Under Distan Moons

by Mara Kelly

  You see, she knew what I liked as well as I knew what she liked.

  My hand had gone still on the girl's breast. Iolanta said something softly to the girl in Sachary, and she reached up and lifted my tunic over my head. She began to unlace my breeches, but I was thoroughly distracted by the sight of Iolanta now lying on the bed, her golden-brown skin glimmering in the firelight, set off sharply against the pale skin of the girl who moved on top of her. I saw the place between the queen's legs, exquisitely smooth and hairless, for just a moment before Iolanta grabbed the girl's hair and dragged her down for her pleasure.

  The girl before me knelt and took me in her mouth, and I nearly cried out at the sensation. Iolanta had never once done this for me in all our years together, though I had known the warm, skillful mouths of many other girls in that time, and I had more than once found my face pressed between the queen's legs.

  This girl was especially skilled in the art—or perhaps it was the burning, heavy-lidded gaze of the queen that deepened the sensation. The girl's tongue moved over the length of me, and I imagined Iolanta performing such actions, kneeling before me as she knelt before no one.

  I couldn't take my eyes off of Iolanta where she lay on the bed, pressing the other girl's face between her thighs. She moaned and writhed, and her gaze did not leave mine. It was as if we were joined by these two girls, so alike they might have been the same.

  I began to feel less annoyed toward Iolanta—surely she did care about my pleasure after all. I threaded my fingers through the girl's hair and moaned my pleasure, but I forced my eyes to stay open. I was coming close to my climax now, and I wanted Iolanta to see it.

  Suddenly Iolanta said something sharply in Sachary, and the girl before me stood and went to the bed. I was left cold and panting, and I looked reproachfully at Iolanta.

  "Patience, darling," she said with a maddening smile, as she drew the other girl down to her breasts. I stood there, my member still hard and growing harder, as I watched the two girls pleasure the queen to the heights. My hand strayed to touch myself, but I saw Iolanta's smile widen and stopped myself. Damn her, I thought. She thinks she knows everything.

  Iolanta climaxed with a triumphant cry, pressing the two girls to her as she convulsed in her delight. At last she released them and lay back, flushed and sweaty.

  I wanted her more than ever. I kicked off my trousers and shoes and went toward the bed, but Iolanta held up a hand. She turned and drew one of the girls down on top of her, kissing her deep on the mouth. I realized it was the one who had been pleasuring me earlier, and I wondered if Iolanta could taste me on her. The thought made me grow even harder.

  The other girl climbed on top of her sister, and that's when I understood what they were doing—there they were, all piled atop one another, with their legs spread wide and their flesh open to me. I hesitated for a moment, and Iolanta pulled her lips free from the girl's and looked at me. "Does this please you, darling?"

  To this day I do not know if I responded with anything more than a grunt, but I do know that it was only seconds before I was on the bed between their legs. I entered the top girl first, then withdrew and fucked the girl in the middle, and last I entered the queen, hardest of all. Their skin melded in the firelight, all shadows and movement, and I could not distinguish the heavy breathing or soft sighs of one from the other. Again and again I went down the line, fucking them in turn. Commoner, commoner, queen, commoner, queen…the prick knows no difference.

  Time swirled around me…there was nothing but flesh and flesh and flesh, and the wanton knowledge of the secret places of women.

  I came inside the middle girl, and I gripped the hips of her twin atop her, driving myself within her as my seed spilled out.

  I thrust the last of my pleasure into her, then removed myself and stood, watching as the three women untangled themselves from each other, white flesh separating from golden brown once more. The sight of Iolanta, grinning like a cat, greeted me as the two girls took up positions on either side of the bed, and I felt myself grow hard again, against my will. Iolanta always had that power over me.

  She knew it too. She reached up and touched the leg of the girl to her right, stroking the place where my juices ran down her thighs. I glanced at the twin, wondering what she thought of seeing her sister so. Most likely these two had been street orphans, taken in by Lady Kelai at a young age and trained to this art. Such was the story of most in their profession. They, I suppose, were lucky to have been taken in by one of the most renowned whoremistresses in the mountain countries.

