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Old 06-16-2015, 01:56 AM   #1
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Default Her Majesty - by Ashblonde (~BHM, Romance, Historical Fiction)

~BHM, Romance, Historical Fiction - This story is not true to any particular era, century or ruler, but one may assume it takes place in the early modern era of monarchy-driven European empires.

Her Majesty
by Ashblonde


Part One

“Your Majesty must find a suitable match to secure your throne,” the aged Cardinal implored the young King.

Edward glared back at him with steely eyes.

“You think I don’t know this?” he shouted back with all the force of his stout body. He turned and stomped heavily across the room.

“It has not been a simple task. There are very few worthy prospects becoming our fair country,” he countered. He grew tired of the constant pressure on making a marriage.

“Your Majesty, please, let me make more inquiries to Denmark. Either of the Princesses would make a fine match and bring you closer to France,” the Cardinal reasoned.

Edward had heard much of the Danish Princesses before. Renowned for their beauty and talents, they possessed all of the qualities that a prince desires, most importantly a large dowry and an advantageous alliance.

Their father was King Wilhelm of Denmark, one of the wealthiest kings in Europe. He inherited a generous fortune and cultivated it further through judicious management of his country’s treasury. More importantly, he was adept at developing alliances rather than engaging in costly wars.

Wilhelm’s wife, Queen Madeleine, was the older sister of King Louis of France. She was close to her brother and had a good amount of influence of opinion in his affairs. As such, Denmark had a permanently strong alliance with the French.

In addition to their advantageous association, the two Danish Princesses were highly sought after by many European rulers for their faultless reputations. King Phillip of Spain was a front runner in Wilhelm’s strategy for Denmark, as he hoped to secure the elder Princess Isabelle, who was not yet twenty, for his son Alfonse, the heir to his Empire.

King Albert, the widowed monarch in Prussia, was also aggressively pursuing a new marital alliance and wanted either girl for himself. At 51, he was aged, but had very favorable ties with the Holy Roman Empire.

Another monarch, Peter, the Tsar of the Russian Empire, was widely known to be young, athletic and ruthlessly handsome. Many thought that either girl would surely have already become his wife, but he was too preoccupied with war and consolidation of lands to actively engage in the politics of marriage.

However, the Tsar had heard that the younger Princess Christina, nearly eighteen, was an exceptional beauty, with no equal on the Continent, so he stationed an ambassador in Denmark to maintain his stake in the matter of securing a mate of fine form and figure.

Cardinal Neville knew his competition for a suitable match for His Majesty in England was fierce, and was gravely concerned over his master’s liabilities. Edward’s father had squandered the royal chest on a war with France that lingered for seven years, with tensions still existing between the two countries. Religious dissent continued to simmer widely in the kingdom, and his father’s enemies were now Edward’s own. Having a male heir would go a long way to prevent a treasonous insurrection and lay many concerns to rest.

But the Cardinal’s silent worry for Edward’s prospects was in regards to His Majesty’s growing corpulence. He had already reached eighteen stone when he was crowned king at the tender age of seventeen. Yet his weight ballooned to more extraordinary proportions in recent years.

Edward was a chubby prince from an early age, but had always been active and sporting. His towering height, burly body and brute strength intimidated opponents on the jousting field and the fencing court. He was considered the most attractive of his father’s sons, but there were always whispers about his tendency toward roundness.

Upon assuming the throne, his sporting activities declined as he spent his days and nights concerned with matters of the state. He found culinary indulgence to be his only satisfaction, and eagerly partook in its delights. In the five years since his royal coronation, he had gained a full ten stone.

Certainly any match could be made with the right contract and agreeable parties, but a strong willed or manipulative daughter could undoubtedly thwart the most prudent of marriage contracts. The Cardinal felt Edward’s obesity didn’t make his quest to secure a mate any easier. His fatness became well known in chatter among the nobility at home and abroad, and Edward’s Privy Council didn’t appreciate their sovereign being on the receiving end of mockery

Edward was well aware of his challenges, but fears of his temper and desire for his good will hushed most talk of his enormous meals, the reinforcements made to his bed and frequent visits from the royal tailor. He was, for the most part, a benevolent ruler who loved his people, but was willing to use his command to crush an adversary if needed.

Still, the young King had assets, his greatest being his intellect. He mastered many scholarly subjects at a very young age, and spoke several languages exceedingly well. And he well understood the complexities of governing state and trade interests. By all accounts, he was a good king, save his precarious current political situation.


