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There was something about the crisp air of the Himalayan foothills that added to the excitement building up in the Maharani’s imagination. She had been told of the nomination of the Chief of the Royal Guard, Samar Singh for the all important task for which they had traveled to the ashram of the sage. That task involved being fucked by the tall, broad and muscular youngster, for the goal was to become pregnant and bear the Crown Prince for the Kingdom, keeping the King’s impotence a state secret.
When her mother-in-law, the Rajmata told her this just a couple of days ago, she had been taken aback but not shocked. She was not shocked because the solution to the problem of the Maharaja’s impotence had been discussed and she knew she was going to be fucked by someone, with official sanction. The original decision involved subjecting herself to an ascetic, a sage, who would complete the deed in an antiseptic manner. The Rajmata suggested Samar Singh, an idea all her own and to which no one except the three of them were party.
While it surprised the Maharani, it promised her lot more than an encounter with a sage. Her eyes devoured the young soldier ever since. She noticed his build, his muscles, the ripple of sinews down his body and a distinct sackful of a bulge where his cock might be. She wondered if it was just a fold in his garment or really his cock, but she had no way of knowing. She had no way of knowing that her mother-in-law, in the course of instructing Samar Singh had masturbated him. She had been teaching him how to thrust himself in a way that would maximize his load-shots of cum. The idea was to drench the womb of the Maharani.
What the Maharani did not also know was that during that encounter he had held the Rajmata’s succulent breast and gnawed at it. Those memories and the thoughts around fucking the Maharani found him in an almost permanent state of erection. The young virgin lad found his sexual urges completely unleashed. The jacking off he had received was deeply satisfying but it had merely whetted his appetite for a mature, sexually liberating fuck.
So yes, it was his powerful loin that she was eyeing. Without concrete evidence she nevertheless decided it was a large cock he concealed. What had driven her even wilder was the restraint the Rajmata imposed on them. He was the Chief of the Royal Guard, and she the Maharani. The Rajmata had called upon his loyalty to ask him to do the job with clinical focus. Likewise she had instructed her daughter-in-law that no affection or pleasure-seeking was to be encouraged. And so the daughter-in-law spent a lot of time imagining how it would be to fuck him wild. But there was no hope; she could not see the ever-loyal Samar Singh overstepping his brief.
And the Rajmata was going to be watching from behind a lace screen to ensure that things went according to script; no less, no more.
And so as she lay in wait for Samar Singh to come over her, she was conscious of her mother-in-law overseeing this from beyond the silk screen. She could hear the river rushing in the distance and that sound of the rapid surge seemed to match the rush of blood in her system. The tent was dimly lit with oil lit lamps, and the landscape outside was a pale milky white with the collective glow of a star studded sky above.
In this glorious setting, the man who was going to fuck her with consent, but who was not her lover, and who was to not touch her with an ounce of feeling, loomed over her. He was fully clothed as was she. The instructions were for him to just let his cock slip out from the folds of his dhoti and for her to lift her skirt. It was only to be cock and cunt. He was expected to hold himself poised over her, his chest completely off her chest. She was to spread her legs wide so the soft inside of her thighs would not graze and inflame against the rough, hairy legs pushing into her.
When she reached out to take his cock in her slender hand it was truly by instinct. The projectile needed guidance and she meant to reach for it in a clinical sort of way. Her gasp was involuntary and was triggered by the sheer dimension of the tool of impregnation. It vastly exceeded the Maharaja’s cock in girth and she immediately wanted to devour it with her throbbing, open, wet and waiting cunt.
The alert Rajmata heard the gasp and saw her daughter-in-law’s hand disappear between their bodies.
“Samyukta!” she called sharply.
Maharani Samyukta reflexively relaxed her grip on the throbbing monster but didn’t quite let go. Her palm held and weighed his penis, the thumb roaming over the trunk, feeling is texture and contours.
It was Samar Singh’s turn to gasp. The woman below him was radiantly beautiful in the glow of the lamps. Her breasts were heaving and she seemed a rosy pink in her arousal. He felt his throat dry and he despaired at the impossibility of his Royal mission in treating this as a job. He wanted to plunge in, maraud, pound, impale and hammer her cunt into jelly. poker oyna
Instead, he carefully reached between their bodies and took charge of his cock. He slid her fingers off, noticing that she was willingly taking the juice of his precum onto her fingers. As he pushed her hand aside, her fingers gripped his briefly, that one touch communicating the desperation of her sexual desire.
