The King and I

No, not That King – I’m going to tell you about an escapade with one of my favorites, a client that, just for this one night, we will call “The King” (we treated him like royalty, after all!)

I knew, from many conversations over dinner, and late at night, that he was open-minded and adventurous… but not experienced in certain of the delightful rewards that these attributes can bring.  

Seeing a date coming up on our calendars, I asked him if he’d like to meet a good friend of mine during our date (confession: I’d been looking forward to getting up close and personal with her myself!) He responded with unsurprising enthusiasm and, after making the necessary e-introductions and completing her (let’s call her “GF” for this story) usual screening procedures, our date was set.

The King flew in late one night and I joined him at his Marylebone hotel to cuddle and spoon while he slept off his journey. The following morning we ordered breakfast in our room so that we could enjoy a languid reconnection of our skin and set our mood for the day, and the adventure, to come.

Emerging for a light lunch, we filed the afternoon with a little shopping in the West end and a stroll through Hyde Park (where we might also have been tempted by ice cream cones:), then back to the hotel to get ready for dinner; not too dressy as we were aiming for casual fun (in copious quantities).

At the appointed time, The King slipped down to meet GF who had arrived off the train (she’s a country dweller like me), and by the time I got down to join them (I was only a minute late, obviously!), they were chatting up a storm, side by side in the cozy seats of the lobby lounge.

We set off, hand-in-hand, for dinner – just around the corner to a favorite seafood restaurant where the host eyed us up and down, caught our mood in a flash, ushered us to his best table in the window, and popped the cork on a bottle of his best champagne.  We devoured a tower, or perhaps two, of his fresh shellfish offerings, and the energy at our table bubbled and flowed like the champagne… and the second bottle of champagne.

Our exuberance carried us through the walk back to our hotel, lit up the lobby, and on up to our beautiful classically-furnished room where The King had arranged  red roses and yet more champagne to sustain our mood.

We draped ourselves on the sofa and chairs, sipped the champagne, lit some candles, and found music to complete the ambience. I popped into the bathroom to freshen up and ‘slip into something more comfortable’. I was gone but five minutes, I promise, but when I emerged The King and my GF were canoodling on the four-poster and deep into a hands-on mutual anatomical exploration. Feeling a little left behind, I struck a pose in the bathroom doorway and loudly cleared my throat.  Hearing an audible gasp from The King, I held my pose while he grabbed for his phone

“Feeling a little left behind, I struck a pose in the bathroom doorway and loudly cleared my throat.  Hearing an audible gasp from The King, I held my pose while he grabbed for his phone…” and here’s the scene he captured :)

I walked across to the bed, firmly shoved him to one side, and took over his work in exploring GF. Ever the gentleman, The King kept his (very slight) distance while GF and I took our sweet time to examine every texture, scent, and response of each other’s bodies while The King looked on with a mesmerized expression – let’s call it a beatific smile - upon his royal countenance.  

I would have been happy to ignore him – understand that we were already well-acquainted :) – all evening while GF and I went to town but she, bless her ever-curious self, showed more mercy: ‘I feel he’s overdressed’ she said. I felt obliged to concur, and so we teamed up to peel off his clothes until he lay naked – and rather proud – between us.

GF and I caught each other’s eye across his chest and, in our secret sign language, silently agreed on how we would divide our prize. I went one way with my lips and GF went the other, each pinning down an arm so that The King was helpless but to suffer our treatment.

Events become blurred in memory after that, but I seem to recall that GF and I were locked in a deep kiss as she sat astride The King’s face while I straddled his hips, demonstrating my posting form at a brisk trot. I also remember reclining in the crook of the by-now exhausted King’s arm, looking down at the top of GF’s head as she busied herself in my vulva. She raised her head, face breaking into the broadest grin, and declaring ‘God, I love pussy!’

We slept in a happy puppy-pile, me in the middle of the fortunately wide bed. We woke to the sun streaming around the curtains and sleepy ‘good-mornings’ from all. Nary a sound from the street or within the hotel, we were in our own bubble in space. GF leaned over to kiss me good morning, lingering just a little, and then executed a snake-like move to cross over my body and embrace The King. ‘Your Majesty’ (actually, she called him by his name, but for the purposes of this story..) ‘you didn’t save any dessert for me last night. How about a little breakfast snack?’.

I’m proud to say that The King came through to deliver a very full helping of nutritious protein to his hungry servant, while I cheered him on and perhaps stole a little nibble here and there...

All good stories have a happy ending, and ours was no exception. We parted that morning, knowing that each of us had brought and given their best and that we were all enriched and connected more deeply through the experience.

I’d gladly relive that night but, then again, shouldn’t we always look for new experience – to expand our horizons? If you agree.. Let's Connect