He slowly pulled out of Hugues' ass and lay next to him. They kissed tenderly, and then napped for half an hour. Hugues awoke when he felt his ass being pried apart with big hands. He looked over his shoulder in time to see Abdullah bury his face in the Duke's well-pleasured and jizz- filled ass. "Are you getting me ready for another fuck or are you trying to lick out your load?" Hugues whispered lustily. The big Arab didn't respond, only speared his tongue deeper and pressed Sir Hugues' ass cheeks farther apart. "I guess it doesn't make any difference," the Duke allowed. "Either way, I'm happy."
Chapter 3
He was both eaten and drilled. Sir Hugues loved the big Arab's love-making. If only life could be this simple and good all the time. But, in this era of turmoil, that would be difficult. His biggest concern was his legacy; specifically, he had no heirs, that kind of legacy. Oh, his brother was surely salivating at the prospect of inheriting the dukedom, and was officially the next in line. But, his brother was nefarious, untrustworthy, venal, and had more bastard children than the local bishop (which numbered 13 at last count). The Duke's brother was married and did have two legitimate children, just as grasping and venal as their father.
One way to keep his properties, goods, and title from his brother was to give all his worldly possessions to the Church. But, that idea made his stomach flop. Generally, the men he knew in the Church were just as worldly and disreputable as his brother. He liked neither alternative; trading one group of hedonists for another didn't suit him. He must give the problem more thought, and soon. He wasn't getting any younger.
"You must marry," Abdullah decided after Hugues had finally confessed what had been weighing on his mind for the last month. "It's your only option."
"But, Abdullah," complained Hugues, "that would be disloyal to you and dishonest to whomever I marry. And what of us?"
"I'm not worried about us, my prince. We are as permanent as the pyramids of Egypt." He paused a moment to reflect. "We can keep our secret from your wife. I have been observing your people," the Arab smiled. "Your men and women lead separate lives. This is especially true with the aristocracy. There are exceptions, of course, but the men take their sexual favors when they wish with their wives. Mostly, they sow their seed with some nubile wench that attracts their eye. The rest of the time, they're drinking themselves into a stupor and skirmishing or playing at war with their neighbors and friends. Their lives are as empty as their marriage vows."
"You judge us too harshly," the Duke responded. "But," he sighed, "your observations aren't far wrong." Hugues thought for a moment. "Are you sure this won't be a problem for us?"
"I'm sure," Abdullah smiled. "Our love transcends worldly matters. Do you doubt that you can still love me after you wed?"
"You are my soul-mate. I can't imagine my life without you. But, you know I must spend nights with my new wife in order to sire children. Distasteful as that may be in the abstract, it is physically an act of love."
"Nonsense," the big Arab laughed. "It's an act of sex. Surely, you had relations with women before you went on Crusade. You're a young man with needs. Pierre couldn't have provided all outlets for you. Or did he?"
Hugues laughed, too. "No, I've dallied with damsels."
"And you completed the act?"
"Yes, of course."
"So, how would this be different? You still went back to Pierre for what you truly enjoyed."
"Yes. Yes, I did," Hugues agreed. "And it would be different because I didn't love Pierre, but I do love you."
The big Arab smiled. He never tired of hearing that. "Your court physician can tell you when your new bride is most fertile, so you won't have to spend that many nights in your marriage bed," Abdullah said, getting back to the subject. "Set your chamberlain about finding a suitable match for you, Hugues. The sooner we accomplish your legacy, the sooner we can spend more time with each other."
"You would do this for me?"
"Of course," the black man answered. "I left my own land to be with you. I couldn't love you more if I had to. You taking a wife will not change that."
"You were coerced to leave your lands by the pursuing Crusaders," Hughes pointed out.
"But, I went to your lands of my own will. I could have stayed in Egypt. The Crusaders only provided the impetus."
"I shall rely on your good judgment to help me find the right maiden to marry," Hugues cautioned. "But, you shall still be the man in my life, truly, the only love in my life."
