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The Blue Bra A Fairy Tale for Transvestites Copyright 1991 By Leigh De Santa Fe There was a king who had three daughters. Well, two daughters and a son, actually. But the son was the loveliest of the three. It works that way sometimes. Anyhow, three princes from a neighboring kingdom were wandering about in search of wives and they stopped by a tall cool one at the castle of our king. Now the king wasn't doing too well, cofferwise. In fact, he was flat broke. The peasants were getting surly and the gold embroidery on his robe was mortgaged to five different banks. Unloading his daughters would go a long way towards easing the budget he thought as he eyed the princes from behind a purple curtain. But the hitch was the princes wanted to marry three sisters. Why, we just don't know. Fairy tales are notoriously arbitrary. The king retired to his chamber in despair. Sitting in an uncomfortable wooden throne he stared at the portraits of his three children, Helga, Hedda and Harry. Helga was fair with long wavy locks of spun gold. Hedda was a raven haired lass with bewitching eyes and Harry was a beguiling boy of sixteen with angelic features and shoulder length brown hair. If only Harry were a girl, he thought as he studied the boy's picture. Mentally, he redressed the boy in a scarlet dress and had no trouble at all imagining his male offspring to be a saucy wench. A tiny shudder of delight coursed through him as he thought of a way out of his problem. Calling his daughters to his chamber he proposed his scheme to them. An hour later Helga and Hedda descended on Harry's chamber with an armload of wench's garments. Two hours later the king's three daughters, Hedda, Helga and Harriet wended their way down the spiral staircase to the great hall where the King was entertaining the princes with card tricks. When the three princes looked up and saw the delectable beauties, trains in tow, descending the stairway their hearts stumbled all over each other. They were in love. Hedda was gorgeous, Helga was luscious but it was Harriet that entranced them with her eyes of green and her bosom of princely proportion, which, of course, she was. Hedda and Helga, in their innocent desire to make Harry appealing had stuffed his bodice with enough flax to approximate a 38D cup. Naturally the Princes' eyes fixated on this hidden treasure, each of them intent on unraveling Harriet's corset laces in search of that bountiful booty. Harriet had other plans. His sisters had sold him a bill of goods about this lark and now the situation as he appraised it seemed considerably more long term than "an afternoon of playful deception." These princes had undressed him so many times with their eyes he was getting a chill. And now his father was preparing to deliver a long speech the gist of which was consent to give up Harry's chastity. Thinking fast he asked demurely if the Princes had brought with them the Golden Brassieres as stipulated in the marriage contract. "Golden Brassiere," they cried. "What is that?" "You mean my father hasn't told you? Oh, naughty Daddy. Before you can claim our various hands in marriage you must return with three Golden Brassieres each of which must fit us perfectly." Hedda and Helga groaned quietly as Harry continued to embroider his falsehood. "Of course, many Princes have succeeded in finding bras that fit my sisters but as for me, well, modesty does not permit me to explain how difficult that task has proved. Suffice it to say that our dungeon is littered with skeletal remains fingering golden lingerie that never quite captured my ungrateful fancy or . . . bosom. Quest if you must but know the grave consequences of failure in this pursuit." Harriet said, gazing shyly at his large bust. The Princes were discouraged but not half as much as Harry's sisters. As for his father, well, he demanded a little loot up front for the privilege of questing for the large lingerie. The Princes retreated to begin their search and Harry retired smugly to his room where he deflaxed his bosom and resumed work on a model airplane. Now two of the Princes had resigned themselves to finding a couple of standard issue 34C cup bras for Hedda and Helga but Bruce, the third prince had a vision of suckling those monstrous mammaries that allowed him no peace. He decided to climb the vine outside Harriet's window to gain more insight into the meaning of his quest. As it happened (in real life as well as in fairy tales) he reached the window of Harry's chamber just as the two bountiful balls of flax tumbled out of Harry's bust. "Aha!" Bruce said disguising his dismay with a thin veneer of wonder, "I'll punish this saucy fellow who deceived me so cruelly." Having said this, he descended the vine and devised a plan of revenge. He set out across the land with his glorious vision burst and his vengeance intact. Soon he reached a deep forest which gave him pause as night fell and the glimmers of sunlight grew few and far between. "What the hell am I doing here?" he said to himself. From out of nowhere