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The Queen and the Soother Part 2

"The queen needed a husband. Could she domesticate the worldly playboy?"

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Author's Notes

"A fairy tale in four parts."

The search for a husband continued. Widely-traveled, Geoffrey promised more exotic pleasures. Would he just be a plaything for the queen’s amusement, or could he become a true partner?

The queen hid the bon vivant in the head cook’s quarters. The chef didn’t mind relinquishing his room for a few days in exchange for some new recipes. People from Sybarisia were known for their love of food and Geoffrey had a well-deserved reputation in that regard.

He had prepared quite a lunch for Jeena. She loved tasting all the delicacies and drinking the wines he brought to sample. The conversation wandered through the different styles of music and other entertainments, clothing, and food, as well as events and sights from the many places he had traveled. The queen hung on his every word.

The main meal completed, they adjourned to the couch, and proximity turned to caresses and kisses as they talked. Before serving dessert, he brought out a small box of powder and added it to the tea.

“This will make our love-making even more intense,” he promised. She didn’t mind that he made the assumption. Her body already tingled from the wine and the conversation.

The dessert remained half-eaten as the special tea worked its magic. Jeena felt an intense longing grow between her legs and almost ripped the last buttons from the prince’s shirt. Wanting no more delay, she stood up and disposed of her dress and undergarments as if they were on fire.

Geoffrey’s eyes grew big at the sight of her body, but not in an entirely approving way. In fact, the prince almost chose not to say anything, the beauty he beheld far outweighing the flaw. “My dear queen,” his voice showed some hesitance, “Are you not aware of the current fashion in foreign capitals?”

“I have not been able to travel much,” Jeena confessed but was surprised by the timing of his remark. “Why do you talk of fashion when I am wearing nothing at all?”

The prince laughed as gently as possible. “I refer to the thick wool coat you have between your legs.”

Jeena’s puzzled shock and embarrassment were disarmed by Geoffrey’s smiling face as well as the amount of wine they had consumed. This was fashion she had never heard of.

“Many women remove it completely,” he dared to imagine her that way.

“I do not wish to look like a girl!” she retorted.

“Indeed, yet those who wish to maintain a womanly aspect still tend their gardens, trimming and shaping to show their care and attention to the area. Either way, they find visitors want to spend more time there.”

“What would you advise?” she asked, the growing unrest between her legs demanding a quick resolution.

Geoffrey pretended to be deep in thought, but grinned broadly as he presented his proposal, “I could do it for you! I would reduce the main forest and leave a womanly woods, say in the shape of a heart. Below and along the sides, you would be smooth and beguiling. Once your ladies see it, they will be able to maintain it for you. And I dare say the style will catch on here as it has elsewhere.”

Before she could agree or disagree, the prince disappeared and returned with his shaving implements. He obtained a basin of hot water from the nearby kitchen. Spreading a towel on the floor for her to lie on, he lathered her dark triangle first.

Jeena was tense with a sharp blade near her most sensitive area, but Geoffrey showed some skill. “I used to shave my father,” he explained, then hurriedly added, “Only on his face, of course!”

It must be a similar process because he quickly reduced the dimensions of her patch. Carefully, he rounded the upper corners then carved an indentation in the middle. The queen had to admit, it was heart-shaped.

Gently raising and spreading her legs for the next part, he soaped the hairy sides and lower territories, the latter which he wisely had not mentioned. The warm water and his skilled technique allowed her to relax despite the completely unexpected activity.

As his fingers stroked the newly bald areas, it sent shivers through her body. He finished rinsing and patting dry. She reached to feel it for herself when Geoffrey planted his mouth on her newly exposed flesh. His tongue mapped the area, as Jeena’s hands stroked his head.

“I was just checking that I didn’t miss a spot,” he laughed, hopping up to dispose of the shaving equipment. He found a small mirror and gave it to the queen.

With some curiosity, she looked and touched and saw herself in a way she hadn’t done in many years.

The prince smiled, watching her in her own world until she noticed him standing over her and became self-conscious. Seeing him wearing only pants, she remembered what they were about to do when this interruption occurred.

“The reason I wanted to do that,” he explained, “was this!” With a flourish, he dropped his pants and his own hairless genitals came into view.

If Ricardo had been bronze, Geoffrey was iron, his skin black and glossy. Wiry and graceful, he was an excellent dancer. His truly naked organ swung freely as he posed to her acclamation. As if pointing to the midmorning sun, his flagpole stood out, with a slight upward curve increasing the angle.

