North meets South

by Dane du Toit

18 Feb 2018 954 readers Score 9.1 (33 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt


Night had arrived and the carriage I had tumbled around in for the past ten hours finally came to a jagged halt. It was our first day of travel back to the North from my home in the South. After a week of post-nuptial celebrations, it had been time for me to return with my husband Prince Colton to his Kingdom in the cold northern lands. We had set off just after breakfast and now arrived at the first camp spot just after sunset. I had watched as the terrain changed from sand and oases to one of lush undergrowth and trees that towered above our chosen path. There was a calmness in the breeze that blew through the tree tops, and the timid weather prompted me to wrap a shawl around my shoulders as the carriage door opened and a hand guided me down the steps. There were four more carriages in the convoy, one in front of mine, the others behind. The former transported the prince’s parents, while the latter held his two younger sisters, brother’s wives and nieces and nephews. I had been alone in mine and bored out of my mind the entire trip. Colton and his four brothers on the other hand road on their huge black, heavily maned horses (unlike my lithe palomino) alongside the carriages.

It had been hard to leave my home which held all the things I loved most. My books, my birds and horses, the chimes that hung from my room ceiling, that would sing sweetly in the occasional zephyr that played through the palace. I had greeted my parents and siblings with tears in my eyes and long embraces that I wished wouldn’t end. I had looked out of the back window of the carriage, as we rode out of the city, watched as adults and children emerged from their homes, shops, schools, gathering in the streets. They cried, smiled, waved me away with handkerchiefs of reds and purples and gold. I must have cried for an hour once the city gates had closed behind us.

A soldier led me through the camp to a tent guarded by another two soldiers. One of them pulled back the canvas to allow me inside. The first thing I noticed was the warmth, a low light filed the room, emitted from the multiple lanterns scattered around the interior of the tent. Prince Colton, or Colt (as he had asked me to call him) stood at a table covered in food and motioned for me to have a seat at it. He waited for me to sit down before he took his seat opposite me. Over the past week I had come to understand Colt a bit better, not by conversing with him but by merely observing. Being a military man he was extremely rigid and disciplined in his daily routines. He woke at the same time every morning, and excused himself from long, celebratory dinners to go to bed at the same time every evening. He was always bathed and dressed before I woke up, and undressed and bathed after me each night. He would always enter and leave a room before I did and never sat down until I had been seated.  He always penetrated me from behind, or in the missionary position, always slept on the right of the bed and on his left side so that he was facing me. We spoke very little. Our conversations revolved around our cities and never ourselves. Now I sat at the table with him, reading one of my novels as we ate, while two helpers filled our glasses with wine and cleared empty dishes.

“What’s it about?” he asked suddenly, nodding towards my book.

“A wish-granting Genie,” I replied.

“Do you believe in Genies?” he said, popping a grape into his mouth.

“I believe that one’s wildest wishes can come true, whether a Genie is involved, I cannot confirm or deny.”

“So, you’re a romantic then?”

“I suppose I am,” I said and smiled. His expression softened and he stared at me while drinking from his goblet.

“What about me? Am I a romantic.”

“No,” I said adamantly, “but I think you can be persuaded.”

He smiled shyly, an expression I’d never before seen on him. Two helpers entered the tent and cleared the table, filling our glasses one final time before they left.

“Come over here,” he said.

I put the book down on the table, stood up and walked over to him. He pushed his chair back slightly so that I could stand in front of him. I leaned back with my hands on the table, my legs crossed at the ankles. He pulled on the edge of the shawl I still had around my shoulders, until he had the whole thing in his hands. He tossed it onto the table behind me. I was still wearing the clothes I had left home in: a thin, knee-length tunic, undergarments and leather sandals that laced all the way up to my knees. He removed my belt and pulled at the strings around my neckline, loosening my tunic. It slipped off my shoulder and fell to the ground. I stood before him in my sheer undergarments, leather sandals, and silver and opal choker around my neck. He leaned forward slightly and hooked an index finger into each side of my undergarments and pulled them down until I could step out of them. It tossed it onto the shawl behind me. He lifted the bottom of his own tunic now to reveal his thick, veiny member, something I had still to get completely comfortable with. He pulled me forward so that I was sitting on his lap, his cock in the crevice of ass.

He looked at my nipples which were rock hard and he took the left one into his mouth, swirling his warm tongue around it.