And so they set about finding a suitable match for the Duke of Toulouse. The local women of marriageable age were already married or of an inferior family or ancestry. Those wouldn't do. The Chamberlain cast his marriage net wider, finally landing upon Constantia of Savoy. She was the youngest daughter of Amadeus, Duke of Aosta (recently created so by the Holy Roman Emperor). Hugues would make a political match with the rising noble family of Piedmont and curry the favor of the Emperor (who was neither holy nor Roman). A match of two ducal families would be celebrated all over Europe. Hopefully, she wasn't ugly or deformed. The Chamberlain assured the Duke that she was neither and produced a small portrait of her, painted at the Duke's direction. She was an attractive girl, somewhat childlike in appearance.
"Just how old is this child?" Abdullah asked of the Chamberlain.
"She is 18, Sir, last spring."
"You say she's comely?" Hugues pressed.
"Yes, Your Grace. Fit for a Duke," the Chamberlain replied with a bow. "And a virgin, of course."
"Yes, of course," Hugues smiled. What healthy girl of 18 would not have already sampled the strapping young men of her realm already? "Petite?"
"Yes, Your Grace, petite, full of figure, but not too much so, with full hips and breasts for child- bearing," the Chamberlain expanded. "A good match, Sire."
"Yes, yes," the Duke responded impatiently. "What of the dowry?
"The Duke of Aosta offers 10,000 gold crowns and 1000 head of cattle. She would bring three of her own ladies-in-waiting with her."
"An added expense," the Duke muttered. "No offer of lands, I suppose. His duchy is too far from mine?"
"I could pursue other possible ladies in the courts of the Dukes of Normandy or Burgundy," the Chamberlain suggested. "Perchance in the King's Court?
"Their father's are not friends to Toulouse. They would soon be in my lands trying to annex me," Hugues bristled. "No, this match will do, the dowry is adequate. Draw up the marriage contract, Chamberlain, and let's be done with it."
"At once, Your Grace."
"When can she be here?"
"Within a month, Sire, but I'm not sure how quickly the Duke of Aosta can send the dowry."
"Get the signatures on the contract. We'll worry about the actual wedding as soon as the dowry arrives. And be clear, Chamberlain," Hugues warned. "The gold crowns are the Duke's responsibility until the money is in my hands here. The cattle, the same way. If cattle are lost along the way, he shall make up for the loss. Am I clear? Security is his problem until the dowry AND the bride-to-be arrive here safely."
"Yes, my lord, by your command."
When the Chamberlain was out of the room, Abdullah burst out laughing. "My! Aren't you the negotiator! You had the Chamberlain quaking in his boots."
"That was intentional," the Duke responded with a secretive smile. "I wanted the message to be conveyed to the aging Duke of Aosta that I'm not to be trifled with. Such hardness will be conveyed to my young bride, I'm sure, so she won't be expecting the gallant prince of her dreams. My gallant prince is already here."
"She'd be a fool to think that a Duke wouldn't have hard, male manners born of his training and warring in foreign lands. She's lucky to have you, considering your capture and escape from the Infidels," he laughed.
"This Infidel has captured my heart," Hugues smiled and groped the Arab's firm ass. "But, she is young and could have all kinds of romantic notions of how a good husband should treat his wife," Sir Hugues protested vaguely, still clinging to his lover. "These damned troubadours put all kinds of silly notions into the empty heads of young women."
"I think your Chamberlain will disabuse her of that."
"I hope she speaks French or has had some schooling in languages. I don't speak Piedmont or Italian or any of their local dialects. If she's had some training, we could devolve to Latin, I suppose," Hugues sighed.
"I'm not much help there, I'm afraid. My Italian is limited. My German is better and so is my Greek. Even my English is passable. But, it wouldn't be my place to be interpreter anyway," Abdullah concluded with a kiss and an equal groping of the Duke's hard ass.
"Perhaps, not. I should have asked the Chamberlain that question." They parted for a moment while the Duke opened the heavy oak door to his grand hall and asked the sentry to find the Chamberlain and bring him back immediately for additional questions.
The Chamberlain was a short distance away, dictating the terms of the marriage contract to the Duke's clerk. "Yes, Your Grace?" the Chamberlain asked after bowing.
"Does this, uh, Constantia speak French?"
"Yes, Your Grace, but as a foreigner. She has an accent, but it should disappear quickly after she is surrounded here by native speakers," the Chamberlain explained.
"Has she had much education then? Can the girl read and write?"
"Those lessons befitting the daughter of a Duke, I'd say. I know she can read and write her own name, but I didn't press further," he admitted.
