DEAR GOD. However, watch me do them all. Also, I AM WAITING FOR MY BIRTHDAY SMUT, MADAM.
1. They make a fine pair, a crippled old soldier getting by on his lecher's reputation, and a lonely old woman using a touch of magic to keep her hair black and her skin smooth. But Morgause doesn't have patience with many things these days, least of all sentimentality and regret.
This one she has no interest in playing pretence with. The fruit of that is that she knows he's not Arthur, he won't staunch that wound. But as she writhes against the mattress, the fingers of his one hand buried to the knuckles in her, her heart flares and sparks with a satisfaction she can put no name to.
2. "What did all those priests teach you?" Sagramore asks lazily, smiling. Gaheris is still trying to calm the fluttering in his breast at being taken to bed by his brother's lover, by someone who could have Mordred any time he wanted, but is spending the afternoon with him instead.
"Latin, a little Greek, mathematics, illumination, British and French geography," he whispers, as Sagramore's fingers trail across his thighs, as Sagramore leans closer and kisses his chest.
"I'll teach you something the priests won't."
Gaheris' head goes blank when Sagramore's teeth close gently on his nipple, and all he manages to think is that he probably isn't going to learn anything at all.
3. "I'm not an angel," Justin snaps.
"Oh, shut up, I know that," Agravain says, his breath coming in short pants -- it's hard to think with his dick up Justin's pretty white ass, and who the hell cares what endearment a man uses when he's giving you a good fuck?
"Then don't say it."
Agravain can't help being irritated that Justin has the presence of mind to complain at all, and he thrusts harder, doing his best to shut him up, but Justin is perfectly collected.
"A devil's more like it, anyway," Agravain mutters, but Justin maintains a stony silence, and the birdlike cry he gives when he finally comes gives Agravain no satisfaction at all (he knows it's not for him).
4. Even Lancelot, to whom she tells all her secrets, doesn't know about the little golden washerwoman from the courtyard. Guenever feels guilty, sometimes. But then Rina makes them both stand naked in front of the mirror, and smiles her golden smile, and Guenever feels some courage and joy she never feels around the men. Rina's lye-burned hands explore her, from her soft breasts to the tight opening between her legs, hidden by soft blonde curls, and she feels beautiful. She's never found her climax so sweetly with either of the men.
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Date: 2011-08-03 04:26 am (UTC)1. They make a fine pair, a crippled old soldier getting by on his lecher's reputation, and a lonely old woman using a touch of magic to keep her hair black and her skin smooth. But Morgause doesn't have patience with many things these days, least of all sentimentality and regret.
This one she has no interest in playing pretence with. The fruit of that is that she knows he's not Arthur, he won't staunch that wound. But as she writhes against the mattress, the fingers of his one hand buried to the knuckles in her, her heart flares and sparks with a satisfaction she can put no name to.
2. "What did all those priests teach you?" Sagramore asks lazily, smiling. Gaheris is still trying to calm the fluttering in his breast at being taken to bed by his brother's lover, by someone who could have Mordred any time he wanted, but is spending the afternoon with him instead.
"Latin, a little Greek, mathematics, illumination, British and French geography," he whispers, as Sagramore's fingers trail across his thighs, as Sagramore leans closer and kisses his chest.
"I'll teach you something the priests won't."
Gaheris' head goes blank when Sagramore's teeth close gently on his nipple, and all he manages to think is that he probably isn't going to learn anything at all.
3. "I'm not an angel," Justin snaps.
"Oh, shut up, I know that," Agravain says, his breath coming in short pants -- it's hard to think with his dick up Justin's pretty white ass, and who the hell cares what endearment a man uses when he's giving you a good fuck?
"Then don't say it."
Agravain can't help being irritated that Justin has the presence of mind to complain at all, and he thrusts harder, doing his best to shut him up, but Justin is perfectly collected.
"A devil's more like it, anyway," Agravain mutters, but Justin maintains a stony silence, and the birdlike cry he gives when he finally comes gives Agravain no satisfaction at all (he knows it's not for him).
4. Even Lancelot, to whom she tells all her secrets, doesn't know about the little golden washerwoman from the courtyard. Guenever feels guilty, sometimes. But then Rina makes them both stand naked in front of the mirror, and smiles her golden smile, and Guenever feels some courage and joy she never feels around the men. Rina's lye-burned hands explore her, from her soft breasts to the tight opening between her legs, hidden by soft blonde curls, and she feels beautiful. She's never found her climax so sweetly with either of the men.