The Tale of Queen Arta Ch. 02 - Sex Stories

The Tale of Queen Arta Ch. 02

... simultaneously drifted amongst stars, innumerable and ineffable as they were.

Her vision pulsed with the shadows of stars, the spaces around them once null and void now filled with the cosmic minutia whose colors she saw hints of before. Her mind's eye filled with swirls of pale green, pulses of astral magenta, clouds of indigo-violet, and streaks of vibrant yellow. Between them lurked.. not stars... but... memories! Here and there amongst random instances of her life lay those relatively few moments with her precious Violet Knight. Their first time after the unfortunate hunt, their time after she took Baurus's so-called kingship, and the innumerable secret visits in between, as well as their last, short as it had been.

That last visit. It had been a session of court, the Violet Knight accompanying some minor, outlying noble as a simple man-at-arms, preposterous as that was. The less-than-count had blathered on for far too long about bandit raids that had long since passed. Arta's gaze had lingered not on the whinging noble but upon her armor-clad lover, her eyes boring deep beneath plate and padding, devouring the skin and sinew she knew lay beneath. She had imagined the throbbing sword he wielded and all the ways it could--and would--fill her if given the chance. Her knight had eventually interrupted the noble, pledging to rid the man's lands of any and all crime for the next few months. The distracted Arta had accepted her Lancelot's promise and adjourned the ...

... session of court shortly after.

The two had met in an abandoned hallway not far away, his dark and wavy hair, his grey-blue eyes, his heavy step, his strong arms. They had all closed in on her in their own way, her lips and his meeting in accustomed secrecy. She had pulled him into a side room, knowing their time was short, her gown soon lifted above her waist as undignified as that of any serving girl so keenly desiring of a man's steely flesh. No undergarments obscured her skin, her pale skin unhidden, her wetness and arousal glimmering in the side-room's ensconced light. She had not seen his face then, simply imagining the wolfish grin he surely displayed as he undid the cinch about his waist.

She could hear the footfalls behind her as he closed those few feet. His swollen mushroom-tip glanced against her cheek, a pulse of excitement coursing through her. She heard him spit softly into his hand, followed by a momentary pause, before his bulky sword met the delicate flesh betwixt her legs. The angle was not ideal but his glans soon found the achingly-empty wetness at her core. A half-stroke forwards and she felt him begin to stretch her in that familiar, exquisite, essential way. His hands, rough but soft-enough moved, one grasping her waist, the other sweeping down and around and finding the firm button looming over her wetness.

Their sex that day had somehow been more secretive, more forbidden, more... naughty... than ever before. They both knew they had no time and so ...