Arthur and Gwen Club
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posted by kbrand5333
Part 3: link


    Gwen falls asleep in Arthur’s arms, but Arthur lays awake for a while, his own thoughts now drifting to their wedding night, guided there door Guinevere’s earlier confession.

    “I love you,” I had gasped, collapsing carefully over her. I didn’t want to crush her, not yet realizing that this petite beauty beneath me is actually a lot sturdier than she looks. “I love u meer than I thought myself capable of loving anyone,” I muttered into her ear and buried my face in her neck. She smelled wonderful. She always smells wonderful. Like those tiny purple flowers. And something else; something unique to her. A sweet, inviting smell that not only reminds me of home pagina and comfort but also inflames my loins with want. No, need.
    “I love u so much, Arthur,” she whispered to me, her delicate fingertips caressing my brow. I laid my head on her chest and squeezed her to me.
    “Am I squashing you?”
    “Not at all,” she said, but I rolled to the side anyway, because I didn’t believe her.
    “Are you… all right?” I asked, suddenly remembering the tear that escaped from her eye when I breached her maidenhead.
    “Yes, Arthur, I’m fine. I knew there would be some discomfort. It’s not your fault, Love.”
    She has this ability to read my mind. I hadn’t zei anything about feeling bad about hurting her, but I was just about to do so.
    We lay together, and I held her to me. I realized that I could live the rest of my life just like this and be the happiest man in the world.
    My hands stroked the soft skin of her back. She was like a beautiful fawn, small and brown and velvety, slender and sleek and graceful.
    “Arthur?”
    “Hmm?”
    “Can I ask u a question?”
    “Of course.”
    “It is… a delicate question. And really none of my business. Never mind,” she stammered, slipping back into one of her meer endearing old habits of saying something and immediately backtracking from it.
    “Guinevere.” I stopped her.
    “Sorry.”
    “I want make this clear right away: never be afraid to ask of tell me anything. There are no secrets between us. What’s mine is yours, and that includes information.”
    She lifted her head then and smiled at me, making my hart-, hart speed up a bit. Then she granted me a leisurely kiss, her swollen lips meeting mine softly, lingering, savoring.
    I love her lips.
    “So what’s your question?” I asked as I pulled away. Things were starting to stir again for me, but I didn’t want to rush her again.
    “How is it that u had never…” she left it hanging for me to fill in the blank.
    “Ah.
That.
    She buried her head into my shoulder, embarrassed. I laughed at her before I could help myself.
    “I did warn u that it was none of my business,” she zei into my chest.
    “Well, I’m going to tell u anyway.” I lifted her face, un-burying it so I could kiss her. “Thing is, I was always meer interested in my education and training – especially my training – to really have been interested in girls all that much. Sure, I noticed them here and there, especially as I got older, but I was too busy. I’d hear other knights talk of their conquests, and it all seemed so…
meaningless. Empty. I just didn’t think it was right to treat a woman like that just because I could, u know?”
    I looked at her. She was staring at me, fascinated.
    “Plus there was also that conundrum of mine with which u are well acquainted.”
    “Ah, the old do-they-like-me-for-me-or-is-it-just-because-I’m-a-prince thing.”
    “Yes, that.”
    “I’m familiar with it, yes,” she smiled at me again, teasing me now.
    “Right. I wasn’t interested in a woman who was only interested in me because of
what I was rather than who I was.”
    “What of the other knights? Surely u must have taken some taunts.”
    “Of course not. I was the prince. They weren’t going to say anything. Not to my face, anyway. Oh, I’m sure there were some petty idiots that thought I was foolish of prudish of perhaps even preferred the company of men; but if anything was said, I never heard it. Which was fortunate. For
them, I mean.”
    She nodded then, clearly understanding my meaning.
    “Then,” I looked right into her soft brown eyes, “once I noticed you, any thoughts, any
stirrings I had were aimed very clearly in your direction. My mind had been made up for me. It was u of no one, I gradually came to realize. Well, once I let myself admit it.” I leaned down and kissed her again. Her proximity was intoxicating. I wondered if this feeling would lessen with time, and hoped that it wouldn’t.
