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Making a Man and a Queen	By : Allyrion Category: G through L > Game of Thrones Views: 76064 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Game of Thrones, nor is this story for the purpose of making money.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
“What is that supposed to mean?”
Margaery's uncertainty rang through her tones.
Cersei allowed herself another moment to revel in her new position of power. Gods it felt good to be here like this after having conquered Margaery at long last. Although if truth be told, the look in the other's eyes below was not one of defeat…
The queen regent could feel how her body still soared with adrenaline in the wake of their recent conflict. It reminded her of what Jaime had once said, that he had never felt so alive as when he was in battle...or in bed. Now she had a taste of the former, one that had long been denied by the nature of her sex.
“Oh, you're a smart girl,” Cersei said with a cruel smile and green gaze. “Surely you've figured it out by now.”
The Tyrell girl's uncertainty gave way to a more general confusion, oddly fetching upon her typically calm and aware expression.
“But...you...you're not a-”
“I act however I please,” Cersei said emphatically, still flush in victory. “For that is what queens do, and I am one still...despite all your efforts.”
Her smile widened, but it remained without joy.
“I will show you the price of your insolence.”
As Cersei spoke her hands pulled the regal dress up to her own hips, exposing the sight of lean bare legs and the growing wetness between them.
Margaery shook slightly in a faint attempt to resist...until her brown glance fell to the sight directly above her. The Lannister woman's smallclothes could not hide the scent of arousal, a reality neither of them ignored. This recognition was having an effect on the younger woman as well, for Margaery's normally pale flesh was turning unusually red.
Even so the situation clearly was not wholly comfortable for her, given the confusion still upon the Tyrell girl's features. The enduring hesitation was all the opening Cersei needed though.
Sweeping the rich fabric of her dress swiftly off to one side, Cersei brought one hand down to expose her womanhood at last from its cloth prison. She revelled in this exposure, the air upon her newly freed intimate regions. Then she began to lower herself, using her second hand and body weight to hold the Tyrell girl's head in place.
Margaery again stirred at this but Cersei only smiled coldly at the feeble resistance, continuing her descent until at last she reached a point where she felt something brush against the sensitive edges of her pussy. For a moment she revelled in that, then moved down even further to ensure the Tyrell's features were pressed against her molten womanhood.
She could feel the other's breath between her legs and could only imagine what it must be like there. Margaery's various senses must've been completely filled with all there was to experience of a woman in arousal.
“Come now,” the queen regent said, looking down to where Margaery's face was now partly obscured by her still regal form. “No longer is it time to play the shy maiden. I know those hens of yours must have taught you about this.”
She shifted to briefly expose the younger brunette's face, looking deeply into the other's eyes, green on brown.
“I see what you are, Margaery...and what you're capable of. And you know of me the same, as you always have.”
“So let's get this over with. You know I'm not going to let you go until its done. Fight if you must, but this will happen nonetheless.”
Her grip grew harder to become iron, locked upon the soft brown curls below.
“You, Margaery, are going to lick my pussy,” Cersei said in a rough voice, her tongue parting the lips to betray her excitement. "Until I come all over your pretty face."
Margaery's face flickered, her pride flaring abruptly at the coarse demand, but there was much emotion swirling within the younger woman as well. Despite all their animosity, she could not fail to note how Cersei was still undeniably a lovely woman. The Tyrell girl has not been one to fully restrain her desires to plunder such beauty.
The new queen mollified herself in additional thoughts. She may have been being temporarily overpowered but was unconquered, and as long as such was true, she could wait for the opportunity to take revenge. Nor could Margaery deny the appeal of being the submissive for once, to not have to take the lead as she had to with Tommen and the others.
No, there were charms to be found in this for her as well. Cersei may seek to humiliate her...but Margaery would enjoy this.
There was no warning before Cersei felt a first hot, wet lash of tongue upon her outer folds, prompting a sigh of pleasure from the queen regent.
