Do You Believe in Fairy Tales #Halloween #Erotica #FreeStory


So it’s Halloween! Got any sex yet? No? How about candy? No? Okay, so I guess it is early. Here’s a little story to sparkle up your day. No creepies, no spooks, no vampires. But it’s a fairy tale and who doesn’t want to read one of those on a cold, rainy night?

Thanks for reading. Please do not copy or post elsewhere.

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Do You Believe In Fairy Tales?

“You will do fine, Covlin.”

“Yes, father.” The response came quickly without thinking. It was what he was trained to say. When the king said jump you jumped. Even if you were his son. Without further word, King Joreth turned and left his quarters, no doubt to discuss his upcoming marriage’s political ramifications with closest friends—the friends who brought Covlin to the point he was at today.

Of having to marry and take upon himself the label of High Prince, first in line to the throne. Up until three moons previously that had never been an issue. His two eldest brothers were set to take the throne at some point and he was happy to let them. Then his eldest brother Zedri was killed in a skirmish with a neighboring clan and their brother Korvu died of an unknown illness just one moon ago.

The very next day he was summoned and told that by the next new moon he would be wed to the eldest of a neighboring clan and would become the High Prince, walking in his elderly father’s footsteps until he was ready to rule in his stead. Ruling was something Covlin never wanted to do. Neither was he truly willing to marry a woman, though he would do it. Ever since he could remember he had been attracted to men and while his brothers were alive, his father did not seem to care.

Upon hearing his plight, Covlin elected to turn his back on his desires and to focus on what was needed for their clan… like any good High Prince should do. Unfortunately the stress had built daily. He was pulled into war meeting after war meeting, lectures on dealing with leaders from other clans, and unfortunately also thrust into the bedchambers of several scullery maids to learn to do the deed right for his wedding night. Afraid they would tell if he did not, he affixed an image of his last lover in his head to be able to fuck them. Then, afterward, he ran out into the fields and threw up.

It did not bode well for his wedding night. If he was lucky, she would beget with child quickly and he would never have to touch her again.

The stress built daily and when the kings and their guards arrived along with daughters they hoped he would choose, he could not handle it anymore and ran into the woods. By law he should not be there as it did not belong to his people, but the woods were the only place he wanted to go, the only place that calmed him. And the only place he ever met up with Kannen. He had no idea who Kannen was—had run into him one day while out hunting. Tall, with light skin and bright yellow eyes, he was striking and when he showed interest, the two of them had spent more than one wonderful afternoon in each other’s arms.

When Covlin entered the darkness of the woods, he didn’t expect to find his lover—he hadn’t been there for so long—but the moment he passed out of sight of his village, two strong arms encircled him and he knew who it was.

“Kannen,” he groaned.

“Where have you been?” Kannen asked, biting his chin sharply. “I thought you were no longer coming.”

Turning around he leaned into the embrace. “I am sorry. As of tomorrow I will be married and will no longer be able to come.”

There was a brief moment of silence. “I see. Why are you here now?” The arms which held him so tightly loosened and Covlin grasped onto them frantically.

“Please! There is nothing I can do. It is under my father’s orders. Please. Just once more,” he begged, knowing he sounded pathetic. “Every night they have shoved me in with a scullery maid and I pictured you to get through it. I cannot stand the fact that tonight I have to pick a bride. Pick!” he growled loudly. “As if I have a choice. My father has alliances he wants made. He will tell me which female I must mate with and that is the shrew I will end up with as wife.” The bitterness in his tone settled around him like a dark cloud and he slipped from Kannen’s arms to collapse on the ground. “I hate this,” he finally mumbled.

Slowly Kannen knelt next to him, trailing his fingers through Covlin’s white blond hair. “Not all must be lost,” he whispered gently. “Unfortunately my father seems bent on the same task, to marry me off to the most advantageous shrew he can find.” They sat on the ground for an hour without moving until Kannen spoke again. “If this must be our last afternoon, then we should make it one to remember.”

Instantly Covlin came to attention, his eyes alight, his cock pressing at the front of his trousers. “I would agree,” he said, unable to cover the need that was so blatant in his tone.

Smiling, Kannen reached forward and grasped his shirt, pulling it over Covlin’s head quickly and tossing it up onto a tree branch. “It will stay cleaner up there,” he said offhandedly when Covlin gaped at him. After that, pieces of clothing flew up into the air—another shirt, two pairs of trousers as well as two sets of underclothing. As soon as they were both naked, their differences were even more acute than they were dressed. Kannen was tall, thin, pale with yellow eyes and deep black hair. Covlin was shorter, thicker, with deep brown skin, dark brown eyes and straw-colored hair.

To them it made no difference as Kannen pounced on his lover, knocking him over onto his back as his lips attacked everything he could find. Covlin’s lips, his chin, nose, ears and neck. At the same time Covlin grasped his lover’s hips pushing their cocks together in a movement that made them both moan. “Fuck!” Kannen gasped, thrusting madly against the man underneath him. There was no time for thought. It was all touch, fondle, thrust, and grasp.

