Tis was a story that happened ages ago, so I guess the proper introduction would be: ‘Once upon a time’ as Arthur readied to take his leave on his quest for the Holy Grail. Camelot was in it’s infancy, and Queen Guinevere could not rule by herself. Arthurs friend and mentor found from afar a man who would protect the new state: Lancelot. Injured from a joust Lancelot slept in his bed, apart the way from the queen. Her lust for him grew each day as he gained his strength back. She watched his sweat drip down his bare chest as he ran and trained. His hand movements and thrusting of his sword seemed almost erotic. There were days where, at the end of his workout, she was wetter than he. He had been training hard this morrow and sweat glistened off of his hard, tan body. His battle-hardened body bore the scars of the futile wars, but they were placed on his body in an almost artistic way, the imperfections of wounds scattered in a nonrandom way. He was bathing, the stream that neighboured the castle was cool, clean, and private. Guinevere watched him from high above. As if sensing her presence he gazed up, eyeing her spying on him. She didn’t dare move, but mentally searched her surroundings for servants or her shadow, Merlin, but she was alone. Lancelot went back to his cleansing and Guinevere slowly walked down the stone stairs of the castle and out the back door, sensing that she was not being followed or seen. She approached the edge of the water and could see Lancelot’s shield reflecting the sun’s rays back at her, as if a beckon for her adulterous lust. Her clothes were loose, she had undone them on her way down as she stood at the edge of the water, watching Lancelot, who was now very aware of her presence. He approached her, through the refraction of the water she could see his manliness. They didn’t say a word as Guinevere dropped her clothes next to his and entered the cool water. There eyes met, then there lips as her hands reached around his broad shoulders and slipped onto his firm, well trained buttocks. His hands were less obtrusive and found her hips as they moved into the deeper water. Their tongues wrestled and they started panting as she felt his member growing on her hip. She reached for it as he grabbed her butt, lifting her gently in the water. She grabbed him and he instantly became hard, it twitched excitedly with each stroke of her hand. She let go and reached down further, fondling his balls as her lips left his and kissed near the healing wound on his chest. His pecks were as large as her breasts and both heaved as their breathing got harder. His other hand found her bare butt cheek and he lifted her effortlessly, yet his arms rippled. The water glistened, making them even more defined. Her free hand wrapped around his neck and tugged on his shoulder-length hair for support. He lowered her gently onto his throbbing rod. Her hand left his balls and guided the shaft into her. It stuck at first, as the moving water continuously washed away her moistness. Both of them were sex starved, neither had seen their spouses in eight months and the sin was inevitable. She bounced on his cock, slowly at first, then more rapidly, the water around her making a rhythmic splash and ripped pounded the shore to the beat of their adultery. She felt a vibration forming inside of her and she let herself go, riding the warrior to an intense orgasm, her stomach contracting in sync with it. She moaned, removing her lips from his once again. His mouth buried into her neck, which tickled her, but she didn’t stop him. His left hand slipped and he nearly dropped her, if it had not been for the water, he would have. It moved to her breast, which floated weightlessly in the current. It was soft and smooth except for the small, erect nipple that protruded from the middle of the areola. She moaned again. This brought him over the edge. He let out his own moan as he felt his semen rush into her. They had done it, they were damned. They stayed in that position, in the water for a few moments, hugging and kissing each other before she put her feet on the rocky bottom and withdrew him from her. No eyes had been them, but Merlin knew. He listened as the walls of the castle told him so. This was the first of many encounters that they would have until Arthur’s return.