Your Mother, The Queen.

Your mother, the Queen, walks into your bedroom, leaving her two Royal Guards outside the door. It is a midsummer night, and the castle can be stuffy and humid, so you sleep in the nude, which you now instantly regret as you clutch onto the thin sheet covering your naked body.

Your mother rudely coughs, “You, my boy, may be the King, but I am the King’s mother, and until you stop fucking and breeding trash, I am the only one in the kingdom with the title of 'Queen' and I aspect to be greeted as such!”

You didn’t spend much time around your mother growing up. However, what little time you did spend with her taught you that she has a kind heart and it takes a lot to upset her. However, when she is mad, it is best to run for the hills.

Now, however, you're not in the mood to be intimidated. You're irritated that the room is hot. You're also annoyed that you're **** back here, instead of being in the bed with the woman you have just impregnated. You're also incensed by the fact that you were rudely awakened. So in one sharp motion, you jump out of bed, exposing your completely naked body, grab her hand, and kiss it. “Is this better, my Queen?” you sarcastically ask.

Your mother the Queen softens her tone slightly and is clearly a little flustered by you boldly standing naked in front of her “ah … Yes... Yes, it is.”

“Good. Then why did you wake me up on this long warm night?”

Your mother tries to avert her eyes from your large hard dick bouncing in front of her. “You have been neglecting your kingly duties.”

“What duties? I lead my troops in battle. I've seen our coffers do nothing but collect more gold. I have heard EVERY complaint by EVERY stupid noble. WHAT AM I NEGLECTING?”

As expected from a queen, your mother remains calm “You have neglected your most kingly of duties, ensuring a secure and proper line. What if you die tomorrow? What happens then to your unborn child? The one you have with someone who many call a queen, but OUR nobles will never accept the child or the mother as royalty. With that child being the only potential heir, a civil war would break out if you're to pass away.”

You laugh as you sit down on your chair and cross your legs. “So what would you have me do? You had me trained in religion, not in the art of rolling around with women. I have been busy with the business of ruling to properly learn how to role. And it is not like nobles are sending their daughter to my castle saying ‘Here's my daughter, marry her.’”

The Queen giggles, “Well, maybe not marriage just yet. But there are other temporary solutions.”

“Are you suggesting I sire another bastard child?”

“Yes, but this time with someone with royal or noble blood.”

You get uncomfortable talking about this to your mother, so you stand up and turn your back to her. “Yes, that will go well. Oh, hay, nobles you know that the daughter you have offered for me to marry, how about I sire a bastard child with her instead?”

“You’re being too narrow-minded; there are plenty of noblewomen who aren’t desirable for marriage, " she confidently states.

“I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you don’t mean lady Thornwitch because she is a baron as the driest of deserts. That leaves lady Brights, but she hasn’t been able to leave her room since the horse accident two years ago. Or the lady Aldina Dearin or even her younger sister Muriel Dearin. Maybe one of them would work if their uncle or father ever got tired of getting between their legs," you joke.

Your mother walk up behind him and place both of her hands on your shoulders “Maybe you need to consider other possibilities. You have not even considered widowed noblewomen.”

Maybe it’s because you're too tired or the feeling of your mother massaging your shoulders feels too good, but for the life of you, you can't think of any one widowed noblewoman. There hasn’t been a significant battle in the area that has taken the life of a noble, leaving his widow alone. In fact, you can’t think of a singular nobleman that hasn’t died of natural causes in the last 50 years. If a man dies of natural causes and leaves a widow, it can be assumed his widow is well past childbearing age.

Completely confused, you start turning around towards her. “Mother, I can’t think of a single…” however, you are stopped in your tracks by what you see.

“A single what? Oh, a single widowed woman, are you sure you are not forgetting one?” Your mother stand before you completely naked with the royal gown on the floor around her ankles.