It was the third day after leaving Cantleheath. MacKenna was surprised to see the Queen decided to wear a kilt, and more so that she had two waistcloth pinned to make an actual attire. MacKenna could not remember her wearing anything Thomas More than a shawl or cloak. The Queen had been mounted and waiting before the rest period of them were, too. She normally walked until midmorning. The sergeant knew the fagot had not lain with anyone but her maid, so it was not that she could be with baby. 'She does take care awful flushed in de face, and she be sweatin'like she 'd been in a sweat gild. Maybe she be under tha weather ?'Around midafternoon, MacKenna held back, waving Max and Anderson to ride on.

'' Ya'feelin'a'ight, majesty ? Ye doona be looking right wing, '' she said, keeping her vocalism low.

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

The sergeant gave the Queen the look she deserved.

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

MacKenna looked at the configuration in confusion, letting it appearance at she met the Queen 's pained gaze. MacKenna was even more than flurry. The expression looked less like pain and more like the look of an sexual climax. A good one at that. Something clicked in the sergeant 's head, and her eyes went wide.

The Queen nodded, letting her kilt drop back down. `` When Ingaaahh… and I were going through the written document, weeee… found blueprint for a sss…mmmm… special saddle … harness. That fits a 'woody'… Since… since I had not… nnn… needed to use the woody I bought… for Inga… I… thought it would… continue me… felicitous. '' She moaned loud enough for the men to depend 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 female monarch nodded. `` An'when we galloped ? '' The fagot shivered, nodding again. `` How by the cleric are ye'staying in the bicycle seat ? ``

The queer had let her reins go slack, trusting her Equus caballus to follow. `` Ssss.. Staying on the saddle is easy. I… ammmmm strapped on. '' MacKenna remembered the strap around the fag 's thigh. `` Getting down will be… problem… '' She lifted her kilt again. This time MacKenna noticed the leather of the saddle was stained from wetness, and the poove 's legs shook almost constantly.

'' How many fourth dimension have ye'… ye'… ``

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

MacKenna called as halt, waving the men to join them again. She could not tell if the Queen was blushing or in the heart of another tip. `` Boyo 's, 'er Majesty needs ya'assistance. majesty, it would probably help if ye'took off ye'kilt. ``

The Queen nodded, unpinning her shoulder and unbuckling her bang. She tried to rend the kilt out from around her and moaned, not trying to shroud her crest this time.

The men watched, confused. MacKenna helped overstretch the kilt away, taking the belt and cloak pivot. She got her first very look at the same time 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 pouf mounted to the saddle on the woody, but allowed enough slack for the Queen to bounce, consequently rutting herself with every whole tone of her sawhorse. MacKenna let out a low tin whistle. Phil Anderson looked at in interest.

Max laughed, dismounting. He walked over, carefully unbuckling the Queen 's thighs, then lifting her free.

The Queen screamed, her body shuttering and shaking, the evidence of her delight squirting from her now that the fire hydrant had been removed from her sex. Max laughed again, cradling the still twitching and moaning female monarch as he climbed back into his saddle.

MacKenna took the reins of the now riderless sawhorse, looking between the men and the vacant bicycle seat, biting her lip. She looked at Marian Anderson, who was suppressing a grin.

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

'' Max ! moderate up a bit, '' she called out, sliding out of her saddle and handing Carl David Anderson her reins.

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

'' Do ye'mind, ye'Majesty ? '' the sergeant called out.

The Queen raised her hand, waving before curling against Max.

MacKenna looked up at the faggot 's bicycle seat. The woody was not shaped like a rule member. At about a hired hand and one-half long, it grew from the rounded tip to about four fingers widely around the middle, tapering down to about two fingers wide at the base. The poof 's howler when Max lifted her was making more sense.

With another tone at a still grinning Maxwell Anderson, she put her foot in the stirrup and pulled herself up, settling behind the woody while she got her former foot set in. She reached under her kilt as she stood, positioning she soaked and slick rod at her porta. MacKenna was surprised to feel her own excitement. She lowered herself down onto the shaft, her middle end. She had to work herself down a small at a time, moaning as she felt it stretch her open even as it went deeper. She almost gave up trying to get over the extensive part, but once it was in, her body seemed to almost suck in the rest, sealing itself around the specialize home. By the clip she was fully seated, her ramification were shaking, every move pulled another moan from her, and she knew she was stopping point to her first crest. She had never felt anything like it, so full, so trapped.

She looked up at Philip Warren Anderson. His grin had turned darker, more like the feel he gave her at night before they crawled into the cover. 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 superfluous strap. She gave him a dirty spirit. It would only add an additional few seconds to remove, but that was few second gear more that she would be unable to sneak herself off of this damnable electric light. He chuckled and stepped around to the other English, repeating the summons and binding her to the bicycle seat.

Anderson leaned over, kissing her on the nerve and whispered, `` love you, Mac. '' He slapped the gymnastic horse lightly, getting it moving with a jerky.

The sudden movement caused an quick reaction, and MacKenna screamed her first tip of the afternoon. She felt the bulb try to load her again, pulling every time she rose off the rear, only to be rammed in again when she landed.

'Twenty day ,'she managed to remember through the haze of lecherousness and passion .'I do no'jazz how she kept quiet for the sunrise. Lord pray that the poof and I survive… ''