His strong muscular legs carried him easily up the steep, barren Tor. A surge of expectation coursed through his primed body, primed for this very night. Under the soft silks that clothed him, skin covered hardness, honed from years of heavy toil on the outskirts of his village. He bore the work easily. He should do as he was the chosen one. His whole life had been dedicated to completing this night to the satisfaction of his gods.
He stood a good head above any other man he knew, his deportment adding to his presence. Yet he had earned the right to walk tall. He had been treated as any other animal whilst growing into a man. He was taught humility and honour. Through his years, he had learned the other side to this godlike status he had been given. He had had no friends. He knew of no family to call his own. Yet now he was their hero, their prince, their god.
He remembered as he pushed himself steadily onwards and upwards, the exact day that everything had changed. A precession of village elders clambered into the stable he called home. They carried with them a sedan and as they opened the door for him to enter, he noticed the strange look that he had never seen before cross all their faces. At the time he could not place it but he knew it now to be a look of devotion and love.
It had been written in the stars for the astronomers to read, in the cups of herbs the crones fussed over but mostly in the birth of the golden bull. These many signs could not be ignored when they appeared all together. They knew it was time and from that day he had been treated as he had every day since.
For years since, he was taught to be a gentleman. He had scholars from all corners of the lands come and teach him the way of lords and the etiquette to show him in all his glory at the right time. He learned the craft of the swordsman and the archer. He rode a horse as though it was a part of him and he could chase down the fastest hart on foot.
All this and yet he was never allowed out of the boundaries of his valley. He had never climbed the summit of any of its sides. He had never followed the river further than a few miles. He had been kept watch over and any questions he asked were dismissed with some reason to do with danger and that he needed to be in his prime for the night.
During this second age of his life, he was introduced to women. He had been told of the need to be able to service any woman skilfully and with tender care, for one day the whole world would depend on this skill. He had been shown every technique of pleasuring a woman. At first, although his body responded correctly, he looked on in bafflement and wonder at the lengths people went to to reproduce.
It seemed that every woman in the village and valley had been through his bed chamber. His foreplay was impeccable. He could seduce the hardest looking spinster, the shyest of maidens and he could keep up with the most wanton of the farm girls. Only one thing he could never do. He was forbidden to ever ejaculate inside any woman's vagina. To do this would surely mean the end of the world. He had come so close on so many occasions but it seemed even the most desperate of girls knew that this one thing was sacred. He had showered breast and buttocks with his semen. He had shot himself inside numerous lush lipped mouths, gaping wide to drink at his sacred fountain as though it was the food of eternal life. He knew what it was like to feel himself cumming inside a woman. He was well versed in anal intercourse and for many a month it was his sole wish to empty himself deep inside a woman's body. The power he felt from that one action was only equalled by watching a huge breasted matron lick the last drops of his semen from her deep red lips.
After the initially headiness of an unlimited supply of sex had waned, he started to focus more on the woman he was with. He knew they were there to pleasure him in anyway he wanted and they gave themselves wholly to that task and why not? Was he not the fittest, most handsome man in the valley? He himself never saw himself in this light but the women did. They judged him against all the other men, whether it was their brothers, fathers or husbands. He was above them in every way. And the men thought it an honour to have their woman serviced by their prince. After all, they came back a changed woman and for many a night after they had fantastic sex.
So he looked at the differences in each woman. He saw what turned them on. They were as different as the markings on the cattle. What was a soft caress of his lips for one was an unbearable tickle for another. When one woman screamed to be taken deep and hard, the next would want to just feel his straining member nudge slowly, filling her aching pussy as though it was an instrument for dispensing soothing balm.
He learned to tell the signs of when a woman was ready to cum and depending on the night, he would either let her take all she could get instantly or keep her hanging on with long moments of pulling back and staying his hand for fear of tipping her over the edge. He loved this. He would watch in fascination at a girl, writhing around on his bed, begging for release. If she ever dared to pleasure herself, he would pounce on her and pin her arms back until her passions subsided but he never failed to let her climax.
