Nerys awoke in a haze.
Up in the clouds, there wasn’t much that could stop light from filtering through the airship windows. And as the Grandcypher rocked gently as it cruised through the sky early rays of the morning sun shone through the porthole windows in her room, the warm light spilling across her bed and dappling the skin of her bare legs.
The dream she’d been having before waking rested in her mind’s eye and it was enough to make even her blush, but not out of shame. Other women might feel impure or indecent to be plagued by such lecherous dreams, but Nerys was not like most women—matters of sexuality were human nature, after all.
Though she assumed most women weren’t having sex dreams about bedding the King of Wales. Or maybe they were...he was rather well-liked and conventionally attractive to boot.
It had been a few weeks time since she’d run into Aglovale last, and it had been the first time she’d seen him in nearly twenty years—though they continued to correspond for some time after her initial departure from Wales, their conversations documented in the letters she kept locked in a chest under her bed.
It was in these letters that childlike friendship grew into a teenage crush, and that manifested now as a strange mix of unrequited feelings she now held today, reignited by her seeing him again. And one of those feelings was apparently a healthy dose of lust if the contents of her dream were anything to go by.
Remembering the dream once more directed her attention to the undeniable wetness that had pooled between her thighs. The gusset of her undergarment was slick with the proof of her desire, and as Nerys slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of her underwear her pussy all but throbbed with need.
Giving in to her need, she slid her hand down further until her fingertips were dipping into the wetness at her core. Sufficiently lubricated, she pulled her hand back just enough for her fingers to settle upon her clitoris, beginning to move in the tight circular motions she always came apart with.
Nerys couldn’t hold back a gasp when she began to touch herself. She was never one to hold back on relieving herself, so to say, of these urges...but it had been quite some time since she’d been able to focus on a little self care. The crew was always incredibly busy and she was no exception, which didn’t leave much time for the frivolity of getting off.
But she was a woman with needs, and those needs were being met this quiet morning. She was cognizant to keep her voice down as she continued to masturbate, not wanting to disturb the peace. The Grandcypher was a wonderful airship, but the walls weren’t always the most soundproof...and she thought it best to keep this a moment to enjoy by herself.
Her eyes fluttered, fingers increasing pressure against her clit as she played the events of her dream over and over in her mind once more. It all began when Lord Aglovale invited her to tea at the castle after meeting again in the town square...
“If it’s quite alright with you, Nerys, I think I’ve sated my appetite for tea,” Aglovale would say, looking up at her with eyes narrowed, a sly expression upon his face.
“Well, what are you in the mood for now?” she would reply, leaning a bit closer to the king.
Without missing a beat he would close the distance between them, his lips brushing against hers—
“You.”
In an instant he would be atop her, pushing her back into the cushions of the sofa, his solid body looming above hers (inexplicably out of his armor now, if only because Nerys didn’t actually know how armor of that caliber was removed.) His mouth would start on her lips before trailing to her jaw, then her neck and the sensitive skin at the crook of her collarbone.
“I’ve dreamt of this,” he would say against her skin before raising his head and holding her chin so she would look at him.
“So have I,” she would breathe, unable to tear her eyes from his.
(The conversation in a sex dream is rarely the most important part, and as such is rarely that deep or meaningful.)
Aglovale would catch her in a kiss as he entered her, one of his hands cradling her cheek and the other gripping her thigh, pulling her leg up to grant deeper access inside of her. She wouldn’t be able to hold back a moan against his lips as she felt him, his girth stretching her in ways she hadn’t been in far too long.
Nerys swore she felt herself get a bit wetter when she imagined Aglovale taking her. She all but ached as she thought of it, and feeling the need of something inside of her she hastily slid two fingers into her pussy.
It was no replacement for a man, but it certainly felt good. Nerys turned her head to the side and moaned into her pillow as she pumped her fingers in and out of herself, thinking about Aglovale doing the same to her in that dream—the only difference being he was thrusting his cock into her, not his fingers.
Her free hand moving to grab one of her breasts, Nerys all but melted into her sheets as she lost herself to fantasy, hips rising off the bed as she pulled her fingers out of herself and resumed rubbing furiously fast circles on her clit. If the feeling burning in her gut was any indication, she wouldn’t last much longer.
In her dream she never got to see the climax, but just the idea of Aglovale finishing inside of her was enough to inch her that much closer to orgasm. She quivered as the feeling built in her core, a delicious sensation of need that was threatening to break loose at any moment. She almost tried to hold it back for a moment, relishing how good it was feeling until she was able to control it no more.
Her rhythm stuttered as she approached her end, and with a small whimper of Aglovale’s name she was finished.
It had been quite some time since she’d given herself a climax like this. The tension inside of her burst and Nerys was shaking with pleasure with every contraction that rippled through her core...and it was over again all too soon, the echoes of what had just happened ringing in her ears as she caught her breath.
The calm that settled over her was sullied when she remembered one thing, however: Aglovale wasn’t available.
He hadn’t mentioned a Queen of Wales during their visit, but Nerys found it incredibly unlikely that the King of the nation, who was in his thirties, was unwed. And a slight feeling of disgust started to broil in her stomach.
Wiping her fingers off on her underwear she rolled out of bed, stretching her stiff limbs. Walking over to the tall chest where she kept her clothing, she selected an outfit for the day before grabbing a clean set of undergarments and a towel before trodding off to the shower.
The first person to shower in the morning could get the hottest water, which is exactly how she preferred it. The hot water cleansed away the remnants of her morning activities and washed the uncharacteristic shame she was feeling down the drain. Such feelings were unbecoming of her, anyway.