Rose's Return: Prince's Pleasure

The afternoon sun beat down on the manicured lawns of the royal estate, baking the air with a humid heat. Prince Michael, clad in a linen shirt and riding breeches, dismounted his chestnut stallion, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips. He’d spent the better part of the day galloping through the expansive gardens, the wind whipping through his dark hair, the scent of roses heavy in the air. These gardens, meticulously designed by the royal architect, were his and Rose’s sanctuary, a place where the rigid expectations of court life melted away. He yearned for this escape, for the simple pleasure of existing alongside the woman he loved.

As he strolled along the winding paths, lost in thought about Rose, his fingers instinctively began to unbutton his shirt. The warmth was insistent, a silent invitation to shed the formality of his title. With a swift movement, he pulled it off, revealing his tanned chest and the smooth expanse of his abdomen. The feeling of the sun on his skin, the air against his bare flesh – it was pure, unadulterated bliss. He ambled towards the shimmering surface of the lily pond, hidden deep within the heart of the gardens, a spot they’d often shared their most intimate moments.

The water was cool and inviting, offering a welcome respite from the oppressive heat. He stripped down to his briefs, the cool liquid immediately soothing his heated skin. He submerged himself, letting the water swirl around him, feeling the weight of the world lift from his shoulders. He floated there for nearly twenty minutes, lost in the tranquility of the setting, before finally rising, dripping slightly, and returning to the bank. The dampness clinging to his skin only intensified his senses. It was during this time, lost in the depths of his thoughts, that he became acutely aware of Rose's absence. The memory of their shared moments in this very spot, their naked bodies intertwined, their laughter echoing through the fragrant air, filled him with an aching longing.

He ran a hand through his hair, a smile playing on his lips, and began to pace along the bank, his gaze constantly drifting towards the distant castle. Rose, his beloved Rose, was expected back from her extended travels this evening. The thought of her, the anticipation of her return, was a potent cocktail of desire and nervousness. It fueled his need, sharpened his senses, and ignited a primal fire within him. It had been weeks since she left, weeks filled with a desperate yearning for her touch, her scent, her presence. The thought of finally being reunited with her, of losing himself completely in her embrace, sent shivers down his spine. He felt a deep, insistent ache in his loins, a physical manifestation of his longing.

As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the gardens, he felt the familiar urge to release the tension building within him. He walked towards the edge of the pond, finding a smooth, flat rock to sit upon. He brought his hands to his groin, feeling the powerful pulse of blood thrumming beneath his skin. The anticipation was almost unbearable. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, and surrendered to the rising tide of pleasure.

He began to slowly, deliberately, stroke himself, focusing on building the anticipation, drawing out the pleasure. Each movement was slow and sensual, designed to maximize the sensation. The heat intensified, his muscles tensing, his breathing quickening. His cock, already hard, continued to swell, becoming increasingly rigid. The thought of Rose, her dark hair, her pale skin, her intoxicating scent, propelled him further into the throes of ecstasy.

“YES! OH ROSE, MY LOVE! GONNA CUM!” he groaned, a primal shout ripped from his throat. He clenched his fists, pumping his cock with increasing fervor, his body vibrating with the intensity of his arousal. His eyes closed tightly, lost in the moment. The world narrowed down to the sensations in his body, the feel of the rock beneath him, the heat of his own arousal, the anticipation of Rose’s return.

As he reached the peak of his arousal, a wave of pleasure surged through him, a torrent of sensation that threatened to overwhelm him. He released a guttural moan, his body convulsing with the force of his orgasm. His milky cum shot forth, a thick, hot stream, coating his stomach, groin, and hand. The sheer force of his ejaculation took his breath away, leaving him weak and trembling.

He lay back against the rock, his brain swimming in the euphoric haze of endorphins. His cock remained erect, still pulsating with residual pleasure. He took a quick dip in the cool water, splashing it over his body, a final act of cleansing before returning to the castle. He retrieved his clothes, carefully folding them, and headed back towards the imposing structure, his mind still lost in the memory of Rose.

As he entered the back entrance, a voice startled him, causing him to drop his clothes in a moment of disarray. "Shall I fetch you a robe, my lord?"

"Fuck, Martha! You scared the shit out of me!" Michael exclaimed, scrambling to retrieve his garments.

"Sorry, my lord. Did you have a good swim, sir?" Martha replied, her tone polite but observant. She quickly retrieved a plush blanket from a nearby closet and offered it to him.

