Erik stood at the window of the Royal Bedchambers, gazing out into the night and watching the nondescript carriage heading down a dimly lit path under the cover of darkness. They had hurriedly prepared the contents Elena would need, although her escort got off to a much later start since the Queen had insisted on taking all of her scented oils, lotions, and additional beauty products. Walter, along with 3 of the most trusted guards had gone with her; the goal being to call the least amount of attention to the group as possible and keep it small.
“This is a mistake. I shouldn’t be letting her go,” he whispered, gripping the windowsill as he watched the Rocky(H)-pulled caravan lumber down the road, taking his wife further from him. ‘What king can’t protect his queen in his own palace?’ he thought, questioning every step to lead him to this dreary, sullen night. Erik was beyond frustrated with himself, but there was nothing the 28 year old King could do now, and he wondered just what her life would be like these next couple of weeks. Elena wasn’t exactly the type of woman that would agree to just sit around cooped up in some strangers house, and that worried him. He could get her out of harms way, but he just wasn’t sure if he could protect her from herself. Erik knew better than to try and tell her what to do, however, and he sighed as he watched the silhouette of his wife’s carriage slip into the darkness and out of his life temporarily. The King vowed to figure out the ‘Rat’ problem as soon as humanly possible as he turned and walked toward his bed, realizing that he would be sleeping alone for the first time in nearly 5 years.
Elena swallowed into a perfectly flawless, dry taut throat as the tendons of her neck flared their subtle beauty, watching as the outline of the Castle she had been raised in grew smaller and smaller as the click-clacking of the Rocky(H)s’ hooves separated her from the King with every step. She felt a pang of regret for not treating Erik better in their last few hours together, although she still wished she had been invited to the initial meeting with his advisors. Deep down she knew that her husband’s personality had, in part, been sculpted by an usual environment growing up. As sole and only heir to the Kingdom, he had been raised by a generation much older than him, often secluded from other boys, which caused him to be bereft of social skills and decisiveness that came with normal, everyday interaction. This lack of development was sometimes masked by his intelligence and physical skill sets, and so went unchecked in the early years of childhood. Such talents were products of endless studies and training, so he was able to still hold conversations on a myriad of subject matter as well as take part in the usual physical male activities typical of palace living.
Elena wondered if she could have helped her husband out a little bit more in the areas of negotiation, reading people, and other social skills, rather than always just suggesting what he should and shouldn’t do, perhaps adding to the problem. These mixed feelings seemed to tug at her and she promised herself she’d work on creating more of a mutual union between them where he could strengthen his weaknesses when she returned. As she looked on, Synia Castle slowly evaporated into the night’s air, the voluptuous Queen finally turning from the rear-view vantage point to focus on the adventure in front of her.
The journey took two and a half days with Elena mainly keeping to herself in the concealed carriage while the guards talked amongst themselves, stealing glances every now and then at the Queen’s hefty bust that would jiggle and bounce with each rut they hit along the way. A couple of times when they stopped for breaks, she overheard them snickering to themselves about how much they’d kill for her to be one of their ‘wives,’ but she did her best to ignore them. ‘They’re uneducated hired muscle, and muscle is expendable,’ she told herself. Even Walter was acting fairly distant with her.
Many of the places they passed by she hardly recognized, realizing just how little of her own Kingdom she had actually seen. Most of the events of Synia occurred in a few larger towns, and so there wasn’t much need for the members of nobility to travel to the far away villages. The exotic and stunningly gorgeous 23 year old understood then just how lacking her knowledge was of where she was going – not sure of what to expect from the people or even the look of the village. She had been informed that they were headed to Edge Landing, a small village set against the backdrop of a large lake at the base of a mountain. The few questions she did ask about it were met with a “You’ll see when we get there Your Highness.” It felt like she was more of a prisoner than the actual Queen, and her mood had visibly soured by the time she heard Walter announce that they had arrived.
Elena peered out the slit of the caravan, taking in the sight of the village. They had passed by a few houses that were few and far between, separated by quite a bit of land. A part of her wondered what it would be like to have such privacy and not a hundred people around every single day tending to the most inconsequential minutia. Ahead of the them, further on down the road she could see half of the small village where a few stores, an inn, a church, and a couple other buildings dotted the main road through town. Beyond it was the large lake which surprised her with it’s sheer size. A couple of smaller fishing boats and what looked like a sail boat completed the landscape.
As they passed by another house, Elena wasn’t prepared for what met her eyes. “Ohh!” she heard herself gasp in shock as she had to do a double-take. Perhaps a 100 feet away on the porch of the nearest house was a man and woman in a clear state of passion. The woman was bent over the wooden railing as a man behind her was plowing her from behind, rutting like wild animals without a concern for privacy. Although they weren’t very close, it was still obvious what was taken place as the woman’s dress was bunched up around her waist and her body bucking against the man behind her.
Walter chuckled loudly, “Not exactly palace living, is it Your Highness? Welcome to the countryside, my Queen,” he said, clearly enjoying her discomfort as she quickly drew the slit shut, her cheeks flushed. “Is that … normal?” she asked, hearing the other guards snicker a bit.
“Sure is. I’m sure you’ll get quite the education on village life in these parts,” he said sardonically, “things aren’t very civilized on the outskirts of the Kingdom. You’ll get used to it though. Ahh, here we are, left here,” he instructed the one guard who was steering the Rocky(H)s.
Elena tried to process this odd change in her assumptions of village life, and wondered what exactly Walter meant by ‘education.’ She assumed things would be more primitive here, but certainly not more crude. The prim and proper Queen couldn’t dream of ever having sex where someone else could see her. As they pulled up the path to the house, she realized it was the one right next to the neighbors who were screwing, though she was pleased to see that some trees mainly blocked the view between houses.
“All ashore,” Walter said, instructing the young Queen to finally get out, “I would have let you put a stop to that, but figured you didn’t want to blow your cover,” he said smirking at her. Elena realized right then that the first thing she would do when she got back to the castle was to tell Erik to think about firing his ‘trusted’ advisor. Walter clearly didn’t seem to be worried about her at the moment and instead was taking delight in her situation, which he had authored from the beginning. The guards stayed back at the carriage as he and Elena walked up to the house.
