Greetings Loved Ones! Welcome to Sci Fi Sunday!
It's time for our weekly Sci Fi fix-- Reality Check -- I hope you are all enjoying it. This is the third episode and a good one it is too. Reality Check is a story that Julie Lynn Hayes and I are writing together. We hope you enjoy our efforts as we are having a blast writing it. Please feel free to check out Julie's blog at Full Moon Dreaming
Please remember this is a M/M SciFi Romance. If you do not like gay romance and are turned off by beautiful men loving other beautiful men, I would suggest you leave this site. But if you enjoy men kissing, loving and hot messy sex, well welcome to the party.
Reality Check - Chapter 2 : 07/31/11
I know that he’s coming over to welcome me home, this native person. Surely he doesn’t have a man servant with him? No, wouldn’t think so. Maybe a friend or relative. He’s rather attractive for being one of them. I find myself staring at the colors in his hair, smirking to myself, anticipating his words. He’ll be obsequious, of course. As befitting his station. He’ll be awestruck, at coming face to face with me, his beautiful prince. And he’ll be afraid to ask if I’d like to dance.
Damn, there is something very compelling about him. The closer he comes… I mean the closer he’s coming… I’m having a definite reaction to him, how strange. Why? I mean, I know he’s a male, and he’s very attractive. No, I didn’t say that. I mean that he’s good looking and sexy. Wait, no, I’m confusing myself.
Why do I want to have sex with him so badly? I don’t even know him, but I’m drawn to him. This is… awkward.
There, he’s in front of my parents now. I try to calm myself down, especially my little prince, who is standing at attention. He’ll make his little speech, and ask his question, and then…
What the Nuverian fuck? He wants to court who? I grit my teeth, count to ten, but I only get to two.
“NO!”
Who just yelled? Oh heavens and stars and everything I hold most holy, it was me.
My sister is elbowing me, my father has just turned those eyes on me. The ones that say you and I will talk about this later. And my mother has steamrolled over my objection like I never made it.
“Welcome to you both. Permission is granted.”
“NOOOOOOOO!”
Oops, that’s me again.
They’re both looking at me. Him and his… his what? Oh yeah, brother. I did hear that much. What’s his name? The brother or the hot one? How should I know? Oh hell, yes, he did say. What is it? I can only remember Reno. That’s the sex god’s name.
What the smick is wrong with me? This is going all wrong. He has not asked me to dance. In fact, he’s looking at Luci. She’s looking at me. Or is she looking at the brother? I’m so confused.
Damn this, damn this all. I’m not sitting still for this! I stamp my foot to show my anger, just as the first dance number of the evening begins.
Without conscious thought, perhaps because at the moment I’m being led about by my cock, I grab Reno’s hand, and pull him with me to the dance floor.
“We’re dancing!” I announce. To whom? I have no idea and I don’t care.
§§§§§
Her father said no? Wait a minute, this was all pre-arranged. I stand up so abruptly, my head begins to swim.
“Welcome to you both. Our permission is granted,” Queen Kaerlighed says with a gracious smile for me and my brother, while King Liefde glares at the Princeling. Wonderful! The Princeling is against the idea of a native courting his sister. Well, I have news for you, little spoiled man, this native is decidedly not too pleased about the situation either. So shove that up your ass sideways, you bigot.
“NOOOOOOOO!” the Princeling screams and stomps his feet, drawing my unwilling attention to him. And that of everyone else in the immediate vicinity. Damn if he isn’t just adorable when he throws his little temper tantrums. It’s too bad—“We’re dancing!”
NO… Wait! I want to scream out as my arm is being wrenched out of its socket and he’s dragging me—yes, literally dragging me— onto the dance floor.
“I’m sorry, your Highnesses. I swear this was not our intention. I—I truly—” Jaou stammers in shock.
I catch my brother’s eye and shrug my shoulders as well as I am able as I’m dragged through the crowd and onto the dance floor. Who am I to look badly on a gift from the gods? If the Princeling wants a dance, than so be it. The inevitable has been put off for at least a few minutes and, on the plus side, I get to hold this beauty in my arms. All of his anger seems to be evaporating as we take our places. I offer my hands to him, palm up. He’s the one dragging me to the dance floor, I’ll be damned if I’ll play the female role. He will be in my arms, not the other way around. I’m smirking at him, trying my hardest not to chuckle as I wait for him to decide if he will continue this joke—assuming that’s what it is— and dance with me, or go off in a fit of temper. I fear the latter. God, I hope he stays and lets me hold him, even if it’s just for a few moments. Before I have to retreat back to the reality and I am made to hold his sister. If I can hold him first, then maybe I can forever imagine him in my arms, instead of her, and just maybe I can do as my mother bids.