“Is that better?” he asked pulling his mouth away.

“I’m not used to the cold,” I nodded. He did the same to the right side, while I moved my rear up and down the length of his cock. Colt then spat onto his fingers, reached behind me and covered my hole and his cock in saliva. The tip of his cock prodded at my opening and he slid in slowly. I leaned back and moaned while moving my hips in a circular motion, lifting myself onto the tips of my toes so that I could stroke the length of him with my tight sphincter muscles. After a few minutes, I decided to lift myself up and perched a foot on either side of his thighs, so that I could get better leverage as I rode him, wrapping my hands around his neck as I did so. His eyes were closed and I could sense he was in a deep state of pleasure. One of his hands moved from my buttock to my own cock and he grabbed it firmly, my hand moving in and out of it as I moved up and down on his cock. It was I who closed my eyes now as I felt myself begin to reach climax, and I blew my load into Colt’s hand, loud ecstatic moans escaping my mouth. Without missing a beat, he picked me up and carried me to the bed, my legs still wrapped around waist, his one arm around my lower back. He laid me down on my back and covered my body with his. He transferred my semen from his hand to his cock and re-penetrated me, using my own bodily fluid as lubricant. He moved deep inside me, grinding hard into me, hardly ever pulling out until came forcefully inside my gut. Once he had regained his breath he pulled out of me and collapsed next to me. We covered ourselves in the furs and fell asleep almost immediately, him on his left side, me on my right, my head resting on his outstretched arm for the first time.

******************

I opened my eyes to find the boy’s head still resting on my arm. The crystals in his choker shimmered in the dull early morning light. It was still a few hours before the sun would come up, yet my body seemed to always wake me at this hour. I blamed it on my training as a soldier, a physical reminder of the discipline ingrained in young men starting out in the military. Even my helpers were attuned to this and I could see, over the boy’s shoulder, a large barrel of steaming hot water had already been filled and placed in the tent for me to bathe.

I pulled my arm slightly and the boy moved, turning around and now resting almost his entire head in the palm of my hand. I could feel the soft skin of cheek, and the featheriness of his eye-lashes against my fingers. I lifted myself up on my elbow and carefully used my right hand to lift his head while I withdrew my left hand from under him. He didn’t wake up. I looked at the length of his body, which wasn’t very long at all. He was petite and skinny yet years of horse-riding and swimming had given his shoulders and hips and backside a well-toned roundness. In the last week, I had been mesmerised by the softness and smoothness of his light brown skin and the wavy curls in his hair. It’s true, we didn’t converse much, but I enjoyed watching him read, eat, laugh and whisper secrets into the ear of his handmaid. I put my nose to his shoulder now and inhaled deeply the scent of roses. “Amaan,” I whispered his name into his skin. The boy didn’t budge from his slumber.

I sat up on the edge of the bed and pulled a metal canister from underneath it, and placed the tip of my flaccid cock at its entrance to relieve myself. When I was done I walked over the barrel of hot water, removed what clothing I still had on and got into it, using a cloth and some soap to clean myself ahead of another long ride today. When I was done, I dressed and stepped outside to make sure everything was in order for the days travels. When I returned to the tent, Amaan had already bathed and dressed, this time in a thicker grey wool tunic and thigh high black leather boots, the choker still around his neck, his hair still damp from bathing. I sat down at the table to a breakfast of porridge and various fruits. Amaan joined me, taking his fill of the fruits and avoiding the porridge. We both drank from hot cups of tea.

“How did you sleep? Sometimes travelling can be tough, disturb one's sleeping patterns,” I said.

“I slept really well. That sensation of being warm in a cold place, I had never experienced before. It was comforting. In the South its always so hot, you try to wear the thinnest clothes possible, and even then, you can’t even escape the heat. How about you?”

“I slept very well too, your tiring me out beforehand helped,” I said grinning. A smile flashed across the young prince’s face and disappeared. I smiled too.

“Perhaps it was the long ride beforehand,” he replied smartly.

“Perhaps,” I said, taking a sip of the tea.

“Perhaps, I can even ride with you today,” he mentioned quietly.

“What about the carriage, was it not comfortable enough,”

“No, no, it wasn’t that. It’s a lovely carriage. I just get jealous when I see you and the rest of your men riding outside. You see so much more from the back of a horse than from inside a carriage.”

