Princely Passions: A Royal Romance

by Alexis Angel

  Pursing my lips and breathing faster now, I let my hand start working on my cock at a growing rhythm, my curled fingers sliding up and down the length of my cock. I let my unconscious mind dictate the movements of my hand, my conscious one busy with imagining how it’d feel to have Daphne on her knees right now, hiding under my desk as she ran her tongue up and down my shaft. I shiver as I see it, in my mind’s eye, her luscious lips going for the tip of my cock and wrapping themselves around it. God, she does know how to use that mouth of hers…!

  The first time I came with her I just wanted to do it in her mouth, to have my cock pulse against her tongue as I gushed my load into her. And that’s exactly how I did it, and she replied by taking every single drop of my seed, her hungry lips and tongue taking my cock by assault.

  Just thinking of that is almost enough to make me cum. But I’m not ready for that… at least not yet. I went to the trouble of locking myself inside my office, and I’ll enjoy every single second of this. No rushing.

  I slow down my stroking motion and in my mind’s eye Daphne is now standing in front of me, her smart eyes locked on mine. I smile to myself as I watch her pushing the straps of her dress down her shoulders, the fabric sliding down her body and revealing her curves to me. I feel my throat growing dry as I imagine the seductive lingerie she’d probably be wearing if all this were true, and my cock throbs against my fingers once more, threatening to explode. I slow down even more, wanting to prolong the moment, and exhale sharply as I throw my head back and sink further into the chair.

  Mentally undressing Daphne, I peel her black lace lingerie off her body, every inch of her smooth skin calling to me. I imagine her pink pussy lips between her thighs, the wetness there making my whole body burn.

  It’s almost funny, but I don’t even remember the last time I masturbated. It must've been more than a year ago. Seriously. It’s not like I’m bragging, but I always have an eager partner whenever I need my urges sated. But now, after what happened between Daphne and I, I don’t think that any woman in the world would be able to satisfy this hunger that has grown inside of me. Unless we’re talking about her, that is—only Daphne would be enough to satisfy me.

  “Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, gritting my teeth and picking up the pace once again. I let the rhythm grow and grow, the pressure inside of me rising to dangerous levels. My whole body tenses up as I remember how it felt to sheath my cock inside of her, her tight pussy wrapped around my shaft in the most sensual way, and my skin prickles at the thought.

  With most women nowadays, I need that edge to feel that the night has been worth it. In a world of constant stimuli, I’ve stopped being able to enjoy the little things. I mean, most days I don’t even get hard when a hottie is trying to seduce me. I need the promise of something more to get excited. A threesome (or a foursome), a kink, or something outrageous like sex with the possibility of being caught. But not with Daphne; with her it's just sex... and it's better than anything else I’ve been having these past years.

  If the simplicity of it left me in such a state, the memories engraved deep in my mind, I shudder to think what would happen if we went all out. I wonder how it would feel like to bend her over my desk, run my fingers over her ass cheeks and then spread them wide before I rest the tip of my cock against her asshole… She must be so tight and yet, at the same time, so eager…

  God, I don’t even remember when was the last time I felt this insane over a woman. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this. The attraction I feel for Daphne is so primal and fierce that it borders the religious: I just want everything about her. I want her pussy, her ass, her mouth… I want her eyes and her voice, her touch and her moans. I want to jump into an ocean of madness and lust, and I want to drown in it.

  “Daphne,” I find myself saying, her name echoing in the silent office. The room seems to become fraught with tension, my breathing grows ragged and my heart starts pumping harder, kicking and punching against my ribcage. Stroking myself faster now, I grit my teeth, as my hand becomes a blur, flying up and down the length of my shaft.

  Oh, if Daphne were here right now I’d fuck her until we both collapsed from exhaustion. I’d fuck her on top of the desk, I’d fuck her against the wall, I’d fuck her on the floor. I’d slide my cock between her cherry lips, and then I’d ravage her pussy until her moans turned into screams.

