2009.19.E - Control is a huge issue in sexuality. Write a fic about having complete sexual control over another person, and the ways you maintained that control.
OOC: OMG, did Henry write this prompt for himself?
For a moment, when Henry closed his eyes, he could imagine that the sound of crowds cheering and shouting praises for their King and Queen were not for the Queen Anne's birthday but for the events going on in the royal chambers high above the crowded courtyard.
And why shouldn't there have been cheering and praises for the action in the royal bedroom, Henry mused. Certainly there was a great deal happening that was most impressive and admirable. Henry opened his eyes to feast them upon the moment and upon the exceptional beauty of his wife.
Anne Boleyn, Queen of England, was completely naked save for a glistening sheen of perspiration that in the diffuse sunlight streaming through the curtains, made her pale skin nearly glow. She was sitting just above Henry's lap, legs tucked beneath her so as to give her proper leverage to keep raising and lowering herself on her husband's cock, which was iron hard and buried in her cunt. Slowly, her hips worked up and down, a maddening pace that had been kept up for nearly an hour.
"Good," Henry sighed. "Oh, so good, my love." Anne, he knew, lived for such compliments and he in turned adored giving them. The thing she wanted most in the world was to please him, and so every word of praise from Henry maintained that desire.
His hands skimmed over the smooth skin of her thighs, briefly cupping Anne's breasts. Even as careful as Henry was then to keep from placing too much pressure on the pert pink tips, the moment his palms brushed her nipples, Anne shuddered. "Please, my lord," she whispered through lips tightened against the struggle to maintain herself. "Please, I need to come..."
The fact was that Anne had been straddling not only her husband, but the very edge of climax almost since the moment Henry had sheathed his cock in her. After an hour of punishingly slow fucking, she could feel both Henry's lap and the bedclothes beneath them were soaked with her juices, her legs ached from stroking him with her pussy and she was dizzy with the effort of holding back her orgasm. But her King, her lord and master and husband had commanded her. And so she would obey.
"You can do it, sweetheart," came Henry's words of encouragement. "I know you can, you've done so well. I'm close. Just a little more."
He, too, could feel pressure building in his loins. Under other circumstances, Henry would have been more than happy to have Anne bouncing quickly on his cock, his hips meeting hers in a frantic pace until they both exploded. But he had promised Anne a particularly special experience for her birthday, and this had been his idea. Still, Henry's climax was on its way, and he would not stop it.
When Henry's orgasm struck, he began to groan. That noise and the swell of his cock in her cunt were enough to push Anne over the edge. Her body began to tremble and her pussy clench even as Henry was speaking.
"I'm coming," he hissed, but Anne was already in motion. While Henry's body tensed and arched, the long-delayed climax crashed through Anne like a wave against a cliff, sending her thrashing and shaking, cunt squeezing down around her husband's cock as Henry filled her with his seed.
It was a long moment while both their bodies quieted.
Anne leaned forward to kiss Henry, but found his lips closed tightly and his eyes cool. "Clean me," he said simply. Suddenly frightened, Anne scrambled, despite her aching legs, to unmount Henry's cock and cover it with her mouth. With long, loving strokes of lips and tongue, she bathed her husband's shaft, cleaning it of their mingled come.
She sighed in relief when Henry's hand touched her hair gently. "You did almost perfectly," said Henry. "But I could feel you start to come before my leave. A small punishment is necssary."
And so, a few minutes later when the Queen of England, draped in a robe of jewels, rich fur and cloth-of-gold, she did it wearing absolutely nothing beneath. Anne waved and smiled at her subjects with the robe pressing heavily against her sensitive breasts, and with Henry's come sliding coolly from her cunt onto her thighs and still on her tongue. And it was a punishment she was happy to bear.
Henry, standing beside her, beamed with pride. Anne was most perfect in every fashion, so far as he was concerned, and so it was with clear love and affection that he leaned closer to Anne and whispered. "I love you, you know. And it is my honour to be your lord and master." The smile that was given him assured Henry that task and title would always be his.
