Juan Carlos, King of Spain 4-5"( MFF anal )[2/2] Part 4 I held my breath. I waited for Serrafina or Isabella to laugh. I waited for the evening to fall apart because of my foolishness. Serrafina leaned close to my face. As she spoke, I could smell the dried juice of Isabella's sex on her face. This is what she said: "Tonight you are whoever you want to be. Tonight, you are Juan Carlos, King of Spain. This is your subject, and your authority is your staff." I felt a rush of blood to my member and my face, and continued to caress Isabella's back. Serrafina poured oil onto her hand and began to massage the back of our princess' thighs. Isabella moaned again and pressed her sex into the bed. Noticing her increased arousal, Serra took a pillow and placed it under Isabella's hips so that her buttocks were tipped into the air and slightly separated. Serra then nodded to me and pointed to Isabella's mid-section. I moved my oiled hands to her cheeks, and contemplated her beautiful backside as I massaged it. Her bottom was snowy white, in marked contrast to the rest of her body -- two pale globes waiting to be gently pried apart. As I was massaging Isabella, Serra returned to our night stand and pulled out a tube of KY jelly. She then placed a second pillow underneath Isabella's hips, thereby lewdly raising her backside well above the bed and separating her cheeks a bit more. I briefly wondered if such a position could be comfortable, but Isabella strained to raise her buttocks even higher to meet my wandering hands. No one had spoken for some time, so Serra's voice came as a surprise when she said, "Isabella, put your knees under your body and raise your ass off the bed. That's good, now put your face down on this pillow." Isabella gasped, but complied quickly. If she was uncomfortable to so revealed, she did not show it. My wife sat down next to Isabella's raised bottom, and placed a hand on each cheek. Again she looked into my eyes and said, "Juan Carlos, King of Spain, kiss the ass of your captive princess." I leaned forward and placed my lips on the left cheek of Isabella, and then moved to kiss the right cheek. Serra, still looking into my eyes, pulled Isabella's cheeks apart to expose her back hole, which appeared pink and embarrassed to be exposed so. "Juan Carlos, King of Spain, kiss the ring of your captive princess," said Serrafina. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to Isabella's anus, and Isabella gasped with pleasure. Evidently she had never been paid tribute in such fashion. Serrafina was smiling, and I could smell that she was as turned by this as any of us. "Juan Carlos, King of Spain, open the path with your tongue so that your staff may follow." I pushed my tongue as far into Isabella as I could, and could feel Isabella's ring squeeze around my tongue as she climaxed and pressed her ass back into my face. When Isabella finished climaxing, I raised myself and looked for the lubricant. I took the tube and began to apply it to my index finger, but Serra shook her head and said, "Remember, I set the pace." With that, she took the tube from me and squeezed the gel onto her fingers. "Isabella, [or did she say 'captive princess?' -- at this point I could not distinguish] reach back with your hands and open your cheeks." Isabella dutifully obeyed, face in the pillow, hands pulling her cheeks open. "Wider," said Serrafina. Again. Serra then massaged the lubricant into Isabella's back hole, all the while being careful not to penetrate with her fingers. That virgin hole, after all, was meant for me. Serra then squeezed out a larger amount of lubricant and applied it to my member. I was grateful that I had come earlier in the evening, because the shear anticipation was making it difficult to hold back. Serrafina then said, "Captive princess, ask your King to press his staff into you." Isabella, in a weak kittenish voice, said, "Juan Carlos, please press your staff --" "That's not how a common captive, even a princess, should address a King." Serra interrupted. "Ask him in your own words." Isabella, frantic with desire and filled with apprehension, mumbled something that was muffled by the pillow, but whatever she said it was not sufficient to pacify Serrafina, who leaned down to Isabella and whispered fiercely in her ear. Isabella moaned again, and spoke in a clear voice: "Juan Carlos, King of Spain, please put your cock in my ass." I wasted no time. I placed the head of my member near her puckered hole. It was then I first realized the difference in size: recall that I am not a small man. But Serra was not about to let the moment pass and, seizing my member, pressed the head firmly against Isabella's back entrance. "Wider," Serra said to Isabella, "wider still." Isabella complied again and pulled her cheeks even farther apart. I pressed firmly, but without haste, and Serra held on the base of my sex to guide me. My head suddenly popped into her, and we both gasped. We held still for a moment while Isabella relaxed, and then at Serra's behest I pressed a bit deeper. Isabella yelped, and we held still once again, only to press deeper at Serra's continued urgings. This process went on for what seemed like ages until, almost without anyone realizing it, my hips were firmly pressed against Isabella's cheeks. Serra leaned forward and whispered, "He's all the way in." Isabella gasped in surprise and Serra whispered another instruction to her. Isabella said, "Carlos King" -- her royal syntax was getting garbled in the confusion, but nobody minded -- "King, please fuck my ass." I pulled my member out most of its length and pressed back in to the hilt slowly. Isabella was groaning with pleasure. Out and in. Out and in again. Serra then grabbed my member and pulled it all the way out and said, "Push it in to the hilt in one stroke." I did. And again. While Serra, wicked and funny and altogether new to me, whispered to Isabella a final time. "King, please buttfuck me hard and deep," yelped Isabella, and as she was making this request Serra's hands moved from my member to Isabella's clit and worked it lovingly. Reader, in this instance euphemism will not do. I fucked Isabella's ass as deeply as I could. I fucked it vigorously. I could feel Serra insert her fingers into the pussy of our captive princess and I could feel the asshole of our captive princess clamp rhythmically around my cock as she screamed out a climax. I could