Anne was a constant playmate of ours for nearly a year before I found them together alone. I was five months pregnant and had only begun to show. Even in my state, I was delirious with desire. I had written Phillip a sensual poem, which I could not wait to share. I hastened to his room through the secret passages and tunnels he had shown me. I stopped short of pushing open the door into his chambers. I pushed the door ajar slightly. A gentle moaning made its way to my ears. There I saw Anne bent over Phillip's desk, his royal staff firmly planted within her firm backside.
The heat rose into my cheeks, my chest rose and fell, each breath threatening to give me away. Phillip flipped her over, her legs spread wide open. She held them thusly as he slid within her slickness. He grunted and moaned as he spilt his seed within her. He hungrily kissed her lips. She giggled and wrapped her arms and legs around him as they kissed. He ran his mouth over her throat. Tears stung at the backs of my eyes. They burned hot, rolling over my cheeks, soaking into the high collar of my gown. Fury welled up within me, my hands clenched into balls by my sides. I wanted to hit them. I wanted to watch Lady Anne bleed for her betrayal.
I watched as she kissed down his belly, taking his flaccidness into her mouth, sucking and licking at him. He ran his hands through her hair as she sat upon her knees, closing his eyes. She encircled the tip with her tongue, her hand fondling him, playing over his flesh. He laughed at her, sucking in sharply when she took him fully into her mouth. He grew stiff under her touch. I knew all too well how her hands could bring one to wanting more. Yes, even when you thought you were sated, she could make you cry out and beg for more.
I tried to hold my tears in, to stifle the hate that boiled within my blood. I wanted to rip her eyes out, to scratch at her pretty skin, to tear her golden hair from her head. I watched as she smiled up at him, as she rubbed him against her soft cheek. Her tongue lapping up and down. Her lips kissing his thighs, and stirring his blood. Phillip yanked her to her feet and brought his lips to hers, devouring her mouth. Anne leaned up against his desk, basking in his touch. His fingers toyed and pricked at each pert nipple. His lips suckled her throat and nibbled her ears. I could hear the soft moans escaping her lips, those two beautiful lips that I had known as my own. She was mine as surely as Phillip had been.
She thrust her chest out to meet Phillip's lips as his tongue darted over each nipple. Anne arched her back and sucked in a sharp breath as his teeth grazed her flesh. Anne's slender fingers came down to carress beneath her curls, her fingers fluttered wildly and Phillip smiled with smug satisfaction to watch this angel pleasure herself. His hands ministered to her prickled skin, the gooseflesh brought on by his every touch. She moaned and writhed, the waves of warmth spreading through her body.
Phillip grabbed her legs and shoved her onto her back across the desk. He thrust mercilessly into her as her head thrashed from side to side, the tiny moans crescendoing into one long release. Phillip pounded away at her, not the loving way at which he made love to me. There was passion in the way their skin slapped together as he slammed into her over and over again. There was anamilistic urgency. He thrust hard into her, pushing her body nearly sliding her off the desk. He would jerk her back and thrust ever harder, until at last he slammed hard writhing above her, kissing her lips and fondling the pliable flesh of her backside.
I heard the sound of my voice, "A DIOS MIO, Oh My God!" I felt my hand slam the door open. I tore over to the pair and slapped her across the face. She scrambled for her clothes, a mask of confusion descending over her brow.
