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My lips quirked when she finally plucked an object from the collection. Quite a long one, in fact. Ever the ambitious, overachieving princess.
In addition to the toy, Briar wisely collected a small bottle of lubricant. Her steps grew in confidence as she returned to me, focusing on my expression, which had to be voracious by now. When her breasts scraped lightly over my torso, my respirations faltered.
“How do you want me?” I whispered.
Briar considered the wardrobe, sweeping her gaze over the alcoves packed with racks of clothing. She indicated the three-way mirror mounted on a dais, its layout similar to her own closet. “Put your hands on the glass.”
She was forgetting something, which was fine. Pinning her with an indulgent look, I peeled off the robe, letting the vestment pool to the floor before going to work on the trousers. Once the closures slipped open, I made a show of stripping the pants down my hips.
My feverish cock rose from the gap, hard and hot to the touch. Already, the head bloated, and the veins stood out.
Divesting myself of the trousers, I kicked them aside, luxuriating in the princess’s rapt gaze. Then I turned and sauntered to the dais. There, I planted my palms on the central mirror’s frame, my body on display.
In the glass’s reflection, Briar followed behind me, her proximity radiating down my spine. After a beat, the sensations scattered across my flesh. The tip of the pleasure tool coasted along my vertebrae, then over the swells of my ass.
“I don’t know what to do,” Briar husked.
I responded gruffly, her admission injecting blood to my groin. “I’ll help you.”
And so, I did. In low, sensuous tones, I instructed on how to wield the toy, where to spread me wide, and how deeply to penetrate my opening. No surprise, my studious heiress was a quick learner.
Briar dipped her fingers between my ass and smeared me in silken oil, then she set one hand on my hip and aligned herself flush with my back, the points of her breasts grazing my skin. Like this, she held on—close and connected, as if to feel the same stimulation. Angling the tip, the princess sloped the object between my swells, its girth splitting me open.
I groaned, remembering this feeling. Tilting my ass, I gave a gentle pump, sinking the tool farther into me, pleasure crackling across my muscles.
Briar caught on, sifting the makeshift dick deeper and deeper with each pass. I bowed my head forward, bent steeper, and undulated my buttocks, my moans in tempo to every beat of the object.
A small whimper dropped from her lips. “You’re beautiful like this,” she praised.
I was beautiful in all ways, but the naughty reply died on my tongue. A hiss came out instead, and my back arched as she probed me to the hilt.
Aye. Fuck.
In the mirror, we watched each other, watched Briar fuck me from behind, watched my cock twitch, and watched it bead with cum when her free hand wrapped around the stem. Fractured noises filled the wardrobe—her moans and my growls—as she worked me from both ends, siphoning my erection in her fingers and hoisting the toy in and out of my ass.
The princess entered and withdrew, increasing her depth and swinging out to the crest. All the whilst, I swiveled my waist, meeting her thrusts.
Was it different with a man? Aye.
Was it different with this woman? More than with anyone.
She made it hurt exquisitely. She pierced deeper, longer, harder. She fucked so good, I felt it in my scalp.
Her arm cranked in my periphery. Her panting exhalations struck my spine.
My palms shoved against the mirror, tingles rushed across my cock, and a broken roar scrolled up my throat. Damn this princess yet again. For the first time in my sinful life, I wouldn’t last long.
***
My fucking turn.
In a moonlit row of wheat stalks, I made love to her hard. The fields shivered, the tall reeds flanking us. Walled in, Briar’s knees and palms imprinted into the checkered blanket. She hunkered on all fours and bucked in front of me, with her bare ass spreading for my cock.
Taffeta and leather were discarded across the soil. Daggers and thorn quills littered the tract. The princess’s naked shadow jostled over the ground and blended with mine whilst I bent over her.
“Soften your muscles, sweeting,” I whispered against the shell of her ear.
The princess nodded and loosened her joints. It had taken more than one previous romp to prepare her for me. Despite hinting at this after our delightful session in my closet, she was nervous. Yet that changed as I massaged the jitters from Briar and teased her body into submission.
