Morgan had a soft heart for a beautiful woman. His wife knew that. It was really the cause of all his problems.
“I can,” he said carefully, “but I don’t think anyone will like my solution.”
To Be Continued
Book 6
Chapter Twenty Three
Morgan stepped through the mirror from his laboratory and into the king’s private bedchamber. He had taken the extra step to make sure King Hievard hadn’t hung his mirror on the ceiling of his bedchamber. He hadn’t and Morgan didn’t suffer the indignity of falling into a bed occupied by two copulating people.
As it was his caution was unnecessary. The king was well and truly distracted.
“You like that, you slutty whore?” he was asking his bedpartner.
Morgan was relieved to see that the woman currently being fucked by the king was indeed his wife. His current wife. His second wife. Queen Listrada.
As befitting a man of his station, Hievard’s wife was much, much young than he. The king was well into his sixth decade but his wife had not yet seen thirty summers. The king was showing his age with a paunchy belly and gray chest hair. He was panting heavily from fucking his wife and Morgan didn’t think it was from enjoyment. It was from over-exertion. For just a moment Morgan thought that maybe his current problem would be shortly solved. If the king had a heart attack, there was no claimant to the role of queen.
The king was fucking his wife from behind, in the classic position. It made Morgan wonder if anyone in the city or the kingdom knew how to fuck face-to-face. He resolved in that moment to be intimate with his wife in that manner when that very night even if she was still wearing the body of an ogress.
The look on Queen Listrada’s face was hardly that of ecstasy. It was somewhere between pain and boredom. It made Morgan ponder if the queen didn’t enjoy sex or of Hievard was just terrible at it. And then he noticed that something was wrong with the alignment of their bodies.
“Uh-huh,” was Listrada’s reply. Maybe sex was something she endured with the king because of a political marriage. “Give me your big cock.” Her voice was definitely that of a woman bored. She bit her bottom lip in a look of concentration as if trying to ignore pain.
Morgan felt sorry for her, but not sorry enough to actually do something about it.
“I’m giving it to you, you fucking slut! Does your mother know you like to suck my cock before I shove it up your ass?”
“You’d like to fuck her, wouldn’t you?”
Morgan listened to the exchange; it revealed a lot. Apparently King Hievard was fucking his wife in the ass at the moment. That explained the misalignment of their bodies. Morgan was uncertain if the queen actually disliked taking the king’s member into her ass, but it was more revealing that Listrada taunted her husband with a reference to her mother. Upon a moment’s reflection Morgan realized that Listrada’s mother was more likely much closer in age to Hievard than Listrada who could literally be Hievard’s daughter, at least in age. Or maybe Hievard got off on that sort of thing. Apparently he believed watching an ogre sexually violate an elf was appropriate entertainment for the nobility.
“Her cunt is tighter than yours, you cheap whore!” Hievard replied.
The vulgar repartee between the two seemed to pique Listrada’s interest in the vulgar act she was committing.
“You wouldn’t know, you haven’t fucked my cunt in months,” she complained. Morgan saw her hand dive down between her legs and start rubbing, obviously playing with her clit.
“You like it in the ass, don’t you, whore?”
“Uh-huh,” said Listrada, her voice and eyes unfocused now.
Morgan realized he had been watching too long. He could either interrupt now or retreat back the way he came. He had not interest in seeing King Hievard finish his anal abuse of his wife so the wizard took two bold steps forward from the mirror and charmed a minor thunderclap out of nowhere, enough to startle the two lovebirds.
“King Hievard, we must talk!” Morgan declared boldly.
Listrada screamed with surprised at the interruption. For some reason she clutched the sheets of the bed to her chest, which barely covered her tits, but kept her ass on display to Morgan. Hievard was at his moment of crisis and when Listrada screamed she also jumped, dislodging his cock just as he began pumping out jism. The thick ropes of royal seed arced through the air and landed with a splat on Listrada’s back. She rolled over, smearing the spunk over the expensive silk sheets. Hievard produced a few more drops of cum, which landed pathetically on her thigh.
Taking the initiative, Listrada wiped up the droplets and applied them to her cunt. “Hie! You promised you’d cum in my cunt!” She swatted him with her free hand and appeared to be frigging herself with her cum-covered fingers.
The king was rightly offended. “I didn’t expect a fucking wizard to interrupt us!” he cried at her, taking quick control of the situation. He might be a pervert approaching his sunset years, but he still had his wits around him and was able to evaluate the situation. “What in the name of the Ancient Seven are you doing here, wizard,” he demanded, covering the royal cock with the sheets, pulling them off Listrada, treating Morgan to a view of the queen’s impressive tits. He tried not to let himself get distracted.
“Are you aware of the problem with your wife?” asked Morgan, summoning the voice of authority that seemed second nature to the wizard. He glanced over Listrada’s tits a second time. “With your first wife?”
The king sighed and eased himself back onto the pillows piled against the bed’s headboard. “Yes. The wench is alive again somehow.” He glanced at his current wife. “That’s why I need to get this one with child.”
“You failed at that again, Hie!” Listrada complained. Morgan was not without sympathy for her.
Hievard didn’t take her retort lightly. “I didn’t expect to get interrupted! And your screaming didn’t help either!”
“Perhaps I should give you a moment?” Morgan asked. He was amused but he kept his tone neutral.
The king shoved his wife aside and turned his body to put his feet on the floor. For an older man he was still in fairly good shape. His torso was muscular even though he had a bit of a gut. Morgan looked away, not wanting to see the royal cock while the king wasn’t fully engaged in the marital act,
He pulled on a robe that was crumpled on the floor, hiding his nudity, and regarded Morgan with a steely gaze. “I’ve got woman problems,” he said to Morgan.
“You have me,” Listrada interrupted from the tangle of sheets she was caught in. “You don’t need her.”
Hievard glanced her way and sighed. Before he could speak, Morgan spoke up.
“I know. It appears the royal family is putting the city into some…disarray.”
Hievard regarded Morgan under his heavy brows. “So you’ve been speaking with my first wife.”
Morgan inclined his head. “Yes. And I’m reluctant to admit that I might be part of the problem. I roused her from her deathless slumber because…well, her deathless slumber was coming to an end and I couldn’t, in good conscience, let her die alone in her tomb.”
Listrada made an annoyed tone. “Humph! She was already buried. You should have let her stay dead.”
Hievard glowered. “Leave,” he barked at her. “Men are talking and I don’t need your advice,” he said.
When the beautiful young woman started to speak, Hievard raised his voice and put an edge in it that promised a real threat. “I said leave.”
The queen dropped the sheets that were covering her nudity and marched out of the bedroom, not caring who saw her naked body. The king and Morgan both watched her leave until she slammed the heavy door behind her. There was a yelp from the hallway. One of the guards at the king’s door wasn’t expecting to see the naked queen parade through the palace.
“I love to see her go,” Hievard said, the grin not diminished at all on his face. “I see you enjoyed the show too.”
“My apologi
es, my king,” said Morgan in a shameful tone.
“Bah! Think nothing of it. The girl loves to strut around naked, doesn’t care who sees her. I think she likes people to see her. Shameless hussy. Great tits, though, eh? I married her for the political match, you know. Married my first wife because I was stupidly in love with her.” He sighed.
“I still am.”
“Which brings us to the crux of the problem. You can’t have two wives.”
“I don’t want two wives,” Hievard commiserated. “I don’t blame you for bringing back Andromache. I’d often wondered what my life would be like if she were still around and now…well, now that she’s around every noble family is re-evaluating their position and alliances. You’d think having two living wives would be great. It’s not. I bet it wouldn’t be great even if they liked each other.”
“They don’t get along?” Morgan inquired.
“Once we figured out what you did and that Andromache was alive and well…well lots of things happened. The two women started arguing and their two families started arguing, and now…”
“Apparently Listrada has forgiven you.”
