The German Prince (or Princess) & The Nubian
“Greetings, Your Serene Highness,” the aging butler saluted the 4th Prince of Altberg-Langenstein-Briersdorf.
“Good morning,” replied Maxmilian.
“I have drawn your bath, sir.”
“Very good, Finkel! I will make me way into the wash room shortly. Please have cook prepare potato pancakes and fruited sausage for me. Kuluc, be a dear and inform Finkel of what you wish for breakfast,” the thirty-three year-old sovereign said to his bedmate.
Kuluc yawned and rolled over. Maxmilian Ferdinand Ernst Georg, the ruler of the small German principality, heard his African physical fitness trainer mumble something to the servant. He headed off coolly towards his piping hot bath to relax before noshing and handling the pressing affairs of state that awaited him this morning. As he removed his robe and slid into the water, he despised the thought of leaving his cherished and simple, yet grand, Ausgeblendet Manor for the extremely lavish Berg Wunderschon Palace. He hated it for two reasons - the pomp & circumstance and his young, vociferous wife. The sole part he enjoyed was seeing his c***dren.
Max, as he preferred to be called amongst friends, had never bargained to become head of state. He was the fourth son of the 2nd Prince, a product of his father’s second marriage. His eldest b*****r succeeded as the 3rd Prince, but both of the other b*****rs in between them died – one in battle, the other of smallpox. Since none of his b*****rs had produced male heirs, the task fell to Max. He was the last in the line of males so a rush was put to the order of him finding him a suitable wife. The only problem was that no one could deny the fact that Max appeared to be more interested in painting, conversation, and the company of handsome men than he was in meeting a wife.
The ministers of state finally settled on Princess Anna Karoline Adelheid, the youngest daughter of the somewhat impoverished Landgrave of Zittau. She was ten years younger than new, effeminate sovereign. And, she was no less impressed by him. They went about the task of producing a son. A little known secret was that Max would secretly rendezvous with one of his most strapping military colonels prior to going into Anna’s bedchamber. The first pregnancy resulted in a daughter, Feodora. Max loved her dearly, but lamented the fact that he had to knock up his wife once more. He secretly recruited a soldier to seduce his bride. Rumors swirled the newborn born that came eleven months after the first tryst was not really Max’s. But, the Prince did not care. He doted on the boy as much as he did the girl.
After the birth of little Prince Ernst, Max decided to undertake an expedition to Africa. He set out to sail with a navy ship that was bound for the Horn of Africa. On one of the vessel’s final ports, Max met tall and imposing Kuluc. He invited the man aboard the ship and into his lavish quarters. The lean, muscular worker could tell, despite the language barrier, that this white man wanted to be his woman. After a week, a salary and position were negotiated for Kuluc along with a payment to his f****y that would guarantee them a life of comparative luxury amongst the natives.
Kuluc missed his homeland occasionally. He did not grieve too heartedly as he knew his f****y was well-taken care of and he had been installed at one of the stateliest homes he had ever seen. The veritable chateau had just over 1,000 square-meters of living space (almost 11,000 square-feet), a butler, a full kitchen staff, a hundred acres of plush land, a great stable, and several equestrians. Also, Max had no issue with Kuluc entertaining any of the voluptuous German ladies during his absences from the estate. All in all, he considered a good life when contrasting it with what it would have been back home.
In the past three years, Kuluc had mastered the German language and was now working on French in addition to his native Ki-Swahili. He dressed finely and was noted as an adept conversationalist. Max only asked that he remain in tip-top physical condition. The only downside for Kuluc’s arrival was that Colonel Hans-Amold Eichel was left without his favored status. Max had offered a fancy sum and a small estate grant to compensate his long-time lover. The military professional retired to his country home with little fanfare and took a wife.
Max drifted away in the bath when he heard footsteps. He opened his eyes to see the impressive Kuluc before him.
“Shall we indulge before breakfast,” the African Adonis asked him.
“Of course,” Max replied rising.
Kuluc admired his dripping body and grabbed him, “Submit yourself, woman,” he ordered.
Max purred, “Yes sir. Shall I suck your cock?”
“Absolutely,” Kuluc demanded.
Max dropped to his knees and beheld the massive nine inch dick in front of him. He thought back to last night and how Kuluc has ravaged his hole. He was certain the entire village had heard his screams. It was for this reason that the Nubian strutted around the estate as the master. Max cared nothing for the whispers or slight disdain some might feel. He had selected the staff based on their openness and loyalty. He opened wide and swallowed the mighty Black rod.
“Yes, my little princess,” Kuluc groaned. “Suck my large African dick. I’m going to fuck your womanly asshole hard and long.”
“Oh yes sir,” mumbled Max.
“Very good,” Kuluc added grabbing the Prince’s head. “Cause it to become wet. Extremely wet.”
“I love it,” groaned the sovereign.
“As do I,” the dominant ebony master said in his perfect German. He felt playful and switched to French, “Vous etes ma petite coquette.”
This turned Max on so immensely that he pulled away from Kuluc’s manhood and began begging in the Romance Language to feel it deep inside his ass. Kuluc gripped his hair and led him f***efully towards their sl**ping quarters. Kuluc tossed the more diminutive and delicate ruler onto the lush bed and climbed in after him. “Fucking your ass is my only pleasure,” Kuluc opined in French still. “Submit yourself.”
Max spread open his ass cheeks for Kuluc to enter. When the fat African tool pressed against the supple hole, there was still some friction. Kuluc enjoyed the fact that wealthy white sissy boy was still tight even after all this time of being impaled by his hefty dick. Inch by inch, Kuluc’s engrossed member worked inside of Max.
“You enjoy this, my kitten,” Kuluc inquired knowing full well the answer.
“Yes, my king,” Max replied in French.
Max had accepted all of Kuluc and now it was time for the pounding. Kuluc paid no mind to starting off slow. He hammered away full steam ahead as he knew Max would be absent for the next week. The truth was that there was no woman on or near the estate that could take Kuluc’s passionate assault the way Max could. Kuluc fucked him feverishly. Max cried out and wailed, “Oh my god. Yes, my Kuluc!”
“Take this large African pole, faggot,” Kuluc yelled.
“Yes, my king! Yes, my king!”
“Your faggot ass better hurry back here to me,” the Nubian demanded.
“Come with me, please. I want to feel your manhood everyday.”
“Shut up, you dumb bitch. You know I hate going into the city. You are my country estate whore,” Kuluc continued their amorous conversation in French making it sound all the sexier.
“Yes, my king. Impregnate me.”
That was all the prodding Kuluc needed before he shouted, “Here it comes, my kitten!”
Kuluc’s generous dick erupted with a river of cum into the Prince’s gaping asshole.
“You are a beautiful princess of a boy,” Kuluc huffed after nutting.
“Thank you, darling,” Max replied.
After a brief knock at the door, Finkel was heard saying, “Your Serene Highness, cook has informed me that breakfast is ready to be served. Shall I have her keep it warm?”
“Yes,” Max hissed.
“Very good, sir. Also, Baron Thalberg has arrived with the travel party for Berg Wunderschon,” FInkel added.
“I will be out as soon as I can,” Max crowed.
“My princess,” Kuluc whispered. “I cannot wait until your return.”
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