Chapter 2

What Prince Palomar was intent on cleaving were the twin pale pussy lips he knew existed down there where her legs joined ... cleaving them with the blunt head of his princely prick. But he had watched his brothers woo the chambermaids and ladies in waiting, and so knew, at least on a cerebral level, that one didn't simply climb on a woman and thrust into her. It seemed their sheathes needed to be prepared for the sword that was to pierce them.

Again, he had seen this done, but never performed the activities himself. Still, since she was willing to learn, he was most willing to learn with her, under the auspices of teaching her what the differences in men and women were designed for.

Soon Rapunzel was reclining on her bed, her knees drawn up and spread apart, completely unashamedly, as the prince finally got to see the bulls-eye for his arrow of love. The lips were, indeed, pale and tightly closed, as tightly pressed as those on the face of a nun who sees some sin in the process. He reached with one finger to see if they felt like the cold marble they appeared to be. His finger pushed one to the side, exposing bright pink within.

"Oooo, that tickles," laughed Rapunzel. Her head was up, coils of her golden hair under it as a pillow, while she watched, interested in what was going to happen. "Why does it also make me feel hot inside?"

"I believe that, too, is normal," he breathed, staring at the entrance of her sex. He pushed with his finger, moving the skin around. It was quite warm to the touch, and pliable, even though it had looked like stone before. Using two fingers he spread the lips apart. There was a darkness that made his penis clench, and above that a protrusion of some sort that marred the otherwise perfect symmetry of the furrow framed by the lips.

"Please continue then," she said.

He looked up at her glorious eyes, peering past those delicious looking upthrust nipples. He knew what to do with them, having watched his brothers suckle at them like babes many, many times. But he had also seen them feast and gobble what his fingers were touching, and while the girls went "Mmmmmm" at having their teats suckled, they bucked and wailed when the other was done. The idea of Rapunzel bucking and wailing because of something he was doing to her made his cock clench again, and he was suddenly breathless.

"I've never done this before," he whispered. "But I want to now more than anything in the world."

"You've never shown affection to a woman?" she asked. "But why? You seem to like it already. I know I do. I haven't been this excited about anything since I made friends with Reynaldo."

The prince froze. "Reynaldo? You have met another man?"

She laughed, and her sex bulged outward briefly. "No, silly. He is a mouse. He comes to visit me sometimes. I feed him and he lets me stroke his soft fur."

"Oh," sighed the prince, relieved that there was no other man, against whom he might be compared.

"Are you just going to stare at me all night?" asked the girl, giving her hips a slight wiggle. "For some reason I feel the need to be touched."

"Ahhh," he sighed. "Yes. Well ... I believe it starts out something like this."

He lowered his mouth to kiss those pale, tight lips.

It was a rocky beginning, in terms of her response to what he was doing. He kissed, and in the process caught scent of something that was undeniably "her" and which smelled simply delicious. But her reaction was to merely lie there and watch him kiss her nether lips, pressing them, and then pulling back ... waiting for some response that failed to result ... and then leaning in to press his own tightly closed lips to hers again. It was interesting, but nothing to write home about, so to speak.

Then, for reasons he could not articulate, he felt the urge to let his tongue pierce his lips, and flick into her furrow, sliding upwards until it met and smoothed over that little bump he'd seen before.

Now that got a response.

"Titan's balls!" she gasped, copying something she'd heard her mother say when she was surprised. She didn't know what it meant, other than it had to do with the god Titan, but it felt good to say for some reason. Her loins bounded upward hard enough that Palomar's lips were crushed against his teeth. He opened his mouth to relieve the pressure and found her pussy lips intruding. It just seemed natural to suck on them, and he did so.

"Titan's balls!" squealed Rapunzel, her blue eyes surrounded by white.

He let the flesh, now more loose than it was before, and not so white either, slip from between his lips and looked up anxiously.

"Am I causing you distress?"

She was breathing deeply, which made her saucy breasts heave in a most delightful way.

"Don't stop!" she objected.

Music to his ears, her order was promptly complied with, and he dove back in, understanding what he had seen his brothers do, as he parted his lips and began using them, and his tongue, to probe, pull, nuzzle and suck, almost all at the same time, as she did indeed buck and wail under his ministrations.

"The only," she panted, her eyes wild, "distress ... you shall ... cause me..." she gasped, "is if you ever stop doing that!"

The prince was only too happy to continue. He was learning more and more as he gained experience. That little bump, for instance, seemed to be the epicenter of the quaking she was displaying. It had grown larger too, making it both easier and more fun to suck on and nibble at. He was having so much fun, in fact, that he was unaware that her gyrations were increasing in magnitude, while her wails were getting louder and louder.

"What's happening to meeeeee," she cried, and her fingers suddenly gripped the Prince's long locks. But rather than pushing him away, she pulled hard, as if to make his face slide into her body like the cocks of his brothers slid into the serving wenches.