a voice rang out: You seek a large bra For a wench with a flaw The garment you seek Must improve her physique. Bruce was terrified, of course, but he continued to walk. It occurred to him to ask another question of the voice. "Where does one find such a bra?" It rests on the frame Of a spurious dame. That was all the voice said. Without a dictionary Bruce found this clue pretty useless. He kept walking however and at length found himself before a vast castle, its towers lit with amber fires. From inside the castle came the sounds of merry-making and revelry. Drawing himself up to the window he peered in and spied a large group of the fairest damsels he had ever seen with the lovliest garments of silk and satin and luxuriant hair coiled in gorgeous locks upon their heads. "What is this," Bruce said rhetorically, "a gather of queens?" For a few moments he watched in utter delight as the fair ladies cavorted, danced and sang and compared brocades. From his window perch Bruce overheard two lovely maidens nearby in red and green satin respectively saying to each other. "Well, of course, she's the prettiest, she got that goddamned enchanted bra." "Yes, who wouldn't be the fairest in the land with such gorgeously spurious cleavage." That word again. Bruce now listened with even greater intent. "Of course, she has to keep us all waiting until the last possible moment to make her grand entrance from her chambers above, third door on the right." That was all Bruce needed to hear. Stealthily he climbed the castle wall until he reached the window of a brightly lit room. He popped in, hid swiftly behind a screen and waited for something to happen. Soon a tall man appeared with an entourage of ladies in waiting. He was entirely naked and was upset about something. "Well, why isn't it ready. I told her I had to have it by seven. She doesn't really expect me to wear this old thing. Bugle beads bore me stiff. And besides I'm expected to wear something new. Something outre. If I don't these queens will have their tongues flapping till Halloween." So, he was right. They were queens and this must be the king of the lovely court. He must have the wrong room. Bruce was slow. A chambermaid appeared in a skimpy lowcut thing with a silver box on a red velvet pillow. The king opened the box with a heavy sigh and fell back on his bed. "Well, at least I have this," he said taking a flimsy blue brassiere from the box. Holding it tenderly he caressed his cheek with its soft cups. "What gives?" thought Bruce as the king clapped his hands and the servants disappeared like frightened rabbits. Standing now before a large guilt-edged mirror the king brought the bra around his chest, fastened the hooks and said: Change this male and motley mug, to beauty rare and delicious. Spill the wine and fill my jugs. For these are my fond wishes. As soon as he uddered these words a wondrous thing occurred. Large breasts grew to fill the cups of the tiny blue brassiere which by now had grown to accommodate these gorgeous beauties. And other wondrous things happened as well. The kings buttocks, once flat and hard grew round and soft and his waist grew slender. From out of nowhere golden curls poured over his shoulders, covering his delectable bosom with flaxen hair. And most wondrous of all, down below a golden snatch replaced a member that had shrunk away to nothing before Bruce's eyes. In a brief instant the king had become a delectable young maiden. Bruce said to himself, "This is it!" and he leapt out from behind the screen. The king, who to avoid confusion shall now be referred to as the queen turned round on her dainty heel, aghast at his intrusion. "Who are you, some bold marauder who seeks to ravage and pillage my soft and pliant body for your sick carnal pleasures? Do you seek to plunge your throbbing rod into my virginal loins to achieve your unseemly ends? Are you here to rudely steal the delightful chastity which so playfully taunts you like a golden mouse? Is it your intent to gather up my sleek and supple anatomy into your arms and penetrate me again and again with relentless passion? Would you dissolve the frail fabric of chivalry with a single but endless act of sensuous abandon? Do you aim to drop your drawers and let me view your meaty manhood before you lay waste to my delicate charms or what?" Bruce was confused. He had come for the bra. Now he found himself on top of the queen as her nimble fingers quickly unknotted the laces on his codpiece. She was beautiful, that was true. But a few moments before he had seen her in an entirely different light. Now her golden locks drew him into a quandary there seemed little need to escape. Time passed. Waves broke on foreign shores, trains passed through dark tunnels, mighty trees fell in the forest, the queen lit a cigarette. "So why did you come, honey?" she said propping herself up against a satin pillow. Bruce was spent. He turned his head towards the queen whose femme name was Gloria. "I can't remember." he lied. The skimpy blue bra that enclosed those mountainous mammaries danced a few inches from his nose. "Do you have one of these in gold?" he asked after a time. "One of these? No, honey, it's one to a customer--blue only. Why do you ask? Do you want to try it on?" she asked facetiously. Bruce saw an opportunity here. "Yes, I'd like that, Gloria." "Well, honey, I've got beige, taupe, black, red and puce but the blue stays right here on mama. Check out the closet if that's your pleasure. Now, if you'll excuse me I've been keeping my guests waiting far too long. It's been sweet." She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead and then climbed out of bed. Bruce panicked. No bra, no revenge. Well, that didn't seem so bad in itself but to lose resolve now would put the plotline in a terrible bind. Suddenly he reached for a candlestick and conked Gloria out cold. Then he unhooked the bra and rolled the king's body under the bed. He heard voices in the hall. The chambermaid's, eunuchs and what have you had arrived with the king's tardy togs. Bruce hesitated for a moment then he slipped his arms into the bra and spoke the magic words: Change this male and motley mug to beauty rare and delicious. Spill the wine and fill my jugs For these are my fond wishes. The door burst open and the entourage of chambermaids, seamstresses and hairdressers and a few outraged guests descended on Bruce. Hastily they began fitting and fussing over the poor thing who stood timidly as he gazed with awe into the mirror. It wasn't what he'd expected. Instead of the golden locks and deep blue eyes his shoulders were covered with dark auburn hair, his eyes were a limpid green and down below a triangle of copper coils had replaced his mighty sword. His formerly tanned and olive skin was a smooth ivory. Of course, the bra was filled with a pair of milk-white lovelies whose roseate nipples strained against the taut blue gauze of the precious bra. "So it's red tonight, is it Gloria?" a bewitching lass in black lace said throwing her mane of black hair haughtily over a bare shoulder. "You know, you shouldn't keep your guests waiting for three hours. I've done my best to keep the little bitches in line but I can't keep them waiting much longer." She moved closer to Bruce now. "You know, Gloria, this kind of devotion doesn't grow on trees. Don't you think you could reward me with a brief little trip through your wardrobe," she said putting a long red nail under a blue strap and snapping it gently. "Fifteen minutes, is all I'd want. Just fifteen minutes, Gloria. I'll be 33 in June. You could make it a birthday gift." Bruce stared at the wench in horror. "Oh you are the lucky with your tasty titties and your crimson cunt," she said turning on her spike heels and leaving the room to sulk.. Meanwhile Bruce was overwhelmed by the little ants of servitude who by now had managed to pour him into a shimmering satin gown that was, oddly enough, vermilion in hue. Of course, it was cut in a way that displayed the legendary cleavage he had come in search of. A filigree of delicate red lace hid the essential blue bra from view. The dress also captured the new curvilinear nature of his feminine form. A pair of hands pulled his hair up while another pair fastened a dazzling choker studded with rubies and diamonds around his neck. Yet another pair slipped his feet into a pair of burgundy heels and still another pair atomized a mist of lavender into his hair. During a brief pause in this flurry of activity Bruce heard a low moan. Glancing down he saw the king's head emerging sleepily from under the bed. Back up gracefully he delivered a quietly effective blow to the king's forehead with his heel. The moaning stopped. "Will Milady be wanting her hair up or down this evening,'' a nubile maid asked demurely. Bruce thought for a moment, glanced in the mirror and said in a voice that surprised him, "Down will be fine, thank you." "You'll be wanting it brushed then?" the girl said holding a silver brush up to him. "Yes, of course," he said. "Well, you'll have to sit down, Milady. You're taller than I am." "I know that." Bruce said and sat down in front of the King's vanity. The chambermaid pulled the brush through Bruce's auburn hair in smooth even strokes. "This feels so good," Bruce said without thinking. And it did. He gazed into the mirror and witnessed the scene as though it were a painting. His hair became a bright fan of light as the maid pulled it out from his face in a slow gentle arc with her brush. The busy hubbub in the room seemed to die out as he became lost in the sensuousness of this moment. The maid whispered something to Bruce. He got up slowly and gave his new image one last long look. He saw the green eyes, the ivory bosom cradled in red satin and the auburn hair spread over his shoulders in soft delicate waves and beneath them all: the blue bra. An impossible innocence seemed to radiate from this face. The lips seemed poised to utter some breathless remark of wondrous sweetness and beauty. The maid whispered once again. Though he could feel her breath on his neck her words dissolved as she spoke them so transfixed was he by