Page 25 of Snow White and the Seven Little Miners
“Well, you could always suck my cock,” Sigmund said lightly, giving Snow a playful wink, the old Sigmund he knew returning.
Snow blinked. He knew Sigmund was teasing. But he had never done that before, and the idea of it intrigued him, especially with the thrill of being caught by the other six in the next room. “Maybe I shall,” he said before sliding off the bench and crawling beneath the dining table.
“What? Shit, Snow, I was just joking,” Sigmund said quickly, trying to push himself back from the table, but Snow reached up and placed his hands on Sigmund’s knees. It was dark under the table, only moonlight from the windows illuminating the room. It was almost like being in a warm, dark cave. And he felt safe. Protected. Nothing would happen to him here in the darkness. He squeezed Sigmund’s knees lightly.
“I know you were, but I would like to try. If that’s all right with you.”
Sigmund glanced down at him under the table, before a wicked grin spread across his face. “Well, youdolook absolutely gorgeous on your knees like that, Snow White.”
Snow’s face went pink at the praise. He slid his hands up Sigmund’s thighs to trace over the front of his loose breeches. He could feel the man’s cock, already slightly hard, under the fabric, and he stroked over it with his hands. He fumbled with the laces closing them, then laughed when all he did was catch his fingers in them. “Perhaps you should do this part.”
Sigmund chuckled and undid the fastenings, then reached in and pulled out his cock, already half-hard. Snow couldn’t see it very well in the darkness of the room, but he could see enough to know he wanted it. He leaned in, brushing his tongue up the underside of the head, giving it an experimental lick. Sigmund sighed softly, the hand not holding his cock for Snow sliding down to stroke through the dark strands of the prince’s hair.
Snow let his tongue trace up and down, exploring it until the cock stood hard and firm in front of him. He rested one hand on Sigmund’s knee, the other sliding down to hold the base of the cock as he cautiously slid his mouth down, taking in first just the head, giving it a hesitant suck. Sigmund moaned softly, his fingers pressing harder into Snow’s hair. Encouraged, Snow did it again, letting his tongue trace a little awkwardly up and down and swirl all around. He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing, but it seemed that Sigmund was enjoying the movements. Confidence was key, he was sure, so he put all his effort into the movements, making them firm and eager, even if they were a bit sloppy.
He carefully slid his mouth down until his lips met his own hand where he gripped the base so he didn’t go too far and choke himself. With practice, he knew he’d be able to take more, but for his first time, he didn’t want to push himself too far. He moaned softly around the cock, letting his tongue trace over the headagain. “Good boy, Snow, that’s it,” Sigmund purred, stroking his hair. Encouraged, Snow bobbed his head up and down, like he had felt Sigmund do to him the other morning. It took a few tries before he found a good angle and rhythm that he liked, and his mouth watered more than he expected, but he decided that he liked this, giving pleasure to someone with his mouth, especially when Sigmund let out a sound that was half gasp, half growl. “Fuck yeah, beautiful, just like that.”
Snow bobbed his head up and down, letting his hand slide up and down the spit-slick shaft too for extra stimulation. He could taste the salty beads forming at the tip of Sigmund’s cock, and he paused to run his tongue over it and swallow them before going back to bobbing his head. His jaw was a little tired, not used to this sort of motion, but he was not about to stop. The little men had given him so much pleasure the other day, he wanted to return the favor as much as he could, and the sounds Sigmund was making were like music to his ears.
Moving his tongue around to tease as his head bobbed was becoming easier, and he felt little surges under his fingers wrapped around Sigmund’s shaft. The man’s fingers tightened in his hair a little. “Gonna… come, Snow…” he warned. Snow eagerly kept up the movement, trying to encourage Sigmund with his hand and mouth. He wanted to bring the man to his release, to bring him pleasure and make him feel as good as everyone made him feel. Sigmund let out a breathy little shout that sounded much louder in the silence of the cottage than it probably was, and he spilled his passion into Snow’s mouth.
He wasn’t quite sure what he had expected, but feeling Sigmund’s cock throb and pulse in between his lips made Snow’s heart do a little dance inside of him. But he choked trying to swallow it down, not quite prepared for it, and most of it dripped from his mouth. He swiped at it with his hand and then brushed it over his breeches, the mess fading away instantly as he slowlydrew back from Sigmund under the table and swallowed thickly again.
