Sunday, 17 March 2013

The Pleasure of Enemies: A Cersei and Margaery Tale.

It had been a long and tedious day and the beautiful Queen of Seven Kingdoms wanted nothing but her bed and a decent nights sleep.

Her servants milled about the chamber, tidying the room and preparing her bed for the night while Cersei studied her reflection in the mirror.

'Still beautiful.' She thought with a smile.

'Was there something you wanted?' Cersei Lannister asked when she looked up and saw the girl staring at her from the doorway.

Margaery Tyrell said nothing and came inside, closing the door behind her.

Something in the girls eyes made her send the servants attending her away.

They were completely alone and within reaching distance of each other, when the girl finally answered her question.

'You...I want you.' Margaery says nervously, opening her robe and letting it fall to the floor.

Cersei watches it pool at her feet and then stares openly at the girls naked, exposed form.

I remember my youthful skin.

Running my hands over it in the mirror, Jaime caressing it as we made love.

Robert's rough hands and the mauling he'd give me.

The feel of it beneath my hands when I was alone.

Why does she want this from me?

Does she want me to maul or caress her?

The girl steps so close to her that Cersei can feel her breathing and smell the sweet scent of her skin.

'Rosewater.' She realises with a small smile and the girl laughs.

'Is this some kind of game?' Cersei whispers hotly into the girls ear as she runs her hands and her lips over the smooth, soft skin offered to her.

'Yes. But I'd have thought you, of all people, would know how this game is played.' Margaery says confidently as Cersei kisses her way down her body and goes to her knees before her.

The girl gasps as the Queen kisses her there between her thighs and begins using her tongue to caress the core of her womanhood.

'Oh. I play this game like a champion.' Cersei says with a wicked grin looking up as the girl closes her eyes and gasps with pleasure in anticipation of the feel of Cersei's tongue inside her.

The Queen gladly delivers on the promise until the Margaery's knees give way and the girl slowly slides down between her hands until they kneel together, breast to breast and brow to brow.

Margaery gives a little sigh and her lips find Cersei's as her hands push the Queen back onto the fur rug beneath them.

The girl then removes her clothes, and caresses her expertly.

She's no virgin.

She has done this before.

What else will she do to me to seal her fate?

What will she let me do to her in return?

Margaery fits her body to Cersei's and kisses her as she quickly moves against her.

The Queen's body unexpectedly responds in a way she never thought it would with anyone else.

Her body moves of it's own accord.

The pleasure is indescribable, her release is coming.

She tries to fight it.

To stop her body wanting...

Needing,..

She's no Jaime.

She's no Jaime.

She's no Jaime.

Then the girl suddenly arches her back and cries out as her own release overwhelms her.

That's all it takes to send Cersei over the edge as well.

Little girl.

You will not overthrow me.

The Iron Throne is mine.

And always will be.


Together, they lie, mortal enemies, spent and entertwined on the rug.

Margaery's head rests on Cersei's shoulder and the Queen laughs at the absurdity of it all as they both fall into an exhausted slumber.

Her downfall can wait...

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