“Well, that didn't take much, did it,” Cersei said downward with a knowing smile. Another stroke provoked her next sentence. “Mmmm, that's it. I knew you'd be good at this.”
Margaery's inhibitions were clearly lessening by the moment. The blonde could feel her captive growing more audacious, and in between revelling in the sensations she looked around at the surroundings which still gleaming in the morning sun.
Still perched upon those fair lips, Cersei's gaze eventually returned below to behold Margaery's cleavage, feeling a jealous, burgeoning desire to expose it more fully. Then a deeper, exquisite look washed this thought away, prompting her blonde head to rise anew with a heavy exhale of rapture.
Seconds, minutes, or hours passed, long enough for Cersei's control to wane. Margaery was both capable and relentless, her work inflaming to both behold and feel. The younger Tyrell's own womanhood and form was becoming more tempting, even to Cersei, but the queen regent wanted to see something different first, given how close she was.
She bent her lithe form up, rising from Margaery at last, the act revealing her head again.
Those lovely features were now only half obscured by Cersei's body, brown eyes looking upward to question the movements of the other. Her lips and lower mouth were damp with the blonde's fluids, a marring she bore without shame, only a curious aspect.
Breathing heavily during this respite, Margaery settled her head back and spoke in a newly freed voice.
“What are you-”
But Cersei had predicted the reaction and planned accordingly.
“I'm close, Margaery. And as I said before...you're going to send me over the edge.”
Both her hands abruptly seized anew upon either side of Margaery's head, gripping fiercely. She held it in place with new fury, preventing the Tyrell girl from moving away before driving her nude form back downward upon it.
Any last semblances of her self control vanished at the lewd prospect of what was approaching. At pinning her younger rival even further into a subservient position, holding her fast...keeper her utterly at her mercy.
It was ever the power that excited Cersei most, and a newfound surge of excitement coursed through the blonde. All the buildup at Margaery's humbling, the carnal pleasures pulsing through her body.
For one moment she basked in the glories of the experience....then Cersei Lannister let out a loud exhale that evolved into a quiet moan. It marked her fierce release that began to flood Margaery's diligently working mouth.
Even as the brunette squirmed in surprise below, it only encouraged Cersei further, her legs wobbling and weakening upon that lovely face she was cumming upon. Margaery's brown eyes were visibly wider than normal as she was forced to taste fully the spasming womanhood above. Cersei noted though that the other kept their tongue at work through it all, demonstrating how they were clearly not wholly displeased at the way things were going.
Then Cersei crested at last, legs giving way completely as they bracketed across the young Tyrell's face. Her hands fell away from the brunette's head, her normally keen green eyes dazed, body flushed and covered in a faint sheen of sweat.
Gods, that had been even better than she had expected, Cersei thought. It had been her best in so long and had taken a lot out of her, the blonde finding her breaths heaving, tall form still reeling from the immensity of the experience.
It almost felt like she was watching from a different perspective as she beheld Margaery escape from her position below, too exhausted to contest it.
The Tyrell girl was breathless herself and flushed, lower face gleaming in liquid from the sun. Her brown eyes were also bright as she brought the back of a slim hand across her mouth to clean off some but not nearly all of what was there.
“That,” Margaery said with a sudden anger, expression cross. “Was not fair, Cersei.”
Then suddenly she drove forward, catching Cersei by surprise and forcing her backwards. The blonde resisted feebly, older and stronger but irrevocably weakeney.
The queen regent fell back upon the nearby floor and Margaery wasted no time moving forward to take advantage. There was little pain in the abrupt change of circumstances but Cersei was only mildly able to resist this reversal of roles. Frustratingly, she found herself unable to make up this disadvantage.
It was a curious twist of fate that she beheld. Margaery was positioned above her now, lowering one lithe hand to lift her own dress up as Cersei once had.
“You presume too much,” she said with a quiet dangerousness as she did. The younger brunette was, if anything, even more beautiful in this fierceness than her typical docility.
