As you both stroll down the towering hallways, an unusually mellowing nature descends over you. Looking to your mother, draped in your king's amethyst-colored robe, you decide to give her the proper rest she's so far deserved. After all, you have plenty of requiescence and free time to bring your mother fully around. There's no worries as to that.
You led her back to her own room, allowing your hand to rest on her silk-covered bottom. Perhaps, later, you could consummate a more "puckered" ceremony of relationship with your spankin' new Queen.
The possibilities have been raging in your mind like a whirlwind of fantastically perverted thunder, slamming and blasting into the ground of your psyche, glossed with sexual deviation, so as to crack the very base of any commonality that still resided within you. What rapture you will soon find in the soft, warm hearth of pure woman that was your mother's bosom.
You shivered with anticipation.
As you approach the Queen's chambers, the stiff, hulking guards positioned at her door stand to rapt attention at your nearing. They, of course, have heard all about your "domestic acquisition". Though, as all the rest of your flooding, far-outstretched kingdom, they made not the slightest inkling of any external reaction.
They didn't even let their eyes feel up the magnificent view of your half-naked queen.
You stop at the entrance of the bedroom.
"Here you are, my Queen," you say, gesturing to the door.
She looks up to your eyes. Her eyes were still wet with shame and induced pleasure.
"I am to retire alone?" she asks. Her hair has matted to her skin, giving her the most sultry of looks.
"Yes you are. I do believe all this... excitement has drained your zaftig form. Wouldn't want you to become ill, now would we?" you tell her, an elusive smile curdling your lips.
She nods, more out of emotional exhaust than understanding.
"Very well, my..." There she stopped, with an expression of guilt upon her pink cheeks.
You slide your arms under the robe that hangs atop her womanly shoulders, clasping your lean muscles around her tender waist.
"I am your king, beautiful," you say, bending forth to embrace your mother's ravishing scarlet lips.
She tenses at the initial abruptness, but soon forces herself to relax. You let one of your hands entangle itself in her gushing mane of long, spilling hair, the other hand resting against the pronounced dimples of her frosted ass, cold from the draft that slipped up under the white truffles of your robe. Her arms were squashed against her heavenly chest, partly because you'd pinned them there, and partly for she sought protection from you groping and pawing her poor, tired breasts.
With a gentle "pop", you pull back and gaze into her eyes, as boundless as the sky above.
"Now attend to your beauty sleep, my sweet wife. A queen deserves her rest."
She looks at you with fluster desperately wanting to bloom into love. The mother's adoration is still there, swept to the side and confused, but still there - still seeing you with all her hopeful dreams, swirling around your power. But she wanted to love you as she had once done your father... perhaps even more.
One of the steel-clad guards opens the door as you usher her inside, letting your fingers slide against her covered back.
"Until the morning, my Queen," you promise.
She turns to look at you a final time, her eyes longing and neck exposed.
"Goodnight, mother."
With that, the guard closed the door, you holding your queen's gaze until the bulking wooden slab slid shut. What a lucky son of a bitch you were. Actually - correct that: Lucky son of a passionate, intelligent, voluptuous, captivating beyond belief, drop-dead hellcat!
You turned, neither guard daring to catch you eye, and strolled back up the winding hallway, the smile on your face from before the kiss still lingering devilishly upon you.
Oh, the plans you had... |