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The Alliance of Simas & Jafra


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Prince Simas had invited Jafra from the neighboring city-state to negotiate a treaty that would align them both against the Prince to their south, Magreb. He'd had his manservant escort Jafra to the gardens - which were far less elegant and elaborate than the ones the Old Ones had had in their magnificent cities - but the paths were clean, white stone, the flowers neat and the landscaping as beautiful as possible.
Simas found Jafra seated on a marble bench, silver stitched velvet pantaloons about his ankles and the manservant bouncing up and down happily in his lap. Simas ran the manservant off quickly and Jafra scrambled to haul his trousers over his erect penis.
"So much for Simas' famed hospitality." Jafra grumbled in a huff.
Simas laid his strong, soft hand on Jafra's, stopping the dark haired prince from pulling up his fine clothes and covering his equally fine manhood.
"Sima's hospitality, is..." he replied huskily, sinking to his knees in front of the dark haired prince, "more, shall we say? Personal." Simas smiled up and the handsome young man as he gathered Jafra's thick cock in his hand. "Perhaps there could be more between us than an alliance, Jafra." Simas continued before he sunk his warn and eager mouth over the plum shaped head of Jafra's cockhead.

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  Simas ran his tongue lightly along the underside of Jafra's shaft. He looked up at Jafra's strong frame, the figure of a warrior, he thought. Gently he suckled at the head of the other prince's member, tracing the edge of the other's mushroom with the tip of his tongue. He draws back slightly, running his hand up and down Jafra's length, "I have heard that warriors of your city are quite hardened... The same seems true of their Prince."

  Prince Simas had shoulder length blonde hair and the glowing eyes of one who used essense crystals. He wore loose robes, as was the style of the philosophers of his city. From his knees he gazed up at Jafra, "Do you think my hospitality as poor as you would imply?"

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Jafra smiled down and the slight, blonde prince and pushed his head further onto his cock, "Typically, My Prince, I prefer a boy who talks less. You manservant was quite nice that way."

As suddenly Jafra lifted Simas by his chin, "But we are negotiating, despite the excellent quality of your hospitality, aren't we." He took the other man's robes in his hands and began to lift them, "What have we under here, Oh Prince?" the dark haired Prince asked, bunching the fabric about Simas' waist. He revealed a large curved cock with  a dak pink head.

He slumped on the bench and drew Simas toward him, "Face to face negotiations are always far more productive, I have found. What has been your experience Prince Simas?" The warrior prince asked, guiding Simas to straddle his hips.

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  Simas murmurs softly, eyes widening, as his mouth is suddenly filled with Jafra's length. He gasps in a breath when released, "Ah... Ha... Prince, give me a chance and you maybe suprised." He strokes the other's shaft as he is guided over it, "We can care for your weapons... but it's up to the warriors to use them." The young prince bites his lower lip as he allows his weight to settle, slowly sinking down on Jafra's member.

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Jafra made a sound low in his throat as Simas impaled himself on his thick shaft. "Mmmm... that's nice." He said, taking Simas long, curved sabre in his hand, sliding his fist over its length. His thumb trailed over the delicate slit, down the front over Simas sensitive frenulum as Simas balls came to rest at the base of Jafra's own shaft.

"This is a fine weapon, philospher-Prince, do you have much experience with weapons of such quality?"

He wrapped his free hand under Simas' smooth bottom and began to lift him up gently. Again he gave a soft noise of pleasure as Simas' tight rear slid over his prick. "More than an alliance, indeed - but, My Prince, will you truly be my Prince?"

Edited by WritesNaughtyStories
Typos! A bunch of them. Sheesh.
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 "Mmm..." the young prince begins to move himself up and down on the other's lap. He half closes his eyes, "My... battle experience is rather... limited." His fingers slip under the warrior's fine shirt to trace the muscles of Jafra's chest, "There are few equals to... train with." The youth gains momentum slowly, his breath falling into rhythm with his motion, "I asked... you here... to demo-... -nstrate what... I have..." his lips tighten, squelching a moan. "T-to offer." Simas is gulping down shallow breaths, attempting to maintain some control. 

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As the more slightly built Prince finds his rhythm Jafra settles into his own rhythm pumping Simas' cock with his strong hand.

"This is not quite what I came to see or show," Jafra replies through moans of his own, "but I'm certainly glad we're having this discussion."

With Sima's riding him, Jafra let's his hand wander up the other man's back. "I will pledge my sword to your cause, Oh Prince but you must pledge your sheath to mine."

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  "Ja- Prince Jafra!" He gasps, arcing his back over the other man's hands, "So sworn... my sheath is yours. Use it well" Simas moans as he continues to bounce faster on the other's shaft. Beads of semen form at the head of his member, flying freely as he forcefully impales himself. "W-well..." he laughs, breathlessly, "continue to."

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Jafra sat up to press his cum covered belly against Simas' cock. He rubbed the other Prince's manhood across his muscular stomach, "There is no such thing as too much swordplay, Philosopher."

Jafra's breath was coming fast and ragged as he struggled to speak. Simas was riding his cock with long, forceful strokes and Jafra was feverishly thrusting into him.

He half growled and half grunted as he pulled Sima's onto him completely and pumped his full load into his newfound sheath. Jafra fell back, pulling Sima's with him. Leaning against the back of the bench with the blonde haired Prince laying on top of him, Jafra kissed him.

"Let that seal our bond, My King." He said.

None but they knew why it was called the Alliance of the Sword and Sheath, but all the Princes knew that to cross either of them was to cross both. In time Magreb fell before them and the Sword and Sheath built a new, joiint capital over its ruins.

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