She was dressed in a borrowed peasant’s light green dress that swayed gently as she moved, the fabric falling all the way down to her ankles, revealing her generic beige sandals with each long legged stride. It was the type of dress that had a wide circular neckline that stretched to rest just over the top corner of each shoulder, showing off her smooth bare skin while still almost completely covering her plentiful breasts. In a fashion that was customary of the times, Elena had a thin beige sash that tied into a bow to her upper waist with the two ends of the sash hanging down from it. Naturally, the problem with the typical attire of such a villager was Elena’s incredible curves, and her fantastic bust looked even bigger given how the sash affixed to her thin waist, tugging the dress inward to make it evident just how large her succulent bosom was underneath. So too did the sash reveal the wide, child-bearing hips of the Queen, though the long flowing material mostly hid just how round and plump her ass was below the surface. Before they knocked, Walter turned to her with a tone of warning in his voice, ”Perhaps I should have told you more on the way out here, but this experience is going to be … different than what you expected. Make no mistake though, Your Highness, the entire Kingdom is counting on you. So don’t blow this, ok? Old Harry knows what he’s doing and knows these parts better than anyone, so listen to what he says, even if you may not understand it. Got it? Wouldn’t want this to all be for nothing. And … try not to think like a Queen until you get back.”
She looked at him incredulously and hated the feeling that he was talking to her like some prissy child. “Watch your tone Walter,” she hissed, “I hope this will be the last time I have to remind you who you’re talking to,” she said, enjoying the subtle threat that may have indicated that he wouldn’t always be her husband’s lead council. “You can’t influence me as easily as Erik. I’m sure I can handle dealing with a few common folk. What’s more, if you even think that …” she stopped, as just then the door opened and they both turned to see Harry Jones.
Elena groaned inwardly as she saw her ‘husband’ for the first time, thinking that no one would believe a woman like her would marry such an old, pudgy geezer. ‘He has to be pushing 70,’ she thought to herself. Balding on top with grey hair on the sides, his gut seemed to be the a permanent storage system for many pints of ale, though the rest of his frame wasn’t quite so large. Fat lips, and lively yet beady little eyes were the defining features of his face. Well, that and the wart on the side of his nose. His smile was his only redeeming quality, though even it had a hint of seedy mischief to it, and Elena assumed it helped during his bartering sessions for his wares.
“Harry Jones,” Walter said, turning sideways as he opened his palm toward Elena, “May I have the pleasure of introducing you to her Majesty, Queen Elena.” She reached her hand out, bare feminine fingers pointing down, expecting the top of her hand to be kissed, but not even wanting to go through with that formality.
“Buaahhh hahaha,” Harry bellowed, as he stepped forward, his stocky build seeming to have some power behind it as he playfully slapped her hand away, “By golly I don’t shake hands with my wife, Queeny!” he roared, swallowing her up in an unexpected hug and breaking the touch barrier immediately for the taken-aback Queen, feeling her exquisite breasts press into his upper chest, just below his face, savoring how her enormous bust felt against him. He planted his chubby lips against her cheek, and she flushed immediately as he finally stepped back.
“Well, shiii-ittt, you weren’t kidding Walt,” he said, slapping his friend on the shoulder. “With tits like those, your darn-tootin’ she’d be spotted in the bigger towns for sure! Can’t hide those royal puppies for spit,” he said, staring at the Queen’s oversized melons.
Elena was beside herself, caught completely off guard by his behavior and attitude as she found herself flushing and trying to regain a sense of proper regal formality. Rather than scold him, she was distracted by something he said and she turned to Walter, “Wait, you told him about me Walt? When?” she asked suspiciously.
Before Walter could respond, Harry chimed in, “Got his courier letter yesterday afternoon, tis faster on those royal thoroughbreds of yours than the ‘ol wagon,” he said, pointing to the carriage. “Walt here knows I’d do anything for him and the King and Queen. He wrote that you and King Ethan needed help – an’ that you were a real looker. Daggumit, that young whippersnapper is truly a lucky boy, if I don’t say so myself,” he said, referring to her husband. “So o’course I said I’d help out and be your husband,” he remarked with that devilish grin, this time looking her up and down unabashedly. “Criminy! Where’s ‘me manners. It’s truly an honor to meet you, your Majesty,” he said, finally covering his tracks and addressing her properly.
“Thank you, even out here the throne should be respected,” she said, knowing it was a little bold of her to say, but wanting to get her point across that she wasn’t going to be talked to like some common wench, “Wouldn’t want to have to have the ‘whippersnapper’ of a King send more guards your way,” she added a bit haughtily but then flashed a sweet smile as she looked at him to soften the force of the comment. Harry and Walter exchanged looks and then Walter cleared his throat.
“Ah Harry, we’ll need to unload the Queen’s possessions before anyone walks by and gets suspicious,” he said, switching subjects.
“Righty Ho! Let me show you yer new home while the guards unload your things,” Harry said, turning and grabbing her hand, tugging her along and into the house while talking over his shoulder, “Did Walt tell you how things are in Edge Landing? Folks are mighty different here. You might be flabbergasted at first, what with all your mannerly Palace living, but you just follow ol’ Harry’s lead and you’ll be alright,” he said with one of his salesmen-esque smiles.
“Well I …umm … got a little bit of a taste from your neighbors,” she said softly, allowing herself to be led into the house by the old man and cursing herself for ever agreeing to this plan. She couldn’t possibly imagine spending a month with him and marveled at how the pudgy trader was already taking liberties with how he touched her and tugged her hand. ‘What is it about old guys that makes them think they can get away with anything?’ she thought to herself.
“Ahhh, saw a little hanky-panky from Louise and Logan, did ya?” he asked, referring to his neighbors. “Perfectly normal, perfectly normal. I swear they tucker themselves out daily on that porch of theirs. I’m sure you and King Ethan do the same though, right yer Highness?” he said glancing back to study her face.
Elena looked away, brushing her long brunette hair over her shoulder, embarrassed by not only the question, but the sad answer to it. The unfortunate reality was that middle-aged country folk were having much more passion in their lives than she was despite being married to a fairly fit 28 year old King.
“I’d uhh, rather not discuss and reveal the intimate details of my relationship with my husband Mr. Jones,” she said formally, pausing to look into one of the rooms where she saw all manner of unique items along with some antique objects.
Harry winked at her, “You already have, Me’ Lady,” though he gave her a sort of remorseful look after as if to indicate he felt sorry for her situation, “And please, call me Harry or ol’ Harry even.” He showed her the good graces of changing the topic as he pointed to the room, “That’s just the overflow of my goods from my store in town,” the old trader explained, proud of being one of the few villagers to own a separate store. “I can show it to ya if you like, though not sure if yer willing to dare to venture into town. Yer more than welcome to just spend your time here,” he said, almost goading her on.
