A Royal Impregnation

It was inconceivable that the people should know the

Maharaj (King) was impotent. He could have adopted one
like many kings do. But the political fragility of his rule did not
permit him to make a public admission of this all too human
failing.

The first thought was that the senior queen may have been
infertile. It was decided then that the other lesser queens
should be tried. Before doing this, the King had to send word
to the Principal Queen's father who was the powerful King of
a neighboring country. Important political alliances could be
upset by careless handling of such issues as which queen is to
bear the crown prince.

Maharani couldn't believe all of this. The Royal bed was the
scene of many a battle but he had been on the receiving side.
The Maharani engaged in sexual politics to retain her
position as the Chief Queen; she wanted that not only in the
legal sense but also in the marital sense. He had responded
to her moves and yet, the truth was he couldn't impregnate
her. Then again on reflection she felt it was she who was
more aggressive than him in bed. His penis was slender, but
she knew that had nothing to do with impotence.

So when the message went to her father, it went with her

own little note, telling her father she concurred that the
crown prince was to be delivered by one of the junior
queens. It was hard for her to give details but she made the
point that she was open to other queens being considered
and that it posed no threat to her primacy.

Several months of fucking later, they all knew the truth.

Maharani sat in the adjoining room knowing Maharaj was
busy humping a competitor queen; for competitors were
what they were. Even as grunts and moans floated to her
ears, Maharani flushed at the recollection of how much she
had played the game in the royal bed to make him her slave.
Even as each of those others worked hard to leave an
everlasting impression on the king in his moment of need,
she knew it was not going to happen anytime soon.

Kings have harems. Inevitable. But making sure that the best
fuck he ever got was with her; now there was an art. And
Maharani played it with finesse. She allowed chosen maids to
surprise the Maharaj on occasion by having them wait in the
wings while she was driving him mad with her cock-teasing.
The king had marveled on all those occasions. Once a soft
pair of hands gripped his wrists and pulled them off the
maharani's plump breasts and held him down flat on the bed.
The maid who the queen had called in for this would take no
orders from him. And she held him down, pinned him and
held him in various poses for the Maharani to fuck.

And then there was the time he was made to sit on the lap of
a nude maid who held him in his grip and the Maharani
climbed on top of him and milked him dry. It didn't take
much to wear him out, but she knew his nature and realized
he would still want to forage. On many an occasions, while
they were intertwined in post-coital sleep, she had a maid
mouth him awake, have him aroused to a new erection and
sucked dry by the maid. She could well have done it herself,
but the Maharani knew it was not about pleasure, but about
pleasure from different women.

In this fashion, the Maharani kept the Maharaja under her

thumb. He kept coming back for more and more to this
woman who gave him everything a man could fantasize
about. Since her energies were so focused on the politics of
the situation, the Maharani found her own sexual needs
languishing. The situations she invented for her husband
aroused her no end. But the man was perpetually drained
and didn't have significant staying power anyway.

And then came the orders from the Rajmata that the
kingdom needed a Crown Prince. The discovery which
followed plunged the inner circle of the Royal Family in
gloom.

So now, The Maharani (Queen) and the Rajmata (the King's

mother) sat fidgeting as the King and the Court Physician
pondered the situation. The silence had been long and had
become embarrassing. Finally, Rajmata decided to speak up.
She knew the solution; she had known it all along, but she
just didn't want to be the one to suggest it. Yet, since the
Royal Physician was making such a mess of it, she felt the
need to step in.

"We send the Maharani to Gurudev's ashram for rest and a

yagna. The Crown Prince will be conceived there," she
declared.
"Mother!" thundered the Maharaja, shocked that his mother
would suggest this remedy.

It was an ancient and accepted tradition. It was discreet. And

there was a safety in the sharing of such delicate issues with
the Gurus, Sages and ascetics who were linked with the Royal
Family.

Each Royal Family had its own spiritual counselors and they
received patronage from the Kingdoms. The need was
mutual and the loyalty was time tested over generations.
And no King messed around with a rival's Raj Guru. Not that
they would have succeeded if they had tried; the spiritual
ascetics were above temptation.

They had conquered all, including sexual desire. And thus

their reputation for sexual power and prowess. Their deep
practice of yoga, physical fitness and energy flows in their
body meant power was a given. But it was under their
control. They were family men but in keeping with the
traditional prescription for how a man should lead his life,
the sexual phase was limited to the post – student, middle
years of their lives. Thereafter, restraint was practiced and
this restraint was seen as a source of power.

They lived in the Himalayas, in the foothills on the banks of

mighty rivers. Some ventured further into the mountains.
Others achieved spiritual heights from which they never
returned.
And those that were linked with the Royal Families, every
once in so many generations were called upon to fulfill this
one more duty: siring the Crown Prince. It was a good
bloodline to let into the Royal dynasty in any case.

All this was known and taught to the Maharaja in his days as
a prince under training. But he never thought this would
happen to him.

Reluctantly, he agreed to the Rajmata's proposal, but it was

all to be done quietly. It was a small team of three hand-
maids, the Chief of the Royal Guards with three of his men,
the Rajmata and the Maharani herself who were to go on the
'pilgrimage'. In this retinue only the Rajmata and the
Maharani knew the real purpose of the trip. The journey
involved two night stopovers and they were scheduled to
spend 4 to 6 weeks there, returning only after the pregnancy
was confirmed.

The Chief of the Royal Guards rode ahead of the retinue,

checking the path. Sometimes he sent his soldiers ahead to
scan the landscape. At other times he rode to the back of the
entourage to ensure there were no laggards and that all was
going to perfect plan.

A young man of 20 years, he was son of the General of the

Army and his family had served in exact identical fashion for
several generations now. The sons of the house served in the
Royal Guard, participated in various campaigns and matured;
till the father stepped aside as General for his son to take his
place.
And so it was with Samar Singh, an experienced soldier, who
was battle hardened and brave despite his youth. He was just
a year younger than his master, the Maharaja. He was tall,
broad shouldered, muscles rippling and resplendent in his
uniform. He rode his horse with majestic control and the
customary mustache added to the authority and control he
reflected.

The women certainly felt safe with him personally escorting

the group. The Rajmata had a special affection for the boy
who had played with her son in the growing years. She
watched him through the window of the carriage, proud to
see him carry himself with so much grace. She sighed. The
young man did not know what was in her mind. No one new
what her real plan and she just hoped she could pull it off.

The Rajmata reflected on the events of the past few months.

She knew that her son was impotent. She allowed him to
fuck the two junior queens just so that he would realize there
was no option but to listen to her. Her son had been thrust
upon the throne at a young age for the untimely death of her
own husband. There had been intrigue and palace politics
and the new Maharaja's position was weak. The queens in
order of seniority were chosen by her to create strong allies
in the neighboring states.

The Rajmata felt responsible for establishing the Kingdom on

a firm footing and therefore the sense of urgency about the
Crown Prince. But she wanted a bold, brave and strong
Crown Pirnce; not someone intellectual and spiritually
inclined. She felt strongly that a son sired by the sage would
not meet that standard. It would have someone who had a
martial orientation in his blood. Someone like Samar Singh,
the Chief of the Royal Guard. Trusted and capable, practically
family, the young man seemed the right choice.

It was not going to be easy. Both the Maharani and Samar

Singh had to agree. The Maharani was the daughter of a
powerful ally; if she demurred there was not much she could
do. And the loyalty which the Rajmata was relying on in the
case of Samar Singh could well turn the other way with the
solider refusing to sleep with his master's wife.

The Rajmata would have to give them time to get used to the
idea. She made up her mind; she would tell them tonight so
they could reflect on it for the next two days. Then an
auspicious hour on the third night would be chosen for the
consummation. She would supervise the deed to ensure it
stayed within the confines of a job to be done. She didn't
want any complications of emotion and sexual exploration.
Samar Singh was not married yet, and she wanted the
impregnation handled clinically. There was no place for
intimacy or lingering. Her presence would ensure that.

Samar Singh was shocked. Shocked that the Rajmata should

ask him to fuck the Maharani. Shocked at the way she put it
across in terms which seemed lewd to him.

He did not think she could use the words that she did use in
asking him to fuck her. She was also explicit in telling him
that there was to be no breast sucking, no caressing, no
kisses and no lingering.

"I am saying this to you because you may be a virgin and you
may not have experienced a woman. But the temptation to
lie on the woman under you and doze will overcome you.
You will not. You will leave immediately. Understood?"
instructed the Maharani, looking the young soldier in the
eye.

Samar Singh stared right back. Added to one kind of shock

was the other shock of the fact that he now had a raging
erection. He was glad this meeting was taking place while he
was still in his riding breeches. If this had happened an hour
or so later he would have been casually attired. Right after
the royal tents had been setup, his own tent would have
been up and he would have changed.

The casual clothes that he wore would not have restrained

his erection to any confines. It would have stood, full and
proud and the Rajmata would have noticed it straight off. In
fact, right now he was frozen, staring right back at her,
because he was fearful that any movement would give away
his aroused state.

"I can't do it," he mumbled, his mind firmly on the though of

lying between Maharani's legs and sinking his shaft into her
folds.

"You must. For the king and kingdom for which you are ready
to lay down your life, this is a simple and quick duty,"
ordered Rajmata, relieved that the youngster felt inhibited.
This improved the chances of the entire situation remaining
under control.

"Yes, I am ready to lay down my life, but this is different. I

have never looked at Her Highness in any fashion and always
have my head down in front of her. It seems like an act of
treachery that I should touch her," protested Samar Singh.
His mind was dizzy at the thought of losing his virginity to the
queen. His mind recalled the occasion when he had seen her
chest thrust out proud and full. The breasts that made her
chest so full must be large and sumptuous he thought. His
cock twitched and he felt wetness.

Samar Singh knelt down; partially to ensure his physical state

was not detected and in part because he felt he no longer
stand.

"This has the King's sanction. Do you think the Maharani and
I are headed out for such a long pilgrimage without his
knowing why?" laughed the Rajmata.

She stood up and walked to where he was kneeling and

placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling the muscle-hard man.
Instantly, her mind wondered about how her daughter-in-law
would react to the touch of a man so well endowed and
sculpted with muscle. She sighed. This entire situation had a
corrupting influence and she knew that. She could feel her
own reaction to Samar Singh as that of a woman assessing a
virile man; for that one moment, gone was the Rajmata –
subject relationship.

"Son, you are a good man. I wouldn't ask you to do

something which was not of national importance. And I
wouldn't ask anyone outside our inner circle to do it either.
Do you realize, if not you, someone has to make her
pregnant?" she reasoned.

Samar Singh looked up at her. Her eyes were large, beautiful

and full of kindness. He could not say no to her. And he did
not want some one else touching the Maharani. Better him,
who had the good of the kingdom above everything else in
his mind.

But with the hormones raging in his bloodstream he could

not think of getting the act done without touching, feeling,
kissing and fondling her. In the last fifteen minutes that he
had been with the Rajmata, his mind was on the Maharani's
breasts, her soft thighs and in his mind he had clutched her
curvaceous ass, pulling her onto his cock as he fucked her.

"It is a lot to ask for," he said. "I am a virgin not because I did
not have opportunity. It is because I wanted my first
encounter to be special and with someone special. I had
many plans for this. It was neither quick nor short nor
hurried. It was to be a long feast, a celebration," he
confessed.
"Yes it is a lot to ask for and that is why I am asking you,"
replied the Rajmata. Samar Singh's words had a deep impact
on her. She herself was in her forties and her husband's
untimely death had left her with unfulfilled desires. Her bed
felt empty but the Rajmata's exalted position in the kingdom
demanded that she conduct herself with discretion.

She caught herself imagining that she could have been that
someone special and shared special moments with this
young man.

"Had this occurred to me before, I could have fulfilled this

need in this boy and prepared him for the fuck with
Samyukta," she reflected. She would have enjoyed the sexual
bonding and she could have instructed him with great care.
The heat of his sexuality and his virginity would have been
tempered and the risks of emotional or sexual involvement
with the Maharani would have been limited.

The Rajamata shook herself from this reverie the moment

she felt warmth between her legs. She turned her back on
him and said, "Don't treat this as that special first. It is just a
job that you have to do. Keep your plans for the real first."

She did not turn back, waiting to see if he would say anything
else. There was silence.

Samar Singh stayed kneeling. "As you wish," he said at last,

"But there are obviously lots or arrangements that need to
be made. Has the Maharani been told?"

"Yes, she knows that this needs to be done. But she doesn't
know that I prefer you," she said, glad that her back was to
Samar Singh.

"You need her concurrence before I build this up in my mind,

isn't it?" asked Samar Singh.

The Rajmata's response was instant and severe. "You will not
build up anything for this, okay!" she hissed. Then she calmed
down. She needed cooperation and promises; this was not a
time to be dictatorial.

"She will do as I say. Both of you need to mentally accept

this, that's all. Other preparations relate to when we will do
it. You of course, need to be bathed and specially prepared
for your union with her. You know how to fuck a woman,
don't you?" she asked, mentally ruing the tasks that were
involved in managing the affairs of state.

"Only theoretically, yes" responded Samar Singh, cursing this

situation in which he had to share his sexual secrets with an
older woman, that too her Royal Highness the Rajmata who
most people did not even get to speak to.

"From where?" asked Rajmata.

