The warmth of the day fades, and with it, the constant hum of royal duty. Celestia and I find ourselves in our private chambers, the silence between us filled with a thousand years of shared history and unspoken desires. Tonight, the talk turned not to statecraft, but to the memory of a particularly… vigorous human visitor from last month. The way his cock strained against his trousers as he tried to maintain composure during his 'assessment' was utterly captivating. Celestia recalls the raw sound he made when she finally pushed him onto the silk sheets and rode him, her royal pussy milking his cum deep inside her. My own favorite part was afterwards, when she kissed me, sharing his taste, our tongues and his seed mixing together in a communion more intimate than any court ceremony. It makes me wonder… how many of our subjects suspect their serene rulers spend their nights being thoroughly used by mortal cocks, craving the animalistic grunts and the feeling of being absolutely filled? The throne grants us power, but the bedroom offers a far more primal form of release.