LOVE CONQUERS ALL
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
Lady Eleanor was sitting by the window when John walked in. He held in his hand a single, perfect red rose, the long stem denuded of all thorns by his careful knife and he bore it before himself like a priest carries the monstrance, with all veneration and hope. Love conquers all, he told himself. Show her your love and you will carry the day.
Lady Eleanor turned to face him. She was dressed in fine white satin gilded with golden designs that gleamed and shimmered as she turned, and John shuddered. "What did you bring me?" she asked him without any prelude or courtesies.
John walked to her and presented her with the rose. "The most perfect rose from my father's garden." he said to her. "The perfect rose for the perfect lady." He added gallantly.
He didn't expect the reaction he got, he'd hoped for her to smile, or laugh, or sigh happily at the compliment. She did none of these.
She snorted. "Cheap enough, if it's from your father's garden. What else did you bring me?"
John rallied as best he could in light of this. "I bring to you myself. I bring all my love, my heart, my life, my soul, my...." he said ardently. He was leading up to starting his love poem he had composed so carefully, so artfully, for her!
"Cheap, cheap, cheap!" Lady Eleanor dismissed his heartfelt outpouring. "You are the fourth son of the Earl of Sarahmount. The Earl hasn't enough land to give his own daughters for dowry, much less giving you anything more than room and board and..." She regarded John's clothing, clean but unadorned blue sleeveless, waist-length tunic over white tights and shirt and simple brown cloth shoes, "such clothing as you have, if that's the best you have and I assume it is."
"It is true that my purse is lighter than I would wish but if we marry I shall be the very best of custodian of your lands and...."
"So it's my lands you have your eyes on!" Lady Eleanor was not just the most beautiful, golden-haired young lady in all the land, she was the sole heir of her now-late father's estates. Her laugh was the cruel one of a banker to which he, a penniless noble, was petitioning for a loan. "You and that last one, Harold, he thought he could woo me and gain my lands by a song he'd written and played for me on his lute. Well, I sent him packing and you can do the same!"
John flushed and hid his face as he fled this cruel lady's boudoir, his heart still yearned to hold her! How could he explain to this wealthy lady that it wasn't her wealth that he craved, but herself? He had seen her at court the year before and his every waking moment since had been taken with thoughts of her, he had penned to her numerous missives, declaring his undying devotion, he had composed poetry that he'd sent to her and never once received a single word of reply until the one that had bid him come and lay out his suit for her hand or not as he chose.
Tears of dismissed love poured down his cheeks as he left the lady's house, strode down the street to the inn where he'd taken his room the night before, and where now he could but gather his things and depart in the morning, alone, bereft, forlorn and benighted. A mere twenty-two years of age, and his very life was now over, for if he could not have the Lady Eleanor for his wife, he didn't care to live any longer!
He made it back to the inn, and before the fire he saw another young man, his nobly handsome face and elegant bearing marking him as a fellow nobleman, strumming upon a lute. Was this, perchance, Harold, fifth son of the Count of Williambank, of whom the Lady had spoken with such derision?
He could but ask in words abstruse if that were the case. He settled himself by the fire and said, "You play the lute beautifully."
"I thank thee," the youth said laconically.
"Have you played your music for anyone else lately?" John sallied.
"Aye." the youth replied. "But my music, though beautiful and from my deepest soul, could not sway the Lady's cold heart. And so I mourn the only way I can, through my music."
"It is true that your song is sorrowful." John said, certain now that this was Harold of Williambank indeed. "But may I hear it anyhow from your lips, for my own heart is aching and it may heal my pain as well."
And so Harold paused briefly in his strumming, then started his song anew.
"O cruel love!
How could you be so heartless?
O cruel love!
How could you be so blind?
I followed you, after my heart's longing,
And there you crushed it, like a grinding stone.
O cruel love!
No longer shall I seek you!
O cruel love!
I'll live my life alone!"
And Harold finished. "There will be more when I have the heart to work on it further, but for now, my heart is still too pained to torment longer."
"Your song is beautiful and your voice wonderfully delightful." John breathed. "Your song has eased some of my own heart's pain, for I too have been to the Lady Eleanor and been turned away before I could speak to her of my own desires. You have your songs and I have my poetry, perhaps if we work on this together, your songs can erase my pain and my poems can still your heart's yearnings."
"I would delight if that could be so." Harold agreed. "But I have no money for this inn and must leave now if I am to travel at all before the sun goes down."
"That is no trouble." John declared. "I have a room here and we can share one bed as we share one torment."
"I would be honored." Harold bowed from where he sat.
After a sparse dinner (Harold had coins enough for that, at least), they repaired to John's room and, seated side by side upon the bed (the room had no chair or other furniture), John shared with Harold some of his poetry and Harold even played for him the song he had written to woo the Lady Eleanor. John could only sigh painfully as Harold played, for he had captured Lady Eleanor's beauty in ways that brought her right into this room with her. He returned the favor with his poem planned for the Lady but never delivered, and was pleased to see Harold's eyes filling with tears the way he had upon hearing Harold's song.
"You have captured her entire!" he exclaimed when John had done.
"As did you, and better." John demurred.
"Sitting here and listening to you is almost like having the Lady herself with me." Harold declared. "I could close my eyes and have her with me."
"Would that it could be so." John agreed.
"I would take her hand and bestow upon it my ardent kisses." Harold continued. To demonstrate, he picked John's hand nearest him and kissed it as if it belonged upon the lady.