    “Once u
noticed me?” she asked, smirking.
    “Well, yes. I certainly can’t say ‘once I met you,’ because you’d been Morgana’s maid since we were all very young.”
    “True. So when did this miraculous event occur, exactly?”
    “In Ealdor. When we went to help Merlin’s mother and their village.” I knew the answer immediately.
    “Really? That far back?”
    “When u scolded me about turning my nose up at the food. A part of me stood up and took notice.”
    She blushed. I remember wondering if my new bride had a dirty mind.
    “Not
that part.”
    She laughed loudly, confirming my suspicions. I smiled at the thought.
    “It seemed that each time u yelled at me, I loved u more.”
    “Because I treated u like a person, not a prince.”
    “Exactly. I knew where I stood with you. I always know where I stand with you. And I know that u love me for
who I am.”
    “I do. I would love u even if u were a farmer, making Merlin toil away in the fields all day,” she zei then, remembering our conversation at that ill-fated picnic.
    Now it was my turn to laugh. I squeezed her again and kissed her hair.
    “I’m thirsty. Would u like anything?” I asked. I was thirsty.
    “Yes, some water would be lovely, thank you.”
    I got up and filled two goblets and returned to the bed. Then I saw the result of our lovemaking in the form of dried and still-drying blood on her thighs, the sheet, and… I looked down. Some on me as well.
    “Guinevere,” I set the goblets down and sat beside her. “Are u sure you’re all right?”
    She had been laying there with her eyes closed, lounging like a cat in a sunbeam.
    “Yes, Arthur, I’m fine, why?”
    “Well, look,” I guided her shoulders up into a seated position and touched her thigh gently.
    “Oh. What a mess,” she zei casually. This took me aback, but then, she had spent most of her life as a maid as well as a frequent assistant to Gaius, and has probably seen much worse.
    I handed her a goblet and walked over to the fireplace, where I filled an iron pot suspended there from a pitcher. Not enough water, so I went and fetched my washbasin, wrapping a towel around my waist, and filled it some more.
    I swung the pot over the brand to warm the water.
    “What are u doing?” she asked, leaning to look.
    “Heating some water for you.”
    “Thank you,” she said, her voice sounding slightly surprised. She rose from the bed and put the dressing japon, jurk back on. She considered the bedsheets a moment before doing something curious.
    Well, curious to me, anyway.
    She walked to a wardrobe in the corner and brought forth a new sheet for the bed. Then she remade the bed. I tried to help but she shooed me away. “You’ll be meer of a hindrance than a help, Arthur,” she scolded me. So I pulled her to me and kissed her to distraction.
    “Arthur,” she gasped, eyes half-open as she looked at me, “I would like to finish this.”
    “So would I.” I kissed her again.
    She let me kiss her for another moment of two, then pulled away, laughing. “You know that’s not what I meant!”
    Of course I knew. At the moment, though, I didn’t care. But I let her finish her task, because I knew better than to keep her from it.
    While she worked, I checked the water. It will be perfect door the time she finishes the bed. I grabbed a towel and placed it on a chair and had another one folded nearby.
    “No one’s going to want to…
inspect this, are they?” she had asked, sounding slightly disgusted door the common practice of echtelijk bed, huwelijk bed inspection.
    “Like who? I’m the king. It’s not like there is someone above me that will need to bevestig that u were a maiden,” I shrug.
    “Good, ’cause I’m fairly certain that this stain is not going to come out.” She wadded the sheet into a ball and tossed it aside.
    “Guinevere,” I called her to the fireside, holding my hand out to her. She came over, and tested the water.
    “Perfect,” she declared. I knew it would be. “Um…” she started, unsure of how to proceed. I think she was shy of bathing herself in front of me.
    “Sit,” I zei gently, indicating the chair with the towel on it.
    “Arthur?”
    I kissed her then, and said, “Trust me, Guinevere.”
    She sat, a puzzled look on her face as I wet a cloth in the warm water and kneeled at her feet. I reached forward, untied her robe, and eased her vooruit, voorwaarts on the chair. She realized then what I was going to do, and tried to stop me.
    “Arthur, u don’t need to… I mean, it’s very sweet of u to want to, but… I’m not sure if…”
    “Shhh. Let me do this for you, Love. Remember? No secrets,” I kissed her knee. “Also no shyness,” I kissed halfway down her shin. “And no embarrassment,” I lifted her foot and kissed its arch. “Besides, I made this mess, the least I can do is clean it up,” I tried joking, hoping to ease her tension a bit.
    She laughed a little then, and stood a moment, sweeping the bottom half of the dressing japon, jurk out from beneath her, so it wouldn’t get wet.
    I reached for the cloth, squeezed the excess from it and took her left leg in my hand, pulling it towards me, her skin soft under my calloused fingers. I put the cloth to her thigh, gently cleaning the blood away. Her foot rested on my leg, small and delicate, and I remember being struck door how petite she was in comparison to myself. Rinsing the cloth and reapplying it, I applied it higher up, closer to her intimate parts.
    She tensed up again as my hands came closer to her center, and I kissed her leg again, gently, trying to reassure her, remind her that she needn’t be nervous.
    “Relax, my sweet,” I whispered to her as I dipped the cloth again.
    I didn’t want her to think that my wanting to do this was about getting a good look at her luscious little body. It wasn’t, though it was certainly on my lijst of things I wanted to accomplish as soon as possible. I wanted to be close to her in every way possible, to know her as well as I know myself.
    In a way, this act was meer intimate than the consummation of our marriage.
    Both her legs were now clean, and all that remained was the part of her that she was nervous about me touching this way.
    “Guinevere,” I said, “I will be gentle. Please let me finish.”
    She relaxed again, and closed her eyes. I brought the cloth up to her, gently, carefully, removing the last of the blood from her.
    I’d be lying if I zei that it wasn’t arousing. But this was not the time. I fleetingly thought of kissing her there, tasting her, bringing her pleasure with my tongue. I felt stirrings at the thought, so I shook it from my brain and decided to file it away for another time.
    Gwen sighed, apparently finding some pleasure from my touch despite her reservations, and I smiled.
    I was worried that she would be sore and that I would hurt her. If I did hurt her at all, she didn’t let on.
    Dropping the cloth in the basin, I reached down and lifted her foot, kissing the top. “All done,” I said.
    She opened her eyes again and the look she gave me melted my insides. “Thank you,” she said, and leaned down to kiss me.
    She sat back, and remembered. “What about you?”
    “Oh, um, I’m okay.”
    “No. Your turn.”
    Not a good idea. I knew as soon as she touched me I would be beyond all thought.
    “I’m not sure that this is a good idea, Guinevere…”
    “Oh?” She raised an eyebrow at me. At the time I was only suspicious that she understood my meaning. I know now that she understood my meaning perfectly.
    She stood, and pulled me to my feet. She was surprisingly strong. “Sit,” she commanded, indicating the chair that she had just vacated.
    “Um…”
    “Arthur.”
    I sat. “Don’t hold me responsible for anything that may happen,” I decided to say. “You’ve been warned.”
    She just raised her eyebrow at me again, closed her robe, and went back to the pot door the brand for fresh water. Then she knelt before me, removing the towel from my waist.
    I peeked down. “Really, there’s not that much blood there, u don’t need—” my words were cut off door the warm, wet cloth touching my groin. My head fell back and I squeezed my eyes shut.
    Her hand went away, then returned, now touching my manhood boldly, her hand inside the cloth wrapping about it, rubbing gently. I groaned and felt it respond to her touch, growing larger within her hand.
    I was afraid to look at her. I knew if I did I would pounce. I gripped the sides of the chair’s seat, hoping she wouldn’t notice the whiteness of my knuckles of the shallowness of my breathing.
    I heard the water slosh once more, and braced myself for the return of the cloth. I felt something warm and wet surround me, but it wasn’t the cloth. I practically shot from the chair I was so surprised.
    How did she know about
that?
    “Ohhh…” I moaned then, giving in. “Guinevere…”
    She moved on me, stroking with her tongue, pulling me inside her mouth as deep as she could, her hands touching, squeezing gently, rubbing softly.
    It was the most amazing feeling. The only thing better was the feeling of being inside her.
