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Percy
Saturday 6:45 Pm
Lying on my wedding dress naked with some leftover cum on my tits, I turn my head towards the window to see hundreds of people waving at the carriage.
I look back to find Anton, tucking his cock back in his pants, staring out towards the crowd.
This is perfect. I revel in this moment.
Both amazed at what I’m looking at and shocked that I’m here. Truly, never in a million years could I have seen this coming.
I’ve never been so fucking in love with this man—and myself—as I am right now.
Naked in a royal fucking carriage while millions of people stare, eagerly waiting to see me. It’s insane—beautifully insane.
I can’t believe it’s happening—no, I can’t believe it’s happened.
I’m married. And to a fucking Prince. To fucking Anton.
To the man I’ve loved for—I don’t even know how long.
Really, I don’t.
And now, I’m his Queen.
Well, really a princess, but Queen has a nicer ring to it. It’ll only be a matter of time anyway before that old lady croaks.
I smile at the thought of one day being arealQueen.
Ex-party girl turned European monarch. Admittedly, it has a nice ring to it.
The old hag will definitely be rolling in her grave as I put on her shoes. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Her style is terrible.Her actual shoes, we’ll burn.
Reeling from a powerful afterglow, I continue to lie there. Maybe one day I’ll be able to soak it all in, but certainly not today.
I toy with the beading of my dress and sigh, feeling completely satisfied—well, almost.
The ache in my core starts to build again as I mull over everything that just happened. My cunt pulsates as the thought of being Queen, standing next to Anton, my King.
It’s so fucking hot.
I look back at him, and my tension grows. Him in that tuxedo with sex hair sends daggers straight to my cunt. And knowing that there are people out there waiting, watching as I fuck him in the carriage, intensifies my craving.
Before he finishes zipping his pants, I straddle him once again.
“Your Queen needs an encore,” I say, eagerly.
His gaze turns from sated to sensual in seconds.
God, I love this man. Always willing and ready to please me…as many times as I ask.
I’ve avoided this for as long as possible. Not wanting to admit to him or to myself that I do love him. The thought alone pissed me off.
And now we’re here.
I’m here. Straddling him, wearing his ring and a wedding dress, calling him my King.
