The Palace Beast

King Afa's Chamber The kiss, excruciatingly delicate, a jolt of feeling, shoulder the frame. Eva's love for the king consume all of her thoughts. There's only sensation, smooth sensation, no words. Eva is abruptly stoned and feels helpless, not because she doesn't want it-it's one of her desires. All she could think about was being with the king and having the best of him. She gets kissed by King Afa. Her eyes closed, she is kissing him. They are standing in the center of King Afa's room, kissing each other from memory and exchanging every kiss they have ever received or given.

Kissing: forceful, quick, furious, prolonged, and leisurely. They are tasting the tongue, lips, and mouth. King Afa touches Eva's face and notices how soft her skin is; the lack of the scratchy, harsh shaven look is so strange that it almost seems unreal. Afa, the king, strokes Eva's face, focusing on the thin line of her brow, the high, light bones, the sweeping cheek, and the butterfly flip of her lashes.

She has King Afa at her breast. Eva lets out a sound, a conspicuously deep sigh that sounds like air shooting out of something. Eva finds it unbelievable that she is allowing this to continue; she isn't even making an effort to oppose the king. It's great fun for her. Tonguing the scar left by the cesarean section that no one ever touches, King Afa began kissing Eva's belly. Eva reaches out to grab King Afa, and something really weird happens when their hands meet at the same time. King Afa began pressing against Eva's breast. Her knees give way, and she falls to the ground. He follows her. Delightful. Delectable. Eva is kind and comforting.

Eva began to believe that it would end quickly, but in reality, it won't go too far. The king is alone as he explores. The king began to tug Eva's gown up at this point. Eva raises her hip, tossing her khakis beneath the table in the room. Still wearing his robe is King Afa. Eva grabs the girdle, partially believing she may use it to raise herself and get out of this situation. King Afa's robe opens to reveal him.

He lays herself across Eva, breast to breast, skin to skin. He was repulsive, not ripe, but against her. She groaned almost loudly, her teeth and tongue seeming to be alive.

On top, the monarch is humming Eva in an odd position while grinding against her. To improve her grasp, she reaches her hand under the king's ass.

Eva says, "It's okay." It's alright.

The king's fingers slide in between Eva's legs.

Eva sighs, blending the words "Aww" and "Ow," meaning agony and pleasure. Determining what hurts takes a minute. Eva says, "Your ring."

She is being scraped by the king's signet ring's high gold mount. After removing the ring, which skitters across the floor, the king puts his hand back into Eva and finds the right place. He enters and exits more rapidly and forcefully. Eva arrives with tremendous guttural exaltations and cacophonous spasms. She feels as though a seal has broken and is overflowing with fluid; during convulsions, her womb contracts as if Eva is being forced out.

The king's mouth slides south just as Eva thinks it's finished and begins to unwind, freezing her at the peak of sensation and shocking her body with a single tongue flick. Her body is spread out. Eva is focused, seeking to ascertain the king's exact actions. An electric surge, a tiny stinging jolt, shoots through her body with every lick and flick.

She is seeing brief light flashes and pictures. She seems to be dying, going insane, or losing consciousness. She is at her breaking point-it's too much. The king is pushed away by her.

The Kingdom of Wex Kay and King Charles are both heavily clothed as they lay next to one another in their undies. Kay started laughing out loud at that moment. "What's funny?" the king questioned, glancing at Kay.

She smiled broadly and said, "I just remembered the last sex I had with King Afa on the day of his coronation."

"You miss it right?" he inquired inquisitively.

Kay said no word but kept mute. She doesn't know if it's right to talk about it with King Charles.

"Maybe I will take over from him and make you my queen."

"I feel used by him and I want to hurt him so badly."

"We can do that together," King Charles said caressing Kay's breast. "I want you to get rid of the memories you have ever shared with him." King Charles says. "It's not easy," Kay mutters.

It's evident that she cherishes the memories she shared with King Afa, as they spent a significant amount of time together. It seems that King Charles' request is either incredibly challenging or entirely unattainable, based on her reaction. "All I could think is the way he does it with me. He put his head between my legs, nuzzling at first. His beard was a little rough on the insides of my thighs. Then with his lips, then his tongue, he struck fire. I had to cry out in astonishment, in gratitude at being touched in that right place. Somehow, it always makes me grateful when a man finds the right place, maybe because when I was young so many of them kept finding the wrong place, or a series of wrong places, or no place at all. That strange feeling: gratitude and hunger. My hunger was being teased. It also felt like a punishment. I kept thinking of the word thrum, a cross between a throb and hum. I saw a flame trying to catch; I heard it, there was something I was after, something I was trying to achieve, and there was always the danger that I'd miss it, I wouldn't find it, or get hold of it. The terrible moment when you're afraid you won't, you'll lose it, it won't work, you won't work, it is unworkable and you are very, very desperate. At the same time, you want to stay in this place of desperation ... at the same time, you're saying to yourself, you're almost there, you're almost there, you can't possibly lose it now, keep on, keep on a bit longer, you are nearly there, I know it, don't give up, you cannot lose it. Then suddenly you're there," Kay narrates.

King Charles appeared unhappy as he listened to the memories being recounted by Kay and King Afa. His expression turned to a glare as he addressed Kay with a mean tone. "I understand your predicament, but you must choose between me and King Afa. So, who will it be?"