"I don't want a dunce for a wife," Hugues blustered. "Make sure she has the appropriate tutors when she arrives for subjects in which she is lacking. I don't expect her to have the education I do, but she should at least be conversant in history and literature. She must know something more than dresses and such." Again, the Duke paused, thinking. "Oh, and Chamberlain, see to it that a bath is constructed in her rooms. I don't want to share a bed with a malodorous cow."
"Yes, Your Grace," the Chamberlain smiled. The Duke's frequent bathing was still the talk of the castle. With a bow, the Chamberlain turned to leave.
"Chamberlain! One last question. How soon will you be leaving for Savoy?" Hugues asked.
"I shall leave tomorrow, if it pleases Your Grace."
"It does," the Duke smiled. "Good travels, Chamberlain. God go with you." Before the Chamberlain could leave, Hugues spoke up again. "And Chamberlain, take her some gift that she'd enjoy, some jewelry perhaps?" he suggested with a nod to Abdullah. "My friend here is very well versed in what engages the female mind in that way. Consult with him before you leave." Abdullah nodded serenely as if it were a most reasonable suggestion. The Chamberlain bowed again and left.
With the Chamberlain finally out of the room, Hugues smiled at Abdullah and remarked, "I hope that didn't put you on the spot, but I did see many trinkets that would dazzle any woman; and you and I have no need for such trifles. What would your good senses tell you would be a suitable gift for my fiancée?"
"Many necklaces and crowns are in my treasure chests. Let's go look and decide together."
So, they went to the Duke's treasury and opened the two most promising chests that Abdullah thought might contain such items. "Ah, this one," Abdullah smiled. He held up a heavily jeweled necklace that would cascade down to the breasts of a woman. The jewels were held in place by an intricate lacework of worked gold.
"What about his?" Hugues asked as he held up a small, jeweled crown with an astonishingly large emerald at the center.
The Arab looked at it a moment, then nodded. "I think that would be better used at her coronation as Duchess, don't you?" Hugues smiled and readily agreed. "There are other jewels here for her fingers and wrists that will be wedding gifts from you."
"I'll ask one of my cabinetmakers to create a special chest to hold all these items for her," the Duke said. "But, the chest and jewels will stay in the treasury, only to come out when she wishes to wear them. I don't want them disappearing into the hands of others by lying about in her chambers."
"A wise precaution, Your Grace," Abdullah bowed.
"And I have other jewelry from my family that I can give her upon the birth of our first child, a son, God willing," Hugues opined, "and more for other children's births and special occasions."
"An heir and a spare, Sir Hugues? A good practice, given the regrettable death rate of children."
"Yes, a sad thing, but reality."
"Hopefully, your new bride is a strong woman and will not perish in childbirth as so many do," Abdullah sighed. "My father had numerous wives for that very reason. My cousin, of whom I've spoken before, the one killed in battle, never knew his mother."
"Perish the thought!" the Duke exclaimed. "I don't wish to have to marry again!"
"You are correct, Sir Hugues," Abdullah said with another bow. "Let us not invite disaster by speaking of something which probably will never happen."
The following weeks raced by. The Duke and Abdullah began preparations for a grand wedding, ordering extra food, wine, and entertainment. His distrust and dislike of the Bishop caused him to request the good offices of the Archbishop to officiate at the wedding. As Hugues was a Duke, the Archbishop agreed. Additionally, he wanted the wedding blessed by the Pope. The Archbishop promised to send off a letter asking for the Pope's blessing on the marriage. As the bride and groom were not related closer than the 4th degree, there was no need to get the Pope's dispensation. But, it was still a politically smart move to add the Pope to those working on his behalf.
That should keep the Duke's brother in line and squelch any thoughts that brigand may have of poisoning or otherwise disposing of the Duke, he thought. His brother had been more than pleased to see the Duke gallop off to Outremer (the general name given to the Crusader states established after the First Crusade: the County of Edessa, the Principality of Antioch, the County of Tripoli and especially the Kingdom of Jerusalem) to crusade against the Infidel. The odds of the Duke coming back had not been very good. Hugues had heard that his brother had nearly moved into the castle when it was learned that the Duke had been captured or slain in a great battle. The welcoming banquet and Mass of Thanksgiving for the Duke's return found his brother in a most foul mood.
