They had retired to a side corridor, the music of the ball a distant impression. Once alone, Cyn had presented her wet lace panties as a present to the sovereign, and then she had made a grab for his cock through the uniform’s trousers.
Now they were fucking frantically against the wall, her legs encircling his hips, his face buried in her cleavage. He was tickling her boobs with his whiskers as she gnawed at his cock with her internal muscles.
He grunted, squeezing her butt cheeks, and she let out a squeal, pushing him deeper with her ankles.
“Up to my throat, you fucking beast!” she grunted in his ear as he started coming, filling her up with his royal cum.
“And what if I don’t come by midnight?” she had asked, turning in front of the mirror in her killer black and purple fuck-me dress.
The woman in black had given her a smirk. “In that case, you’ll revert to your old dirty, lame self." She had offered her a flame, and Cyn had taken a long drag from her cigarette. "But I trust you, dear. I’m sure you’ll come much before the clock strikes.”
#
Later, while the charming prince danced with Clarisse and the clocks struck midnight, Cyn was leaning on a desk in the office of the Secretary of State, while the King pounded into her with abandon, taking her from behind. She had got rid of her gown and was standing in corset and stockings, her boobs cushioning her as she rested on the desktop.
“Do you like it, bitch?!” the King wheezed. He was holding her with one hand on her hip, while with his right hand he pulled her ponytail.
“Yes, your majesty! Yeeeesss!”
Once again they came at the same time.
Cyn had never felt so alive. She archedher back and let out a long, deep gasp.
He pulled out and staggered back, his pants around his ankles, and sat heavily on a stuffed chair. She stood and turned to him, lighting a cigarette.
“I’m too old for this,” the King grinned.
She went and sat on his lap, one hand grabbing his limp cock.
“Don’t say so, darling,” she whispered, blowing smoke in his face. “You are the best cock in the kingdom.”
With trembling fingers, he started undoing her corset.
“Hmmmm… feel like fucking my tits, honey?”
The King did not reply, he just started working faster on the catches.
#
Cyn squeezed her tits together, rubbing herself up and down the Royal shaft.
The king was leaning on the desk, his pants around his ankles, puffing on a cigar. Cyn had had to work frantically to get him up again, but now his prick was throbbing and he was clearly on the launch ramp.
“Do you like it your majesty?” she leered.
The King just grunted.
Behind them, the office door opened and one of the King’s secretaries looked in.
“Your Majesty,” he said.
“Can’t you see I’m busy?!”
Cyn grinned and accelerated her massage, teasing his tip with her tongue.
“You are needed for the Royal Toast, Your Majesty!”
“Yes,” the King gasped. “I’m coming!”
The secretary retreated, while Cyn closed her lips on the King’s tool, sucking him up with glee. Her very own Royal Toast had just been served.
Such a great chapter! She is so very decadent now, loving where this is headed.
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