Текст книги "One Dirty Mesmerizing Medieval Love Story"

Автор книги: Selena Sexton

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Selena Sexton
One Dirty Mesmerizing Medieval Love Story

It was an unusually hot summer in the year 1602. Antoinette Burgess, the eldest of five Burgess sisters stood in line to court with the handsome Prince Thomas who's family had just become the next royal family on the island of what was later to be named New Zealand.

Prince Thomas was an avid reader of the classics of the day. He was a fan of the New Literacies and frequented the latest sonnets of Shakespeare, reciting them to various women that he met, hoping to win more than just a wave of the hand or the proper curtsy as they passed by him.

Apart from his reading, he was a lonely fellow who would sing in the meadow behind the castle and wait for the sun to set. He was rather quiet with his family and ate his dinner in sulking solitude. He knew that it would be quite uncustomary for him to fall in love with and marry a young Princess far outside of family ties. He just kept reading and singing Shakespearian Sonnets to the young court girls who wore bright bodices and crochets. All were pretty during this time, dolled up in the most makeup, of whose lips the handsome and radiant Prince wanted to kiss and embrace. He was almost crying on their shoulders and pining for them with his lips puckered, just waiting and ready to receive a girl who longed the same way as he was to get out of cultural norms of the time.

One day, Prince Thomas was out on his courting expeditions when a young, red-haired girl came upon him. Her name was Antoinette, the eldest of the five Burgess sisters. A spark went off in her eyes as she listened to him sing sonnet after sonnet. She loved his beautifully interpreted lines and couplets. His lovely voice just transcended her love and her appearance. After Prince Thomas's second song, she could not help herself. She was smitten by the gentleman, much to what would have been counterculture for the time. The two of them weren't to care in this regard. He looked at her. She looked at him. Both stood with the glimpse of tears in their eyes and for the first time, it was as if their dreams had finally been conquered. They leaned in for a long and mesmerizing kiss. They twirled and danced around the marketplace as they kissed, not wanting to leave each other's side. After a big, hour-long kiss, they walked out past the castle and stood in the tall grass where they couldn't be seen. Slowly, Antoinette began to unbutton the collar of the Prince’s wool button-down shirt, exposing the most beautiful man she had ever laid eyes on. Once his shirt had been taken off, she stood there for more than a few precious moments rubbing her hands and fingers up and down his smooth chest. As the massage became less heavy and she switched to her fingertips doing the work, he started breathing much heavier, his lower extremities tensing up. Prince Thomas starts to quiver with every passing stroke, going up and down. Antoinette's fingertips are infinitely mesmerizing and gold. On the Prince’s chest, goosebumps start to form. With every stroke of the tips, he breathes heavier and heavier, soon to be hyperventilating and almost falling into a plot of mud beyond a whipping wave of the tall grass that shields the couple from being seen and accused of being a traitor. For a second, the Prince’s eyes dart upward into the sky. There's not a cloud in it. His eye's glance to each side, hoping they wouldn't be spotted. A few more seconds, and no. The coast is clear…

The Prince breathed a heavy sigh of relieve, half by reassurance and half by the medial pleasure of Antoinette's cold fingertips. As time goes on, Antoinette takes off her bodice and her blows. Now, they are both topless, pressing each other's barren chests against one another. They can't contain themselves. They sit in the sunset next the tall grass. Antoinette slumps up against the Prince, who is continuously worried that they will get caught on their very first unofficial courting. They snuggled up and with each close breath, they fell deeper in love. They hugged each other, kissed, and then put their tops back on and played little chase game throughout the tall grass, totally forgetting that the guards closed the gates at dusk. They would be left out in the tall grass for the night, sleeping in cold dirt and mud. After five minutes of the chase, the Prince thought the latter would be a good idea, but for now, he didn't risk it. With a quick kiss and a gentleman's "good night," he ran back through the tall grass to the castle and she went the other way home, back across the island.

