PASSION FOR TINION (WIP Novel 120,000 words)
© Cupideros, October 21, 2006
Chapter 38: QUEEN AND KING HONEYMOON
© Cupideros, Thursday, May 14, 2009
Queen Morah’s bare feet pushed open her bedroom door. She did not release her arms from Lord Tweezer’s neck though. Madam Rose said “The male, especially the married male watches carefully to see how fast a woman descends from his loving arms after she’s over the wedding suite threshold. His vizard veils insecurity, she in all her dominating female glory, attractive soft curves, pleasant smells and colorful attire, might be carapace—that is a disguising, often ornamental shell. She offers her body and not her heart. For man, so often use to pursuing, lack suitable game plans after the woman’s capture. Quodarian women do the pursuing now. This new territory in relationships, woman pursing the man, cannot be expected to play out in a duplicate fashion. For a woman, never lacks follow-up plans after the man’s capture. Quodarian women do cease assuming every new man, and his old culture departed even on Quodarian soil. Every Quodarian woman, no matter how gorgeous or powerful, does herself a favor, and her husband, by assuming, her man has pursed females all his life.”
Queen Morah pursed her lips, closed her eyes while Lord Tweezer took in the revamped boudoir done over in all white, his favorite color. His heated lips descended slowly. She felt his heart beat faster from the view. His kiss felt tender. He felt loved. Madam Rose said, “The male wants nothing more than to be loved, for himself. He does not want love because he is King, Prime Minister, CEO or a manager. He wants you girls to love him for himself. He does not get that often enough. In time with females pursuing males, he will feel more comfortable knowing you love him for himself, and perhaps his good looks. That time is far away, I’d say even beyond fifty years time.”
He gave he the traditional twirl as he took in the boudoir view again. “You decorated in my family’s colors.”
“White, with a touch of red.” She reeled him in for another kiss as he advanced to put her on the bed. The fact her black robe fell open exposing her furry sex didn’t bother her. She wanted to apply every surreptitious act of femininity tonight. He expected no less. “No man wants a woman to just throw off her robe or wedding dress and flop on the bed, spread her legs and say ‘fuck me,’ or ‘let’s fuck.’ No. No. No. Madam Rose had cautioned. He wants drama and dreams on his wedding night. Something to remember, and Madam Rose would snap her steel tip cane on the floor on “remember.” And girls, young ladies, you too want this drama and dream. For all your lives, you waited to apply such woman stealth using all your powers, all your might.”
Lord Tweezer chuckled. “If you don’t let go,” for Queen Morah now sat gingerly, legs together on the bed, Lord Tweezer bent over, but still Queen Morah had not let his neck go. “I’m going to think you’re a cuttlefish or worse.” His deep voice laugher soothed her.
“Satisfied, I am yours and yours alone, now?” she said letting her arms from around his neck.
“Quite.” He stood looking at her. Admiring her. She sat motionless, except for straightening her hair behind her black robe again. He looked powerful standing there and he relished the feeling. He knew she knew his nakedness under his robe. Every moment in her heated presence hardened his sex. “I can’t say why, but,” he reached out too, to stroke her long red hair, “this honeymoon far exceeded the wedding.” He stopped stroking her already well-fingered combed hair. They had both done an expert hairdresser’s job. “I am a nut for ceremony.”
She threw her legs from the ladylike astride position and in a flash, Lord Tweezer saw her wet sex before she grabbed his strong hairy thighs and brought him closer to her. Her legs now straddling outside his. “I understood as such,”
“And after Kinum ruined the moment,” he turned Queen Morah’s head further up away from his crotch, up to his relaxed face, “I thought I’d be miserable in this marriage to save Tinon.”
“I sympathized your wrecked ceremonial plans.” She pulled him down on her, between her legs. Her robe naturally parts unearthing her ruby inner lips and beige outer lips for a second. His robe still playing loincloth fell onto her soft sex. "But now Lord Tweezer. We shall make soup and you will forget all about Kinum, danger and deceit.”
Lord Tweezer raised the stakes by parting his robe in a matador flourish as Queen Morah lay her arms harmlessly by her side. Her blue eyes stared into his dark ones. She felt his progenitor member insistence gentle thudding with her flesh. Lord Tweezer’s eyes sought Queen Morah’s soft ones. He pushed inside her tight wet and soft sex in one lunge; she reacted like the venomous sea snake, which immobilizes fish with quick-acting venom—SLAP!
Lord Tweezer, in to the hilt, barely lay his hand down to her side, before he felt her sting. He froze in place. “What is this!”
“The Moksha Slap!”
“Explain this!” he nearly fumed, still into the hilt, still hard, still basking in her wet tight vise.
“We are balanced now! You gave me a piercing blow. I returned the favor!”
Their eyes locked.
Lord Tweezer said, “I shall never forget this—“
“Moksha Slap! That is why we Quodarian women deliver it whenever the man enters her.”
“You expect me to be slapped every time I have sex with you!”
“The Moksha need only be delivered once, the first virgin time a couple engages in sex.”
“Does this help Quodarian women get pregnant?”
“No. It helps Quodarian women’s men stay married and loyal!”
Lord Tweezer grinned. His face, decorated with Queen Morah’s fading palm print, softened. “I must admit. I expected to soften down below after realizing what had happened. But strangely enough, I feel invigorated. Strong. More manly.”
“Instincts, hormones, reaching the male reptilian brains is why. Men forget women after the sex act.”
“Oh, that shall be difficult to do now.”
“And yes, a loyal committed man does help a Quodarian woman or any woman feel content in pregnancy and delivery of their child.”
Lord Tweezer lay on her lush body softly and Queen Morah laughed.