"I have read parts of Vatsyayana's Kama Sutra," he replied.

"So you know the basics?" she pushed on. She needed to
attend to all the details of this very delicate task. The young
man would have to get it right first time, and impregnate the
woman. She could not afford a miss, so that the couple
would have to have a go at each other once again. More
encounters could only lead to more complications.

"More than just the basics," replied Samar Singh.

"Well you need nothing more than the basics. You must
enter her, and slide in and out enough number of times to
stimulate yourself towards an orgasm," she instructed. And
now she had to ask some very embarrassingly detailed
questions. "Have you really never been with a woman?"

"No," said Samar Singh. He did not want to volunteer any

additional information after Rajmata's sharp reply to his
saying he knew more than the basics.

"Are you sure? Not even Sangram Singh's daughter?" pushed

on the Rajmata.

Samar Singh marveled at her detailed intelligence on him.

Then again, all the key families had most members serving
the palace in one capacity or the other, so such information
might not be so difficult to obtain, after all.
"Well, just once when she was tending to a wound on my
back," he mumbled.

"Aha! What happened then?" asked Rajmata. Strangely she

felt let down that the young man would have not have seen
her as special if something had happened with Sangram
Singh's daughter. "Vivacious, pretty thing that lass," she
thought to herself, "I wouldn't blame Samar for anything."

"She let her fingers play on my body and rubbed her breasts
all over my back as she leaned over me to massage," said
Samar Singh.

"That's ok! Its not sex," exclaimed the Rajmata. There was
hope. "Hope for what?" she caught herself thinking. "You are
the Rajmata and a widow. Shameful thoughts these!"

"Well, I got aroused and soon we were indulging is some

rough play. I grabbed at her and caught her breast by mistake
and she mischievously reached between my legs and
accidentally caught my hard on. I had been lying face down
and the movement against the floor below had already
stimulated me. In the heat of the moment, she didn't let go
of my ......." Samar Singh couldn't complete the sentence.

"And then what happened?" asked Rajmata, her breathing

became rapid and her face flushed.

"And then my seed spurted forth, into her hand, and she ran
away in embarrassment," he ended.

"That's it!" exclaimed Rajmata, "That spurt! That is what we

need inside Samyukta!"

"I know," said Samar Singh.

"You know? Do you masturbate?" asked Rajmata. The

question was spontaneous and she regretted it. Her own
body was juiced up and her sexual instincts were now in full
flow. She herself was going to need to masturbate tonight; so
turned on was she by the entire proceedings. Perhaps she
could fuck this young virgin here and now. But the risk of
Samyukta walking in was too high. Otherwise, Rajmata was
delirious with sexual desire.

A long silence ensued as Samar Singh struggled to answer.

Did he need to answer? He though keeping quiet would
answer the question.

Rajmata turned around and put her hand on Samar's chin

and made him face her. She looked deep into his eyes, her
breasts heaving in sexual tension. The movement of the
bosom was not lost on Samar Singh. In this atmosphere, the
woman's beauty magically came to life in front of him. "How
could I not have noticed the buxom, burlesque sexuality of
Rajmata?" he wondered. "Because I am a loyal soldier of the
kingdom" his brain replied.
"Do you masturbate? Answer me, it is a serious question,"
Rajmata persisted.

Samar Singh felt his throat dry up. The Maharaja's mother
was perilously close to him, he could smell her perfume and
even the natural aroma of her body. He nodded silently.

"Well, you will fuck Samyukta till you feel the same sensation
rise up in you as you feel when you masturbate. When the
crisis is upon you, you will fuck harder; not slow down to
prolong the act. When you fuck harder, you will explode into
orgasm and shoot forth your seed. And when you shoot, you
will keep yourself embedded deep in her. Every spurt must
spray into her womb. Pull back between spurts, so that you
bring out greater bursts of seed. Understood?" asked the
Rajmata, unconsciously licking her lips as she salivated. It was
a reflexive action on her part, but the sexual message from
her was clearly visible to Samar Singh.

He gaped in disbelief at her. He understood every word, but

it was hopelessly unreal. As he was transfixed, Rajmata
mistook it for ignorance.

"Here, let me show you," said the Rajmata pushing on with

the job of preparing the young man for the royal service. She
slid her hands down his torso, leaning over him. Her hands
pressed on the breast plate and armor and raced downward.
She insinuated her hand between armor and the folds of his
dhoti. Her fingers found the forest of pubic hair and the
massively engorged head of his penis pressed back against
his stomach.

Her fingertips slid around the head, marveling at the size of

the knob. Her palm slid down the underside of his cock; she
noted the thickness and found herself worrying for her
daughter-in-law. Thankfully it was not unreasonably long,
though she found herself wondering whether a longer cock
would have ensured the drenching of the womb.

Samar Singh collapsed to the floor with the convulsions that

wracked him as he felt the smooth silken fingers probe the
contours of his manhood. The woman he had seen during his
growing years as the Rajmata now loomed over his supine
body. Her mouth hung open and her eyes were lidded heavy.
Suddenly, the slut in her was on full display.

Samar Singh gasped as she loosened the folds of his dhoti,

unraveling the long garment so that he now lay unpackaged
with his trappings spread under him. Her globe-like breasts
hung above him, inviting him to grab her but he didn't dare
do that.

"This," whispered Rajmata, "is what I want you to use." Her

fingers traveled up and down the thick weapon, feeling its
heat. The trunk of his cock was dry but the head was
smeared with a slimy cap of precum. She ran her thumb over
the head, smearing her own thumb with the juices and
spreading them on the ram. She was going to simulate a fuck
with her fist and show him how to hold back between spurts
and how to thrust in during the spurting. She needed to
prepare the cock to take the rough fisting that was to come
without hurting this darling boy.

"This is the act of fucking," she murmured, her mouth

slurring with the saliva pooling there reflexively. "My fist is
Samyukta's cunt. When my fist rises up, that is when your
cock is at the mouth of her lips. Yes?" she asked, wanting to
ensure her student understood the mechanics of the lesson.

Samar Singh shuddered, "Y-y-y-esssss" he managed, as the

bejeweled hand rode up the cock, the bottom of her
clenched fist letting the head slip out.

"You will be this wet, and she may well add to your wetness.
That will not be good for the task at hand. We need you to be
aroused quickly and orgasm even faster. So you may have to
dry your cock. But just now, I will not, because I don't want to
hurt you," she explained. "In fact, these must go" she said
and deftly removed the several rings she wore on her fingers.

She now gripped his cock hard in her fist and Samar Singh
growled. Without the bands of the rings and with the extra
pressure she was driving him mad with lust. Rajmata relaxed
her fist on the Chief of Guard's cock. "A cunt is never as tight
as one can make one's fist. The trick to a quick cum is
knowing the extra sensitive zone on your head" she went,
marveling at her own sexual expertise.
She rotated her thumb on the head and looked into his eyes
to see where the reaction was most. Samar Singh had his fists
clenched and was thumping the carpet in frustration.
Suddenly he pulled up his knees, shuddering. "Aaaaaaaaah!"
he growled in his throat. He would have liked to scream at
the pleasure those soft silken fingers were showering him
with; but his team would enter the tent in the blink of an eye
if he did that.

"There!" said the Rajmata triumphantly. "That is where the

zone is. It is this you must manipulate to rub the lips of her
cunt as you fuck. Now, lets show you how."

She pushed her bangles up from her wrist so they wouldn't

jangle and attract attention. More importantly, they might
fall on or scrape the wonderful specimen of manhood she
was enjoying handling. The equipment was crucial for the
mission at hand and in the corner of her mind she noted that
here was an asset that merited careful handling... "Listen
carefully," she instructed her student.

"When my fist is up and off your cock, you are outside

Samyukta," she said, noting the copious fluid. No chance of
hurting with this much of ooze, she thought to herself.

"When I slide my fist down, that is you thrusting forward, and

the cock entering the cunt. Remember, it is you who will be
thrusting and the cunt that is not moving," she clarified.
"How can I be so sure?" she wondered. "Won't Samyukta
twitch, throb, convulse and thrust up?"

"Now this," she said as her fist rode down the cock, pulling
the sheath back, "is what happens when you plunge into her.
Do you feel the caressing and stimulation in your cock?"

"Unh!" grunted Samar Singh in response.

"Do you? Answer me! You have to observe, not lose yourself
in pleasure," she insisted, demanding the impossible of him.

Samar Singh nodded, his mind spinning. This was unreal. And
what if someone walked in? He had told his deputy that he
would back in a jiffy to set up their own tents. Or worse, if
Samyukta walked in on the sight of the Chief of Guards being
fisted by the Rajmata? Yet, he desperately hoped the
Rajmata would not have the same fears and stop. He didn't
want this to stop. Right now he wanted to push the woman
back and impale her like a beast falling on its prey. He thrust
his hips back and forward seeking his own pleasure, against
her command.

His eyes moved over her kind if now-sluttish face and down
that wonderful neck where he could see her pulse down to
her heaving bosom. He wanted to maul those large succulent
breasts. Now!

But all he did was nod back.

"That stimulation is what you must latch on to very early
during the fuck. Don't forget, she is the queen and your
intercourse with her must not extend beyond the bare
minimum. Now here is the trick; when you pull back you
must drag your cock head along the wall of her cunt so that
most sensitive zone – this," she said, moving her hand off and
tapping the zone on his bulb, "is stimulated as well."

Samar Singh jumped when she tapped him there, groaning

loudly as he realized this woman was a veteran. God knows
what all she had been doing in the royal quarters. But she
had in a few minutes zeroed in on the exact strokes he
masturbated himself with.

"So fuck in," she mumbled as she slid her fist down the cock
down to the coarse forest of pubic hair, "and pull out" she
said as she loving caressed the cock sliding her fist up, pulling
at the foreskin. Streaks of viscous precum ran from cock to
fist as she completed the stroke with a flourish. She carefully
caught the slop in her fist; it would be useful in increasing the
speed and finishing this important and infinitely pleasurable
job. What a pity. She should have thought of all this before.
There would have been no need for a hurried encounter on
the floor of a camp tent, fraught with the danger of
discovery.

"Fuck in," she slammed her fist down. Samar Singh gasped at
the sudden vigor and his hand involuntarily grabbed her arm.
"Pull out," she squeezed his cock as she milked it. "In. Out. In.
Out. In. out!" her eyes were transfixed on the sight of his
deeply colored cock and the surging of its head as she said
'in'. That bulbous monster belonged inside her, she thought
to herself obscenely as she fisted the cock with a vigorous
series of strokes. She barely noticed Samar Singh grab her
breast through the silk blouse. His thumb desperately sought
out the nipple so he could know the lay of the land.

"Ah! Yes. Unh. Haaah!" he howled with each thrust, eyes

fixed on the luxuriously long fingers, the royal fist and his
wildly responsive animal of a cock.

Rajmata Priyamvada was lost in the world of milking this

young man's cock. For a few moments the lesson being
taught was forgotten. Saliva dripped from her mouth onto
the mess below where fist and cock were sliding in and out.
When his invading thumb unfurled her nipple, she
shuddered.

"Wait, Samar," she gasped. "Look here!" she pleaded.

Gratefully, his hand claimed the breast, kneading and
stroking, since the Rajmata did not stop him.

"When you are deep in her, do you see how your cockhead
swells?" she asked. Her eyes were transfixed. She was in a
trance as she fucked him with her fist.
Samar nodded moaning in ecstasy.

"Your skin is pulled back, the head is swollen; if you spurt

when your cock is like this at its depth inside her, the job will
be done. So tell me, are you sufficiently aroused to cum?"
she asked.

In reply he gripped her wrist and moved her hand at a fast

pace, rapidly. Rajmata rested her other hand on the ground
for support. His cock was dangerously near her face. Her hair
fell forward. She swept it back quickly for she needed him to
see the spurt and learn the lesson well.

"Now!" he blabbered, as he felt his orgasm coming up.

Rajmata noted that the speed and vigor of the fisting meant
Samyukta would have to be fucked with the same energy if
the encounter was to be short yet effective. She found
herself wondering if Samyukta had ever been pounded so
well and effectively. And if not, then would she not be like a
lioness tasting blood? Would she not, in fact, feel the same
way that Rajmata was feeling right now, that Samar Singh
was to be enjoyed in toto?

"Keep your eyes here!," she ordered him.

Samar Singh's body convulsed.

"This is when you must fuck extra hard, not slow down," her
fist moved up and down in rapid strokes.
"Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" wailed Samar Singh. When he
masturbated this was when he slowed down to prolong the
pleasure. But the Rajmata expertly ran her thumb over the
zone between strokes.

He squeezed his buttocks as he felt his entire being

summoned to the experience.

"Cum for me, my laadla," crooned the Rajmata, at her sluttish

worst and recalling the familiarity of his growing years at the
same time. (Laadla: an endearment for a beloved son.)

"Here!" she exclaimed in victory. "Note how my fist is down

at your every convulsion!"

Just as she said this both she and Samar Singh lost
momentary control and a few random jerks ensued. He
gripped her and pulled her to himself. His face was buried in
her bosom and his hips thrust into her hard. But the Rajmata
took the situation back.

"Now," she exhorted him. Her fingers read the pulsating

pillar in her grip.

