A thrill ran through her as she lay on the couch, pretending to be fast asleep while shamelessly eavesdropping on her younger sister; Edna and her friend Keturah.
Keturah was a palace maid and the previous evening while she arranged Queen Abigail’s closet, the King had walked in to visit his Queen. At first it was just their voices, a sensual potpourri of conversations and giggles, then there were moans and the sound of clothes being ripped and tossed aside in their hurry to feast on each other. After a few minutes, the moans and groans began to increase in crescendo, followed by the smack smack sound of flesh hitting against flesh as she crouched in the closet, frozen, the pile of clothes she was folding momentarily forgotten at her feet.
The sex lasted for what seemed like an eternity and even after the moans had ended, Keturah remained in the closet, hurriedly folding the previously forgotten clothes. When she finally crept out, the Queen was fast asleep, a contented smile lighting up her face.
‘I wish to marry a man like the King,’ Keturah gushed with excitement.
‘Why?’ Edna asked.
She chuckled. ‘You won’t understand. It was so intense that it almost felt like I was there. If I have a man who can give me sex as good as what I witnessed, it doesn’t matter if we are poor. We will manage.’
‘You are crazy!’
As their banter continued, Bathsheba found herself drifting off to her own world of bland, unexciting sex. Her husband Uriah had left for war earlier that day after a two week leave. Their last night together was like every other night in their eleven month old marriage. The sex had lasted for the same exact two minutes as always and after that, he rolled over and began snoring his head off.
She had shuddered with revulsion as she eyed the sleeping man beside her. The bed trembled lightly under the force of his snores and she felt irritated. His snoring was not the only irritating thing about him, he was just plain revolting, this man she had married. Thinking back to that day, eleven months ago when she agreed to be his wife, she couldn’t imagine what had possessed her to do so.
He was tall and well built, he would have been good looking but a fat, tomato shaped nose prevented him from that. He was just 32 but was already as bald as an egg. He was a shy insipid man that spoke with an irritating lisp, but she had married him, overlooking all the physical flaws hoping that perhaps, he had other attributes that would make up for them.
She was disappointed!
The sex was awful. He could only last for two minutes, nothing more.
The longer she listened to his snoring, the more repulsed she was. His only redeeming quality was his kind heart but then, a kind heart doth not orgasms give.
She turned her thoughts away from her husband onto her fantasies of King David and his mind blowing sex. For the next couple of days, all she could think of was him; the fantasies grew, enveloping her totally. She knew she just had to experience it for herself but then, how was she to make it happen? He was the King! One didn’t just walk up to him and ask for such!
She was still stuck, spinning an endless web of sexual encounters with the King when Keturah visited again. By contrived questioning, she was able to find out that he had not yet left for war. Keturah had added without further prodding that he spent his evenings, restlessly prowling upon his roof, waiting for news from the war. Bathsheba’s eyes lit up as she fixed upon that piece of information. Her aged aunt Miriam lived quite close to the palace and at once, she knew just what to do.
That evening, as she plotted and planned, her period came out. Usually, every month when her period came out, it was a source of great joy, she couldn’t imagine herself carrying Uriah’s baby. But this time, she was sad. She didn’t need it now, not when she had her sights on her goal after weeks of scheming. Not one to be deterred by minor inconveniences, the very next day, she headed to her Aunt Miriam’s house.
Aunt Miriam, old and slowly sliding into senile-town was pleased that she came around. All her children had flown the coop so she lived with her much older husband who was already a resident of senile-town and two servants. As soon as she had settled down, she put her plans in motion.
Aunt Miriam’s house was a few feet away from the palace. It was a duplex but it boasted a rooftop sit out where Aunt Miriam and her husband spent their evenings, reminiscing on better days or entertaining visitors. She began to spend the evenings with them, chatting them up while keeping an eye out for the King.
Every evening by 6pm, he appeared on his roof, accompanied by two guards. It was as regular as clock work. From her position on the roof, she could vaguely make out his handsome profile, his strong muscled thighs as he paced impatiently. Two days after her period ended, she knew it was finally time.
That evening, she advised aunt Miriam and her husband to take a stroll instead and while they were gone, she made her move. Some lesser woman might have decided to flash the most alluring part of their body but she was Bathsheba. She was going to use the full body allure. It could be a hit or miss. Taking her bath on the rooftop was a calculated risk, someone other than the King might be watching. And then, it would seem tacky and careless to do so. Instead, she took her bath in the open courtyard. Even if he didn’t notice her that day, she would keep trying until he did.
The first day had been uneventful. The King had prowled in his usual way, fists clenching and unclenching by his side and a deeply etched scowl on his face. The second and third days were no different and she decided that she would only try two more times, after that, she would have to either give up or resort to other means.
King David had just finished eating when he came out for a breath of fresh air. One of his wives had tried to lure him into ‘the other room’ but he had only been vaguely interested, instead, he had a strong inclination to spend the evening as he usually did, out on his roof. Perhaps, he could go in to her later on.
From the rooftop, he had a bird’s eye view of a good proportion of his kingdom and he felt his heart swell with gratitude to God. The kingdom looked tranquil and picturesque. Today is different, he thought, a broad smile dancing across his lips. He didn’t feel the urge to prowl and frown. He felt different, almost expectant. As he stood, a monarch surveying his domain, his eyes fell upon a woman bathing in a courtyard. At first, the sight struck him as odd, but as he looked, his body began to respond. Rays of the waning sun glinted off her caramel colored skin, her buttocks were well rounded and adequately proportioned, like the two halves of a pomegranate, her breasts were full and he could imagine burying his face in them. He swallowed hard, feeling his member harden. He just had to have her.
He turned to one of the guards. “You there,” he pointed, “Come.”
The guard stepped forward, stopping a feet away from him with head bowed. “Your Majesty.”
The King pointed to the woman who had now rounded up with her toilette and had an inappropriately small towel wrapped around her still wet body. “Who is she?”
The guard stretched his neck, squinting into the distance. He knew her, her younger sister-Edna was his childhood friend. “That’s Bathsheba.”
“Whose daughter is she?”
“Your Majesty, she’s the daughter of E-li’am and the wife of Uriah.” He flushed briefly as he hadn’t meant to mention that part.
“Is she now?” The King frowned at the rancid after taste of that unwanted piece of information. “Fetch her for me.”
Compliments of the season Dearie’s.
So I will be putting up the other parts of this story between now and tomorrow. Please do drop your comments, I’d very much appreciate that.