From then on it was made a pact that when the two got in contact with one another, they had these little impromptu sessions of lovemaking and affection for one another. Both were of just ripe enough age to want to rebel and find someone that they truly loved. Each time they met in the tall grass, the situations got more intense. First, Antoinette would disrobe the Prince in her usual style, taking off each layer of his top half one at a time and then rubbing him with those cold fingertips, a few times, nearly bringing him to a shuttering and explosive orgasm. Antoinette, herself got the courage on their fifth meeting to completely undress there in the grass and make love to the Prince, after he examined her extensively from head to toe, which was an engrossing and hardening experience in itself. They were like the Prince and the Princess in Cinderella, finding love at first sight and running off in sneaky, blissful abandon from their parents and the whole caste system that they were forced to adhere to. The lovemaking got so intense that moaning could be heard from afar in the tall grass, as the two wrapped each other in kiss after silky kiss and roughly tumbled each other over in gestures of love as they threatened not to stray apart from one another.

They were on it on the double. In a quick move, the Prince slipped off hi noble pants and courted her in a much different way, through intercourse. They laid there, humping and circling each other, wrapping each other in a long-lasting, tight hug and kiss that was deeper than any kiss they gave each other any of the previous times they made love. The tumbled and turned through more grass, getting mud all over their naked bodies. They didn't care, however. They were so stuck in love, kissing, licking, biting and giving each other the moist, tender love of a lifetime as the sunset glowered over them and dusk had sprung up not too far away.

One day however, they met out in the field as usual to make love before dashing off for the evening when a grounds onlooker saw the folding of the tall grass and went closer to it, until he was within two, tall folds of grass. He happened to see the pants of the Prince and the shadow of the dress of an unknown girl on the premises. As he got closer, he saw the two, crouched beautifully naked, kissing, humping, deep in the lovemaking process. The intruder just sat there watching him with a mysterious glare in his eye. A slight grin had formed on his face. I've caught the Prince in the act and his parents will never live it down. While the Prince is giving his girl a double whammy, going deeper into her and kissing her small, erect nipples and making her pine for him even more, Antoinette looked over at toward the open bit of grass, precisely where the intruder stood. She made eye contact and recoiled away, slightly hiding her immensely naked body in a bit of tall grass. The Prince looks up at him and recoils. The intruder gets scared and runs away with the news that the royal Prince has fallen in love with the eldest Sister Burgess and that he is not to be heir to the King.

Shaken by what had just happened, they scrambled to get back through the tall grass to tell the king about the obstruction of what happened. By the time they ascended the steps of the castle, a bellowing voice calling the Prince forth signaled that his cover had already been blown. He was in for it. As he walked in the double doors, the King called to him.

"Son, get over here!"

The Prince came over.

"Is it true that you have been hiding out and making away with this fair lady," he asked, looking her up and down and then going back to the Prince, waiting for an answer.

"Father, I do have to confess that I love her. I love her so, and I would love to marry her. I just knew that you wouldn't like whoever I picked out.

The whole room seemed to pause. Everyone stopped in awe. They waited for the Prince or the king to speak again.

"What? You thought that I wouldn't like your selection? Why, my boy! She's the prettiest thing that I've ever seen. Of course, you should marry her! I'm not going to punish you for this, but why did you hide it from me?

"Father, because, I told you, that I thought that you wouldn't like who I picked to fall in love with."

"Well, like I said the choice on who you want to marry is up to you. Make your choice accordingly."

"Well, I choose her," the Prince said, looking dreamily at her, with a gleam in his eye. He was ready to kiss her again, one long death-defying, rule-breaking kiss. What's more, the king allowed and almost delighted in it.

The Prince went up and kissed her right then and there, long, hard and passionately, not letting her go away from him for a second. Everyone fell into awe as this sight and the king announced from the throne, "Let it be final that my son, Prince Thomas is to fall in love with the grand Antoinette Burgess, a real gem, and that they shall be heirs to the thrown."

With that, a grand ceremony took place and the King announced that she, Antoinette Burgess, was to be appointed into the royal family. She would be given a special medal that will certify her as a family member and she would be welcome to come over to the family household whenever the other Burgesses agree to let Antoinette come over to visit and possibly make love to her now handsome Prince.