Cersei replied by attempting to roll the Tyrell girl off again but the other somehow overcame the effort with visibly straining legs. It did not help how the queen regent was still out of breath herself, given no respite to recover.
“You think to use me for your pleasure Cersei?” Margaery said quietly. “Let us see how you enjoy your own treatment.”
Without waiting a moment further, the Tyrell lowered herself onto Cersei's fair face, far rougher than even the queen regent had. Suddenly Cersei's senses were filled with the sight of Margaery's own pussy and the clear signs of excitement there.
What was left of the queen's pride prevented her from accepting this offering so easily though, even one so lovely as this. Margaery could see the hesitation from above and her expression grew cross.
“You think your reluctance changes anything? Mine did not change anything for you. No, this is not going to end so easily for you either.”
She began to rock herself upon Cersei's face. The blonde kept her lips primly sealed but she could feel the moisture of Margaery's pussy spreading across her once proud features.
“Isn't this what you wanted?” Margaery asked, breathless herself now in her rampaging emotions. “To feel powerful by making me do what you wanted? I am going to do the same to you.”
She slid herself back and forth upon the queen regent.
“Mmm, yes,” Margaery said. “You look so lovely there, Cersei...and you feel good too. Perhaps this is even enough for me to finish all over that pretty face of yours.”
Cersei could not deny a desire to taste at the womanhood moving upon her but she refrained. No, she would not give her rival the satisfaction of her pleasure...unless…
Unless it was what she needed to do to regain the advantage, to deprive the Tyrell of her energy as she had done herself. Her consciousness fastened upon this rationalization as the intelligent thing to do, and Cersei considered this with a weakening resolve.
Then her proud lips parted at last, tongue emerging to lick upward.
Margaery had already been enjoying herself, but the sensation of the other's tongue piercing into her most intimate region provoked a further reaction. Her body convulsed visibly and those brown eyes widened, looking downward as she briefly stopped moving. Instead she briefly fixed upon the sights below, almost aghast but visibly excited.
How could Margaery not be, as she locked gazes with those lovely upraised green eyes, revelling in the sight of the lovely Cersei Lannister beginning to eat her out with a wonderfully increasing enthusiasm.
She could not long withstand that kind of stimulation. Her mind was filled with only one thought; by the gods, it felt so good. Cersei was constant, blonde hair shifting as she lapped away, the soft, wet sounds of her tonguework audible in their close quarters.
Margaery tried to hold on. She closed her eyes, imaging herself elsewhere to prolong the situation. When she opened them again though it only made the sight even more inflaming. Her pale, lean legs straddled Cersei's blonde head, her dress a pool of cloth held to the side.
It was when the other began to suck fiercely upon her sensitive nub, fingers held fast to spread her ever wider open, when Margaery knew the end was nigh. She tried one last time to resist, failed miserably, and then her mouth fell open in a wordless scream as she plunged over the edge.
Predictably, in her moment of greatest rapture Margaery's hands gripped upon Cersei's head. If truth be told, the queen regent's jaw was uncomfortably set, her neck aching from having to crane it upwards to get better access to her target. Even so, Cersei resolved herself for this one final effort to see her rival overcome.
As Margaery orgasmed the unleashed liquid flooded Cersei's mouth with the Tyrell girl's taste, but the queen regent could not find it within herself to stop entirely. Even as her younger rival moaned softly above, her body flushed and writhing, womanhood spasming, Cersei kept her tongue buried within Margaery's center. The brunette's muscles were convulsing, legs shaking about her face.
“That's it Cersei,” Margaery moaned. “Suck, mmm, yes, take all I have to give you...keep going...oh...”
For a moment Cersei continued to do exactly that until those lovely taut, slim legs gave way fully to show how the Tyrell beauty had finally become sated.
