La belle dame désinheritée

The Lady Wren looked on as her brother Faedyn coupled with Lady Haydia. She smiled at his forceful plundering of their redheaded hostess' cunt, taking her from behind so all could see her flushed face, transfigured with lust and a touch of pain -- Faedyn's prick was kingly indeed. She hoped he was more gentle with her as a rule, although Haydia had been his lover for some time, so they must accommodate each other with some comfort. Once her passions had run so high, and they had nearly ruined her life. She didn't see Haydia's consort about. Pity, he was a charmer. She heard feet shuffle beside her and she gave a reassuring squeeze to the young man holding her hand.

She turned to her son. "Not what you expected of noble society, Tiercelet? But never fear, your rhetoric, dancing, and heraldry will be called upon. Eventually." She smiled. "Even if Madame Maibonne's and Monsieur Baisepêche's lessons will be most relevant tonight, do not forget your good manners. This is a night for making connections and leaving good impressions. Let me take you around."

Her son replied, "And you, mother?" He was dressed in an understated tunic and hose, but to the attentive eye, the clothes were closely tailored and accented with rich detail stitching. Wren was pleased with how they accentuated his lithe young shape and called attention to the bulge in his hose and the line of his rump. At least he'd been well learned not to slump.

"Not much I can do on my own behalf, tonight. The only princess with a bar sinister." Wren smiled wryly. "Princess born, that is. I suppose at a ball they would announce me as Countess Kesby. The title's on my mother's side and wasn't in their power to uncreate. While you, at least you have youth, beauty, brightness, and no hereditary claim to contest." She held her tongue from further chattering. It was likely that Faedyn would create Tiercel a noble in his own right one day -- her brother enjoyed his nephew's presence, and with herself and her son written out of the succession, there would be few complaints. She cleared her throat. "Now, let's make the rounds," she said. "Your king has commanded you to celebrate with him." She leaned closer and whispered. "Faedyn made the point to your face that he expected your young prick to spear and spend in the cunts of at least two duchesses tonight."

Her son smiled back. "Mother, this is my first time at a court occasion. It's not fitting to look too much above my station." He took a breath. "This time."

Wren stuck her elbow out, and her son took her arm by well-trained reflex. "Let me walk you round and about," she says. "I see many people who will be friendly to me, and I should introduce you," she said.

A loud feminine exclamation of satisfaction turned their heads around, and they saw Lady Haydia, face crimson, shouting out her joy. Once again, she had received her King with great mutual pleasure. Faedyn's breath caught, his smooth stroke becoming short and ragged as her tight channel tightened further. His own cry of pleasure followed hers, and there was general cheering and acclamation as he pumped his seed into the Lady's inner chamber.

"Let us make some acquaintances for you, before they all lose their clothes and get down to their own pleasure-work," she said.