The distraction and attention between her legs could no longer hold back the burning that the tea had ignited. The queen rose up to her knees and grabbed the appendage, pulling it and the prince to her. Holding it at the base, she licked the smooth circumference. She marveled at the testicles, angling her head to get better access, licking them and gently sucking them into her mouth in turn.

She did not want to release her new toy, but the prince reached under her arms to raise her to her feet. He led her to where a thick rug covered the floor, quickly shoving a table out of the way. He sat down and patted the rug next to him. As she started to lie down, he quickly spun on his butt so they were head to toe—or head to crotch, actually.

Leaning over her freshly barbered pudendum, he hooked her far leg and raised it over his shoulder, rotating her hips and opening her to his face. Jeena, half-dazed by the pace of developments, felt Geoffrey’s hot breath on her bare skin at the same instant his engorged licorice stick bobbed inches in front of her face.

She kissed and licked the purpling head, then drew it into her mouth. Sucking hard, her lips gently munched the shaft, taking it deeper, nibble by nibble. Her lips loved the hairless surface as her head bobbed on his shaft while her fingers swirled around his balls. Wanting to taste all of him, she switched to wrap her fingers around his dick while her tongue painted his nuts.

She felt the prince’s mouth working in earnest, spreading her folds to probe deeper. The warm slippery contact helped soothe the inflammation—was it the tea or the novelty or the wine or everything. Her excitement rose in a crescendo as he played her flesh. His hand on the inside of her thigh tried to hold her open, but her strong legs could not be resisted as her body soared to the peak.

Geoffrey felt his head trapped in that soft, sweaty vice as he reversed strategy and instead grabbed her ass and pulled her harder against his mouth. Her thighs enclosing his ears could not block out the staccato grunts of her orgasm.

He waited until he felt the tension leave her muscles, then gently liberated his head, taking the opportunity to sip the musky wine that her ecstasy had produced. Jeena regained her senses, feeling his hands stroking the warmth into her body from her knees to her breasts as his tongue lapped up most of her juices.

Although derelict in its duty, her hand still held that slick rod. She resumed her stroking and sucked the tip as if it were a straw, drawing out the accumulating fluid. With her flames temporarily banked, she could concentrate on his anatomy.

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Not only was his penis and scrotum hairless, but so was the surrounding area. She stroked his bald perineum and circled his anus, an area not usually easy to see on a man. She giggled to see it pucker as her finger teased it, but she was not going to be distracted from her main task.

Fully engulfing a cock ordinarily involved the taste and texture of hair in your mouth and on your tongue, as well as tickling your nose when you got to the base. But Geoffrey offered a delightful alternative. Jeena pushed him onto his ass and leaned over his upright pole. She began her final assault, spreading saliva and tasting every bit of his cock and balls before slurping his organ into her mouth. It slid in so easily, she was surprised when her chin hit his belly. He was no Ricardo, but his cockhead was nonetheless nestled deep in her throat, the curved shaft an advantage given her position.

Tweaking his twin figs, Jeena applied her fingers to the foundation as she raised her head, her lips sealed tight to maintain suction. When she withdrew sufficiently, she paused long enough for her tongue to swirl the head before returning it to the back of her throat. She kept a steady pace, leaning her forearms on his belly when he tried to buck and make her move faster.

Her fingers on his gonads felt his desperate twitching, and she poked and pinched to abate his urgency. The prince felt himself pushed out over the precipice but then pulled back. Geoffrey had many more and varied experiences, but Jeena had a few tricks of her own.

“Please!” begged Geoffrey when he couldn’t take much more. Jeena didn’t want to risk a less-rewarding accident, so she changed her grip. One hand seized the base of his cock while the other stroked behind his balls in sync with her head, which bobbed faster and faster. The prince reached for her head but could offer no better guidance than what she was doing to him.

She felt the tension in his groin and thighs as he gasped for breath. He almost sat upright when the first wave hit him. Her suckling mouth nursed his male teat, her ascending lips drawing out a giant spurt, then descending to milk out another. No drop escaped her tight lips as he coated the inside of her mouth with his creamy, salty sauce. When he had no more to give, she kept going, demanding more, making him writhe and jerk and moan.

