It WAS NOT a dark and stormy night. Well, it was dark, just not stormy. Chrom groaned uncomfortably. How the fuck is he supposed to sleep with a hard on?! Oh, look. He has an idea! He looked down at his crotch, cock throbbing without mercy. He couldn't take it any longer, he just couldn't! His strong grip seized his dong and that killer lance of his quivered. It was so amazing, holy shit. He pumped himself, pulling his skin up and down his hardened penis. It's head started dripping pre-cum and he moaned a little. This wasn't enough! He looked around the room for something, ANYTHING, he could fuck. There it was, the sacred sword; his falchion. Totally fuckable. He grabbed it lustfully h,by its shaft, grabbing his own shaft and sticking it through the opening of the blade. He fucked it. He fucked it like there was no tomorrow. He moaned out, so loud, that the soul of his dead sister, Emmeryn, probably heard it and shook her head in shame. The fuck, Chrom. He came all over his falchion's blade, letting it drip down its sacred edges. It was so hot, he decided to lick the blade clean, loving the taste of his own cum. He loved it so much, he sucked his own dick. He sucked it so hungerily, he ate himself. There were no remains. Only this falchion.
Morning had finally came and Inigo walked into Chrom's sleeping quarters. "What...? He isn't in here, either? Gods damn it, right when I mustered up the courage to confess my love to him, he runs off... Maybe he's the Romeo to my Juliet and he ran out of Ylisse to save me and will return to propose to me! Oh wait, how did that story end again...? Oh, well. I will await for my precious Chrom to return and confess his undying love for me!" The fuckboy turn around and left, a grin on his face. The End.