"Watch," she ordered him as she fisted him down expecting a

shot from his cock which she sensed was ready to explode.
The cock was tremulous; the seed seemed to pause. She
quickly slid up and back down. "Fuck like that to make it
burst; don't allow it to recede," she said quickly, using the
opportunity to make a point.

She fisted down and watched, hoping this was it. Samar Singh
released his buttocks and his entire cock seemed to melt in
that instance. Fluids held back seemed to gather and flow
through.

"Take what now is Samyukta's!" hollered the subjugated

soldier as he let go.

The spurt was huge and caught Rajmata unawares. It

splattered on her neck. The fact that her fist was at the base
of his cock and the cock was unsheathed so that, like a
slingshot it released its load with force; the shot hit her with
a splatter.

"That! That!," gasped the sexual virtuoso of a woman. But

she could not complete the intended sentence. The flailing
and thrusting was rapid. The scene had moved on.

Her fist rose. "You must pull back so that the next shot is as
vigorous," she explained and rammed her fist back in time for
the next spurt. This was more copious and less forceful.

"Now, one more!" goaded the Rajmata. The spurt became

more heavy as the force dwindled.

"Now, a trick," she smiled, thinking of who, when and how

she had learned of this one. "If you want to build up this
melting spew into one last shot, clench your buttocks.
Clench!" she said forcefully, bringing him to reality from the
stupor of orgasmic delight.

"Now, rapid jabs in and out to raise the stimulation," she

fisted the head alone. "Nod to me when you feel that you are
ready to burst but for the clenching," she looked intently at
his face. She noticed he was sweating. She realized that she
too was sweating. And that first gob that had hit her on her
throat was now racing down. The slopes of her bosom made
sure the stream of cum ran down her cleavage. It soaked the
silk bodice within.

He nodded. "Now! Maaaaaaaaaaa!" he screamed.

She ran her fist down fully, completely, unsheathing the

wonderfully stimulated, conquered, tortured, milked cock.
Samar Singh sucked in his stomach, his loins shuddered and
he spurted a shot comparable with the very first one. It did
not have as much volume as that first; it tried to reach out
for the rose-tinted and flushed neck of the Rajmata and fell
back to the amalgam of fist and cock below.

Samar Singh twisted and turned. The head of his cock was
now extra sensitive. The pleasure was unbearable. The breast
in his hand was massaged and twisted and pummeled. Soon
enough he buried his head in it and bit at the nipple.
Her own cunt was a soppy mess and she didn't need this
mouthing of her nipple. It was going to be a long night for her
as these fires ignited in her would need putting out. She
would have stopped him but her hand was soaked and
coated in this cum. She looked at the milky white mess and
its abundance. The pressure was now gone. The cock now
spewed in helpless weak dribbles. But it seemed never
ending.

"Good," thought the Rajmata, "this surfeit of semen will

help." She would make her daughter-in-law stay lying back,
knees pulled up so that all this goodness would find its way
seeping into the womb.

"The temptation to maximize pleasure is great. But the time

for that is not when you are spurting in her womb. I need
those full-blooded shots into her womb. Your reward in
pleasure is now," she said. Her fingers closing around the
head of the cock and squeezing the rapidly receding bulb in
and out. Samar Singh spasmed and shuddered, luxuriating in
the sheer pleasure that the Rajamata was bestowing on him.
He sobbed into her breast, milking her through the flimsy,
now-wet silk, as she milked him.

As the heat of the moment receded, sanity began to make a

comeback.

"This pleasure is for you only today," confessed a more sober

Rajmata. "Please realize that on that day you will be with the
Maharani. You cannot seek your own pleasure with her. That
would be improper."

Samar Singh nodded. His mouth was on her nipple. The

blouse soaked with his saliva revealed the treasure of her
flesh to him. As sanity returned he let the nipple slip
reluctantly out of his lips. He was grateful for the continuing
ministrations of her fingers. Smalls jerks and spasms
continued to wrack him as he felt a great sleep wash over
him. The tiredness of the day's riding came rushing on.

Rajmata tousled his hair and smiled.

"So, now you know what to do. And now I know my choice is
correct," said the Rajmata matter of factly. She wiped her
cum smothered hand on the dhoti which lay on crumpled
now below him. There was a lot of cum and that pleased her
no end.

She threw the cloth of the dhoti across his body. –it was so
strange; what seemed beautiful and joyous in the ardor of
the moment was now embarrassing.

Samar Singh's eyes roamed the woman's body. The nipple

poked out in attention visible through the wet silk of the
blouse. The streak of semen now semi-dry, drew a line from
her throat to the cleavage, though it was still moist where it
had touched her gold chains. Suddenly, his hand, which was
no longer mauling squeezing the breast could feel its fullness
and weight.

"She must be a goddess in bed," wondered Samar Singh. The

Rajmata looked radiant-pink in the flushed aftermath of the
intense time together.

She gently removed his hand from her breast and covered
her bosom with the drapes of her duppatta. She blushed; this
storm of sexual emotion was an old fire that had lain
dormant for a while. She stared at the supine form of Samar
Singh. She been able to see the strength of his physique over
the years; more so these last couple of days since this new
plan had occurred to her. And now she had seen his
endowment at close quarters.

They sat there immersed in thoughts of the possibilities of

each other for a while. Rajmata realised that they needed to
move. She now had to talk to her daughter-in-law. She
looked in his eyes and could see similarities in his thoughts.
As her eyes wandered down his body for the n-th time, she
noticed a twitching bulge develop beneath and a tent
forming where his groin was.

She simply had to move. This time she may not be able to
resist him; and there was no assurance that he would be able
to control himself anymore.

Both of them arranged their clothes. She used the end of her
dupatta to wipe the stains from her throat, neck and chest.
He tied his dhoti as best as he could, tucking away his fresh
erection.

As they arrived at an acceptable state of clothing, Maharani

Samyukta swept into her mother-in-law's chamber attired in
a relaxed, evening dress.

She was taken aback to see both of them there. Their

proximity would be normal between any two persons. But
considering that one of them was the Rajmata, it was close.
They also seemed disheveled; her immediate thought was
neither had changed while she had freshened up and
changed.

"Come, beti," invited the Queen Mother pre-empting any

questions from the Queen of the Kingdom. "You have come
in at just the right time."

"She has no idea how well timed her entry is," thought Samar
Singh to himself as he bowed and backed out of the Royal
tents on still-quivering legs.

The Rajmata (Queen Mother) sat behind the thin veil of a

curtain and watched as her daughter-in-law, the Maharani
spread herself out under the looming figure of Samar Singh,
the Chief of the Royal Guard.

Samar Singh, just twenty years old and a virgin had been
drafted by the Rajmata (Queen Mother) to impregnate
Maharani Samyukta. The lad was a battle-scarred veteran of
many a battle, but a complete novice at what he was about
to do. His forearms and chest had cuts and nicks but his back
was free of marks of any woman having clawed him in the
desperation of her orgasmic burst.

"This has to go well," thought the 46 year old widowed

Rajmata, grimly. "It has to be clinical, quick and she must
become pregnant in just this one encounter."

The King was impotent and this was the time tested fix for
the problem; spiriting the Queen away to the Himalayan
ashram of a sage. What was different was that instead of the
sage being prevailed upon to beget the kingdom a successor,
the Chief of Guards had been asked by the Rajmata to do the
deed. Her logic was simple; the seed and graft with a warrior
clan would produce a better heir than the product of an
intellectual with soft hands. She wanted to stabilize the reign
of her young son, whose own succession had been shaky.

The choice of Samar Singh over the sage was her very own,
very private decision. The sages were preferred for they were
ascetic, unattached and there was no scope for any
complications. Complications could arise from the biological
father resurfacing; emotional bonding between the Queen
and the impregnator; political machinations and so on. For all
these reasons, from time immemorial, Indian Kingdoms had
preferred to have the problem solved by approaching sages
and ascetics who were well disposed towards their particular
kingdom. Royalty and the Spiritual gurus knew each other for
generations. While the sages were not celibate, they
followed a prescribed way of life which never crossed paths
with the rest of the world. And thus the insurance against
complications.

The Rajmata sighed. Samar Singh had grown up in front of

her. He was the King's playmate of childhood days. His father
was the General of the Army; the head of their family had
been so for generations. So would Samar Singh, after his
father's time, become the General.

It had not taken much time to convince the lad of his duty
towards kingdom in impregnating the Maharani. The Rajmata
expected no less from the loyal soldier; he came from a clan
and family that had served the Royal Family well. But the
quick acceptance of the proposal sowed the seed of doubt in
her mind; would Samar Singh be as clinical as she had
instructed him to be? Would he avoid caresses, touching and
lingering kisses? Would he avoid the prolonging of pleasure?
Finally, she had decided to be a silent spectator to the deed,
ensuring that neither soldier nor the queen would be
sidetracked by lust.

It was indeed corrupting and she reflected on the wisdom of

the ages in entrusting this delicate task to the spiritually
inclined ascetics. She found herself wondering whether she
had erred; even her own son did not know she had different
plans.

The ascetics were reputed to do the same deed differently.

Her mind wandered back to the account rendered by one of
the elderly maids in her own mother's palace. That lady had
been part of an entourage in another principality, where the
queen had been dispatched to get an heir after that king had
been discovered impotent. These things were done very
quietly with just a handful in the know, for the impotence of
a king was political dynamite. If a king was to be a strong
ruler, how could he be impotent? The psychology of the
masses of those who were ruled was such. And so, there was
no direct knowledge; just the grapevine and the gossip
circles.

The Rajmata had been a young princess at the time, being

educated at her mother's place in the art of statecraft. It was
during one of those sessions that the salacious bit on the
impregnation by a sage had been disclosed.

He sat in deep meditation, she was told. They married and

had sex only for procreation, never for pleasure. They
measured their spiritual powers by restraint and by capturing
the vitality of their own living being through yoga and the
forsaking of every thing material.

It was not that they repressed desire; they never allowed it

to overcome them. They felt it come to them as their bodies
are of flesh. But in their yogic state, they observe their own
reaction and behavior as an outsider might observe them. As
they watched themselves, they developed the power to
control themselves. It was not about repression and
avoidance. It was about acknowledgement and harnessing.

That power, sexuality being the most potent of the powers,

when harnessed, led to spiritual awareness, growth and
sublimation.

Some engaged in tantric sex as the path to sublimation. They

drifted on the darker side of spirituality. At that fringe, there
were those who used powers to perform magic and use their
power to manipulate, destroy and command.

But the yogis at the ashrams were not on The Dark Side. The
kingdoms wouldn't patronize such an ashram. The oldest
ashrams had already conquered and therefore could not be
attracted by material blandishments. They had age-old
alliances with specific kingdoms. And for these yogis,
sexuality was something they commanded; it did not
command them. That is why sending a queen to a sage was
acceptable. But it was fascinating to hear of how it was done.

And that old maid had told them.

"He sat cross-legged, deep in meditation. It was an appointed

time so when we entered his space we were surprised to see
him in meditation. On hindsight, it was silly to have expected
a bed or something like that," she recalled, with all the
wisdom and nuance of a woman that had experienced the
world.

"Our Queen was a fragile, delicate beauty. She was

overwhelmed by his presence, but also by the complexity of
the task at hand; she was expected to subject herself to him
and be impregnated. She was quivering with tension and
knew not how to progress."

"The ladies of the ashram held her and led her up to where
the yogi sat. The Queen had her hands folded in supplication
to the spiritual master. The women gently slid the well-
tucked cloth around her waist and the several yards of cloth
wrapped around her unraveled. It didn't quite fall to the
ground, but we all dropped our eyes instinctively. We had
seen her nude so often while bathing, massaging and
soothing her. But that day, it didn't seem right."

"Her bodice remained where it was, her breasts held in the

restraining confines of the band of cloth around her chest.
The lady did not know what to expect. The yogi remained
seated with eyes shut. They moved her forward so that she
was now directly in front of him, up close. His head was at
the level of her groin. The two women on either side of the
queen continued to walk towards the yogi, crossing him, still
gently holding the Queen in their grip."

"The only way the queen could have continued to retain her
balance was to spread her legs. She instinctively understood
what was expected of her. Her hands continued to be folded
in prayer and she now closed her eyes. Her ankles grazed his
knees because he was sitting cross legged and his knees
jutted out. She came to stand over him, feeling the stray
whiskers of his long beard tickle the insides of her thighs. If
they had walked further, her groin would have been at his
forehead. But they didn't walk."

"She was now trembling. She did not know what was
expected of her. She felt the cool breeze of those Himalayan
climbs caress her most private parts. Her eyes were full of
tears. Her face was red. She was ready to turn and flee. She
might well have any moment then, when they gently pressed
her shoulders down, willing her to sit."

"She bent her knees to comply and come down to the level of
where he was sitting. As far as she could make out he was
still sitting unmoved. Scared as she was she quickly opened a
narrow slit in her eyelids to see what he was doing. He was
doing nothing."

"We were all transfixed; no one had been asked to leave, no

one had been told any rules of engagement. It was as if we
were not there. My body was burning as with head bowed,
but eyes straining upward I could see that she was straddling
him and standing in front of him. The space was lit only with
dim diya lamps (small oil lamps). The light and shade contrast
in illumination was dramatic, even if dim. And I saw our
Queen bend her legs and lower her body. We could see the
legs spread dramatically. I am sure if he had opened his eyes,
he would have seen her gaping yoni (cunt). But his eyes were
shut."

