The Princess and the Pool Boy

As requested, I showed up at Princess’ house in the morning. I was wearing my black jeans with motorcycle boots, a t-shirt, and a leather collar with an O-ring on the front. A messenger bag rested on one hip. I opened it, looked inside, and smiled. Buckling it back closed, I rang Princess’ doorbell.

There is a tense gap between ringing the doorbell and the moment when the girl answers the door. If you ask me, that’s one of the most nervous wrapping parts. Suddenly, I became sensitive to every piece of lint on my shirt, every scuff on my boots. Was my breath bad? Did I look clean? Did I miss anywhere while shaving? I considered putting my —

the door opened and my attention shifted. High heels, shaped legs, short skirt, slinky top, gorgeous, beautiful, “Hello Princess.” My jaw dropped. She looked hot – absolutely mouth. watering. Hot.

Princess giggled. “Come on in.” Those eyes lingered for just a second, teasing, then turning away as she walked in. I followed in rapt attention.

Tea water was about to boil, and she set me to pouring her a cup. I stood next to the teapot, waiting for it to boil. As I waited, a million phantom fansies played through my head, pulsing with the immediacy of the royalty in the next room. Finally, the water came to a boil and the tea kettle moaned out high and shrink, dismissing the nymphs and succubi.

Princess sat on the couch, painting her nails. When the water was poured, and the lemon sliced, I returned to the living room and stood next to her with the tea tray. “I’ll have some when it cools down,” she said, looking slightly annoyed that I was waiting for her to take it.

“Just hold it until I’m ready.” She gestured for me to take a spot on the floor. I kneeled next to her, holding the tray.

“You look especially beautiful today, Princess,” I said.

“Thank you!” she smiled. “In about half an hour, I’m leaving for a modeling shot. That’s why I’m so made-up. Did you bring what I asked of you?”

“Yes Princess,” I said.

“Good, go fetch it.”

I set down the tea tray and stood up. “I think it would be cute if you crawled to get it,” said Princess. She snickered as I lowered myself to all fours and crawled over to where I had left my messenger bag. I retrieved the sheaf of papers from within.

It was a story I had written for her, entitled “The Princess and the Pool Boy.” I had written it specifically for her, and was quite proud of it. There were things in that story which would have made the Marquis de Sade blush.

I handed it to Princess and picked the tea-tray back up. Princess idly flipped through the story as she sipped her tea. “This is sufficient,” she said, tossing the stapled script on the couch next to her.

“You aren’t going to read it?” I asked, hopeful.

“No silly boy, it’s reading for the train ride. I’m almost ready to go. There’s just one thing I need your help with.”

“What’s that, Princess?”

“As you know, slavetoy, there’s a certain, well, Glow that a woman has… I’d like you to help me get it.”

My skin tingled, electric. Her cent suddenly seemed to be all about. “Of course, Princess,” I said, breathlessly. “I’d be happy to help.”

She smiled sweetly. “I thought you’d agree.” She stood up, and reached up under her skirt, slowly pulling down her panties. She stepped out of them and sat back down on the couch. “Now it’s your turn,” she said.

“To take my panties off?” I smiled.

“No, you silly boy,” she giggled. Then, appreciatedly, “You’re not wearing panties, are you?”

“No Princess.” We both giggled.

“I mean your clothes. I like you as my service, but I like it better when you’re more … compromised.”

I nodded, blushing. Article by article, I stripped off my clothes. Kneeling, I hesitated at my boxes.

“Come on, those too,” said Princess. I pulled off my boxes, revealing a healthy erection. My cock bobbed in the air, and I blushed more, embarassed at my nudity. Making matters worse, Princess giggled harder, I covered up my cock with my hands and she shook her head. “Hands behind your back, darlin’.” With a whimper, I posed for her as she inspected me.

“Well then, it’s almost time for my train,” Princess said. She leaned forward on the couch and grabbed my collar, pulling me in towards her. I lowered my face towards her pussy, Only to have me grab my hair and pull my face away. She gave me three quick slaps in the face, holding my face still so I couldn’t turn away.

“Bad boy – don’t just dive in. A girl needs foreplay!” she instructed, giggling. I applied and began to kiss her calves, slowly kissing up her legs. Princess blew on her tea and sipped it as I worked my way towards her already dripping sex.

I’ve heard whisper that I am very talented when it comes to please a woman. Knowing that I had to make this performance a good one, I paid extra-close attention to her needs. Slowly at first, then as her breath quickly, panted, gasped, I slowly quickly the tempo. I alternate between lots of attention and barely any at all – first fucking her with my tongue, then only teasing her with it. Sucking on her clip, then blowing on it. With metronomic focus, I tried my hardest to increase her desire while I satisfied her.

I knew I had found the right formula as Princess’ thighs began to squeeze my head. I had realized she was close to cumming, and rogue that I am, tried to make her wait for it. But my gorgeous Princess would not be toyed with – she grabbed my hair again and pressed my face into her, screaming as she rode my mouth into orgasm. In the back of my mind, I thought of a watched tea-pot, finally boiling.

Suddenly sensitive in the post-ecstatic twilight, Princess pulled my head away, panting.

“That,” she said between breaths, “was a Good Job.”

I smiled conceitedly, licking my lips. “Thank you, Princess.” At her gesture, I climbed up on the couch nextto her, cuddling her as she came down. I ran my fingers through her hair, holding her body against mine. After she had recovered, her face had a certain flush to it, an angelic glow.

“I got what I wanted,” she whispered. “It’s too bad there’s no time for me to help you out with your–” she looked down at my still turgid prick, “–situation.” I nodded.

“But,” said Princess, a Missing smile on her face as she stood up, “If you clean the kitchen and bathroom, mop and vacuum…” she picked up the pile of my clothes. “Then you can have these back.”

Princess locked my clothes into a chest and put the key in her pursuit with the story I had written.

“If you do a good job, and this story is worth reading, maybe, just maybe, you’ll get a bit of attention. Not necessary good attention, but attention nonetheless.”

“Yes Princess,” I said, slouching down on the couch.

“One last thing,” she said, pulling out her lipstick. She took my cock in her hand, the brEath running out of me. She wrote her name on my prick with the lipstick. “No touching. Or I’ll know.”

She gave me a peck on the lips as she left, locking the door behind her.