Margaery fell away at last, rolling off Cersei's now shining face in clear exhaustion. Her beautiful face was dappled in sweat and still marked by Cersei's own fluids from earlier, breaths gasping as she fell to the blonde's side. Beneath her still lovely but visibly askew gown, her small breasts were rising and falling quickly.
How long they lingered there together, basking in the sunlight and recent experiences, neither fully knew. No further words were exchanged, and instead these two powerful women who ruled a kingdom, rivals and now for the first time brief lovers, lay together upon the floor in silence.
Then at last came a faint knock upon the door, the sound jarring as it pierced the earlier silence.
“Sister?” came through Loras' voice, filled with concern.
Margaery tensed.
“Yes?”
“Is everything okay? It has been some time since-”
The Tyrell girl threw a shrewd look over at Cersei. “Everything is fine, Loras. We are still...negotiating.”
“You should consider an end,” the other answered. “We have other appointments today-”
“I am well aware,” Margaery said impatiently, her anger coming to the fore. For a moment Cersei was reminded more of Olenna Tyrell than the docility the brunette usually displayed.
“Interrupting in this way will not help. I will emerge when our matter is concluded and not before. Leave me be.”
Cersei could all but hear the frown and frustration of the other through the door.
“By your will, sister.” The footsteps retreated.
Margaery looked back to Cersei and her tone lowered.
“What...what we just did,” she began quietly, but Cersei overrode her and began to rise.
“It never happened...good-daughter,” the queen regent said, gathering herself as best as she was capable of. Her tone grew even colder.
“I will repeat what I said, so we are clear.”
“It...never...happened.”
Margaery was not long in the uptake. She rose and studied Cersei, shorter but fearless, mind clearly contemplating the implications.
“No...it did not,” the Tyrell girl repeated afterward, straightening herself as well.
“That's what I thought,” Cersei said without another glance back to Margaery. Instead she swept forward to open the door.
***
A full week had passed now since the wedding.
Tommen and Margaery had not lain together since but the young king still thought about it often...how could he not?
The new queen would often catch him looking shyly at her even after all they had already shared. Occasionally she would see his gaze fall to less respectable areas, but she dutifully never responded with anything but a welcoming smile.
Even then the teenager would flush and look away, eliciting a faint sigh of impatience from Margaery. She knew the roles demanded of her as a queen, among which was to bear the king's children, but there were other considerations as well.
He needed to learn how to break through his endearing but often frustrating shyness to become a proper ruler. Margaery felt the the key for this was through the bedchamber and in his obvious interest in it. Already Margaery could sense his normal timidity waning against his burgeoning carnal drives.
She would wait for Tommen to ask though. Her restraint was only aided in how she had recently experienced release at the hands...or more accurately tongue...of his mother. The memory gave rise to confusion at the memory; the state of her acrimonious relationship with Cersei was now all the more muddled for that previous morning.
This new day at last found Tommen and Margaery walking together in the royal gardens. If truth be told Margaery had never truly thought much of this place though; they seemed a pale imitation of those she had seen in Highgarden.
She was considering how at least they smelt better than the rest of King's Landing when Tommen drew them to a stop.
“Margaery,” the young king finally said.
The brunette looked to her younger husband, removing her arm from inside his.
“Yes, my king?”
For a moment Tommen seemed tongue-tied, unsure as if whether to continue his thought. Then he lowered his voice.
“Can you tell the guards to leave?”
She could have easily complied but Margaery felt it was better to resist.
“Why don't you tell them yourself,” she returned gently with a smile.
“Oh.” Tommen looked as if he truly hadn't considered such. “I guess I could-”
“Go ahead then,” Margaery encouraged. “Do it if you want to.”
She turned back to their escort without giving him the opportunity to respond.
“Guardsmen, your king has something to tell you,” she said in a suddenly strong, authoritative voice.
Tommen followed her lead much less impressively.
“I wish for you to leave us," he managed.
The guards exchanged a look.
“Your Grace,” one of them said. “It is our duty to ensure your protection at all times. Given this interest perhaps it is unwise for us to depart.”
