Afterward, as the jester bowed, his piercing green eyes met the princess's, and he winked knowingly. Blushing, she fantasized of him through the rest of the king's audience.
Later that night, in her chambers, she lay naked on her bed with the jester, who kissed her neck and traced his fingers from chin to pert breasts, teasing her hard nipples. She mewed and wriggled closer to him, her hands pawing the sheets.
"Let's run away," said the jester. "Tonight." His finger slid lower, down her belly, through the tuft of hair over her mound, to the glistening, wet slit between her thighs. A moan escaped her mouth as she lost herself in the jester's touch. He kissed her neck, her breasts, her nipples. His fingers found her clitoris and rubbed. She writhed under his hand, and imagined her life with him.
Perhaps they would build a cottage and raise chickens. In summer they would make love on the grass, under the stars. In winter, they would explore their lust before a crackling fire. She came apart at the thought, shuddering in climax, dripping on her lover's hand.
The princess marveled at the jester, overcome with desire for the handsome, clever man in her bed. She mounted him, positioning her hips over his large, engorged member. Beaming, she whispered "yes!" and lowered herself onto him, taking first the head, then the shaft, sliding down inch by inch. She groaned as he filled her.
Sounds of lust echoed through the princess's chambers. The jester grunted as he thrust himself into his royal lover, each bounce eliciting a whimper from her. One of his deft hands slid up her thigh until his thumb met her swollen nub. Each stroke sent shocks of ecstasy through her body.
With an arm around the princess's waist, the jester lifted himself up, flipping his lover and rolling with her, keeping his hard cock deep inside her. On top, he pounded her with all his might. Their hips slapped together as they fucked, primal moans and lustful screams harmonizing in a symphony of bliss.