Part Two

“Father, please let us meet them before you make any contracts. What if they are horrible or deformed?” cried Isabelle. As the eldest of the two princesses, she would be the first of the two girls to marry and saw her future approaching quickly.

King Wilhelm had played the Princess’ hands from the time of their infancy. He used the high demand for their betrothal to his advantage, forging alliances with the most powerful monarchs in Europe. But he knew his time was running out, and they were of highest value to him right now, lest they become too old.

“Nonsense,” declared the King, as the family dined together during their summer stay at Frederiksborg Palace. “This is a matter of securing our realm. I will not be influenced by the tender hearts of two foolish girls.”

Christina sulked. She did not consider herself foolish and maintained a keen interest in the complex matters of state.

The Queen was adamantly against a match with the French royal family, as she didn’t wish either of her daughters into an incestuous marriage with her nephews. Moreover, a French alliance was already secure by her established relations there.

“Spain, Prussia or Russia, Father? Are these our suitors?” Isabelle asked aloud.

“What about England?” Christina interjected. She loved to hear any talk she could about good King Edward.

“The Rotund Regent?” Isabelle snickered.

Queen Madeleine joined in, “They say he has a bed that fills his whole chamber.”

“And there’s not a scale in the land that can measure his mass!” Isabelle giggled more. Christina felt her cheeks becoming warm.

“Enough!” shouted Wilhelm. “I’ll not have my family risk their necks speaking ill of our ally across the North Sea.”

“Oh, Father, everyone knows that the King of England is fat!” Isabelle protested.

“We have a good friendship with the English ambassador,” the Queen reminded the two Princesses. “Let Our Majesty’s future successes be your guide in your word and conduct.”

“I for one would very much like to meet the King of England,” Christina reasoned.

“I understand him to be a good and wise ruler,” she offered, then pausing.

“Of course, not nearly as good and wise as you, Your Majesty,” she flattered her father.

Christina was her father’s favourite. She was the more diplomatic and clever of the two princesses, and exhibited an appreciation for the intrigue of politics. She understood that knowledge and cunning were the true currency of power. She hoped that the man she married would be an able leader she could respect and admire.

Isabelle, on the other hand, had the gift of the arts to recommend her. Music and painting were her passions. She cared little for politics and the burden of power. She conceded to romantic notions of love, despite her father’s wish to the contrary.

A month passed before Christina overheard her father and his council speaking to the Spanish ambassador, working out the final details of her sister’s pending marriage to Prince Alfonse. It was certainly no surprise to anyone, as it was widely speculated for years that she would go to Spain.

Isabelle was now joyous with the idea of embarking on a new journey to womanhood. She committed to her duty to Spain as a member of the Danish royal family, and prepared for her voyage. Christina cried for days, knowing she would miss her sister. They may have had their differences, but they shared a unique experience as royalty, knowing the pressure of interminable scrutiny on appearances, interests and conduct.

“Please write all the time,” Christina cried on her shoulder, “I shall never be as happy as when I get your letters.”

Isabelle stroked her younger sister’s hair, “I will write, but you must too,” she reassured her.

“Now you have your pick of Prussia, Russia or England,” she giggled.

“The old man, the cold man or the fat man,” she joked about the respective monarchs.

Christina wished she could delay it all and just be a princess and not a queen, but her destiny awaited her. Still, her father held her close for a few more months, wishing to prolong the machinations of parlaying her marriageable status into alliance gold.

The younger Princess, without her dear sister to keep her company, threw herself into physical activities like dancing lessons and riding. She deepened her love of English poetry and literature and dreamt of visiting England to meet good King Edward. She also continued to take an interest in eavesdropping on her father’s meetings, absorbing every bit of sovereign intrigue.

During these months of waiting, the young Princess entertained several conversations with the English ambassador in Denmark, Sir Jon Norris, about King Edward. The more she learnt about his person, the more she grew to admire him. He told her of the King’s virtues as a kind and generous man as well as an erudite student of literature and the arts.

Christina would try to find ways to inquire about his true size, but the Ambassador eluded any discussion of the King’s rotundity. He feared upsetting her with descriptions of the way King Edward’s rolls of fat protruded in his silken shirts; or that his golden doublets were constantly reworked to manage his burgeoning middle; or how he filled his breeches with his hanging belly and ample thighs. These were not bodily details he could share with a fair and delicate maiden like Princess Christina. He merely alluded to King Edward’s commanding strength and great presence.