"What was to happen next? What use an open and waiting

yoni in front of a meditating and austere ascetic? She
continued to lower her body. The two women on either side
supported her to help keep balance. One hand was on the
small of her back and the other between her shoulder blades.
Suddenly, the hand which was passively on the small of her
back, gently pushed forward."

"She gasped loudly as her pubic hair caressed the outline of a

bobbing lingam (penis) and the gates of her yoni scraped the
monster. Arising from between his legs was a lance of flesh,
bobbing and bouncing at an upward pointing angle.
Instinctively, she drew up her knees, and her bottom
descended into the receptacle of his lap. Equally involuntary
was her guttural groan when the lingam speared her. It was if
she had fallen on a sword and it had pierced her being."

"In one fluid movement, her ass had snugly fit into his lap. It
was another matter that the snug fit had placed her at a
point where her yoni was splayed open and his lingam had
stabbed into her as far as her womb. There was no
obstruction from his thighs, while he still sat cross-legged.
Her legs were raised and crossed his waist. The hands which
were folded in supplication were now clutching at his
shoulders.
They were no longer needed to be folded to indicate her
reverence for him; she had subjected herself in the most
primeval way."

"She held on to the powerful shoulders waiting for a thrust

which never came. Her wet lips were parted in expectation of
a kiss that was never planted. Her breasts ached for the
pressing of his chest which never happened. Her yoni walls,
held open thus, spread apart by the impossibly large lingam,
watered, the way an eye might water if it has not blinked.
She felt herself pour out in an unexpected but inevitable
sexual response. She felt herself running like a stream, down
past their point of coitus, the fluid tickling her ass as it
dripped off into a puddle below them."

"The Queen told us everything. She recounted this

experience over and over again. She never got over it. She
had never been fucked by a man so virile. She had never felt
so massively plowed upon. And she had never felt so much
with no movement. And no man had ever controlled himself
in this fashion. She confessed in her bedchamber afterwards
to us to having conquered many, before and after marriage.
But none had ever been like this. Indeed, she even confessed
that this one experience had left her a hungering soul,
searching for the experience once more. The yogi would'nt
turn and look at her. And no man ever felt that way again.
But that was not for the want of her trying."
"She could not stop repeating what happened to those of us
who were in her inner circle. And none of us could ever after
be touched by a man without comparing and imagining what
our queen had experienced with the yogi."

"Even though he did nothing, it felt as if his lingam had

swollen in proportions after it had entered her. She felt a
hum, a vibration in the monster embedded in her. It was if
that pillar of flesh was talking to the sheath that
encapsulated it. She quivered, trembling on the brink of what
she thought might be an orgasm! Impossible! He had not
moved; it could not be an orgasm."

"As the vibration built up inside her, she wiggled her hips.
She wanted. Scraping. Riding. She wanted to be mauled. She
didn't want to melt away in orgasm. She wanted it to be
torrential. Her sexual instincts told her to heave and fuck the
cock in her; that was how torrential orgasms were
experienced. Ride. Touch. Scrape. Grind. Pound. But no,
move as she might, she could not get him to fuck back."

"She was now desperate. She wriggled her legs free of the
hands of the women who held her apart and propped her up.
She locked her legs around his back. Her arms went around
him and her hands wrapped around his neck. She hoisted
herself up, giving up the depth of his penetration for control
over his lingam. Her yoni was trained. She knew how to fuck.
She did'nt want conversation between yoni and lingam; she
wanted a duel. She wanted to fuck. She wanted to conquer
him. "

"She ground down with her hips on the cock below. She
bounced up and down in loud grunts and squeals. She was
oblivious to the surroundings and to those of us who were
there to lend gravitas to a serious matter of State. She only
knew the lingam in her and the pleasure it promised her. She
worked and twisted her yoni on it seeking pleasure and
seeking the conquest of the unconquerable."

"She was delighted when his hands gripped her bottom,

fingers digging deep into the flesh of her ass. She felt
conquest within reach. But her delight gave way to despair as
he held her firm, rendering her unable to move. 'Feel.
Experience. Watch," he commanded her, his eyes opening at
last. The power in them was visible, obvious and she felt
unable to disobey."

"Her face went red as a beetroot with shame and

embarrassment. The object of her veneration had become
the object of her lust. When he opened his eyes he was
talking to the lustful woman in her. She half expected to be
reproached. But all he had said to her was to experience. It
was as if he sanctioned her the pleasure, but by different
menas. He closed his eyes again."

"She whimpered as her impending orgasm dwindled. And

then gasped as she felt the lingam grow; yet again. She
smiled as she felt the fullness, she allowed herself a gratified
laugh. She could not care less for either the yogi or the
spectators. Her own desperate desire was the only thing that
mattered. She could not take any more deprivation."

"She was glad it was growing. The pressure on her inside

made up for the lack of movement. She was also glad it was
growing only after entering her. The thought of taking in
something as large as it felt now was scary. She glued her
pubis to his groin, ensuring that if she could not move, at
least she could swallow him whole."

"Once again the lingam started humming and vibrating in the

fullness of its flesh. It was engorged like a balloon at its apex,
there was no way it could take in more; yet energy continued
to pour into the cock. Every cell in the pillar of flesh was
energized and it radiated outward from its base to the
cockhead. To the queen, it felt like rippling movements in the
cock. It was as if every cell at every point on the cock was
caressing and talking to every cell on the wall of her cunt. She
closed her eyes, mind focusing on the conversation between
yoni and lingam."

"She says she could feel him inside her womb. It was as if a
million hands were beating upon a million drums on the walls
of her yoni. The surface of the drums, skins stretched taut,
were vibrating, and resonating to the hands that were
beating on them. Those skins perhaps were akin to the
throbbing tunnel of flesh which was firmly holding the
lingam. Except that this drum was beating back on the hands
that were thumping it. She smiled as she felt her yoni vibrate
back in return."

"It was if the two were vibrating to each other. The lingam's
vibrations responded to the yoni's counter beat. The lingam
resonated to that stimulus. The rhythms of cock and cunt
danced with each other. There was no movement, but at the
level of the cells there was complete rejoicing, jostling,
caressing and grinding."

"She laughed as she felt satisfaction from watching the

performance. His energy radiated from his lingam into her.
She was caught up in his momentum and responded from
somewhere deep within. At some point, both bodies of flesh
started to vibrate on the same frequency and the resonances
merged."

"Suddenly, it was no longer two drums beating against one

another. The skins were moving together. When one curved
outward, the other curved inward. And when one curved
inward the other curved outward. The curves and sinuations
of both drums were matched. They ceased to be two; there
was only one."

"The crescendo began when instead of beating as two, they

merged as one. Vibrations, instead of canceling out, rose to a
crescendo. Their energy fields merged. There was an
explosion. She felt a deep stab of heat, shock and release as
the waves of the explosion radiated beyond the amalgam of
yoni and lingam. She always maintained that it was not two
explosions. It hit her being. She flailed. Her nervous system
was staggered by the electric release of charge let into her
system. In the high voltage shock that ensued, all control was
lost. Her nails dug in, drawing blood. Her head lolled about,
thrown back. Saliva brimmed at her wet and open lips. Eyes
rolled about in her head. Her hips jerked and convulsed, the
wet masses of flesh sliding ineffectually."

"He did not stir, nor talk, nor blink. She blabbered. She called
out to god, to her mother and to him and pleaded to be
fucked. She banged against him aimlessly. She sobbed, tears
running down her cheeks. She screamed and hollered, her
voice carrying to the bachelor quarters at the far end of the
ashram and the mountains beyond. Her hips ground down on
him and she moaned and babbled like an insane woman. She
beat her body against his chest till her physical energy was
drained. And when she could do no more she fell back."

"Her bottom was in his lap and she lay on the floor in front of
him. Her legs were splayed open, heels on the floor behind
him, knees up. His cock, once jutting upward, was now pulled
downward embedded as it continued to be in the body lying
on the floor in front. The energy from his lingam continued to
flow to her. She lay, drained, occasionally twitching or
thrashing as waves continued to lash her. From the flood of
semen in her, from the openness of her own womb to him,
and from the stab of heat she just knew that the mission was
accomplished. She had been impregnated."
"Experiencing the yogic power of another was such; the
woman lay in front of him drained from having released as
much energy as he had for a brief moment. He could
continue, she could not. That surge from her to match him
came from drawing on resources she did not know existed.
And now came the exhaustion. Even as she luxuriated in the
tremors and aftershocks of the main orgasm, she passed out.
The yogi sat there impassively. When the erection receded
and slipped out of her, she slid to the floor. We silently
gathered our satiated and consummated queen in our arms
and withdrew, leaving the sage to his meditation," the old
maid had concluded.

The Rajmata had often wondered in her princess years if she

would ever experience a similarly sublime form of sex. But
her own husband had no problems impregnating her and the
Kingdom had exploded in ten days of feasting and rejoicing in
the news from the palace. And yet their son now had this
problem and she had chosen for her own daughter-in-law a
less exotic method. Such was the reality of palace politics.

The gasp that shook the Rajmata from her reverie was not
from those distant memories. It was from her daughter-in-
law, who had just discovered that the Chief of Royal Guards
was a good deal thicker in his endowment than the
Maharaja.
That gasp was the signal for the Rajmata to assert her
authority over the deed that was being undertaken.
No gasps, no exploration, no desires. It was her job to make
sure that he just made her pregnant and walked away with
no lingering feelings or plans.

Setting her jaw with determination, she turned her attention

back to the fully clothed couple who had strict instructions
from her on how to go about this with clinical precision.
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.

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, 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. 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.)

"lekin..." started Samar Singh in false protest, his dripping

cock betraying the true state. (But...)

"Lekin kuch nahi. Ye mera adesh hai. Samar Singhji, aap

Maharani Samyukta Devi ko naa nahi keh sakte!" she
commanded him. (No buts. These are my orders. Samar
Singhji, you cannot refuse Maharani Samyukta Devi).

Perhaps that was the justification he awaited. Samar Singh

moved slowly, his hands claiming both breasts. In his full,
rough and large hands they seemed like having arrived at
their destination. Samyukta sighed. Circling the nipples he
left them free, building them back into upward pointing
knobs. He kneaded her with vigor, moving the mounds of
flesh in large circles.

Samyukta nodded eagerly in acceptance and encouragement.

"Haan, Samar Singh ji. Pyaar ki jiye mujhe. Jo karma hai
kariye. Tab tak hi hamara dhyan goad bharne par nahi ja
sakta. Na mera, na apka. Le jiye mujhe. Unhe chhodo. Un par
dhyan mat dena. Who nahi samjhengi. Na meri halat na
aapki." (Yes, Samar Singh ji. Make love to me. Do what you
have to do. till then, we cannot pay attention to what we
have to do; not me, not you. And don't pay attention to her,
she cannot understand your situation nor mine.)

By the time the soft small hands with slender fingers reached
for his sticky damp cock, his mind was made up. Samyukta
held the instrument lovingly. It felt full and swollen as ever. It
was half dried and stained with her and his juices. As her
hand slid up and down, the stickiness gave way to a new
wetness. That wetness belonged in her cunt. With the
lubrication she could contemplate impaling herself on the
monster. Her eyes looked at him beseechingly.

Samar Singh's powerful hands went under the skirt and

cupped her ass and he lifted her back up onto his thighs. As
he speared his cock into her cunt, her legs locked behind his
back, crossing at the ankles. Samyukta threw her head back
and moved her cunt on a plane parallel to the ground below,
sliding back and forth and on the slab of flesh.

Her anklets tinkled in rhythm and slowly increased as in

tempo as she rode him with a vengeance.

"Maharani Sahebaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! "he cried out as he

gave in to his desire. He now wanted to ravage her with the
full strength of his passion. But not here, not in front of the
older woman.

"Samar Singh ji! Take me, yes! You deserve this and more.
You don't have to prove your loyalty to anyone. Or in any
other way. Just take me, naaaaaah!" she sobbed.

Both were perspiring now despite the chill of the evening and
their faces touched, smearing each other. Samyukta sighed
loudly in contentment as he matched her thrust for thrust,
with comparable vigor. It was like he was riding his steed.
The filling from the broad slab of flesh and raking she was
getting was soul filling. The Maharaj was no match for his
guard, she thought, irreverently.

She leaned back, allowing the cockhead to get all the impact
of Samar's thrusting. And then she leaned forward grazing
her clit on the sliding slick rod.

"I," he gasped, "am on the brink. Oh! Ah!

Samyuktaaaaaaaaaa!i don't want this to end! No! No! No!
No!" he begged. Each 'no' came after both had slammed into
each other. Each ' no' was a convulsion. Each 'no' was one
thrust closer to his meltdown.

Now it was inevitable. Maharani Samyukta consoled her

lover. She ran her fingers through this hair and said, "Sh! Shh!
It's okay," she soothed him, her heels holding them close
together. Samar Singh slid a hand between them, and
gripped her breast. He twisted and mauled the flesh, sending
Samyukta to a high as well.

"Lie back! Lie back!" urged the Rajmata, glad that she was
around to ensure that the main goal was not lost. She need
the seed drenching the womb and staying there, whereas if
Samyukta was prone over the man, there would be a
maximum outflow.