Tommen digested that, clearly considering a response. “Yes, well-”
Margaery's impatience flared at the sight and the Tyrell rounded upon the guard who had spoken.
“Your king has just given you a royal command,” she said in a brittle voice. “Why are you still here?”
“My queen-”
“You can protect us just as well on the perimeter,” Margaery continued over him. “We will call for you again, but do not return before then.”
She punctuated these emphatic words with two more.
“Go. Now.”
The guard looked to Tommen, who nodded wordlessly. Then he looked to his companion who gave a faint shrug.
Looking distinctly unhappy the man subsided. “Your Grace,” he said respectfully, bowing and then marching away.
Margaery watched them go before turning back to Tommen with a smile, her tone noticeably lightening.
“I'm glad you did that. It's much nicer with just the two of us...”
She took a deep breath and spread her arms wide, letting herself whirl slightly on the spot. Margaery knew it made for a potent display of her beauty, as her rich brown hair swirling through the air.
“And it's such a lovely day too. So perfect.”
When her gaze returned to Tommen, however, she saw that it was lowered to her chest. He recognized her awareness belatedly and his attention rose.
“Oh. Sorry.” His cheeks coloured again.
“I'm not,” Margaery said, still smiling, but Tommen looked away unconvincingly. The new queen sighed inwardly, then struck upon a new tack.
She drew his attention toward a nearby collection of flowers. “Ah, look at these! They're so beautiful!”
Without waiting she went to the plant and carefully leaned down, exposing her shapely backside to the king. She allowed him an extra moment to savour the sight before rising again and turning with the flower held within the cleft between her breasts.
“Don't you agree, Tommen?”
As the king nodded dumbly, obviously not looking too much at the flower, Margaery took a deep smell. Again, the fragrance was nothing special to her standards, but she looked over the top of its petals to him with smoldering brown eyes.
“It was so very ripe for picking, wouldn't you say?”
“Yes, I suppose,” Tommen said quietly, and then he looked back to the side with flushed features.
“I wish Ser Pounce were here, he needs-”
Margaery sighed, allowing the flower to fall to her side.
“I can't wait like this any longer, Tommen. I thought I could...but..."
She gestured downward. "Why don't you come sit down with me.”
The king looked confused. “Here? But we're in the middle of the garden, it's so dirty-”
“Then we will stand.”
“No, if you want to sit-”
His indecisiveness was endearing to a point, but Margaery could no longer restrain her frustration at it.
“It doesn't matter which you choose,” she said impatiently. “Just that you do.”
“But I...I just want-”
“What matters is that you do what you want...not what others do.”
Tommen digested that.
“I just want to make everyone happy though,” he said nobly.
“I know,” Margaery soothed. “But you need to start acting more like a king Tommen...and a king is someone who often has to act with their own will.”
Tommen looked wary.
“You mean like Joffrey?”
They were treading upon trickier ground now...but Margaery had dealt with worse.
“In a way,” she said. “But he had his own flaws which I don't see in you. You can become a far greater monarch than he ever could...but to do so you must learn how.”
Tommen looked to her, aspect still uncertain.
“Not many have told me this,” he said quietly. “It was always grandfather, mother or Joffrey who gave commands; usually Myrcella and I just sat back and watched-”
“I know,” Margaery soothed. “Things are different now, though...Joffrey is gone, and your mother...”
She let the thought trail off before continuing.
“Besides.” She smiled. “There are many joys to be found in embracing your own desires.”
Margaery let that settle in for a moment, brown eyes gazing intently upon him.
“I know you think about it, Tommen.”
The king was confused. “About what?”
“Our wedding night,” Margaery said. “And all those things we did together during it.”
“Oh, that.” Tommen's blush was renewed.
“Didn't it feel good?”
“It was incredible,” he breathed without hesitation. “But-”
“What did you like the most?"
"All of it," Tommen said, but Margaery persevered. She knew how talking about it would excite the young king...
