Queen Sheba Facesitting Mga Nobela at Kwento

Keisha keeps peeking at me to make sure I’m not overdoing it. “I’m fine,” I whisper. “You say that every time,” she whispers back. When we transition into a supported squat, I feel the baby shift slightly. It’s subtle. But it’s there. A tiny reminder. I press my palm lightly against my stomach and breathe through it. By the end of the session, I’m relaxed in a way that feels earned. Not forced. Not distracted. Just calm. Outside the studio, Keisha checks her phone and groans. “I’m late. I have a 10:30 call.”

she repeated arching her brow. Terry gulped hard moving backwards to the seat though he was slow, he was scared that the queen might be trying to test his loyalty by asking him to sit down when he shouldn’t sit, after all what right does he have to sit with the queen of the land “my queen it isn’t right that I sit when…” Queen Emma cut in immediately looking a little provoked “I am sure you aren’t deaf Terry, I asked you sit down, I said you should sit down or do you prefer to hang in the air? She raised her brow glaring at his face.

She leans down to pat me on the head and sadness enters her eyes again. “All will be clear when the time is right. But get ready for things to change Adelaide. The time has come.” I swat her hand away and try to feel if there’s any more water in me. “You sound like Alizadeh.” I wait and watch for some recognition to flicker across her face but the Queen maintains a melancholy expression. She goes to the only thing that resembles a seat here, the stump of wood that protrudes from the earth and she sits. “Let’s clarify some things shall we?”

The Queen herself sits upon a magnificent throne, her regal presence commanding respect and admiration. With a deep breath, I approach the Queen, bowing respectfully before her. Her piercing gaze meets mine, and I can see a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. I speak with a voice filled with reverence, "Your Majesty, I come before you seeking an audience. There is a matter of great importance that requires your attention."

"Abbie, right there. On your back." "Hell yeah, baby. This is gonna be fuckin' tits, yo." She pranced across the room, her own tits bouncing madly, and plopped herself down. Her knees bent, thighs spread. "Tabitha... sit on her face." "Wait, what? Oh this better be one of those things where you're gonna fuck me while you suck face with the stick girl. Because if you think you're gonna shut me up just by havmmf smmfmm..."

She doesn´t speak, simply watching me, wide-eyed, with an air of waiting. In a silent mood, Babe? Perhaps, with all you have to think about right now... "Lie back. Relax." I sit, perched on the edge of the table next to her, my hands flat to her belly "Now, would you like a massage or a massage?" She writhes, stretching and smiling, her green-grey eyes intense. "I think I´ll leave that to the masseur." Relaxing back, she lies framed by her sea of red hair, her skin very pale even against the white towel, spine arched, knees slightly akimbo. She gazes at me, lips slightly parted.

she said, still lowered in a bow, she wasn't just making the mistake of looking into my face… Was it a bad thing to look into a Queen's face or something? "Lead the way." @pop precious

The door bang shut on its own behind me, making me jump in fear. I walked further into the room and a little candle lit up in front of me. The Queen of Umbraeth sat in front of me in a silk dress that exposed her cleavage and her creamy legs that she put around the King's shoulder who was kneeling in between her legs and eating her out. My fist clenched beside me as I stood and watched her moan as she pushed the King's head closer to her pussy. “Fuck, Everan.” She threw her head back in pleasure. “Just like that. Yeah, don't stop.”

I clasped my fingers in my lap, trying not to look nervous, with my back straight and my eyes dodging all those curious stares. A small, practiced smile on my lips even though no one was really talking to me directly. There were several women near the King, stretched out on the huge camel-colored sofas on either side of him, each one more beautiful than the last. None of them were Omegas, at least not that I could see. But one Alpha in particular was closer to him, the one filling his glass. I was sure, from her sharp aura and the way she looked down on us, that she was the Queen.

the queen said, amidst a subtle bow. The queen lifted her head, approaching the dais, and sat on her throne, her shoulders squared, her red robe pooling around her like a dark, fiery aura. Her sharp crimson eyes weighed Madam Jessica with a critical squint, and her facial features were accentuated by a cold, calculating smile. With one leg crossed over the other, her light auburn hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of night. Madame Jessica didn't hesitate to make herself look so pathetic.