the artless grace of this lovely vision. It was as if any movement would cause her to disappear like a deer in the forest. The maid pulled on his arm. Slowly he turned to face her. Her lips moved but he heard nothing. He turned back to the beloved image. Serene, beyond reproach she gazed back at him. "Gloria, your guests are waiting. All is forgiven if you can pull yourself away from the mirror and your, uh, maid for a moment." It was the woman in black. Bruce stared at her. "Gloria, the party? Remember, your guests. They await. You look extraordinarily beautiful tonight, darling. So . . . innocent. Come with me now, dear. I'll lead the way." she said, grabbing Bruce's bare arm and leading him out of the room and down the long spiral stairway. As the sounds of revelry reached their ears Bruce began to be afraid. Could he imitate Gloria in all her imperious grandeur? What must he do? He decided to make an appearance and then fade into some dark hallway and disappear with the blue bra. They arrived at the ball and every head turned as he made his way across the room to the throne. Only the sounds of satin rustling and the click of heels could be heard until Bruce mounted the platform on which the throne was seated. Walking through this crowd of eager face he felt as though he were awash in a sea of envy and he became aware that every fair damsel begrudged him possession of the blue bra and its magical powers. The woman in black followed him onto the platform and took his place standing next to the throne. After Bruce was seated the envious faces continued to stare in silence and he wondered whether some ritual was not being observed. After a moment he commandeered a fan and flinging it open he leaned over and asked the maiden in black what they were waiting for. "Your court. You haven't chosen your court." "Of course, the court. How many do I usually choose?" "The two lovliest to be your ladies in waiting, milady. Are you feeling alright?" "Alright. I feel delightful." Bruce said tossing his long mane of hair over one shoulder. He turned now to examine the crowd of gorgeous lovelies. A strange transformation had occurred. The faces no longer exuded envy but were now possessed by a different demon. Given the prospect of joining him on the platform the beauteous maidens forgot themselves and behaved in the most sensuously seductive manner. Tongues crept slowly over upper lips, shoulders were turned and bared for his perusal, sinuous hands swept tousled tresses off necks and held them aloft while eyes either challenged him with brazen wantonness or feigned heavy-lidded sexual ecstasy. The sight of so many women in various states of arousal was a frightening vision. Bruce turned to look at the woman in black. Her lips blew him a pouty kiss while her hands pressed the black silk against her crotch revealing the outlines of a distinctly unfeminine bit of sexual equipment. Bruce panicked. Turning back to the damsels he found them becoming every bolder in their enticements. Hiking up their pretty skirts, they revealed similar surprises, some dangling in repose, some adventurously rising in steady interest. One young thing standing not two feet from his chair caught his eye as she pulled up her many petticoats to reveal a healthy mound of fur and nothing else. She dipped slightly in a dainty curtsey and her heavy tool flopped down from its hiding place. She smiled coyly but the blush in her cheeks was not from shame. Here and there maidens stood cheek to cheek, their dresses up around their waists, hands clutching each other's member and tongues thrust out towards him, beckoning. One winsome raven-haired beauty had disrobed entirely except of a swath of black gauze that wound around her chest and between her legs where her hands took turns playfully tugging at it. Bruce felt he must act soon or the whole room would collapse under the weight of so much concupiscence. He noticed one young beauty far in the back who without any writhing or contorting stood out radiantly in this mass of ravenous lust. Her face was a lovely alabaster color with pale red lips that neither pouted nor parted but were glowingly sensuous by themselves. Her blue eyes were wide and expectant but with such innocence they hardly belonged in this crowd. Her hair was parted in the middle and framed her face in soft blonde waves. He clapped his hands. The room stopped writhing, hems dropped to the floor, and eyes turned to Bruce. He pointed imperiously at the young blonde beauty and said, "Come up here, my dear." He hoped it sounded like Queenly. Then he quickly scanned the crowd for a hasty second choice. A dark-eyed wench who was slowly gathering up garments she had discarded during the mass seduction scene caught his eye. Her long black hair touched the floor as she stopped to pick up a chemise. "And you." Bruce said. Startled but pleased by her selection she mounted the platform in long proud steps flinging her hair dramatically over her shoulders. So now Bruce had a court. On one arm stood the statuesque black-haired beauty with nothing on but a halter