Gypsy (disney kink fill)
Fandom: Robin Hood
Pairing: Robin/Prince John
Humanized, please. The scene where Robin disguises himself as a woman and goes into John's carriage looks like total kink material. I mean, the slap on the hand, the "naughty, naughty" chiding, plus the fact that Robin enjoys being in drag is far too easy to form dirty thoughts about.
Props if you can also somehow include either/both Little John and Sir Hiss getting totally squicked out by the obvious noises, lol. :3 No fluff needed..just sex.
Prince John was a fool, but not that big of a fool.
Sure, he could not tell it was Robin Hood in disguise, and sure he could not tell that he was about to be robbed blind, but it didn't take him long to perceive a man under the skirts and bangles.
Oh, it was a good show at first. The voice a shrill but passing imitation of a woman's tone, the rouged lips and fluffed up eyelashes.. but most of all, the flirtatious manner in which the "gypsy woman" plied her arts to the good Prince.
It was there in the muscles of the arms and the squaring of the jaw, the strong line of his back when the gypsy flexed and moved...
Oh, and of course the bulge he felt when he let his hand drop under the table.
It was quite a shock to be at first expecting an easy lay from a common, gypsy-whore with whom his kingly-authority would have been more than enough to overwhelm, and to instead get a bawdy, masculine wink from under the makeup and hanging black braids.
"Find something you like, love?"
He could have the crossdresser killed. He could. He was Prince, after all. But then, what would he do about the erection straining against his primly-pressed trousers?
The man disguised as a woman goes easily when pressed against the wall and lets Prince John take his hands wherever he may want. There is a lazy smile under the kohl-rimmed eyes and slack lips and Prince John is torn between a desire to smack or fuck his impudent mouth. But he is too busy discovering the prizes hidden under the garish costume, like the youthful, hardened stomach, the corded legs he feels when he drifts beneath the gypsy's belt and the ass that spreads for his hands.
He is overcome, for a moment, with the perversion of what he is doing, and instead blames it on the debauched stranger in front of him.
His tone is snotty.
"Is this what the poor do to entertain themselves?"
He is mildly concerned by the flash of anger and defiance on the half-revealed gypsy's face, but it is soon covered with an easy grin.
"Just a bit of a lark, you see. Don't you enjoy a good lark, your highness?" He says with a knowing rub against the royal's clothed girth.
That does it. With the impatience of a spoiled brat, the Prince is shoving down his pants as fast as possible, eying the gypsy's eyes for any hint of laughter and only finding a very distantly-content expression as the lithe youth's hand runs up and down his own stomach.
He knows, in his weaker moments, that he is not a terribly attractive man. His chin is weak, his eyes are close-set and his hair is a dirty blonde that is cut in a rather feminine way as to imitate high courtly fashion. But he is King, he is King by all rights, and he can and will get what he wants, and the thought of his omnipotence makes him proud of his dick in his hand as he pumps it.
"Oi, let me your lordship."
And a clever hand from a clever boy wraps around him and he lets out a rather undignified purr.
"Come along now and stand straight, that's a good king." He is too befuddled by pleasure to take offense at the patronizing tone as the crossdresser works him swift and efficiently in his hand. He tries to stand as straight as he can when the deceiving gypsy drops to his knees and takes him in his mouth with only a momentary expression of distaste.
"Gracious." He sputters and his eyes snap shut, tight enough to focus on the pleasure, tight enough that he does not see his bags of money being spirited away right underneath him, his jewels and treasures passed out of his own window by a side-eying Little John. His blood is roaring in his ears as lips and tongue bathe and suck him, so he does not hear the disgusted huff of Sir Hiss as he sidles away to await the time when the questionable noises stop.
He tries to sound authoritative when he pulls Robin free from his cock.
"Now - I want you now."
A wet mouth smiles below twinkling green eyes.
"Alright, ole' boy, alright. To hear is to obey,"
And he, without shame or care, spreads his legs with pants down and ass out against the wall.
Prince John has lost himself, for the moment, his mustached face scratching that boyish neck as he buries it in bodily worhsip. His curiosity begs him to discover more of the mysterious stranger so eager for his kingly cock and he goes up to remove the ridiculous gypsy wig. For the briefest moment, he catches a shock of brilliant red hair.
He is surprised when his hand is slapped, hard.
"Now now, you naughty thing, leave it on if you don't mind." Robin admonishes as lightly as he can, affecting a girly tone once more.