Elena was pleased to switch the topic of conversation away from her lackluster sex life to something more adventurous, and she sort of chuckled, her suspicions that the old man viewed her as an uppity Queen seemingly proving accurate. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. I can more than hold my own,” she said, continuing to move through the house. The Queen noted, to her displeasure, that there was only one bedroom in the house, as what would have been the guest room was turned into a makeshift office. She put her hand on her chest as she studied the bed, trying to calm herself and wishing she had worked out more of these details before agreeing to this regretful ‘plan.’
“By golly did ya bring the whole Palace with you?” Harry suddenly asked, watching the guards bring in a couple massive chests with her belongings moving through the house to find a place to put them. “You’ll stick out like a sore thumb if you try wearin’ any of yer fancy castle garb around town Your Highness,” he said, though added with a wry grin, “Though feel free to show ol’ Harry any skimpy nighttime attire you might have,” he added with a dirty smirk.
The big-titted Queen rolled her large light green eyes and decided now was as good of a time as any to set the record, and expectations, straight. “Listen … Harry,” she said, stepping towards him and holding up a finger and putting her other hand on her wide hip, “I think there’s something you need to understand: there will be NO funny business. No sex. Nothing physical whatsoever between us. I’m just here for as long as it takes until the castle is determined to be safe and we’re rid of those … annoying Rat informants,” she said firmly. She hated to be scolding the very man that was offering her his house and hospitality, but she had always found out that life was easier the sooner you set everyone’s expectations.
“Well tickle me Pink! Isn’t that just a bunch of Rocky(H)-puckey,” he scoffed. “Ya mean to tell me that I open my home to you on a moment’s notice, cancel not one, but TWO lucrative trading trips, agree to take you as my wife and have to give up whorin’ in foreign towns and now you’re saying I ain’t even gonna get a feel of those big fun-bags?” he asked crudely. “What a Rocky(D)gone, unappreciative shame,” he said, turning away from her, though the corners of his fat lips turned up in a sneaky smile that she couldn’t see. For good measure he added, “And here Walt said you’d be more than a willing participant,” making it seem as if he was the one that had been duped by Walter. ‘Of course he did,’ Elena thought to herself, feeling instant guilt and realizing that she was only looking at things from her side up until that point.
“I .. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound that mean about this. Walter didn’t exactly explain to me what he told you. It’s just that – I’m married and I could never cheat on my husband. I hope you can understand,” she said, remaining solidly committed to her marriage despite the guilt as she thought ‘And especially not with an old geezer like you.’
Harry turned back to her, this time a frown covering his normally jovial face, “Well, have it yer way, BUT you can sure as shit bet that if you ain’t gonna act like my wife under my own roof, I’m not gonna act like your husband outside of it. Royal decree or not,” he said, leaving his comments open to interpretation.
“I wouldn’t expect you too,” the curvy Queen responded, almost laughing inwardly at the thought of her wanting him to ‘act’ like her husband in public, “I know how to handle myself.”
Old Jones simply shrugged his shoulders at that, “Fair enough, but don’t go sayin’ I didn’t warn you and don’t come crying to me and make a fuss if ya get into trouble,” he said, somewhat ominously. Before she could respond he added, “See to it the guards put yer stuff where you like, I’m going to have a little chat with your friend Walter,” as he left her standing in the house, clearly perturbed as he sauntered off to talk to Walt. ‘Well at least he knows where I stand and that I’m off the market,’ Elena thought as she began looking through the house to help the guards position her things.
Outside, Harry Jones walked over to Walter, making sure they were out of earshot as he crossed his arms, his posture visible from the house, although his genuine grin wasn’t, “Hell of a job Walter m’boy. Holy Mackerel if she ain’t the randiest little tart this side of the Great Sea then I don’t know who is! Never seen bigger tits with wider hips in my whole damn life,” he said, shaking his head and marveling at Elena’s beauty as he let out a long whistle.
“You have at least three weeks, hopefully a month or more though,” Walter said, not looking amused as he remained business-like in his tone, “Think that’s enough time? She’s not gonna be easy Harry,” he said, looking down the road and anxious to get the carriage back to the castle and out of sight.
“Obviously a month would be better to guarantee it, so do what ya can,” Harry responded, his grin turning slightly more serious before it flashed back again, “Don’tcha worry, ol’ Jones has it taken care of … and can’t say I won’t be enjoying every last second of it,” he chuckled, the features of his face slightly distorted from his laugh.
“Nice job on the docks by the way, a little overkill though. Was that you personally or did you have hired help?” Walt asked, referring to the fire at the port a few months ago.
“Shit I told them dimwitted chaps to go easy on the bloody torches. Damn near got two of ’em killed in the process. Got the job done though,” Harry explained, “we tossed in a charred dead rat through the Harbormaster’s window for good measure.”
“I’ll say. Erik and his Uncle bought the entire thing. They’re practically paranoid of Rats these days. Anyway, I’ll send word after the Feast of Eden Festival and let you know if you need to be on the look-out. We best be heading back while there’s plenty of daylight left,” he said, reaching out his hand. Harry looked at it for a second, then gave Walt a wink and pointed his finger at him for dramatic effect as he turned on his heel, Walt giving him an odd glance in return and then finally calling the guards to turn back to the castle.
Elena watched the display with piqued interest, trying to read the body language of the two older men as she hid out of sight behind the nearest window curtains of the front room of the house. She needed to see for herself just what sort of men she was involved with and whom, if anyone, was credible. She wasn’t nearly as trusting as her husband and, although it was a low bar, was certainly more observant. The Queen smiled slightly to herself as Harry turned on his heel, not shaking Walter’s hand and stormed towards the house. She was pleased to see that he was equally as distraught with Walt’s misinformation and manipulation, and part of her couldn’t blame the old trader for not wanting to ‘protect’ her given that he wasn’t getting anything at all out of this deal. Relieved that the two men weren’t in cahoots together, she turned around and pretended to be surveying her contents when he came back into the house.
“They’re about to take off,” he said without the typical bounce to his step, looking frustrated, “I’mma head into town for a few hours and grab an ale or five. You can … sit around here and get comfortable Your Highness,” he emphasized her title as if indicating he wasn’t happy with the whole situation.
“No, I’ll go with you,” Elena quickly responded, holding her head and chin up a bit defiantly.