    Her hair tickled my thighs. Her tongue drove me to absolute distraction. Her lips were beautiful as they kissed me this way. I was completely out of my mind, and coming close to my release.
    I put my hand down on her shoulder. It was trembling just slightly. “Guinevere,” I croaked, wanting her to – no,
needing her to stop before I released into her mouth. I wanted her to have some pleasure from this. I wanted to kiss her lips, her breasts, to hold her.
    “Guinevere,” I zei again, now gently adding my other hand to her other shoulder and pulling her up to me.
    “Arthur?” she asked, looking confused and embarrassed. Oh, no. I didn’t want her to think I was unhappy with her, but before I could explain, she continued. “Are you… displeased?” She actually looked close to tears, and I held her tight to me.
    “No, no, Love, not at all. You’re wonderful. Incredible. I just was getting a little too close to…”
    “Oh.”
    “And I wasn’t sure what…”
    She giggled then, and said, “I guess I didn’t think about that.”
    “Also,” I added, lifting her and repositioning her so she was straddling my lap. She angled her head at me, questioningly. “I wanted u to have some pleasure as well,” I concluded, speaking the words low and soft against the skin of her neck, and she sighed.
    “But I was,” she said. I looked up at her beautiful face. Unique. Gorgeous. Wise.
    “You were?” I asked then, snapping myself out of the study I was making of her features.
    “Yes. Bringing u pleasure also brought – oh! – me pleasure,” she said, her sentence interrupted door my realization that her breasts were now tantalizingly close to my face, and I took advantage while she was speaking.
    I pulled my lips from her breast just long enough to say, “Oh?” This was an interesting concept.
    “Yes,” she gasped, clearly enjoying my attention. I slid my hand down from her back, around between us and down, to touch her. I found her moist and warm once again, aroused and ready. She moaned as my fingers slid against her.
    “Indeed,” I chuckled against her, moving to her other breast, running my tongue across her nipple and biting it gently. She gasped, and I realized that I was very much going to enjoy finding out what she likes in the marriage bed.
    Her own hand left my shoulder and reached down to touch me again, and I moaned into her breast. I was also very much going to enjoy her discovering what I like.
    I removed my hand, and she whimpered slightly, disappointed. But then I lifted her door her hips and pulled her toward me, and she understood what I was doing. She guided me into her as I lowered her down over me.
    She held her breath then. So did I. I think we were both waiting to see if she was too sore to continue. She moved slowly, carefully, sliding upwards, then back down, testing. It was torture for me, blissful torture. I wanted her to verplaats faster, harder, to drive myself deep into her until my vision was blurred and my head was spinning.
    She repeated the slow movement once meer and then sighed.
    “Arthur,” she whispered, pressing her breasts against me seductively. I opened my eyes and found her gazing down at me, watching my face. She brought her fingers up and stroked my brow.
    “Okay?” I breathed.
    She leaned down and kissed me. “Excellent,” she zei against my lips, and I claimed them greedily, enjoying their lushness against mine as they parted for me, her tongue stroking mine. I held her hips and helped her move, guiding her as best I could until I could take it no meer and tumbled us from the chair, carefully sinking to the floor, positioning her beneath me once again.
    I thrust into her faster, harder, my own need driving me. She brought both legs around my hips and crossed her feet behind me, holding on, gasping with pleasure.
    “Arth…” she sighed, not even able to finish the word. It only spurred me on, and I leaned down to kiss her again to toon my appreciation.
    I once again felt the beginnings of my release, the warmth like sweet brand spreading from my manhood and through the rest of my body. Guinevere’s lovely brown body writhed beneath me, and it seemed she was also close. I bent down to take her breast in my mouth again, stroking the taut nipple there with my tongue, bringing her closer. I needed her to get as much enjoyment from this as me. I needed it like I needed air of water of nourishment.
    She started to cry out, her head thrown back as she arched her back under me, and I let loose my reins and drove deep, deeper still until I was also crying out as we found our climaxes almost at the same time.


