Jock's Baby

by Roxeanne Rolling

  “I like your color choice,” I say. “Very regal.”

  Luke sighs. “Eugene picked them out. I guess he really was going for the regal colors.”

  That makes me laugh even harder. “I was just joking,” I say. “I wonder if they make a special brand just for royals?”

  “Probably,” he says, sighing. “They’d probably be the same as the cheapest condoms, but cost a thousand dollars for a pack.”

  “I bet you could afford that, though,” I say.

  “Yeah,” he says. He pauses for a moment. “You know, that’s the first time you’ve mentioned money to me. I like that about you. Most of the other girls I’ve met here—that’s the first thing they ask me about or hint at.”

  “Well, honestly, money’s never been that important to me. I mean sure, you need a little bit to buy the essentials, and to go camping, and that sort of thing, but…money in itself just doesn’t have much value to me.”

  It’s true. I’ve never really given money a thought, except when I don’t have enough of it. I guess that’s the way it goes.

  “Is the RV slowing down?” I say. It feels like we’re pulling off to the side of the road. I look out the window, and sure enough that’s what’s happening.

  Suddenly, the door bursts open.

  It’s Eugene, poking his head in.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, sir,” he says. “And I apologize, miss.” He’s carefully avoiding his eyes.

  I quickly try to cover up. After all, I had my legs spread wide open, still straddling Luke, whose cock was fully erect. It starts to go soft, though, still in its purple condom.

  “Jesus Christ, Eugene,” says Luke. “Can’t you fucking knock?”

  “I’m sorry sir, but I just got a press release…it doesn’t look good.”

  “So what?” says Luke.

  Meanwhile, I’m frantically trying to find my pants to put back on. Luke moves gallantly to stand in front of me, with his naked condom-covered cock facing Eugene. Luke doesn’t seem to have any shame about his own body. And why should he? His ass is in my face, and I can barely resist reaching and just grabbing it, massaging it, running my hands all along his back and muscular thighs.

  “They’re’ talking about deporting you.”

  “What?” says Luke, seemingly growing enraged. Then he switches over to French. It’s the first time I’ve heard him say a complete thought in French. I guess maybe it happens when he really gets angry.

  I haven’t told him that I studied French in high school, and not to mention took four years of it in college. I even sent a Semester in a small town in the South of France. Sure, my skills are a little rusty at this point, and I have to struggle a bit because Luke speaks a stranger dialect of French that’s apparently only spoken in Liseria. To my ears, it sounds a little bit like Quebecois.

  It takes me a moment for my brain to start registering on the French, but what I can make out is that Luke’s saying that he can’t believe this is happening, etc. and things basically of that nature.

  Eugene responds back in French, and I’m surprised to find that his tone of voice is much more commanding sounding than in English. I suppose sometimes that happens with bilingual people—they seem to have almost distinct personalities in different languages. Eugene sounds quite intelligent in French, whereas in English he just sounds sort of weak willed and incredibly subservient—not that doesn’t exist a little in his French, the subservient part at least.

  “But what am I going to do?” says Luke, with a pleading tone in his French. “I just met Rebecca and I want to spend more time with her. How am I going to tell her that I have to leave the country? Fuck, maybe I’ll invite her to come out to Liseria for a visit, although I’d kind of hate to go back right now. Maybe she and I can run off to some other country.”

  What? Is he serious? Did I understand right? Wow, I can’t believe he wants to take me back to his country with him. That’s kind of a big move, considering we’ve been hooking up so far, and haven’t talked about future plans. But, hell, I’d be game.

  “I guess I wouldn’t mind taking a look at this famous Liserian palace,” I say, in English, since while I can understand the French, I don’t feel confident now in my rusty production abilities. “I mean, it does sound OK for a pile of old rocks.”

  “You speak French?” says Luke, speaking to me in English.

  I nod. “Sort of,” I say.