Harry Jones raised his thick, hairy grey eyebrows as he paused, seemingly to think it over. Finally he shrugged his rounded shoulders and said, “Suit yerself, just remember it was you who didn’t want to be my husband,” he said, the comment once more hanging in the air suspiciously.
“I know I know, don’t worry Harry. As the King can attest, I’m quite the handful,” she said with an elegant chuckle, “I’ll be fine and I’m actually looking forward to seeing the village.”
Harry gave a casual snort, “As ya wish, we’ll leave in half an hour,” he said, walking over to the antique room to grab an old, generic engagement ring and put it into his pocket.
The twenty-five minute walk to the village seemed to do both the Queen and the old man some good, having been united by their mutual annoyance at Walter who had left with the guards after bidding Elena adieu. Her mood appeared to perk up a bit without the presence of her husband’s stern advisor and his leering guards. The voluptuous twenty-three year old actually found herself laughing for the first time since the day she left the castle, allowing herself to smile and shake her head at Harry Jones’ sharp wit and his way of phrasing things. The elderly trader certainly toed the line of inappropriateness, but he could get away with it due to his comical facial expressions combined with his old age.
As they ventured into town Elena began to notice the villagers walking around the street and going about their daily routines. To her untrained eye they seemed ‘normal’ enough; from the couple that was walking hand in hand, to an old woman selling odd-looking beads, to the three farmer men behind them who were had been walking in the same direction towards the tavern. However, upon glancing over again she noticed that with the couple, the man had his hand directly on his partner’s ass, squeezing it as they strolled the streets. Elena raised her eyebrow, but said nothing. Harry led her up to the building, as the chubby old man pointed to the sign, ‘Pourin’ Pete’s’ as he said, “Pete’s a good guy, owned the tavern for years,” as he pushed the double-doors open and waved to the bartender.
“Peter m’boy! What’s a fella gotta do to get a drink around here? Make it two of my favorite” he said with that characteristic grin, as he walked up to shake hands with what seemed like an old friend. Harry raised his hand toward Elena and said, “Let me introduce you to E … to ughh, ‘Lina,” as he gave the Queen a subtle nod, clearly trying to protect her name from recognition. Elena wasn’t sure what the proper protocol was for such an introduction so she merely gave a subtle curtsy and smiled at the mid-40’s looking barkeep.
“Charmed. A lovely tavern you have here Peter,” was all she could think to say as Harry chimed in and put his arm around her, his chubby fingers resting for a moment on her opposite shoulder as the tavern-keeper eyed her incredible hourglass frame.
“Yep, picked ‘er up wayyyyy down south near Sword Point,” he remarked, naming the town on the edge of a peninsula that was shaped remarkably similar to a sword. It was in the Kingdom of Dynesus, the southern most of the Six Kingdoms and a place he knew very few people would ever set eyes on in the course of their lives. Elena, knowing this information as well, breathed a sigh of relief, for it was a well-chosen place that would help protect her identity.
“Sword Point you say? In Dynesus? Hell if I’ve ever met someone from down there, let alone who’s visited,” the tavern owner said, and then gave a wink, “Well your money’s good here at Pete’s just as it is there, and if everyone in Dynesus looks like you Ma’am, well, I may have to move my business!” Pete laughed at his own joke, and although his livelihood was helped by paying his customers compliments, Elena appreciated it nonetheless, even if his eyes never left her tits.
“Me and Pete are gonna talk a little wares and trade now sweetie,” Harry informed her as Pete poured two tall mugs of ale for them. “You go on over to the side room and I’ll be back in a bit to join ya,” he said, pointing to the extended room off of the far corner of the bar that Pete had added earlier in the year. Elena nodded and grabbed her ale. She wasn’t much of a beer drinker at all, preferring wine, but she didn’t want to be rude. She walked down the length of the bar, her ass swaying naturally with each step, as the three men behind them on the main road entered the tavern and ordered drinks as well. The Queen looked around as she stepped into the side room that had just a few tables and chairs, setting her mug on one of them as she sat down, crossing one leg over the other under her dress and looking around the room at some of the unique art and odds and ends that decorated it.
Elena vaguely overheard the chatter at the bar between Pete and the three other men, but didn’t pay them much attention. That was, of course, until a whistle brought her out of her distracted perusing of the walls.
“Whoooo-eeeee. Now this ain’t something you see every day in Edge Landing, is it Jenkins?” one of the more muscular farmers said as he entered the room, his boots clacking menacingly on the wooden floor panels. Elena almost turned her head around but instead she told herself it would be best to ignore them and continued to pretend that she was looking at the artwork on the far wall.
“I reckon not Leon. Certainly one without a ring on her finger,” the tallest, lanky farmer noted, pointing to Elena’s barren left hand. The Queen inwardly cursed herself for at least not pretending to be married in that moment by wearing a fake wedding ring. She had taken off the massive rock Erik had given her and left it under the protection of the castle – knowing it would be impossible not to draw attention if she had kept it on.
“How ’bout you, Josh?” the man named ‘Leon’ asked the last farmer, a shorter man of average build who didn’t respond but just shook his head, a pair of glasses resting on his long nose that made his eyes look even larger as he stared at the side profile of Elena sitting at the table, his gaze fixated on her large bust.
“Well it’s unanimous then Missy, you’s out of place in this here neck o’ the woods,” Leon continued, grinning evilly as he pulled up a chair and flipped it around backwards right next to Elena and straddled it, leaning over the back of the chair with crossed arms as he sat down. “Problem is, it ain’t nice to be stealing things when you’re new in town. ‘Specially not from One-Eyed Albert at Water’s Edge Inn.” Elena looked aghast as she finally turned to address the muscular farmer who appeared to be the leader of the three person pack.
“I’m quite sorry Sir but you must be mistaken, I just got into town just a few hours ago and this is the only establishment I’ve visited. I’m sure you just have the wrong person,” she explained truthfully.
“Sadly, I’m ‘fraid not ma’am. I can prove it was you. And I can prove you was there. What kind of a hussy steals pillows from a nearly blind man though?” he asked, raising his eyebrow as the two other farmers gave a couple snickers as they stood on either side of Elena. The Queen, meanwhile, remained perplexed.
“I’m sorry .. pillows? I swear I haven’t even been to the Inn!” she said, her heartbeat racing a little faster now, uncomfortable with how the men were surrounding her.
