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The night was chill and the light of the piercingly white crescent in the sky loomed over the prince in his chambers. The breeze made his nipples hard and all the hair on his body stick up like sentinel trees. “It cannot be passed midnight yet,” the prince thought. He flung the sheets away and stood naked in front of a grand and narrow mirror, admiring himself, as he often did. “My father gave me this,” the boy consoled himself, “there is no shame in admiring it.” He put on his crimson robes and left the chambers.
He had no real reason to wander the corridors other than to find something to do. He had had trouble sleeping, but when he did sleep, his dreams were littered with frightening images of blood and burning towers. “I am safe in here.”
The walls of the keep were built from red, orange and black bricks from a variety of sand found from all reaches of the world. Red sands from the beaches in the south, orange sands from the deserts in the east men have failed to find again, and black sands the Grim Mountain spewed hundreds of years ago, before he and his father had even been alive. The prince trailed his fingers across the bricks, aimlessly, until he happened upon a household guard which he knew as Girth. Why they called him Girth? He had never known. So what better time to ask than in the middle of the night, when the moon still hung high.
“Girth,” the prince said, admiring his stern face. A pitch black stubble lined his jaw.
“My lord,” Girth said, with a smile.
A silver tooth peaked through his full and pink lips. He had gotten it defending the prince himself from an incoming spear. Luckily only the butt of the weapon smashed into his mouth. When the king asked what Girth wanted in return for saving his son, Girth replied simply, “A silver tooth, to serve as a reminder of my loyalty.” And the king had laughed joyously, “Silver? I will have you made a whole mouth of pure gold!” But Girth had declined. And although denying a king would, under most circumstances, have his head lopped off, the king understood the man’s humbleness. “If that is what you wish,” the prince’s father told him.
“You never told me,” the boy told the Captain of the Guards, “Why they call you Girth.”
“If it please m’lord, my birth name’s Garth.”
“And so why do they call you Girth, Garth?”
“It was your father whom had named me.”
“A jape, rus escort I presume?”
“Walk with me,” the prince demanded.
The halls of the keep were as quiet as ever, but for the sounds of their footsteps side-by-side.
“Tell me this jape.”
“The king has advised me not to share. I am sure my prince understands.”
“To not share?” The prince thought, “Who does he think he is?”
“I’m sure my father wouldn’t give a mind if you had told me,” he actually said.
The Captain looked around, to make sure none else would hear. “The friendship between I and your father goes further than the siege of the Capital,” Girth told him, “We have known each other for nearly two decades. Around the time we met, your mother was still alive and well beside him.”
The prince knew little about his mother, though it was said she was more beautiful than all the castles in the realm combined.
“You have her nose,” Girth said, smiling “And eyes. I’m sure, though, you are aware of their relationship.”
For hundreds of years, he men in his family had all married for naught but to produce heirs. Their true companions were their sons. When they reached of age, their fathers would plant their seed within them, simply out of lust and for nothing but.
“You hadn’t been born yet, and your father was red with lust for another man. And it was my duty to make ensuee my Lord’s satisfaction. I approached your father’s chambers on a chilly night as your mother was about to leave. She passed me without so much as a glance, and since then I knew he held some contempt for me. Truthfully,” Girth continued, “I hadn’t wanted to please your father like that if it meant my Lady would despise me. But I obeyed nonetheless, as I will do until my death.
“Your fathers chambers were warm and welcoming, much more than the corridors that night. He had poured me a cup of deep red and we had conversed about our friendship. It was not long before he was on top of me with his firm palm around my manhood. I remember, however regretful I had felt about your mother, I knew I had to. Soon enough, I had begun to enjoy it. Your father was and has always been a passionate man. My manhood, he said, was the thickest he’d ever held. And so from then on I was Girth.”
“Interesting story,” the prince said.
His own cock had started to pulse yenimahalle escort beneath his robes. The Captain could sense the tenseness. “You say you had begun to enjoy these nightly visits?”
“Indeed, m’Lord. Though I believed your father would be the only man to ever please me.”
