It was the third day after leaving Cantleheath. MacKenna was surprised to see the queen regnant decided to wear a kilt, and more so that she had two sashes pinned to make an existent apparel. MacKenna could not remember her wearing anything to a greater extent than a shawl or cloak. The Queen had been mounted and waiting before the residual of them were, too. She normally walked until midmorning. The sergeant knew the nance had not lain with anyone but her maid, so it was not that she could be with tyke. 'She does look nasty flushed in de font, and she be sweatin'like she 'd been in a sweat lodge. Maybe she be under tha weather condition ?'Around midafternoon, MacKenna held back, waving Max and Sherwood Anderson to ride on.

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

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

The sergeant gave the queen regnant the look she deserved.

The queen regnant looked up at the men riding ahead, and sighed. The sigh turned into a low groan that she cut off quickly. `` Fine. I… It is no use hiding it. I am gooooinngg… to want Mmmm Max to help oneself mmme when we stop… '' The Queen shivered, her optic end. She raised her kilt up on one English, exposing all the way up to her hip. There were a few extra strap buckled on top of the Queen 's burden running underneath her, and another around her amphetamine thigh.

MacKenna looked at the shape in confusion, letting it show at she met the Queen 's pained gaze. MacKenna was even More broken. The reflexion looked less like pain and more like the look of an climax. A good one at that. Something clicked in the sergeant 's head, and her eyes went wide.

The poof nodded, letting her kilt drop back down. `` When Ingaaahh… and I were going through the papers, weeee… found designs 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… keep open me… happy. '' She moaned gimcrack enough for the men to wait 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 poove nodded. `` An'when we galloped ? '' The queen mole rat shivered, nodding again. `` How by the churchman are ye'staying in the saddle ? ``

The Queen had let her reins go slack, trusting her cavalry to travel along. `` Ssss.. Staying on the saddle is wanton. I… ammmmm strapped on. '' MacKenna remembered the strap around the Queen '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 Queen 's legs shook almost constantly.

'' How many times have ye'… ye'… ``

'' I stopped remembering to look 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 summit. `` Boyo 's, 'er Majesty needs ya'assist. Majesty, it would probably help if ye'took off ye'kilt. ``

The queer nodded, unpinning her shoulders and unbuckling her smash. She tried to rip the kilt out from around her and moaned, not trying to veil her crest this time.

The men watched, confused. MacKenna helped get out the kilt away, taking the belted ammunition and cloak personal identification number. She got her first real 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 poof mounted to the saddleback on the woody, but allowed enough slump for the female monarch to bounce, consequently rutting herself with every footmark of her knight. MacKenna let out a low whistle. Anderson looked at in interestingness.

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

The Queen screamed, her soundbox shuttering and shaking, the evidence of her pleasure squirting from her now that the ballyhoo had been removed from her sex. Max laughed again, cradling the still twitching and moaning Queen as he climbed back into his bicycle seat.

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

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

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

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

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

The queer raised her deal, waving before curling against Max.

MacKenna looked up at the queen mole rat 's saddleback. The woody was not shaped like a pattern fellow member. At about a hand and half long, it grew from the rounded tip to about four fingers wide around the centre, tapering down to about two digit panoptic at the Base. The female monarch 's scream when Max lifted her was making more sense.

With another look at a still grinning Anderson, she put her foot in the stapes and pulled herself up, settling behind the woody while she got her other foot set in. She reached under her kilt as she stood, positioning she soaked and slick rod at her initiative. MacKenna was surprised to feel her own excitement. She lowered herself down onto the cock, her center closing. She had to knead herself down a minuscule at a fourth dimension, moaning as she felt it stretch her open even as it went deeper. She almost gave up trying to get over the widest share, but once it was in, her body seemed to almost suck in the relief, sealing itself around the narrow theme. By the time she was fully seated, her legs were shaking, every bm pulled another moan from her, and she knew she was fill up to her number one crest. She had never felt anything like it, so broad, so trapped.

She looked up at Carl David Anderson. His grin had turned darker, more like the facial expression he gave her at dark before they crawled into the blanket. He met her eyes and nodded. She waved him over, lifting her kilt. He stepped over, buckling the strap around her thigh, adding an duplicate loop topology with the excessiveness strap. She gave him a dirty look. It would only add an supererogatory few seconds to remove, but that was few sec more that she would be unable to rear herself off of this damnable bulb. He chuckled and stepped around to the other side, repeating the summons and binding her to the saddle.

Carl Anderson leaned over, kissing her on the face and whispered, `` lovemaking you, Mac. '' He slapped the sawhorse lightly, getting it moving with a jerk.

The sudden movement caused an immediate response, and MacKenna screamed her first of all crest of the afternoon. She felt the incandescent lamp try to adulterate her again, pulling every sentence she rose off the can, only to be rammed in again when she landed.

'Twenty years ,'she managed to think through the fog of lust and passion .'I do no'love how she kept quiet for the morning. Divines pray that the pansy and I survive… ''