In his right mind, Prince John would have been alerted by the casual, familiar tone. In his right mind he would have put together the voice, the eyes, and the tell-tale hair, but he is not in his right mind, not when there are handfuls of ass to be kneaded in his greedy fingers.
It is a miracle he finds his voice again.
"You must know that I rarely do this sort of thing, I am afraid I have nothing to give you to aide, erm... your end."
Robin Hood chuckles under the mask and pulls apart his own cheeks, inviting fingers.
"No need, ole' boy."
Pressing, then pushing, then sliding in, Prince John was bewildered to find a hole loosened and damp clenching and un-clenching around his cock as the gasping thing speared upon him shifted to adjust.
How, he wondered with a shaky grasp on his disgust amid a lustful wash of gratitude, how many men has this perverse stranger taken to bed to have been such a compliant fuck?
His whines are feminine and strained and in abandon, he grabs at anything he can reach on the handsome stranger under the tawdry costume of a gypsy: his askew wig, the necklaces pooling at his back, the thrilling handful of an impossibly smooth leg. This while the stranger, the boy he's fucking, comforts him.
"There you go, steady on...that's the ticket." His words are smooth and assured, with the barest hint of the stain of having a cock in his ass.
Prince John yowls out when is orgasm is yanked from him in stuttering pulls. He flops gracelessly for a few moments, and slumps down against the stranger. The boy has not achieved his own completion, not that it matters. He is King and the other man should feel so lucky as to be bedded by a royal. This he tells himself as he straightens up and smooths down his clothes as best he can.
He casts a critical eye at the lad who is pulling himself back together who insists on remaining in that ridiculous disguise.
He is feelingly generous in his kingship and extends a handful of coins.
"Here you go boy, find something more suitable to wear."
There is a bow full of modesty as the meager pittance is taken, "Many thanks, Prince John."
Prince John turns away, tired of the other's company now that his body has been used and it is the gypsy's signal to leave. On his way out, Robin Hood chuckles, a little grimly feeling the stickiness running down his leg, at the idea of his great trick of robbing the greedy Prince John blind. He stops however, when from behind the curtain he hears a lazy but satisfied,
"Oh, and do feel free to stop by again, Robin Hood."
Pairing: Robin/Prince John
Humanized, please. The scene where Robin disguises himself as a woman and goes into John's carriage looks like total kink material. I mean, the slap on the hand, the "naughty, naughty" chiding, plus the fact that Robin enjoys being in drag is far too easy to form dirty thoughts about.
Props if you can also somehow include either/both Little John and Sir Hiss getting totally squicked out by the obvious noises, lol. :3 No fluff needed..just sex.
Prince John was a fool, but not that big of a fool.
Sure, he could not tell it was Robin Hood in disguise, and sure he could not tell that he was about to be robbed blind, but it didn't take him long to perceive a man under the skirts and bangles.
Oh, it was a good show at first. The voice a shrill but passing imitation of a woman's tone, the rouged lips and fluffed up eyelashes.. but most of all, the flirtatious manner in which the "gypsy woman" plied her arts to the good Prince.
It was there in the muscles of the arms and the squaring of the jaw, the strong line of his back when the gypsy flexed and moved...
Oh, and of course the bulge he felt when he let his hand drop under the table.
It was quite a shock to be at first expecting an easy lay from a common, gypsy-whore with whom his kingly-authority would have been more than enough to overwhelm, and to instead get a bawdy, masculine wink from under the makeup and hanging black braids.
"Find something you like, love?"
He could have the crossdresser killed. He could. He was Prince, after all. But then, what would he do about the erection straining against his primly-pressed trousers?
The man disguised as a woman goes easily when pressed against the wall and lets Prince John take his hands wherever he may want. There is a lazy smile under the kohl-rimmed eyes and slack lips and Prince John is torn between a desire to smack or fuck his impudent mouth. But he is too busy discovering the prizes hidden under the garish costume, like the youthful, hardened stomach, the corded legs he feels when he drifts beneath the gypsy's belt and the ass that spreads for his hands.
He is overcome, for a moment, with the perversion of what he is doing, and instead blames it on the debauched stranger in front of him.
His tone is snotty.
"Is this what the poor do to entertain themselves?"
He is mildly concerned by the flash of anger and defiance on the half-revealed gypsy's face, but it is soon covered with an easy grin.
