Myth of Rose

I wanted to write something quick. I've been reading lots about old civilizations and was inspired to write a story about a king and his daughter destined to be together. I hope it takes you to a far away time and place.

All characters in this story are adults over the age of 18.

***

She walked out of the water looking like something out of the myths of ancient days. She was naked and her skin glistened with moisture in the early light of the first winter stars. Her hair hung to her waist and it swayed in the evening breeze, damp and dark. Everything about her radiated femininity and fertility. Many years she had prepared to become my betrothed, but now on the day of her maturity, it was finally time to consummate our sacred bond.

I moved forth to embrace her, my erection like the prophecy of an oncoming storm. I took her into my arms lovingly as if it was the first time I'd ever held her. She was cold but I warmed her with my touch, and then I took her down onto the bed of soft grass. I kissed her lips and I tasted salt, the sea and the life that flowed inside her.

"Daughter" I said, "daughter, come, let me have you."

She parted her long tan legs for me, and I moved within her towards the entrance to her deepest self. In the distance I heard the cries of sea birds longing for their distant partners and I felt I understood their wild longing.

"Father," she said, "Father. Please take me. Now I am a woman, make me yours."

I took her and we were one, as the land and the sea are one, as the moon and the tide are one, as all things in the world are one.

I moved with her, and I cried out her name.

"Rose!"

Her back arched beneath me and her mouth opened, she was lost in ecstasy. For a moment, I felt my soul touch hers.

"Father. My king!"

And her cry was the cry of the birds, and mine, for I was unmoored as well. I shuddered with the release, our climax, the joy and the love, the consummation of our union.

We were still and the world was quiet, the tide was still far away, the moon was just a sliver in the sky. I held her in my arms, my hands on her full breasts.

"My father, my king," she said.

"My daughter, my queen."

She slept with her head upon my chest beneath the vast expanse of endlessness. The wind was cool, but her body was warm. The stars were out and the sky was deep and dark.

"My love."

A long while later, when she was asleep, I carefully got up and walked back up to the bluffs where the people of our kingdom awaited the completion of our sacred duty. They would have known what had taken place on the beach, but they would have said nothing, and they would not have dared watch. No man may lay with his daughter, but for the King should he choose. And so he chose.

I stood in front of them and told them what had happened.

"My daughter Rose is with child," I said. "Our heir."

"Long live the King! We have an heir!" the people shouted, and they fell to their knees and worshiped me.

My penis stood tall, knowing it would soon return to where it belonged inside the perfection of my daughter, the one chosen by the Crones to be the embodiment of fertility.

***

The next evening came the performance for the Crones. They would watch my union with Rose and sanctify it with their blessing should my daughter pass the final test. The Crones had their own special seats, a wooden structure erected on the shore, and from there they would judge our work. Where for the people Rose had been naked, for the Crones she was made up in the finest fashion, a dress of feathers, her hair tied in the finest silks, her eyes ringed with black and her cheeks with red.

She was examined by the elders, and then she was delivered to me.

I awaited upon my backless throne, my living scepter erect and ready for the ancient women to place my daughter's willing body upon its unyielding length. Rose was led forward, and there was a smile on her angelic lips. When the old women were satisfied, they lifted her dress up to reveal her privates and lowered her upon my shaft.

They set her upon me slowly until her cunt had engulfed the head and the first inch or two. She was already wet and aroused. The need to press up with my manhood was overwhelming, but I controlled my raw desire for her. The night for raw passion had passed and there would be more to come. Tonight was about control.

"You may begin, Rose," said the eldest Crone.

She rose and fell, she fucked me in full view of the crowd, in full view of the Crones, her dress held above her by naked servants so that her body and the joining of our flesh could be clearly seen by all, the Crones most of all. The courtly audience was rapt with attention, the crowds of peasants below riotous with their own lovemaking.

