Şubat 11, 2021

Candaules, King of Lydia Ch. 01

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This story was inspired by “In Praise of the Stepmother” by Mario Vargas Llosa. I first published a different version of this story, with a different title, 10 years ago. This version has been substantially reworked. Enjoy. Thanks to Pink Delphi for her editing assistance.

CHAPTER 1

Serafina and I have been happily married for several years, and the love-making is good if not mind-blowing. My wife says I am prone to fantasize excessively. I prefer to say that I have a “rich inner life.” Indeed, Serafina doesn’t have any idea how many times she’s been ravished by the King of Lydia while she plays the Queen of the Gypsies. When I enter her she cries out, “Walter, OH, Walter!” but I hear “Candaules, OH, Candaules!” (Walter being the unsexiest of names and long since banished from my mind).

Forgive me my silly pleasures.

As I said, I enjoy our lovemaking, but it is circumscribed by two serious limitations. First, my wife simply will not learn to speak Greek. Second, she has long been unwilling to indulge my fantasy of having a harem, which would be so easily satisfied by simply bringing another woman into our bed. I have it in my head that all the Monarchs have been proud adulterers, and who is Serafina to deny royalty, after all? But I have not pressed the issue too hard. After all, I would not tolerate a man in our bed.

Let me tell you about Serafina, my beautiful gypsy, before we go any farther. Her eyes are wild and dark, her skin is buttery, and she laughs when she climaxes. Her breasts are soft gypsy hillocks which she hides underneath baggy and modest clothes, so that only I know that her nipples are tawny thimbles that hum when I kiss them. Her sex smells as sweetly as the morning and tastes even better and when I have strained my tongue and pushed it into her as deeply as I can, she will sometimes whisper, “motherfucker, motherfucker, motherfucker…”

Not long ago my wife’s college friend – call her Isabella – came to our home for the week. Having recently quit her big city job, she wanted to unwind with old friends, as she put it. Serafina knew that I had mixed feelings about Isabella. On the one hand, she was irresponsible and represented Sera’s wild college past, about which I knew very little. The combination of Isabella and Serafina sometimes brought out the prude in me. Is it just me, or does it seem that all men in these situations know both less and more about their wives’ sex lives than they would like? On the other hand, Isabella was sexy and busty and enjoyed provoking me with an flash of breast (accidental?) from beneath her morning robe. Truth be told, Candaules had ridden Isabella around the room more than once in his mind.

Late one night, after two bottles of Merlot, Isabella said “I’ll be right back,” and slipped out of the den. Sera and I were in the habit of sitting up late, just talking and relaxing, and Isabella had quickly taken to our ways.

A few moments later she returned with a joint and a lighter. I tensed up.

“What’s that?” I asked, all prude, no King.

“Of course it’s a joint, silly. Don’t tell me you’ve never been high,” Isabella responded.

I had, and I said so. But college pot-smoking had been so long ago and I felt so much more conservative now.

Sera spoke up. “I’ll smoke with you.”

“Atta girl,” said Isabella, and she promptly fired up. Several minutes later, we were all extravagantly high. You didn’t think that I’d sit and watch two beautiful women light up without me, did you? And naturally, our talk turned to sex. Isabella began ribbing me about casino şirketleri Serafina.

“You know, don’t you, that Sera was quite a wild one at the U. I could tell you all about it…”

Sera blushed and giggled. The two were sitting awfully close on our couch, and I began to wonder if they had a history. Sera had confessed to the occasional lesbian fantasy, which thrilled me, but I was almost certain that she had never indulged.

“No, Walter, I’ve never fucked your wife,” said Isabella, as if reading my mind. “No Walter, I’m not reading your mind,” she said, apparently reading my mind again, “it’s just that a mouse seems to have crawled into your pocket.” It was true, and I could only laugh and take another pull on the joint in response.

“What’s the kinkiest thing you’ve ever done with Sera, Walter?” asked Isabella, and I held my smoke while contemplating a response. What sort of question is that to ask a King?, I thought to myself, and fantasized about taking out my royal sceptre and…

“He’s drifting away,” said Sera. “You have to watch him or he’ll be off in fantasyland in no time.”

Isabella knew that I would never answer such an open-ended question, so she began a laundry list to which I nodded in the affirmative: blowjobs, light bondage, whipped cream, etc.