Fall was rapidly approaching. The harvests were in and people were eager to celebrate a good harvest season as well as the Duke's spectacular wedding. His bride-to-be had arrived. She was a comely lass, demur, soft-spoken, of modest intelligence and speech, and in awe of her husband-to- be. He towered over her by at least eight inches. But, he put her at ease and she soon warmed to him. However, Abdullah was another matter. He frightened her. He was swarthy, huge, menacing, and nearly always at the Duke's side. Hugues had explained his need for security and Abdullah's presence, but that didn't make young Constantia any less intimidated by the big Arab.
Two weeks later, the money and cattle arrived. The Duke of Aosta had the foresight to include 20 extra head of cattle in case some died along the way. Five did. Four others drowned at a river crossing. The extra eleven were the Duke of Aosta's gift to the bride and groom for their wedding dinner, as a letter from Amadeus, the Duke of Aosta said. The horses and wagons of the bride's entourage were also a gift. However, the escort and their horses were not. They were to return as soon as was convenient.
Abdullah thought it would be a generous gesture to include the bride's escorts in the wedding dinner, then sent on their way with the Duke's thanks. Hugues agreed. The men and their horses could use the rest.
Word was sent to the Archbishop that all was in readiness. The Duke and his bride-to-be were ready to be married on Friday, three weeks hence (having consulted the physician on her most fertile time). Other guests were told of the date and invited. The Dukes of Normandy and Burgundy accepted; the King did not as he was in Outremer fighting the Infidels. Quarters were prepared for the Dukes and their families. Their entourage would be camping in the surrounding fields as designated by Sir Hugues. Other luminaries were quartered in the local churches which always welcomed travelers. The Duke's retainers were invited, but had to make their own arrangements. As most of them lived closer than a day's ride, that was no burden. But, with several days of celebration planned, they stayed at local inns and churches, or traveled back and forth daily.
Three weeks passed quickly. Abdullah had Hugues practice for his wedding bed twice a day (to the joy of both of them), using the Saracen's eager ass. Because the Duke's penis was larger than most men and his bride-to-be was petite, Abdullah convinced Hugues that the new groom should perform cunnilingus on her to get her ready for his very large dick. That meant that Hugues had to eat out Abdullah's black ass frequently. They both loved the practice, especially the deep climax in Abdullah's hungry ass. That's not to say that Hugues always topped his Arab lover. Abdullah ravaged him daily with his monstrous dick buried deeply in the Duke's muscular ass. If anything, the wedding preparations made them even more needful of sex than before.
As the wedding day arrived, Sir Hugues was on the verge of a nervous collapse. He continuously questioned Abdullah about the chance that the Duke couldn't "perform" in his marriage bed. Women didn't turn him on, men did! What if he couldn't get it up? The big Arab assured him that his bride-to-be was just as nervous as he was.
"But she just has to lie there! I have to perform!" the Duke blustered.
"You're young. You'll have no problem," Abdullah assured him. "That's why we haven't allowed you to pump out a load since yesterday afternoon. You'll be so randy by tonight that you'll probably bust your nut before you get all the way inside her!" Hugues didn't laugh, but Abdullah did. "Stop worrying. That only makes things worse. A self-fulfilling prophecy is the last thing you need. Concentrate instead on the wedding banquet and your duties as a host. Those are more important than satisfying your husband duties on your first night. If you need inspiration, think of me pounding your beautiful ass with this."
Abdullah produced his formidable weapon. Hugues fell to his knees and sucked greedily on the tip. The big, black man encouraged the Duke to suck him off, cumming quickly. He'd had to slap Sir Hugues' hand away from stroking his own dick as he blew the giant phallus. He didn't want the Duke to cum also in his pants. He had to save that for his new bride.
"To save yourself from the anticipation, why not bed your new bride as soon as the ceremony is over?" Abdullah suggested. "There will be adequate time before the wedding dinner. And if that doesn't work, there is always tonight. You may find you'll want to visit her bed again tonight anyway, just to be sure. And I'll have a very special gift for you when you return to our bed."
"What is it?" the Duke smiled.
"After the ceremony, you'll find out."
This story is fiction. Your life isn't. ALWAYS play safe.
Constructive criticism to blackhunk33@yahoo.com