My King Ch. 03

Ulric took his hands from her breasts and reached behind her, putting them to her tight buttocks. He gripped her rump, raised it up, and then plunged it back down, once, then a second time, and then again and again, as her tits rose and fell in his face.

"Slow down," Elise whimpered, but the bliss on her face betrayed her. She looked nothing if not pleased.

"No," Ulric growled.

He fucked her hard and fast, impaling her on his cock, claiming every last inch of her sodden, squeezing cunt. He gave a hard swat to a cheek of her arse, and then the other, until they began to redden.

Ulric took Elise rougher and rougher, anger boiling within him. His mind ran wild with crazed, rageful thoughts, thoughts he'd never think were he not drunk with lust. Elise, the smug bitch, she thought Ulric was hers, her servant to tease, her plaything to rattle like a baby's toy, day in and day out. But she was his wife. She belonged to him. She was the Queen, he was the King.

With one last flick to her clitoris, Elise finished with a gasp. Her thighs locked and her cunt locked even harder, clenching on Ulric, doubling the friction on his cock as he forced himself through her walls. A familiar pressure built in Ulric, a boiling heat in his loins that begged to burst, and soon it did. A fiery pleasure exploded in his gut, and his cock stiffened and twitched, spewing thick, fertile ropes of white into Elise, filling her womb until it was heavy with his seed.

Elise went limp and sagged against Ulric as they finished, burying his face in her breasts. Their chests heaved as their flesh became calm, their muscles loosening. But they didn't lay together for long. Soon Elise was pushing herself off of Ulric, slipping his cock out of her and standing to her feet. She grabbed his trousers and breeches and stuffed them into his hands. "Get dressed," She told him, "And get out."

Ulric watched her as she turned and went to her washbasin. Her arse burned red from Ulric's hands, and a trickle of his seed ran down her thigh.