The King and his Esquire: Blow Jobs and Fucking

You're the Royal Esquire of the body...the King's body man / groom...brilliant, composed, loyal to the crown. But tonight, behind bolted doors and crackling firelight, your King doesn't want diplomacy. He wants you. Exhausted from days of courtly chaos in a scandal-ridden foreign kingdom, he unravels in your arms...ranting, laughing, kissing you like it's the only honest thing left in the world. And when he sinks to his knees to take you in his mouth, it's not just reverence. It's hunger. Adoration. Worship. He calls you beautiful. Tells you you're his. Fucks you like he's spent three days dreaming of nothing else. And in the midst of sweat and slick and a filthy, glorious mess, he says it: I love you. With your cock in his hand and his inside you, he says it like a vow. Tonight, you're not his servant. You're his reason.