“Nope,” said Hievard and headed across the room to a table where he uncorked a bottle of wine and poured himself a glass. Glancing at the wizard he gestured with a second glass. Morgan nodded and Hievard poured the rest of the bottle. The second glass was only half full. Morgan didn’t blame the man for drinking heavily. “She wants a kid. Her family wants a kid. A second child would be nice but I’m not stupid. Soon as Listrada pops out a brat, two noble families go to war for control of the city.”
“Unintended consequences, my king,” said Morgan regretfully.
The king was a man of understanding. “I’ll be dead so it won’t matter to me who takes over but Blywood is a good kid. My only kid. Right now. He’d be a good king. But I can’t have the families going to war.”
“I will find a solution for you,” Morgan promised.
Hievard regarded him a moment and then burst out laughing. “You and every other advisor I have. But they all have their own agendas so—” He stopped himself short. “Except you. You don’t have an agenda, do you?”
“Just the safety of the city.”
“Well then come up with a fucking solution to my problem then. Hopefully one that doesn’t involve the murder of one or both my wives?”
Chapter Twenty Four
Morgan stepped through the mirrors and found himself back in his bedroom. He knew he should have walked into his laboratory, but he couldn’t resist. He had left his wife alone with an over-sexed ogre and an over-sexed elf. Plus, his wife was also a literal ogre this day, the result of her curse to shape change every night into a new body. Technically she was an ogress, but that was beside the point.
The point was he was missing out of fucking his wife (as an ogress) and an elf (the ogre’s lover) while he was fixing problems the elf had made thirty years earlier.
Being a man of broad sexual tastes, Morgan was eager to fuck his wife as an ogress, either with or without an audience, He didn’t care what scene he happened upon in his bedroom. He’d join in and put his cock to good use wherever it fit.
His bedroom was empty.
“Well that’s a fine greeting for a conquering hero,” he muttered to himself, ignoring the fact that he hadn’t conquered anything.
He closed his eyes and concentrated a moment, tapping into the magical energy flow that filled the tower. Most of the current occupants were in the formal dining room. That was…unusual.
There was no fanfare when Morgan burst into the dining room. There didn’t need to be, but there should have been. He was the wizard of the tower and the city. In the back of his mind he had been hoping he would happen across a debauched orgy. Instead he found everyone in the midst of a casual meal. Even Cookie was sitting down at the table, beaming happily, accepting the praise for her cooking.
All eyes turned to Morgan when he threw open the door. He quickly went around the room. Lili, his half-orc bodyguard; Knut, his dwarven bodyguard and retainer; Cookie, his cook; Willard, the groundskeeper and handyman (who was constantly at odds with Cookie, which made them sitting next to each other all the stranger); Queen Andromache sat at the head of the table; next to her was his wife, Cassandra, currently in ogress form; Lyhorn, the ogre and elf lover; and finally Meira Yinfir, elf and ogre lover.
“What in the name of the eleven Dead Gods is going on here!” Morgan demanded.
“Noon repast, boss,” said Lili, not in any way intimidated by the wizard. Everyone else remained silent. Morgan’s eyes went to Cassandra. His wife looked at him with amusement as she chewed the food in her mouth. His eyes then went to the table. This was no common lunchtime meal. Spread out on the broad maple surface were a variety of tarts and muffins and treats that the sugar they contained practically pushed out the perpetually greasy feel of the tower’s air.
“Why?” he asked.
“I was hungry,” said Queen Andromache calmly, primly finishing her bite of food and swallowing before dabbing at the corners of her mouth with a napkin. “Actually, I was famished. I’d been dead for thirty years and the food they offered me at the palace was…not up to the standards of your darling Cookie.”
Cookie beamed and giggled. “She flatters me, boss. This was just something I whipped up to make her happy.”
Morgan grunted and sat down at the table’s foot, grabbed an apple turnover and a blueberry muffin from the platters, and sighed. “We have a problem.”
The food disappeared quickly along with most of the diners. Queen Andromache sighed after listening to Morgan’s assessment of the situation asked what she was to do.