“Have you ever fucked your wife in the ass?” This brought me up short, and I looked at Sera, who laughed and said, “No way. My gate only swings one way! But I bet he’d bugger you if you’d let him,” and giggled at the thought of it.

Isabella looked me in the eye and asked me directly, “Walter, have you ever had another woman in your bed?” This I answered instantly and truthfully. No, I had never cheated on my wife.

The room was quiet, and crackled with sexual tension. It was one of those moments where anything could happen and that anything could be very right or very wrong.

“Walter, why don’t you go to the kitchen and refresh my wine,” asked Isabella. This I did with alacrity. The King of Lydia was happy to flee from his subjects for the time being, having been inflicted with an unpleasant case of royal nerves. As I stood in the kitchen, I could hear Sera and Isabella whispering and giggling, and after several minutes I returned. Sera was smiling, but nervous, and her voice shook as she said, “Sit down between us Walter.”

I placed myself on the couch between these two beautiful women, and each held one of my hands.

I was perspiring, and was a bit embarrassed by my sweaty palms, but they seemed not to notice. “Okay,” said Sera, “here are the ground rules. You can have both of us in your bed tonight, but you cannot put your sex into Isabella’s – that crosses a line I want uncrossed for now.” Did this mean that the royal scepter would enter Isabella elsewhere? I looked at her and in response she raised an eyebrow. She leaned over to me and whispered in my ear, “I’ve never spoken Greek, but I pick up languages quickly.”

We stood, and I moved on wobbly knees into the bedroom. Tonight the King of Lydia would have his harem…

As I followed Serafina and Isabella into the bedroom, my mind raced with anxieties–could I satisfy two women? Would I perform up to Isabella’s jaded expectations? Would Sera be jealous watching me take another woman into our bed? I pushed these fears aside, and asked myself, “Who am I tonight? Tonight I am Candaules, King of Lydia, and a King must rule his subjects with a firm hand and a firm scepter.” It would never do to show weakness to one’s harem.

I snapped back to reality when Isabella turned casino firmaları to me and said, “I’m hot. Let’s shower.” The three of us moved into the bathroom. Isabella quickly lifted her dress over her head and released a beautiful set of buoyant tits. Just as quickly, she shucked her panties and there she was, naked. Her body conformed to the stereotypical fifteen year old’s fantasy – enormous breasts, thin waist, and curvaceous buttocks. Although I am thirty-five, I remember those adolescent fantasies well; indeed, I have never stopped having them. Sera looked at me and grinned. As my wife, she knew I liked a bit of a strip tease, and slowly unbuttoned the top of her blouse.

I, Candaules, King of Lydia, sat on my throne and watched this poor, trembling gypsy girl present herself to me. The shirt came open. Was that a hint of nipple? Was the gypsy girl afraid of what her master would do to her later in the evening, or was she afraid of what her master would do to a different subject and how much her master might like it? “Come now gypsy girl, off with the blouse.” The gypsy girl warmed to her subject, and peeled down slowly to bra and panties. “Come now, gypsy girl, off with the bra.” Smiling, the gypsy girl then slowly turned around and bent to touch her toes. Her black panties cleft two ripe peaches, and she reached back to pull the panties slowly over her backside. The King applauded, the court huzzahed, the jester laughed, and —

“Honey, are you paying attention?” said Sera. She turned to Isabella and said, “Thank God you’re focused.” Isabella in response reached out and placed her hand gently on Sera’s breast. If you have ever had the good fortune to see a beautiful women engage in her first sapphic caress, you will understand why I thought I saw a bolt of electricity leap from finger to nipple, and you will also understand why I began to undress quickly. Sera leaned forward and, with that dreamy closed-eye expression I knew so well from our own love-making, placed her mouth on Isabella’s.

I use the awkward phrase “placed her mouth” because they did not properly kiss; when their lips touched, they dissolved in a fit of nervous giggles. We were still very stoned, and I was relieved to learn that I was not alone with my anxieties.

“Let’s get the dreamer out of his clothes,” said Sera. The two turned to me and slowly pulled off my pants. Isabella then lifted my boxers past my erection and gasped – I am not a small man, and this may not have occurred to her when she hinted that I could take her from behind.

