Grab a weapon and give him a big whack!

Horny and furious, your sense leaves you. You grasp the haft of the nearest weapon and storm over to the bed, swinging it at King Quinton with all your might.

With a mighty "Pouff!", the head of Lily's dust mop connects with King Quinton's buttocks. He grunts with surprise. Your wife squawks in alarm. A cloud of dust rises. He tries to rise, but stiffens, convulsing with his own climax, pressing his cock deep into your wife. The whack on his arse must have fired him off.

The enormity of attacking your king with a dust mop sinks down on you, and you freeze, unable to move or speak. Your eyes are glued to his dusty buttocks, thrusting again and again into your fat, lusty, fuckable, unfaithful wife. But one set of your muscles is still working. You feel the tip of your cock swell, and a wave of heat rises in your body, and lightning strikes from the base of your spine. Your prick spouts long white laces of sperm onto King Quinton's buttocks and your wife's near hip.

Your wife's eyes meet yours. Her face screws up in a bizarre expression, and then she starts laughing, a loud, harsh shrew's laugh, strong and deep. Your face falls at her laughter. A fart escapes her bottom as she shakes with laughter. But as King Quinton jolts out his last few thrusts, her legs rise high, her neck curls forward, her face flushes red, and she starts to climax again.

Quinton manages to get control of himself enough to look around. When he sees your face, he stares for a moment at you, frozen beside the bed, your cock still dribbling sperm, and the mop handle in your hand. You realize the king has the same look on his face that you do...embarrassment! But as you look each other over, his face changes quickly. His shoulders quake, he presses his lips together, but he can't hold back his own gales of laughter.

You join in, falling to your knees by the side of the bed. Your wife is still quivering with her climax. The king is laughing. You're laughing until the tears run down your cheeks.