Message-ID: <1531eli$9706201141@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/Year97/1531> Path: qz!not-for-mail Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us> From: wwmitty@aol.com (WW Mitty) Subject: STORY: pt.1/5 Juan Carlos, King of Spain by W Mitty "Juan Carlos, King of Spain" by Walter Mitty (ww mitty@aol.com) part 1 of 5 copyright 1997 [Feel free to re-post, review, etc. -- but please give me credit. Feel free not to read if you are under 18 or 21, depending on your locality. This story (and most others in this newsgroup, I suspect) is purely fantasy and takes place in a world just like ours, except my penis is huge and STDs are unknown. Finally, I know nothing about the sex lives of Spanish royalty.] PART 1 OF 5 Serrafina and I have been happily married for several years, and the love-making is good if not mind-blowing. As you can probably guess from myname, my wife says I am prone to fantasize excessively; I prefer to say that I have a "rich inner life." Indeed, Serrafina doesn't have any idea how many times she's been ravished by the King of Spain while she plays the Queen of the Gypsies. When I enter her she cries out "Mitty, oh Mitty!" -- Walter being the unsexiest of names and long since banished from the bedroom -- but I hear "Juan Carlos, oh Juan Carlos!" Forgive me my silly pleasures. As I said, I enjoy our love-making, but it is circumscribed by two serious limitations; first, my wife simply will not learn to speak Greek; and second, she has long been unwilling to indulge my fantasy of having a harem, which would be so easily satisfied by simply bringing another woman into our bed. I have it in my head that all the Kings of Spain have been proud adulterers, and who is Serrafina to deny royalty after all? But it is the case that I have not pressed the issue too hard -- I would not tolerate a man in our bed, after all. Let me tell you about Serrafina, my beautiful gypsy, before we go any farther. Her eyes are wild and dark, her skin is buttery, and she laughs when she climaxes. Her breasts are soft gypsy hillocks which she hides underneath baggy and modest clothes, so that only I know that her nipples are tawny thimbles that hum when I kiss them. Her sex smells as sweetly as the morning and tastes even better and when I have strained my tongue and pushed it into her as deeply as I can she will sometimes whisper "motherfucker, motherfucker, motherfucker....." Not long ago my wife's college friend -- call her Isabella -- came to our home for the week. She had recently quit her big city job and wanted to unwind with old friends, as she put it. Serrafina knew that I had mixed feeling about Isabella. On the one hand, she was irresponsible and represented Serra's wild college past, about which I knew very little. The combination of Isabella and Serrafina sometimes brought out the prude in me. Is it just me, or does it seem that all men in these situations know both less and more about their wives' sex lives than they would like? On the other hand, Isabella was sexy and busty and enjoyed provoking me with a flash of breast (accidental?) from beneath her morning robe. Truth be told, Juan Carlos had ridden Isabella around the room more than once in his mind. Late one night, after two bottles of Merlot, Isabella said "I'll be right back," and slipped out of the den. Serra and I were in the habit of sitting up late, just talking and relaxing, and Isabella had quickly taken to our ways. A few moments later she returned with a joint and a lighter. I tensed up. "What's that?" I asked, all prude, no King. "Of course it's a joint, silly. Don't tell me you've never been high," Isabella responded. I had, and I said so. But college pot-smoking had been so long ago and I felt so much more conservative now. Serra spoke up. "I'll smoke with you." "Atta girl," said Isabella, and promptly fired up. Several minutes later, we were all extravagantly high. You didn't think that I'd sit and watch two beautiful women light up without me, did you? And naturally, our talk turned to sex. Isabella began ribbing me about Serrafina. "You know, don't you Mitty, that Serra was quite a wild one at the U. I could tell you all about it." Serra blushed and giggled. The two were sitting awfully close on our couch, and I began to wonder if they had a history. Serra had confessed to the occasional lesbian fantasy, which thrilled me, but I was almost certain that she had never indulged. "No, Mitty, I've never fucked your wife," said Isabella, as if reading my mind. "No Mitty, I'm not reading your mind," she said, apparently reading my mind again, "it's just that a mouse seems to have crawled into your pocket." It was true, and I could only laugh and take another pull on the joint in response. "What's the kinkiest thing you've ever done with Serra, Mitty?" asked Isabella, and I held my smoke while contemplating a response. What sort of question is that to ask a King, I thought to myself, and fantasized about taking out my royal scepter and... "He's drifting away," said Serra. "You have to watch him or he'll be off in fantasyland in no time." Isabella knew that I would never answer such an open-ended question, so she began a laundry list to which I nodded in the affirmative: blowjobs, light bondage, whipped cream, etc. "Have you ever fucked your wife in the ass?" This brought me up short, and I looked at Serra, who laughed and said, "No way. My gate only swings one way! But I bet he'd bugger you if you'd let him," and giggled at the thought of it. Isabella looked me in the eye and asked me directly, "Walter, have you ever had another woman in your bed?" This I answered instantly and truthfully. No, I had never cheated on my wife. The room was quiet, and crackled with sexual tension. It was one of those moments where anything could happen and that anything could be very right or very wrong. "Mitty, why don't you go to the kitchen and refresh my wine," asked Isabella. This I did with alacrity. The King of Spain was happy to flee from his subjects for the time being, having been inflicted with an unpleasant case of royal nerves. As I stood in the kitchen, I could hear Serra and Isabella whispering and giggling, and after several minutes I returned. Serra was smiling, but nervous, and her voice shook as she said, "Sit down between us Mitty." I placed myself on the couch between these two beautiful women, and each held one of my hands. I was perspiring, and was a bit embarrassed by my sweaty palms, but they seemed not to notice. "Okay," said Serra, "here's the ground rules. You can have both of us in your bed tonight, but you cannot put your sex into Isabella's -- that crosses a line I want uncrossed for now." Did this mean that the royal scepter would enter Isabella elsewhere? I looked at her and in response she raised an eyebrow. She leaned over to me and whispered in my ear, "I've never spoken Greek, but I pick up languages quickly." We stood, and I moved on wobbly knees into the bedroom. Tonight the King of Spain would have his harem....... TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2 -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/> .../assm/faq.html> /