Pleasing Her Majesty (Lesbian FFF Threesome Fisting): Part Nine of the Erotic Adventures of Heraklea

by Roxie Noir

  The queen was also topless, wearing the same belt-and-fabric combination as her spear-woman. She had light brown hair with no hint of gray, and only a few fine lines around her eyes belied her age.

  “You have the icon?” she said smoothly. She crossed her legs, right over left, and the strip of fabric hanging from her belt fluttered. Klea could see the crease where her thigh met her pelvis, that crinkle of soft skin.

  “Here it is, your majesty,” Klea said, holding it out and curtsying.

  Please don’t let this be a joke the king is playing on me, she thought.

  “Ah, yes,” the queen said. She took the icon and held it in both hands, in front of her face, turning it this way and that. “An ancient symbol of all my people have lost.”

  Something in the way she said that made Klea suspicious that she was being made fun of. The queen put the icon down on the side table and exchanged a look with the spear-woman.

  “I know you’re foreign to our lands,” the woman said. “But here, it’s impolite to wear more clothing than the queen.”

  Klea looked at Phoebe’s face and then her breasts, and then the queen’s, not exactly sure what to do. Did that mean strip, or leave?

  “Here,” Phoebe said. She stepped forward and took one of the ties of Klea’s dress in her hands. “Let me help you.”

  Her fingers were warm and soft on the tie at Klea’s shoulder and she caressed the girl as the strings came loose, brushing her hair off of her neck, her breath warm and close on her now-bare shoulder. Deftly, she moved to the other shoulder, untying that as well but holding it in one hand as she brushed Klea’s hair back. Still holding her dress up so it covered Klea’s breasts, she looked the queen in the eyes, lowered her head to the girl’s neck and pushed her lips against it softly, leaving a trail of kisses down to Klea’s shoulder.

  I thought I was supposed to be seducing them, Klea thought, but she closed her eyes and let the soft caresses swirl along her skin.

  Only then did Phoebe let Klea’s dress fall to her waist, where it was cinched by her belt, exposing her breasts to the queen as Phoebe looked over her shoulder. The queen settled back a little in her chair, a smile playing around her eyes, as she looked at Klea hungrily.

  Phoebe slipped her hands around Klea’s waist and moved her fingers up, rippling them over the swell of her breasts, running them one at a time over Klea’s nipples, still standing behind the girl. Every so often she bent her head to the girl’s shoulder, softly kissing and licking the sensitive skin there. With each hand, she began to draw circles around Klea’s nipples and Klea felt them come to attention quickly, hardening with the attention.

  “I think she’ll do,” Phoebe said to the queen.

  “I think she will,” said the queen. Then the gestured for Klea to come closer, and when Klea was in front of her chair, for Klea to bend over.

  The queen took one of her nipples in her fingers and rolled it, then took her jaw gently in one hand, and pressed her mouth to the girl’s, her tongue exploring Klea’s mouth deeply, stroking the girl’s tongue, leaving Klea breathless when she pulled away.

  Klea felt dazed, unfocused, not entirely sure how to respond, but as if of their own accord, her hands were reaching for those magnificent breasts. With both thumbs she touched the sensitive skin at the crease along the bottom, then explored upward, over the swell until she reached the other woman’s nipples.

  A hand with a grip like iron closed over her hip, and Phoebe leaned forward, over her shoulder. The queen kissed her deeply, their combined faces inches from her own, Phoebe’s sure hands on her breasts again. As the two older women kissed, suddenly Klea felt her belt and dress fall away, to the floor, leaving her totally naked in the middle of the two. A hand slid up her thigh, from her knee to the crease just between her thigh and pelvis, and she shuddered involuntarily.

  Another hand traveled down her stomach, trailing past her bellybutton, tracing down her mound and stopping just shy of her clitoris.

  Despite herself, against what were probably all the rules of decorum, Klea let out a tiny moan.

  “You’ve been with a woman before,” the queen said.

  Flushed and beginning to feel a familiar ache in her loins, Klea nodded.

  “I told you so,” Phoebe said behind her.