"You must have preferred some part of it though."
"Well..." Tommen considered, turning even more red. "You felt so nice and...warm when I was inside you."
"Did you like how it ended?” Margaery said, studying him boldly.
“You mean when I...”
“When you came inside me,” she completed fearlessly.
Tommen looked ashamed at the mention.
“You shouldn't say that.”
“Why?” Margaery answered. “It is something I'll never forget...and how could I. It felt incredible to have your seed inside me...”
Tommen was so flustered he did not speak again, allowing her to continue.
“Do you remember asking me what to do before you came? And my answer?”
“Yes.”
“I told you to do whatever you wanted...and you did.”
She paused for effect.
“And it felt all the more perfect that you made that choice, for both of us, because I knew you did what you did for your greatest enjoyment. And I know that because you could have done so many other things...but you didn't. You wanted to cum inside me, Tommen...and I wanted you to as well.”
“You acted like your namesake, the brave golden lion,” Margaery pressed home. “And a lion does not ask others as to what he should do, does he? Instead he acts and is renowned by all for his strength and resolve.”
Even as she spoke these words she knew that this was not a matter to be resolved so easily. Cersei's domineering influence obviously ran deep in Tommen but Margaery wanted to at least plant the seed to nurture.
“So I'm going to ask you again, now,” she said. “Is there anything you want to do now while we're here alone? Speak your mind.”
The young king paused.
“Well,” he said. “I've been thinking about our night together a lot, and now that you've mentioned it too...”
He looked at her with a tentative resolve.
“Could we do it again?”
Margaery favoured him with a smile, coy yet promising.
“Yes we could, if you want to.”
He looked excited at the prospect. “Let's do it then.”
“Then tell me what you want, Tommen.”
“Can I see...your breasts,” he said haltingly. “They're always hidden, and I just want to...see them all for once...”
Margaery did not question the request. Instead the brunette simply drew a hand to each side of her bodice and confidently drew it open, allowing her breasts to spill free from the former constraints of her dress.
As his eyes fell upon her exposed topless beauty, her voice emerged almost hypnotically into his mind.
“If you find the courage to say what you want, you will be often rewarded...like this.”
Tommen came forward. The young teen was obviously still full of doubt but there could be no disguising the great depths of his desire. His hands rose and cupped her breast, gripping hungrily at the soft flesh, prompting Margaery to give a little moan at his actions.
His thumbs moving across the nipples which hardened visibly under the ministrations, Margaery watching him do it with a smile...and soaring body.
“My body is yours, my king,” she said. “As your queen and wife. What would you have of me?”
His eyes rose to hers...so very green, just like his mother's. The memory sent Margaery briefly back to when Cersei's face had been perched between her thighs, sucking fiercely at her spasming pussy-
“Can you touch...me?”
The queen gave him a bright smile. “Of course.”
Slowly, carefully, she fell to her knees and drew down his breeches. Margaery could hear his excited breaths from above as she looked upon his already rigid length before her, now exposed in the outdoor light.
Then she gripped it with one hand, eliciting a groan from the teenager. She only smiled all the wider for the reaction and began to pump to make his tautness even harder.
Tommen was looking down upon her.
“Please...use your mouth again...”
Without hesitation or fear, Margaery drew her fair head upon him and parted her lips. She drew forth so his cock entered between them, but she did not exert any pressure upon it quite yet.
Even so Tommen was ever more rigid in her mouth and Margaery knew with his inexperience it could be any moment when she got a mouthful of his seed again. The prospect did not overly trouble her but it bore consideration nonetheless.
Tommen beheld Margaery's mouth around his cock, her eyes upraised for his pleasure as she began to move upon him. He let her suckle upon him for a few more wonderful seconds before speaking again.
“Margaery.”
The brunette stopped in her actions, slowly drawing off him with an exquisitely slow movement. When the young king's member finally escaped her mouth a thin trail of her saliva connected the two.
