#1 champion in competitive faggotry

oh to be a prince stolen away by a pirate, he breaks into my room through the window, curtains billowing, his dark leather clad body so hard to distinguish from the evening sky, we’ve met before of course, he knows of my desire to get away, not just from responsibilities and duties but more so away from my parents, my king and queen, promising me that even in a world of bloodshed i will find more kindness and love than i have ever received here, but before he takes me away to his ship into this new life, he can’t help but let his eyes roam over the silks of my night clothes, the plush fabrics draped on my bed and chair, footsteps rushing outside my door as guards flock to the front of the castle, the glint in your eye as you stand over me where i sit on the edge of the bed, fingers caressing my face as if you ask i will give you one indulgence before we make our escape, i’m already desperately nodding my head and sliding my hands onto yours, then the next moment you’ve pushed me up against my bedroom door, the sound of guards moving around even louder now, as you slip a calloused hand past my cock and slide one no two fingers inside of my cunt, already wet for you, dizzy with the effect you have on me, terrified of us getting caught, worried i’ll make too much noise, you put a hand over my mouth as you fuck your fingers into me harder, whispering in my ear, “that’s a good little prince, they have no idea how good you’re being for me. taking my fingers like you were made for them. you said fine things suit me, and perhaps you’re right. because you are a fine thing my prince i would have you around me or inside me every night, wear you as you are the finest thing in all the lands”, letting your hand move from my mouth but telling me to put my own there instead, “you wouldn’t want them hearing us would you? what pretty little noises i can get out of you”, as you move your now free hand to rub circles around my cock, pinning me against the door with your body until i come over your hands, and then i’m limp in your arms, so easy for you to toss me over one of your shoulders, grab the bag i’d already packed some time ago, and climb back out of the window