darkest_fate
machina erotica
- Joined
- Dec 17, 2009
- Location
- the INTERNET
The hair brush ran through the thick black hair several times, as Princess Jasmine worked her way through her nightly routine. Everything was calm and safe in Agrabah, and there was certainly no reason to be on your guard. Jafar had been sealed into his lamp, Genie had been set free to roam, and Aladdin was held in a position of honor, tucked away in his own room in the palace.
Yes, his own room, since the Sultan hadn't been quite insistent upon the two getting married quite yet. Perhaps he was still waiting for Jasmine to change her mind; more likely he wanted to keep his baby girl for a little while longer. Jasmine had to admit that this latter was quite frustrating to her. She'd long since discovered what happened when you touched those tender bits. Those impressive breasts, the mounds that were swathed in blue silk at the moment, were easy enough to play with. Just bring delicate fingers up to pinch at darkened nipples and rub. Or slide a hand down the well-muscled stomach, running along the waistband of the billowy, silken pants. Just slide a finger there, running along the black hair that lined the sex, and then prod at those lips.
Jasmine was half tempted to engage in such acts now, frustrated as she was. Per usual, she and Aladdin had some time alone, which they'd spent kissing with steadily increasing passion. The kiss had done its job, as Aladdin was proving to be a quick learner in that department. However, he was also intelligent, or at least cautious. The moment Jasmine worked his hands down her slim body, he'd balked, insisting that her father wouldn't approve.
So the princess was instead attempting to work her frustrations through her hair. She fluffed the waist length mass, feeling its heft as it hit her pert, heart-shaped rear. The princess sighed, rising to her feet. Perhaps she should just sneak into Aladdin's chamber. What her father didn't know wouldn't hurt them.
Yes, his own room, since the Sultan hadn't been quite insistent upon the two getting married quite yet. Perhaps he was still waiting for Jasmine to change her mind; more likely he wanted to keep his baby girl for a little while longer. Jasmine had to admit that this latter was quite frustrating to her. She'd long since discovered what happened when you touched those tender bits. Those impressive breasts, the mounds that were swathed in blue silk at the moment, were easy enough to play with. Just bring delicate fingers up to pinch at darkened nipples and rub. Or slide a hand down the well-muscled stomach, running along the waistband of the billowy, silken pants. Just slide a finger there, running along the black hair that lined the sex, and then prod at those lips.
Jasmine was half tempted to engage in such acts now, frustrated as she was. Per usual, she and Aladdin had some time alone, which they'd spent kissing with steadily increasing passion. The kiss had done its job, as Aladdin was proving to be a quick learner in that department. However, he was also intelligent, or at least cautious. The moment Jasmine worked his hands down her slim body, he'd balked, insisting that her father wouldn't approve.
So the princess was instead attempting to work her frustrations through her hair. She fluffed the waist length mass, feeling its heft as it hit her pert, heart-shaped rear. The princess sighed, rising to her feet. Perhaps she should just sneak into Aladdin's chamber. What her father didn't know wouldn't hurt them.