feel the telltale tightness in my balls as my time neared, and this time without prompting Isabella yelled "King Carlos, come in my ass! Come in my ass!" That was all the invitation I needed. The disparate tinglings all over my body gathered to the head of my cock -- the center of the universe just then -- and poured out through the tip as I unloaded wave after wave of come into the asshole of my beautiful captive princess. I roared and she shrieked as I pumped my cum as deeply between her cheeks as I could. As the orgasms subsided, we collapsed onto our sides, and Serra kissed Isabella on the mouth. I felt glorious and dizzy. As my erection began to pass, I gently pulled my member out of Isabella's back hole. She squirmed as drops of my come slowly slipped out of her ass, and I kissed her on the mouth. The three of us remained there unmoving, catching our breath, Serrafina on one side of Isabella and I on the other spent, while Isabella quietly moaned in pleasure of the memory of my sex reaming her out. One by one we dozed off, but the night was not over, and before long I awakened to Serrafina's gentle whisper in my ear. "Wake up sleepyhead, you still have work to do............" ===================== Juan Carlos, King of Spain by Walter Mitty wwmitty@aol.com Part 5 As I came to, I felt Serrafina gently cleaning my member with a soapy washcloth. I was unsure of the time, or how long we had slept, but it did not take long for the blood to flow to my sex when I replayed the evening's events in my head. Isabella slept on, while my wife leaned over to kiss me on the mouth and squeezed my sex again. Serrafina then traced a line down my body with her tongue, from my mouth to my thigh. I flinched as she gave the head of my sex a flick with her tongue, and moaned as she wetly licked up and down the shaft. Without warning, Serra engulfed my cock in her mouth, stuffing as much of myself past her lips as she could. Slowly she stretched her lips to accommodate my cock, and I lifted my head to watch. There are few sites I enjoy more in this world than Serra's lips pulled tight around my cock while my head brushes the back of her throat. After several minutes of slow sucking, she began to bob up and down and pump my cock with her hand. She knew that there was not much danger of my coming yet -- having already climaxed twice earlier. She pulled her face away from my groin and brought her mouth to mine. I could taste my sex on her mouth, and she whispered, "Juan Carlos, King of Spain, you must attend to the satisfaction of your subject." I, Juan Carlos, King of Spain, was relieved to know that my subject wanted to receive her liege's staff. For tonight I had discovered that sodomy, like fellatio, was wonderful and exciting and a welcome supplement to any King's repertoire, but it simply was not a substitute for the tight, well-oiled pussy of a loving subject. As I rested on my back, my gypsy queen straddled my lap and rubbed her dripping sex against mine, already well lubricated from her saliva. I would toy with her. I would rub my sex on the outside of hers without entering for ages. I would make her crave the introduction of my staff to her womb, and then -- Serra snapped me out of my reverie by quickly impaling herself on my cock. If she realized the I was woolgathering, she was having none of it and we gasped in unison as her pussy lips spread apart and thighs pressed against my abdomen in one forceful stroke. I remained motionless as she pumped up and down, searching for just the right angle to bring on a climax. Her orgasm came almost immediately when I gently placed my thumb on her clit, and her moaning awakened Isabella. As Serrafina's shudders subsided, I gathered her in my arms and the two of us rolled over, she on her back, I on top. I pulled my cock out of her, and rubbed the head against her beautiful lips. Nearly overwhelmed with emotion and gratitude for such a sexy wife, I gently pressed my head just inside her pussy. Isabella sat up, reached between her legs, and caressed her clit as she watched me once again enter Serrafina. The princess, however, seemed to respect that this was my time to make love to the gypsy queen, and thus did not interfere. Serrafina lifted her legs over my shoulders, licked her lips, and whispered "Fuck me Juan Carlos, King of Spain." I drove my cock firmly to the hilt, pulled out to the tip, and drove in again. Her pussy squeezed my cock like a grasping hand, and as our bodies slapped together I sensed the imminent arrival of my third climax of the evening. Each thrust brought me closer, and when I felt her pussy contract around my staff I reached the point of no return. I lifted my chest off hers, grasped her legs in my hands, and in my roaring cowboy glory unloaded my come as deeply into her pussy as I could. We yelled together as we forgot our identities and simply came and came and came as pure hedonistic beings. As our pulses slowed, I collapsed on Serrafina, and Isabella -- forgotten by either one of us -- gasped as she reached orgasm by her own hand. I withdrew as my erection dissipated, and Serrafina's head lolled about in lazy bliss. Isabella looked at me, and asked "May I?" I nodded my assent, and in the last intimate act of the evening, Isabella placed herself between my wife's legs and sucked my dripping come from her sex. We were all very sleepy, and fell into a pile of arms and legs and tits and skin, this time with Serra between Isabella and myself. The last words I heard before falling asleep were Serrafina's whispers: "Viva Juan Carlos, King of Spain. May he reign forever..." *** The next morning, we awakened late and got out of bed even later. The next few days are worth relating, but that must wait for another time. Isabella left several days later; although she seemed to want to extend her stay, she also respected our boundaries and saw the week for what it was -- a playful experiment, and not the beginning of an open marriage. One question still nags at me: how did Serrafina know that I thought of Isabella as my "captive princess?" When I confessed to her that I was Juan Carlos, King of Spain, I did not mention anything about a captive princess. Could she read my mind after all? Do I talk in my sleep? Are my fantasies just too predictable? Or am I having trouble distinguishing between fantasy and reality? I have never asked her. Some things, after all, are best left alone. The End