Game Of Thrones. It’s been an honor working on one of the best shows in the history of television. Dragons reigning down hell fire on swarms of armies. Sword fights between men and the undead. Incredible story. Gorgeous women bearing it all almost every episode. The list goes on and on of fantastic things and sometimes with friends I find myself dragging for minutes on what I got to film for the day. The one special reason for me why I love this job so much more though was for my girlfriend and hopeful future wife. Daenerys Targaryen herself, Emilia Clarke.
“You’ve been together for what, four years now? Don’t worry, she’ll say yes. You’ve got this.” The director reassures me while I’m sweating bullets behind the camera fiddling with the ring in my pocket. We finished filming the current season yesterday but me and the director convinced her that we needed to reshoot something real quick.
I look down the hallway and smile as I see her approaching. I give the director the thumbs up out of her sight to shout “Queen approaching!” like everything is normal. “Hi honey.” Giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead to not screw with her makeup I take her hand and we walk into the throne room.
We enter the room and I smile as she seems puzzled but grins which ends with me getting hit on the shoulder playfully. “The hell was that for?” I chuckle grabbing her ass firmly as she lets out a yelp grabbing my arm. Before us is a table with all her food favorites. Strawberries with whipped cream, warm caramel and chocolate for dipping, and two glasses of champagne. “Good luck lad.” The director whispers in my ear on his way out and shuts the door.
I lead her to a seat and kiss her lips with a passion neither of us have tasted before. I’ve wasted enough time. Her eyes are beginning to tear up either thinking *this is so sweet* or *is what I’m thinking about to happen going to happen?*. “My love, you’ve made the past four years of this wild ride amazing. But I have to say, there’s just” Raising a finger “One more thing to make this truly life changing.” I get down on one knee and pull a ring out of my pocket presenting it to you. “Emilia Rose Clarke, will you marry me?” I ask, grinning from ear to ear.
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Hello there sexy stories and thank you for taking the time to read what I’ve brought up here. Since Game Of Thrones came back my fan heart belongs once again to Daenerys Targaryen herself, Emilia Clarke. I’ve been thinking of a roleplay that would have us potentially making love in the throne room. And there it was.
If you want to take a deep dive into our past and set up our dynamic I’m all for that. Not into the backstory and want to get right to it? Mount me right away than and tell me you need me inside you.
Turn ons for this prompt: Clothed sex, lingerie, stockings, heels, costume, romance, blowjob, fingering, deep throat, cunnilingus, face sitting, teasing, anal (if desired), light name calling, body worship, spanking, food play.
Turn offs for this play: If there’s a thought in your mind of “he probably won’t like this but I’ll ask.” You are probably correct haha. Go ahead and ask but go with your gut reaction.
I’m hoping for at least a paragraph or two in each response. A statement is no fun but getting dragged into a script isn’t really fun either. Grammatically and word play wise you don’t need to be a Shakespearean understudy. I’m not going to crucify you if than’s get mixed up, I’ll know what you mean. On the other side of things, if you don’t have auto correct on and just type away without reading what you sent that is a no no.
Thank you, THANK you for reading and I hope to hear from you soon.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/6shmfz/mf_bending_the_knee_for_emilia_clarke
For the past few weeks, I’ve really wanted to write a story about “me” and Daenerys. Generally my stories are about a generic woman “you”, and never gets too specific.
I’m thinking I’ll be writing one about Daenerys soon, and if it’s any good, I’ll let you know and post it on sexystories.
Most definitely. I’m not sure if/when it will ever get finished. A lot of my stuff gets trashed if it feels too cheesy or I can’t get the right feeling from it.