A childhood of being spoiled rotten rendered the Prince unable to do anything for himself. I had been brought in as a tutor of literature, but the Prince took a liking to me and soon he was demanding I accompany him everywhere as an escort and friend: “Zaheed, come with me to pick berries.” “Zaheed, come with me to the theater.” “Zaheed, come wash my back.” “Zaheed I can’t find my other sandal.” “Zaheed I need help organizing the books.”
Despite his helplessness, he was polite and grateful and I began to suspect he was doing it a little on purpose just so we’d be alone together. His parents were …how do I say… smothering, and there was always a maid or servant at his side. All the adults in his life had been women thus far, and I think he was curious about me.
One blistering summer evening, I was half sleeping naked half sweating to death in my room when I heard a soft knocking on the door. “Zaheed?”
I knew his voice. “Come in.” I lit the bedside lamp.
The Prince came to my bedside completely naked, clutching his favorite blankie. I had seem him naked, but never hard. The entire tip of his cock was glistening. It was hard to tear my eyes away from it. “Are you alright, my Prince?”
“I can’t sleep,” he pouted, “It’s too hot, and then when I did sleep I woke up because I felt funny and the sheets feel uncomfortable.”
I stared at him, searching his eyes for some sign he was playing with me. “…My Prince, love, didn’t your physicians teach you about masturbation?”
He stared at him. “What’s that?”
I put my hand down on the edge of the bed to hold myself up from the shock, missed, and flailed to keep myself from ending up on the floor. I coughed and arranged myself, piling the sheets over my nude crotch to hide my involuntary reaction. “Well. It’s uh. Do you ever wake up to find the sheets wet? or your clothing? and it’s not urine?”
His deep chocolate eyes went wide. “That’s what masturbation is?”
Oh Allah help me. “No, no…that’s night emissions. If you don’t relieve the build up of fluid in your testicles, your body does it for you. You can do it yourself, it’s called masturbation. It feels good.” I might as well have been speaking in tongues, he wasn’t comprehending this at all.
“Zaheed, can you teach me? I’m tired.”
I exhaled slowly. “Alright, come here, love.”
I pushed the sheets aside so he could sit between my legs. The Prince took an interest in my cock, and without even asking reached out to touch as if it was sharp. I pushed his hand away, “It’s not nice to touch people there without asking. Now come on, sit here, back to me.” I removed his fez and set it on the nightstand. When he settled, I ran my palms over his shoulders and the sweat-slick bumps of his vertabrae. He was smaller than I, but the muscles over his scapulas bulged from sword training. There was no hair on his back, but it was plentiful below his waist.
“That’s it, just get comfortable…can I call you by another name or must I say Prince in such an intimate setting?”
He exhaled under my caresses, “You may call me Saïd.”
“That’s a nice name, Saïd.” I reached around and ran my hands over his thighs. “Now, Saïd, take your hand and wrap it around your cock.” He seemed perplexed so I guided his hand and wrapped his fingers around his member. I felt his breath hitch. “Now stroke.” Most will never have the the privilege of watching a man discover himself for the first time. First, hesitancy and unsureness, then they discover how nice it feels, set a rhythm and build a speed until the inevitable climax. Saïd was beautiful as he masturbated himself, a bright sheen on his skin, the only sound in the room was his ragged breathing. “Oh Zaheed it does feel good…”
“Don’t go too fast,” I cautioned, “Cup your balls a little… roll the tip of your cockhead in your fingers.” I watched over his shoulder as Saïd explored himself, discovering what made a moan and a gasp and what caused twitches of discomfort. Pre-cum started to drip and he played with it too, fascinated by the viscosity of it. My own erection was pressing into the base of his spine.
The Prince’s balls were hitching high in their sac now, so I knew he was close… and then Saïd stopped. “Zaheed?”
“Yes…?”
“My hands are cramping …can you finish me?”
“….Of course, my Prince.”
He leaned back against me as I found his cock with my hands. His skin was searing hot and soaking wet. I rolled his balls in my palms and found them taunt and full. I massaged the tip with my thumb and forefinger while my land stroked his shaft. “Oh Zaheed…Zaheed!” Saïd contracted his legs and curled his toes, thrashing in my lap as I teased him to orgasm. He thrust into my hands, shouting in rapture as it over came him. Saïd’s pearly cum coated my hand, his thighs, and splattered over my sheets. He just came and came and came, an endless torent. I squeezed his balls and the final amount dribbled out onto the bed.
Saïd collapsed onto me, sucking in huge lung fulls of air. I wiped my hand on the soiled sheets and gave him some water to drink. “Oh Zaheed…that was amazing…” he panted. “I wanna do it again.”
I laughed, “Prince, my love.. it’s 3 am and you’re all sensitive now. You need to go back to your room and sleep.”
“I sleep here,” he murmured, rolling halfway over and nuzzling my shoulder.
“But the mess…! You’re all sticky, the sheets, my cock-”
“Your cock?” he blinked at me.
“Yes, I need to relieve mine too.”
In the dim light, I could see Saïd’s lids were heavy with fatigue. “Ok Zaheed, you do, I want to watch.”
So there I was in the middle of the night, masturbating with the Prince curled up at my side with his cum still all over everything. Life is surreal. No one back at the University of London would believe this. It only took a few tugs before I came too, not nearly as voluminous but still a decent amount of seed. Saïd was almost completely dead. Right before he slipped away, he reached out an elegant finger, swiped my seed, and tasted it. My jaw dropped. “Saïd….”
“It tastes nice.”
I groaned.
When I woke up the next morning, the Prince was still in my bed and drawing circles around my nipples. “Good morning.”
“Good morning-”
“Zaheed, masturbate me again?”
…Oh Allah, what have I done? I’ve created a monster.