King David sat at his Harp, gently plucking at the strings. His nimble fingers finding their notes with precision. He had now been playing the harp for as many years as the greatest harpist in any of the nations around Israel. People would gather from the hills and valleys to hear their king play, his music sounding as if his hands were directed by God Himself.
He had now been reigning king for twenty years. He was David, the slayer of Goliath. King David the unifier, David the conqueror of Jerusalem, David the Raider King, David who had returned the Ark and commissioned the great Temple.
He had been struggling to find inspiration lately, his restlessness keeping him up late into the night. He was the King, and the days schedule would fit to his demand. He looked around his bedchambers. His wives were sleeping in various positions around the room, bedding having been added to multiple areas, and a large room in the palace dedicated to the king.
Deuteronomic law had forbidden him to multiply wives unto himself. The priests had known about his seven wives that were all now sleeping to the sound of the harp strings. The priests had heard rumors of his ten concubines as well, having turned an eye. What the priests were not aware of where his other three wives that he kept in neighboring Dimona by Negev. The priests did not know of his other twelve concubine either. The King could circumvent whatever law he wanted. He was God’s chosen one. The anointed King.
The moonlight shone through the large windows alighting his wives with its glowing beams. For their king, they had slept naked. He looked over them all as his fingers began to strike a new tune. Ahinoam, whose golden skin was bathing in God’s greatest light. Her breasts were the largest of all his wives, on her back they fell off to each side of her. Her nipples spreading across most of the surface. Her wide hips had already borne a son. Abigail, his stolen bride, would whisper about her former husband into his ear driving David wild with desire and jealousy. Maacah, the daughter of Talmay, king of Geshur. She was his royal wife. Her midnight skin was the envy of his other wives. Her nipples a shade lighter were dark, smaller but pointing towards David calling him to her more often than the others. Haggith, Abital, and Eglah were his special brides. They slept together on bedding, Haggith’s arms draped around Abital, a hand cupping her breasts. Eglah had fallen asleep with her head upon Haggith’s inner thigh.
He walked from the harp to Maacah, his dark princess. She was his bride, but he would worship her body as though she were Queen. He placed his hands on her shoulder stirring her from her sleep. Her curly hair stood tall on her head, it’s texture beyond any woman of Israel. He entered the bed, placing a hand on her cheek and kissing her. She leaned in, putting her hand around her King’s sword. It was now hard, and he was ready to apply his supplications to her eager body.
He placed his hands on her shoulders gently urging her to lay back. He slid down between her legs and entered her holy of holies, cleaning the temple with his tongue. His princess reached down, grasping at the King’s hair urging him to enter her. He crawled back up, placing his hard sword into her valley, pressing it urgently into her. She would conceive him a son tonight. He rocked his hips into her, as her long ebony legs wrapped themselves around his hips, holding him in.
With a final thrust, he spread his seed deep into her. He leaned in for a final kiss, standing now naked and sitting back at the harp. He plucked at the strings, having now a few more notes to add to his composition. Maacah was subdued by this drifting back to her sleep now glistening with her and David’s sweat.
Looking to the terrace, David rose again. He stood staring up at the moon and stars that God had placed just for him. The night shimmered and was as bright in these days as the day was. Looking down at his city, he inhaled deeply steadying himself. These were his people. As he continued to look at the homes of his subjects his eyes were drawn to a roof not far from the palace gates. There he saw his new muse.
On the roof, glowing in the moonlight was the soft olive-skinned beauty. The hair, a golden blonde. Eyes of blue that were not often seen in Israel in these days. And arm rose up, lifting with it a container of water, pouring it down upon the body. A hand rose, running it along the arms that were thin with muscles like cords of rope. Each muscle could be seen from here. The back was smooth, spine perfect, curving seductively from the bottom of the curly blonde hair to the perfect mounds that rested above the legs. The legs. They were as defined as the arms, ropes of muscles and calves like a lion leading to perfect little feet.
David looked, then he watched. He was captivated by the movements of this temptress. Moving to the side chamber where one of his Mighty Men of Valor had taken the night watch. Ishbaal, a strong man with arms thicker than the base of a cypress tree, his skin also midnight, made him a fearsome-looking man.
“Ishbaal, go retrieve for me from Bathsheba’s home whoever was bathing on the roof. The King wishes to speak with them.”
Ishbaal bowed and with haste took off through the courtyard and to the home. He returned sometime later dragging with him by the arm the figure David had seen.
“Bow before your King,” Ishbaal commanded with his deep Baritone voice ripping through the air deeper than the lowest note David could elicit from all the instruments he played. Ishbaal would on occasion sing for him, his voice harmonizing with the Harp as he plucked along.
Before him, this small figure bowed to its knees.
“My king,” he said with a soft voice.
David looked. Before him was a man who looked not much older than he was when he had first faced Goliath.
