adjacent wing, she ducked into a toilet, took off her red thong knickers, and applied some vaginal deodourant (which she always kept in her handbag).
As Kate approached her point of destination, she unbuttoned a couple of the top buttons of her blouse to show more cleavage, and, after taking a deep breath, she opened the study's large wooden door and stepped inside, but, to her surprise, found it empty, so she took a seat in a large antique chair from the 1700s that had the Royal Coat of Arms carved into its back and patiently waited with her legs crossed for about the next ten minutes.
Still, no stranger materialized. Disappointed, she was about to get up to leave when the door opened with a creaking sound, and a Buckingham Palace guard, dressed in full uniform, walked through the door.
It wasn't the black one but another, who was also a fit bloke of approximately the same age. She was actually happy it wasn't the black one because the two or three black blokes she'd shagged back in Uni had really, really big cocks, and she wasn't sure now, after only getting such a small dick for ages, that she'd be able to handle a huge one. At least with her dildo she could control how much she took. With some bloke all bets were off.
But the lad who showed up didn't seem too threatening. In fact, he had a boyish look and charm to him. He was only a few inches taller than her and had dark features, appearing more like he was from northern Italy than England.
"Hey there." He said, calmly. His accent was unmistakably London, quite heavy cockney.
"Hiya. Fancy meeting you here." She responded coyly, stepping up to her feet and instantly removing her blouse.
"Fancy meeting you." He replied, about to undo his tall, bushy hat.
"No, leave that on. Just take off your trousers..." She commanded. He obliged, unzipped his fly, unbuckled his belt, and dropped his trousers to the floor. He followed by kicking off his boots and ripping off his socks.
"I fancy being naughty right now..." Kate said and then unsnapped and let her red lacy bra fall to the floor. The cool air in the large, marble-floored room and her immense degree of sexual excitement caused her perky breasts' thick, circular, deep pinkish nipples to harden noticeably.
"Oh my..." The guard muttered as he ogled at her half naked body.
Kate then slipped off her Blahniks, crept towards him, put her arms around his shoulders and locked lips with him. They French-kissed for a minute or two and explored each other's bodies, her hands mostly feeling around on his cock and muscular chest, whilst his hands were mostly cupping her tits but slowly moved down the entirety of her silky-skinned hour glass figure, stopping at her tight, firm arse, and then pulling down and off her miniskirt. He was happy to discover she wasn't wearing knickers.
As soon as he got her skirt off, she took her right hand off his cock, which she'd been happily caressing, and used both hands to jerk down his maroon boxer briefs. Breaking their kiss, she looked down to inspect his erect package.
It wasn't monstrously huge but wasn't too small, either, maybe a good six or seven inches and with a nice girth to it. Satisfied, she nodded with approval and led him by the cock over to an enormous, eight foot long plush blue velvet antique sofa nearby.
Bending over, she put her hands against the back frame of the sofa, craned her neck around, and gave him a cheeky smile. He pulled out a rubber from his red blazer's pocket and rolled it over his stiff cock.
Then, with a single motion, he grabbed hold of each of her supple, firm, balloon shaped arsecheeks and slammed his hard cock up into her wet, hot and hairy pussy, a tad roughly, but she didn't mind. Just the mere sensation of her pussy being filled with a good-sized, hard, warm and fleshy dick again gave her an instantaneous orgasm.
"Ohhhhh, God, Ohhh, God... Shag me..." Kate cried out and squirmed as the guard started fucking her aggressively from behind.
"Ah, yes, Your Royal Highness. You like that don't, you? Your pussy's even tighter than sister's!" The guard yelled at her, holding one hand on her bum and using the other to tug on her hair, viciously whipping her brown locks down against her neck, as if she were a racehorse.
"You dirty brut, you dirty, nasty man..." Kate blurted out and moaned and soon had another orgasm. The guard could feel her juices flowing like mad from her pussy, soaking his cock and balls.
They were both so caught up in the act that neither of them heard the door when slowly it creaked open. Prince William stood in the doorway flabbergasted, in total shock at the sight of his newlywed wife bent over a couch, getting throttle-fucked by a palace guard who was still wearing his blazer and bushy hat.
At first, anger and rage coursed through his body. His first instincts were to run out, collect one of his hunting rifles, return and shoot them both, but then a second feeling overtook him. One of excitement. He'd never seen Kate getting shagged rotten like this. She looked more like a pornstar than a posh princess, and it was turning him on, making him totally randy.
He suddenly sprang an erection, reached into his pants, and started stroking at his cock. For some reason at this same moment Kate arched her head around and was mortified to see her husband standing there, masturbating to her and the guard fucking.
"Oh my God! William! I... Oh no.." She screamed out in a panic. The guard jerked his head around and looked just as startled as Kate, probably more so, and pulled out his cock, covered it with his hands, and took a few steps back.
"Your Majesty..." He exclaimed, teeth chattering, appearing to be angling to jump out one of the ovular windows nearby.