"And if the Lady were willing for you to go further?" John inquired.
"I should slowly walk my lips up to her slender wrists, so." Harold showed with more kisses.
"And so on up?"
"And so on up." Harold kissed up John's arm, he could feel the lips through his shirt.
"You are audacious." John agreed. "But I would have dared more."
"What would you have dared?"
"I would have dared to taste the lady's lips for my own." John slid his arms around Harold's warm body and pulled his friend to his bosom and with their faces close, he placed his impetuously fervent lips and poured all the need he had for the Lady onto his friend's velvet flesh.
When he released Harold's mouth, Harold licked his lips slowly. "You are indeed bolder than I. I would wait longer, but when I would be ready to kiss the Lady, I would do it like this." And he reached for John's mouth and kissed John, and John felt Harold's tongue slip between his lips and into his mouth, and taste his inner mouth.
John groaned as that tongue touched him intimately, and he held Harold tighter and sent his own tongue into Harold's mouth in return. Harold didn't resist him when he did, though his intrusion was coarse rather than seductive, and indeed sucked blissfully upon John's tongue as it danced about inside of him.
John took Harold's lute and placed it upon the ground, removing it from any danger and then he pushed himself up and over Harold, laying this young singer out upon the bed. He levered himself up and on top of Harold and their bodies pressed together hungrily.
"Show me how you'd love the Lady." Harold sighed as John kissed Harold's neck in his ardor. "Show me everything you know of love and of life and of the way of a man with a woman. Show me this, my dearest John, my friend and my fellow sufferer, show me and in showing me, ease me of my pain of loss this day!"
"I shall show you everything, and take my own comfort in this as well." John promised him.
The two young men fought their clothing, freeing themselves and each other in a crazy tumble of loosened clothing and constricted limbs. If they'd tried this an hour before, without the songs, without the poetry, without the Lady still painfully upon their innermost minds, they'd have never reached this point, a relaxation of all inhibitions and a single-minded pursuit of this release that they could give each other.
Naked, their clothing in a tangled, mixed heap upon the floor, John pressed his body against Harold's again, feeling the hard, sharp tool of his friend pressing hotly against his upper leg, and his own cock was between Harold's thighs so high up that Harold's scrotum rubbed the top of it as well, and John moaned at that touch, the tickle-and-tingle of aroused manhood pulsing in its need and its delight.
He thrust his hips back and forth, sending his dong in and out of that warm sac of flesh, and Harold groaned as John moved upon him, his hands caught hold of John's buttocks and began to lever himself against John's body, rubbing his hard mantool upon John's thigh.
"Ah, ah, merry, I need more." panted John. "May I enter you with my pillar of love and if you let me, I think that the last of my pain of losing the Lady Eleanor would depart me entire! Say that I may plunge myself into you and pour out my agony entire!"
"I would be honored." Harold sighed and parted his legs, sliding them so that they surrounded John's legs and then he shifted a little and John found the way inside Harold to be but the pushing forward of his body.
Harold's mouth opened and he gasped as John knocked upon his nether entrance, but he held firm and John pressed against the doorway and it opened for him, and Harold moaned as John's tumescent tool spread him wide with male virility.
"Ah, ah, for love of the Lady!" he gasped out. "For love and for honor, for beauty and for art, take me for your own and take me as you will!"
"I have and I will, always." promised John and his hips began to buck, driving his dong in and out of Harold's tender, sweet ass. So very much like the Lady, John thought as his passion overtook him, so much like the Lady would have been, indeed!
With such thoughts and need, it was no wonder that he continued for but a moment and his joy was upon him. "Ah, ah, I burst, I burst!"
"Pour it within me, all of it, I beg of thee!" Harold cried out. "I need you within me, now and forever, fill me with your essence and I shall be at peace!"
"I burst, I, ah-ah-AH, HUHHHHHH!" John's body was wracked apart by his orgasm, he plunged his cock deep into Harold's bowels and held it there, sprayed his seed liberally from his body into his partner's, and felt with the climax that all of his pains of love lost drained out of him with it.
"You fill me, you fill me!" Harold cried out. "Uh-uh-GUUUUHHHHH!" Harold cock pelted the two young men in a jerk-spray of jizz that flew all about, peppering both with the hot spunk and Harold's fingers dug hard into John's arms and the pain increased John's ecstasy instead of diminishing it.
Completed, John sagged down upon Harold and felt the hot dick of his friend there, still firm and pulsing though drained of its power as thoroughly as he.
"Oh, blessed physician of the soul." John sighed to Harold. "You have cured me of my pain, and made me whole again."
"Say instead that we have cured each other, for I, too, am at peace once more." Harold agreed. "I think that I could look upon the Lady Eleanor and feel nothing but a sense of shame that I let that cruel maiden play with my feelings so." John mused.
"We are of one mind indeed." Harold smiled at his new partner. "I think that we are cured, but I think as well that the cure is of only a most temporary nature. There are some potions that work but must be consumed for the entirety of the patient's life, and I feel certain that this is such an illness that you and I bear."
"Then I shall see to it that you are never without your medicine." John promised. "If you will see that I am supplied as well."
"With my songs and with my heart." Harold said as he kissed John again. "Now and for always, for I love you true."
"Love indeed conquers all it touches." John agreed. "Sleep for now, my beloved, and we will renew our vows ere the sun rises."
THE END
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WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM