Versailles’ Red Fever: Louise and Montespan’s Devouring Lust

Versailles breathes. Mirrors multiply flushed skin. Dust from scaffolds clings to silk. Louise hurries down the Galerie des Glaces, heart hammering. Athénaïs snatches her wrist. Musc invades. ‘Pressée for the king’s cock, dove? He hates tight thighs.’ Louise blushes fire. Athénaïs’s gaze devours her lips, throat. ‘Open wide. Drink him deep. Guide him in. Cum loud.’ Lips brush ear. Heat pools low. Louise flees to chapel. Kneels. Prays. Fingers betray. Skirt hikes. Wet folds part. Clit throbs. ‘On l’accueille… on boit.’ Circles quicken. Breath stutters. Spasm rips. Shame floods. Yet glow lingers. Billet arrives. Blue wax. ‘Come. Bring scruples.’ Heart races all night.

Door clicks shut. Boudoir flames. Athénaïs pounces. Chin gripped. Brutal kiss. Corsage rips. Breasts spill. Teeth graze nipples. Hard peaks ache. ‘Virgin fruit for the king.’ Louise on satin. Jupons up. Cunt glistens. Athénaïs kneels. Tongue spears. Sucks. Flicks. Louise arches. Screams muffled. Legs clamp neck. Orgasm shatters. ‘Bless it!’ Now kneel. Athénaïs bares slick sex. ‘Lick fervent.’ Tongue darts. Bitter-sweet. Deeper. Guided. Marquise bucks. Cries peak. Valet peeks. Frozen. ‘Out, or castrated!’ Door slams. Louise hides face. ‘He saw!’ ‘Good. Whispers crown you queen of tongue.’ Days blur. Louise spies Athénaïs astride chevalier. Flesh slaps. ‘Fuck harder!’ Rage boils. Hallway clash. Slap cracks. They tumble. Against tapestry. Skirts bunch. Fingers plunge wet heat. ‘Filthy whore!’ ‘Holy slut!’ Thrusts furious. Louise cams. Claws. Bites. Peaks sobbing. Lips meet salt.

Ignition in the Mirrors

Bal masqué. King as Jupiter. Cock rigid. ‘My goddesses unite.’ Bed dragged. Court watches. Athénaïs shoves Louise down. Tongues duel. Fingers pinch tits. Cunt devoured amid gasps. King’s shaft gags Louise. Tears stream. Hips grind. Semen splatters face. Chaos erupts. Bodies tangle. Fucks everywhere. Abbé exposed. Marquis howls. They ignore. Mouths lock. Fingers fuck. Cunts grind. Dual climax under eyes. Dawn breaks. King snores. They stagger out. Sweat-slick. Seed-streaked. Chapel next. Athénaïs kneels. Fingers invade mid-prayer. ‘God watches.’ Louise whimpers. Peaks silent. Bed later. ‘I loved him.’ ‘His cock’s enough.’ Lips trail belly. Tongue reclaims. Louise thrashes. ‘No more!’ But arches. Squirms. Shatters again. Bodies entwine. Skin scorches. Versailles whispers. They laugh soft. Damned. Alive. Burned clean.