It was the tertiary day after leaving Cantleheath. MacKenna was surprised to see the nance decided to assume a kilt, and more so that she had two sashes pinned to earn an actual garb. MacKenna could not remember her wearing anything Thomas More than a shawl or cloak. The fagot had been mounted and waiting before the rest of them were, too. She normally walked until midmorning. The sergeant knew the Queen had not lain with anyone but her maiden, so it was not that she could be with nipper. 'She does look painful flushed in de face, and she be sweatin'like she 'd been in a sweat lodge. Maybe she be under tha conditions ?'Around midafternoon, MacKenna held back, waving Max and Anderson to ride on.

'' Ya'feelin'a'ight, Majesty ? Ye doona be looking right, '' she said, keeping her voice low.

The Queen smiled tightly, nodded too quickly. She squeaked, `` Mmmhmm. I… I am… mmph… I am fine. ``

The serjeant-at-law gave the queen mole rat the spirit she deserved.

The fag looked up at the men riding ahead, and sighed. The suspiration turned into a low moan that she cut off quickly. `` Fine. I… It is no use hiding it. I am gooooinngg… to postulate Mmmm Max to help mmme when we stop… '' The Queen shivered, her center closing. She raised her kilt up on one slope, exposing all the way up to her hip. There were a few extra shoulder strap buckled on top of the Queen 's saddle running underneath her, and another around her speed thigh.

MacKenna looked at the shape in confusion, letting it appearance at she met the Queen 's pained gaze. MacKenna was even more confused. The locution looked less like pain in the neck and Sir Thomas More like the expression of an climax. A good one at that. Something clicked in the police sergeant 's head word, and her eyes went wide.

The Queen nodded, letting her kilt drib back down. `` When Ingaaahh… and I were going through the papers, weeee… found excogitation for a sss…mmmm… exceptional saddleback … harness. That fits a 'woody'… Since… since I had not… nnn… needed to use the woody I bought… for Inga… I… thought it would… keep me… happy. '' She moaned flashy enough for the men to look back. MacKenna waved them back around, hoping she was not blushing as badly as she felt. `` So, ye'have bin ridin'all day, '' she said quietly, `` getting rutted by ye'saddle ? '' The Queen nodded. `` An'when we galloped ? '' The tabby shivered, nodding again. `` How by the Divines are ye'staying in the bicycle seat ? ``

The faggot had let her reins go slack, trusting her horse to follow. `` Ssss.. Staying on the saddle is gentle. I… ammmmm strapped on. '' MacKenna remembered the shoulder strap around the fairy 's thigh. `` Getting down will be… problem… '' She lifted her kilt again. This sentence MacKenna noticed the leather of the saddle was stained from wetness, and the Queen 's pegleg shook almost constantly.

'' How many meter have ye'… ye'… ``

'' I stopped remembering to matter at fifteen… around midmorning. ``

MacKenna called as halt, waving the men to join them again. She could not separate if the Queen was blushing or in the center of another crest. `` Boyo 's, 'er Majesty needs ya'aid. loftiness, it would probably assist if ye'took off ye'kilt. ``

The Queen nodded, unpinning her shoulders and unbuckling her belt ammunition. She tried to deplume the kilt out from around her and moaned, not trying to hide her crown this time.

The men watched, confused. MacKenna helped overstretch the kilt away, taking the knock and cloak pins. She got her first real look at the Saame sentence the men did.

The straps she had seen were, in fact, a harness that kept the now visible woody tight against the saddle, kept the Queen mounted to the saddle on the woody, but allowed enough mire for the Queen to ricochet, consequently rutting herself with every gradation of her horse. MacKenna let out a low whistle. Anderson looked at in interest.

Max laughed, dismounting. He walked over, carefully unbuckling the faggot 's second joint, then lifting her free.

The fag screamed, her torso shuttering and shaking, the evidence of her pleasure squirting from her now that the nag had been removed from her sex. Max laughed again, cradling the still twitching and moaning king as he climbed back into his saddle.

MacKenna took the reins of the now riderless knight, looking between the men and the vacant saddleback, biting her lip. She looked at Carl David Anderson, who was suppressing a grin.

He shrugged. `` I will serve, if you want. ``

'' Max ! Hold up a bit, '' she called out, sliding out of her bicycle seat and handing Maxwell Anderson her reins.

Max turned so the Queen could see what was happening. She laughed, which turned into a moan and another one shot of shakes.

'' Do ye'mind, ye'loftiness ? '' the serjeant-at-law called out.

The king raised her helping hand, waving before curling against Max.

MacKenna looked up at the Queen 's saddle. The woody was not shaped like a normal member. At about a hand and half long, it grew from the brush up tip to about four digit wide around the center, tapering down to about two fingers wide at the base. The queen 's belly laugh when Max lifted her was making more sense.

With another smell at a still grinning Anderson, she put her groundwork in the stirrup and pulled herself up, settling behind the woody while she got her early foot set in. She reached under her kilt as she stood, positioning she soaked and guileful rod at her hatchway. MacKenna was surprised to feel her own fervor. She lowered herself down onto the shaft, her eyes closing. She had to bring herself down a minuscule at a clock time, moaning as she felt it extend her give even as it went deeper. She almost gave up trying to get over the panoptic part, but once it was in, her body seemed to almost suck in the rest, sealing itself around the nail down groundwork. By the time she was fully seated, her stage were shaking, every trend pulled another moan from her, and she knew she was close to her first off crest. She had never felt anything like it, so full, so trapped.

She looked up at Philip Anderson. His smile had turned darker, more like the look he gave her at night before they crawled into the blankets. He met her eyes and nodded. She waved him over, lifting her kilt. He stepped over, buckling the straps around her thighs, adding an extra loop with the excess strap. She gave him a dirty feel. It would only add an supererogatory few seconds to remove, but that was few irregular more that she would be ineffective to lift herself off of this damnable incandescent lamp. He chuckled and stepped around to the other side of meat, repeating the unconscious process and binding her to the bicycle seat.

Anderson leaned over, kissing her on the brass and whispered, `` making love you, Mac. '' He slapped the buck lightly, getting it moving with a jerk.

The sudden movement caused an immediate response, and MacKenna screamed her low top of the afternoon. She felt the light bulb try to stretch her again, pulling every time she rose off the behind, only to be rammed in again when she landed.

'Twenty days ,'she managed to think through the haze of lust and heat .'I do no'know how she kept hush for the break of the day. cleric pray that the Queen and I survive… ''