The Penned Dragon

"Gods." Hild rocked her hips back and forth, experimentally. "I have never felt so...full in all my life. I can feel you filling up every inch of me, every nook and cranny filled with your royal rod." She slid a hand between her thighs and began to toy with herself even as her pussy milked him gently. Eadweard rested his hands on her hips, and tried thrusting up into her, but she shifted her weight somehow, pinning him to the bed.

How on earth could she be so heavy?

"Just...allow me the pleasure, my lord. Permit me this moment." He could only grunt as she began rolling her hips in a steady rhythm, grinding his cock against her pelvic bone, mewling with pleasure with each cycle, fingering herself eagerly. Eadweard stared at the erotic tableau his wife presented, body writhing atop his swollen member, one hand rubbing furiously away between her legs while the other teased a nipple. She whipped her hair back in a flying black- no, silvery cloud, and shifted her legs into a deep squat. Between her splayed thighs he could see all of her, the delicate dark- no, bright pink folds stretched wide around his girth, fingers sliding rapidly up and down between them.

Hild was fucking herself down onto his cock now, pumping it in and out of her wonderful pussy in increasingly fast strokes, wetness sluicing out around his shaft in rivulets that pooled in his pubic hair before running down over his balls. His hands rode lightly still on her hip, guiding but not pushing; he began to meet her on the downstrokes, flesh slapping on flesh in a loud smack that drew animal moans from both of them.

"Oh Gods, yes my darling," she panted. "My liege, my lord, my wondrous sweetling, I didn't know how much I needed this, how good it would feel. Fuck fuck fuck me! Fuck an heir into my womb, do right by your queen and your country, my king!" Hild was whipping herself up into a frenzy, fucking him at twice the pace, her hand a blur between her legs, fingers sunk deep in the flesh of her fat, bouncing breast-

"What did you call me?" He asked, not breaking their rhythm.

"My liege!" She dropped down hard on him, and raised herself up again. "My lord!" And again. "My-my wond- oh!" And again. "Ooh Gods. My wondrous! Sweetling!" Her voice reached a shuddering crescendo as her body was wracked with pleasure atop him, but Eadweard could only watch, agog, for her voice was no longer one but two, and there seemed to be two women riding his rampant cock at the same time: one was the familiar elfin form of his wife the queen; the other, a far different woman, thick and curvy where Hild had never been, all luscious feminine flesh bouncing and jiggling over him, fingers digging deep furrows into flesh as her ecstasy overtook her, inky black mane of curls flying as her back arched and she let out a full-throated shriek of pleasure.

"Mother!? What madness is this?"

Bryda smiled lazily down at him, her face flushed with a post-orgasm glow, slowing the pace of her hips on his cock but never stopping.

"I should have known the damn glamour would not last through my own pleasure," she leaned forward, planting her nails in his chest. "I should have just taken your seed and left, but I simply could not help myself, sweetling. It has been too long since I had a cock so big, so young, so eager."

"What did you do? Where is Hild? Where is my wife?" He squirmed a little under his mother's touch as her fingernails toyed with his chest hair.

"Oh, sleeping soundly one imagines. The draught I gave her should keep her until dawn." Bryda wiggled her hips and giggled. "You are so much bigger than your father, you know."

"Mother stop this...this unnaturalness," Eadweard clamped his hands down on top of hers. "Surely you know this is wrong!"

"Perhaps," the Queen Mother's hips pumped in slow, languorous strokes. "But since when do low born morals apply to royalty? Be honest with yourself, sweetling: you are enjoying your mother's own pussy, you love being buried in her royal cunt."

"Untrue!" He insisted. "I am married and faithful and-" Bryda's hips described a long, slow circle, and the rest of his words were lost.

"I know you are sweetling, I know you are, but you cannot deny this." The breath caught in his throat as her pussy worked over his cock, pulling and massaging it. "I made this beast, and it seems I made it to fit perfectly within me. It's okay, my darling, it's okay to admit that you prefer my warm, wet, willing pussy to her cold, dry cunt."

"Mother, I cannot I will not," Eadweard shook his head, desperately trying to ignore the sensation of his mother's pussy pulling on and sliding up and down his cock.