Michael gratefully accepted the blanket, wrapping it around his naked form, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. “Yes. And how do you know I went swimming?” he asked, his voice tinged with suspicion.

“Why else would you be naked and dripping water onto the floor, my lord? Shall I bring your supper up to your quarters, sir?” Martha replied, her eyes fixed on his body with a discreet appraisal.

“You’re right, Martha,” he said, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his voice. “My apologies for being so abrupt. But you scared the life out of me. Yes, you can bring it up. Thank you.” He turned and headed up the grand staircase, his mind still preoccupied with Rose.

As he ascended the stairs, he encountered his mother, Queen Isabella, in the opulent hallway. “Hello, mother!” he exclaimed, offering her a quick, respectful kiss on the cheek.

“Hello, dear! Been for a swim?” the queen asked, her gaze scrutinizing him.

“Yes. It is warm out, so I took a quick dip,” Michael replied, a slight blush rising on his neck.

“Very well, my dear. I do wish, however, that you take better care not to walk around the castle unclothed. It is not very gentlemanly to walk around with your cock exposed for all creation to see,” the queen stated, her voice laced with disapproval.

“Of course, mother,” Michael replied, forcing a smile. He and his mother had always maintained a close relationship, a bond forged by duty and affection. He valued her counsel, even when it was tinged with criticism. “I will endeavor to be more discreet in the future.”

After finishing his meal of roasted pheasant, succulent vegetables, and rich wine, Michael retreated to his chambers, seeking solace in a book. He read for a while, trying to lose himself in the pages, but his thoughts kept drifting back to Rose. He imagined her scent, her touch, the way she made him feel – utterly, completely alive. The longing intensified, threatening to consume him.

Just as he was about to succumb to sleep, a soft voice called out, “Michael, my love! Michael!” He opened his eyes, his heart pounding in his chest, and gazed upon the most beautiful sight he had ever witnessed. Rose, his beloved Rose, had finally returned. She stood before him, radiant in a shimmering, almost translucent white gown. Her dark red hair cascaded down her shoulders like a molten river of fire, framing her pale skin with an alluring glow. Her body, sleek and sensual, radiated an irresistible magnetism. As she slowly slipped the dress down her body, revealing the curve of her breasts, he felt his control slipping away. Her pussy, covered in a delicate, ember-like bush, beckoned him into its depths.

He couldn’t resist the primal urge that surged through him, an overwhelming desire to lose himself completely in her embrace. He reached out and gently touched her cheek, savoring the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips. "Rose! When? I thought you wouldn't be back till tomorrow!" he exclaimed, his voice thick with emotion. "We left earlier than scheduled, as I grew bored with it all. Besides, my love, I couldn’t wait to get back in your arms again!" Rose replied, her eyes sparkling with delight. She slowly moved closer, her body leaning into his, and pulled the covers aside. His naked frame and rapidly swelling cock were now exposed, a testament to his burning desire.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the bed, the weight of her body a welcome sensation. They kissed deeply, their tongues intertwining in a passionate dance, lost in the moment. "Oh Rose, I have missed you so much! I love you so! I have thought about you every day since you left. Not a moment went by that I didn't think of you," he murmured, his voice hoarse with longing. "I have missed your kisses, your hugs, and feeling you inside me as we make love. Oh, Michael, I have dreamed of the moment I would be back in your arms. My cunt aches for you, my love. There is a fire I cannot put out with my touch. I need you so!" Rose exclaimed, her voice trembling with anticipation. She bent her knees and opened her legs, inviting him to fulfill his deepest desires.

Michael, unable to resist the pull, rolled over on top of her, his hard cock finding its way into her eager pussy. A gasp escaped her lips as the first touch ignited a wildfire of pleasure within her. They clung to each other, locked in a desperate embrace, their bodies moving in unison. "GONNA CUM! FUCK! I’M GONNA CUM!" Michael groaned, his voice filled with primal intensity.

Rose shrieked with delight, her body convulsing with the force of her orgasm, her fingernails digging into his shoulders. The pleasure was overwhelming, consuming, leaving them both breathless and spent. She sucked deeply on his cock, drawing out every last drop of his seed, while Michael, lost in the depths of ecstasy, pounded against her, determined to push her to the very brink. The world faded away, leaving only the sensation of their bodies intertwined, their souls connected. As they collapsed onto the pillows, exhausted but satisfied, they knew that their love, their desire, would never be extinguished. The night stretched ahead, filled with endless possibilities, and they were ready to embrace every moment, every sensation, every touch, every taste, until the dawn broke and they could once again find solace in each other's arms.

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