Vixen and Queen Alice - Sex Stories

Vixen and Queen Alice

... fine heir indeed. Now please do hurry up, we have a war counsel waiting.” With that, he spun on his heal, grabbing my arm on the way out. “Little Vixen,” he rumbled. “It is not my Lady’s voice we need to hear, do you understand?” I nodded, he patted my cheek, hands like great bear’s paws. “Do whatever you have to do. But keep it quiet. Embittered courtiers have keen ears and razor tongues and must see justice served. I do not want more pretty heads on spikes.” He left, and we all stared at each other. Then at Sir Michael’s withdrawn, and fear flagging member. Do what you have to do. I stepped forward, stooped and took the knight’s wet bulb in my mouth. It was Queen Alice’s turn to peer at the show as I squeezed his plums and sucked him back to rigidness. I made to withdraw but my Lady had other plans and kept me in place, while she too pressed her mouth to the lucky knight. A wise move. The man finally started to gasp and shudder as we nuzzled at him. I won’t lie there was something heavenly about working this thing with my lovely Lady, our tongues and lips colliding sliperilly at some hard part of him every now and then. But when we squeezed a drop of juice out of the tip and watched it roll down his head, we knew what would soon follow. We were done. “Now.” Alice muttered and the knight shook his head out of its dream and went back to his job, pushing her back and taking her soft little feet. He spread her legs like bird’s wings and rammed her, good and proper, quickly. As ...

... if his life depended on it. Me, I was left stuck like a one plum pudding, listening to their sloppy slurp and urging noises, naked and all dribbly down my thighs. So I did what a Lady-in-waiting does best. I waited. And waited. Curse the whores who bathed our knight. I reckoned they performed well beyond their duties because the big bugger would not cum! And worse. No, no no. It was my Lady huffing up to another climax. The knight looked over at me like “help!” She was getting rowdy again. I panicked. I forgot all propriety and figured to kill two birds here. I jumped onto the bed and plomped my soggy bits on m’Lady’s puffing gob. She made a startled – if muffled – squeak but then attacked them with her tongue and – thank god – cried her climax into me like a bawled secret. I had no idea I was so close, I tell you, and if it weren’t for my lack of voice, her cries would have been coming out of me. I shivered and shook and whimpered in my own crisis, on all fours, splayed to her face, bottom raised toward the groaning, humping knight. I love my Lady’s long and vigorous tongue, you see. You might say I’m addicted to it. God knows I don’t get no other kind of payment for all my hard work. As I hoped – from his reaction to our lickety-split earlier – the sight of this set the fella off, mercifully, and he stifled a good and hearty roar, pumping his seed into my Lady’s belly. I watched him over my shoulder, twitching at our queen as I trembled on her. We grinned, rolling our eyes ...