"No?" She chuckled. "My king, I will make it very easy for you." Bryda's thick thighs tightened around his hips, and she twisted sideways. Suddenly, their positions were reversed, and she lay underneath him, raven curls spread out in an inky spray behind her head, enormous breasts heaving below him, a wicked smile playing on her face.

"If you truly wish to stop, I will let you, sweetling. All you have to do is pull out. Here, I'll help if you wish." The muscular walls surrounding his cock clamped down hard, and then he was being pushed out, squeezed backwards along her slippery channel; Eadweard gasped, and tried to keep his vision steady as she did. Then they stopped as quickly as they began, and he found himself staring down at her, only the tip of his cock still nestled within her grasp.

"What is your wish, my king?" Bryda gently worked his head with the tiniest motion of her hips. "Do you want your mother's willing pussy every night until you have bred an heir on her, or do you wish to return to your monthly 'arrangement' with your sweet little lady wife?" She looked for all the world like some pagan fertility goddess, fecundity made flesh, built to fuck and breed and fuck some more with the full-hearted joy of an animal.

The tightness around his cock relaxed utterly. He was free, if he wanted it. Free to return to reluctant, infrequent fucks with a wife who clearly hated it, and possibly him by extension, all in the name of duty. Free to leave the sweet paradise nestled between his mother's legs a second time, despite his swollen member, despite the pounding excitement in his chest.

In the end, it was no decision at all.

Eadweard snarled and grabbed his mother by the hip, slamming his cock back into her, back where it belonged. Her back arched as he did, and those titanic breasts quivered under the impact, big brown nipples shaking in midair. He leaned down and caught one in his mouth as he pumped his cock into her with a will. Bryda gasped and laughed joyfully, and her legs locked behind the small of his back.

"See, my king? Isn't oh! Isn't that better?" Her hands tangled themselves up in his own brown curls, pressing him tight to her plush bust as he suckled and gnawed at her like a man starving. The young king snorted and plowed into her, his own buttocks clenched tight and hard as he drove his cock as hard as he could, maddened by the hunger she'd awoken in him with her body. His fingers sunk deep into her hindquarters, lifting them off the bed, angling for better leverage to slam his cock ever deeper into her, his balls slapping obscenely between his legs.

"Yes yes yes! Fill me up! Make me so full of your seed that it pours out of me, fuck an heir into your mother's womb, let me wring every last drop of that sweet sweet cream from your fucking balls!" The words flowed out like gibberish from her slackening lips, eyes losing focus as her son fucked her faster, harder, making the bed shake and her pussy ache.

Bryda curled her head and seized an ear in her teeth, hissing to him, "Cum for me my sweet boy, cum for your mother, cum cum cum now!" She was rewarded with a throaty roar, and the king's body went rigid as a post, slamming it in deep and hard, then again, and twice more, semen spewing forth from the head of his cock in great jets that splashed hard and hot against the back of his mother's pussy. And then he let out a long held breath and collapsed into her, falling hard into the deep softness of her body.

They tumbled together into a tangle of sweaty limbs, gasping for breath.

"Mother...mother, by the gods what have we done?"

Her arm slipped around his neck, cradling his head against her breast.

"We have given the kingdom an heir, my darling. And if we have not, we shall try again." His softening cock slipped out of her, releasing a gout of hot seed.

"But they will know! The people will know you are pregnant and she is not," he mouthed her nipple as he spoke.

Bryda laughed. "Do you think that I can come to your chambers disguised as your wife but cannot hide something as simple as a swollen belly?" She laughed scornfully. "When the time comes, I will feed sweet Hilda a little something to induce the worst cramps of her short life, enough to make that simpering child pass into sleep. When she awakes, there will be a babe crying at her empty teat. Our babe."

"How long do you think it will take?" The king asked, overcome by a sudden lassitude.

"It could take one night, or many, sweetling." Bryda's hand slipped down his sweaty body to curl about his sticky member. "We shall try and try and try until I say otherwise. How does that please His Majesty?"

In her fist, the unpenned dragon stirred. It was all the answer she needed.

Outside, the winter wind howled in tune to their own cries of pleasure.

FIN