Samyukta leaned back, putting her hands to the floor behind.

The magnificent breasts jiggled and Samar Singh just needed
to mouth those beauties. His hand slid down from the
breasts to her stomach. He placed his palm on the stomach,
and below there was his penis throbbing pulsating inside her,
seeking to place life in there. He slid a hand lower and going
past the waistline of the skirt, he came to the forest of pubic
hair and found the clit.

When he touched and stroked it, Samyukta sucked in her

breath and trembled. She fell back and he fell on her.
Samyukta wrapped her legs around him and hammered
Samar Singh's buttocks.

"Fill her," exulted the mother-in-law.

Samar Singh held those breasts in his merciless grip and

supported his body on the Queen below.

"Take!" he screamed, "Here it comes! My darling! My

Samyukta! My Queen! Yaaaaaaaaaah!"

"Yes, yes, yes, fill me, my love" sobbed Samyukta, tears

streaming from her eyes. Her hands ran through Samar's
hair, stroking his back. She felt very emotional about the
desire this encounter had unleashed. The restrictions and the
inability of Samar Singh to feast on her seemed unfair. She
wanted to give him more, get more, take more, surrender
more to this truly stud of a man.

The first shot surged out of Samar Singh and Samyukta wept
out aloud, "Maaa! He has filled me. Oh god! Oh my God!"

Samar Singh had only the faintest recollection of the

Rajmata's instructions on maximizing the spurts. After the
first shot, during which he was deeply embedded in her, he
collapsed on her. For one thing it was his first fuck and then
the setting and the beauty of this woman was completely
overwhelming. He lay on her, his body resting, her breasts
crushed between them and his body jerking and convulsing.
His semen spurted in several shots, some hard, others weak,
some long and flowing, others were minor dribbles.

Samyukta stroked her soldier-lover. She owed him more. She

smiled to herself, feeling his copious cum spread inside her.
The job was done, but there was lot more to finish.

She kissed his ear, nibbling at it. She whispered into his ear
soothing baby-talk and rocked her hips cradling his body into
her own.

As the jerking settled down, both felt a pat on the shoulder; it

was the Rajmata. It was the signal for them to separate.
"Mai aungi," Maharani Samyukta whispered into Samar
Singh's ear. (I will come to you.) The young lad, a virgin no
more, hoisted himself off his Queen. His top, though still on
was drenched as was the Maharani's body, slick with his
sweat. Or was it her's? Perhaps both.

As he lifted himself off, she held him with her heels and
smiled at him knowingly. His weapon had barely lost any
volume, in fact it was hard as ever.

"My God!" she whispered as the pillar caressed her on its

way out. "Ummmmm!" she moaned as she felt a thrill from
the touching.

The Rajmata delicately covered her daughter-in-law's breasts

pulling together the ripped front panels of the blouse.

Samar Singh propped himself up and drew himself out.

"Really," whispered Samyukta.

"What?" asked the Rajmata.

The Maharani shamelessly slid her hand down and with

forefinger and middle finger measured the thickness of
Samar Singh's unflagging erection as it slid through her
finger.
"See! He is hard and thick as ever," she remarked, her voice
full of admiration.

"Ab aap jao!" ordered the Rajmata sharply to Samar Singh as

her eyes fixated on the cum coated slab sliding out of her
daughter-in-law's cunt. "Lucky bitch," she caught herself
thinking of her son's wife. Even as Samar Singh responded to
the order, both women abandoned all discretion and eyes
latched on to the hard, unrelenting cock as it swung to and
fro.

Maharani Samyukta allowed her fingers to linger and the

cock to gently slip from her hand. Rajmata stared, wondering
about the boy's 'availability' later that night. As they watched
transfixed, Samar Singh gathered himself. He left the tent
with the dhoti hastily wrapped around his waist. As was the
custom, he walked away from them backing out of the tent,
never turning his back to them.

Mother-in-law and daughter-in-law enjoyed the scene of the

tenting of cloth between his legs to the very last moment.

It was now the Queen Mother's job to be custodian and

caretaker of the carrier of the kingdom's heir; if the
impregnation was successful. Something about the virile and
energetic performance she witnessed told her it was a
success.
She was not sure what woke her up, but something disturbed
the Rajmata later that night. It had been a crazy night. She
had spent an hour earlier that evening supervising her
daughter-in-law's impregnation by the Chief of Royal Guards.
It had gone reasonably as per plan but both the young lad
and the queen had been overcome by lust.

The Rajmata could appreciate the feelings of both, but she

had given them strict instructions. In a sense, both had
disobeyed her even if it was only the heat of the moment.
She could do nothing to stop him from manhandling the royal
breasts. She could do nothing to stop the Maharani from
beating her heels on the soldier's ass as he lay embedded in
her.

"Well, could I have stopped her cunt from gushing? Or him

from being extra hard for her!" she thought to herself. There
were limits to intervention in such situations. Still, things
appeared to have gone reasonably well. Both loyal solider
and daughter-in-law had responded to their sponsor and
pulled themselves back when she ordered them to do so
once the deed was done.

After lust had receded, Samar Singh had responded with

sanity and obeyed her orders. She gave him no time to linger
with the Maharani.

But the images of his sweating body and the rock hard
erection even after the fuck, lingered in her mind. Maharani
Samyukta's wild response made her jealous; she imagined
how that broad weapon of assault must have felt inside her
daughter-in-law for that woman to behave with so much
wanton display of pleasure. All these images lingered and the
Rajmata allowed her own hand to snake down and stroke her
own folds to a decidedly unsatisfying, but make-do orgasm.
And sleep washed over her tired body.

But this storm woke her up, for the entire tent was shaking.
After lying there a while and wondering about masturbating
once more she realized this shaking was not accompanied by
a roaring wind. There were sounds, tinkling, but most of all,
the shaking itself was steady, to a rhythm.

She moved out of her section of the tent to the adjoining

section where her daughter-in-law was asleep to see if
everything was all right.

She spotted them at the far end of the tent, in the private
area meant for the Maharani's dressing.

Rajmata could see the hands under woman's buttocks

holding her up, but the vision of the conjoined couple was
covered by the darkness of night. Samar Singh walked,
staggering away from the Rajmata, his back to her, looking to
escape to a different corner of the tent with his booty. The
jiggles from his stumbling walk were pleasurable but
Samyukta needed a hammering after this tortuous wait for
pleasure. She hoisted herself on his shoulder and drove down
on his rigid cock. The knobby irregular contours touched
every spot. She changed angles and banged down.
She laughed out as the pleasure washed over her. Her
breasts rubbed up and down on his bare chest. At last the
two lovers had found each other nude. Skin grazed skin and
hands were free to reach anywhere for anything.

Maharani Samyukta had crept into his tent and lain alongside
him. With focus, her hand had straight reached for his groin
and found his erection. It seemed never to have wilted in all
the hours that had passed. Samar Singh had tossed about in
his bed thinking of his wonderful Maharani, her beautiful
breasts, that suckable cunt, the curves. The erection just
wouldn't go away and he didn't want to masturbate. What
had she meant when she said she would come to him? Was
that tonight? If yes, he didn't want to squander the chance by
masturbating. As he lay thinking of all this he fell asleep.

He awoke to find his asset a captive in the small hand of Her

Highness. She whispered in his ear. "If we are going to take
care of this," she said as she fondled the monstrous cock, " it
has to be in my tent. I don't want Rajmata sounding general
alarm because I am missing."

Unable and unwilling to protest, Samar Singh pushed her

hand away to get up. But Samyukta pulled aside his dhoti and
covered his cock with her mouth.

"Maharani!" protested Samar Singh, "What is this? How can

you do this?"
"Samyukta," she replied, "not Maharani. You want your fill –
only Samyukta can provide it."

Her head sank back to the task. She covered him with saliva
and fucked his cock with her lips. Samar Singh watched in
unbridled lust as his Queen's hair fell over, covering the sight
of her puffed up cheeks sucking in his cock.

As she slowly pulled herself off, long streaks of his precum

ran from her lips to his cock. She made loud smacking noises
and grabbed his cock in her fist. Now she walked, forcing him
to follow her closely.

The Queen was behaving like a slut.

When they reached her tent, she leaned up to kiss him on his
lips and slid hands under his top. He tasted himself on her
lips and as she pulled off his dhoti, he undid the cord of her
skirt and let it slip to the floor.

Samyukta raised one leg over his hip as she opened her
mouth to suck him in. He dueled back with his tongue.
Samyukta's top was a blouse just knotted under her breasts
and he undid that, leaving the blouse on her shoulder.
Tenderly, his fingertips teased the breasts.

Soon, he had to raise his hands over his head so she could
slip off his shirt over the top off his head. Now they were
nude for each other as nature had meant them to be.

As Samar Singh's hand went under Samyukta, she hefted

herself up and was soon perched on his hips. She opened
herself and snagged his cockhead between her lips. She
wiggled her hips and sank down. His cook was painfully hard
and she chuckled. "You're large, you animal." she said only
half jokingly.

Maharani Samyukta had discovered the pleasure seeking slut

in herself. No sooner had her cunt juiced up enough to
accommodate the invasion she commenced bouncing up and
down on the cock.

The warrior in Samar Singh was not willing to passively let the
woman take him. But she was going like a wild beast with no
stopping.

His strong powerful hands lifted her off and he pulled her up
till the head was just inside her dripping tunnel. He paused
there, to send her a signal that she could not move without
his consent. She wiggled and grunted. "Chhodo, kya kar
rahen hain aap," she wailed. (Leave me, what are you doing?)

"Ab aap kuch nahi karengi. Ab job hi karma hai mujhe hi

karma hai, Maharani Samyukta," he said in a full strong voice,
for the first time speaking authoritatively while using her
name. (Now you will do nothing. Whatever has to be done
will be done by me.)
Holding her firm, he let her weight drive her down, dropping
her on his cock.

"Unhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, haieeeeeeeeeeeee!" she screamed.

Encouraged by that signal of pleasure, he manipulated

Samyukta and pounded her down. For a few minutes, she
could just as well been a clenched fist fucking his cock. There
was only her cunt and his cock. Her cunt was now less
slippery with the fluid flows being less viscous than before. It
made her feel raw and more sensations transmitted from his
flesh to hers.

"Hai! Haan. Aise. Yoon. Bilkul. Fuck me. Fuckk. Fuckkkkkkk!

She blabbered.

He felt her nipples run on his chest and now wanted to suck
on them. He simply had to have her. Those heaving, jutting
breasts were asking to be milked, nibbled, and eaten. He
bent his head, moving his hands further up her back. That
way, she could lean back without being nervous of falling
over and he could bury his face in her chest.

Samyukta's arms reached out and found the tent pole in one
hand and a tethering cord of the tent in another hand. She
hoisted herself upward. She now propped herself up so she
could counter attack him. She fucked downward, lifting
herself off using her newfound supports. What she had not
realized was the ropes and tent pole were transmitting the
rhythm of their fucking to all of the tent. The Rajmata was
now watching from one corner of the tent.

Samar Singh's lips found their target in the breasts and he

sucked in the juts of flesh, sliding them in and out. Samyukta
wiggled her hips as Samar's fucking slowed. The breasts slid
in and out of his mouth coated in saliva.

"Chodo, chodo!" she screamed frantically, to make sure he

knew he had slowed down. The use of the coarse words
shocked Samar Singh. (Fuck me! Fuck me!)

It also shocked the Rajmata. Her doubts on whether to

masturbate evaporated as jealous lust gripped her own body.
She felt her breasts inflame as she saw Samar Singh consume
her daughter-in-law's breasts. And now when she heard her
beg in the rawest words to be fucked she felt intensely
jealous. Her pussy which had been dormant for years since
her husband's demise was now submissive jelly.

Bent to her breasts and savoring both, Samar Singh could not
simultaneously fuck with his hips effectively. The desperate
Maharani hoisted herself up further using the tent pole and
the ropes. "Unhhhh. Haaah. Choddddoooooo!" she implored
as she took her pleasure from the pole inside her.

As Samyukta hitched herself forward to drive her own body

downward, Queen and Soldier embraced each other fully.
Over her shoulder, Samar Singh's eyes locked with those of
the shocked Queen mother. Her plan seemed to have gone
horribly wrong. She now was at the mercy of her daughter-
in-law whose sexual chemistry was in a spiraling meltdown.

The alternative was to intervene and physically stop things.

But the Rajmata's own confidence was low because of her
intense arousal at the unfolding saga of lust . Her
protestations were at a superficial level. Her own cunt was
slippery with juices. She did not have the guts to go near
Samar Singh in this state. It was perhaps the single biggest
factor holding her back.

With eyes on the Rajmata, Samar Singh's hand roamed the

Queen's bare sexy back. He stroked and caressed every cell in
his lover's body, awakening the body even more fully to the
possibilities of a complete meltdown. Samyukta held his head
now.
Fully over him, and luxuriating in his upward thrusts, she
joined him with downward thrusts. His strong, powerful
hands held her up and pulled apart her asscheeks spreading
her cunt as wide as it would go. It also helped him in plunging
her down on his marauding cock.

"Aaaaaaaaaah!" shuddered Maharani Samyukta from the

plundering.

The Rajmata imagined the thick monster that she had held
and fondled plundering her hapless daughter-in-law. "Beta,
dekh ke!" she blurted out spontaneously. (Son. Careful).