  “Sounds like you at least understand everything perfectly. I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I guess it never came up.”

  “You’re just full of surprises, you bad American girl.”

  I beam at him. I like that he has a nickname for me, even if it’s kind of a silly one. “That’s the best nickname you can come up with? Really? Even knowing that I’d understand your French nicknames.”

  Luke laughs and turns around to kiss me. I notice his cock is getting hard again in the condom.

  Eugene coughs politely in the doorway.

  Oh yeah, he’s still here.

  “Could you give us a moment, Eugene?” says Luke.

  “Of course, sir,” says Eugene, switching back to English.

  “So you’ll come back to Liseria with me?” says Luke, looking down at me.

  “I’d like to,” I say.

  But shit. I suddenly remember that this isn’t actually a fairytale. He may be a prince, but I’m just a regular American working girl.

  “The only thing is that I still have to go work,” I say.

  “Oh…” he says.

  “I mean, I’m on vacation now, but I can’t stay away forever. I only get 2 weeks a year.”

  “What do you do?”

  “Data entry.”

  “I don’t have any idea what that is, but it sounds boring as hell.”

  I laugh. “It is. And it’s not exactly what I imagined I’d be doing with my college degree.”

  “Why don’t you quit then.”

  “Well, I need some money,” I say.

  “But you said it’s not important to you, right?”

  “Well, yeah, but it’s important in some way. I mean I have to pay the bills. I have to buy food. I have to buy camping gear.”

  “Just quit,” he says. “I’m sure something else will turn up later.”

  I’m starting to feel angry. “You just don’t get it,” I say, my voice cutting across the space between us like a scalpel. “How could you? You’ve never had to worry about money in your life. When I say it’s not important to me, I mean I don’t care about having a shitload of your royal money, but…I need some! I can’t just quit my job.”

  “I can pay for you to come out to Liseria,” he says. “It’s no trouble. Or just come on the private jet with me. You won’t have to worry about costs or anything when you’re there.”

  I huff in a good amount of air, pushing out my chest, and then hold my breath for a moment. I do this sometimes when I’m angry. I realize I’m not thinking clearly.

  Instead of saying anything, I finally get all my clothes back on. And I put on a bulky sweatshirt for good measure, just to prove to myself I’m getting dressed again, I guess. Anyway, the AC in here is really cranked up, making the place freezing.

  “I can’t have you pay for everything,” I say. “That’s not a good way to start a…” I realize I’m about to say ‘relationship,’ but I’m too scared to.

  Luke looks at me with a confused expression his face. I can tell he really doesn’t get what’s going on. He actually doesn’t understand that I can’t just leave my job and go to Liseria with him.

  For some reason, that makes me calm down a little. I guess there really are some cultural differences that are hard to figure out, and that goes for me too, not just him. I mean, at first I though he was just big a thick headed selfish prick, trying to get me to quit my job, but now I’m seeing that he really doesn’t understand in the least bit how jobs or money work, especially for us regula
r working class Americans.

  And I was about to rush out of the RV and slam the door.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, moving towards him and putting my arms around him to hug him. I pull him close, and his strong arms envelop me and hold me even closer.

  “I don’t understand what happened,” he says. “I was just trying to figure out a solution.”

  “I appreciate that,” I say. “But…I mean I really can’t just quit my job. And no, you can’t pay me to quit it. That’s not going to work either. I wasn’t raised to act like that, to take money like that.”

  He nods silently.

  “Maybe we’ll figure something out,” I say. “I’m sorry you have to leave the country just because of some silly press scandal.”

  “Well,” he says. “It’s the last in a long string of press scandals. I shouldn’t be surprised, really. I haven’t always made the best decisions, let alone the most responsible ones.”

  11.

  Luke

  Shit, I really want her to come back with me. I should have known this American tour was going to come to an end.

  I excuse myself to head up front with Eugene. Rebecca stay sin the back, staring out the window, and looking pensive in the way only a beautiful American girl can.