“I have a few ideas, but I don’t know if you or your family or the king or Queen Listrada will be happy with any of them.”
“Don’t call her that!” Andromache barked at him.
Morgan looked at the semi-deposed queen blandly. “You hate her.”
“With good reason, don’t you think? She stole my husband.”
“In all deference to you, Hievard thought you were dead. So did I. So did your family and the entire kingdom.”
Andromache looked down at her hand that was tightly gripping the mug of café she had been drinking. Her fingers were white with anger, not death. “He married her because she’s young and beautiful…like I had been.”
“Like you still are,” said Cassandra, the only other person still in the room. “You’re very beautiful.”
“My wife is right, in years you might be Hievard’s equal, but in beauty, you still more than rival Listrada.”
“Am I?” asked Andromache sarcastically.
“I got a good look at her today,” said Morgan. “I’m positive. And if it means anything to you, he admitted to me he was still in love with you.”
With a grimace Andromache put down her mug. “I shouldn’t be so angry. It was a political marriage to her, or so says my family. They also say she’s not the brightest candle in the chandelier.”
“That’s true enough,” said Morgan. “Based on my short conversation with her.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” she replied. “I suppose. Do you know that I had my pick of men before I married Hievard?”
“Do tell,” Cassandra said quickly. “I love knowing the secret details of royalty.”
Andromache laughed. “My family was happy to marry off. They were certain I was going to become the mistress and lover of half the nobility.”
Cassandra laughed loudly while Morgan blushed. He didn’t need to know these details.
Emboldened by Cassandra’s reaction, Andromache continued. “I’ll admit it. I wasn’t a virgin when I married Hievard.”
“What good woman is?” Cassandra asked. Morgan chuckled to himself while the women laughed louder. “That’s the only way you can keep your husband happy.”
“Hievard can never know what a slut I was,” Andromache confided. “I have a reputation to maintain.” She smiled broadly. “I also h
ave one to hide.”
The women laughed again.
“I probably shouldn’t be listening to this,” muttered Morgan softly. “Plausible deniability and all.”
“What was that, dear?” asked Cassandra.
“Nothing. But I’m going to mention that I truly believe Hievard loved and still loves you. After all, he resisted remarrying for twenty five years before he tied the knot with Listrada.”
“That’s something,” Andromache admitted. “I never would have waited that long. My lust drive is just too strong.”
Cassandra raised her heavy eyebrows at her husband. Morgan slowly shook his head back and forth but she ignored him. “Men don’t understand women’s physical needs,” commiserated Cassandra.
“I once dallied with an elf,” Andromache confessed. “I suppose back then that was almost acceptable. I’ve never fucked any other race, though.” She looked meaningfully at Morgan and then at Cassandra. “Or an ogre. Or a wizard.”
Andromache cried out loudly as if she hadn’t been fucked for thirty years, which Morgan reflected was undoubtedly the truth. Cassandra raised her head from between Andromache’s thighs. Her lips, chin, and cheeks were smeared with the other woman’s juices.
“You said you were a slut,” said Cassandra with a smug look on her face. “How many of your lovers before Hievard were women?”
The queen shoved Cassandra’s broad face back down to her cunt. “Only five. I was a good girl.” She reached out and grabbed hold of Morgan’s cock. It was already erect. “Can I suck you?” she all but begged. “It’s been too long since I’ve had a man in any way.”
Morgan regretfully thought he wasn’t going to get to fuck his ogress wife at all before she changed, but how many chances would he have to fuck the city’s queen? He nodded. “It would be my honor and delight,” he said as she turned her head and all but swallowed the bulk of his length.
She might have last had sex thirty years prior, but Andromache hadn’t forgotten a single bed-learned skill in those years. Morgan was on his knees on the bed with her propped up by a pile of pillows. Even though she had to turn her head to suck his cock, Andromache proved she was an expert in the art of fellatio. While a blowjob from the city’s (former?) queen was more than enough to satisfy Morgan, that wasn’t enough for Andromache.
The Elliot Silvestri Erotic Reader Volume 6 Page 100
