His Royal Secret

by C. T. Sloan

  “Let’s go look at the surf!” the Prince suggests. Anything for His Highness!

  We get out and just sit on the hood of the $200,000 car watching the surfers attack the high tide. The sun begins to set. We put our arms around each other and enjoy the perfect ocean breeze.

  Prince Julian strokes my hair. I run my hands down his strong back. As the afternoon turns into early evening, we begin to kiss right there on the hood of the Bentley. I feel his hands slowly slide over my breasts. I have to say, getting felt up on the hood of a such a nice car isn’t such a bad way to begin a date!

  Things begin to get hot and heavy really quick. Prince Julian runs his hands up inside my shirt and begins to fondle me. I grab the hard bulge over his jeans. I give that hard, Royal cock a nice squeeze.

  “Let’s get inside the car,” the Prince whispers into my ear. Oh fuck! We’re going to do it right on the side of the highway! We jump into the back seat, which is much bigger than I expected for a coupe.

  The Prince pulls down my skirt while I pull off my blouse. I proceed to yank off the Prince’s shirt while he unzips his jeans. The hot royal unhooks my bra and pushes me onto my back. He begins to suck and lick my breasts like a horny teen on prom night.

  Before it know it we are fucking in the back seat of this Bentley Coupe. The windows start to fog up. The Prince begins to fuck me so hard, my face presses against the fogged out window. I moan and scream as I am plowed without mercy.

  We get out of the car and use the cool ocean breeze as a way to lower our temperatures down from the impromptu car romp. We put our arms around each other as we look out at the early evening sky.

  “So where do you live?” the Prince asks me.

  “I live on Venice Beach.”

  “I have never been there. I hear it is an exciting place.”

  “Well, that is one way to describe it.”

  “Let’s go.”

  We get back into the Bentley and head down to my part of LA. This is so weird. The Prince and I feel like boyfriend and girlfriend. Prince Julian speeds the Bentley through Santa Monica and into Venice. I guide him down the alleyways leading to my apartment building.

  “So you live around here.”

  “I share a place with a roommate.”

  “Can I see it?” the Prince asks me.

  “Are you kidding?” I ask.

  “No. It would be nice to see your place.”

  Well, this is unexpected. I guide the Prince to my place. The Royal parks his Bentley in the alleyway next to a sleeping homeless guy. We get out and head up the stairs. I am sure this is the first time a member of Royalty has been inside my rent controlled apartment.

  I open the door. Thankfully, my roommate isn’t home. That would be hard to explain. The first thing that hits me is the usual smell of marijuana and unwashed clothing. I am really fucking embarrassed right now. All I can do is smile and hope that the Prince is not too turned off by my crappy apartment.

  “This isn’t so bad. We have many apartments in my Principality that are smaller in size,” the Prince explains while he walks around the living room. For a guy worth well over a billion dollars, the Prince seems rather at home in this 650 square foot apartment.

  “It is probably a step down from what you are used to,” I say.

  “Yes. But it has its own charm. You are close to the beach,” the Prince tells me as he tries to look on the bright side of having a rental place in the homeless capital of the Western world.

  “Can I get you something to drink, Your Highness?” I ask as I walk over to the fridge.

  “Do you happen to have any red wine?”

  I open the fridge door and see half a bottle of flavored water that belongs to my roommate.

  “I’m sorry, Prince Julian. I don’t have any wine.”

  “Is there a wine merchant in the area?”

  “Well, um, there is a liquor store one block away,” I blurt out. Damn, I wish I could take those words back. That answer sounded so tacky.

  “Wonderful. Let’s take a walk around and grab a nice bottle of red wine.”

  We leave the apartment and walk down the stairs. I can’t believe I am walking through a Venice Beach alleyway with the Prince of Mondorra! I usually don’t like to walk around this neighborhood at night. There has been a spike in crimes since the economy has gone down and these alleyways are not a safe place for a single gal.

  We cross Ocean Boulevard and head into the Venice Beach Liquor Store. The Prince walks into the dingy liquor shop with a sense of awe and curiosity. We see a homeless guy shopping for his bum wine. The Prince pulls a couple of hundred dollar bills out of his pocket and hands them to the homeless wino.

  “Oh Jesus Christ. You are an angel!” the bum says as he wraps his arms around the Prince. I see tears flowing down the homeless man’s face. All I can say is that this Prince is just getting sexier and sexier by the minute.

  Prince Julian shakes the homeless man’s hand and tells him to have a “fun evening” with the money. The homeless man begins to fill his arms with three dollar bottles of fortified wine. It looks like the homeless guy is following the Prince’s orders to the letter.

  I look at the red wine section. The most expensive offerings cost about $80. I’m sure the eighty dollar wine is excellent but it is certainly the cheapest bottle the Prince has seen in a while.

  “How is this, Prince Julian?”

  The Prince reads the label. “This will do.”

