title: Marriage of State
author: Uther Pendragon
keywords: Mf 1st

If you are under the age of 18, or otherwise forbidden by law to 
read electronically transmitted erotic material, please go do 
something else.

This material is Copyright, 2003, Uther Pendragon.  All rights 
reserved.  I specifically grant the right of downloading and 
keeping one electronic copy for your personal reading so long as 
this notice is included.  Reposting requires previous 
permission.

If you have any comments or requests, please E-mail them to 
me at anon584c@nyx.net.  

All persons here depicted, except public figures depicted as 
public figures in the background, are figments of my imagination 
and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly 
coincidental.

                        #  #  #   #  #  #

                        Marriage of State
                       by Uther Pendragon
                        anon584c@nyx.net


His French is very strange, although Parisians might mock us 
both.  That horrid jumped-up wine merchant, Geoffrey, certainly 
would.  I'll have to learn Bavarian, of course; but that can 
wait. 

Meanwhile, the preparations move on.  We're always being 
rushed from one place to another, but nothing seems to get done.  
It will all be done by noon tomorrow, however, or won't be done 
at all. 

My gown is terribly ornate.  This is a wedding, not a coronation. 
That will come sooner or later.  I will say with all honesty that 
it can come later for all my wish. 

He is not *that* old, closer to Henry's age than to Father's.  I 
hope that he can be as merry as Henry can.  We don't see much of 
each other outside of public occasions, though.  I can't remember 
even Henry being merry with the whole court looking on.  The talk 
in privacy will come soon enough. 

Let me be honest.  The privacy will come tomorrow night, and 
that is much too soon. 

                              - = - 

The Latin was almost the same, at least.  The marriage service 
seemed much longer than others I've attended.  I say so to Henry 
when we get a moment to speak after the feast.  "It lasts much 
longer when one is at the altar," he answers.  "I can remember my 
own wedding.  Let me get you a cup of wine, and you can get back 
to the dancing." 

"I think that I have had too much wine already." 

"No, little sister, not nearly enough."  I take his meaning, 
and his offered cup.  Hereafter I will drink when I am not 
dancing. But I am already a little dizzy. 

                              - = - 

The ladies lead me to the bedchamber and remove all my clothes, 
but they let me get into bed well before the gentlemen lead him 
in.  They do this gravely, with less merriment than the women 
showed.  The men who relieve him of his clothes are permanently 
charged with the task and do it neatly.  The king makes pushing 
motions with his hands.  "Rouse, rouse," he says.  Far from 
arousing them, this gets them out.  He turns in the doorway to 
look straight at me where I am cowering under the covers.  "Good 
night, Princess," he says.  He walks through the door and it 
closes behind him.  It was kind of him to learn that much 
English. 

Now we are alone. 

I can't help looking at his center as he walks towards the bed. 
He is not totally erect, but getting more so.  It looks awfully 
large.  Then he gets under the sheet.  His motion in doing so 
exposes my breasts.  I pull the sheet back up.  "Marie'e" he says 
and pulls it down again.  That is true; I am a bride.  Or we are 
married; whichever he meant, it is true. 

He leans over and kisses me.  This is our second kiss on the 
lips, before this it was my hand.  His tongue invades my mouth. 
Does every bridegroom do this?  I know about the other invasion, 
am prepared for it.  But this seems somehow more intimate. 

His hand is on my breast, as well.  This is supposed to be 
exciting, like spinning around.  I don't feel that.  It is all I 
can do to keep from cringing.  He rubs there for a moment, 
strokes down to my center.  I can't help moving my legs together. 
When he pulls them apart, though, I don't resist.  He feels my 
center for a minute, then climbs between my legs.  I raise my 
knees and spread my arms out as Mother taught me to do.  I also 
grit my teeth.  He fumbles down there for a moment, and then I 
feel it pressing against me. 

He lunges forward and inward.  That *hurts*, and I scream.  He 
pulls the top of the sheet to my mouth.  I take it between my 
teeth, and he moves inward once more.  When I am full, crammed to 
bursting, with him, I feel his groin pressed against mine.  He 
kisses me, invading my mouth once more.  Then he is moving back 
and forth above me and within me.  The strokes hurt significantly 
less than the first one, but they hurt none the less.  He pushes 
so hard that my head bangs up against the headboard.  He grunts 
and -- then -- collapses. 

He is heavy on me and panting in my ear.  "Frow," he gasps.  I'm 
not frowzy; I bathed this morning.  When I hear him begin to 
snore, I push him off me.  Then I have to pull the covers from 
underneath him. 

I am a princess.  I will *not* cry. 


The End
Marriage of State  
Uther Pendragon
anon584c@nyx.net
2003/08/28

Thanks to Denny for editing this. 

Another story about another couple beginning marriage:
forest.txt 
"Forest"


The index to almost all my stories:
/~Uther_Pendragon/index.htm