and panties. On the other stood the shy blonde maiden wearing a black velvet gown that fell off one shoulder. The party was now underway. Most of the girls had regained their composure and their clothes but a few who had gone too far in their lewd couplings retired in pairs to dark corners of the hall to consummate their adventures. As the music started up and the dancing began Bruce wondered how he could discreetly leave his throne and escape into the woods with his pretty prize. The two girls sat curled at his feet on thick bear furs. The dark creature whose name was Christina held his hand and looked up at him longingly. The blonde whose name was Alexandra leaned against the throne and quietly watched the swirling dancers. "Gloria, aren't you going to take your court upstairs?" the woman in black asked impatiently. Apparently protocol was not being observed once again. "Of course, I am," Bruce replied seizing the opportunity to leave without raising suspicion. "Come, girls," he said to the two maidens who dutifully followed him up the stone stairway. Once they had arrived at the king's quarters, Bruce checked the bed apprehensively. The king was still out cold. He turned round to observe his court and was surprised to find them disrobing. The olive-skinned lovely was in fact already stark naked having discarded most of her garments on the dance floor below. The petite blonde was shyly slipping her black velvet gown down past her waist revealing a delicious black lace halter over smooth white skin that still retained the softness of youth. "What are you doing?" Bruce asked naively. "Getting ready to serve you, milady," Christina replied, her tongue gingerly tracing her upper lip. She stood confidently, her feet spread wide, one hand caressing her cock to attention, the other toying playfully with her black mane. "Would you like us to disrobe you, milady?" Christina said advancing toward Bruce with a lewd gleam in her eye. Bruce wanted to say no but a certain weakness in his knees prompted him to reply, "Yes, please" with an eagerness that surprised him. Alexandra, now also completely unveiled, revealed a lush blonde snatch in which a thick, pallid member lolled. Together Christina and Alexandra gently rolled the red fabric off of Bruce's shoulders, peeling it down past the blue bra and its deliciously overripe cargo, down past the slender waist, over the smooth white buttocks until the dress collapsed softly around his feet. Alexandra, eyes averted, cheeks displaying a faint blush, took Bruce's hand and placed it over her still pliant cock. His fingers around its spongy softness instantly producing a spasm of delight from Alexandra that shuddered through all three of them. Christina drew back the veil of thick auburn hair and planted moist kisses over his neck, working her way down till she reached the top of his pink bosom. Her fingers easily found the hardened nipple protruding through the flimsy fabric of the blue bra. Rolling the rubbery nubbin between her thumb and forefinger she whispered breathy taunts into Bruce's ear between her torrid kisses. Under such relentless sexual attention Bruce's knees gave way and he fell back onto the crimson comforter. Alexandra now slid her hand into Bruce's pretty panties. Feeling her way with a grace that belied her innocence she parted the muggy lips and inserted her index finger deeply into Bruce's steamy sex. Then just as gracefully she withdrew her moistened finger and with both hands slowly pulled the panties off Bruce's legs, now taut with sexual tension. Placing her full red lips over Bruce's cunt, her tongue replaced her finger in its probing while Christina's mouth covered Bruce's, that lascivious tongue making good on all its threats. Alexandra's lovely golden tresses covered Bruce's thighs as she sough out the red button of pleasure. Finding it easily she proceeded to flick her tongue over it with a steady rolling rhythm. As Bruce's torso began leaping up to greet each tasty flick Alexandra held his riotous buttocks, supporting them as they lifted into space. Christina, meanwhile, pushed the cups of the blue bra off Bruce's breasts and began to suck and bite his nipples with similar intensity. Bruce could stand it no more. He grasped Christina's shoulders and pulled her on top of his. Christina plunged her hot, hard sex into that dripping darkness that greedily accepted it. Alexandra now moved up to kiss Bruce's lips as Christina pumped furiously into him. Their hair swirled together over Bruce's bosom in a beautiful mixture of blonde, red and black. At this moment, as all three girls were writhing in the unbound state of sexual belonging, the heavy wooden door burst open. The colorful tangle of tresses quickly unraveled to observe a handsome stranger in the doorway. Standing in battle dress his massive form lingered in the doorway briefly then strode into the room and stopped beside the bed. The girls unfastened their bodies from each other and recoiled at his approach. Alexandra slid partially off the bed exposing her rapidly diminishing cock for a