“Yes, Tommen?”
He paused.
“During the wedding you...did that thing with your breasts. Could you do it again?”
Margaery smiled.
“Of course, my dear husband.”
She drew herself forward, placing his cock between her modest but comely breasts. Once there she placed a hand upon him and began to pump.
Tommen revelled in the warm feel of her skin, the sight of himself upon her cleavage. Her hand slowly picked up speed, sliding along his length which was hard as a board between the comparatively her soft, yielding breasts.
It was enough for Tommen to lose himself, his limited restraint unaided by the fact he had been without release since the week.
“I can feel you're close,” Margaery said. It was no falsehood; the boy king was positively writhing under her touch.
“Don't stop,” Tommen moaned. “Please...don't stop...”
Margaery obliged. Her one hand was moving swiftly now, releasing an unrelenting amount of pleasure upon him.
“Oh...” Tommen said. “I'm going to...Margaery...”
The Tyrell girl was not expecting any warning, but the fact that her lover was considerate enough to provide it this time was endearing. In a swift movement she brought her other hand up and began to move upon his length, the pressure doubling.
It was easily enough to end Tommen's resistance. The king cried out and his cock twitched and suddenly began to spurt forth into the pastoral setting.
Margaery did not stop her torrid efforts, not even when the first powerful stream struck as high as her chin. She could feel the way Tommen's length was pulsing in her hand, the muscles contracting to release stream after stream upon her breasts.
Her cleavage was soon mottled in creamy white grey liquid. Tommen held out for a moment longer, looking to down to see Margaery's welcoming face and breasts marked in his seed, then he descended backwards helplessly.
Margaery saw him fall back upon the soft grass with satisfaction. Then she fell to her knees before him even as he sought to catch his breath.
His eyes were still upon her, dazed, fixated upon her cleavage without shame now...at long last. Margaery saw it and she brought a finger at her dark brown nipple now covered in liquid, then drew it up to her mouth and sucked at it.
Tommen beheld that sight with excitement even now.
“Wow,” he said. “Margaery...that felt so good...”
“Did it?” Margaery answered. “I'm so glad.”
She descended before his slack legs, hands moving out to grasp at his now weakening length. The head of Tommen's cock was gleaming, and her actions drew out a last visible dribble of his seed.
Margaery looked from it back up to him and brought her mouth to suck upon him.
His taste was strong but she did not care. With enthusiasm she cleaned Tommen off, receiving another wave of his taste in the process, but the boy did not react as she had anticipated.
She had expected him to tell her to stop after a while, unable to continue. Instead she felt stirrings of his cock again, felt it hardening once more at her ministrations.
Perhaps there was benefits to having such a young lover, Margaery mused in response. Clearly he was not done after all, and she eventually broke off his rehardening cock to remark upon this.
“You're ready again? Already?”
“I can't help it,” Tommen said with shame. “You are just too...I couldn't….”
“This is nothing to be ashamed of,” Margaery said. “In fact...you should be proud, my husband.”
“I want to see more of you,” Tommen replied in a rush.
Margaery drew her dress up in answer, exposing her legs. She could have mounted him to then and there easily in an effort to repeat their wedding experience.
No, there was still a lesson to be taught here though...and she would teach it.
Margaery moved back from him and moved onto all fours. Then she moved a hand to draw down her smallclothes, looking back to Tommen and saw how he had risen, his eyes fixed upon her presented, inviting womanhood.
Her hand stretched along her body, fingers parting her folds to better reveal herself.
“You remember this,” Margaery said. “I'm waiting for you, for your pleasure..."
“Make love to me again, Tommen.”
The young king was still somewhat clothed, his movements made slightly ridiculous with his fallen pants around his ankles. Even so his features were visibly excited as he came forth toward her.
Clearly the sight of her must have made an impression upon the youth. For one moment she was waiting expectantly, legs braced…
And then the next he had sheathed himself entirely inside her, so far his thighs struck upon hers.