  We go to the front counter. The Prince pays for the wine and we walk out. As we cross the street, I notice two guys looking at us. My intuition tells me that these guys are up to no good.

  Prince Julian and myself quickly head down the alley. I look back and see the same two guys following us. “Fuck,” I say.

  “Is there something wrong, Amy?”

  “I believe we are being followed.”

  The Prince instantly stops and turns around. What the fuck is he doing? I almost want to grab the Prince and tell him to run.

  “Can I help you?” the Prince asks the men.

  One of the men laughs. “What kind of faggot accent is that?” the scraggly looking guy asks. I look at them more closely. They have neck tattoos and bad skin. And they have that predatory look to them. My heart begins to pump against my chest. This is not good.

  The Prince doesn’t move an inch.

  “I said what kind of faggot accent is that?!” the same man asks again.

  “I am from Mondorra,” the Prince says to the men in a calm and relaxed manner.

  “What kind of piece of shit country is that?” the other man taunts.

  “I beg your pardon?” the Prince asks in a tone that scares me.

  The two men laugh and begin to mock the Prince. “Listen to this fucking homo’s accent.”

  Prince Julian hands me the bottle of wine. Then he looks at the two men and says, “I don’t mind you mocking my accent. However, you will not disparage the Principality of Mondorra.”

  “Oh shit. Are you fucking telling me what I can fucking say?!” one of the men says as he bumps chests with the Prince.

  “Yes. And I am giving you one last opportunity to correct yourself,” the Prince says.

  The first man throws a punch at the Prince. The royal stud easily avoids his attacker and executes a karate chop on the side of the man’s neck, sending him straight down to the ground.

  The second man pulls out a switchblade and rushes the Prince. He swings his blade at Prince Julian and misses. The Prince puts the second man into a choke hold.

  “I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe!” the thug pleads.

  “You can breathe because you have enough airflow to talk,” the Prince explains. Then the royal stud chokes the man harder until his face turns blue. “Now you can’t breathe,” the Prince exclaims.

  The second attacker drops to the ground. He begins to cough up blood.

  Prince Julian calmly takes me and retrieves the bottle of wine.

  “Are you okay,
Prince Julian?” I ask.

  “Yes. This has been an exciting trip to Venice Beach,” the royal stud says as he calmly walks down the alley with me in tow. Wow. Just wow. The Prince is finding new ways to make me wet!

  While Prince Julian seems to be calm, cool and collected, my blood is pumping through every inch of my body. I am sexually and aggressively amped up. I do something that I thought I would never do in a million years. I grab the Prince and push him up against the wall. I pull up his shirt and just admire his strong and sleek body. I run my hands up and down his sculpted chest and abdominal muscles.

  I start to lick every inch of that chest. I unbuckle the Prince’s belt and pull down his jeans. Then I yank down those boxers. I can tell right away that the Prince is pleased with my actions. I grab that royal cock and begin to stroke it. Then I take that big dick and start to gently lick the tip. I can tell right away that Prince Julian is enjoying the moment.

  I slowly slide my mouth down that cock until the Prince begins to moan. Then I grab that perfect ass of his and start to give the Prince the best blowjob of his life. Prince Julian grabs my head and holds on for dear life.

  “Oh Amy! Oh Amy!” Prince Julian moans as I deep throat his Royal Highness. The royal stud takes control right away. He grabs me and forces me onto my feet. The Prince strips off all of my clothes. I am standing there naked in the alley. The Prince turns me around and forces me to “assume the position.”

  I feel the strong hands off the Prince move over my hips, my ass, my stomach and my tits. I purr my approval as I feel the royal hottie slowly dry hump my right butt cheek. Prince Julian kisses my neck and whispers into my ear, “I must have your body right here and right now.”

  The Prince puts me in a choke hold and starts to fuck me nice and hard. I can breathe. Barely. I struggle to moan out my approval as the Prince begins to really show his rough side. I could easily say that this is the craziest fuck I’ve ever experienced.

  It’s really starting to get hard to breathe. I fall on my hands and knees. The Prince pushes my head down on the alley ground as he continues to pound me from behind. I can hear police sirens blasting down Ocean Boulevard. I can hear LAPD helicopters above. It’s just another night on Venice Beach.

  “Ah! Ah!” the Prince grunts as he rails me at full speed. I can feel every inch of that Royal stud. My body explodes in excitement. I scream like I am being murdered. Prince Julian’s orgasm sounds downright animalistic.

  We struggle to catch our breath. As we try to recover from our alleyway humpfest, we can feel the spotlight of the police helicopter passing across our naked bodies. We quickly get dressed and scamper back to my apartment.

  Prince Julian can not stop laughing. The craziness seems to have no end. When we reach the stairs to my apartment, we realize that neither of us had bothered to bring back the wine.

  “All that for nothing!” I blurt out.

  “Oh I think we both got a little something from that trip.”

  Indeed!

