The Mistress

Slowly I untangle my limbs from yours and sit up in the bed. Sleepily you look up at me.

"We have to return to the hall, before we are missed," I explain. I added, "The King will be displeased if there are empty chairs at the table, when the dinner is being served."

You lift your legs over the edge of the four poster bed and sit up.

"I do not actually have an invitation to sit at the royal table" you reply, "nobody will notice my absence, but I will help you to dress, I would not wish you to incur his disapproval."

I pull on my undergarments and gown and wait patiently while you lace up the back. I quickly run a hand through my dishevelled hair, to try to calm the dark locks.

"I want to see you again, after the dinner, meet me in the gardens, in the arbour."

I nodded and picked up my mask, you pull me into a tight embrace and kiss me hard. My legs started to tremble anew and with an apologetic smile, I hitch up my skirt slightly and run into the corridor.

The musicians are still playing, but the strains are subdued and people start to make their way into the dining hall, which has been arranged in the long hall of mirrors.

I politely make small conversation, whilst following the nobility into the dining room. Servants are busy with a never ending array of silver platters filled with all the exotic delicacies favoured by the King. As The King arrives, a hush descends on the crowd and everyone lowers their heads, while he took his seat.

Graciously he waves his heavily bejewelled hand to indicate approval for his subjects to take a seat.

As everyone sits, I look around hastily, half expecting to see you in this colourful throng. The masks are soon discarded, as people anticipate the beginning of a gourmet feast. Glasses are raised in salute to our sovereign.

It isn't long before the servants begin eagerly replenishing the swiftly emptying glasses, the conversations becoming more animated, faces becoming more flushed.

I am grateful that my neighbours are engrossed in discussing the merits of the entree and thus I avoid any more participation than an occasional smile and nod of the head. Again I look down the length of the table, even though I know it was a vain hope.

I feel someone touch my feet and I silently berated the oaf who is to my side. He does not appear unduly perturbed. I look back at the plate, placed before me and toy idly with the entree. Again I feel my foot being brushed. I frown in annoyance, moving my feet closer under my gown.

I try to glimpse under the table, but the heavy white starched tablecloths obscure everything from view.

As I feel hands encircling my ankles, I nearly give a cry of alarm. A muffled sound emanates from my lips and my neighbours look at me in concern. My hands flutter to my chest and I give a delicate cough. The moment passes and the feast is the focus of attention once more.

The hands under the table continue working their way up my legs, stroking the sensitive area behind my knees. I smile to myself, as recognition dawns. I am familiar with the owner of these strong hands, but how you had managed to install yourself under the table, at my feet was beyond my comprehension.

I pick up my wine glass and start taking small sips, to hide my confusion and prevent any need for conversation.

Your hands gently travel higher, to rest for a while on the inside of my thighs; further upwards your fingers slide until they reach my dark mound, I feel your fingers gently teasing my lips apart and then the soft texture of your tongue exploring me. I gasped in astonishment with the intensity of pleasure you aroused in me. It is difficult to remain silent and subdued, but I try.

You run your tongue along the edge of my lips, licking, nibbling and sucking, you find my bud and softly your lips enclose it, moving your tongue back and forth. I want to close my eyes , but I fear discovery.

As your tongue moves to penetrate deeper, I feel myself becoming increasingly aroused, the moisture seeping out of me. You force my legs further apart as you drink greedily. I feel I could die from the exquisite sensations you are bestowing on me.

You dart in and out of me and I started to squirm on my chair, moving my hips slightly forwards to meet your mouth as you feast on me. I groan inwardly when you push your finger inside me and massage back and forth, as your tongue continues to flick my bud. Faster and faster you tease me; I am climbing to my release, my body stiffening, the familiar waves starting to wash over me and with a loud scream I come, the juices gushing out of me and drenching your face.

As I collapse backwards into my chair I hear the voiced concerns of the aristocrats around me.

The Squire

And as I pull my tongue from deep inside you, you fumble with the wine glass as you gasp deeply. The King looks across, and notices your misdemeanour. He looks quizzically at you, and raises his hand. A hush ripples around the hall.

With a click of his fingers, two guards march towards the table, your heartbeat racing uncontrollably as you push me away and adjust your dress.

I try and get away, but am restrained by one the guards, the other insisting you stay seated. The guard takes your wrist firmly.

The King walks slowly over, his head lowered, pondering. He smiles as he approaches us, the rest of the guests looking on in anticipation. Swiftly he sweeps his hand across the table, the pewter plates and goblets crashing down onto the floor, some lady guests becoming covered in wine in the process. Astonished murmurs go around the hall, but are respectfully hushed.

"Continue," orders the King gesturing to you to lie on the table.

Awkwardly and nervously you mount the large oak table, never having felt more self conscious in your life, but as you begin to lie back, that feeling starts to be replaced with exquisite erotic anticipation. You look over at the guests and they are looking distinctly uneasy, yet some of them have a fire in their eyes, and you know you are going to be a feast for them this evening.

