Awaken - By Anya Richards Page 0,1

is but a prelude to love, my sweet queen, as well you know. I will exact my payment kiss by kiss, touch by touch, until your screams of pleasure dwindle to a mere whisper for mercy.”

The stag was now a tall, muscular man with gleaming red hair falling to broad golden shoulders, and an erection as noteworthy as that of the stag. Strutting forward with all the assurance and power of a king, he waved his hand, and more vines fell from the tree above to capture the woman’s wrists and pull them skyward.

“Oh,” breathed the Faery Queen, for of course that was who she was. “You are a cruel beast, Your Majesty. How am I to give you satisfaction if I cannot move?”

But the Faery King merely laughed and grasped his massive cock in one strong hand as he replied, “My satisfaction is assured, particularly when you cannot move.”

The queen moaned and rocked her hips in enticement as her husband slowly brought his fist forward from the base of his erection toward the tip. The action made the already massive cock grow even thicker and longer, so it stood straight up along the rippling muscles of the king’s belly.

The prince knew he should leave rather than linger to spy on the king and queen of the faery folk at their love-play, but the scene before him was so seductive he could not force his feet to move.

“Just a moment more,” he thought, cupping his own distended prick through his clothes, causing it to ache with greater intensity. “Just a few little minutes more, then I will away.”

Still stroking himself, the king gestured with his other hand, and the vines holding his wife’s legs moved outward, spreading her thighs wide.

The prince gasped silently as the silver-gilt hair shielding her cunny parted, revealing a glimpse of the dewy pink flesh within.

“Beautiful,” growled the Faery King, stepping closer so as to gently sweep his wife’s hair back behind her shoulders. Now her nipples were almost cherry-red, peaked and tight with desire. “I think I will take my time examining your splendour before I do anything else. Perhaps I should pleasure myself first, so as to ensure my stamina when I need it.”

The queen struggled against her bonds, crying, “You beast, you wretch! Don’t you dare to leave me hanging here while you spill your seed upon the ground.”

But the king only laughed again, and made the vines lift her knees, so she appeared to be seated on a hanging chair, with her thighs spread wide. The movement left her most intimate flesh exposed, angled so the prince could clearly see the full outer and delicate inner lips, the pulsing clitoris. Even her sweetly puckered anus was revealed to his eager gaze. Groaning silently, he pressed harder on his prick, licked his dry lips, enchanted to see the sweet dew of the queen’s desire glistening between her legs.

“Oh, but the sight of you, naked and wet with desire, is enough to make mortal or Fey lose control.” Circling around until he stood behind the queen, the king leaned forward to kiss her neck, run the tip of his tongue along one upraised arm. “Surely you know the effect you have on me?”

“I can have a far better effect if you let me loose, my love.”

The queen rocked her hips, setting the vines gently swinging, and the prince realised the king had his cock pressed up against her from the rear. The king’s hands appeared, encircling her body, teasing just below the heaving breasts. Seeing the strong fingers splayed over the queen’s delicate ribcage, golden skin contrasting to the milky flesh beneath, made the prince shiver. When the king’s fingers feathered higher, drawing runes and symbols of passion on the queen’s breasts, and she arched in response, wordless pleas issuing from her throat, the prince felt his testicles pulse in sympathetic delight.

“Just a little longer,” he thought, loosening the lacings on his breeches, pulling his shirt out of the way. “Just a few minutes more, then I will away.”

But he stayed and watched, growing more and more enthralled as the king’s finger slipped along his wife’s now rose-blushed cunny, teasing the plump clitoris, plunging into her channel until she cried for more and more.

And he watched that finger slide away to return from below and, using the queen’s own juices to ease the way, slowly enter the little anus. The king’s other hand plucked and rubbed the straining flesh above, and the queen screamed