“S’right Missy. Couldn’t be more obvious. Two pillows stuffed right into your dress! What a crooked little scheme,” Leon continued, his friends chuckling at the joke. “Ain’t no way them ‘baps’ of yours are real,” he said, reaching out a hand slapping it lightly on her chest overtop of the dress. Jenkins howled in laughter. Elena’s eyes went wide, her light green iris’s seeming to expand around dilated dark black pupils.
“Why .. why you heathen!” she said, “How dare you touch me like that!” though her voice didn’t carry the accusation with as much confidence as she would have liked. “Harry! Please come here,” she called out to the old man, needing him to interject before it got any further out of hand.
“You ain’t alone?” the man named ‘Jenkins’ asked, “Is she with that Jones fella, boss?” he added, looking over at Leon.
“Well it sure seems like it, ya nitwit,” Leon spat back, “We only just followed them in here a few minutes ago,” he rolled his eyes before turning back to Elena. “What’s a top-heavy tart like you doin’ with the old man anyway? You another one of his whores?”
“What .. what’s your rates ma’am?” the short, nervous farmer named Josh finally said, speaking up.
“I’m not a prostitute!” Elena exclaimed, putting a hand over her chest, offended by the allegation.
“The hell you ain’t! We knows Harry’s whorin’ reputation,” Leon scoffed. “Besides, no big-titted broad who ain’t married and looks like you would ever be in this town they wasn’t turnin’ tricks in.”
“I .. I swear it!” Elena said, her forehead becoming hot as she felt herself begin to perspire, not at all liking the feeling of losing control. “Ask Harry. We met and we, uhmm, I wanted to travel with him and see places and Kingdoms I haven’t yet,” she said, swallowing as she brushed her wavy black hair over her shoulder in a sort of nervous-tic type movement. The Queen realized that she had no back-up plan story if she wasn’t going to be using the ‘married’ alibi. She knew how ridiculous it must sound that a single woman would voluntarily travel with an older man, and how out of place it would appear for traditional village life, but she couldn’t come up with anything better on the spot.
“That don’t add up Boss,” Jenkins said as if discovering a hidden clue.
“No shit it don’t add up Jenkins,” Leon replied, “You fuckin’ go to yer Auntie’s dummy school to figure that out?” he added, giving his friend a personal zing for his family’s faltering business. “So here’s what we’re going to do, Pillow Thief,” Leon said, raising his upper lip towards his nose like a Rocky(D) before an attack, “Yer gonna yank that cute little dress down and show us all that you ain’t a thief .. and that somehow those are real flesh and blood breasts under that dress. OR … we’re gonna have to strip search you ourselves,” he said, “but don’t you worry yer pretty little head, we pretty good at strip searchin’ and finding … things on a person,” he said, Josh rubbing his hands together excitedly, “Your choice Missy.”
Elena felt like she could crawl into a hole right then and die, the archaic world of the outskirts of her Kingdom becoming all too real in that moment, caught in a vivid nightmare. She knew she had to do something to get out of this situation, and in a panic stood up quickly and screamed, “HARRY! These men are accosting me!”
“This wench definitely ain’t from around here. Listen to that prissy little accent,” Leon said, looking up at her, “You go on, call your ‘travel partner’ he said, pinching her on her large ass as he slowly stood. “We know yer his whore you fat ass slut,” he snarled, “Is the ol’ man’s nickname really accurate honey? Is ‘Tomato Sack Harry’ just as big in the flesh?”
“Tomato sack? How many ales have you had?” she said in obvious frustration and fearful anger as she spat back at being called a ‘fat ass slut,” her skin crawling and blood flowing with tension-mounting adrenaline. Despite her fear she longed for the ability to call a Royal Palace guard to put a stop to their licentious remarks.
“Yeah, they say his nuts are as big as tomatoes in that wrinkly sack of his. Does he make ya suck on them too?” Jenkins asked with a lewd grin. Elena scrunched up her nose at that mental image and figured they were just vulgarly teasing her on purpose. Just then Harry Jones walked into the room, as casual as could be, leaning against the doorframe as he casually sipped what looked to be his second mug of ale.
“Well Jiminy Cricket, ain’t you a popular one today Lina,” he smiled over to the Queen. “Fellas, good to see ya again and hope the harvest is as plentiful as Lina’s chest,” he said with a chuckle, keenly aware of the debate. “I got a hunch that there seems to be a problem back here. How can ol’ Harry help?” Elena looked at him incredulously. ‘Is he mocking me on purpose to take the side of the farmers?’ she wondered. She squinted her eyes for a second, perturbed, and turned her head diagonally before proceeding to explain.
“They … they accused me of stealing pillows for goodness sake! How ridiculous. Then they want me to … to reveal my chest to prove I’m … real. Finally they threatened to strip search me,” she said, highly embarrassed by the situation and losing her typically assertive tone as the pressure of the situation mounted.
“Ahh I see, well if that isn’t quite the pickle!” Harry laughed, “Seems you boys want first-hand evidence, eh?” he asked, addressing them before glancing back at Elena, “Can’t say I blame them though – ya are a little top-heavy honey,” he smirked, an odd sort of darker grin flashing over his face for a second, “Tis a cryin’ shame you don’t have a husband who could defend your honor fer ya!” he finished with a twinkle in his eye.
Elena felt her jaw drop, her full luscious lips parted at what the old man was implying and perhaps even suggesting in the moment. Had it really come to this? Was he really using this twisted opportunity to prove his point? “You … you’re not going to let them, are you?” she asked, time slowing down as she cautiously awaited his answer, and hating that her sexual fate was in the hands of some strange older man she had just met a few hours ago. That a royal journey of a noble Queen was being pre-determined by a lecherous commoner.
“That … my dear, just so happens to be out of my hands,” he grinned, clearly enjoying the schadenfreude of the moment and the Queen’s precarious situation, “… and is entirely up to you.” Elena knew that she would either have to proclaim herself his husband, or suffer the scary proposition of being left in the clutches of the perverted farmers.
“Sounds like Old Harry ain’t gonna protect you Missy,” Jenkins said, taking a step closer to the buxom brunette, and quick as a flash Leon withdraw a shiny dagger he had kept hidden and sheathed into his back trousers. The sharp tip was suddenly pressed to the lower neckline of Elena’s dress, obviously ready to cut the fabric with a flick of the wrist from it’s owner. The Queen’s eyes went wide in fearful shock, her breath abandoning her in the intense moment.
“It’s time we got ourselves a look at what all you be hiding under this here dress of yours. Don’t you worry though, we won’t hurt you … well … not as long as you can take some big cocks in ya!” Leon said with a lust-filled snarl, raising his elbow and turning the blade, a few seconds away from slitting the dress.