"Just a bit of a lark, you see. Don't you enjoy a good lark, your highness?" He says with a knowing rub against the royal's clothed girth.
That does it. With the impatience of a spoiled brat, the Prince is shoving down his pants as fast as possible, eying the gypsy's eyes for any hint of laughter and only finding a very distantly-content expression as the lithe youth's hand runs up and down his own stomach.
He knows, in his weaker moments, that he is not a terribly attractive man. His chin is weak, his eyes are close-set and his hair is a dirty blonde that is cut in a rather feminine way as to imitate high courtly fashion. But he is King, he is King by all rights, and he can and will get what he wants, and the thought of his omnipotence makes him proud of his dick in his hand as he pumps it.
"Oi, let me your lordship."
And a clever hand from a clever boy wraps around him and he lets out a rather undignified purr.
"Come along now and stand straight, that's a good king." He is too befuddled by pleasure to take offense at the patronizing tone as the crossdresser works him swift and efficiently in his hand. He tries to stand as straight as he can when the deceiving gypsy drops to his knees and takes him in his mouth with only a momentary expression of distaste.
"Gracious." He sputters and his eyes snap shut, tight enough to focus on the pleasure, tight enough that he does not see his bags of money being spirited away right underneath him, his jewels and treasures passed out of his own window by a side-eying Little John. His blood is roaring in his ears as lips and tongue bathe and suck him, so he does not hear the disgusted huff of Sir Hiss as he sidles away to await the time when the questionable noises stop.
He tries to sound authoritative when he pulls Robin free from his cock.
"Now - I want you now."
A wet mouth smiles below twinkling green eyes.
"Alright, ole' boy, alright. To hear is to obey,"
And he, without shame or care, spreads his legs with pants down and ass out against the wall.
Prince John has lost himself, for the moment, his mustached face scratching that boyish neck as he buries it in bodily worhsip. His curiosity begs him to discover more of the mysterious stranger so eager for his kingly cock and he goes up to remove the ridiculous gypsy wig. For the briefest moment, he catches a shock of brilliant red hair.
He is surprised when his hand is slapped, hard.
"Now now, you naughty thing, leave it on if you don't mind." Robin admonishes as lightly as he can, affecting a girly tone once more.
In his right mind, Prince John would have been alerted by the casual, familiar tone. In his right mind he would have put together the voice, the eyes, and the tell-tale hair, but he is not in his right mind, not when there are handfuls of ass to be kneaded in his greedy fingers.
It is a miracle he finds his voice again.
"You must know that I rarely do this sort of thing, I am afraid I have nothing to give you to aide, erm... your end."
Robin Hood chuckles under the mask and pulls apart his own cheeks, inviting fingers.
"No need, ole' boy."
Pressing, then pushing, then sliding in, Prince John was bewildered to find a hole loosened and damp clenching and un-clenching around his cock as the gasping thing speared upon him shifted to adjust.
How, he wondered with a shaky grasp on his disgust amid a lustful wash of gratitude, how many men has this perverse stranger taken to bed to have been such a compliant fuck?
His whines are feminine and strained and in abandon, he grabs at anything he can reach on the handsome stranger under the tawdry costume of a gypsy: his askew wig, the necklaces pooling at his back, the thrilling handful of an impossibly smooth leg. This while the stranger, the boy he's fucking, comforts him.
"There you go, steady on...that's the ticket." His words are smooth and assured, with the barest hint of the stain of having a cock in his ass.
Prince John yowls out when is orgasm is yanked from him in stuttering pulls. He flops gracelessly for a few moments, and slumps down against the stranger. The boy has not achieved his own completion, not that it matters. He is King and the other man should feel so lucky as to be bedded by a royal. This he tells himself as he straightens up and smooths down his clothes as best he can.
He casts a critical eye at the lad who is pulling himself back together who insists on remaining in that ridiculous disguise.
He is feelingly generous in his kingship and extends a handful of coins.
"Here you go boy, find something more suitable to wear."
There is a bow full of modesty as the meager pittance is taken, "Many thanks, Prince John."
Prince John turns away, tired of the other's company now that his body has been used and it is the gypsy's signal to leave. On his way out, Robin Hood chuckles, a little grimly feeling the stickiness running down his leg, at the idea of his great trick of robbing the greedy Prince John blind. He stops however, when from behind the curtain he hears a lazy but satisfied,
"Oh, and do feel free to stop by again, Robin Hood."