There we stood, all three naked, all three nervous, and all three very aroused. I kissed Serafina fully on her mouth, and she returned with a slow embrace. Isabella stepped into the shower and began to run the water. Our bodies pressed closely in the confined space of the shower stall, and Sera washed us with a bar of soap. First Isabella, then myself. Isabella next washed Sera, who moaned quietly when Isabella’s hand moved between her legs. Once clean, we toweled off and stepped into the bedroom, hand in hand.

Please consider the scene. There I stood naked between Isabella, a pinup fantasy made flesh, and Serafina, my beautiful and loving wife. My sex was so hard that the head had turned purple. Isabella whispered to me, “Kiss me.”

I did. I took her in my arms and placed her on the bed while pressing my lips gently to hers. As Isabella’s tongue slipped past my lips, Sera climbed into bed next to us and pressed her body into ours. The room filled with the unique and wonderful aroma of expectant pussy, and my head güvenilir casino reeled.

There was no etiquette. It was the first time any of us had been in bed with more than one person, and the first several minutes were spent frantically groping, grasping, pulling, tweaking, and poking in our glorious madness. Isabella would take a hand from Sera’s sex and grasp mine with it, pump vigorously for a moment, and then place her fingers in Sera’s mouth as I put my tongue in Isabella’s ear and Sera pinched my nipple. To their surprise and my embarrassment, I came quickly and copiously, coating Isabella’s stomach as Serafina gripped my member. We all laughed, startled, still addled by the wine and pot, and I sat back to watch my wife make love to another woman as I recuperated.

Serafina pushed Isabella onto her back, and with her tongue, traced a line from Isabella’s chin to her left nipple. Swirling her tongue around and around Isabella’s aureole, she then nipped her skin as Isabella yelped in surprise and pleasure.

One of the things that has kept my love life with Sera fresh over many years: she loves to express herself verbally in bed. I realized that any shyness she may have felt with Isabella had evaporated when she said, “I’m going to lick my husband’s come off your stomach.” Isabella moaned and wriggled on the bed as Sera licked her stomach, lapping the last of my come out of her navel, and moved to kiss her squarely on the mouth. I could feel my member stir again as I saw a thin strand of my come connect the women’s tongues.

The gypsy girl kissed her way down the stomach of our captive princess, and I, Candaules, King of Lydia, moaned in approval. When the princess came to our palace, did she know she would be used in this manner? Did she suspect? Did she come to our palace because she wanted to be used in such a fashion? I pondered these weighty matters as the gypsy girl placed her face between the captive’s legs, and breathed into her nether hair. The captive moaned and writhed, and the gypsy girl moved her tongue lightly across the captive’s lips before placing her mouth gently on her clit. The captive sat bolt upright and said “aaaaaaaahhhhhhhh…” as the gypsy twirled her tongue around this most sensitive nub, and —

“Hey there Walter, care to join me down here? You look lost,” said Sera. Removed from my reverie, I placed my face next to my wife’s and we took turns licking and kissing between the legs of Isabella. Her juices were flowing freely, and I marveled at the scent of another woman being rubbed onto my face. Sera must have had the same thought, because she turned her face towards mine and licked Isabella’s juice off my lips. Isabella forcefully grabbed my hair and pulled my mouth back to her clit. As I licked ever more quickly, Sera quietly slipped a finger into Isabella’s sex and sent her immediately into orgasm. Isabella bucked as I struggled to keep my mouth on her clit and Sera probed her with her index finger. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck…” moaned Isabella and she rode the wave of her climax as long as she could, then collapsed back into the bed, for the moment lifeless.

As she recovered, my wife moved onto the bed on her back, and Isabella and I gave her the same treatment that our guest had received minutes before. I grew thirsty, and went to the bathroom for a drink of water. When I returned, here is the tableau which greeted me: Sera, my wife, on her back, legs raised above her head, moaning and thrashing and coming, while Isabella licked and fingered her glistening sex. Isabella was on the bed, kneeling between Sera’s legs, with her face low to lick Sera’s pussy and her buttocks high in the air. Sera opened her eyes and must have seen me staring at Isabella’s globes, because she grinned and said, “I think it’s time for that Greek lesson…”

To be concluded in CHAPTER 2

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