Samyukta's head whipped around in shock as she realized

they had been discovered. Her eyes met those of her
mother-in-law. She let her heels drop as if to get off Samar
Singh. Her cunt had different ideas as it slid on the slimy,
messy sheath within her. The change in angle of her legs
merely served to slant her clit downward. The cock reamed it
and Samyukta broke out into a sob.

She felt trapped between her mother-in-law's accusing gaze

and the uncontrollable fluttering in her womb.

Samar Singh continued to fuck his queen with energy. The

Rajmata had only asked him to be careful; she had not
admonished him. As the Maharani seemed to slide lower, he
placed her on the dresser table. The Queen was now seated,
her cunt wide open and the Soldier was laboring between
her legs. In the mirror of the dresser, Samar Singh saw the
Rajmata. There was no expression of shock or disapproval.
Samar Singh could only see jealousy and envy in her eyes.

Maharani Samyukta was glad for being seated on the dresser.

It covered her from her mother-in-law, her earlier position
being of an ass splayed wide open and she riding and heaving
as if Samar Singh was a pony. She gratefully opened her legs
wide again and brought them around Samar Singh's ass. Her
hands gripped his shoulder blades as she fucked him back.
This had been her idea to reward the loyal soldier; no half-
measures would do. She did not look over his shoulder at the
Rajmata who was standing behind him.

The Rajmata felt guilty. She inferred her son, the Maharaja's
fucking, was not in the same league Chief of his guards. She
herself had introduced her daughter-in-law to a real stud to
have her impregnated. The Rajmata herself had responded to
Samar Singh's well proportioned cock. In her imagination she
had visualized how much intensity a cock of that pleasurable
thickness would create in her cunt. How could she blame the
younger woman, who had actually had that cock ream her?
Was it fair to expect a completely clinical fuck? If anything,
her attempt to make the first fuck clinical was what had led
to this explosion of lust and the second fuck she was now
witnessing.

She moved close to the heaving, moaning couple. She

wanted to assuage her guilt. But she also thought an officially
sanctioned lust-fuck would help eliminate the mystery and
chemistry that had led to this explosive lust.

She moved alongside the couple. Maharani Samyukta

refused to acknowledge the woman alongside. Her
fingernails were raking Samar Singh's sweaty, rock hard chest
as she pleasured this man. Samar Singh looked at the
Rajmata and back at the Maharani, not missing a beat as he
fucked hard, searching for a finish.
Rajmata placed a hand on both their shoulders. He felt hard
and animal, his muscles clenching as he continued to fuck.
She felt soft, sensuous and plundered as her hands felt
Samyukta fluttering and clutching at the being inside her
now.

"Karo. Khatam karo. Get over this and put this behind you,"
she whispered, hands stroking both of them lovingly. Cut
loose further, Samyukta grabbed Samar Singh's face in both
her hands. She kissed him, her tongue pushing his lips apart.
Samar Singh shuddered as he felt the wet snake caress his
mouth. It felt luxurious. Her tongue probed him and she
screamed into his mouth, it was as if she wanted to fuck him
with her tongue the way he was with his cock.

The Rajmata herself was now a quivering mass of flesh. She

would have to use that rounded handle of her hairbrush with
vigor and now. Her eyes took in the sight of Samyukta's
lovely breasts flapping as she fucked. Of them being crushed
when the couple ground into each other, smearing
themselves on one another. She felt herself on the brink of
melting herself and she decided to move off.

It was her turn to be shocked as she felt Samar Singh's

clammy hand grip her wrist stopping from leaving. She
turned around and saw he had one hand holding her, even as
his other was busy holding the queen for a fuck. Samyukta
missed his grip on her. She searched out the missing hand
and when she found it was leading away, she opened her
eyes to see what Samar Singh was trying to do.

Samyukta saw that the soldier was holding back the Queen
Mother. "Samar Singh ji!" she hissed in anger.

She pushed herself back, the entire dresser shaking.

Samyukta looked down, between them, the juice-coated
sheath embedded in her. She let her hand between the two
of them and ringed her index finger thumb around his shaft.
As Samar Singh continued to heave he felt his foreskin pulled
back. He yelped. His hand left the Rajmata's wrist and flew to
control Samyukta's hand before she hurt him with her brutal
manipulation of his cock.

As his foreskin rode back the cockhead bulged. Samyukta

gasped as she felt the knot in her womb. She had his
attention back. Jaw set with determination she slid back and
forth. The hand around his cock wouldn't leave him. The
young man shuddered and thrashed.

The Rajmata had her back to them as she had been stopped
in her tracks. She heard things from the clatter to the floor.
She heard Samar Singh gasp and call out to Samyukta.
"Samyuktaaaaaaaaah! I love you! Mujhe le lo! Bhar do
mujhe. Fuckkkk meeeeeee!" he wailed. (Samyukta! I love
you! Take me! Fill me! Fuck me!).

"Yes my love!" laughed Samyukta in delight. "I am open. I am

yours. I am waiting. Fill me!"
Both the lovers hugged each other tight. Groins mashed
together. Pubic hair meshed together. Flesh pressed upon
hot flesh. Her nipples dug into his hard chest. Lips were
locked. Ass muscles clenched and released as fucking
continued relentlessly.

She wound her legs around his, pressing hard till their bones
felt one another. From there, with a guttural sound she
pulsated and melted upon his cock. He came like a woman.
There was no spurt. There were a series of orgasms and he
straightaway knew what a woman must feel. He felt himself
searing hot, melt into her. He trembled as the spasms rocked
him. There were no jerks of release. He just spread into her.
Her womb trembled in response.

They both laughed. He looked down, eyes taking in her

breasts, sweaty- perhaps his sweat more than hers? Further
down the drenched mess of their union, where cock and cunt
still pulsated. Back to her face, where glistening eyes danced.
They belonged. Once again they embraced each other,
fucking as the orgasmic waves gave way to vibrating bodies.

So long as he was hard, she wanted to continue to receive his

strokes. So long as he was hard he wanted to prolong the
pleasure. He didn't feel himself losing hardness. He lifted her
off, holding her on his hips. She gasped in surprise and
pleasure as cock and cunt found new angles.
He held her there, embedded and slowly knelt down. As he
lay her back, he moved over her, ensuring that his cock never
left its sanctuary. Once they lay on the soft carpet, he shifted
to his left. As they moved to lie alongside each other, he
lifted left leg high over so his cock never left her.

It seemed his erection for Samyukta would never subside.

The soldier and the queen were both exhausted from the
intensity of their serial encounters. Unwilling to let go of his
erection she pulled him in, over her gaping open cunt. Leg
over him, both soldier and queen drifted to sleep, leaving his
flesh, throbbing, pulsating, still inside her. He would slip out
whenever. It was not their concern.

The Rajmata, desperate for relief, left for her own bed. She
needed a bigger release than what she had had earlier. She
wondered whether she had uncorked something which was
unmanageable. In Samyukta and Samar Singh, yes. But also in
herself?

She lay on the stone slab, watching the oil drip from the jar
suspended over her. Maharani Samyukta was in paradise.
The herbal treatment and care in the sage's ashram was
exhilarating. She was well attended in her own palace too.
But the entire ambiance and change in setting in the ashram
brought a whole new level of relaxation to her.

She felt that the enhanced experience was in good measure

attributable to Samar Singh's treatment of her. The sexual
encounters had been vigorous and she had been fucked in a
very physically energetic fashion. Her limbs were delightfully
sore and her cunt felt stretched to new dimensions. She
ached in parts of her body and felt thrills in places she did not
know existed.

And the masseuse, who had been working her body and
massaging oil into her, had expert fingers. The hands of the
woman found the knots and the tension spots and relieved
them. Samyukta felt her body alive and once again aching for
the attentions of her new found man. The masseuse was
playing her body like a flute and she could have indulged in
some sexual relief with her. But she knew Samar Singh was
leaving. This could be her last chance with the stud, whereas
the masseuse could indulge her any other time.

The Rajmata had watched her daughter-in-law and the Chief

of Guards fuck beyond the call of duty. She now had no
doubts that the impregnation would have happened. The
young man had drenched her more than once in his cum. The
Rajmata's own passions were inflamed and she would have
thought nothing of satiating herself with the man young
enough to be her son.

But in the cold light of day, she got hold of herself and
commanded Samar Singh to head back to the Kingdom,
leaving behind the contingent of guards. They were due to
stay at the ashram till the confirmation of the pregnancy. She
would send word for him so he could escort them back. But
for now, he was no longer needed here.

Samar Singh knew why. All night he and Samyukta had slept
in a huddle on the floor of the tent. The Maharani had woken
sometime in the wee hours and this time she had reached
behind her and found him spooned against her. His cock was
semi-erect and had acknowledged her searching fingers.
Samyukta did not turn around. She fisted him to a fullness
and raising her leg, let him slip in from behind. When they
finished her cunt was sore. They were noisy and wild and
once again the Rajmata was disturbed from her sleep.

Both of them had violated the principles laid down by the

Rajmata for the project. It was inevitable that he would be
sent away. Samar Singh was now busy packing his things,
when the Maharani's closest maid, a confidante arrived.

"Maharani Sahiba wants to see you before you leave," she

informed him.

"Where is she?" he asked. He had looked for her and could

not find her and the Rajmata was cold to him and would not
tell.

"She is in the hut at the other end, where herbal treatment is

done," said the maid, blushing. Her mistress was playing with
fire, she knew. The Maharani herself was on fire and she
knew that too. "Samar Singh ji must be a real stud for my
lady to be so far gone," she thought to herself.

Samyukta lay there, her body bare. The masseuse's expert

hands had relieved her of all physical tension but set her
body afire with sexual tension. That man had opened up a
new dimension to her personality; she couldn't get enough of
him. Yes, he was young and strong. But it was more than
that. She couldn't care what it was. She was unhappy he was
going but she could not have done anything about it. They
should have been discreet around the Rajmata. The Rajmata,
having started this, was now being strict about adhering to
the intent and code of conduct she had laid down.

Her body throbbed for the rough hands of the soldier to

massage her in the exact same places where the soft but firm
hands of the masseuse had. And Maharani Samyukta couldn't
wait.

He entered the hut was stunned to see Samyukta lying nude

on the slab. Her body glistened with oil. Her breasts were like
floats on her chest, gravity making them flatten against her
body. One nipple was sidefacing while the other breast was
straight with nipple pointing skyward; both were erect. His
Maharani was magnificent and aroused. His cock jerked in
salute. Ever since her his erection rarely fully subsided. The
only relief was the warm nest of her cunt. Otherwise, the
hardness now ached him.

She sensed he had entered. She turned to her side, raising

one leg with bent knee. She was unmindful of the yawning
gap it caused between her legs and the fact that her pussy
was visible to Samar Singh. She wanted that. "Samar Singhji,
the masseuse has left an incomplete job," she whispered, her
voice hoarse with excitement.

Samyukta weighed up one breast in her hand, caressing her

nipple. She shivered. She beckoned him to come near.

"Maharani Sahiba," he whispered.

"I know how to make you call me Samyuktaaaaaaaaaaaaaa,"

she responded, her hand searching under his dhoti.

She did not grip his cock. Her soft hands merely flitted on the
flesh like a butterfly, feathery kisses from her fingertips to
the cock. He groaned. "Massage me!" she ordered him, lying
back and spreading her legs as wide as she could.

He stared at the lust -- filled woman. He was supposed to be

leaving soon and they were not to be seeing each other. And
here he was drinking in her beauty. Samar Singh reached for
her ankles, leaning with his weight on them. As he looked up
her body he could see the gaping open lips, her breasts
thrust upward and the Maharani looking down at him.

With eyes focusing on the slit between her legs, and

imagining his mouth glued to her cunt, Samar Singh rubbed
her ankles. They were coated in oil and soon his fingers were
slippery too. As he leaned forward his hands slid and he
found himself at her knees. He moved forward to get closer.
Now he was kneeling on the slab between her legs. He ran
his thumbs up her thigh. Samyukta shuddered as he expertly
triggered all the hotspots on her thighs. She raised her knees
slightly opening out to him, her cunt now aching for his
touch.

Both thumbs reached her hips and Samar Singh pushed the
flesh together, pushing the flesh together and up, making a
mound. At the centre of the mound lay her slit, and at the
bottom lay her bubbling clit, now engorged and throbbing.
He moved his hands apart, and her pussy lips separated
again. He now pulled her thigh flesh apart, making the cunt
stretch without his direct touch.

Samyukta groaned, "Samar Singhji!"

Again he pushed the flesh together. Cunt lips kissed each

other and the clit was caught in between. When he rotated
the balls of his thumbs the clit was caught in a grinding
motion. Her pussy belched and a fluid started to flow. This
time when his thumbs moved apart, the gaping lips were
glistening. Yes! He was having the effect he wanted to have
on her! Samar Singh felt himself reddening at his own sense
of satisfaction. His cock was now engorged to its peak level.

Samyukta realized that Samar Singh while inexperienced was

instinctive. Her clit was being massaged and rotated. When
the thumbs came together, the clit was pressed from both
sides. When he pulled her apart her clit was stretched. How
delightful! But why, why did he not stroke the aching flesh
directly? Her hand grabbed his to try and force the issue. She
held his fingers and stroked her cunt with his hand.