  Eugene gives me the run down. Well, it’s not quite as bad as I’d thought. But that only means it’s not an official extradition, but rather a request for one. That’s basically the same thing, without the legal stigma attached. It means that in the future, I can come back to the States, provided I wait about a year for things to cool down with my name.

  The press is full of stories about me, with dramatic looking pictures of my fight with Sebastian, the bikini party girls cheering him on.

  “Doesn’t look good, does it?” I say.

  “No, sir,” says Eugene.

  We’re still taking in English, which, strangely actually now feels more natural than speaking Liserian French, although I did slip into it just a few minutes ago.

  “What am I going to do about Rebecca, Eugene?” I say. “I can’t leave her here.”

  “You really seem to have strong feelings for her,” says Eugene.

  “Fuck yeah,” I say.

  “Nice Americanism, sir,” says Eugene.

  “Stop trying to kiss my ass and tell me what to do, man,” I say.

  But silently I’m congratulating myself on my use of slang. Did you hear the way I just used “man” so easily? I sure did.

  “I’m just… surprised, sir,” says Eugene.

  “Why?”

  “I’ve never seen you get so attached to a woman before.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I wouldn’t say attached, but... it’s just that I’m always thinking about her. Every minute. I was thinking about her all last night when I wasn’t with her. No, I wouldn’t say attached though.”

  Eugene smiles at me.

  “You sound just like me when I first met my wife.”

  He’s married? Shit, I didn’t even know that.

  “Really?” I say.

  For some reason, this makes me feel a little nervous. I didn’t say I wanted to marry her, after all. I just said I think about her all the time and want to take her back to Liseria with me. I still barely know her. But fuck is she sexy. An image of her naked body flashes in my mind’s eye for a moment, distracting me.

  “Well, if you’re really intent on bringing her to Liseria, what’s the problem?”

  “She says she can’t leave her job.”

  “Ah,” says Eugene. “I know the feeling.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Suddenly, Eugene looks incredibly flustered. “I didn’t mean, that, sir, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  I feel like I’m seeing a more human side to Eugene for the first time in a long while, perhaps ever. “No, I’m curious Eugene, what did you mean?”

  He’s blushing, his face a shade of crimson.

  “Well, sir,” he says, choosing his words carefully, speaking slowly. “I mean I love the job, but I do have a wife and kid back in Liseria, and I barely even get to talk to them when we’re on the road in these rural areas without much phone reception.”

  He has a kid? Wow, I don’t know much about Eugene at all.

  “That sounds tough, Eugene,” I say.

  He looks surprised. No, he looks shocked. I guess I don’t say very encouraging things to him most of the time.

  “Well,” says Eugene, finally, after a long pause. “I have an idea. What if we got her an official royal letter of invitation, with the intent being to excuse her from her normal duties at her job?”

  “Like a formal palace decree?”

  He nods.

  “But that only works in Liseria. We don’t have any sway in the government here.”

  “That’s true, but, still, people here in the States, as you have, um, seen first hand, have a great respect and fascination with royal families from abroad. I think that if we word it right and put the seal and everything on it, it has a good chance of working.”

  “I think you might be right,” I say, beaming at him. “Eugene, you’re a genius.”

  He blushes again. “It’s just standard…” he mumbles the last word so I can’t hear it.

  “Well, this is a great fucking plan, Eugene. Hey, you mind if I head to the back for a couple minutes. I’ve got some…um...business to take care of.”

  Eugene blushes again and I head to the back.

  “Good news,” I say. I explain the plan to her and she looks hesitant at first, but finally agrees, saying that it will probably work.

  “Wow,” she says. “I can’t believe I’m going to be going to Liseria. This is great…Wait until I tell my parents.”

  “Will they be excited?”

  “They’ll probably be more worried than anything. But my mom will love the part about the royal family. She’s always following all of them in the news.”