  My brain is boiling inside my skull right now, working at furious speed to produce a constant stream of lustful images, each one more enticing than the one before. I didn’t even know I had such a lively imagination. But when it concerns Daphne, I guess that I’m a really creative guy.

  I can picture her in every imaginable position, her naked body always summoning my body. Even fantasies I didn’t know I had seem to take shape now, and I find myself growing restless for an opportunity to tie her up to a bed and tease her until she’s begging me to fuck her hard. Yeah, perhaps I should start thinking of getting a pair of handcuffs… And maybe even a blindfold, now that I’m at it.

  And to think that just a few years ago Daphne was nothing more than a skinny teenager, her hair done in a ponytail. I still remember her face, innocence on her lips as she turned to leave for college, a lot of growing pains still ahead of her. Who knew that she’d turn into a woman like this? A woman capable of bringing any man down to his knees.

  I don’t even know if I want to laugh or cry when I think that, for the past five years, she has been in a relationship with someone who turned out to be gay. Could there be any more irony to life? How the hell does a goddess like Daphne end up with a gay man? Well, I guess I shouldn’t complain; after all, it was that little fact that ended up bringing us together.

  But screw all that; right now I’m not in the mood for deep contemplation. I can’t even think straight, to be honest with you.

  My hand is going up and down so fast that I feel as if my cock is about to explode, flames of devious pleasure making the climb up my spine and exploding inside my head. I’m grinding my teeth hard, slowly breathing through my nose as beads of sweat start pooling on my forehead. My muscles are tensing up, turning from flesh into concrete, and the thoughts running through my mind are so loud that it feels like I have a jazz ensemble playing inside my skull.

  Hissing loudly, my skin prickles as I feel the first spasm of my cock against my fingers. Another one follows shortly after and, before I can even prepare myself for it, a thick rope of cum jumps out from the tip of my cock and flies up into the air. It traces a high arch before finally landing on my desk, drops of semen tainting the legal briefings I was supposed to be reading.

  I keep on stroking my cock, though, my mind forbidding my hand from stopping, no matter what happens. I think that I’d keep on stroking myself even if my secretary kicked the door opened and stepped inside my office with a SWAT team.

  Long ropes of cum fall over the documents on my desk, cascading over the words there as if they were rain. My eyes are wide open and, although I’m watching all that, my mind is somewhere far away. I hear Daphne’s moans with every stroke of my hand, her sighs of pleasure inundating my brain and making me almost delirious. For a split second, it’s almost as if she’s really here with me, her pussy lips wrapped tight around my cock as I gush my load into her.

  I can hear her, I can see her; and I can feel her too. Riding my climax, my mind has embarked on some deep hallucination and, for just a few seconds, fantasy blends with reality.

  I groan as the last drops of cum simply drip down from the tip of my cock onto my hand, slowly sliding down over the curve of my knuckles. “Fuck,” I mutter again, breathing so hard you’d believe me if I told you I just came from the gym.

  Peeling my fingers off my cock, I reach for one of the briefings (one lucky enough not to fall victim to my orgasm) and crumple it into my hand. I use it to wipe the cum off my fingers and, crumpling it further, I throw it into the basket with a flick of my wrist.

  Pulling my pants up, I sit straight up in my chair a
nd look at the mess in front of me. Drops of cum glisten on the top of my desk, and more than a dozen documents are now soaking with my semen.

  I should be trying to salvage whatever I can but, instead, I just throw my head back and let a deep laugh tumble out from between my lips. I feel just like a teenager, one that decided to rub one out instead of doing his homework.

  And it feels great.

  Reaching for the dirty documents, I crumple them all into one big ball and throw it all into the basket. I can always get a copy; and if I can’t, just screw it.

  “Daphne,” I whisper to myself, smiling as I hear her name. “You’re driving me crazy…”

  42

  Daphne

  It was my idea to meet Dominic. Only so that we could straighten out the things between us, you know? Find out what’s really going on and where we stand after the amazing sex we had.

  In my head, I wanted to meet with him so that I could put a stop to all of this. And that because wanting to fuck my stepfather is wrong. Or so everyone would tell me if they found out about it.