    “No! It’s not true! Please…” Guinevere calls out in her sleep, bringing Arthur back to the present.
    She must be having a nightmare, he thinks, and pulls her to him.

    It was time. I could hardly believe it. After all that had happened, I was walking up the aisle in the troon room, to be married to Arthur. Arthur. The man I loved meer than life, the man I almost lost due to my own terrible and inexplicable lack of judgment.
    I had allowed Elyan to escort me up the aisle, but I won’t look at him. Nor will I let him kiss me as he hands me off to Arthur. I’m still angry with him.
    Arthur is gazing at me, the love in his eyes like a touch on my skin, and my body tingles as he takes my hands in his.
    Geoffrey starts to speak, but I do not hear the words. I see only Arthur; I hear nothing but his words as he repeats the vows. I manage to say the words as instructed of me, but I notice nothing else.
    
Whore. A voice behind me, whispered in my ear. I turn my head. No one is there. No one around me seems to notice.
    
You shouldn’t be up here. I whirl around now, releasing Arthur’s hands. He doesn’t move. No one moves but me. The world is frozen around me.
    “Arthur?” I ask. Nothing. I look to the crowd. “Merlin?” Nothing.
    
You are nothing. Nobody.
    “Stop it! Stop tormenting me!” I scream. I open my eyes and find that I am alone in the troon room. Arthur is gone, Merlin is gone. Everyone is gone.
    
I am but a part of you.
    “Show yourself,” I beg, tears falling from my eyes.
    
All u need to do is look in a mirror.
    “No… He forgave me… he zei he didn’t care anymore.” I drop to my knees, my head in my hands, sobbing now as I did in the council chambers that terrible day. I look down and see that I am no longer in my wedding japon, jurk but instead am clad in the lavender dress I was wearing that day, hair disheveled, hands dirty.
    
But u cannot forgive yourself. u can never forgive yourself. u are nothing but a common serving wench. A common whore. And that’s all u will ever be.
    “No! It’s not true! Please…”


    Guinevere thrashes in her sleep, again crying out, “No!” Arthur holds her tighter, trying to comfort her.
    “Guinevere,” he whispers, stroking her hair, her face, trying to rouse her. “Love,” he kisses her forehead and her cheeks as she struggles.
    Finally she wakes and she opens her brown eyes wide, staring at him, puzzled. Tears are streaming down her cheeks. “Arthur?”
    “Shh, Love, u were having a nightmare,” he says, wiping the tears from her face.
    “Oh. Yes. I must have been.” She blinks a few times, and her eyebrows furrow as she tries to think.
    “Can’t remember?”
    “No. Did I… say anything?”
    “Nothing that would be of any help, I’m afraid.” He strokes her back as she cuddles to him, her head on his shoulder. “You said, ‘No, it’s not true, please,’ and then ‘no’ again.”
    “Hmm. You’re right. Not very helpful,” she says, but she has a sneaking suspicion now. It is one that she dare not even admit to herself, much less Arthur.
    “Nothing can harm you, my love, as long as I am here. Know that much,” he whispered to her, holding her close.
    Can u save me from my own mind? Gwen thinks, burrowing her head into his chest. “Just hold me, Arthur.”
    “My pleasure.”
    She calms down and is so still that Arthur wonders if she’d dropped off to sleep.
    “Guinevere?” he whispers.
    “Hmm?”
    “Do u often get nightmares?”
    “Occasionally. Why?”
    “Just wondering if Gaius might be able to make something to help you.”
    “I’ll think about it. If it continues, I will talk to him, I promise.”
    “Good. I hate the thought of u not sleeping well.”
    “I didn’t wake you, did I?” She lifts her head.
    “No, I was still awake,” he says, gently guiding her head back down to his chest.
    “You were?”
    “Mmm-hmm.”
    “Something troubling you?”
    “No. I was just thinking.”
    “Oh?”
    “Yes. About our wedding night.”
    Guinevere giggles against his chest then, and he leans down and kisses the top, boven of her head.

Part 5: link
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posted by kbrand5333
Part 3: link


    Much to her surprise, Arthur helps her clean up the kitchen, drying dishes for her and attempting to figure out where things go.
    “Just set them on the table, Arthur,” she laughs. “I’ll put them away later.”
    Gwen takes his hand and leads him back to the living room. She finally spots where her knickers landed, and bends to pluck them from the magazine rack with a smirk. She ponders them a moment, and walks to the bathroom and tosses them in the hamper rather than putting them back on. I have a feeling...
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