“Dear Husband, I do not think less of you. For like a true man, you accepted my Moksha without fleeing or fighting. Had you done either, I would have publicly divorced you!”
“I have some say in whether we get a divorce!”
“What say you?”
“It’s about time I got married. A King always needs an heir.” He raised himself on both palms. Men forget these little stately duties. He said moving inside her and out slowly.”
“But we must learn new things. First, I teach you how to make soup. It is not difficult.”
“I want to stay inside you a long, long time.”
“That won’t happen the way most men sex a woman. Only the how to make soup way will satisfy you and I. Let me show you,” she said as she wrapped her long legs tightly to his. “Stay close to me, Dear Husband. Fill my cunt with your penis—to the hilt. Focus on your hilt.”
“Ah. I am beginning to understand.” Lord Tweezer said slowly, “This is sweet.”
“You let the woman do all the work. She will satisfy herself by bringing you to new heights of pleasure, long pleasure. We could potentially do four hours. Is four hours enough for King of the Galans?”
This thought shocked Lord Tweezer. He’d come to believe sex lasted the average fifteen to thirty minutes. Then one takes a break and comes back for thirty minutes to an hour. “Four hours?”
“Shhh,” Queen Morah said and her hands clasped Lord Tweezer’s manly face between her soft warm hands. “See I am embracing your face now. Feel my heat below and above.” She paused. “You do have the face of a King.”
He smiled and sank deeper into his strange Queen. “Teach me this, how to make soup. For I was bored with sex brevity. War became my past time.”
“We make love, not sex, My King, My Husband.” She put her arms around his broad back. Lay on me and let us continue to make love not war.”
***
Four hours later, Lord Tweezer had come two times, once in the second hour and near the end of the fourth hour. “This is amazing. I’ve been deprived all these years.”
“Women feel the same way.”
“No doubt in my mind, our commonly held sex style serves procreation purposes, not love purposes.”
“Why would procreation need long. Once the seed is delivered, the couple can depart forever.”
“What a waste for generations of humanity to have missed out.”
“Queen XI’I 390 wrote How to Teach Men to Make Soup.”
“Holo “Kitty” Gram keeps asking for permission to discuss this book on her show—“
“Speculative Religion Live!” exclaimed Queen Morah. “You watch that!”
Lord Tweezer blushed. “Don’t tell anyone. Every kingdom needs a court jester. Mine happens to be shared with 1 billion people on two planets,” He laughed. He pulled Queen Morah on top of him.
“Oh, My Stud Husband wants to go again!”
“One soup is not enough for a King.” He wet his finger and placed in on Queen Morah’s huge nipples. “I can’t forget how hard and big your nipples were in the shower.”
“They were bigger when wet me down with your soup.” She tweaked her own nipples back to their voluminous size. "Did you not notice?”
He laughed, used his tongue to wet his lips. “I was preoccupied,” and his lips sucked in Queen Morah’s enlarged dark nipples.
***
Queen Morah waved her hand about the cozy bridal suit designed like a late 20th century bedroom with a four post bed, lace curtains all around the wooden post. "We have everything you need. Lomara will send us food at 8 A.M, 12 Noon and at 7 P.M. We have a list of your favorite meals from Vice Chancellor Akyria. On the serving table is the Charade Red Wine," naked she walked over to it. She picked up a small goblet glass and poured the liquid inside. Ice rattled in a red, black and white bucket. She turned back to Lord Tweezer. "You like it slightly chilled."
Lord Tweezer paused looking at her bum. "You've . . . thought of everything. What are all these flowers? Are you a horticulturist?" He said looking at around the room. He took the glass from her hand and sipped. Nodded. "Very well done. This wine is excellent. A warrior's wine."
Queen Morah gave him a cautious cool look as she picked up a goblet for herself. "I prefer to think of wine as a medicinal aphrodisiac."
“I don’t think you need an aphrodisiac.” His gaze lowered down her body. “Not the way you make soup.”
"I'm quite feminine though," she sat down and lined up her face with the lying Lord Tweezer’s again. "I like to be taken softly, with gentleness." She took another sip of wine. “Even if you want the old style sex, gentleness always wins over a woman’s heart.”
He stared at her and narrowed his eyes. His dark eyebrows almost touching. Quietly put his wine on the small table next to the covered bed. The clink of class against wood echoed in the room. He gently took her wineglass and put it beside his. He held her upper arms and looked into her deep blue eyes. He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent. He hands wondered up to her shoulder.
The two made love almost every other night. Vice Chancellor Akyria took over the throne for Galan and Jaine assisted the all duties of Queen Morah for the four months they were away. The couple couldn't tell if the pregnancy would take before, because the higher psi abilities of the Galans made it possible for a woman to potential become fertile before her time. Not necessarily a guaranteed this would happen, but enough crossbreed cases confirmed the phenomena.
They continued preoccupied with sex. They continued falling deeper and deeper in love. They grew fond one of another.
The laughter from the room became more raucous and louder each month. They played Galan and Quoardians games brought in by Lomara. They watched films from the Mother's For Loved Quoardians Children; an agency dedicated to providing nature's child-raising manuals. Every Wednesday watched the antics of Holo “Kitty” Gram’s Speculative Religion Live!
End chapter 38
“No man wants a woman to just throw off her robe or wedding dress and flop on the bed, spread her legs and say ‘fuck me,’ or ‘let’s fuck.’ No. No. No. Madam Rose had cautioned. He wants drama and dreams on his wedding night. Something to remember, and Madam Rose would snap her steel tip cane on the floor on “remember.” And girls, young ladies, you too want this drama and dream. For all your lives, you waited to apply such woman stealth using all your powers, all your might.”
---ON THE HONEYMOON, FROM THE POISON DOVE TRAINING OF MADAM ROSE #204
