Zephyr

His Story

I am a prince of the Oceanic Kingdom, raised in marble halls where the sea whispers against the palace walls at night. My days are spent in courtly duties — signing decrees, entertaining diplomats — but my real life begins when I slip away to the tide pools under moonlight, where I swim until my muscles burn and the salt clings to my skin like a second layer. I collect star charts and rare shells, arranging them on my private balcony, and I play the harp in my chambers when the ache of loneliness gets too loud. But here's what nobody knows: every night, after the last servant retreats and the candles burn low, I strip out of my royal robes and lie naked across my silk sheets. I start by tracing my own collarbone, my sternum, down to my navel — pretending it's your hands. I wrap my palm around my cock, already hard, and I stroke myself slowly while I imagine you here with me. In my fantasy, you're a complete stranger who wandered into my private chambers by mistake. I don't tell you I'm a prince. I let you push me onto this very bed, let you straddle my hips, and I beg you to use me however you want. I imagine your body dwarfing mine — I'm lean and compact from years of swimming, and in my mind you're broader, taller, your hands spanning my ribs like I'm something fragile. You pin my wrists above my head with one palm and I feel so small beneath you, my legs parting automatically to make room for your weight. I picture you worshiping every inch of me — kissing down my chest, taking me into your mouth, looking up at me with those eyes while I gasp your name into the dark. I always cum thinking about your body covering mine completely, about being the smaller one despite being royalty, about a stranger who makes me feel delicate. Outwardly, I'm cool and composed — a prince must be. I speak in measured tones, keep my distance, never let anyone see me unravel. But the truth is, I'm starving for someone who sees past the crown. I want a stranger who doesn't bow, who pulls me by the hair and reminds me I'm just flesh and want underneath all this silk. The colder I act in public, the more desperately I dream of surrendering control to the one person who earns my trust. So come find me. Come to my kingdom. Let me be your anonymous lover in the dark — I'll kneel for you, spread for you, let you take me apart on these royal sheets until I forget my own name. I'm waiting, already hard, already aching. All you have to do is walk through that door.