“Kannen,” Covlin grunted as his lover picked up speed and intensity, rubbing against him with abandon. “So good,” he managed to get through his lips. Good did not explain it. He’d had several lovers in his life, but none of them were Kannen who seemed to know that the left side of his dick was more sensitive than his right and that if he rubbed in a certain motion it made Covlin go completely insane. While both of them wished for more, there just wasn’t the time they needed for that, nor the patience to make it happen.

What they needed was what they got—two sweat-soaked bodies rubbing smoothly against one another, bringing both of them to the brink of pure pleasure. When Covlin began to make strange gasping sounds, Kannen who had been with him more times than he could count, knew he was about to finish. “Come,” he grunted, speeding up. “Come with me for the last time.”

It was with both sorrow and pain that Covlin let loose, covering both of their chests with his warm, sticky liquid. Kannen followed almost immediately afterward, collapsing onto his lover as he did so.

Neither of them spoke afterward. It was too difficult for Covlin to do so and he assumed the same could be said for Kannen. They quickly grabbed their clothing and dressed, walking away from one another as if they were mere acquaintances.

Covlin’s heart rent in two as he left the wood and entered his village. From now on, his life would be completely run for him. The woods would be off-limits. Not that he expected Kannen to return. Today had been a farewell, one which they both felt.

After returning to the stronghold, he bathed and allowed his servants to dress him in the ceremonial robes that were always worn when facing an enemy clan. They were their finest, their best—never show a weakness they stated very clearly. Once in his finery, he walked quickly through the dark cavernous hallways until he reached the main room. As he walked inside, he watched the other clans represented, each one sitting separately, each one looking dangerous.

All five clans held land that surrounded them. To capture their allegiance through marriage was smart and Covlin had every intention of doing so. This was not about his wants and needs, this was about the needs of his people. As he walked toward the dais where his father and mother sat, he glanced at the leaders as he passed, completely ignoring the rest. King Loku. King Brude. King Lorde. King Vren. King Zol. To his surprise, he also saw King Vergo who held land even further away. His father had wanted to ally their two clans for ages, but Vergo had always demurred. Why was he here now?

He barely had the chance to sit down at his mother’s side before his father spoke. “Tonight we meet together to form an alliance that will shift the power of our clans,” he announced loudly. “Whichever clan we partner with will make us strong, but this will not be the last one.” Several kings looked at him strangely. “You have sons, I have daughters. More than one alliance is set to be made. But tonight, we are here to celebrate tomorrow’s nuptials of my son Covlin and one of your children. Please, bring them forth.”

Pain built in Covlin’s stomach and he fought it back. This had to be done. He would make it through tonight and tomorrow.

King Loku stood up and a girl with ample bosom and hips followed him—she was very ripe for carrying a child. There would be little need of special healing for her in that aspect. “My daughter Kra,” Loku grunted. “Fourth daughter. Eldest three have produced hardy children.”

Covlin barely paid attention, keeping his face impassive even as he glanced at his father to see what he thought. The slight, hardly noticeable shake of his head told Covlin everything he needed to know. This was not the alliance he wanted to make tonight. Each girl was introduced and his father denied each one. When King Vergo finally stood up, Covlin turned his entire attention onto him. The others were not what his father wanted. That left Vergo’s daughter. He had no need to see her. He would accept her nonetheless for it mattered not how pretty or ugly she was—she would never be attractive to him.

“Many fine choices,” Vergo said and for the first time Covlin got a good look at the man. He was from so far away, he had only seen him once before. With his wild mane of hair and his bushy beard, Covlin had never noticed his eyes before. They were yellow. Was Kannen from his clan? Excitement and horror filled him. How could he take as a wife a woman who would continually remind him of the man he had left just a few scance hours ago? “Alliances are important and should not be taken lightly. We know this has nothing to do with Covlin’s choice but that which is best for Joreth’s clan. So, before I bring forth my child, I wish you to make your claim. If it is not my own, there is no reason to bring them forth, is there?”

His voice was cool, calm, unshakeable, and Covlin could tell why his father wanted an alliance with him. Their strength would be intensified. Who would want to mess with the clan that was so closely tied to his? Turning to his right to be sure, he met his father’s amused gaze and nod. Swallowing to rid himself of the bile in his throat, he stood up. “King Vergo, King Joreth would like to align our clans this night. I will take your child to wife.” And try not to be ill while doing it.

Vergo looked at him for a moment and then actually smiled. “Then meet my son, Kannen. I bring him forth to seal this alliance.”

The air left the room in an instant and if it weren’t the fact that he did not believe in them, he would think he was hallucinating, for standing right next to Vergo was Kannen, grinning widely at him.

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