“Maharani Sahiba,” murmured Samar Singh, loud enough for the Rajamata to hear and note that he not forgotten who he was with.
The use of her Royal title had the required effect on Maharani Samyukta and she placed both her hands on the pillow beside her head as instructed by Rajmata. The Rajamata, who had tensed up at the turn of events slowly let go of her breath. As she relaxed, she felt the puddle of fluid in her own insides from the voyeuristic excitement of what she was going to witness. She knew Samar Singh to be well endowed and had secretly worried whether Samyukta would feel pain and therefore push away the young man. She also knew that while his thickness would guarantee pleasurable feelings, his length was just right and no pain would result. Replaying these scenarios and the heavy breathing in the tent caused her to shift uncomfortably in her seat. Unknown to her, a spot had started to form where she sat.
Samyukta looked up at Samar Singh, deep into his eyes. She spread her legs wide, and her lissome body moved in a wave. It was if her body was inviting him in, in breach of her restraining covenants. He could not be sure as her fists and jaw clenched. In reality, she was readying herself to receive pleasure from that stout cock and to grit herself to suppress her own reactions.
She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her whole body as she felt the cockhead nose apart her pussylips. The Chief of Royal Guards felt the Maharani’s pubic hair prickly on his silky soft, wet penis head and he braced himself to assault. He met resistance in part because the petals of her portal were clenched as well and in part because the battering ram was just wider than the gate it was assaulting.
As a duty bound solider, he plowed on, unmindful of pain or injury that might result. As a novice he was in fact, unsure whether he was at the key entry point. Here was a battle for which no maps and guideposts or advance spotters were available. It was one-on-one combat and it was between him and the combatant.
The resistance was only external and physical. No sooner had the outer reaches been breached, the entire passage gave way. A surge of lubrication, loyal to the invader, rushed forward to welcome the thick ram. Samar Singh groaned a loud groan of acknowledgement as Maharani Samyukta’s warm, wet and welcoming passage sucked him in like a sponge, allowing him to sink in to his hilt.
“Ouch! AAAh! Yessssss!” went the Maharani, in quick succession.
He had lost his virginity at last. The bubbly warmth that held him enthralled him. He shuddered and quaked as the chemistry between cock and cunt took over. He allowed himself that moment to register the enormity of the sensations that were swamping him, before reminding himself of his mission.
It was not a moment too soon as he heard the Rajamata hiss, “Now slide in and out as I taught you!”
Samyukta, who was herself lost in the stretch her cunt felt and who was acclimatizing to the throbbing new life that she wished would pound her, was shocked at the implication of her mother-in-law’s statement.
Had the Rajmata tasted of this wonderfully filling cock? Had that lecherous woman enjoyed this virile stud and yet was denying her pleasure? Her mind was in a whirl over the implications of that possibility. She felt her cunt belch in excitement at the thought and a gush of womanly precum engulfed the pulsating cock.
Samar Singh sucked in his breath loudly with a throaty scream as he felt the surge from Samyukta flood in.
The Rajmata had warned him of this; it would prolong pleasure and extend the time. He had been ordered to dry himself so that stimulation was maximised and orgasm was quick. He pulled out of Samyukta and grabbed his cock in the cloth of his dhoti. As he held it to dry it, he felt he would almost cum, he also felt the cock swell to proportions he had never experienced.
Samyukta could not be blamed for the staggering shock of pleasure that Samar Singh’s re-entry delivered to the pit of her stomach.
“Unh!” she grunted, her fingers grabbing the ends of her pillow and twisting and clawing at the mass. She would gladly draw bloodlines on his back but she was not to touch him. Her hips jerked and thrust back at him, seeking pleasurable releases.
Orders, orders, orders. He had been ordered to slide in and out of this woman. It was his duty. He decided to get control of the devil that now possessed his body.
“I,” he said to himself, pulling out, “Have been ordered,” shove in; “To give it to her, in, pull out and pound in and out. And in. and out. And in, canlı poker oyna and…..”
Mechanically he pounded her in and out. He forgot himself, where he was and his surroundings. He just pulled out and pounded in. in the mechanics he forgot that as her juices drenched his cock he needed to dry out.