  “More than once?” the queen asked. Sharply, she pinched one nipple.

  Klea gasped, and nodded again. The fingers at her crotch ran lightly over her swollen lips, and then left.

  “Good,” the queen said, and then smiled.

  She took Klea’s head in one hand and then the other and pushed downward, at the same time splaying her knees far apart.

  Klea could smell the hot musk of the queen’s arousal, a scent that turned her on even more. The queen’s hands still on her head, she sank to her knees in front of the older woman’s cunt, both hands on the inside of her thighs, the flower of the queen’s cunt open before her.

  Carefully, with her tongue, she traced the very outlines of the queen’s lips, swollen with desire, tasting the musky perfume that was on them. The queen made a deep groan, a noise of approval, and Klea did it again, this time licking upward to end on her clit.

  The queen groaned again. Klea flicked her tongue out, lightly touching her clitoris once, feeling the queen’s muscles jolt at the light touch, and so she traced her tongue back down the slick folds, plunging her tongue into the queen’s entrance and feeling the thick, strong muscle there before darting out to lap at her clitoris again, closing her lips around it and suckling, gently, swishing it back and forth with her tongue.

  Hearing the noises the queen was making, low moans of pleasure, little gasps every time Klea’s tongue traversed her clitoris again, she probed harder, dragging her tongue down to her entrance, tasting her juices, plunging her tongue in and out again and returning, always, to lavish ever more attention on the queen’s clitoris.

  The hand on her head tightened in her hair, pressing Klea’s face into her harder, the close-cropped hair on the queen’s cunt tickling at Klea’s face.

  She opened her eyes briefly when she felt a weight settle onto the couch, tilting the queen ever so slightly to one side, and saw that it was Phoebe, legs akimbo, one on the floor and one flung over the back of the couch. She had both hands on her own breasts, and the queen’s fingers were deep in her cunt, her thumb on the other woman’s clit.

  Suddenly Phoebe arched her back and cried out. “That’s it, baby,” she said. “Oh god, that’s the spot. Right there. Don’t stop, baby.”

  She panted and moaned, and as Klea watched, still licking the queen, face firmly buried in her cunt, Phoebe came with a long keening wail, tremors moving through her body again and again, until finally, she was still. Even then, the queen kept her fingers inside the other woman, moving her attention again to Klea’s mouth.

  Inspired, Klea put two fingers inside the queen’s opening, now lapping and sucking furiously at her clitoris, face pressed hard against the other woman. The queen moaned as she moved her fingers, crooking them upwards, harder and harder, until the queen began jerking with a long, low moan. Klea felt the muscles in her pussy contract around her fingers, hard, almost to the point of pain.

  When the queen released her head and she moved it back, still kneeling on the floor, the queen pulled her fingers out of Phoebe’s cunt and brought them over to her own face, smelling deeply. Then she put the hand in front of Klea.

  “Would you like to taste her?” she asked. Klea was already bursting with arousal, her cunt feeling that full, swollen feeling, and smelling Phoebe on the queen’s fingers only made it worse. Obediently, hoping she’d have a chance to get off, she licked the queen’s hand slowly, going one finger at a time, enveloping each with her mouth and sucking. Both women watched her, seemingly fascinated. When she was done, they exchanged a glance, the queen still sitting on the couch, Klea kneeling in front of her, Phoebe splayed wide, pussy on display to both.

  As they watched, Phoebe reached down and found
her own clit, then began masturbating. The queen smiled.

  “You still want more?” she said.

  “I always want more,” said Phoebe.

  “You’re a monster,” the queen said, teasingly.

  “You love it.”

  The queen moved on the couch, climbing onto her hands and knees in front of the other woman, then spreading her cunt with one hand, bending her head, and beginning to softly lick with practiced strokes. Right away, Phoebe began moaning.

  “You know how to lick me right,” Phoebe said, head back and eyes closed. “Oh, baby, you have the best tongue,” she said, and squeezed the plush couch in both fists.

  The queen licked and licked steadily, alternating strokes. Klea watched carefully: she’d go fast, and then slow, hard, and then soft, all as Phoebe’s moans and wails mounted, reminding Klea of her own throbbing need, still unsatisfied.