As her movements brought me closer to my end, and my end ever closer to hers, her mouth was open and her eyes closed. She looked like an angel ascending to heaven, and in a sense she was. Both of us were at the end of our tethers, but it was our duty to hold out until at least three strikes of the ceremonial drum the Crones sat near. The first strike hadn't even come yet.

*BOOM*

I wanted to fill her with my fatherly royal seed at the sound, and I wanted her to give in to her lust as well. I could feel her muscles tense around me, her orgasm coming on suddenly. But I had a job to do, and I couldn't allow the same for myself. Not yet. It would be a bad omen otherwise. I clenched my jaw and held on as she danced the sacred dance upon my lap.

The second drum beat.

*BOOM*

I looked to the Crones and saw them watching Rose, their hands working each other's hairy pussies as they watched. There was no doubt that they were enjoying the sight of our coupling. The fact they were visibly pleased already boded well for the future. Rose moved her hips across mine, her hands on her thighs and sweat dripping into the makeup on her face. Our eyes met and she smiled. Her wetness tightened around me and I strained to smile back without losing myself to her.

The third drum beat.

*BOOM*

I couldn't resist. She couldn't either. The moment the sound rang out in the room, her muscles gripped my rod and she began to pulse and milk it. She swelled her hips into my lap with a frenzied rhythm that made the watching audience gasp. The common folk cheered and moaned, screaming their approval at the sight of their new Queen fulfilling her duty by milking me with her body.

My seed exploded from the end of my shaft and filled her up. She cried out and I cried with her, my voice mingling with her own, and the voices of the Crones, and the voice of the drum, and all the people in the streets below who were crying out together as one.

I felt my seed run into her deepest parts as she pressed her body to mine. She was pregnant. We knew it, the people knew it, and the Crones knew it. She would bear the child, the child of a god. And our kingdom would prosper.

The ceremony ended, and we returned to the castle. I lay with her again that night. Her belly was still flat, but would hopefully grow soon. The thought of hope drove us both to act upon that which would remedy that. She lay down, and I mounted her, Father and Daughter, King and Queen, God and Goddess, Man and Woman.

And we knew we would be as such, until the end of time.

***

It was late in the heart of summer and the fields were golden. In the castle courtyard, the harvest was being brought in. The air was sweet with the scent of hay and grain and crushed grass. I was lying with Rose on a sumptuous blanket beneath a sprawling whitebark tree. My hand was placed on her swollen belly, her hair fanned out around her face as we gazed into each other's eyes. She was wearing a loose white gown with blue flowers embroidered on the hem. I could see her tan skin underneath its translucence. My daughter looked up at me as I gazed down at her, her expression innocent and pure.

"Soon, father, our child will be born," she said.

I felt the baby move beneath her skin. It filled me with wonder, just as it had when I had felt Rose kick beneath her mother's skin.

"What should we call her?" Rose asked.

"How do you know the baby will be a girl?"

"The Crones said so, and so did the midwife."

"Then we shall call her Hope," I said.

"Hope," Rose repeated softly. "I like that."

She put her hand over mine and we felt the baby kick together. Something about the sensation drove me to kiss her. She returned the gesture vigorously, and then I took my Queen there in the courtyard, beneath the spreading branches, the sunlight on our skin. I lifted her gown and kissed her swollen belly, her breasts, her mouth. She was beautiful, her skin flushed with lust, her eyes bright, her lips swollen and dark. Our courtiers and advisors had learned to expect our lovemaking, and no one would dare disturb us.

We coupled as the commonfolk toiled to bring the harvest into the keep. The sun beat hot on our backs and the air was heavy with the scent of crushed grain. It was the perfect afternoon, and just as the people filled the keep, I filled her with my seed. She cried out, her voice sweet as birdsong, her eyes closed and her mouth open. The people sang and cried their joy at the sound of her pleasure.

As the year fell, when the leaves were red and gold and the forest was fragrant with the scent of falling leaves, my daughter Hope was born. She was a beautiful child with golden hair and blue eyes, and she looked exactly like her mother.

The people rejoiced. The Crones were pleased. And our Kingdom was prosperous.