  Iolanta must have seen me gazing at the other girl, for she too turned her attention on her. She said something softly in Sachary—her voice sounded almost loving and gentle, for her. The girl nodded obediently and climbed up onto the bed as Iolanta moved over. The other girl went to the table by the bedside and poured two glasses of wine. She offered one to Iolanta, who took it and drained it. Then she came and knelt before me, offering the other glass. I took it and drank slowly, enjoying the view of her heaving breasts that her kneeling position offered me. Her garment lay in disarray about her waist, the top still down from when I had removed it earlier.

  "Mynon," said Iolanta. I looked up to find that she had bound the girl on the bed, hand and foot, to the four posters. I had not seen the thin chains and padded cuffs earlier, but I suppose places like that have ways of hiding such necessities among the fine furnishings. I handed the glass back to the girl at my feet without a glance—my eyes were once again firmly on Iolanta, who knelt above the bound girl, her breasts bouncing softly in the firelight. Her upswept curls had come loose in the evening's frolic, and lay in disarray around her neck, and her face was flushed and beautiful. The girl lay passive beneath her, like a mouse frozen with the knowledge that a mighty bird of prey swoops overhead. The girl's gauzy costume, like her sister's, was hitched up around her waist, but the straps that were meant to cover her breasts still lay across her shoulders. Her garment had been tousled enough, however, that her breasts lay bare beside the gauzy fabric, and the gauze moved with her heavy breathing. She, too, had her eyes locked on the queen.

  Iolanta moved her hands over the girl's body, and found the loose end of the gauze. Slowly she unraveled it, and the gown was revealed as a single piece of fabric, endlessly looped and tied around the slim figure. The girl gasped as Iolanta deliberately let the loose end of the gauze trail over her breasts and between her legs.

  Watching her thus, I could not help remembering our early days together, when Iolanta had been adventurous and bold with me. How often had I found myself tied between the satin posts of her bed, subject to her sweet tortures? And, in those days, she had even allowed me to do the same to her. It had been a long time since the Queen of Alareda had been subject to my desires.

  Iolanta gave one last tug, and the girl was completely naked. My prick swelled painfully at the sight of her beauty, laid out and chained on that bed. I longed to touch her, but I knew that Iolanta had most likely devised this as some new torture in which I was to watch her pleasure the girl herself.

  Iolanta let the tip of the gauze trail over the girl, running it from her face down between her legs, and looked at me. "What would you like to do to her, Mynon?"

  I didn't answer. I knew this was one of her games, and desire was coursing through me so strongly that I didn't dare utter a word.

  Iolanta placed her hands on her hips and glared at me commandingly. She had the gift of being able to look commanding even when completely naked with her hair askew. "I offer her to you as a gift, Mynon. Is she not your favorite kind?"

  I inhaled sharply. A gift...perhaps she was not playing after all. I saw the knowledge of my many affairs in her eyes, and also for the first time I saw her pain at this knowledge. The fact that she had slept with any man she chose for the whole of our marriage mattered to her not at all, I knew, nor could she fathom that it would matter to me. And yet she felt pain that I would share my bed with other women.

  The
realization ought to have infuriated me, or at least annoyed me. But, as I suspect you understand well, Celine, those in our position have no right to such emotions. Instead, I felt a thrill of joy. Iolanta was jealous. Which meant that she loved me, in the way of her kind. And she was offering me this gift, this evening, as an acknowledgement of that.

  Iolanta held out a hand to me. I took it and kissed it fervently. She smiled. "Come, Mynon," she said softly. "Let's make her writhe for us."

  Without taking her eyes off me, she let the gauze trail over the girl's body again. The girl shuddered and closed her eyes. Her twin knelt at the side of the bed, awaiting the queen's pleasure.

  And the queen, for once, awaited mine.

  "Take her," said Iolanta, "in the way that pleases you best."

  I moved my gaze to the girl, and pondered this. I could fuck her outright, but that was so common. I could turn her over and sodomize her, but that held little appeal for me that evening. I glanced again at Iolanta, and knew what I wanted.