  Thing is, now that I’m seeing him on the other side of the bar, sitting by himself and leaning over the counter with a glass of whisky in his hand, the word wrong simply vanishes from my mind. In its place, the words I want him are blossoming.

  I make my way across the bar, my heart thumping louder and louder with each step I take. By the time I’m close enough to see the white in his eyes, I know that inviting him for a drink wasn’t exactly a wise decision.

  “Hey, Daph,” he says, turning on his stool to face me. He goes up to his feet and closes the distance between us before I can do a thing; his hands go to my waist and he leans in, his mouth looking for mine. Then, perhaps remembering himself, he turns his face slightly and his lips land on my cheek.

  “Hey,” I whisper back at him, my knees trembling. Taking a deep breath, I stroll toward one of the stools and sit down, afraid that my legs might give up on me and collapse. My heart is beating furiously, and his tender kiss on my cheek has unleashed hell inside my mind.

  “A cosmo,” I ask the bartender right away, in the hopes that some alcohol will help ease my nervousness. Deep down, though, I know that no amount of alcohol will wash away what I’m feeling; because, really, it isn’t nervousness: it’s lust.

  “Another one,” Dominic says, waving his empty glass at the bartender and then pushing it softly across the counter. “So,” he starts, now turning to me with a gentle smile, “what did you want to talk about?”

  I look at him, my eyes on his, and I open my mouth before I realize that I can’t speak. All my words are trapped in my throat and the only thing in me that wants to speak is my body… You don’t need me to translate that for you, do you? Yeah, I know, I’m not one of those nice and innocent girls.

  “I… I wanted to meet because… because…” I stammer, trying to look for the right words, but I just give up and close my mouth.

  “Because you wanted to see me again?” Dominic says, still smiling. His eyes linger on mine for what seems like an eternity (but not more than a single heartbeat), and then he leans in toward me, as the whole world around us seems to be moving in slow motion. My eyelids droop by instinct, and I part my lips as his mouth reaches for mine.

  His kiss is soft and tender, his lips brushing against mine so gently that my heart skips a beat. “Yes, I wanted to see you,” I breathe out in a whisper as he pulls back from me, his kind smile unleashing something wild and primal inside of me.

  And I think he has read that on my face.

  “What do you say we continue this conversation upstairs?” he says, lowering his voice as he narrows his eyes, pointing with his thumb at the ceiling. Yeah, like I said before, maybe meeting him at a hotel bar wasn’t the wisest decision. Or, then again, maybe it was. I guess it really depends on how you look at it.

  “Upstairs,” I repeat after him, sliding down from my seat and straightening the front of my dress. He reaches for my hand and tangles his fingers on mine; forgetting all about the drinks we’ve just ordered, he guides me across the bar and toward the lobby.

  I feel my mouth growing dry as he books a room and gets the keys from the receptionist; to balance my dry mouth, a wet mess has developed between my thighs, the fabric of my drenched thong sticking to my skin.

  We head toward the elevator and, the moment the doors close on us, he grabs both my wrists and pins them against the wall, my arms over my head. “You want this, don’t you?” he whispers, leaning in and kissing my neck softly. “I want to hear you say it,” he continues, his mouth tracing curved lines over my skin.

  “I do,” I finally find the strength to say, wetting my lips with the tip of my mouth. I know that with these two words I’ve opened up a door I don’t know if I’ll be able to close again.

  Moving fast and grabbing both my wrists with just one hand, he takes the other one to the hemline of my dress and slides it underneath, his long fingers finding my pussy. Flattening the palm of his hand against my pussy, he presses hard on it and makes me gasp.

  “Seems like it,” he whispers against my ear, feeling my wetness with his fingers. At that exact moment, the elevator doors slide open and he lets go of me fast, standing by my side as if he had never moved in the first place.

  Straightening the front of my dress once more, I march out of the elevator after him and follow him toward our room, my heels clicking across the floor at an anxious tempo.

