The State Banquet

A princess’s fun

You can picture yourself in the King’s court, sitting at a large table, next to an older nobleman, his wife, a Lady, on his other side. Feeling coquettish, you slip your hand beneath the table while he eats, reaching your fingers out over his thigh.
You’re wearing a beautiful dress, with laces up the front, tied tight to accentuate your curves, and of course, true to the time, no underwear.
You’ll use the sight of your soft smooth skin and your youthful charm to keep his attention from his wife. Touching your free hand to your bare neck and shoulder, inviting him to look at your delectable body, while you rub him through his pantaloons beneath the table, tugging at the fabric to find a way to get your hands inside to feel his warm flesh under your fingertips.
The Lord begins to feel uncomfortable, and starts to blush as he feels your hand in his lap, especially when he feels your fingers curl around his thick length and begin to stroke back and forth. He adjusts himself in his seat and, with a last look at your chest, turns to speak to his wife, coughing discreetly as he tries to regain his composure.
You can feel how aroused he is by the way his cock is twitching and throbbing in your fist, and as you circle your thumb over the bulbous head you can feel his precum oozing from the tip.
You smear it over the broad smooth dome and feel his hips begin to rock as he tries to maintain conversation with his wife.
With him slightly turned away from you, you take his hand closest to you and draw it to your lap, tucking the layers of your dress up above your knees and then placing his hand gently and quietly between your thighs.
His fingertip starts to flicker and curl between your legs, working it's way up beneath the fabric of your dress, until you feel it graze against your plump labia. It slides against them, massaging with the experienced motion only an older man has, and quickly you feel yourself getting wet. The Lord dips his finger between your moistened lips with his hand cocked backwards between your thighs. You can't help sigh as you feel yourself tingle at his touch, and in response you grip his cock a little tighter in your hand and screw your fist up and down more firmly. You can see he takes a deep breath and you can feel his thighs clenching under your wrist as you stroke him secretly under the table. His words become less pronounced as he talks with his wife. She asks him if he's ok and if he needs some water or wine and he clears his throat and tells her he's fine.
You glance around to check whether anyone is aware of what's happening and all the court are talking between themselves. The King, your father, is at the head of the table and is speaking to one of his ministers intently. You make a quick decision, and in a moment you have dropped down beneath the table without anyone seeing.
You move on to your knees and crawl to the feet of your favoured Lord, who is still trying to talk with his wife, the Lady, above the table. You put your hands on his knees and tug them apart, then shuffle in between his thighs, your head bowed low beneath the table. You feel him slide his pelvis down on his chair and you quickly open his pantaloons to release his thick, swollen cock. Even though it is dark under the table his wide head shines with his precum, and you lean your head forward and lick it, tasting the silvery salty film as your tongue laps it up. You roll your tongue around the head, gripping the shaft with your fist. You can feel his thighs clench either side of you as his body involuntarily convulses. Your mouth opens and you press your lips around his bulb, suckling as if it were a juicy strawberry, ripe for tasting.
You hear his wife ask again if he is ok, and this time he can barely speak. You decide it's time to give him everything, so you press your mouth down and take the whole length of his cock deep in your throat. He grunts, and rocks his hips, just as his wife starts to get angry at him for not talking to her nicely. You hear him apologise, telling her he can't help it, but she gets more cross and slaps him around the face. This causes his cock to surge, and it fills your throat so you can't breathe. You gag, and try to pull your head back, but you feel his hand reach under the table and grip a fistful of your hair. He grinds your face against his pubic mound, using his fist to direct your head, forward and back, filling your mouth and throat then withdrawing.
You can sense he is close, but you have no way to break free. His wife slaps him again and she is fully arguing with him now. His stupefied responses barely make sense as he tries not to give away what's happening beneath the table. His hand grips tight and he rolls your head, making your neck sore as you try to preempt his movements. He rocks it harder and faster until he's screwing himself with your mouth, using you as he might use a doll. He's pumping so hard that he can't hold back, and with a guttural grunt and a painful grip of your hair his body clenches and shakes as he releases jet after jet of thick creamy cum into your throat. It slips down as you swallow hard, but you can't keep up with the volume and it fills your mouth, spilling out onto your chin and dripping down your neck. His body rocks and shakes, and you hear his wife screaming, calling for the almoner to bring reviving salts. She fears his convulses are a seizure and his face, contorted as if in great pain, gives her proof.
His hips stop thrusting and his fingers loosen their grip as his climax subsides. He lifts himself back up into his
chair and recovers speech, breathing heavily and brushing down his clothes.
His wife comes around as he regains his composure, and when he speaks more clearly she begins to calm down. He reaches under the table and pats your head, cupping your cheek a moment in his palm before pointing his thumb towards the bottom end of the table.
You crawl away, down to the far end, and emerge from the table amidst a small crowd of bustling servants bringing salvers of food and wine. You stand unnoticed amongst them and then return to your seat, apologizing for your absence and sitting back down. The Lady touches her chin and asks quietly if you have spilt something, some cream, perhaps, or a milky drink. You remember how the Lord's cum had leaked from your lips, so thank the Lady and wipe it with your finger, looking him right in the eye as you press your finger into your mouth and suck his residue off it.
"Mmm," you say, "Thank you, Lady Melchem, I must have taken more than I could manage, I shall need to be more careful next time. It is delicious though, I'm surprised you don't try it more often.
And with that you turn to the man beside you and strike up conversation with him.