  I climbed onto the bed and thrust my tongue between the girl's legs, tasting the essence of her. She gasped and wriggled her hips against me, and I moved my mouth over her center, stirring her longing.

  And then I climbed higher and knelt above her chest, pressing my manhood to her lips. She took me into her mouth eagerly, and I moaned my pleasure aloud for Iolanta to hear. The other girl had been skilled, but this girl was exquisite, moving and swirling her tongue against me, sucking until the whole of my prick was engulfed in her mouth. I planted my hands in the pillow above her and looked down at her, arms spread and bound, powerless to do anything but keep sucking me. I closed my eyes and imagined that the hair spread over the pillows was Iolanta's brown curls. I even thought I heard Iolanta's sigh behind me.

  I had. I opened my eyes and glanced over my shoulder, and saw Iolanta's breasts heaving as knelt between the bound girl's legs, holding a black rubber prick. I had no idea where it had come from, but I supposed such things were easily accessible in such a place. I watched as Iolanta plunged the rubber prick into the girl, and the girl writhed and bucked her hips. Iolanta lowered her face and licked the soft skin between the girl's legs, and she shuddered. I swelled, heady with the knowledge that Iolanta and I together were driving this young girl to the heights of pleasure. I reached behind me and cupped the girl's breasts softly, then pinched her nipples.

  The girl bucked wildly and climaxed, her moans muffled by my prick in her mouth. Iolanta's fingernails raked down my back. I was very nearly at my own climax, and part of me wanted to keep pumping into the girl's mouth, but my senses had been awakened now, and I wanted more elusive prey. I rolled off the girl, who was still shivering with pleasure, and motioned to her twin to release her. The other girl gently unshackled her and pulled her up; she looked around dazedly, spent in a sexual haze. Iolanta and I grinned at one another, knowing we had done this to her.

  Iolanta did not, apparently, recognize the gleeful planning in my grin, for she seemed surprised when I swept toward her and laid her flat on the bed. I had one shackle fastened around her wrist before she could even open her mouth to protest. I motioned to the girls to fasten the others, and they looked to Iolanta for instructions. "Do it," I said in a commanding tone, before Iolanta could respond, and I sealed my mouth over the queen's to prevent her from saying anything. She writhed under me in that kind of protest that isn't protest at all, and she was smiling when I raised myself up again.

  "Do you remember when we first met?" I asked her, taking the discarded gauze and trailing it over her stomach. "Your only audience then was your chambermaid."

  Iolanta closed her eyes and moved against the gauze. "She wasn't supposed to watch, but she always did, you know. That only made me want you more."

  I glanced at the two girls, who knelt once again by the bedside. Their presence spurred my desire as well. Let them see the Queen of Alareda, the new Queen of Sachary, as she truly was.

  On a sudden impulse, I motioned to the girls to suckle Iolanta's breasts. They moved onto the bed on either side of her, and each took one of her nipples. Iolanta moaned and swore, and I let my fingers trail over her stomach and down her legs.

  "Do you like that, Iolanta?" I asked.

  "Oh yes," she breathed.

  I lifted the gauze and trailed it between her legs again. "And that?"

  "Oh yes," she said with a shudder.

  I smiled and lowered myself onto the bed, so that I could lave her core with my tongue. She moaned and bucked her hips just as the whore had. I smiled as I recalled how I had been doing just this to her under the table in her chambers once when her husband had come in. Hidden by the long tablecloth, I had continued while she had spoken to him of exports. She'd managed to maintain a calm demeanor, and her first husband had been so oblivious he hadn't even realized that her coughing fit had covered her shattering orgasm. I adored taking her power in that way.

  It had been a long time since I had had the opportunity.

  Slowly, I let my tongue linger and circle around the bud of her womanhood, enjoying her mounting moans. My own desire was hard between my legs.

  I lapped against her until her thighs were drenched in her own juices, until her hips were grinding against my tongue, longing for something more. Then I rose to my knees and stroked my own hard member, looking down at her, pinned beneath the two girls, bound helplessly to the four corners of the bed. She still somehow looked powerful, even as she watched me, glassy-eyed, over the girls' heads.