He also momentarily forgot that there was a woman at the receiving end of that pounding. The more mindless he made it, the more vigorous it became. She felt her pussy walls inflame, she felt juices pour out to quench her fires. Far from it, she felt the lubrication trigger a throbbing of her cunt wall. She wanted, ached for, an involved plundering, not a dispassionate pounding. She wished she could spread her legs wider, or hook them over his shoulders opening her insides to his ravishment. Her breasts felt imprisoned and confined, her breathing constricted and ragged.
Unknown to her, her body responded with fuck-backs. Her chest started to heave in the excitement, in other words Samyukta the Maharani was reduced to a pleasure seeking slut.
The loyal soldier who was riding her was blind to this; and she had the Queen Mother who appeared to have tasted this lad overseeing that restraint was indeed exercised.
Samyukta’s body was on fire. Samar Singh was fucking her and at the very least she hoped it would last. One hand grabbed the hand of the solider where she felt the Rajmata could not spot it. Her other hand roamed to her throat and desperate to touch her breasts for relief she rubbed her own neck in frustration.
Everything that had happened thus far was acceptable to the Rajmata. She knew that a few strokes would be needed before Samar Singh would feel the onset of orgasm. This was particularly so if both of them were wet with excitement, which she wouldn’t rule out. She had a sense of timing on Samar Singh’s stroke play, she thought there were still a few minutes before she would feel the need for intervention again.
Rajmata could not have known what Samar Singh had felt. He had felt the Maharani fuck back. It was when he had pulled back and was focused on the sensations at his cockhead that she had slid back over the ultra sensitive head. He noticed it but kept his eyes shut. He allowed the interplay of cock and cunt as some pleasure was going to be needed to spurt his seed. What he did not anticipate was the feverish clutch of Samyukta’s hand on his own hand.
With the tactical instincts of a good solider, he immediately noticed that she had done this with the hand which the Rajmata could not notice. He opened his eyes to look at the sexually charged woman under him. Their eyes met. He could see she was feverish with sexual desire. Her skin was reddened hot. She turned her head and kissed his hand with a brush of her lips.
Samar Singh had been lecherously admiring this beauty the last two days. Her curvaceous hips, the legs long enough to wrap him in, and above all those plump full breasts. Her lips touching his hand drove him wild and he felt his orgasm rushing forward. No! He could not end here; he had barely felt her. Her eyes, her lips and her body language were screaming for him. How could he not respond? He glanced towards the Rajmata who was watching them intently. He convulsed as the stroking and fucking continued.
With his eyes firmly on the watching dowager from beyond the veil, Samar Singh leaned back, kneeling on the floor and taking the weight of the body off his hands. As he leaned back, his engorged penis slid out, threatening to leave Maharani Samyukta completely.
Rajmata could see that the orgasm had not happened; had he lost his seed in a melting moment, or was it something else? She gesticulated to him wildly. But Samar Singh only stared back at her. As his penis slid back it was on the brink of slipping out. Samyukta was maddened by the idea. She tried to reach out to Samar Singh’s arms to try and stop him but he was too far away.
Maharani Samyukta was still fully clothed as instructed. Her midriff was bare, but that was only because her traditional attire was a ghaghra-choli (skirt-blouse).
Eyes still firmly on Rajmata, Samar Singh’s hand slid under the Maharani and held her through the cloth of the skirt. His strong muscular frame allowed him to lift her with ease by her hips. He brought her up and pulled her back onto his cock so that he filled her back again with a satisfying stretch.. His hands had still not touched her bare skin.
Samyukta was still on the floor but now she was hoisted up at her hip to the level of his hip. The inside of her thighs were in touch with his hips and the back of her thighs lay on his thighs. That was the first skin-on-skin contact between soldier and queen. The angle his cock to press against the roof of her vaginal canal. She gave out a low moan and struggled with a feeling that she might urinate. That sensation came from his cock caressing some tender spots in the area. He was stationary, but his cock seemed to throb on its own. internet casino And that pulsation was a drum beat.. She wanted him to touch her more.
“Ye kya kar rahe ho!” shouted the Rajmata standing up. (What are you doing?)