Weeks shy of her eighteenth birthday, King Wilhelm felt the pressure to finalize Christina’s marital fate. The German duchies were again embroiled in violent religious controversies and civil war. Christina’s future no longer appeared secure in Prussia. King Wilhelm was down to a choice between Russia and England for his youngest daughter’s hand.

Christina knew she preferred England. It was closer to home and she spoke English very well. But most importantly, she wanted so much to meet this grand King she had heard about for so many years. Talk of his great size and greater mind made her feel flutters inside of her corset like no other thing she had ever felt.

However, she knew that her father would never listen to her request if she discussed it from her heart, so she met him on the issue at his level. “Your Majesty, you know I submit fully to your will and opinion, and I do unreservedly want to be a worthy vessel for your Kingdom in the world. I’m just afraid that Russia, however desirable of a match for me the Tzar may be, doesn’t have the stability and sensible aspirations that England possesses.”

“Dear Christina,” he chuckled, “you’ve been listening in on my affairs again, haven’t you.”

“Yes, Father,” she sighed. “I truly want what’s best for you and our people. If it means marrying a stout English king,” she masked her true desires, “I am willing to make the sacrifice.”

He had already made the decision to send her to England to meet King Edward and have the contract finalized, but he was fond of her precocious nature and humored her fresh wisdom. “In your youth you have much courage and foresight. You may well be right. I will discuss preparations with Sir Jon.”

Christina was elated. She was finally going to meet her King. She wrote a letter to her sister in Spain:

Dearest Sister,

It has been days since I wrote, and for that I’m terribly sorry. But I have the most wonderful news. Father has agreed to send me to England, and I am now betrothed to the finest of young monarchs. I hope I can be the best kind of queen, wife and mother for him and his country. I depart in May. I shall travel though the Low Countries and then embark on a short sea passage to Dover at Calais. I will write to you upon my arrival.

Yours most lovingly,

Christina
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Old 06-16-2015, 01:58 AM   #2
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Part Three

King Edward paced. His bride was to arrive in a few short weeks. He was certain for years that the Tzar’s reputation for athletic prowess and chiseled good looks would win the battle for the young woman’s heart, but indeed England was the more logical choice. Still, surely she had heard the English King was a podgy brute, now too heavy to ride a horse into battle.

In an attempt to become fit for his potential bride, King Edward reduced his meals and took more exercise. Within a week he lost a full stone. But he worried he was still exceptionally fat and wasn’t going to be able to change his appearance enough to allow a beautiful young princess fall in love with him.

He expressed his concerns to the Cardinal.

“What if she finds me... disagreeable,” he spoke in a rare moment of self-doubt. However insecure Edward was on the inside, he always masked it to appear tough and worthy of his title.

The Cardinal was taken aback. He was used to Edward’s confidence and hadn’t seen this side of the King in years.

“She will be your wife,” he said matter-of-factly.

“It will be her duty to find you pleasing,” the Cardinal reasoned.

The King wasn’t convinced. He had been a handsome boy and managed a few dalliances with ladies of the court in his youth and early in his reign, but by age twenty had felt too ashamed of his rapidly expanding body to expose himself fully in the bedchamber.

Now as a duty to his county, he would be required to reveal himself completely to his beautiful young Queen, a refined lady who would certainly be repulsed by his blubbery frame. He winced at the thought of unbuttoning his tunic in her presence, watching her recoil in horror as she witnessed the consequence of abundant overindulgence.

Another fortnight passed as the English court readied for the arrival of Princess Christina. The celebration entailed pageantry of dance and song with a great feast to welcome her to her new land. Edward remained anxious, ate little and became increasingly agitated with his closest advisors. He was quick to anger and spent most of his time in solitude.

When Christina’s gilded carriage arrived at the Hampton Court gatehouse, she stepped out to marvel at the beauty of the enormous palace. She was used living among spectacular architectural beauty, but in this moment she was overwhelmed with emotion and found great joy in the immensity of the structure and its gardens.

Edward peered down from his private chamber above and saw her long golden curls glimmer in the sunlight underneath her velvet blue coif. As she looked up, he caught just a glimpse of her delicate face and his heart grew weak. He smoothed his hand over his broad belly and with a heavy sigh.

“Perhaps just a few less stone and she could find her way to love me,” he whispered to himself.

The King entered the great room where he was to receive Christina. He sat down on his throne and waved for the reception to begin. Christina made her way to the entrance, surrounded by her ladies, took a deep breath and whispered to them, “I hope he’s every bit the man they say he is.”