It was then that he remembered his protuberant penis, which was now clenching repeatedly, reminding him that the game had just begun, and that there was much more to do before she would really understand the difference between boys and girls.

Just then her legs wrapped firmly around his head and his face was drenched with liquid as her pussy squirted. This was something new for the prince. He knew men squirted, but not women. Part of his brain recoiled as he thought of something else penises squirted, but both his nose and taste buds laughed at that idea, because whatever it was, it tasted fabulous.

Since he couldn't move his head anyway, Prince Palomar sucked and slurped, swallowing in delight as his lady love fed him her delicious treat. Then, quite suddenly, her whole body went as limp as a wet rag, her arms and legs flopping akimbo on the bed, and leaving her vulval vestibule helpless to prevent prurient penetration. She might be exhausted ... but he was not!

He lurched upward, deterred only by her mesmerizing breasts, heaving as she tried to catch her breath. He loved strawberries, so he paused to see if the comparison could be taken farther.

As he sucked in lustily on the first one, she moaned. It was that same "Mmmmmmm" he had heard the wenches with his brothers utter. And she had lurched and lunged, whining and wailing like those girls did too. And didn't that mean he was doing everything right?

He looked down at his prick, hanging just above the place that had gushed her sweet essence only moments before. Those pale white lips had been replaced with loose purple ones, that gaped apart, like a mouth open in welcome to some treat.

He notched the tip of his man-pike at the gates. It caught and the tip was surrounded by heat. Then, believing he had done everything else right, he did what he'd seen his brothers do more than once.

He lunged forward, skewering his lady with his lance of love. He was so intent on ramming forward that the instant of resistance barely penetrated his brain before it was cruelly thrust through and Rapunzel's virginity was torn asunder.

His brain could not, however, ignore the scream of pain that issued from her suddenly tense throat.

Now as any mother will tell you, when her sons are young and callow, and find themselves caught doing some forbidden thing, their response is rarely to stop doing it and say "Goodness me. I'm so sorry. I didn't know!" Rather, such naughty boys try to cover up their error, and pretend that nothing has happened that anyone should pay any attention to whatsoever.

And so it was that Prince Palomar, fully aware that he had done something immeasurably wrong, simply fell on top of the poor girl, covering her face with his chest, while instinct registered the fact that his princely prod was firmly ensconced in gripping, wet, hot, velvet, which squeezed and released him frantically as it tried to adjust to the incompetent intruder that was stretching it so spurriously. In the process, his pubic bone first impacted her mons, which cushioned the blow just enough that when she writhed in an attempt to get away from the painful prod, her virginal clitty got magnificently mangled as he strove to get ever deeper into that wonderful wet warmth.

Her pussy pulsed as it relaxed, accepting the stretching gladly in exchange for the joyous jerks on her love button, and that ripple of welcome tipped the balance of things. Palomar's brain recognized what was suddenly happening in his groin, even though the boy had just learned what such things felt like only two nights before. But he was helpless to stop it, even though he wished to, because events hadn't gone on anywhere near as long as he wanted them to. He'd never felt anything so delightful in his life as her pulsing pussy around his prodding prick.

Then his balls emptied themselves in a flood of passion, which flood fairly gushed through his penis in a wave of pleasure so sumptuous that he cried out in joy as he spurted his sexual seeds into her genital garden.

"Oh fuck!" he yelled, and in that instant understood the true meaning of the word. No wonder it was spoken with such passion.

His passion spent itself quickly, aided in no small part by her whimpers underneath him. He felt like some beast who had attacked a small child, and raised himself to let her breathe and berate him.

"Are you well?" he asked, feeling somewhat foolish for asking a question a simpleton could answer. Of course she wasn't well. Her scream of pain had sent chills down his back, momentary though they might have been.

"Quite well, thank you," she gasped, her loins jerking up at him again, like they had when he buffed her button with his tongue.

"I hurt you," he said miserably.

"'Twas but a momentary discomfort," she panted. "Though I hope upon Titan and all the other gods that it doesn't feel like that the next time we do this."

"Next time?" The prince had been quite sure that, upon removing his penis from Rapunzel, she would curl up in a ball and ban him from ever entering her domain again.

"Yes," she gasped. "But let's talk of next time later. You're not finished yet, right? Something that delicious must surely have been meant to go on for much longer."

"I don't know," he admitted, feeling miserable. Things had been going so well, but now he wasn't sure at all that this was the way things were supposed to be.

"Then let me be of aid to you in making your decision," she huffed, grabbing his arse cheeks with her sharply outfitted fingers. "You are not finished!"

He had felt a lethargy creeping into his bones after the delightful gush that had seemed to wash the stiff right out of his pecker, but her announcement that he was not only not in trouble for hurting her, but was expected to sally forth again, brought energy flooding back into his body ... and his royal rod.