  “I’m coming,” Phoebe said. “Lick me until I come. Just like that.” She broke off with a shout as her body jerked again, the queen holding her by the thighs and licking steadily under the tremors subsided, and then slowly sitting up.

  Phoebe turned her head to one side. “Do you like watching?” she asked Klea.

  Klea could feel her own cunt practically gushing, desire pounding through her. “I’d like participating more,” she said.

  The two older women smiled.

  “Hey baby,” said Phoebe, still on her back, to the queen. “Fist me.”

  The queen, kneeling between Phoebe’s legs, stroked her cunt gently, sending tremors through the other woman. “You’re ready?” she asked.

  “You know I’m always ready,” Phoebe said.

  The queen reached for a bottle of olive oil sitting on the side table. “She’s unstoppable,” she said to Klea, who was still kneeling on the floor. “And she likes showing off.” She poured the olive oil onto her hand, then plunged a few fingers into the other woman, smearing it around her channel as well. Phoebe arched her hips to give the queen the best possible entrance.

  “Come sit on my face,” Phoebe said. “You can watch and I can multi-task.”

  Klea did as she was told, climbing onto the couch and lowering her aching cunt over Phoebe’s ready mouth, and the other woman immediately began licking furiously, her tongue covering everything from front to back, plunging in and out of her entrance, circling around her clit. Klea was already so turned on that it didn’t take very much to bring her close to orgasm, and she clutched the couch in one hand, gasping and moaning, only for Phoebe’s tongue to suddenly slow to gentle licking.

  Surprised, Klea opened her eyes and looked at the queen.

  “You’re in for a treat,” the queen said.

  She had three fingers buried in Phoebe, up the the knuckle, working them back and forth in the other woman’s cunt, the thumb of her other hand planted on her clitoris, rubbing and rubbing in gentle circles. As Klea watched, her own cunt humming in tune to Phoebe’s tongue, the queen added a fourth finger and plunged it in up to the knuckle as well.

  Phoebe moaned right into Klea’s clitoris, the sound vibrating the girl and making her gasp with pleasure. She was right on the edge again, feeling like she was on a cliff, just about to fall down into her orgasm, when Phoebe stopped again. Klea growled with frustration, and the queen smiled at her.

  Then, Phoebe’s soft, gentle licks still strumming through her, Klea watched the queen slowly put the rest of her hand into the other woman’s cunt. She moved slowly but surely, and first her knuckles disappeared, then her palm, then her thumb tucked against it until Phoebe’s lips were at her wrist and Phoebe herself was writhing with delight.

  “You like having my whole hand in you?” the queen asked, softly.

  “I love it,” Phoebe moaned. “Make me come again.”

  The queen moved her wrist the tiniest bit, at least that Klea could see, and Phoebe arched her back again and shouted.

  “Harder!” she said, and the queen moved again, just a little more this time.

  “You’re gonna make me squirt,” Phoebe moaned. “I’m gonna come all over you.”

  The queen didn’t say anything, but moved her fist again, one last time, and Phoebe’s body jerked beneath Klea. Then she saw a thing liquid gush out of the woman, covering the queen’s hand, soaking her thighs and knees where she was on the couch.

  Klea gasped. She’d never seen a woman squirt before.

  Phoebe was still coming, the liquid still gushing out of her, her whole body moving in contractions, the queen’s fist still buried deep inside. She’d stopped licking Klea, but now the girl was fingering herself, furiously rubbing her button, desperate for release.

  With a slick, sticky sound, the queen pulled her hand out of Phoebe, then wiped it on the other woman’s stomach. Then she reached for Klea’s hand and pulled it away from her, stopping her from masturbating.

  “Please, I just want to come,” Klea said, desperation tingeing her words.

  “Lick me off again,” the queen said, lying back in the wet spot on the couch.

  Klea knelt, still straddling Phoebe, the smell of cunt and sex heavy in the air, and spread the queen’s thighs. Maybe after this, she thought, she’d finally get to come. She buried her face in the other woman’s loins, flicking her tired tongue back and forth over the clitoris.