She walked slowly in, her gaze averted to the floor in deference to His Majesty. As she drew closer, she glanced upward only for a moment, witnessing his face and the way his large body forced open his legs in a wide, commanding and confident pose. She contained the biggest of smiles within herself, for in that instant, she had observed a very handsome young man.

Edward’s heart quickened, as she drew close. Reports had not been exaggerated. This princess was undoubtedly the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. Her flaxen hair silhouetted her alabaster, heart-shaped face, and her blue eyes sparkled in the afternoon sun that shone down on her like a halo. Her body moved like a graceful willow in the meadow, with a lovely bosom to balance her small corseted waist and the outward flare of the train flowing from her hips.

She stopped a few feet away from him and delicately bowed down, then raised her face and eyes to him. He was softly round, with the most agreeable features and plump jowl. His eyes were dark and deep, and twinkled in the light. His hair was black and curled but controlled by a short style. He smiled and spoke to her in his deep, rich voice, “Welcome, Princess Christina, I trust your journey from Denmark was comfortable and without incident?”

She smiled warmly, “Yes, Your Majesty.

”Her voice sounded to him like a lovely harp with a Norse cadence to it. “My thoughts of meeting you kept me safe and comfortable.”

The King smiled back at her, but was skeptical of her praise. Surely she was trained in the art of courtly flattery.

“So what do you think of our fair land thus far?” he quizzed her.

“I have studied your country’s language and literature for years now, Your Majesty, and my best imaginations never came close to its true beauty.” She looked into his eyes and then gazed approvingly at his full body with a smile as her eyes reverted back to the floor.

Edward shifted his weight in his chair, and then spoke to her in Danish, so very few in the room would understand them. “My greatest hope is for you to discover much happiness here with us.”

Her smile grew large across her face and she looked up at him with the greatest of admiration, unaware that he also spoke her country’s language. She returned the sentiment in her native tongue. “My greatest hope is to make you happiest of all.”


Part Four

The royal couple was not to meet again for another fortnight while the final marriage preparations took place. In the meantime Edward sent her a pearl adorned jewelry box and in it contained an opulent sapphire encrusted gold necklace and matching drop earrings with the following note:

Dearest Christina,

Please accept this token of my love for you. These jewels do not compare to the brilliance of your eyes, but you will most certainly wear them well. I know not what is in your heart, but my sources inform me that there is much in your mind and spirit to be admired.

Mine eyes certainly witnessed your fine beauty but I look forward to knowing your kind soul. I am deeply happy that you will be my wife, and I pray I will honour you fully for all of our time together in this world and the next.

E R


The princess found his gift to be exquisite and very generous, but she was more elated by his kind and affectionate words. She quickly wrote a note in response to the King:

My Lord,

I wish to express my abiding gratitude to you for the beautiful gifts you have bestowed upon on me. But more importantly, I am indebted to your benevolence and comforting words. I pray I can deserve your grace and honour.

I hear of your virtues and beseech God to help me give you all that a wife can give a husband, and all that a most loyal subject can give her King. I will never waver in that mine eyes desire you above all things.

Your Majesty's very obliged servant, without any reserve,

Christina


Edward was reassured by the lovely tone of her letter, but continued to fret that she could not love him any more than required by her duty. He ate very little and lost another stone while waiting to make her his bride. His tailor chided him, “Your Majesty, if you do not start eating again, I will have to make you an entirely new wedding garment, and there isn’t time.”

Christina was informed by one of her ladies that the King was fasting in preparation for his wedding night. She was not pleased with this news, but was hopeful that once they settled into their new lives, he would understand her appreciation for him and stop all foolish notions of reducing his considerable size. The night before their wedding, she dreamt of feeling his softness surrounding her body, keeping her warm and safe always.

As she walked down the aisle at The Chapel Royal, she had feelings of enormous humility and awe. It seemed that her years of living in royalty had never touched her as much as the opulence and grandeur of this day touched her soul. She peered down the long aisle through her veil and saw the full outline of her Prince.

She stopped and took her place within a foot of his body, turned and looked up through her veil to see his charming face looking back down into her eyes. His large hands took hers and the Archbishop of Canterbury led them through the ceremony.

Her words simmered in the King’s ears, “With my body I honour you, all that I am I give to you.”

And, as the vows poured out of her mouth, she thought of how his body would honour her with his soft magnificence. With celebratory bells pealing as far as the ears could hear, she noticed that his gate had a fine waddle as they departed the chapel as man and wife.

