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Royally Entertained

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Ass

The juggler acknowledged the applause of his exalted audience by bowing deeply in the direction of the High Table. Then he gathered his balls and his torches, from which black wisps of smoke still curled, and left the Great Hall via the long velvet curtain that screened the further archway.

The King, muffling a yawn, turned to his left, and whispered to his faithful squire: ‘These little entertainments are all very well, David. But we have seen acrobats and suchlike a-plenty. I believe it’s time for the special show of which you have boasted.’

Squire David, seemingly unworried by His Majesty’s petulance, replied: ‘I think the next act will be more to your liking, Your Royal Highness.’

Turning, he gestured discreetly to the Master of Ceremonies, who stood with arms folded and his fat paunch wobbling in front of him. The Master waddled over towards a row of pageboys who waited attentively behind the Table, and gave various directions. One page trotted away and disappeared behind the curtain. Two others grabbed long conical extinguishers, and, reaching up to the high sconces on the walls, dowsed every second torch. An excited murmur began to swell throughout the Hall, for the onlookers knew well what this dimming of the lights betokened. And all eyes soon turned towards the screened arch; the King, in particular, could be seen craning his neck intently as he eagerly awaited what was to come, for David had told him beforehand that the forthcoming act had proved a sensation at the recent commoners’ feast. The Queen, too, looked on, but in her case with an air of studied indifference.

After an interval of a few seconds, the edge of the curtain was raised. A man and a girl emerged, walking hand in hand towards the space between the banqueting-tables. They were plainly peasant workers from the fields, for their faces were craggy and sunburned, and their forearms and thighs well-muscled from hard physical toil. The rest of their bodies, which glistened faintly under a thick application of pine oil, could be seen to be shapely and lightly tanned (for each wore nothing but a narrow loincloth of black silk). The man’s black hair had been cut quite short, and the girl’s deep auburn locks were styled after the fashion of a page. Their appearance was impressive indeed, reflected the Squire; he made a mental note to congratulate the court dresser on how well he had turned out this pair for the occasion.

The couple halted at a point in line with the King and Queen, but did not bow and curtsey, or bursa escort acknowledge the presence of Royalty in any way. Standing apart, they raised their arms towards the hammer-beam roof and froze motionless on tiptoe, while the audience looked on in expectation. A wild orgiastic dance now began, both participants jerking their bodies wildly, running, jumping, even turning handstands and somersaults, each apparently oblivious to the other’s presence even when the flesh of their thighs or backsides occasionally slapped together.

Finally, by seeming accident, they ended face to face and, without ceasing their fluid motion for an instant, flung themselves into a passionate clinch, the ripe fullness of the girl’s bosom squeezed against the man’s chest. Thus they remained, mouths locked, fingers gliding over each other’s backs, bottoms and thighs, for what seemed an eternity to the riveted onlookers.

In a single swift movement, the girl now hooked her thumbs into the side of her partner’s only garment and pulled it to his thighs, then further down until he could step out of it. With a studied movement, the girl flung the black thong over her shoulder so that it landed just before the High Table, almost in the manner of a formal offering. The couple began to move in slow circles. Eventually the young man slid the girl’s loincloth down and off altogether. Padding across the floor, he laid the minute vestment beside his own.

The girl sank to her knees, lightly brushing her lips down the man’s flat abdomen. Grasping the limp prick between thumb and forefinger, she slid her mouth along its full length. Some twenty times her pouting lips glided back and forth, as her partner looked down expressionlessly. The spectators were quite transfixed, and the King, casting a discreet glace at his wife, saw that even she was shuffling excitedly on her seat and beginning to breathe heavily.

The girl moved her face clear, leaving the phallus engorged and standing proud. Both participants stood and gazed at it awhile in quiet contemplation. Finally the man knelt and then lay supine on the wooden floor, head towards the High Table, waiting for the woman to come to him. She stood astride him, facing away, and, slowly crouching down, raised his manhood between thumb and forefinger and slid her lower body over him. King, Queen and Squire watched the play of the muscles in her taut buttocks as they rose and fell. And now she began uttering little cries and shrieks (the King could not decide whether they were feigned, bursa escort bayan or stemmed from genuine passion), as she ground harder and harder. In response, the man began violently to arch his pelvis, meeting her down-thrusts with strong upward surges.