  Then, suddenly, she felt something on her own cunt: fingers inside, probing, pressing down. They plunged and and out, relentlessly squeezing, as they were joined by a thumb on her clitoris. Klea exhaled hard into the queen’s cunt, making the other woman gasp. She felt hands on her head again as her face was pressed hard into her.

  “God, you’re wet,” Phoebe said from behind her. “You’re gonna come so hard.”

  “She’s filthy,” the queen said, writhing around in front of Klea. “Absolutely filthy. I love it.”

  Klea said nothing, but lapped furiously at the queen, all sense of artistry gone as she licked and sucked, planting her lips around the queen’s clit, flicking it furiously with her tongue.

  It felt as though Phoebe, three fingers now in Klea’s cunt, were pulling at her, furiously twisting her hand inside her slick channel as though she were trying to rub her clit from the inside. A strange sensation was building inside Klea, deep down and fuzzy, a pleasure she’d never felt before.

  She redoubled her efforts on the queen, licking and sucking, and in another moment she was rewarded when the queen jerked her hands, holding Klea’s head, against her, pulling her face hard into the woman’s cunt as the queen bucked and moaned. Klea could feel her channel spasming again, the muscles contracting again and again.

  As the queen’s orgasm died down, Klea suddenly felt a strange pleasure begin in her own cunt, and she gasped.

  “You like that, huh?” asked Phoebe.

  “Don’t stop,” Klea said, over her shoulder, the queen lying in front of her, spent.

  “You’re gonna come so hard,” Phoebe said, her fingers working furiously at Klea’s vagina. “You’ve never squirted before?”

  “No,” said Klea, eyes shut against the strange pleasure, trying not to collapse onto Phoebe, who she was straddling. “Make me squirt.”

  Suddenly, she felt as though a dam had burst deep within her as she came, the pleasure washing over her as something gushed out of her, soaking her thighs and Phoebe all at once. Klea cried out in pleasure, burying her head in her arms stop the pile of women, moving her hips back and forth as wave after wave passed through her, a deep pleasure she’d never known before. Finally, spent, she collapsed onto the other two women.

  After a few minutes, she felt a playful slap on her ass.

  “Move,” Phoebe said.

  Klea rolled off of the couch and onto the bearskin rug on the floor. She was covered in sticky fluids: her own, the queen’s, Phoebe’s. Slowly, the other two women stood and walked to a basin full of water, where they started wiping themselves off with cloths. Klea sat up on the warm rug, the bear skin and the fire making her sleepy.

  “W
hat should we do with the stone dick?” she heard Phoebe say.

  “Put it in the closet with the others,” the queen said.

  “Why do they always think we want dicks?” Phoebe asked.

  “They’re men,” the queen responded.

  “At least they sent her.”

  Klea wobbled to her feet and joined the two women, washing herself off before returning to her quarters.

  The next morning, there was a knock on the door and a young Amazon maiden stood there, holding a wooden box. She curtsied.

  “The queen sent this for you,” she said. “And requests your presence at breakfast.”

  Klea took it, and when the girl left, opened it. Inside was the golden belt the queen had worn the night before. For a moment she felt victorious—she’d gotten the belt!—but then she remembered what it was for: some other women. She frowned and closed the box again, then went to a very nice breakfast.

  A week later, back on Rhodes, Klea walked up to the king’s quarters and handed the box to a guard.

  “It’s the belt,” she said.

  “What belt, my lady?” he asked.

  “He’ll know,” she said.

  “You don’t want to give it to him personally?”

  “I don’t want to see him,” she said. She walked back to her bedchamber in a dark mood.

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  The Erotic Adventures of Heraklea is a gender-swapped retelling of the Hercules myth. It's got dirty sex, nasty monsters, and a very horny protagonist — and the whole thing is FREE on Kindle Unlimited!

  Prelude: Olympian Pleasure (First Time)

  Part One: Bruises in the Morning (Rough Shifter Sex)

  Part Two: Legend of the Hydra (An FMF Monster Threesome)

  Part Three: Bound and Blind (BDSM)