Sometimes Anne found it surreal that she was here. She half expected to wake up from some vivid dream or fantasy, back in England in her plush palace bed. But to her delight, she had traded in such a bed for a much harder and less comfortable bunk aboard the Ranger...but with a much more suitable bedmate included. Charles' expertise in how he put his tongue to work for more than just compliments and pretty words surprised and delighted Anne. He curled and flicked his tongue at just the right angles at just the right moments. She swore he could read her mind.

Of course he wasn't the only one who had put their mouth to work - Anne may have been a Queen, but she was not above getting on her knees for Charles to put her own tongue and hot, wet mouth to work getting him off. The louder she could get him to moan, and even if she could get him to cry out her name as he came, the more prestigious her victory. At least in her mind.

As Charles' finger explored her insides and his tongue continued its work licking and lapping at her folds, Anne could feel her clit throbbing. Pulsing in arousal. As he centered on it, focusing all his efforts upon it and letting his hot, wet tongue graze over it and his lips suckle and squeeze around it, Anne gasped aloud and her grip slightly tightened in his hair. Her body began to tremble and her breath shortened in her chest, making her breasts heave up and down with each breath. She felt her core beginning to tighten and squeeze.

When he pushed in that second finger, Anne's eyes widened and her back arched.