Dreams of the Palatial House (ai written story)

[panelvanman 117]

So I have had fun playing with A.I. lately. I use the basic copilot that bing provides and while it does not write erotica per say, it will write about unconventional toilets. This was attempt two. I may try other prompts later. If you all enjoy this I will add more later.

 

Dreams of the Palatial House (Revisited)

In the velvet embrace of slumber, two women wandered the palatial house—a labyrinth of opulence and intrigue. Their footsteps echoed through marble corridors, and chandeliers dripped crystal tears. Each room held secrets, its walls adorned with tapestries that whispered forgotten tales.

The Gilded Couch (You):

You wore the same shapeless gown, your annoyance palpable. Your swollen bladder demanded attention, and the universe obliged with options.

The gilded couch beckoned—a throne fit for royalty or sacrilege. You hesitated, then perched upon its golden armrest. The fabric shimmered, absorbing your discomfort. Courtiers in distant eras gasped at your audacity, but the Sun King remained silent. Relief was swift.

The Second Woman (Jeans and T-Shirt):

She appeared, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Her urgency mirrored yours. The universe, it seemed, had a penchant for synchronicity.

She eyed the gilded couch, then shook her head. “Too fancy,” she muttered. Her gaze shifted to a nearby window seat—a cushioned alcove overlooking moonlit gardens. The glass panes framed constellations, and the night breeze whispered secrets.

Without hesitation, she unzipped her jeans, perched on the window seat, and sighed. The universe chuckled, for dreams allow nontraditional relief. The moon winked, as if sharing her secret.

The Whispers of Tapestries (Both Women):

As you lay on the gilded couch and she sat by the window, the tapestries stirred. Their threads wove stories of forbidden dalliances, of queens who danced barefoot in moonlight. They whispered, “You are dreamers, and dreams know no boundaries.”

The gilded couch absorbed your transgressions—the warmth of embarrassment, the thrill of audacity. Meanwhile, the window seat cradled her, its cushions forgiving. Perhaps the Sun King and the moon exchanged amused glances.

And so, side by side, you both rested on the edge of infinity. One regal, the other rebellious. Your bladders sated, your souls stirred. The palatial house held no judgments; it reveled in your choices.

Remember this, dear dreamers: In opulent chambers of slumber, whether gilded or casual, may your dreams be as ornate as the rooms that cradle them. 🌙✨