The Princess and the Pe(nis) (4)

mmmmmm….’scuse my stretching…so…you’re back for more, are you? I wonder what will happen to the princess and the ever-randy prince today, don’t you? OH. You want me to tell you more, not just stand here dawdling. Oh, well, if you insist?

You do, don’t you. Oh, I can see it in your eyes, though you are too polite to say. Very well, then, where were we…..hmmm. I seem to recall breasts and protuberant nipples and …yes, yes.

So after the rain passed…


You want me to go back and tell you all of that stuff? You do? Very well, then, though the telling may make me blush.

The prince was now kneading the princess’s breasts. She had never felt such things before, naturally enough, and the tease and taste of his mouth on hers, his tongue daring to and fro in her mouth was enough to set her on fire. But add in the delightful tension of his hands doing wondrous things to her still tender bosom?

She was suddenly burning with heat, throbbing with the need for something more.

“More,” she mumbled against his mouth.

“Vixen,” he replied against hers, for he loved a wanton woman the best. Tugging her around behind the horse, they fetched up against the far wall of the shed. His body pressed against hers, his hands mashed into her breasts, his mouth assaulted her, even as her knees trembled and weakened.

In moments they were on the floor, rolling in the hay, hands and mouths everywhere. Her pants were tugged down, his too, and they explored each other in the dark. They didn’t hear the rain beating down just over their heads, only the ragged sound of breathing as they touched bodies that went from wet and cold, to sweaty and hot.

When she found his turgid cock, she was shocked. Julie had not been kidding when she had said that a mans shaft grew hard, but was also soft as warm velvet. His flesh was smooth and hot, but the thick rod was hard and almost pulsing.

“Kiss it,” he whispered gruffly, and she bent her head and lay her lips upon it. She tasted a wet, salty syrup upon her lips, a curious flavor that was unfamiliar but oddly enticing.

His fingers slid between her thighs, and she shivered. She knew about the mansword and her own little kitten she should keep hidden. Yet, his fingers, those skillful digits, parted her and slid ever deeper, teasing and taunting her flesh, until her hips rose and pressed for more.

His cock replaced his fingers, and slid along the same path as they; yet at the entrance to her tunnel, he paused, feeling the tightness there. He wondered at it for a moment, before her hands grabbed at his head and her lips grazed his face, and her teeth nipped at his bottom lip. With a thrust he was inside of her, the wet, moist heat surrounding his shaft and making him groan.

“What a good girl,” he moaned, kissing her deeply, and mistaking her shocked gasp for pleasure, he began to move. Slowly, wishing to draw out this last fuck for the memory of it, he slid in and out of her in short little jabs, before withdrawing and plunging. His mouth attached to a nipple, sucking hard and biting as his cock buried itself between her thighs.

As for our princess, she was shocked to her core at the intimate intrusion, yet after the initial shockwave had passed, and his caresses had gentled and then excited her, she craved more. His teeth on her breast, his cock in her belly caused her to writhe, and rise and bump back up to receive him as deeply as possible.

It was as if someone had set her alight, like a candle, except she felt like she was glowing from the inside, out. When her climax came, she felt as swept away by him as she had by the water flowing down below the shed.

His eruption came soon after hers, the sound of his yell of release even louder than the drumming of the rain on the roof. Drained for the moment, they fell asleep in the hay, wrapped in each other.


He woke first, shifting to release tension in his left arm. He tried to not wake her, the sweet little lass, but in the faint light from the still-open doorway, he saw one nipple pucker and rise, an impudent survivor of their sex-war, out on patrol. His finger reached out and pressed it, yet the impudent thing rose even higher, as if taunting him. He flicked it, pinched it, then rolled it. Her nipples, so very large, tickled his fancy, and he continued to play with it, until his mouth longed for a taste, and he began to suckle.

She stirred beneath him as waves of sensation passed from her assaulted nipple to the sensitive bud between her folds. It wasn’t long before they were rolling again, bodies thrusting and moaning and leaking, making the horse shift away from them as they laughed, rolled, bit and tumbled about the small space. At long last, as she was on her belly, he fell atop her, taking her from behind, hands on her hips and thrusting deeply, filling her in this different way. Her body shook as she came undone, feeling her muscles clamping down even as her ass raised, begging him to come deeper into her.