Finally, she relented, and with a long careful slurp, she siphoned the last off his cock into her now full mouth. Raising her head, she swallowed his load, her tongue scouring teeth and cheeks to savor every drop. Geoffrey flipped around to kiss the queen deeply, as they each tasted their mutual cocktail.

Through the closed door, the queen heard the beginnings of dinner preparations. Although her hungers were best satisfied in this room, she knew she needed to return to her quarters to maintain the secrecy of the encounter. Idly, she reached to stroke that sweet dick one last time and found it stiff again.

The prince must have known the power of that powder and expected a quick recovery but had not anticipated the shaving interlude.

“If the queen wishes, I think we have time for a digestif,” Geoffrey grinned.

Jeena glanced at the clock and agreed. “Whether it was the earlier tea or your personal libation,” she licked her lips and giggled, “I find myself fully prepared.”

Indeed, her pussy was as ready and eager as his cock was. Rolling on her back and raising and spreading her legs in a most unqueenly way, she welcomed the prince on top of her. His penis pushed into her vagina with a squish, and the two worked against each other with the required dispatch.

The queen’s long legs gave him leverage. He closed her legs, leaning his shoulders against her calves, tightening her cunt on his thrusting dick. This would be no dance, no ceremony. They were both close to what they craved, what their bodies demanded right now. They raced together, with no way to know who reached the peak first. Both continued, grunting, gasping, throbbing, grinding, not wanting the rush of pleasure to stop.

Finally, Geoffrey’s organ demanded at least a brief respite and flopped out of Jeena’s slippery opening. The queen sighed, half contentment, half recognition that they had reached the end. She saw that her most loyal attendant had silently left her robe on a chair. With a final kiss, she bid Geoffrey good-bye, but could not resist a last squeeze of his penis. Standing with her robe still open in the front, she surveyed his handiwork, feeling the smooth flesh slick with their exertions.

“All the fashion, you said,” Jeena teased. “No doubt, it will become so here as well.”

The queen fidgeted all through dinner. The effects of the tea lingered, distracting her from the official activities of the evening. Jeena did her best to maintain her composure as she toasted the visiting delegation, not wanting her situation to negatively impact relations.

Her flushed cheeks caused her foreign minister to whisper his concern, and she confessed to feeling feverish. When the clock chimed nine, Jeena decided she had stayed long enough to avoid offense. As she begged their forgiveness for her early departure, the visitors spoke understandingly at her obvious condition—without knowing its true cause, of course.

The royal physician, a middle-aged woman who had cared for the queen since birth, prescribed fluids and rest. Alone in her bed, her fingers immediately sought to satisfy the demands of her flesh. Yet as midnight tolled, she remained unsated, despite her sheets being soaked from multiple self-induced releases. Her fingers, nipples, and pussy were sore from the repeated bouts.

Jeena resigned herself to confessing the truth to her doctor and trusted confidant, with the hope she might know a cure. But as she reached to ring for an attendant, her hand again found the soother, as she now thought of it. Perhaps it could provide some remedy. She closed her eyes as she touched the fingered end to her left breast.

The effect was immediate, like a damp cloth on a fevered brow. Drawing it across her chest, she felt the lightest touch that made her shiver. A patter of wet kisses followed the track of the soother, her swollen peaks relaxing to soft hillocks.

She dared to move it lower and felt the impossible hands, cool and gentle on her belly and thighs. The relief it brought to the surrounding territory made the source of her frenzy seem even more intense. The queen closed her eyes more tightly and gave control to the magical wand. Like a divining rod, it sought its objective. Unseen fingers fluffed her pubic fur, then stroked the bare skin below.

Jeena stiffened as she felt something wet probe deeper. The now-familiar hands were joined by a tongue. It flitted about like a hummingbird, replacing raging demand with calm comfort. Warmth rose as the burning diminished. Gradually, like cool breezes swelling and subsiding on a hot summer day, the feelings finally satisfied her without overwhelming her or leaving her wanting more. Her mind and body became a cloud as she felt herself floating, floating to sleep.

The queen awoke, curled up on the couch rather than in her bed. She was naked, with a robe draped over her like a blanket, whether by her hand or someone else’s, she didn’t know. She rose and looked at the bed, a damp tangle of sheets and blankets, noting the soother in its place on her nightstand.

Despite the trials of the night, she felt well rested. Her physician insisted on examining the queen, but she found nothing unusual.

“Perhaps it was something I ate,” Jeena chuckled.

Published 
Written by Trousseau
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