Over the next few months, lengthening visits spawned the silver toenail of lovemaking, kissing, hugging, humping, the whole nine yards. Each session had at least an hour of the most intiment touches of the chest and stomach, followed by the coursing and removal of their towels and other coverings. The folds of each of their sexes were perfectly exposed. Five months later, Antoinette announced amid the King and all his henchmen that she was pregnant with her and the Prince’s first child, a boy. Another party was aglow with ribbons, balloons, strings, streamers and other decorations. The time couldn't be more festive. You had not to forget the end of the night. The two of them sat at the edge of the Prince’s bed and immediately stripped their clothes off and felt the touch of each other’s raging hot skin and chase each other to the kiss a number of times before it got to delicate humping and screwing. Then, both of their bodies went down slowly as each got in position for one of their many lovemaking sessions. From the Prince getting off on her vagina and screwing her, beating her well groom sex to a pulp and not letting up until he could feel her vibrating from the distant land of her clitoris and her screaming orgasm that would leave him smiling all the while. He had lain back once this after-party orgasmic attempt was over just to watch her still gasping and moaning, feeling the last fumes of pleasure winding down and the remainder of her modest discharge softly trickling out of her vaginal fold to wherever it naturally felt drawn to fall. She just lay there for a few minutes to calm down while the Prince got up to use the second royal master suite, the gold-brimmed walls shining with forgiveness for their pleasurable sin.

The sex got even higher on the stakes as their love continued to grow day after day. Their little son even knew what they were up to when they went to close the door and draw the tan, brown curtains closed. All their son heard was a little laughter and then the deep, consistent moans that he knew had to be his parents making naughty in the next room. What else could a three year-old child expect except the fact that they may think, "Oh, mommy and daddy are just having fun." Having fun was an understatement. They were preparing to make another baby.

It was in the middle of these escapades that Jonah walked in on them. They were so busy screwing, roughing and tumbling around that they didn't hear the door open or their little one's footsteps coming up to their bed. In the heat of a hot moment, the Prince just happened to turn around and all screwing stopped. There was a massive ruffling of the sheets that the two lovebirds were under followed by the smack of the Prince’s skin upon Antoinette's.

"Mother of God, son,'" the Prince shouted, startled.

"Oh, oh my word, son. You can't come in here," Antoinette said frailly.

"Mommy, I want to go out in the field and play, but Grandpa won't let me," said the little one.

"Oh, if Grandpa won't let you go play in the field, I guess you'll have to play inside," Antoinette said.

Without another word, Jonah went out of the room. There was a slam of the bedroom door behind him. He ran crying into the royal playroom, while his parents, so consistently horny went back to making out to the max. They just had too much fun screwing to even care about the needs of their child half of the time during that period. Antoinette would love how he would tease and please her by going in between her legs and hissing and blowing up and down her vagina and licking at her clitoris, made for a shockingly moist surprise. He would then slowly and softly lick up and down her front-most vaginal fold causing her to gasp and pine for him even more. Antoinette kept begging for more motion, more screwing as the liquids and the vibrations coursed through her, preparing her for a steady, long, and most pleasurable orgasm.

Unexpectedly, he got off of her. Antoinette looked like she was something akin to a struggling saint just released by the devil. She sat up and wondered what she was doing. When he came back, Antoinette saw that he had two things in his hand: some rope to tie her feet and to keep her legs apart and a huge branch that had soft and prickly leaves, like that of a toothbrush in today's world, designed to give her vaginal folds the tickling of a lifetime and the most hormonal feeling in an orgasm that she would ever experience. He went over to her, his eyes demonic as he plotted out what he was to do next. He got on top of her horse-style so she couldn't get up. Antoinette noticed that he had clamped his legs so tightly around her that she couldn't move at all. Her stomach was compressed to the point where it was hard to breathe. She almost had to gasp for air as he pulled his legs upon her and wrapped them around her almost completely.

"Prince, Honey! What are you doing? Dear. Sweetie. What are you doing? My God, Charles Thomas, what are you up to," She questioned in a panic as he continued to wrap himself around her as she struggled and he pulled out the huge bush that would give her torment.

Without saying a word, Prince Thomas went to it, laying over her just enough so she couldn't move in either direction, top or bottom of her body. Her waste was in perfect view, with nowhere to go. She was going on a magical, imaginary trip through the senses of maximum touch, some taste, and feel. He was prepared to give her the maximum thrill ride as he sat atop her with the big brush full of clear green sprigs that were designed to give a little outdoor woodsy quality while being among the most delicate of all torture tools. If Antoinette thought her vagina received a pounding during their last go at it, she had experienced nothing compared to the prickly soft magnitude of ticklish feeling as the small discharge of liquid would soon work through her, further enhancing the feeling of the tickle, leading to a far greater orgasm.