The King, frustrated because the angle the participants were to him meant he could not clearly see the point of entry, addressed himself direct to the Master of Ceremonies, who ordered: ‘His Majesty commands that you turn and face him.’ The King had expected that the two would respond to this by unlinking before returning to the fray in the orientation he desired. Instead, the girl froze with her pelvis lifted well clear of the man, but the tip of him still within her. In unison, they shuffled through a half-circle, the girl rotating her feet and the man pushing them round with his palms pressed to the floor. The King and Queen now had a clear frontal view of the riding maiden, who looked with an unseeing fixity into the King’s eyes. She recommenced hammering up and down, and a dazed look slowly crept over her visage. At his leisure the King surveyed her nubile form, letting his gaze roam from her comely face down to her the tiny brown circles of her nipples, then further again to where her plunging groin was spread wide by the poking member. Toes tightly clenched to grip the floor, the girl began swinging her loins in a circle that grew ever more frenzied until finally the man was swept clean out of her.

The two rested awhile, panting, then, as if following a pre-planned routine, the girl switched position, kneeling on all fours at right-angles to the High Table. Kneeling up behind her, her lover guided himself in, grasping her round the haunches in support. The girl began casting sidelong glances at the royal couple, as if anxious to see whether she was pleasing them, while the man thrust away vigorously with eyes screwed shut.

At long last he emitted a long shuddering groan as he climaxed. Almost immediately they parted, the man’s cock hanging limp once more. Rising to their feet, they stood side by side. Unabashed, they saluted Their Highnesses for the first time; he bowed deeply and she dropped an elegant curtsey. (Seeing them for the first time at close quarters, the Squire observed that their faces were haggard and lined; hard labour and the burning sun had added years to their visages, although their ages could in reality be no more than one-and-twenty.) And now, joining hands and turning, they tripped from the tapestried hall, all escort bursa eyes still upon them, and vanished behind the curtain.

The King cast a sidelong glance at his lady. Her Majesty’s erect nipples were plainly visible through her thin chiffon gown. Breathing heavily, she laid a discreet hand on his thigh under the drape of the table and murmured in his ear, ‘I want you. I need you. Now.’ His Majesty too was distinctly aroused. It was time to leave, he felt, before the smouldering passion kindled by the brazen acts they had witnessed faded. After all, he had a duty to provide the Kingdom with an heir, and recent attempts to fulfil this obligation had failed pitifully.

Once more he turned to his Squire. ‘Her Majesty and I are going to retire now’, he announced in dignified tones, adding in an undertone: ‘Put on something loud and showy, so we may leave unobserved.’

‘I understand, Your Majesty.’

David made another of his cryptic signals to the Master of Ceremonies, and moments later a band of troubadours struck up with flutes and fiddles in the middle of the floor, now brightly lit by a circle of flickering torches held aloft by pages. Holding hands, Their Majesties slipped away into the shadows, observed only by the Squire and their other neighbours at the High Table.

David relaxed in his chair. Now he could concentrate on the evening’s remaining amusements. And, for him and him alone, the night provide still further sport. Being master of the Royal Household conferred its special privileges. His eye happened to fall on two tiny piles of black cloth, which lay discarded and forgotten only a few feet away. He beckoned to his valet, who stood at his shoulder.

‘Pick up that young lady’s thong and take it to my bedchamber. Then ask her to come to me. She may wait in the ante-chamber until I am ready.’

The valet nodded and hurried away. The Squire leaned forward and pretended to concentrate on the minstrels’ playing, but a thrill of pleasurable anticipation was already flooding through him. Tonight, by candlelight, that raw, stocky beauty would strip seductively for him, and him alone. Then he would hand her the thong, and she would accoutre herself and dance. Finally he would whip it from her loins and fling it into the farthest corner of the room, as she had thrown it towards the High Table. And then the long winter night lay ahead…

A loud burst of clapping and cheering roused the Squire from his reverie. But soon his musings would become reality. The King, meanwhile, would be doing his duty by his consort, and David wished them joy of it. But the Squire did not envy him – Her Majesty, for all her elegance and maturity, could not compete in attractions with that lowly, lovely subject of hers!

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