Samar Singh pulled back and resumed the teasing rotation of

the clit. Samyukta now felt a tingling in her nipples as the
manipulation touched new spots. Samar Singh leaned back
and forward as he rotated the flesh. Now his face was near
her pussy, and now it was near her breasts. But he never
touched her. When his face came close to her breasts his
cock touched the inside of her thighs. Samyukta felt lines of
electricity shoot from her clit to her nipples.

Her hands flew to her breasts but she was slapped away by
Samar Singh. "Those belong to me!" he barked. She twisted
and turned her head in desperation. She wanted to be
touched but he wouldn't. She wanted to touch herself but he
would not let her. He was torturing her.

Samar Singh now caressed her torso, hands gliding up from

pussy to the base of her breasts. He nudged the pussy and
took a smear of her cunt juice and painted her body with it,
mixing it into the oil. By the time he reached her breasts his
hands were coated with oil. He then dragged the oil down,
drenching her pubes in the lubricant. Samyukta shuddered.
Each time he came so close to her breasts she was sure he
was going to touch her; and then he receded.
Till suddenly, both his hands clasped the breasts. She
moaned and thrust her hips and breasts forward, hoping for
any further contact with him. Samar Singh kneaded the oil
into the globes, the ball of his thumb rolling the flesh.
Samyukta shuddered and her nipples glistened with oil as
they stood as tall as they could. This time, when Samar Singh
withdrew and his nails drew a line to her pussy, the line was
along the path of pleasure.

The Queen flowed shamelessly. Her cunt melted into a

stream of juice which the soldier watched with pride. He had
made her his slave and he enjoyed seeing her helpless with
pleasure. Instinctively he dropped his head to the pussy and a
broad tongue lapped at the wide open lips.

Maharani Samyukta gripped his head in her hands. He was

not to be let go of. She forced his face to stay there and
fucked at him with her hips. Samar Singh lapped up the juices
but his own saliva flowed and added to the mess between
her legs. Then his tongue pointed up and focused on the clit.

She screamed. It was so loud that it seemed to reverberate

and echo from the mountains around. She couldn't have
cared less. She screamed again and again. "Samar Singh
jeeeeeeeeeee!" she yelled, leaving no one in doubt about the
protagonists in this drama of lust.
Samar Singh experimented. He lashed her this way and then
that way.
He noted what made her jerk the most. And then he gently
stroked her incessantly so that she kept jerking with every
stroke.

"Ha. Ha. Ha. Aha. Hai. Ahaaaaa! Haaaaaah!" went the

Maharani as the jerking movements blended with each other
to become convulsions. Her hands pulled and twisted his ears
and she bucked and thrashed. Samar Singh struggled to keep
his tongue on the right spot. But soon enough, it didn't
matter. Samyukta was over the cliff and into the abyss.

"YaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaH!" she hollered as her body took over.

Samar Singh reached up and held her breasts, mauling and
pinching as he tried to hold her body down. Samyukta threw
herself at his face. His fingers tortured her nipples and she
noted in the haze of pleasure in her mind that that too was
pleasure. She beat her body against his head and smeared
her cunt on his face. Samar Singh buried himself in his
Maharani's service.

So when the gushing started he could not have moved. She

was not in control of her body, it just flowed. She couldn't
stop anything. Her body just beat the slab of stone below her
and then his face. Like a pendulum she swung from one to
the other. She twisted, turned, thumped and dug her nails in.
He lapped and slobbered and tongued and drank.
She felt a strong surge in her breasts and it seemed liquid
shot up her nipples. She was surprised when nothing came
out but her nubbins quaked as if they had yielded as much
juice as her cunt.

"You own me! You own me! You own me!" she babbled. "I
am yours! Take! Give! Fuckkkkkkkk" she wailed. As her
bubbling cunt continued its flailing she decided to quell it
with his cock. Where was that monster which fit so snugly in
her womb? Samyukta sat up and reached down to grab his
cock. Her hand found the target, swollen and wet. She
poured oil on it, anointing. Lovingly, she slid her hand up and
down the pillar of flesh.

Samar Singh groaned, "Maharani Sahibaa! Mujhe andar le

lo!" (Take me in.)

She kneeled between his legs. As she planted kisses on it, the
cock bobbed. Samar Singh reached under her and shoved his
fingers into her cunt. It was no use; the channel was wide
open and soaked. He knew only his cock could stretch her
further.

They were both slippery with oil. Samar Singh wondered if he

could grip her well enough to fuck her as hard as she
deserved. Her ass, jutting up gave him an idea. He moved
behind her positioning himself to plunder her from behind.
Maharani Samyukta took the position of a bitch, on all fours,
her hands grippin the edge of the slab so she could brace
herself for an assault.

Samar Singh held his cock and prodded her between the
thighs. Samyukta shuddered as she felt the probing cockhead
search her cunt. It touched in all sorts of places. But she
really panicked when he seemed headed for the wrong
orifice. In urgent haste, she reached under and with
forefinger and thumb pulled the cock lower, to where its
target lay.

"Now push!" she urged him, when the head was well
positioned. Samar Singh rocked forward and found him
sinking to the hilt. His stomach slapped on her ass and
Samyukta grunted.

Samar Singh gripped her hips, willing her to hold still for a
pounding. Samyukta spread her knees apart to invite him in.
Samar Singh hammered in. the slimy juices, the oil, and their
perspiring bodies made it a slippery and messy affair. But the
cock grated along Samyuukta's channel touching her in the
most sensitive of spots. "hah! Hah! Hah!" she went in
ecstasy.

She slid on the oily surface below. His hands struggled to hold
her in place. He himself felt his knees slide backward. And
then it occurred to him; her breasts were perfect handles to
hold and pull her body backward onto his cock.

Her breasts, hanging loose, jiggled with every thrust. They

swung like pendulums and she watched herself with crazed
lust. "Look at how the Maharani is being plundered! Look at
her breasts swinging around. And see that massive flagpole
reaming her!" she marveled.

Just as her nipples started to ache, with impeccable timing,

Samar Singh leaned forward and held both pots of flesh in his
hands. He gripped her hard, willfully hurting her. Holding on
to the breasts as a handle, the fucking became ever more
vigorous. Loud slapping sounds emanated as flesh beat on
flesh. Samyukta decided to fuck back; she did so artfully,
sliding her cunt opening over the cockhead and doing little
else. She compensated for Samar Singh's force with the
subtlety of her angling. As the tender and ultra sensitive head
of flesh felt her "o" sliding over it, he shuddered.

The breasts too were slippery with oil and her sweat. It only
made him grip them fiercely, pinching, mauling and twisting.
It was a battle royale, and Samyukta was apparently getting
the better of it with the expert movement of her sheath over
his weapon.

"Stop" he commanded her, not wanting a conclusion so soon.

She responded with a magnificently timed thrust. Samar
Singh gagged and lost control of his neck muscles. His head
flailed as saliva dripped. Samyukta was ruthless. Her
crescendo was approaching and her cunt was raw from the
assault of the last two days. They had to finish together. She
swayed her hips, teasing and cajoling an orgasm out of him.
Samar Singh exploded into her. As his seed poured into her, it
flowed back, dripping to the slab below. Samyukta watched
his hands clenching her breasts, fingers white. Her nipples
felt raw from his clutching but pleasurably so. She was his to
be plundered and she wanted him to leave body marks on
her. Perhaps her breasts would carry delicious bruises of his
attention to them. She looked beyond and saw his thighs
quivering. She thrust back artfully, making his cock quail in
submission.

He was now supine over her, his monstrous appellation now

a throbbing, reducing jut of flesh. She went at the head,
giving him waves and waves of pleasure. As the spasms
washed over him, Samar Singh felt his eyes droop. He was
beside himself. He had drooled all over her back. He had
spilled deep into her. His cock was subjugated. It continued
to be semi hard; but he was spent for now.

The aftershocks of his orgasm receded to mild tremors. He

slid off her back and lay on the floor next to his Queen. A
hand idly held her breast as he felt sleep wash over him. The
queen was hardly in a position to appreciate the
ministrations of hands on her breasts; she was watching in
horror as her mother-in-law once again appeared at the
scene of their copulation.

She looked below and noted her cunt was still dripping. This
was certainly not the position the queen mother had wanted
to guarantee impregnation.

The Rajmata gave a curt wave with her head to instruct the
Maharani to be gone. These two had become animals in lust
and clearly she could do no more to stop them. She was glad
she had asked Samar Singh to leave that day. Enough fucking
had happened in the last 48 hours. And the Rajmata knew he
was a big cummer. Surely the Maharani would be found
pregnant. There was no need to wait and watch.

Clearly, the Maharani could just not keep herself off that
cock. As her daughter-in-law gathered her unraveled robes
and left, the Rajmata focused on the young man who was in
slumber on the slab.

Or more precisely, on his cock.

For two days she had seen that cock retain its hardness
despite the marauding fucks she had witnessed. And now
there it was, glistening with oil and Samyukta's juices. It was
nearly completely erect, though a slight droop could be
detected.

"This is my last chance," she thought. After this it was back to

the palace and its limitations, not to mention the duties of
state that awaited her.

The strong young man was on his back and his cock was
pointing upward. With a little help she could make him
ramrod hard again, she felt. The Rajmata raised her skirts as
she straddled the supine body. She waggled her way up to his
hips and her pussy was agape over his cock.

She sank down and with a long, shivering sigh; she sank down
on her son's childhood companion, the Chief of Royal Guards.
The youngster deserved her; she smiled to herself as she
wiggled her hips to take in all of the girth. She slid down
easily. Partly the oil, partly her daughter-in-law's juices and in
part Samar Singh's cum. The mix of lubricants sent a thrill
down her spine.

"I am going to show this youngster what fucking is!" she

thought to herself as she prepared for a soul satisfying ride.

She unknotted her blouse and let her jugs of flesh hang free
for him to feast on if he so desired.

With her hands resting o n his chest, the Rajmata propped

herself up at an angle from which she could pound his cock
to complete submission. As she poised herself to break into a
rhythmic fucking, she felt blood racing through her body as
every cell came alive. She waited; eyes closed, cock
embedded deep in her womb and her womanliness clasping
his manliness. She savored the moment. It had been years
since she had felt a full, pulsating cock ensconced in her cunt.
He was full, round and packed her to the hilt.

Her head was thrown back and she was perfectly still,
outwardly. Her breasts, with the blouse hanging open were
like mountains rising from the smooth and gentle vale of her
chest. Her hands were on his chest, nipples gently held
between thumb and forefinger and nails touching his skin.
Her own skin was radiant from the flush of blood flowing
with a new energy. She felt connected to a new energy
source. It came from him, but it now lay within her.

Everything looked completely still; but if one looked in the

right places nothing actually was. Her lips were quivering
ever so slightly as if silently nibbling at the feast within. Her
nipples were humming with a vibrating impulse as her
breasts responded to the cool mountain air and the nipples
expectantly swelled to invite eating. Her lower tummy was
gently fluttering from the pulsations emanating from deep in
her womb. Her thighs were taut with tension and the
muscles there were stretched with an ache to move. She was
like a dew drop at the end of leaf, heavy and ready to fall, but
just clinging on at the very edge. If it let go, it was a long
flowing journey to an endless bottom.

The Rajmata now got ready to rouse the Chief of Guards from
his slumber and start that journey of letting go. She raised
her hips, leaning forward just a bit to get the angle right from
where she could piston him in and out. She gasped as the
cock responded. It had been nearly completely hard when
she swallowed him in her folds. Raising herself off gave it
some space for blood to rush back in and complete his
erection to full strength. "Yes! This is it! See where all he
touches me!" she smiled, her eyes still closed. She wanted to
keep them closed for all the things she could see.

Rajmata was only lightly touching his body as it was. She was
over him but her weight was not resting on him. But where
they were touching, it was deep and magnetic: cock
embedded in an accepting and grateful cunt.

She moved down and up in small thrusts back and forward.

The fluttering tummy and womb started to flutter with
greater frequency. She felt the pillar move all along her
channel giving her relief from years of aching disuse. It felt so
much better that any similarly shaped object she had used.
There was vibrancy, heat and a pulse in the cock which she
could feel very clearly as she rode down him. She wiggled her
hips to examine his contours more closely with her pussy.
The cock had served as a tight plug for her flowing juices.
Now with the pussy twisting around it, the juices escaped,
flowing down the sides and flooding the forest of his pubic
hair.

She laughed gently. The heaving of her insides in the laughing

thrust down her pubic bone and his cock felt a crimping
movement. Involuntarily, Samar Singh's body jumped up in
defense. His hands sprang up and held the sides of her torso
and clasped the sides of her breasts from both sides. Samar
Singh stirred in a daze, wondering if the Maharani was on
him again. But his hands told him her breasts would have
been so easy to touch. Samyukta had smaller breasts and his
thumb could reach the nipple if he was holding the torso but
that's all.

Here, his hands could feel a full mound of flesh. His eyes
opened and in shock he recognized the Rajmata. He tried to
scramble up. Rajmata let her body weight down on him,
pinning him down but in that movement also slamming down
on the cock. The rapid push back of his foreskin caused him
some fleeting pain but that was nothing compared to the
panic he felt.