The King pulls up a chair, and reclines, and beckons for me to start the show.

As I approach you, I feel desperate for you; I didn't want it to be like this, and as I stand before you, I too feel very nervous, but as I look at your beauty lying there, I notice a look of desire in your eyes, and I am filled with an overwhelming urge to give you pleasure.

The guards strip my shirt and tunic off, and the King hands me a pair of large silver scissors. I place my legs between yours, and reach down and find the hem of your dress, whereupon I start to cut; the material falling apart in swathes.

For a moment I am pulled back and two maidens peel down my britches. I am now completely naked in front of you. I continue to cut your dress off. You look so vulnerable now with just the thin cloth petticoat keeping the hungry gaze of the audience away from your body.

In the meantime, the maidens have poured olive oil over my back and chest, the oil cascading down me in rivulets.

I feel very aware of my manhood, as it throbs and pulses and engorges for all to see. It feels wrong, but I catch the eye of one of the lady guests, and as she smiles, she licks her lips, which is enough to give me that final release and I am fully hard. My breathing is rapid, gulping for air, as I become fuelled by passion for you, and I put the scissors aside and rip the rest of your undergarments off with my bare hands.

I too feast on the sight, your nipples pert, dark mound and lips glistening. The guests are now struggling to feast on the sight of you so vulnerable.

I forcefully part your legs, and shamelessly rub my cock between your expectant lips.

The King throws over some fruit, and I wantonly squeeze a handful of strawberries over your body, the cold flesh cascading over you. I smother you with the slippery fruit, my hands feverishly exploring all of your body.

Your lips are now parted fully, and I plunge my cock deep inside you.

Your tightness wraps around me, moist and welcoming, and as I withdraw and submerge myself in you, an animal instinct in me takes over, and I thrust deep and hard, now savouring the gaze of our audience. And then as you grip me tight, I hear your familiar moan which joins me with you.

As I fuck you, we are lost in a pre-orgasmic haze, and some of the candles are extinguished by courtiers silently gliding around averting their gaze from the guests.

The King claps his hands again, and jugs of oil, bowls of fruit, feathers, silk scarves are brought by servants to the long table.

What happens next is almost surreal, but beside us, more of the guests start kissing passionately. Clothes are shed swiftly.

The woman who gazed at me earlier is now pouring oil over the shaft of a guard and is pumping him hard and fast, and beside you another elegant lady falls back onto the table, naked, head thrown back over the table edge and starts to receive a man in her mouth.

Both you and I are completely lost in this sea of overwhelming sensuality; the woman next to you is feasting on a delicious cock, glistening boldly with her saliva as it plunges hungrily deep into her mouth.

The King, by now is also being pleasured orally; standing naked, a blonde courtier receiving him deeply.

I struggle to keep myself from coming, and want us to now take in fully what is happening as we are wrapped in ourselves.

A good looking guard over the other side of the table, fully aroused, begins making his way towards you, I sense my feelings of jealousy, but know that I must release myself from this. He begins to suck on your left breast.

You reach across to one of the bowls of fruit, and randomly pick a handful of fruit: strawberries, grapes, kiwi and melon slices, and squeeze; the cool flesh bursting through your fingers. You reach down, juice dripping, and rub this fruit over his cock, which throbs and pulses to your touch.

Then with a deep and sultry gaze at me, you turn your head, and take him in your mouth, the fruit spilling onto your lips and down your cheeks. He tastes delicious anyway, but the fruit juices making you suck him with relish.

I have released my feelings of jealousy, but somehow they sneak back, and I want your mouth too.

I beckon for him and me to take you to some velvet cushions in a corner. We walk between bodies, buried so intimately, moans and breathy cries pervade the room, as do hard spurting shafts delivering their hot seed.

We place you down forcefully, your bottom sinking into the plush velvet. But then you beckon for us to both lie down, which we do obligingly. You sit astride us in turn, rubbing your moistness across our expectant shafts, and place a mask on us both.

A jug of oil is just within reach, so you generously pour some over his chest, then mine, and wantonly rub it over us, oozing down to our groins.

You move your head over to my lap, and begin to gently nibble and suck my cock. The feeling is heavenly as your hair cascades onto me, your hands sliding up my chest.

He positions himself between your legs, as you are now on your knees, and thrusts himself into you hard.

As he rides into you, you can feel his shapely engorged cock throbbing, filling every inch of you. Each thrust pushes me deeper into your mouth, and I know not how I stop myself cumming as your tongue flicks its way down my length in a silken ecstasy.

I am lost, and feel my imminent release, as my hot seed surges through my cock, and jets out cascading into the back of your throat.

His hands gripping your bum, really opening you up, as he is on his final moments, his balls banging frantically against your thighs, until with a long moan and thighs convulsing he pumps his cum deep inside you.

The King standing discretely in the shadows nods approvingly...