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Many comings and goings there were, pages and visitors to the Queen in her chambers, but it was to me when on duty that fell the task of keeping shut the doors when she wished to be alone, or when she would retire for a night’s rest. And the words that she would offer me direct were worth a kingdom to me, no, worth much more. While making rounds in the hall a certain day past, I saw approach the Queen’s doors a man in Frankish livery, seemingly impatient as I hailed him. He was pressed for time. As I began to stand up I realized that my towel was not coming with me. By the time I stood up I was completely naked, facing away from my sister. My body blushed and I knew I was screwed. I looked back to see her trying to look at my cock. I felt it grow even more.She handed me the towel but never looked away. I began to wrap it around me as I heard her whisper, "Leave it off."My mind was racing; my heart was beating so fast I began to shake. I didn't just hear her say that, did I? What do I. Her legs had to look simply super in them.The lights began swirling with her. The colors shifted according to some sort of pattern she couldn't figure out. Not that it mattered. She was lost in the music. Dance, dance, dance. Her entire world became wrapped up in her performance.She began sweating. The room was too hot for her. A quick touch at the top button of her blouse and it came free. Spinning, her tits pressed firmly against the blouse. A sudden spotlight hit her chest. She knew it. I asked her what I would get out of it. With a slight grin, she said she would have to show me. Later that night I got my first thank you picture text. I jerked off starring at her ass propped up on a wedge, ankles bound and tied to a bar forcing them a foot and a half apart. She had her finger in her pussy and her face looked like she was cumming. I asked her where she took the picture, even thou I could see her pink bedding and knowing that it was her mother’s wedge and bondage. She said she.
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