  “Then don’t tell her about me. She’s sure to know all sorts of dirt on me that I don’t want you knowing.”

  “Yeah? Like what kind of stuff.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Oh, you know, just the usual. Nothing too serious.”

  “Sure,” she says, laughing, and coming over to kiss me.

  It happens fast this time. We can’t keep our hands off each other, no matter what the situation. In a moment, she’s kneeling before me, and unbuckling my belt, unzipping my pants.

  My erection springs out and almost smacks her in the face, but she dodges it just in time.

  She laughs. “It’s like it’s spring loaded or something,” she says.

  “Yeah, but you’re the spring,” I say.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know. Just trying to use another Americanism, I guess.”

  “Well that’s certainly not one of them,” she says.

  “Well, like you said my brain’s all in my cock.”

  She laughs again. “I think you mean your bloods all the way in there.”

  But I can’t keep up the conversation any more, because she takes my cock between her soft plump lips and begins sucking, bobbing her beautiful head up and down along my thick shaft.

  Soon, I’m pumping my hips and thrusting into her mouth. She’s pursing her lips, making the opening incredibly tight. I feel like I’m going to burst already after just a minute, like I’m going to come incredibly soon. But, no…I can’t come just yet.

  I have to taste her on my own lips. I push her down gently, onto the mattress. Unfortunately, I have to sweep a bunch of beer bongs off of it, and to my horror there are some used condoms that Sebastian undoubtedly left—what an irresponsible asshole, not even cleaning up his own mess like that.

  Fortunately, she’s either too turned on to notice, or chooses not to see this particular mess right now.

  She’s certainly excited. I love the way she starts breathing deeply and quickly. She’s on her ba
ck, having just pulled off all her clothes. I’m doing the same, but keeping my gaze fixed on her.

  Honestly, Rebecca looks like a pin up girl lying on her back. Hotter than any pin up girl ever though. And not only that, but she’s wet and excited just for me. She’s desperately waiting for me to go down on her, to lick her sweet and delicate pleasure center.

  My erection is swelling even further still, and I’m aware that my own breath is going kind of ragged as I stare down at her.

  I kneel down on the bed, so that I can begin licking her breasts. I just want to taste her entire body, and I work my way slowly down from kissing her neck, to her breasts again. I suck on her nipples, puling them up and into my mouth, biting them gently.

  My hands are running down along her thighs ever so slowly but with plenty of pleasure. Her skin is soft and gentle, incredibly smooth, incredibly warm and inviting.

  My mouth is down by her belly button, and I’m licking every inch of her with my rough tongue. Finally, I get to her thighs, and I’m inches away from her pussy, but she’s already moaning softly, her eyes closed in ecstasy, her back arching, causing her breasts to point even further upward. I love their compact size, their shape that’s just perfect for me. It seems like her body has been made just for me. Just for fucking me and my royal cock.

  My tongue just barely reaches her lips, just barely making contact with the very outer point, and it sends her completely over the edge, making her moans turn to screams.

  “Oh yes,” she cries. “Fuck yes. Eat me out. Fuck”

  I change the pace according to her wishes, and swiftly run my tongue along her entire pussy, up to her clit. The moistness tastes perfect. She smells amazing, and my nose is now almost buried in her. She smells better than flowers on a spring morning. She’s like a wild animal who needs me—needs me to give her the pleasure she needs and requires.

  I don’t use my hand, but rely solely on my tongue. Fortunately, I know exactly what I’m doing. I modify my technique a little, as if I’m playing a jazz solo, riffing off the same basic chords that have always worked for me, always gotten applause, you could say.

  Finally, she’s moaning uncontrollably, thrashing her body around, her hips gripping me tightly around my head like a vice. I love being trapped like this, with my only option being to continue to lick her clit until she orgasms. I alternate between broad strokes and piercing strokes with my tongue, a spear of pleasure, but finally I settle on just fucking licking her clit as fast I can.