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Opening Paragraphs of The Princess and the Pea ~ A Naughty Fairy Tale
Once upon a time in a land faraway…….
Andreas gazed despondently out of the large castle window. He was never going to find the princess of his dreams at this rate. He’d travelled the world in search of her and although a few steamy (and scary) encounters had ensued he hadn’t been lucky enough to find the right one. Some had been really beautiful, some not so. He didn’t care too much though, for inner beauty was what he was searching for; something that can’t be described or quantified… a jé ne sais quoi … They had all claimed to be The Princess he was searching for, but something was missing and he couldn’t figure out what that was or how to ascertain for sure how he would recognise a real princess when she finally appeared.
As he watched the rain beat against the heavily leaded windows, the thunder rolled mercilessly. He counted the seconds until the lightning came to find out how many miles away it was. Seven seconds, almost on the doorstep. He leaned his forehead against the window pane and thought about his fruitless journey. He had travelled over seven continents, visiting one hundred and ninety six countries, looking for her. A small smile crossed his face as he remembered his tryst with Suri in Thailand. Andreas’ loins stirred as he reminisced. He recalled the way she had made his manhood grow.
“You should be called Adonis, never mind Andreas!” she had giggled as she rolled the palm of her tiny hand over his trousers, gently kneading his aching groin before slowly sliding further up. She was insatiable, but he didn’t want to discover what else she was going to do to make him expel that thick, creamy- coloured, warm, wet and milky substance that he had only ever seen while alone. Besides, he wanted to save that for the right princess. His real princess.
Andreas arose from his daydream and was brought back to the present with a loud roar of thunder. “I hate this castle, I hate being a prince! All that constant noise and living up to expectations. I can’t even choose my own bride because Father insists on proof that she is a real princess.”
He’d met wonderful women who had either produced proof of their royalty status, but were not honourable or internally beautiful, or women who could have been just what he was looking for but, alas, no proof! Time was running short; he must find his Princess Bride before his twentieth birthday. He went to his room, undressed and then climbed underneath the covers. It wasn’t long before he slowly rubbed himself to an erection whilst manipulating his swollen sac, and then drifted off to sleep.
[Last edited Feb 29, 2012 13:53:04]
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