  We go back inside the apartment. After a quick search through the cabinets, I find a couple of bottles of Snapple Ice Tea. I get some ice from the freezer and we cool off with our refreshing yet non-alcoholic drinks. It doesn’t matter. We sit on the ratty sofa and enjoy each other’s company.

  “I’m sorry that my accommodations are so disappointing, Your Highness,” I tell the Prince.

  “I’m only interested in the cute girl sitting next to me in this apartment.”

  Damn, this guy knows exactly what to say.

  The Prince looks at me for a good long minute. He doesn’t say anything. He just looks at me. Then he takes a good long gander at the apartment. “You have been kind enough to show me your place. Maybe I should return the favor?”

  “Oh, I have seen your lovely hotel accommodations, Prince Julian.”

  “That’s not exactly what I am talking about,” the Prince says.

  My eyes open wide. Then the Prince grabs me and says, “I haven’t had this much fun with a girl in ages. I don’t want this to end. Come with me to Mondorra. You haven’t see me at my best.”

  I don’t even know what to say. My jaw drops. I just stare at the Prince like a dummy. After a few long seconds, I meekly respond, “It would be an honor.”

  “Excellent. Let’s get some sleep and we’ll jet off tomorrow at noon.”

  We hop into my bed. The Prince has no problem falling asleep. The same can’t be said for me. I stare at the ceiling. I listen to the police and ambulance sirens. I listen to the bums fighting just outside my bedroom window. My world is spinning.

  ***

  I wake up to the smell of fresh-baked croissants. I open my eyes and see the Prince serving me a little breakfast in bed.

  “I found a little bakery down the street. Just thought this would be a nice way to fill up our stomachs before we get on the plane,” Prince Julian tells me as he places a plate of fruit, cereal and bread in front of me.

  I don’t say anything. I just give him a kiss.

  My entire body is shaking. I can’t even begin to digest the emotions running through my body. I am going to see the Prince’s country! I am going on his plane! I am going to Europe! And through all of this excitement, there is one emotion running through my body - fear.

  I’m scared of losing my job. I’m scared that I will disappoint the Prince once he gets to know me. I’m scared that the Prince will get bored of me and move on to someone else. Of course he will move on to someone else, he is - in the words of the media - “The World’s Most Eligible Prince.”

  Just as I am about to break out into a complete fit of panic and fear, Prince Julian puts his arm around me. All the fear disperses from every pore in my body.

  We finish our meal and jump into the shower. The two of us can’t help but play with each other’s bodies. I start to soap up Prince Julian’s incredible ass. He does the same to me. Then the royal hottie begins to rub me in between my legs. I instantly fall to the shower floor.

  The Prince dives his head over my legs and starts to eat me out like a true artist. I grab the top of his head and push his face into me. The Prince reaches up and plays with my tits. I suck on his right index finger.

  The warm water falls over our bodies as the Prince completely dominates every inch of my body. He picks me up by my hair and demands that I grab the shower head. “Yes, Your Highness,” I purr.

  The Prince enters me from behind and begins to fuck me nice and hard while he pinches my nipples. I moan louder and louder. Prince Julian covers my mouth with his right hand. I can feel myself struggling to breathe.

  I pick my legs up and push my ass out for the Prince. He grabs my hips and starts to rail me at full speed. My body begins to convulse. I scream from the top of my lungs as I cum as hard as I have ever cum in my life.

  When the Prince is done with me, my body becomes useless. I collapse onto the shower floor and curl into the fetal position. The Prince gropes me while I try to recover from his deep dicking.

  It takes me about a good ten minutes before I can make it up to my feet. I finish washing myself off and get dressed. As I put on my clothes, I realize that I’ll need to pack for the trip.

  “Just take anything sentimental and essential. You can go shopping once we arrive in Mondorra,” the Prince advises.

  Hey, I am not one to argue with shopping.

  We finish getting dressed. The Prince is on the phone with one of his assistants. He orders that all of his belongings get packed and sent to “his plane.” He also gives the assistant my address.

  “The motorcade should be here momentarily,” the Prince informs me.

  A motorcade coming into an alleyway on Venice Beach?! This will be a sight to behold.

  We walk outside and see about six Rolls-Royces packed in the alleyway in front of my apartment. The cars appear to be blocking some of the neighborhood traffic. And trust me, the neighbors are none too happy.

  The two of us get into a white Rolls-Royce Phantom. The motorcade q
uickly takes off. I turn to the Prince and ask. “Prince Julian, why do you have so many cars with you.”

  “Well, on care is for security. Three cars are for my belongings and we have another car as an emergency back-up.”

  “It sounds like you are always prepared, Your Highness.”

  “I try to travel with everything I need. You’ll see when we get to my plane.”

  Wow. His plane. I bet the Prince has one of the nicest Gulfstreams in the world.

  We get to LAX. The airport police escort the Prince’s motorcade to a special terminal. I don’t see many people around. Then I realize that this terminal is reserved for personal aircraft.