Azula shivered as she padded lightly down the usually warm halls of the royal palace, she wore nothing but a light bathrobe, and the cool air wafted up, causing it to swirl around her shapely legs. The moon was high, casting pale light across the courtyard. Azula knew why she had been called; her father, Firelord Ozai had no doubt tired of his many courtesans, and wished for more exotic meat. Azula could not blame him; she had three men that she would call on, yet none gave her the sick thrill of these late night meetings with her father.
She knew what they did within his bedchambers was wrong, yet for all their size and skill; no other man could match Ozai in bed.
She stopped before a large wooden door, and without knocking, slipped through. The room beyond was almost uncomfortably warm, with dark red curtains, and a thick carpet on the floor. A mahogany wardrobe stood next to the massive bed, which lay before Azula, taking up more space than anything else in the room. The light silk sheets were torn away, and sitting upon the huge bed, legs folded beneath him, was Firelord Ozai. The man struck an imposing figure, dark hair, sharp features, and a black and gold dressing robe of smoothest silk.
The fire lord looked up, his dark eyes glittering, and in a voice like burning wax he spoke.
"Azula, my daughter, I am so pleased you came." Azula bowed her head, dark hair falling across her face.
"I came as soon as you called father, you… wish my company?"
The hesitation, the courtesy, did not come easily to Azula, but to one man and one man only she would show respect… her father.
Ozai nodded, a content smile playing across his lips. Swiftly he half rose, swinging his legs across the bed and standing beside it.
"I have sent Jillia away, there are none who will disturb us."
Azula silently smiled, so it was for reasons of lust Ozai had called upon her. Azula took a careful step forward, Ozai backing away, sitting down carefully on the foot of his huge bed, legs slightly apart.
With eyes downcast Azula knelt down before her father, letting her silken locks fall across famously smiling lips. She felt a hand upon her head, her fathers strong fingers working their way through Azula's lose hair, stroking his daughters head with all the loving compassion of a good father.
But Ozai was not a good father, he snarled as his daughter hesitated, "Do your duty to the Fire Nation girl!"
Azula licked her lips, staring into the darkness of Ozai's robe before her she could only just make out forms in the darkness. She knelt forward, eyes closed in the dark, fists curled at her sides. As her cheeks brushed against the folds in Ozai's robe an electric thrill passed through the young woman, akin to the rush of lightning at her fingers. At first there was an intense heat, the smells of roses and lavender, then his lips brushed something soft. It took a moment for Azula to recognize what she had touched as the Fire Lords satin-black hair. Azula slowly extended her tongue, feeling within the curling black hairs, their taste strong in her mouth. The Firelord sighed contentedly as the tip of something fleshy and warm touching Azula's cheek. The girl moved back, then towards the mans erect manhood, her beautiful lips closing over its head, the smooth skin silky within her mouth. She leaned in, pulling his foreskin back as she did so, the deliciously warm head of his penis now deep within her mouth.
Azula kept her head still, so it was not rough movement of her neck, or Ozais' thrusts which pleasured the man, but instead the deft and precise work of Azula's tongue as it slid through the motions which had been practiced a hundred times before. In all things the princess took the same approach: her inborn passion and white-hot emotion, coupled with mental walls of steel, keeping everything within her ordered and confined. It was this talent, her control over passion that made her such a perfect princess, and such a perfect lover.
Electric energy flowed across Azula, fire in her mouth and lighting in her eyes. A jerk, and her father pushed her off, his penis hard as stone. Azula rocked back on her haunches, looking up at the man looming above her.
He pointed at the bed, it was all she needed; Azula stood and walked beside the bed, with a brush of her hand she pushed the robe off her slim shoulders, letting the dark silk fall to the ground.
The form that was revealed there was a woman in body as well as name. Her shoulder slim, her breasts perfectly sized, far beyond the nubs they had been when she first discovered her sexuality; yet still small, just the right size for her graceful body. Her stomach was muscled and smooth, her hips curving, legs long and lean. Between her legs nestled a garden of smooth, curling, deep auburn hair, trimmed and pruned, but still full and deep.
She slid onto the bed, resting her head gently upon a pillow, her body straight, toes pointing toward the Firelord who stood watching at the foot of the bed. He walked to the side of the bed, looking down with hot eyes towards the girl in his bed. Ozai removed his robe more slowly than she had, taking his time. The Firelord was still a fit man, muscles corded in his arms and without a hint of the fat that comes of easy rule.
His manhood extended from a mane of dark hair, the same color and texture has his daughters. His penis was firm, the soft foreskin pushed aside by the extending head engorged with blood and ready to do its duty.
Ozai moved onto the bed, positioning himself above his daughter he looked down into her eyes. They locked vision, each saying something the other could not hear. It had been like this since her mother had gone, Ozai needed someone and she was truly her mother's daughter.
Ozai eased himself down, the tip of his penis brushing her hair, nestling through to nudge at her soft lips. Azula did not get as wet as other women, she liked to think it was because her fires burned so hot, but now she could feel it, the tunnels and caves within her, closed now, streaming with juices, ready to be pierced.
He eased himself in, pushing past her outer lips, finding her entrance and burrowing deep, pushing through and in, his manhood was immediately soaked and soon pressing up against the boundaries of her tight vagina. Azula's fingers tightened on the sheet for what she knew would come next, her breath measured.
Savagely Ozai pushed into her, burying himself up to the hilt in her. She gritted her teeth at the pain, his body was pressed against hers, the hair of their privates pressed together, mingling and one. And then he broke free, coming out, natural lubricant and trace ribbons of blood streaking him member.
Ozai pushed in again; up and down he had his way with his daughter, making love to her as a true king, with all the power of his rage and flame behind him.
Azula's bush was wet, sticking to her skin when he finished in her, filling her with his seed, warm and sticky within her. She would be given tea that would kill the baby within her, but now the Firelord would want her to clean him, and so she did dutifully licking and sucking the semen off him, before lying back on the Firelords bed. Now they would sleep, and in the morning he would send Azula on her way.