moment then in her chaste embarrassment turned towards the bed. Looking over her shoulder at the intruder it appeared as though she were proffering her smooth white buttocks to his rough hands. At least it must have appeared that way to him for he reached out and squeezed it like a melon leaving red marks when he withdrew. "I don't think I've ever seen you in red, Gloria. It becomes you dear. And such a delicious court you've chosen this evening. I wouldn't mind sampling their favors." Bruce recoiled in shock from this new development. Overcome with the new emotion of shame over the exposure of his luscious body he sought to hide it under the covers. But the stranger grasped his still heeled feet by the ankles and pulled them toward him until the steamy coils of his new sex were pressed against the stranger's stomach. Christina, bold as she had been before in the great hall now underwent a similar transformation to virtuous innocence before the steely eyes of the interloper. Inching her way off the bed she tried to move past the stranger and retrieve her garments. But as her feet touched the floor the rude warrior grabbed her cock, which still hard, pulsated in his great hand. Then he pushed it down like a lever so that Christina helplessly followed until she was on her knees at his feet. "What do you want with us? Bruce asked. "What do I want? All three of you, of course. But I should take you first because it's my duty as your spouse and because you're the loveliest tonight," he said as he stripped off his battle clothes. In a moment he stood before them wearing nothing but a leather codpiece that barely contained his considerable equipment. "Come to me, Gloria," he said pulling Bruce off the bed with a powerful tug on his heeled feet. Bruce slid off the bed and into the stranger's waiting arms. Quickly grasping Bruce's wrists he skillfully wrapped them around his muscular frame. Then his hands cupped under Bruce's naked buttocks and pushed up until his moist labias were divided by the iron-hard contents of the leather codpiece. With deliberate care he slowly raised then lowered the trembling beauty against his coated member until she was weak with longing. Then he eased her down and said, "Gloria, why do you proclaim your body most immodestly and yet retain this thin piece of fabric over your most fetching feature?" the stranger said with sneering sarcasm. Bruce backed against the bed in panic as the stranger's hands slid under the straps of the blue bra and pulled them off her lovely alabaster shoulders. "No, you mustn't!" she screamed, putting her hands on the leather thong that held the codpiece in place. They exchanged a look of mutual horror as the clasp that held the bra and the thong that held the codpiece gave way in unison. A wondrous thing then happened. As the garments fell away from the two bodies a transformation occurred. Bruce's luscious figure lost its softness and regained the natural firmness he had arrived with while the stranger's massive form lost its taut muscularity and became a model of lovely female architecture. The flat chest now sported a tantalizing bosom, the thick waist became slender and the close cropped hair now cascaded in delicious brunette ringlets over shoulders no longer broad. The face framed by these waves was beautifully regal with full lips and large brown eyes opened wide in fear. "You're not Henry. Who are you?" the newly born female shrieked. "What do you care?" Bruce said hoisting the brunette beauty up and pushing her moist cunt against his groin. "But where's my husband?" she screamed. "Under the bed asleep. He won't mind if we compare a few notes. After all, we've both had him in various forms. It's a pity you can't enjoy him as a woman. He's a wonderful girl in bed. Very attentive and . . . tight," Bruce said sliding the gorgeous queen around and seating her on the bed. "Well, I'd love to carry on longer but I've long since worn out my welcome. If you'll excuse . . ." he said bending down to pick up the bra. But it was gone. He wheeled around to see Christina primping in front of the mirror. Her fantasy come true at last, she was lost in the pleasure of owning a pair of bountiful breasts which she caressed with loving abandon. So caught up in her delightful new body was she that Alexandria's approach went unnoticed. So entranced were the both of them, one in envy, the other in ecstasy that neither noticed Bruce, who pushed past Alexandria and nimbly unfastened the blue bra and pulled it ingloriously from Christina's briefly voluptuous form. Dashing with his prized possession to the window he paused on the sill and surveyed the room. Christina's femininity faded before the mirror while Alexandra's envy had returned to innocent lust, on the bed the Queen sat, legs spread and eyes longingly fixed on Bruce. "Come back," she gasped. Bruce hesitated then ran back to her, performed a ceremoniously bow which put his lips over her ardent cunt and kissed it. Then he picked up the codpiece and made his way out the window and back to the kingdom and his bride awaiting. fin