  "Would you like me to fuck you now?" I asked in a measured voice.

  "Very much," she said breathlessly.

  "Good," I replied. I reached down to touch her drenched core once more, and nodded. Then I reached up and pushed the two girls away from Iolanta's breasts. "Stand aside and watch," I told them, though they understood me not at all. "Iolanta may be a queen, but she is only my whore tonight."

  The girls moved to stand at the sides of the bed, and I spared them not another thought. I planted my hands on the bed beside Iolanta's shoulders and lowered myself over her. Her eyes dropped shut in anticipation. I lowered my face and took one exquisite nipple in my mouth, and tasted the mixture of the girls and Iolanta and my own juices. I let my cock rest close to her golden entrance, and Iolanta squirmed beneath me, trying to bring me closer to her.

  I released her breast and moved my tongue up her breast and neck, breathing heavily in her ear. "Say you are a whore," I whispered.

  "I am a whore," she said at once.

  "Say you are my whore."

  "I am your whore. I am your whore," she said breathlessly, writhing and bucking her hips against my firm prick. "Oh, Mynon, please, please…"

  I grinned and nipped her ear, causing her to gasp. "Say you'll do anything for me."

  "Anything," she gasped. "Oh, Mynon, please…"

  I pushed myself up and knelt over her. "Say I am your master."

  Iolanta opened her eyes in shock, breathing heavily. I raised one eyebrow and moved my prick against her.

  "Oh…you are my master…you are my master…" she moaned.

  I smiled again, and climbed up the bed as I had earlier. She took me into her mouth as easily as the whore had, and her tongue moved over me. Perhaps she did not possess the skill and experience of the two girls, but the sensation of Iolanta beneath me, doing my will, aroused me more than a thousand whores would have. I reached behind me and fondled her breasts. Iolanta bucked her hips again, and I knew she was drenched with want, and that she still would have been begging for me to fuck her if she could have. I considered coming into her mouth and leaving her unsatisfied, perhaps even making her watch, still bound, while I took the two girls again, but she opened her eyes then, and I saw the love and desire there.

  I lifted myself up and moved to settle over her as the owl descends on his prey. I kissed her lips, and tasted myself. I let my lips trails over her face and her neck. "Say you love me," I whispered into her ear.

  "I love you. Oh, Mynon, I love you
, I love you…"

  I plunged into her then, hard and merciless, and she writhed against me as if to pull me further into her. I gripped her hips and forced her into my rhythm, slowly at first, then building faster and faster, letting her know with every thrust that she might be queen of two countries, but I was king of her body and soul. She strained at the chains that bound her, cursing and moaning like a whore, and screamed when she reached her climax.

  I kept going, pounding into her until stars exploded across my vision. I moaned and pitched forward onto her breasts. She repeated my name over and over.

  I was hardly aware of the girls unshackling her and covering us with blankets. Iolanta must have dismissed them then, because they disappeared and I never saw them again. I knew, however, that they would be well rewarded. Iolanta slept naked in my arms that night, for the first time in many years, and when we woke we shared tender words and private, softer lovemaking in the morning light.

  That night changed some things, though perhaps not in the ways one might expect. The spark had come back to our lovemaking, but I would be lying if I told you that either of us remained faithful to the other. Our marriage lasted for many years, until her death, and it remained strong because of the understanding we forged that night. I was hardly surprised when she announced her pregnancy a month later; I was even less surprised when the baby had the fair skin and thick black hair of the Sachary ambassador, but Iolanta, to her credit, always insisted the baby was mine and that he honor me as a father. That has allowed me the life of ease I find myself living now that she is gone.

  She did love me, you see, in her way, as your regent loves you. My dear Celine, do not be afraid to be subject to that love, but never stop taking care of yourself either. Those of our kind must be hard and unafraid to share in the power of the great, even as we appear to give up our own power to do so. Stay as fair as you can, in mind and body, and do not deny yourself that which gives you pleasure.