Without further delay, Prince Thomas let the festivities begin. He put her in a binding lock with his legs and belly over her as she tried to squirm and struggle. She couldn't get out. That was good for Prince Thomas. He took the bush and knelt it down to her major opening. He put the bush just inside the vaginal opening and rubbed up and down, causing her to gasp, chuckle and squirm even more. He realized this was working when five minutes later, she began to gently buck up and down in the opposite motion of the bush. The side-by-side friction of the two forces caused her vagina to writhe with pleasure and scoot her closer to orgasm. Ten minutes had passed and she was feeling sweaty and divine as the tickle of the brush got slower and more intense.

"Don't go slower! Honey! I'm so horny! Go faster, faster,"

Prince Thomas ignored her request and kept slowing down the tempo of the brush. He got it down to the point where it was practically sitting there in her vagina waiting to be moved. In fact, on one of the other trips up and down the fold, he stopped the bush right at the top and slowly traced it vertically in and out of the topmost skin. At the touch of this, Antoinette went into her deep, guttural moans that he always loved to hear when they were screwing.

"Ooh! Oh! Oh my God, my Lord! My dear! Oh my Lord," was all that she could keep saying as each vertical stroke brought her closer and closer to steamy orgasm.

He kept doing it as she kept gasping and moaning, now almost at the top of her lungs. It was a wonder that one of the other countrymen from the first ranks didn't come running in because of the noise. If anyone did hear what was going on, they apparently wanted to keep it hush-hush. As he continued to torture the top of her vaginal fold, she stretched her legs farther apart, vying for more air to pass through the unoccupied parts of the fold not yet tormented by the bush. Just when she thought that a particular area wouldn't be tormented, there the brush was, striking, rubbing and pleasing her, making the insides of her sex scream with excitement.

While the Prince had been stroking the top of her organ with the bush, the speed of this attempt had gotten faster to the point where fluids were now coursing in vast amounts through her stomach and groin, past her ovaries and down to the bay to be released at any moment. The brushing now went back to the original up-and-down motion, coursing the fluids further through her, stopping at the brim of coming out as discharge. As she tried to settle back down, jabs of pleasurable pain kept coursing through her, the stinging tickle of the bush now gave her piercing, painful orgasmic feelings with every tickle. The Prince took this as a sign to get slower in tickling her, as if he had been reading the fear in her mind. The slower he went, the sharper the stings of orgasm got. It got to the point where the pleasurable pain in her vagina was spreading to her inner groin and stomach. The Prince got to a practical standstill with very slow, tantalizing, nail-biting micro-movement. She was past screaming. She was howling so loud that people out in the field could hear her throat-tearing squawks. As the Prince got slower and slower with the swiping bush, brushing her now-vibrating clitoris, she bucked up and down. This motion only forced her closer to the edge. The piercing vaginal spasms were so sharp, they made her sick to her stomach.

Two minutes later, she was bucking up and down when one last gust of orgasmic pain coursed through her vagina. She stopped, tears welling up and spilling from her eyes. She was sobbing as the pain got so bad and the liquids were so close to spitting out, it almost made the Prince stop in his tracks. However, no. He kept going. One more strike of the bush in her vaginal fold and she went over the top, spitting up all her pent-up discharge as her clit and other vaginal sub-organs swelled to maximum capacity and vibrated more violently than ever, forcing the most painful orgasm out that she had ever experienced. As she went over the edge, she cried, "Oh no!" in a slow and oddly pleasurable and desperate voice. He kept whisking the brush in and out as the discharge from her vagina piled up and spilled over onto the sheets another blankets. The pain swelled into a tantalizing itch as the last of the semen coursed out, causing her to gasp and breathe back in rapidly, as if trying to hold another throat-tearing, blood-curdling scream in. Five minutes later, her vagina was still vibrating, lightly pulsing up and down, this time without being lavishly provoked and prodded by the bush. The Prince got down off of her and undid her ropes. They both stood up and after a minute of staring at each other without a word, they kissed one last time before sleeping the night off.