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

King Arthur in the Adventures of Cameltoe (Part 1)

... touch my wife up... I just have to let him, even if it kills me. Still I’m the King, and Guinevere is my queen... maybe I can reason with him behind closed doors. Alone, I sat slumped at my desk. The scraping of my trusty dagger reverberated around the bare stone walls as I chiselled my frustration into the English oak. I dropped the dagger onto the table as I heard footsteps outside my door. Lance’s signature knock gave his name away. “Enter Lance.” As expected, Sir Gobshite popped his handsome face around the door. “You look worried, Arty.” He entered the room with his usual swagger. “Is everything alright?” “So, so.” “Are the borders of the realm intact?” “My sadness relates to matters on the home front.” “Look, the Jester was bad, but...” “It’s not the bloody Jester.”I rested my elbow on the solid oak, and held my head in my hand. “Give it to me straight Lance, are you fucking Guin?” “Lord, no.” “Blow job... licked her out?” “No.” I twirled the dagger on its stabbing point. “Please, you’ve at least given her a good fingering.” “Not even a friendly bum slap.” My anger swelled inside and I stabbed the dagger into oak table. “Stop fucking with me, Lance.” I stood from my chair and glared at the man who I wished I was. “You can’t keep your hands off Guin... and rather worryingly she can’t keep hers off you.” “I’m gay... remember the dungeon in Calais, France?” That was a memory that came home to bite. “Yeah... but that was just passing time.” “I have a pink shield and my ...

... horse’s mane is bleached and permed. Arty, I’m not interested in Guinevere, never have been. Never will be.” “Promise.” “I promise.” Lance opened his arms. “Now come here for a manly hug.” I glanced away, trying to act hard to get. But as Lance walked around my table, I couldn’t resist receiving a hug from my battle winner. “Sure. Why not.” I suddenly felt Lance’s hand on my arse cheek. “Lance!” “Still have a bubble bum, don’t you? Must be all that venison.” “Go on. Sling your hook.” “Not coming for a beer?” “I promised Guin, I’ll be back before midnight.” “Who wears the crown?” Lancelot lumped his muscular arms over my shoulder. “Come on, the lads managed to wake Merlin up... Last time I saw him he was shooting thunderbolts from his arsehole.” “I can probably squeeze a quick one in, then.” Chapter 2 Guinevere’s Story Arthur, the bane of my life. If it wasn’t for the castle, his riches, and the fact he is easier to walk over than a bearskin rug, I’d have run over the draw bridge long ago. He moans, complains, and whines like a cat stuck in the rain. His days are spent moping around the royal quarters looking like someone has just slaughtered his dog. Argh! Just thinking about him makes me want to jump into the moat. It’s not just Arthur, it’s England.... Why did I choose a man who lives in a land where it rains more than a drunk man pisses. Let me answer that, I didn’t. My Pops married me off as a gesture to Arthur’s old man who had saved his arse in some ancient battle... If ...