Sigmund panted softly, then reached down to pull Snow forward. Snow followed and let him guide him out from under the table and to his feet again. Sigmund grinned. “My turn.” He pushed Snow back until the young man was sitting on the edge of the dining table, his fingers deftly undoing his breeches. He was much faster and efficient than Snow had been, and his own cock was down Sigmund’s throat almost before Snow realized what was happening. He let out a gasp, his hands flying to the little man’s hair, holding onto it. Sigmund wrapped his arms around Snow’s lower back and pulled him close so his face was practically mashed against Snow’s lower stomach, sucking and licking at his cock like a starving man served a gourmet meal.
He mewled softly, Sigmund’s throat swallowing him expertly, and he knew he wasn’t going to last long anyway. He panted and groaned, his fingers clawing lightly at Sigmund’s hair, his head tipped back and eyes half-lidded in pleasure. He barely noticed when someone entered from the bedroom, until he heard Grim’s soft chuckle, “Well, good morning. Got your breakfast already, I see.”
Sigmund made a rude gesture at Grim but didn’t stop what he was doing. Snow felt a slightly embarrassed blush color his face, but he forced himself to stay still and let Sigmund continue to pleasure him. Streaks of blissful fire rushed through his veins, and his hips gave a few little bucks off the table before he spilled his own pleasure down Sigmund’s throat.
The little man swallowed easily around him, his breath warm on Snow’s skin, before he slowly drew back, giving the head of Snow’s cock a few extra strokes with his tongue to not miss a drop, which made Snow jump and whine at the stimulation. Sigmund pulled away, and cool air brushed over his heated skin. He opened his eyes fully to see that Grim was completelyignoring them, urging the fire in the hearth back to life as if he were alone in the room.
Sigmund grinned, and Snow wrapped his arms around his neck, stroking his hair. “Thank you.”
Sigmund laughed, leaning up to kiss him again. “Thankyou, darlin’. Great way to start off my day.”
Snow laughed as Sigmund helped him down from the table, and he slid his breeches back on.
“Heigh-ho, it’s off to hunt I go,” said Sigmund with a playful little hop in his step as he headed toward the door, grabbing the bow and arrows next to it.
Snow followed after him. “I wish you all the luck in the world, even if it makes me sad that you have to kill animals for food.”
“You have such a good heart, Snow,” Sigmund said, giving him a hug around the waist. Snow returned it, leaning down to give him another kiss. And then the little man was out the door into the slowly breaking dawn.
Snow glanced over at Grimwald, hearing stirring in the next room as the other little men seemed to be awakening. “I’m sorry you walked in on that first thing in the morning, Grim,” he said with a small, apologetic smile.
Grim snorted. “I’ve woken up to much worse, kid. Trust me.”
“I do,” Snow said with a sweet smile and was delighted to see the faintest hint of a blush cross Grim’s stoic features.
Fourteen
The next day, Dagobert was the one to stay home. Snow realized it had only been a week since he had come to this little cottage, but it already felt like he had been there for years. He was comfortable and happy, with seven men who cared about him, even loved him. All of the affection and friendship he had longed for as a child was being lavished upon him in spades by the little men who gave him kisses and praise and wanted to hear his stories of palace life.
The day was unnaturally warm for autumn, so Snow decided that working in the garden would be a good option. He wanted to clear away the weeds and clean up some of the vegetable rows, as well as pick all of the vegetables that were still there, for they would need them for winter.
Once the others had left, Dagobert joined him in cleaning up the breakfast dishes. Snow told him of the plan to work in the garden, and Dagobert beamed with happiness. “Do you want to help me?” Snow asked. The man nodded eagerly. “You don’t have to hunt?”
Dagobert shook his head. Sigmund had had quite a bit of luck yesterday, finding several hares and wild turkeys, so they had meat both to eat now and to store for winter down in the root cellar on the other side of the house. Snow was happy that, despite the famine ravaging the land, the little men were doing all right preparing for the cold months ahead, when food would be even more scarce.