He tried to push her off but she shifted her hands from his
chest to his arms, pinning him down. That caused her hips to
lift so he tried to push her off by the torso. "Rajmata ji, nahi!"
he pleaded. (No!)

She stayed firm. Even as she felt his cock lose some of its
hardness she pumped herself on it as much as she could, as
rapidly as she could. It pleasured her no end and she was also
hoping it would retain his erection. Samar Singh was stunned
to hear his Queen Mother moaning and grunting. Her breasts
heaved and flopped about, heavy as they were. In his
attempt to grab her body and control her, he touched them
several times, and liked the silky, full sumptuous feel they
had. His eyes stared at the nipples, long and brown,
eminently suckable.

A loud "Ahhh!" and "Huh!" from the woman atop him

brought out of his admiring reverie. Rajmata was reaping the
rewards of her focused fucking. She had been hit by her first,
if minor, orgasm after several years of unsatisfactory releases
of pleasure. Her mind was whirring with the certainty that
she was going to feast on this lad daily upon her return to the
Kingdom. It was doable. After all, discretion had been
negotiated upfront in the matter of impregnating Samyukta.
It was just a question of extending that.

"Me! Me! Me! Me!" she mumbled involuntarily. She was

thinking of she wanted to keep this sexual being to her own
self. Her daughter-in-law was not entitled. She had enough of
various things. This new toy was to be hers and hers alone.

"What?" asked Samar Singh, trying to wriggle out from under

every time she raised her hips. She shook her head in the
negative. It could have been a response to his question or a
response to his attempts to move.

"go on, take them!" she invited him, thrusting her breasts at
him. They were sagging and heavy but with her on top of
him, it just seemed they were gravitating towards him.

"Mai yeh nahi kar sakta!" he pleaded. (I cannot do this!)

"Karna hoga, varna mai tumhare dost, Maharaja sey shikayat

karungi, ke tumne Maharani Samkyukta ko hadd sey zyada
choda," she said breathlessly as she rode the bronco to
pleasure. (You will have to else I will tell the King you fucked
the Queen beyond the limit set for you.)
Samar Singh grunted with pleasure as his cock responded
magnificently and against his wishes to the fucking. She was
good, she knew how. Finally, experience was irreplaceable.
She cork-screwed down on him, pleasuring herself
immeasurably, no doubt, but carrying him with her.

"This is not fair," he complained, his eyes firmly on her body,

which was now riven with the sweat from her efforts. Those
breasts were irresistible, but here was a woman who was his
friend's mother. After all, her son the King and he had grown
up together. There were days when this woman who was
fucking him now had fed them both as they came back from
play. And now she was feeding on him. He felt his body
shudder as she wreaked pleasure on him.

"Neither is this fair," she replied grabbing her own breasts.

She held them gently if firmly, in her hands. She lifted them
and held them up as large melons served on a plate. "Neither
is it fair for you to deny a woman her sexuality."

"You are beautiful and sexy. I don't deny that," he replied,

holding her hands that held her breasts. "But..."

"But nothing," she snapped. "You cannot resist rutting like an

animal with Samyukta. And now your mind is able to control
your cock. Are you insulting me?" she looked down into his
eyes. She was threatening, cajoling, pleading and exciting
him, all at once.
Samar Singh took charge of those lovely breasts. "Isn't this
what you want?" he asked attempting to thrust himself
upward. Her weight prevented that. He pushed up, holding
both monstrous mounds of flesh firmly in his hands. He
pushed up extending his arms, lifting her off him. The tight
grip on her breasts to do this pleasured her immensely. She
laughed down at him and brought her knees to rest, making
his task easier.

With the body held up above him, he thrust upward,

stabbing her with his cock. "Yes!" she gasped. The cock she
had so fondly held in her hands was now jabbing upwards
into her slobbering flesh. He reamed her, with a sawing
motion raking the wide open petals of her lips. Her slimy wet
channel responded to the persistent pistoning of the cock.
She was fully held up in his strong hands. Her own arms hung
down uselessly as she was unable to reach any part of him.
She covered his hands with her own, caressing his fingers.

Her body was suspended in air, held up by his hands gripping

her breasts and her knees balancing the rest of her. Her body
was held open, and like a glacier melting to the warmth of
the summer sun, her body melted to the warmth of his
assault.
. It started as increased wetness and became a running flow.
The Rajmata's eyes were now shut, her face a picture of
concentration. Her mind was focused on the inner being in
her which was being awakened.
In the back of her mind, it registered that her juices were
now co-mingling with the juices of her daughter-in-law. She
had resisted the temptation to feast on this young flesh till
now. And now that she was riding high on the intoxicating
fucking, she could not imagine why she resisted. Her nipples
were wrenched and pulled and she felt being pushed over
the cliff of orgasm; but she was unable to obtain release.

Her face screwed up in a contortion of effort. Her mind

focused hard on the raging climax and she tried hard to
unclench her throbbing cunt. As she tried to let go her pelvic
muscles, she felt a rush of fluids which caused her to clench
her muscles right back. The orgasm evaded her. She screwed
up her face even tighter, scaring the young man beneath her.

He thought the breasts were aching and relaxed his lift on

her body. She slumped forward on to him, her hair covering
both of them completely the soft, fragrant hair felt beautiful
on his face. He allowed it to tickle and tease his skin.

But the Rajmata was a complete contrast; no subtlety for

her- she wanted more and she wanted completion. Her
elbows and knees quickly became the supporting struts on
which to suspend her asking and aching body. "Samar beta!"
she gasped, " Jaldi chodo mujhe. Zor se. Abhi!" (Son fuck me
quickly. Hard. Now!)

To him, the whole zone of the sexual battle was a slushy,

squishy mess with no feelings to his cock. All his feelings
were from watching her sexual release and the tortuous path
to orgasm. He fucked upward and the thumping of his ass on
the stone slab below only became louder. There was, apart
from the oil on his body, also the wet patch on which he
rested. This was the dripping from Maharani Samyukta's
cunt, over which he now lay.

The Rajmata's massive breasts were pressed against his

chest. He held her and felt the back of her blouse hinder his
contact with her skin. He wanted to touch and feel the
mature warm flesh. It felt exciting. Damn the cloth of the
blouse. He slid his hand under but it was too tight. It was
open in the front but the arms were tight. This woman was
full and buxom in her clothes. He wanted to feed on those
lovely luscious breasts.

For her, the only space that existed was deep inside her
where Samar Singh was reaming her cunt with military rigor.
Her lips were at his ears cajoling him and encouraging him
on. "Haan, beta, aise hi. Rani Ma ko chodo. Sukh do unhe.
Unki sej ka sunpana khatam kar do," she pleaded into his ear.
(yes, son, exactly like this. Fuck the Queen Mother. Put an
end to the silence in her bedchamber.)

The wet lips on his earlobe maddened him but two things
which she babbled in her passion scared him. One, the
reference to him still as 'son' and the other the reference to
her bedchamber.
"Aaj job hi kar rahen hai aap, yeh aaj tak hi rehne dijiye!" he
murmured, caressing her head. (What you are doing today
should left at this!).

"No! I can't live without this fucking, you stud!" she slid her
wet lips in and out of his ear and kissed his neck. "Roj chodo
mujhe!" (Fuck me everyday!)

"Par app toh mujhe bhej rahen hai aaj," he reminded her.
(But you are sending me away today). His hands searched out
the side of her breasts and he felt the full mass of flesh and
rubbed at it, insinuating his hand in between desperate to
find her nipple.

"Kyonki bahu sey tumhara kaam ho gaya hai. Ab main tumhe

apne liye rakhna chahti hoon," she said breathlessly as she
fucked down hard on his cock. All this talk was making her
release even tougher. (Because you are done with the
daughter-in-law. Now I want to keep you to myself).

"Saas ko bahu sey jalan hai!" he teased her. (The mother-in-

law is jealous of the daughter-in-law?)

She lifted her head to look at him, her face burning red at the
shameless reference to relationships. She had chosen to fuck
the man who her daughter-in-law had been fucking just
immediately before. She had given in to lust at a level she
had not imagined. She did not want to face that reality. She
wanted to raise herself off fully. She could not let him get
away with this.

Samar Singh found the gap between their bodies the

moment Rajmata raised her head. His hand found the nipple
he wanted. He raised his head and sucked it in fully. Rajmata
was pushing away at him when his other hand closed around
her ass holding her to him. The nipple in his mouth was
chewed and sucked upon by him. She found pools of
pleasure rippling through her. "Samar Singh!" she called out
in pleasure.

He looked upward only to see her eyes closed and head

thrown back. He resumed humping her while trying to gobble
more and more of her breast, stuffing it into his mouth. The
soft large mammaries slapped him in the face as he
slobbered over them. She gripped his ears as her resistance
meekly gave way to desire for release. The clutching of her
ass and the chewing and sucking of her nipples added to the
reaming of the cock. She seemed ready to go over the cliff.
Somehow, the idea of fucking this young man who had
followed her sexual direction to the daughter-in-law excited
her. And keeping him in the palace as her own toy excited
her even more. She could now afford to titillate herself
because a solution had been found.

"Beta, Hunh! Ah! Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" she exulted in

relief as her orgasm burst. It was a torrent and she was open
and gushing. He felt his balls tickle to the running stream
down between his legs. She uselessly plunged downward;
useless because she was agape and no sensation were
conveyed. She gripped his ears and slapped his face with her
breasts, rubbing them on him so that her nipples were
pleasured. Samar Singh was a mere tool of pleasure for the
next few minutes as she ravaged him and pounded and
flailed and beat the floor with her fists. Orgasms gushed out
in a long stream and the elder woman babbled incoherently.

Samar Singh just hung on to her as she took her pleasure. He

clutched at her, biting sucking and kissing whatever of her
flesh was at hand. Sometimes it was her breast, then her
shoulder, now her chin, then her neck.

As she threw herself around and at him, he tried to hold on.

the older woman on top had her eyes closed and was in
shameless pursuit of her pleasure. He watched closely as she
sat back to have waves ripple through her cunt walls., then
forward to have him lave her breasts. Then clinging on to his
neck so she could slide up and down in quick jabs. And then
finally a long breathless kiss and she squeezed her cunt and
gripped as hard as the slippery mess would permit.

When she unclenched her ass muscles a final release gushed

out. They both realized, he was undiminished in his hardness.

It was his turn now and the Rajmata prepared herself for his
assault. "Yes!" she thought to herself. "This is what I want.
And only a man this young can do for me now!"
She raised her body off him. In the normalcy of post orgasmic
state the ache in her limbs was palpable. It was a testimony
to lack of sexual exercise.

She lay back, her blouse hanging back with her breasts
reddened, wet with his saliva. There were bite marks and
finger marks from the mauling she had taken from him. But
he too had been mauled by her. His cock, while hard was
throbbing from the pounding and his body felt sore from the
Rajmata's fucking which he had not felt in Samyukta's
youthful vigor. Momentarily, Samar Singh felt happy that he
could feast on this woman .she clearly knew more and could
teach him a lot more in bed.

For now, he positioned himself on his knees, kneeling down

between her legs. He looked at the mother of his childhood
friend the king. She lay there open to him. Her heavy breasts
responded to gravity and slung in each direction. The nipples
were like his cock; never short on erection. She was wet with
their combined sweat and smeared with oil from him. Her
ornaments were minimal but they contoured her body
beautifully. She looked very different and Samar Singh could
guess that this was how a well-fucked woman looked. The
people would know she was getting some from somewhere if
they saw how radiant she suddenly looked.

He held his cock in his hands to guide himself to her cunt,

when, to his dismay the cock released its charge. It was a
strange orgasm which lacked the shooting strength of the
bursts that Samyu7kta had taken from him. It seemed he was
ready on edge and the touch of his own hand had caused the
spill. Gobs of cum mushroomed from his cock and dripped
over his fist. Large dollops landed on the Rajmata's flabby
stomach and quickly ran down towards her wet, wide-open
cunt. Dollop after dollop welled up and soon Rajmata had a
mess of cum on her body. She stared in fascination as Samar
Singh groaned in frustration.

She reached up and her hand joined his. She gripped the
thick bar of flesh hard. He deserved his pleasure and she
meant to maximize it for him. Her hand slid back and forth
and Samar Singh shuddered in small tremors. The spewing
continued with both their hands collecting the semen from
him. His pleasure was full and complete from feeling her
authoritative hand masturbating him to complete the sense
of relief.

For the want of a better place to wipe her hands ,Rajmata

smeared his cum on her body drying out her own hand.
Tenderly she felt her breasts, pulling on the nipples. She felt
like offering them to this boy, to feed and nourish himself.

Samar Sing collapsed on her, his hand holding her breast. His
face lay on the other breasts and the tired soldier dozed off.

The Rajmata rocked him gently, nursing him. The youngster

had performed commendably. And gone well beyond the call
of duty.
Suddenly, the Rajmata felt better able to handle the complex
affairs of state facing her son's kingdom.

"Nothing like sexual prowess to restore confidence," she

thought to herself, justifying her own little adventure by
linking it to the national cause. She felt some amalgam flow
from her pussy which she was sure would defy
categorization.

He felt heavy as she tried to push him off. But she had to get
up and leave. Her body felt alive and she felt powerful. A
million things were buzzing in her head on what the kingdom
needed next.

The Rajmata was in charge once again.