“WAIT! DON’T … he’s … he’s my husband!” Elena cried out in desperation, seeing no other way out of the perilous situation. The voluptuous Queen squirmed in place and felt a defeated mentality creep over her, yet decided nothing could be worse than being forced to submit to three nefarious farmers who apparently would stop at nothing until they claimed every inch of her body. “I … I swear it,” she said, lip quivering as she publicly gave testimony that she was old man Harry Jones’ wife.
“Bullshit,” Josh finally spoke up again, not believing it as he looked over to Harry for confirmation. The elderly trader with his characteristic gut had a sort of smug, clairvoyant look on his face, the master chess player seeing three and four moves ahead of time.
“Aye! ‘Fraid tis true boys, and newly wedded at that. She’s been a bit of a handful though. Won’t even wear her ring at times,” he said, fishing his hand into his pocked and chucking a small golden band with a similar sized diamond on it through the air; it landed loudly with a ‘cling’ as it bounced on the table before Leon snatched it in the air to exam it. Harry continued, “So I brought her into town to teach her a lesson,” he said casually, as if any other husband wanting to teach his wife a lesson would do the same. Harry eyed Leon, who lowered the dagger a couple inches away from Elena but still held it up.
“Something’s fishy about this Jones. Why’d you take a wife anyway? We know ya like whoring and sampling broads from all corners of Earth on those trips you take,” he said, not trusting the situation as he handed the ring to Jenkins to examine it.
“Yeah, and who’s to say you just don’t want her for yourself and not letting us have our fun?” Jenkins added, holding up the ring as if he knew what he was talking about before sliding it back on the table.
Elena was breathing much heavier, her mighty bust rising and falling as her fate hung in the air. She reached down carefully to pick up the ring, thinking it would help her cause to put it on. Harry nodded.
“That’s an easy question Leon – you see ‘er body? You ever see tits like those or an ass so fine and round? ‘Course I wanted her for myself!” he added, looking over at Jenkins, “An’ by jove, the only way to get a woman like her is through a daggumit marriage,” he said, laughing a little to lighten up the tension. For good measure, he continued, “And I’m sure you know the laws here about meddlin’ with another man’s wife. Wouldn’t want you three to have to be locked up for a month durin’ harvest season and all,” he said, that last part clearly striking a nerve as the three farmers appeared to lose a bit of their self-assuredness. Leon, however, was still wanting to put up a fight as he pointed the dagger towards Jones.
“Well then she sure as hell better prove she’s your wife. That could be anyone’s ring and she wasn’t wearing nothin’ on her fingers when she came in,” Leon said, not letting up just yet.
“Suit yourself Laddie, I’d be doing the same thing in yer position too,” Jones remarked, and then glanced over at Elena, “Guess you’ll have to come give yer ol’ man a kiss with those pretty lips of yours and show these boys we really are married. And, just a hunch Lina, but one little peck ain’t gonna cut it, so ya better make it good,” he said with a wry grin, “Wouldn’t want them to think their theory is accurate.”
Elena looked around the room as four pairs of eyes studied her, waiting to see what she would do. Deep down, she knew that now wasn’t the time to play coy; there was simply too much at stake. She had already admitted that they were married, so now she’d have to own it. More than that, the curvy Queen was desperate to get the hell out of there with a semblance of her dignity intact. She forced herself to smile and adjusted her tone of voice, pretending to be the old bastard’s wife, “Why … why of course sweetie. I’m sorry, you were right all along. I should have trusted you before and now I’m glad that we are married,” she forced herself to say as Leon lowered the dagger completely to give access to walk over to where Harry was standing.
As she approached him, the big-titted wife of the King saw the conquering grin on the old man’s face, knowing that she was reluctantly sealing her own fate with him as she now stood toe-to-toe and looked into his beady little eyes. She drew in her breath after a long pause and put her arm up and placed her feminine hand at the back of his neck, her full, soft lips parted just a bit as she gently placed them on the 70 year old man’s fat ones, tasting the ale on his lips.
The room was silent other than a ‘Mmmm’ sound from old Harry Jones who had slid his hand around the Queen’s waist, pulling her body to his and feeling those luscious large mammaries pressed to his chest. He opened his mouth and let his chubby tongue slip past her delectable pert lips, invading her personal oral space and finding her tongue. Elena knew better than to pull away, and Jones used it to his advantage, his slimy old tongue dancing with hers as his free hand reached up to grip the exotic black hair, holding her steady as the make-out session continued before the other farmers.
“Damn,” Josh said, the quiet farmer looking on in jealousy as the gorgeous beauty before him was passionately kissing a man old enough to be her grandfather. He gave a groan as the wet sounds of kissing filled the room.
Elena was beside herself, her cheeks flushing from making out with a stranger that she had only known for a few hours, forced to wear his ring, rather than her husband’s. She tasted his copious saliva that coated her teeth and lips, his tongue was exploring her mouth like a snake slithering into a hole. Finally she broke the kiss and wiped up a strand of spittle from her beautiful lips and chin, “Satisfied?” she asked with a haughty tone.
“Still don’t prove shit,” Leon rebutted, unmoved, “You did that just to get off the hook,” he said with lusty eyes, obviously not ready to give up his chance with her.
“Yeah, we need more proof than one measly kiss,” Jenkins chimed in, anxious for the show to continue.
“But … we’re in public,” Elena replied hesitantly. Her years of debating and palace courtyard conversations having little use out here in such a primitive world. Harry leaned in, his fat lips touching her earlobe as he whispered,
“They want ya to blow me Queeny,” he said, pausing for effect as he let her process the words as well as have her mind consider such a lewd visual. The Queen’s color drained from her face at the thought of having to suck his dick so publicly. “Don’t worry, I won’t make ya do it in front of ’em but yer gonna have to play along. We have to give ’em something and ya ain’t gonna like it, but ya gotta trust me.” With that he turned her around to face the men as he glanced over her shoulder at them.
“Seems you boys don’t trust ol’ Trader Jones for diddly squat,” he said, referring to himself in the third person, “I’m offended, quite frankly, but I got a hankerin’ to set my good name straight. I reckon a man doesn’t much like when his wife’s wrongfully accused o’ stealin’ property either, so I suppose it’s time to kill two birds with one stone,” he said. As he spoke he reached both hands up to Elena’s shoulders, his index fingers overtop of the neckline of her green dress. “Lina here does have some mighty big knockers,” he continued, sliding the neckline of her dress in opposite directions towards the edge of her shoulders. “Hell, Kahunas like these could damn near kill a man, so I can’t say I fault your curiosity.”