He bit her shoulder, hard, making her cry out, shocked at the sudden pain. His hand slapped her ass, and she whimpered for more, even as his teeth stayed locked in the flesh of her shoulder. Fingering her breast, she grabbed his wrist, nails digging deeply into his forearm as she squeezed, as her head shook nooo, then yesss…until at last they released as one, and tumbled again into the abyss of sleep.

When he woke later, she was gone.

Sitting up, rubbing his eyes, he looked around for her. The ruby glow of the setting sun illuminated the small shack. His horse farted, filling the space with unpleasant scent. Quickly he scrambled to his feet, and still naked, led the beast outside, where he spurted onto the grass. Another moment and the nasty creature would have shit on him, the prince realized. Outside, the world glowed, deep green, cleaned by the drenching downpour. Of the girl, there was no sign.

Hobbling the horse, he went back inside to dress, and gathered his mounts tack so as to begin the return trip to the castle.


Slogging through the last of the rain wasn’t as unpleasant as it might have been. The princess was unattentive, actually, her thoughts turned inward, on him. He was a stranger, but he’d done wonderous things to her body. She felt the ache of bruises, back, front, sides. She would wear the brand of his teeth for some time, she knew.

She crossed the run-off, and continued on, only looking up when the first rays of light began to glimmer on the horizon. So the storm had blown out its fury, she mused, just as she had.

Within an hour, having covered a fair amount of ground, she heard the clatter of multiple horses ahead. Unsure whether to hide or stand her ground, it was too late, and proved unnecessary. It was Duncan, her father’s chief steward, and a small troop of guards.

“Majesty,” he inclined his head as he dismounted, “you seem a bit…wet.”

She pushed an unruly, dripping, tangle of hair off her forehead, and grimaced at the grinning man.

“Whatever gave you that idea, Duncan?”

He smiled at her, and removed his short cloak from his shoulders, wrapping it around her. He resisted the urge to pull the straw from her hair, as he had done when she was a child, caught jumping from the rafters of the great barn.  Though she looked more like an urchin, she was a princess after all.  He led her to a riderless horse.

“Majesty? Your mount, unless you would like to ride with me?”

“I’m not porcelain, you know! A bit of rain, and a dunking are not going to overset me, sir.” She punched him in the arm. He pretended to fall back a step, then slipped in the mud and landed with a squish, in the middle of a puddle.

Everyone laughed, even Duncan. Helping him to his feet,her hair flopped forward;  she saw the straw nibs in her hair, and sighed. She was going to look frightful when she was ‘escorted’ home to her family.

“How mad are they?” she said at last.

“Oh, I’d say they’ll hug you hard before they send you to your room until your wedding!”

And in fact that is what happened. After the joyful celebrations, after her mother hugged her hard enough to press all the bruises deeper into her flesh, after her father scolded her soundly, then kissed her hard, she was sent to her room to bathe.

“Ye look like you been beat,” said her nurse, as she moved around the room, preparing her charge for a long relaxing bath, complete with shampooing the hay from her tangled tresses. Indeed, she had bruises everywhere.

She tried to be casual, as she slipped into the bathwater, sighing at the heavenly feeling of warm water on dirty, sore flesh.

“Well, I was thrown from my stupid horse,” she said, by way of explanation, thankful that she’d undressed herself and bundled into a robe while nurse got the bath ready.

“Tomorrow you will journey to your Prince’s home, to undergo their traditional wedding test.”

The nurse spoke to her as she bobbled, remembering the feeling of his hands on her breasts, when the words broke into her musings.

“What? What test? No one spoke to me of a test? I must study…”

“Now missy, you just lay back, it ain’t that sort of test, not atall. Something about a featherbed and a pea and I’m not sure what-all else. Of course, there is no question that you’re a bonafide princess and all, but tradition must be satisfied!” With that, the nurse bundled up the awful, soiled boy-clothing, and left the princess to her bath, and pondering.

You didn’t forget about the pea, now, did you? Tsk. It’s an integral part of the tale, after all. Nonetheless, I’m all talked out for today. It is time for my grooming, speaking of baths. Do see yourself out. If you want the end of the tale, do return on the morrow. Fare thee well till then.

13 thoughts on “The Princess and the Pe(nis) (4)

  1. Seriously, you blush??!? Now I know it’s a fairy tale, but really nilla?

    Actually, I’m loving the tale. Thanks!


    BTW, you could through some math with peas in. I’m sure she’d do smashingly =)

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