“Who are you?” He asked, walking around the prostrate figure examining him.
Ishbaal had been with the King for many years. He and the other two Mighty Men had grown accustomed to his particular… interests. David had conquered many women, and on occasion, he would desire to conquer more. Ishbaal turned his eyes to the courtyard, surveying for danger.
“I am Uriah of Hittite… may I ask what the king requests of me?”
“You know of my skills with the harp?”
“My king, everyone has heard the songs of David sung all over Israel. You are the greatest in the land! When I was a boy my mother had brought me to the court where you played before giving a speech!”
When he was a boy. David had been ruling for some time now, coming into power when he himself was a boy. So, this soft angel had grown watching him. This made David contemplate the cycle of life and his place in it. Three score and seven were promised only to the good, and he was now getting older, and he knew he was not so good.
David smiled, “and did this music please you?”
“Yes, my king!”
“Rise.”
Uriah stood and the king took his hand, “come, allow me to play for you.”
Uriah was brought to the king’s bedchambers. His wives were still deep in their sleep, and Uriah did his best to avert his eyes.
“The beauty of what the king’s palace holds. Please, enjoy as you would all of my art.”
Uriah relaxed, allowing himself to steal brief looks. The was the dark princess. She was coveted around the land.
David looked upon Uriah, reaching his hands up he started to pluck at his strings. Inspiration had finally struck as David improvised a new song.
David satisfied that he now had some new songs to work with released Uriah to go home, with instructions that he return to the palace tomorrow at the king’s demand.
The next evening as the sun was beginning to set Uriah returned to the palace. He was brought to the bedchamber where David was alone with Maacah.
“My subject, Uriah. Sit.”
He did as commanded.
David began to pick at the strings as Maacah walked to the door, her bare feet tapping lightly on the stone floor. Her robes were thin, and of a fine quality. They were purple in color, a rarity in this time reserved mainly for royalty.
Maacah walked back, standing between David and Uriah. She began to dance as was customary for her to do for the king. He respected her above all his wives, not commanding but requesting. She ran her hands up her robe and through her thick hair. As she danced and her body moved her robe became relaxed against her skin. She slipped the robe off her body and to her feet now naked in front of the men, moving her body in her seductive dance. The men were entranced.
David ceased playing and looked at Uriah, “do you play?”
“I have been instructed in a few notes, but I cannot dare play after you!”
“You will play for us. First, assist your king. Take my robes.”
Uriah walked to David reluctantly and reached a shaking hand out. These types of acts were not unknown but were forbidden still to commit. He was doing this at his king’s bequest. He took the robes from the king until he was now bare as Maacah.
“Play.”
Uriah sat at the harp and struck a simple tune.
David brought Maacah to the bed, laying her down so that he was facing the harp. He stood upon his knees, Maacah raising her hips and resting on her shoulders as her king penetrated her. David made eye contact with Uriah, watching and listening to his playing as he rocked back and forth into Maacah’s hot lips.
David paused, “no, this is not quite right.”
David stood and walked to the harp. He lifted Uriah up, who was afraid to speak or say anything. His day had taken him to a place that he could not have imagined. David stripped Uriah of his clothing, and walked around him, taking in his body with his eyes.
David sat back down at the harp and started to play the song that Uriah had inspired.
“Now you take my place.”
Maacah smiled and looked to Uriah. A princess laying with one of the common subjects. This intrigued her.
“But my king!” Uriah protested.
“Would you disobey your king?”
Uriah walked to the black princess, her skin glistening with sweat already from the sex that she had already started to have. She was dilated and wet, waiting to receive. Uriah climbed into the bed between her legs. He was not ready, looking to his king. The king looked deeply into Uriah’s eyes and he started to stiffen. He was now ready, pushing into the king’s wife.
David continued to play as Uriah went in and out of Maacah. Maacah was enjoying this, breathing deeply onto the top of Uriah’s head, her hands gripping his golden hair, his mouth wrapped around her dark breasts.
Uriah stood back, spraying his seed on the floor. David looked pleased. Uriah was anxious. The king had commanded such odd things of him. His stare stirred up strange feelings. David could see this anxiety and snapped his fingers. The door opened and Maacah put her robe back on, exiting as Haggith, Abital, and Eglah entered the bedchamber, closing the door behind them.
David was still sitting at the harp.
“Come, Uriah. Sit at my feet as I play.”
Uriah did as he was told and sat, leaving a small space between him and the king. The king moved his naked leg so that it was pressed firmly lengthwise across Uriah’s back establishing intimate contact.
David looked at his wives and started playing a tune that was familiar to them. The women looked to one another and began to disrobe. Haggith grabbed at Abital and began to kiss her. This excited Uriah but calmed his nerves. The king had some… peculiar interests. He had not heard of this as rumors concerning the great conquests of the king were carefully seeded to the public.