Samar Singh froze, his gaze alternated between the woman in his lap and the agitated woman beyond the veil. The inflamed desire of the woman impaled on his cock was at dramatic odds with the instructions from the Rajmata. He was hoping the dowager, who he knew from his own encounter with her was not a sexual illiterate would relent. Could she not see the state of her daughter-in-law? Could she not relate to his helplessness and need to respond to the Maharani? Were her rules so sacrosanct? Why not a completion of the pleasure loop since he was to go as far as impregnation?
The Rajmata was toying with the idea of rushing forward, but she was hesitant; the mission had not been completed.
Samyukta wanted to hold back the burst fearing it was urine. She wanted Samar Singh to fuck her with vigor. The dam in her burst and she was glad to discover it was some form of an orgasm. She shuddered and thrashed around as the orgasm wracked her body. Bolts of lightning shot through her breasts electrifying her nipples. They stood up, rock hard in the confines of the silken blouse.
The ache in her breasts was unbearable and while she luxuriated in the violent orgasm she did not touch Samar Singh; her mother-in-law was watching. Her nails dug into Samar Singh’s wrist drawing red claw marks. The other hand reached for him, then she paused. She pulled back and touched her own breast, restrained at first. Then the ache became worse and she squeezed herself from the side of the breast.
Samar Singh was overcome by the movements of the clutching cunt and clawing hands. His cock threatened to release its tormented load. He was not ready for that. He pulled himself out so that he could not release into her. Simultaneously, on impulse he leaned forward and held the top of her blouse. She nodded encouraging him on. Those breasts were now swollen and threatening to burst out of their confines. He thought of her lips and sucking them in. and he though of letting her nipples fuck his mouth; could he extract an orgasm from just that, as Vatsyayan promised in the kama sutra?
With one deft and loud rip, he pulled apart the blouse down the front. Hooks snapped and her nipple hard breasts spilled out. The last hook held fast and the two fruit shaped dumplings stayed like fruit in an overfull bowl.
She waited for him to logically progress and grab her breasts. He did not and just gaped at the delectable mounds of flesh. In desperation she held herself, squeezing her breasts from the broad mass slowly outward to the tips, as if milking pleasure from them. The nipples were now aching and paradoxically, the only relief could come if she hurt herself. She pinched, twisted and pulled on them. Stretching the teats out towards him, as if offering him the flow, she moaned a long painful ‘aaaaah!’.
“Samyukta! Ruk jao!” hissed the Rajmata. (Samyukta! Stop!)
Samyukta released her breasts, only to scoop them again and squeeze outward, and pull on the nipples again, hurting the nubs of flesh. And again, and again, in defiance of her watching mother-in-law and in a challenge to the soldier who refused to succumb.
The relief washed over her as one more, milder, orgasm trembled through her frame. the skirt below her drenched in the musky fluid with an aroma that wafted up to his nostrils. She looked up and smiled at him. She had broken the shackles of restraint by mauling of her own tits, by coaxing out one more orgasm, and by the shameless pursuit of her own pleasure. It was a triumph for her. She now turned to helping Samar Singh throw off those restraints. She knew the loyal soldier could not do what she had dared. He needed help.
She reached out for his hands, taking his hands in hers. Her soft fingers felt out the calluses and rough surface of his palms. They would feel wonderful on her. She pulled the hands towards her breasts, but he held himself back as they hovered over them.
“Kya baat hai, Samar Singh ji?” she asked. (What is the matter, Samar Singh?) The use of the respectful suffix ‘ji’ sounded incongruous to Samar Singh coming from a half naked woman lying in front of him. The nipples had lost their turgidity due to the relief from Samyukta’s efforts. The breasts looked divinely appetizing, mounds of pleasure topped by delectable grape like protrusions.
“Rajmata,” he croaked, his throat dry with desire, his brow damp with sweat.
“Jab tak hum ek do ek doosre ko sukh aur santusht nahi karte, tab tak aap mujhe achchi tarah bhar nahi payenge,” she said interleaving their fingers. He shuddered at the masterful interplay which massaged him. (“Till we satisfy each other fully, we cannot pursuer this mission properly.”)
“Yeh tum kya keh rahi ho beti!” protested the Rajmata. (What are you saying!)
“Mai sahi keh rahi hoon, maa. Aap mujh par bharosa rakhiye, apko apna pota mil jayega,” she replied, her eyes drinking in the mad ferocity in Samar Singh’s eyes. (I am right. Trust me. I will deliver you your grandson.)
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