"You like this?" he whispered hopefully into her ear.

"This is my new most favorite thing," she replied.

It is said that the novice, upon entering battle for the first time, may find himself sitting on the ground, with a sword thrust through his middle, and have no idea how it got there, or where his own sword is. If the novice survives his first fight, he may still remember little or nothing of it. But when the battle cry is sounded again, knowing he can survive, he is eager to go forward and prove himself ... both to his compatriots, but most of all to himself.

Thus it was that when Prince Palomar's penis was once more engorged with blood and confidence, he set about proving to both himself and Rapunzel that he could wield it with skill.

It must be admitted that he had to experiment a bit, thrusting this way and that, going slowly, and then quick, jabbing into her first hard, and then gently and with sweet care. This experimentation also involved their lips, which found each other by error at first, but then, recognizing the sweet softness of the other's, sought them out again, until they kissed hungrily, their mouths mimicking the eating of each other's tongues as their passion settled to a constant, hot burn.

Neither wanted it to stop.

Rapunzel, having survived her own battle, in which she thought his mouth would cause her to surely explode into fragments, remembered the joy of realizing she had not. Then there had come a feeling so intense she was sure the goddess Artemis had pierced her with a silver arrow, causing pain at first, but then intense joy. And Rapunzel could tell that, if the arrow of flesh that now pierced her was moved just so ... it would result in another episode of exploding without actually falling apart.

So, with her hands, she gripped and guided, until his hips did the right thing. Her legs flew wide open, to give him as much room as possible, and her belly muscles flexed, driving her pubis up at just the right angle, until there it was. She reached, grasped, and cried out into his mouth as she was overwhelmed once again with pleasure so strong that it seemed to be a physical thing, burrowing into and through her body.

As for Palomar, he watched her with some part of his brain that he hadn't even known could see, feeling her reactions to his movements, sensing through her lips that she was on a path that led downward so steeply that she was about to lose her footing and tumble helplessly down. Unconsciously he slid his arms under her body to grip her tight, as if to prevent her fall. He felt her trip though, as her body went rigid and, silly though it might seem later on, he rolled with her, thrusting up in rabbit fast strokes, so that she could land on him. His own orgasm again took him by surprise and a rictus of torture twisted his face as his prick was once again the conduit for cool, agony-quenching semen that left his body to continue its soothing bath inside her overheated pussy.

This time they both went limp and senseless, his body imprinting her mattress with a much bigger profile than normal, and hers draped over him like a warming blanket.

Having tasted the sweetness of sex, the two young lovers were insatiable, and made love all night long, until the sun's rays stained the eastern sky a blood red.

Sadly, the reader must be reminded that the old sailor's diddy has merit: Red sky at night, sailor's delight. Red sky at morning, sailor take warning!

Prince Palomar roused himself. Exhausted, he drew on his clothing and shuffled to the window. A still naked Rapunzel hung her braids on the hook and he slid down her hair, vowing to come back that night.

But such change in a callow young woman could not possibly escape the notice of the experienced Hazel. No sooner had she climbed up Rapunzel's hair than her nose caught the scent of sexual fluids. No sooner did she look at the young girl she had extorted from Jack and Diane than she saw the lassitude in her eyes of a woman who knows she is loved, and loves in return. In a rage, Hazel threw Rapunzel down on the bed and lifted her skirts. Rapunzel's ravished sex came into view, purple and still swollen from welcome abuse. From her pussy still seeped the pearly issue of her lover's offering.

"Ah! you wicked child," cried the witch "What do I see? Evidence of your ruin! I thought I had separated you from all the world but you have deceived me."

Rapunzel was shaken and confused. All she had done was fall in love. How could that be such a crime? But she had no chance to argue her case. Hazel's rage knew no bounds, and in her anger she clutched Rapunzel's beautiful hair, seized a pair of scissors -- and snip, snap -- cut it all off. Rapunzel's lovely braids lay on the floor.

But the evil witch was not through. She was so angry that, using a powerful spell, she took poor Rapunzel into a desert where she would have to live in great grief and misery.

Then Hazel returned to the tower and fastened the braids of hair which she had cut off, to the hook of the window.

She waited.

Had the prince kept watch on the tower that day, he might have seen what happened, but he was drained of all energy, vim, and vigor. And so he fell into a deep sleep, watched over by his horse. Waking after dark, he rushed to the tower and called up.

"Rapunzel, Rapunzel,
Let down your hair,"

The horrid hag let the hair down. The Prince climbed to the window, but he did not find his dearest Rapunzel above. Instead there was only the cursed crone, who gazed at him with a wicked and venomous look.

"Aha!" she cried mockingly, "You've come for Rapunzel but the beautiful bird sits no longer singing in the nest; the cat has got it and will scratch out your eyes as well. Rapunzel is banished and you will never see her again!"

"What have you done with her you paltry pile of poop?" yelled Prince Palomar.