  “Come in,” he invites me after pushing the door open, standing aside like a true gentleman. Exchanging a glance with him, I step inside the room and take a deep breath, mentally readying myself for what’s about to happen. Still, I know it’s a futile thing to do; I know exactly what’s going to happen, and there’s nothing I can do to prepare myself for it.

  I hear the door closing behind me and, as if he has to prove my point, Dominic places both of his hands on my waist and pushes me until my back hits the wall, his body pressed tight against mine.

  “I want you so fucking much, Daph,” he breathes out, and I feel his cock hardening under his pants and brushing against the inside of my thigh. His words caress my eardrums and send a shiver up my spine; and, believe it or not, I become even wetter than before. It seems that with Dominic, dehydration is a constant. Maybe I should start keeping a bottle of water inside my purse.

  Tucking a lock of hair over my ear, Dominic then leans into me and rests his lips on mine; kissing me with the same eagerness a man would have when drinking from a well after a week in the desert. I kiss him back in kind, parting his lips with my tongue and then sliding it inside his mouth, both our tongues dancing around one another.

  One of his hands trail down the side of my body until his fingertips are brushing over the hemline of my dress; once more, he slides his hand under my dress and his fingers make the hike up to between my thighs. Cupping my pussy, he makes me gasp once more as he presses his hand against me, electricity pooling in my muscles as desires makes me lose all control.

  “Uhm, Dominic,” I moan, his name burning my tongue as I do it. He doesn’t reply with words; instead, he flicks my thong to the side and brushes his index finger up and down the length of my pussy lips, teasing me mercilessly.

  “I’m right here,” he whispers, softly pressing down on my clit and then going back down to my folds. He plays me as if I were an orchestra and he the conductor, each small movement of his fingers causing a massive reaction inside my body and mind. This is the mark of a man who knows what he’s doing; there’s no need for fireworks and a big show of expertise; no, that isn’t necessary when your body is pressed against the one of a real man.

  Done with his teasing motion, Dominic acts fast and parts my pussy lips, sliding his index finger all the way inside my pussy. He curls it upward, just like a hook, and only stops when his fingertips are pressed tight against my G-spot. I let out another moan, this one louder than before, my voice now heavy with anticipation and desire.

  Pressing his fingertip fir
mly against my G-spot, he then turns his hand slightly and lets his thumb fall over my clit. At the same time, he slides one more finger inside of me and starts flicking his wrist, fingering me in such a way that a string of moans erupt in my mouth and echo through the room.

  As he fingers me, he takes his free hand to my right breast and cups it tenderly, squeezing it slowly. Then, needing to feel his skin on mine, his fingers trail to my shoulder and he pushes the strap of my dress down my arm. He does the same on my other shoulder, the front of my dress drooping over my breasts, and then his hand goes between my shoulder blades and he unclasps my bra. Pulling on it, he takes it off my body and, for a short moment, I hold my breath as the air in the room laps at my hard nipples.

  Not wasting a second, he lets go of my bra and allows it to float down to the floor; he leans into me, wrapping his lips around my right nipple, and sucks it inside his mouth as he twirls his tongue around it. The warmness of his mouth on me and the frenzied movement of his fingers, working my insides and my clit at the same time, are almost enough to send me tumbling over the edge.

  Breathing again, I go back to moaning, throwing my head back and bumping it against the wall. I feel my inner walls slowly tightening around his fingers and, before I even know what’s happening, thunder and lightning explode inside my mind.

  I arch my back, only my head and ass touching the wall behind me, and allow my quivering moan to turn into a thunderous scream. My pussy lips cramp around Dom’s fingers and, knowing exactly what he has to do, he buries his fingers inside of me, and presses hard on my G-spot. The moment he does it I simply explode, flames of ecstasy dancing under my skin and making every single muscle in my body tense up like a string on a violin, one about to snap at any minute.

  The orgasm I’m feeling right now feels like someone has thrown a box full of fireworks on top of a bonfire, light and sound exploding inside my mind and making my knees buckle under my weight.