A grand celebration followed the wedding with a remarkable feast to venerate the wedding couple. By the time Edward and Christina had sat down next to each other at the table, they had exchanged many sweet smiles, but very few words. They each had heard much about the other before the wedding, yet still knew so little of each other’s hearts.

The large meal of pastries, fruits, pates, hens, quails, roast beef, tarts and pies came out to them in course after course. The couple shared in light conversation about their respective youths and she was charmed by the way he easily switched back and forth between speaking English and the Danish tongue. But Christina noticed that the King was still eating very little. She gently touched his arm, “Your Majesty, you’ve hardly eaten at all. I pray you are not ill,” she frowned.

“Nay, dear lady, I feel quite fit,” Edward reassured her with a warm smile, “I wish to not feel too full this evening.”

She glanced downward to his large middle resting on his lap and felt once again a warmness come over her. She knew not exactly what awaited her that evening, but she was certain it had something to do with these warm and fervent feelings she experienced whenever she admired his body.

At that moment, one of her ladies came to her, “Your Royal Highness, it is time.”

The King looked at his new wife, nodded to her and stood up. The guests followed suit and stood as Edward raised a toast to his new Queen.

“The finest Queen for the fairest of Kingdoms, To Her Majesty,” his face beamed as his voice boomed across the Great Hall.

The Queen blushed, bowed to her King, murmured “Your Majesty,” and was then led out of the hall by her ladies in preparation for her first evening alone with the King. She was bathed and perfumed with wildflowers. Her ladies brushed out her silken gold locks until they shone naturally in the moonlight and dressed her in a lacy white nightgown that reinforced her purity.
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Old 06-16-2015, 01:59 AM   #3
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Part Five

Edward, alone in his bedchamber, removed his layers of wedding attire down to his undergarments. He looked into the mirror at his soft chest and hanging belly and frowned. His recent abstention and calisthenics had caused him to shrink a little, but was still at the very least twenty-five stone. He grabbed the padding around his middle and sighed. He felt he would simply need more time to earn her admiration, “But for now I have my duty, and the fair lady has hers.”

Christina was led into Edward’s bed chamber by her ladies and he greeted her with a nod and a warm smile. She felt her hands tremble when she saw his belly pressing through his nightshirt. The King saw her shiver and yelled into another room, “Man, stoke the fire,” and then turned to her ladies, “Fetch this dear lady a shawl, she’s colder than the snow in here.”

But she wasn’t really cold, just nervous with anticipation. As her ladies left the room, the Archbishop entered to give the marital blessing. The King and Queen walked over to either side of the large bed with the Archbishop for prayer. Christina blushed when she saw the orange blossoms covering the bed to encourage passion and fertility. Her face further reddened when she saw the outline of Edward’s large navel peeking through his shirt as he leaned toward the bed frame.

The Archbishop finished his blessing and bid them a good night. They were finally alone and the young queen looked at the floor, not certain what to expect next. The King sensed her nervousness and took his new Queen’s hand and offered her to sit down at a beautifully carved oak chair with feminine styling he had commissioned especially for her. “My lady, do sit down and rest yourself,” he offered.

She followed his suggestion, seated herself and looked up into his eyes. “Your Majesty,” she started to say, “I’m afraid that even though I have had the finest education a young lady might have, I am utterly unaware what I am to do in this moment.” She felt ashamed. Her mother told her that love between a man and his wife was of a physical nature, but what form that took was still unbeknownst to her. She was quite innocent in the ways of conjugal love.

“Dearest Christina,” the King sighed, now speaking to her in Danish to help alleviate her discomfort. “We will learn of each other together in tenderness, not fear,” he reassured her and sat down in a chair a few feet from her, tugging at his nightwear to create room for his bulk to settle comfortably.

He shifted the topic to her studies and activities. For several minutes they shared a few amusing stories of riding, hunting and life at court. He was quite adept at telling stories, she noticed, feeling it was the mark of a clever man. She enjoyed his energetic laughter and felt the warmth in his eyes.

Christina then heard the grumble of his hungry stomach, and without thinking, she stood and walked over to a butler cabinet that had a large platter of breads, cheeses and fruits on it. She brought them to where the King sat and entreated him, “Your Majesty, you hardly ate anything at our wedding feast.” But he hesitated. She continued, grabbing a few grapes, “I myself am a bit hungry and cannot bear to eat alone.”