“Well, we don’t have any spare horses.”

“I can ride with you. You have the biggest horse I’ve ever seen, and I don’t take up much space,” He pleaded politely.

“Ok.” I said to the now beaming Southern prince.

We rode continuously for most of the morning, knowing that we would stop nearby a large creek for lunch. Amaan had convinced me to let him ride with me, not that I need much convincing, and the close proximity to his body had given me an appetite for it that I needed to satisfy. After breakfast, we had gone out to the horses, ready to get on our way, and I had helped him up into the saddle. I had mounted the horse behind him, so that the back of his thighs touched the front of mine and his backside fit snugly in my crotch, his back flush against my abdomen and chest. My cape was big and billowy enough to cover both of our legs. I held the reigns as he held the front of the saddle, and because of his small stature it was easy enough to see over his head in order to navigate the horse. What wasn’t easy was controlling my own passions. The smell of jasmine (as opposed to the scent of rose from the day before) in his hair and skin was intoxicating, and the persistent caressing of his ass against my hardening cock was infuriating. When we had finally stopped for lunch, I mentioned to my brothers that I would take Amaan to see a waterfall that I knew was nearby the creek we had stopped at. Amaan seemed happy at the idea of seeing more of the natural world that was so different from that of his home. The waterfall was a good two miles away from the rest stop, and the path wondered through lush grasslands, where the grass grew 4 feet tall, into a forest, near the end of which was the waterfall. In no time, we could hear the crashing of water ahead of us.

“It’s so loud, I’m surprised we couldn’t hear it earlier,” remarked Amaan.

“Well, it may be loud, but it’s nothing compared the one’s in the North.”

We Finally came to a halt at the edge of the creek, the waterfall crashing down splendidly in front of us.

“Do you like what you see?” I asked, feeling oddly chuffed that I was the one showing him things he had never seen before. He turned his upper body slightly and look up at me with tears welling up in his eyes. In that moment, my heart burst for the young prince, the quiet, introverted, submissive boy I had married. In that moment, I realised both his worldly naiveté and his emotional maturity. That he had been so patient with me from our first night together amazed me. Yes, we had had sex that night, and again every night since then, but I had never really shown him much affection or tenderness. I had bent him over or spread his legs and taken him multiple times, but I had never held him close to me, or even kissed him. Suddenly the pride I felt about myself shifted to him and the way he had dealt with our first fortnight of marriage. As he stared at me, about to cry, I seized his lips with mine. He closed his eyes as I kissed him for the first time and I felt his warm tears against my own cheek. Our tongues soon met and we tasted each other. I should’ve guessed that his tasted sweet, like everything else about him. My hands reached under his tunic and I caressed his bare upper thighs as we made out. Soon I reached for his hips and realised that he wasn’t wearing any undergarments today. The kiss broke and he faced forward, pushing his back into me, grinding up against me. I licked the back of his neck.

“This is what you want, isn’t it? I could feel it the whole morning, the hardness against my back,” he said leaning forward and turning his head to look at me. His auburn curls falling softly into his face.

“Is it what you want?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said lying forward, his head resting near the horse’s shoulder.

I lifted the back of his tunic to reveal his perfectly rounded, soft and smooth-skinned naked buttocks. I unbuckled the belt I was wearing and opened the front of my pants, freeing my throbbing cock from its enclosure. I lubricated myself as well as Amaan with my saliva before penetrating him slowly. I grasped his hips firmly and pulled him slowly onto my cock. He moaned softly. I repeated this action continuously and very slowly, so as to both feel the softness of his passage and the tightness of his whole, and to not frighten the horse that carried us while we made love on its back. After a long morning ride of having my cock caressed my Amaan’s back, it didn’t take long until I was spewing my cum inside him, careful not to jerk too much. I removed my cock from his wet hole watched my cum slowly leak out onto his perineum. I pulled him up and felt for his own prick beneath his tunic. It was wet and sticky.

“You came,” I said, pulling a handkerchief from my pocket and wiping his cock.

“I did,” he smiled.

I made to wipe his ass, but he stopped me.

“Don’t,” he said, “I want to feel it leak out of me and dry on my skin. A reminder that you gave me a part of yourself, and that I am yours.”

I held him close to me and kissed him deeply before heading back to the rest camp for lunch.

by Dane du Toit

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