The action was jarring even for Margaery. She cried out, her eyes widening as she looked back to Tommen, who flinched visibly.
“Oh no,” he said. “I'm so sorry-”
“Don't be,” Margaery panted. She smiled back at him, her pussy now reaccustomed to his length.
“I can stop-”
“Don't you dare,” she said.
Tommen nodded...and then, gently, began to thrust.
He was timid at first, but the young king soon increased his speed. There was no rhythm or order to the movements, but this was strangely exciting to Margaery. His inexperience was unusual and made sure the end was potentially around any corner.
The queen made all the proper noises, bracing herself against him, holding herself as steady as she could as Tommen set to work.
The teenager was gripping her ripe female form stretched ahead of him.
“Isn't this good,” Margaery cooed from ahead. “Mmm, your cock feels so nice, Tommen...”
The young king features were increasingly strained as he set to work.
“Talk to me, my king,” she said back to him. “How do you feel?”
“You're so...wet,” Tommen said. “But warm and...tight too.”
“You've made me like this,” Margaery said. “I've been waiting long for you my king, but none of that matters now. Here we are...”
"Make me yours."
Tommen drove into her again, his face going rigid. He was clearly on the edge, but he could not conceive any thought other than to keep driving himself into his waiting, willing wife and queen.
“Are you ready, Tommen?” Margaery asked him. “What do you want to do? Are you going to come inside me again-”
Then suddenly, Tommen stilled. Her words had proven almost prophetic. The king's mouth opened, his blonde hair tousled and sweaty, and then he gave out a primal, excited yell.
Well, it was true enough that she had told him to do what he wanted, Margaery mused with a faint amusement. It was swift; one moment they had been well and truly going at it, the next he was stopping, his cock embedded within her pussy, filling it once more with its load.
She could feel these hot jets of liquid spurting within her most intimate regions, prompting her to cry out in ecstasy. Even her own control was waning in the immensity of that sensation, the feeling of femininity at being seeded.
Even as Tommen came inside Margaery, filling her completely, she tried to tighten herself upon him. The effort clearly had an effect, for the king cried out anew and his legs tightened, his hands fixed upon his wife and queen's backside.
Her hands drew Tommen forward even as she drove herself back, uniting them tightly together as husband and wife.
For as long as it took, they remained there. It was clearly all Tommen could do to still stand, his eyes blank, lingering inside her.
Then he drew out, his legs giving way at last. He fell backward, and looked up.
Margaery had not moved herself, remaining braced on all fours as she had been. She looked back with her lovely features, brown eyes sparkling, hair tousled but still exceptionally lovely. The lush feminine curves of her body were magnificent, from the way the breasts swung freely to the ground...but even these glorious sights were nothing compared another.
For between her legs, below the mound of brown pubic hair, was her ripe, freshly used womanhood. Already there was a white creaminess visible among its pink folds, but before Tommen's eyes a greater flow of his own white seed emerged from her filled pussy to fall upon the ground.
“Oh wow, I can feel it,” Margaery said, drawing a hand down between her legs to feel. “It's so nice that you've come inside me again, Tommen.”
Her smile grew radiant smile. “Just as good as the first time.”
Tommen settled back, panting with exhaustion. His eyes were lidded, for clearly the double release had been much even for him.
"Margaery," he managed. "I love you."
The brunette responded by settling next to where Tommen was, drawing his face to rest it upon one breast. Margaery's cleavage was still mottled in his drying seed but the young king was not one to care at that moment.
"And I love you too, Tommen," Margaery answered. "Rest now, my brave little lion."
He was not long in complying. Soon the young king was dozing, and Margaery stroked at his blonde hair, one leg rising in an arch. The ground was slightly uncomfortable beneath her, cushioned only by her dress, but she too felt a sense of contentment.
Another chance for an heir, and another step forward for Tommen...or so she hoped.
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Making a Man and a Queen