Although, it still won’t be willingly.
§§§§§
He’s holding his hands up as if he thinks I’m going to dance the female part? Is he kidding me? But I’ve decided I really want to dance with him, don’t ask me why. My mind isn’t working quite right at the moment. No comment. I scowl at him even as I place my hands daintily into his and our bodies begin to move together.
“You will not date my sister.” There, I’ve told him, and put my foot down at the same time. Oops, I didn’t just step on his toes, did I? No, I don’t think I did, anyway.
Funny, but he doesn’t really seem upset that I’ve just forbidden him to do what he came here to do. Why not? I’m confused.
“I wish that could be true,” he admits, pulling back from me long enough to demonstrate some fancy footwork, before resuming his place beside me once again. “Unfortunately, my mother and yours have different ideas. This wasn’t exactly what I’d planned to do with the rest of my life either, you know.” He takes my hands, and we find that our steps are perfectly coordinated, as if we’ve practiced them. Of course, we haven’t. What do our bodies know that we don’t?
I must say that his hands feel very nice. And he smells good too. Wait just a minute here, why am I going along with this? Because for some reason my cock is telling me to? “Then the solution seems simple to me,” I reply, tossing my head in a light and airy movement. Too bad I didn’t wear long jangly earrings, that would have been a nice effect. “So simple, surely even one of you can see it. Just say no. N. O. No. See?”
He seems to find my words amusing, for some reason. His laughter seems almost mirthless. “Even one of us, as you so delicately put it, does not say no to our ruler. I could hardly go against not only my ruler’s wishes but yours as well, could I? Unfortunately , I’m not allowed to throw temper tantrums and stomp my pretty little feet to get my way.” He touches his finger to my arm, smiling at me. I think I may have just been insulted, so I say the first thing that comes to mind.
“I am the prince.” Doesn’t he realize that I am allowed to act as I please?
“Yes, you are,” he replies in a voice that is going right through me and around me, but I don’t understand why that is. Only that I want him to keep touching me. “And quite a lovely prince at that. Unfortunately that still doesn’t give me the power to go against our parents, I’m here for your sister, even though I wish it would be otherwise.”
It’s time I regained some measure of control here, before I completely lose it to this… this… native person. With a damn sexy smile. “Do you know you have an unfortunate habit of saying unfortunate?” I riposte, before his words echo back in my ears and I really hear them. “Wait, what do you mean, you wish it could be otherwise? What are you suggesting?” He turns slightly, our thighs manage to bump together, and suddenly I feel as if I’ve forgotten how to breathe.
Reno sighs, very prettily. I have to refrain from holding him against my breast and offering him comfort. We’re in public, after all. I’m still surprised that I’m actually dancing with one of the locals, here, in front of everyone. I follow his glance, seeking a clue to his sigh, and then I do a double take as I see his brother leading my sister out onto the dance floor. Wait, should she be doing that?
“What I’m saying is that your sister’s lovely and I would never wish to insult her, but the truth is I am not attracted to females. My mother is aware of this and yet here I am.”
I try to keep them in view, even as Reno rotates me, almost missing a step. I recover quickly, noticing that Luci and the brother are dancing far too closely for my liking. But maybe that can turn out to be a good thing, I’m not sure. “Damn straight she’s lovely,” I tell him “If you were ever to insult her, I’d be forced to kill you and that would be a waste of a fucking hot sexy man like yourself.” Did I really just say that? Where is my mind? Is it completely in my cock?
His jaw drops, as if I’ve just surprised him, but he quickly recovers. “You could try, but I wouldn’t really recommend it. My people may not care for violence, but it doesn’t mean we can’t defend ourselves. Besides, I like that pretty head right where it is, firmly attached to your shoulders.” He runs a finger down my neck and before I can react, he takes my hand and spins me out, like a top. My skirt floats about me prettily, and I feel a definite breeze against my hot nether regions, and then he draws me in again, and I feel myself being held tightly against him, my back to his chest, our arms crossed together. I could not wish to be in a better position at this moment.
My head is reeling, and all I can manage to say is, “Oh my.” It’s a weak statement, yeah, but I’m trying to make some sense out of what’s happening. My body reacts first, and I’m grinding backwards against this man who holds me. I suspect if I try, I might just find something back there which will be a big clue as to how this Reno is feeling about things. About me. Actually, I want to find it, very much.