OOC: OMG, did Henry write this prompt for himself?
For a moment, when Henry closed his eyes, he could imagine that the sound of crowds cheering and shouting praises for their King and Queen were not for the Queen Anne's birthday but for the events going on in the royal chambers high above the crowded courtyard.
And why shouldn't there have been cheering and praises for the action in the royal bedroom, Henry mused. Certainly there was a great deal happening that was most impressive and admirable. Henry opened his eyes to feast them upon the moment and upon the exceptional beauty of his wife.
Anne Boleyn, Queen of England, was completely naked save for a glistening sheen of perspiration that in the diffuse sunlight streaming through the curtains, made her pale skin nearly glow. She was sitting just above Henry's lap, legs tucked beneath her so as to give her proper leverage to keep raising and lowering herself on her husband's cock, which was iron hard and buried in her cunt. Slowly, her hips worked up and down, a maddening pace that had been kept up for nearly an hour.
"Good," Henry sighed. "Oh, so good, my love." Anne, he knew, lived for such compliments and he in turned adored giving them. The thing she wanted most in the world was to please him, and so every word of praise from Henry maintained that desire.
His hands skimmed over the smooth skin of her thighs, briefly cupping Anne's breasts. Even as careful as Henry was then to keep from placing too much pressure on the pert pink tips, the moment his palms brushed her nipples, Anne shuddered. "Please, my lord," she whispered through lips tightened against the struggle to maintain herself. "Please, I need to come..."
The fact was that Anne had been straddling not only her husband, but the very edge of climax almost since the moment Henry had sheathed his cock in her. After an hour of punishingly slow fucking, she could feel both Henry's lap and the bedclothes beneath them were soaked with her juices, her legs ached from stroking him with her pussy and she was dizzy with the effort of holding back her orgasm. But her King, her lord and master and husband had commanded her. And so she would obey.
"You can do it, sweetheart," came Henry's words of encouragement. "I know you can, you've done so well. I'm close. Just a little more."
He, too, could feel pressure building in his loins. Under other circumstances, Henry would have been more than happy to have Anne bouncing quickly on his cock, his hips meeting hers in a frantic pace until they both exploded. But he had promised Anne a particularly special experience for her birthday, and this had been his idea. Still, Henry's climax was on its way, and he would not stop it.
When Henry's orgasm struck, he began to groan. That noise and the swell of his cock in her cunt were enough to push Anne over the edge. Her body began to tremble and her pussy clench even as Henry was speaking.
"I'm coming," he hissed, but Anne was already in motion. While Henry's body tensed and arched, the long-delayed climax crashed through Anne like a wave against a cliff, sending her thrashing and shaking, cunt squeezing down around her husband's cock as Henry filled her with his seed.
It was a long moment while both their bodies quieted.
Anne leaned forward to kiss Henry, but found his lips closed tightly and his eyes cool. "Clean me," he said simply. Suddenly frightened, Anne scrambled, despite her aching legs, to unmount Henry's cock and cover it with her mouth. With long, loving strokes of lips and tongue, she bathed her husband's shaft, cleaning it of their mingled come.
She sighed in relief when Henry's hand touched her hair gently. "You did almost perfectly," said Henry. "But I could feel you start to come before my leave. A small punishment is necssary."
And so, a few minutes later when the Queen of England, draped in a robe of jewels, rich fur and cloth-of-gold, she did it wearing absolutely nothing beneath. Anne waved and smiled at her subjects with the robe pressing heavily against her sensitive breasts, and with Henry's come sliding coolly from her cunt onto her thighs and still on her tongue. And it was a punishment she was happy to bear.
Henry, standing beside her, beamed with pride. Anne was most perfect in every fashion, so far as he was concerned, and so it was with clear love and affection that he leaned closer to Anne and whispered. "I love you, you know. And it is my honour to be your lord and master." The smile that was given him assured Henry that task and title would always be his.