“Harry no, please, let you wife do this in private” Elena said softly, loud enough for the other men to hear as she stared down at the ground near her feet, incredibly embarrassed. She almost raised her hands to her chest to put a stop to it as he tugged the fabric down her arms, revealing a hint of her incredible cleavage, but she held back, knowing it would indicate she wasn’t the submissive wife to her husband that she had indicated.
“Quiet Elena, I’m trying to clear both your name and mine,” Harry responded firmly. “Gentlemen, tis’ with great honor, and proof of my claim, that I present to you my wife’s glorious titties,” and with that he pulled the dress down with a tug as Queen Elena’s huge breasts were revealed to three common farmers and an old man in all their bare magnificence. “Ta-Da!!” Harry said with a loud laugh, “Ain’t no pillow thief magic here! No Sir-eee! Just the biggest fuckin’ rack in the West,” he said with a toothy grin, the farmers staring in pure lust at the Queen’s splendid, oversized bust.
“Holy shit those things are enormous,” Jenkins said, shaking his head in envy.
“Well damnnit all to Dynesus. Apologies Missy, seems as if we was misinformed,” Leon said, licking his lips as he studied the sumptuous tits, while also covering his tracks in case of an accusation. “Didn’t think they could be real.”
Harry wasn’t about to let the opportunity go to waste as he reached up from under each arm, his upturned palms cupping the Queen’s hooters, “Oh, these melons are all too real Leon m’boy!” He grinned, giving both breasts a squeeze simultaneously, his chubby fingers digging in to their soft, full flesh. “And sensitive as hell too! She cums like a fountain when I squeeze these puppies when we’re fuckin,'” he said, releasing one of Elena’s breasts as it dropped a bit, jiggling in place before he slapped his hand back up to grip it again, sounding almost like a smack, “Ain’t that right sweetie?” he cooed, making her have to say it publicly.
Elena was aghast at the whole situation, biting her lip in shame. The 23 year old gorgeous Queen could barely fathom how she had gone from a cozy, if not monotonous, palace life to suddenly being forced to be topless in front of strange men. The nape of her neck had turned a pinkish hue to match her embarrassment. Still, she knew she had to respond or perhaps face worse consequences. “That’s … that’s right. I like when he squeezes them when we’re … making love,” she said, unable to look the famers in their eyes.
“Baahahaha, making love! Shit, like they’re going to believe we make sweet tender love Lina,” Harry chuckled, raising up his fingers to pinch her nipple and pull it away from her breast for a second, “Cute though,” he said, kneading her other breast more openly as he felt the stunning fullness of her bosom roll and contour to his hand. Harry weighed them in his palms, and couldn’t help but picture just how hot they’d feel in his fingers when he’d be pounding her from behind. ‘Shit she’s perfect,’ he thought to himself, beyond ready to fuck her into tomorrow.
Josh finally blurted out, “You … you got a sister?” as the other three men laughed at his bashful comment.
“Sorry to say, but she don’t Josh, unless she’s pretending again!” Harry said, “Now then, our last item of business is her punishment for pretending like she wasn’t my wife.” Elena perked up, raising her head,
“Punishment?! Harry .. honey .. I’ve done what you’ve asked,” she said, trying to dissuade him yet still sound like his wife.
“‘Fraid not sweetie. Ya didn’t trust ol’ Harry from the beginning and these fine farmers called ya out on it. Can’t have a wife of mine waltzin’ through town without a ring on her finger – pretending like she’s single,” he said as Elena felt her heart drop.
Harry continued, “I trust you boys will consider this here dispute today to be completely resolved after witnessing her punishment?” he said, dangling the carrot out in front of them if they wanted to see what he was talking about.
“Sounds fair,” Jenkins said, “… don’t let her cover her tits though,” he added lewdly, essentially acknowledging Harry was in control. Elena noted it too, and despite her embarrassment, was partially relieved that the old man had wrested the power from the three farmers. Of course, she still was disgusted by him for how he had done it. Even Leon didn’t put up much of a fight.
“Serious allegation, pretending not to be married,” was all he noted.
“Damn straight it is Leon! So Lina here is going to tell you guys exactly what she’s going to be from now on, and what she’s going to do for me, isn’t that right sweetie?” he said, giving her breasts one more final squeeze as he whispered in her ear once more, “Everything you say from this point forward WILL happen and I’ll take it as your own personal permission. This is no longer ‘acting’ Elena. I warned you, and this is the price. If you want to get out of here, then you WILL be my wife, and all that entails, for as long as you’re in Edge Landing, ya got that?” he said, making it perfectly clear what he was after. Elena swallowed into a dry throat, knowing the full weight of that statement and what it implied.
She slowly nodded, knowing she had no choice, despising her ‘savior’ in that moment, especially because he had warned her it would come to this point and she had stubbornly said she could handle herself, making it that much more embarrassing. “I … I understand,” she said. Harry smiled. Finally, he had her exactly where he wanted, and he would savor every single second of it!
“Ohhhh!!” Elena yelped as she felt his hand on her neck and his foot inside her ankle as he pulled down on her. Quick as a flash he had sunk down to sit on the nearest chair, using his body weight and his positioning to bring the Queen down with him, her body falling over his lap perfectly in the middle. Despite his portly old frame, the dirty lecher had some power to him. Harry pushed back as the chair slid a half foot backywards, giving the farmers a better viewing angle as the huge breasts of the old man’s ‘wife’ hung over his leg, her stomach on his lap.
“If ya think her juggs are somethin’ … wait til’ you boys see ‘er ass!” Harry Jones chuckled, thinking to himself ‘I can’t fuckin’ wait to see it too!’ He reached over and began fishing the green fabric of the dress up over her legs and thighs, revealing the beautiful shape of her toned, fit legs that tapered into a bit thicker thighs that helped support such a round derrière.
“Harry please … I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll be a good wife from now on darling,” Elena pleaded as the old man used both hands to yank the dress all the way up, multiple gasps were heard around the room as the Queen’s perfectly rounded, scintillating ass cheeks came into view.
“Yer damn right you’ll be a good wife from now on!” Ol’Jones roared, his eyes marveling at the exquisite sight of her beautifully plump, curved rear before him. He put one hand on her shoulders, keeping her in place as he gave her cheeks a gentle, loving, patronizing pat.