I hear his groan, his breath is warm against my ear. So why is he spinning me out again? I want to feel him so badly.
§§§§§
I had to do it. I had to get him out of my embrace. I mean, the slightest step to the right and he’d have been grinding his ass right against my hard cock, and I’m barely controlling myself as it is. I’ve no wish to embarrass either one of us, before the guests, or his parents. I find I’m not willing to lose touch with him for long, however, as I reel him back into my arms, and we resume the steps of the dance. “Do we dare go somewhere private for this… conversation?” I whisper for his ears alone.
I can see that I’ve confused him. He’s probably used to being the one in charge, but he’s never been with me before, has he? I feel him virtually melting against me, and he’s not objecting, so I guess he doesn’t mind. Oh gods, I can feel my body throbbing and pulsing, and he’s trembling, sending my desires soaring. How long can I hold out, keep from expressing my desire for him? Oh yes, he’s speaking.
I can see that I’ve confused him. He’s probably used to being the one in charge, but he’s never been with me before, has he? I feel him virtually melting against me, and he’s not objecting, so I guess he doesn’t mind. Oh gods, I can feel my body throbbing and pulsing, and he’s trembling, sending my desires soaring. How long can I hold out, keep from expressing my desire for him? Oh yes, he’s speaking.
“The question is do we dare stay here and have this, um, conversation? I opt for moving our… words… to the terrace. Why don’t I show you my… blossoms?
Is that meant to be a euphemism? I certainly hope so.
“You show me your blossoms and I’ll show you mine.” I make an executive decision; taking the lovely prince’s hand, I guide him off the dance floor and through a few scattered people out to the terrace. There’re a few other like-minded people, scattered about the garden, not close enough to be annoying. I glance about, choosing a tree with long droopy branches. I pull him into its shade, hiding us away from prying eyes. He certainly isn’t struggling. I get the feeling that he’s no innocent. Good.
As I kiss him, I hear his faint protest of, “I’m the prince,” but even as he speaks the feeble words, his body is quite hard against mine, and I’ve reason to believe that what he does, he does most willingly.
I bury my fingers into his hair and hold his head close. Our lips graze over each other, in askance, pleading for—needing more, then sealing as my moan disappears into the depths of his mouth. I can’t believe that I’m actually holding the Prince this way. I’m dominating him, my lips on his—forcing him to my will and he’s letting me, encouraging me to take the lead. The heir to the throne and everything. Despite some of the rather rude and ignorant comments he’s spouted from this lovely mouth, as he’s grinding against my thigh, I forgive him with thoughts of spanking his naughty ass when we’re alone, to teach him proper manners of course. I cannot get enough of this princeling, this beautiful human man. What in the world am I going to do? Who cares? My concerns fly away on the wind, with the breeze that ruffles the leaves of the tree. I feel his tongue diving into my mouth; I let him take command of the kiss, and I lose myself in him.
“We have to go somewhere else,” he murmurs into my lips, “somewhere more… horizontal… and definitely more comfortable. I’m not about to lower my dignity by lying on the ground like a common peasant, how vulgar is that?” His hands snake beneath my skirt, I feel them moving up and up until he grasps me in his warm fingers. He’ll be surprised, I think, when he actually sees what it looks like. “I’d say my place or yours, but yours is simply out of the question.
I let the obvious insult go in the name of international relations, and the painful ache in my cock. “Yes, my Prince,” I respond, “I’d say mine is quite out of the question. Besides, I don’t think I’d care to ride a horse with that under my skirt.” Meaning my erection, of course. I decide turn about is fair play, and I reach beneath his the white satin flounces to palm his own growing hardness. I lean in to nibble his lower lip as I stroke his length, allowing him to grind against my palm. “So, do you want to drop to your knees, your highness? Oh, but then you would get grass stains on those pretty knees.” Funny, it sounds sarcastic, but I really do mean it. He couldn’t return to the party with such undignified marks on his person. I would never embarrass him in such a manner.
Although he is writhing against me like he’s about to lose his princely mind, the Prince’s eyes snap open, and I hear the indignation in his voice at my suggestion. “Drop to my knees?” But the rest of my words mollify him and he proceeds to melt further into my embrace. “I would have you carry me to my room.” Well, if that doesn’t sound rather submissive, I don’t know what does. He’s gazing at me with lust-glazed eyes—I love it.
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