King Arthur in the Adventures of Cameltoe (Part 1) - Sex Stories

King Arthur in the Adventures of Cameltoe (Part 1)

Chapter1 Arthur’s Story Guinevere, my love, my soul mate... My absolute pain in the arse. They say behind every great man there is an even greater woman... Yup, whoever said that was obviously in his wife’s bad book. I mean, I’m never out of Guinevere’s bad book. She may as well be writing a fucking novel. It must have a contents page that reads like a parts manual for one of those fancy new trebuchets. You would think being King would mean that I had the power to do what you want, when I want. If I wanted to have a dump in peace, then I should be able to ferment in the smell. But no, as soon as the turd hits the moat water, I’m up and out, making sure not to use her hand towel. Guinevere wears the crown. She might lend it to me while walking around my kingdom. But in the castle... She’s the boss. Still I crave for Guinevere. I’m currently lying on the bed, naked like a turkey waiting to be basted. I had both beards trimmed and my best crown tilted to left, just as she likes it. The royal standard was flying full mast. His majesty was in residence and ready to rock his kingdom. Wearing a smile I watched the bed drapes part as the naked Guinevere knelt on to the mink bedspread. As she reached over me her tits swung like a heifer’s udders. Like a dog waiting to be patted, I arched my neck allowing my eyes to follow the woman I doted. “It’s good to know we still have it, my love?” “What on earth are you on about, Arty?” “I’m ready to pillage your pussy.” My heart thumped away ...

... like a March hare while Guinevere straddled my thighs. I reached down and held my stiff cock, brushing it against her tight curls. “Open the gates, or no mercy will be given.” Guinevere reached under her pillow and pulled out her night robe. “Come on, put Excalibur away.” “Why? It’s been so long since you polished the crown jewels.” “I’m trying to get ready for the jester... but I can’t find my special knickers.” That hurt. I know Guinevere hates that jester. He is about as funny as standing in dog muck. The knob can’t even juggle... I mean, what kind of bloody Jester can’t juggle? Still, the jester was the best on offer. Never mind invading Saxons or rampaging Vikings, I can deal with them. No, the worst thing about no longer being under Roman occupation is the lack of entertainment. They took their gladiators, chariot racing and orgies back to Rome... and left behind Jesters who can’t juggle. I suppose that’s why people are calling it the Dark Ages. So with my cock in hand, I began to wank myself while I watched my wife get ready for the hapless jester. “Just bend over for me and let me see your drains.” “Drains... what a horrible expression.” “Sorry, Merlin taught me that.” “You’re spending too much time with Merlin, he’s nothing but a perverted old man.” “He’s not that old, he’s just ravaged by alcohol.” I began to really squeeze my cock as Guinevere bent over for me. She sighed as she spread her legs and leant over the sideboard. My eyesight is not what it once was, so I ...