“What about his son?” The prince disrobed slowly, but just enough to press his cock against the captain’s armour. He start to rub himself slowly, kissing Girth’s cheeks and breathing into his neck and breastplate. “I was on my way to see my father, would you like to come?” The prince asked the Captain.
“If it please m’Lord.” He said with a mischievous grin.
The guard in front of the king’s chambers allowed them to enter without hesitation. The king was sprawled out, naked and tangled between wet and messy sheets. He rested his hand upon his hairy abdomen. His firm and chiseled muscles were glistening with a midnight sweat all over his body. A soft and slow breath escaped his lips every few seconds, his chest rising and falling.
“My king,” the prince crawled into his bed and tucked him self in beneath his armpit. His father smelled like a true man should, rugged and masculine. His arm was thick and hard. He felt safe.
The Captain stayed at the door, watching ominously as the prince tried to wake the king. When the king finally did, he glued himself closer to his son. “My prince,” he said, and forced himself on top of him. His manhood was already erect and throbbing and veiny, the way he always liked it. A coarse and black hair lined his shaft and balls and the head glistened with sweat and dry semen from earlier. The king disrobed his son, ripping apart the red silk, and placed his cock on his sons, rubbing and thrusting himself slowly.
The prince enjoyed what came before penetration much more than the penetration itself. He loved having his own daddy on top of him, skin to skin, chest to chest, cock to cock. “Nothing,” the prince thought as the king enjoyed every part of him, “is better than a king bonding with his prince.”
The king’s penis was now engorged beyond what his son had ever seen. It was pulsing harder than most days, and it was much more purple, he noticed.
“Stop, let me enjoy it before you explode onto me,” the boy told the king. The king was at his most handsome and lustful in the night, and he wanted to enjoy it. He demanded his father to just stand on the bed and let his son touch him. He knew the king still wasn’t aware of Girth standing and watching, and so he chose to savour the moment before he jumped in.
The prince held his fathers cock in his fist and stroked it slowly. When he noticed it would pulse too much he would stop and let it squirm. “Not yet, there will be plenty if you wait,” he told him. The king was eager to bust his seed into him, but his son knew if he waited, there would be enough for Girth, too.
The boy brushed his fingers through the hair around the King’s manhood. He moved his way upwards to the chest and nipples, massaging them and licking them. They tasted like his father’s semen. He was one to cum long and far.
It was not long before Girth stepped out of the shadows, too eager to hold himself. His armour twinkled in the moonlight and clanked together when he took them off.
“Garth,” the king moaned. “Did you bring him here?” He asked the prince.
“His name is Girth, my king. I’m sure you know.” His son replied for him. He ushered him into the bed once he was stripped bare, but the Captain declined.
“It is too late to join, I believe, but if it please m’Lord I will watch.” He smiled and placed his palm on his manhood. It was indeed as thick as he thought, more so than his father’s. Though his father’s was bigger by most standards.
“Fine by me,” the king said. He pushed his son firmly on the bed and thrust himself with him.
“Oh daddy,” the prince moaned, “Cum inside me. I want your seed within me.”
The captain was stroking himself menacingly and twisting his nipples. Soon enough he approached the father and son and told them he was about to burst.
“Onto my chest,” the boy prince demanded him. And the Captain obeyed, spewing seven thick streams of his seed onto his chest. His father continued to fuck him,
“I love you son, my prince, till the end of days. I will fuck you whenever you need it. And whenever you deserve it.”
His father thrusted three last times before furiously ejaculating into his boy’s hole. The prince was rubbing the Captains cum all over his body when the king released himself, dripping wet and still hard. Cum was lined in his hair, both on his chest and below. He took a hold of his son’s cock, pulling back the skin, and put himself once more inside the prince, causing the boy to explode harder than the two other men onto his own chest.
He had never seen so much semen in his life, it was everywhere. On his hands, his body, his father’s lips and pubes, on Girth’s cockhead and even within himself. It smelled sweet and attractive. And he couldn’t be happier.
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