In the spirit of chivalry, he took a piece of bread and at last admitted, “I am trying to reduce a bit,” giving her an embarrassed smirk, biting off a large piece.

“Your Majesty, you needn’t,” Christina sighed, “you are quite pleasing as you are.” She allowed herself to reveal a small bit of her admiration for his fatness.

Edward’s smirk widened to an incredulous smile, “You’ve been taught well in the art of diplomacy.”

Her kind face became solemn, “My Lord, I admit that diplomacy is one of my merits, but I need not employ it here. Upon my word, I will never engage you in insincere flattery, and I have not the stomach to lie to you.”

The King was dumbfounded and knew not what to say. His new Queen, venturing into uncertain terrain, stood and walked over to him. She kneeled down in deference, raised her eyes to his and spoke, “Your Majesty, I know that which is a kiss, but I know not how it feels. Will you bestow the favor upon me?”

Edward, still stunned, stood and took his wife’s hands, raising her up to stand facing him. He was nearly a foot taller than her, as his soft belly brushed her bosom. He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, giving her a soft, light kiss.

Her eyes opened with a smile, “I waited a long time for such a gift,” she admitted. He leaned down and kissed her again, his lips to hers for a bit longer, and his hands on her upper arms, gently squeezing her into his plush body. She felt the heavens open up inside of her.

“Your Majesty,” she felt lightheaded, “I’m feeling quite warm, as if I may faint,” she admitted.

The King, worried, lifted her up in his large arms and laid her down on the bed. He sat down next to her. “My Lady, are not you well?”

“Rest your mind, my Lord, I am quite well,” she smiled at him, “I just felt such weakness in your arms, I lost myself for a moment.”

The King smiled back at her in relief. She blinked up at his handsome, concerned face. His sweet lips parted with his measured breathing and the rise and fall of his ample frontage. She sat up next to him, and looked him in the eyes, “I pray, Your Majesty, will you kiss me again?”

Edward leaned into her and kissed her sweetly and then strongly. She again felt his softness squeeze into her body and instinctively ran her hand down his rolling side, feeling the magnitude and texture of his fat.

They each eased into the other’s space, with Edward gently showing Christina the way toward marital bliss. His plump hands roamed her breasts and body while she enjoyed his loving attention to her lips.

“Dearest Christina,” he whispered, moving his hand over her lacy nightgown, down between her legs, “Shall I show you what comes next?” he offered, respecting her inexperience.

“Yes, my Lord,” she whispered back in adoring anticipation.

His hands moved down the lace covering her body and pushed the material up along her legs, revealing her creamy, nubile figure. He tenderly stroked his fingers between her legs, and surprised by the rush of adrenaline through her body, she exclaimed, “Oh my!”

The King smiled and continued to gently please her, watching her face redden and her breathing deepen. “Dear King,” she whispered, “do you not reveal yourself as well?” She smiled, hoping to see the full view of his delightful, quivering flesh.

Edward blushed. “My Love, I’m afraid my being is not lovely like yours,” he sighed.

“Nay, Handsome King, I can already see that it is,” she protested, running her fingers across the fullest portion of his wide abdomen, tracing underneath it’s droop as he lay beside her. She lifted his nightshirt, up to his hips. By flickering candlelight, she revealed his thick thighs and the bottom of his nude, soft belly draping between them.

Christina, having seen the nude male form in sculpture in Copenhagen, knew something of natural anatomy, but seeing his big body brought out some mischief in her. She boldly poked his ample belly, “Do you keep a treasure for me underneath this sweet covering?”

The King blushed more, his eyes widening. He ran his hand down her front, between her legs and whispered in her ear, “I don’t want to harm you with my heaviness,” and he lifted her and set her up on top of himself.

Christina enjoyed the wonderful feeling of Edward inside of her while she watched his large body move. She raised up his nightshirt further to reveal his smooth chest mounds and smiled lovingly into his eyes. He brought her into feelings of awe and delight, and they enjoyed their wedding night like neither of them had imagined.

They passed the next day in each other’s arms, making love and feasting on Edward’s favorite delicacies. Christina was most happily resigned to her duty of lying with her King, and took great joy in his ample body and tender love. The King, for his part, never strayed from his desire to be with his most beautiful and adoring Queen.

With Queen Christina at his side, King Edward went on to rule England for a peaceful and prosperous reign of 60 years. The Queen gave Edward three sons and four daughters, continuing a glorious legacy that began with the desire of two royals madly in love.


The End

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