Thursday, July 12, 2007

A Fairy Tale . . .

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a miserable, old King. His Royal Court included many of the bravest Knights in the Land, and well as the Lords and Ladies of The Realm who had somehow earned their way into the disagreeable old King's favour. His possessions were many, with some accepted as rarest in all the Land. But none were more rare, nor as lovely, as the old man's beautiful Queen, Gwenelle; a nineteen year old dark-haired beauty with the most magnificent, voluptuous breasts anyone had ever laid eyes upon.

Sir Gabriel, the King's bravest Knight, was mesmerized by the young beauty's stunning endowments. The Knight vowed, to himself of course, to single-handedly slay ten dragons for a single touch of The Queen's perfect pair. But alas, poor Gabriel knew it was never to be. The old King was an extremely jealous man. And the Knight knew the penalty for his desire would be an excrutiating death, should he ever try to touch Her Majesty's glorious breasts.

On a day like any other, Sir Gabriel finally broke down and confessed his secret desire to a colleague, the King's Royal Physician. As the Knight sobbed, unable to keep his Dark Secret any longer, the Physician patiently listened. Finally the Physician quietly said, he could arrange for Gabriel to satisfy his urges, with two important conditions. One; Gabriel could not touch The Queen below her Royal waist. And two; the Knight would pay the Physician 1,000 gold coins to arrange it. Without hesitation, the young Knight readily agreed to the scheme.

The very next day, the Royal Physician made a batch of itching powder and secretly entered The Queen's Chambers. He gingerly poured a little bit into The Queen's brassiere as her handmaidens bathed her. Soon after she dressed, the itching commenced and became more intense as dusk approached. Upon being summoned to The Queen's Chambers and upon examining Her Majesty, The Royal Physician gravely informed both the King and Queen only special saliva, if applied liberally for four continuous hours, would cure this type of itch, and that tests had shown that only the saliva of the King's bravest Knight, Sir Gabriel, would work as the cure for The Queen's worsening condition. Though horribly jealous, the old King relented and quickly summoned Gabriel.

When the young Knight arrived, the Royal Physician pulled him aside and slipped Sir Gabriel the antidote for the itching powder, which he quickly put into his mouth. Returning to the couple, the knight barely contained his excitment as Gwenelle shyly slid her sheer robe past her delicate shoulders, revealing those magnificent objects of his Desire. And, for the next four hours, with the jealous old King sitting nearby, Sir Gabriel licked every inch of The Queen's beautifully voluptuous breasts. He played her upper body like an instrument; lightly teasing with his tongue, then pressing his face deep into her generous mounds. Gabriel was indeed, in Heaven! As the Royal Phsician had predicted, Gwenelle's itching gradually subsided, then stopped altogether. Sir Gabriel was completely satisfied, completely exhausted, and the miserable old King was forced to grumble his thanks to his bravest Knight.

Sir Gabriel returned to his own Chambers, and slept soundly. But soon, there was a loud knock at his door. The Royal Physician pushed in, demanding his payment of 1,000 gold coins for the services he rendered. But with his fetish now completely satisfied, Sir Gabriel could not have cared less about his obligation. And, knowing the Royal Physician could never report this matter to The King, Gabriel simply laughed and told him to get lost.

The very next day, the Royal Physician slipped a massive dose of the very same itching powder into the old King's underwear. The old King immediately summoned Sir Gabriel . . .

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Q: Where can men over the age of 50 find younger women who are interested in them? A: Try a bookstore under fiction.