“Son of a bitch you’s a lucky man Jones!” Leon whistled. Jenkins, still standing, had unabashedly begun rubbing his cock through his pants. “Hot damn, that’s a juicy ass,” he said under his breath as Harry tugged down Elena’s panties, her thicker booty now bared for the men to see.
The old man then ran his hand over her nude flesh, jiggling her cheeks and enjoying their meaty, but still somehow soft curvature; the perfect blend of doughy, yet sculpted flesh. Elena’s ass felt even better than it looked and he dipped his pudgy fingers between her thighs, lightly brushing her bare clit. Dry. He gave a sort of arrogant glance at her body, thinking to himself, ‘We’ll just see how long that lasts.’ The fact that the busty wife of King Erik was still clinging to her morality exhilarated him, making the chase all that much more enjoyable.
“Seven spanks, I think, should fit the crime. Seven’s a lucky number and ya can sure bet I plan on gettin’ lucky tonight!” he laughed, enjoying his own joke, before continuing. “Lina here wants to tell you guys something after each one,” he said as the farmers looked on, not sure what he meant by that. Harry grinned as he continued to follow the Queens’ ass, nearly delirious in his power over her. Harry whispered in her ear as Elena cringed, her shoulders tightening up nervously as she put one hand on the floor to balance herself, the other was trapped between her side and Harry’s profound beer gut. “ONE!” he called out a second before impact.
SMACK. “AGHHH!” Elena squealed.
The hand came down hard, the sound of palm-on-ass-flesh ricocheted around the room, and when Harry lifted his hand a red outline of his palm was perfectly viewable on her far round cheek. “I … I’m sorry for teasing you boys by pretending I was single,” she said, and Harry quickly responded. “Louder next time!” before leaning down and again whispering in her ear what he expected her to say next.
“Ugghhh!” the big-breasted Queen cringed. Elena wiggled her ass, trying to spread the pain of the spank to other areas of her skin as he connected with her other cheek, “I … I only belong to one man … H…Harry, my husband!” she said, feeling like she was being completely adulterous by saying those words of infidelity, despite being essentially blackmail into it.
“This is so hot,” Josh pointed out, sitting down into a chair as he tugged on his crotch.
“Yeah! Look at her ass jiggle with each spank, Boss!” Jenkins remarked.
Leon didn’t even mock him this time, “No shit, fuckin’ unreal ass,” he said.
“THREE!” Harry yelled, bringing his open palm down near the first spot into a skin-on-skin spanking sound.
“Aiyyyyyeee,” Elena grimaced but continued, “I am his loyal … sss… submissive wife,” she said, hesitating but finally uttering the ‘word’ submissive, hating how it brought a sort of taboo sense of intriguing shame to her mind. With Erik, she had never for a second been submissive, and in fact, had never been in a relationship where she didn’t have control. Harry, it was obvious, would be completely different, as he continued to whisper to her between slaps.
“FOUR!” the old codger said with glee, smacking down on his wife’s delectable butt and gripping her luscious ass, jiggling it for good measure. Elena was practically gyrating now on his lap, attempting to avoid the pain or reduce it’s impact as multiple handprints were evident now on each asscheek.
“UGHH!” she panted, her ass feeling warm to his touch as she proclaimed, “From now on I will do exactly what he says!” she said, beyond embarrassed at what he was making her say.
“You’s the luckiest man on Earth,” Jenkins proclaimed, unzipping himself and now stroking his 6 inch boner with vigor, unable to stop.
“Bloody hell Jenkins!” Leon said, looking over at his friend, then to Josh, who was doing the same, “Shit, you too Josh?” he said, amused that the shy Josh was actually slightly longer and thicker than the bolder, though less intelligent, Jenkins.
“FIVE!” the stocky old trader yelled. “EEIYYYYAAA” Elena gasped, her feet moving up and down in mid air alternatively as her legs responded to the powerful spanking. She closed her eyes, not wanting to say the next line he gave her.
“I … I love his c… cocck and huge… b… balls!” she called out shamefully, and by now she could feel a not-so-subtle hardening under her stomach. Harry knew that because of the angle and because she was already lying on him, that his cock wouldn’t fully be able to press up into her, which was fine with him since it slightly masked the size of his impressive dick.
“Can we .. can we watch them fuck,” Josh blurted out. He was yanking his bare cock now rapidly, his glasses fogging up as he breathed awkwardly through his nose.
“This bitch is too timid,” Leon said, “but damn that would be fun.”
“Yer a smart young whipper snapper Leon!” Harry exclaimed, “We tend to keep our tender love-making to private sessions,” he said, purposely calling it ‘love-making’ as the other men snorted in response to the joke. He leaned down to whisper again, and Elena visibly squirmed at what he said.
“SIX!” he yelled out. “UNNGHGHH!” the Queen groaned as the fat hand met her curvaceous rear, the red handprints now turning white on her lighter tanned-backside as her juicy ass rippled from the powerful spank..
“I .. I’m .. I’m going to fuck him so good tonight,” she said softly, hanging her head in shame as she knew she was foreshadowing their night together. Harry reached over with both hands and shook those mouth-watering ass cheeks between his fat fingers, watching them wobble as he manipulated his ‘wife’s’ posterior.
“SEVEN!!” Harry chortled, this time reaching up with both hands and landing them, fingers spread, loudly on Elena’s fat ass, keeping them there. “AIYYEEEE” she responded, her lips quivering as she had to deliver the last message.
“And I’m … so wet thinking about it!” she blurted out, just as Josh let out a “HnnGHH” as his cock lurched, spewing his spunk right onto the table over multiple thick ropes of cum.
Harry grinned, watching the scene unfold perfectly as he slowly and gently crept his chubby hand back down between the Queen’s scandalously thick thighs, finding the bare lips of her sacred married pussy once more. This time, to his delight, there was a slight, though evident moist wetness to them, to the point that it basked his finger in a thin layer of shiny wetness. The old men held up his finger proudly.
“Guess my sex-hungry wife ain’t a liar at all, eh boys?” he said, showing them his wet finger as Jenkins groaned and spunked all over the floor with a dutiful, “Ffffuck” as Elena blushed in embarrassment, mentally begging King Erik for forgiveness.
“It’s time we got you home for the real fuckin’ show sweetie,” Harry said, his 70 year old cock harder than it had ever been in his life.
By : SteamyEncounters