“I looked up a couple pictures. It’s quite luxurious. I certainly wouldn’t call it a bunch of old rocks.”
“A pile,” he says, correcting me in a joking way. “Now touch yourself.”
“Where?”
“You know where,” he says. “Touch your pussy. Finger yourself.”
Normally I have to work up quite a bit when I do this myself, but seeing him jacking off my computer screen—jacking off to me—it really sends me over the edge, and I slide down my pajama bottoms to find that I’m already quite wet.
We spend about five minutes just gazing at each other, the dirty talking ceasing as we’re both concentrating pretty fully on the task at hand. Neither one of us takes our eyes off the other, as we’re working away at our own bodies.
It’s pretty fucking hot.
Not like having sex with Luke, but pretty damn close.
Finally, I’m getting close, and I let out a couple soft moans. Fuck, I hope Jill can’t hear me. The walls can be pretty thin here, but hopefully she’s asleep, and anyways she normally wears earplugs.
I arch my back as I come, and I watch intently as Luke comes too, his fist working in a fury across his thick cock. Finally, he bucks his hips slightly, pushing his cock up in the air as it squirts out his seed into the air. It flies hard and fast, squirting rope after rope of his come.
“You really had quite a build up,” I say, finally relaxing after a full minute of lying exhausted in bed from the orgasm.
“Just the usual,” he says.
“So they’re going to send the details about the pickup?” I say. “Everything still good about me coming over?”
“Yeah, how did your boss react?”
“She loved it,” I say, laughing. “You wouldn’t have believed the reaction.”
“I might,” he says, somewhat grimly. “People can get really weird over this royal stuff. I mean, I’m just a guy after all.”
“A guy who jacks off in a big pile of old rocks,” I say, laughing.
Luke laughs too.
“Yeah,” he says.” My dad’s kind of pissed about…well, about my behavior I guess. And there’s like this ball coming up.”
“Oh, cool,” I say. “I’ve never been to a royal Liserian ball before.”
“Why would you have?” says Luke, seeming confused, before realizing it was a joke. “Oh,” he says. “That famous American sarcasm again.”
“More like a joke,” I say. “It wasn’t that sarcastic.”
“I can just never tell with you Americans,” he says. “But there’s a little problem, he wants me to take some Liserian chick named Belinda to the ball.”
I’m silent for a moment. I don’t like the sound of this.
“So you’re already going around with other women?”
“No,” he says, a little too emphatically. “I don’t want to have anything to do with her. I mean, fuck it, I’m just not going to go. You and I can sneak off somewhere more fun.”
“Oh,” I say. “Well I thought it might be fun to go.”
“Oh,” he says. “Well, maybe we can work something out when you get here. Eugene’s going to send over all the stuff to your email tomorrow first thing. So I’ll see you Wednesday, right?”
“Yup,” I say. “And that reminds me, I really need to pack.”
“Ok,” he says. “I’ll let you get too it, then. I got to get to sleep anyway. It’s the middle of the night over here.”
Instead of packing, I lie back in the darkness and think about what’s to come.
Am I really ready for the royal Liserian palace? I’m also wondering where this is all going with Luke. It doesn’t seem like it’s a brief thing for him, and I’m really starting to hope that it’s more than just us having a lot of fun.
I still feel a lot less anxious when I talk to him—like a lot less anxious, like the anxiety’s completely gone. I think that’s a good sign. He also makes me laugh like crazy. And that’s not even mentioning how fucking sexy he is.
“You still awake?” says Jill, knocking lightly at my door.
Shit, did she hear me?
I quickly close my computer and turn it away from my bed, to make it look not quite as suspicious. I pull up my pajamas and put my shirt back on and go to the door.
“What’s up?” I say, trying to keep my face neutral.
“I just wanted to see how the packing was going.”
“Oh,” I say. “You didn’t hear anything?”
“Hear anything?”
“Oh, never mind,” I say.
“What, were you having phone sex with Luke or something?”
“So you did hear!” I blush a deep red in embarrassment, probably. My face feels like it’s flushing.
“No,” I swear. “I didn’t hear anything. But you just confirmed my suspicions.” She’s laughing, and I finally start laughing too.
“Actually, it was video sex. It was pretty hot. It’s my first time doing anything like that.”
“Video sex with a Liserian prince,” she says. “Wow, really moving up in the world, Rebecca.”
I laugh, and Jill begins helping me pack my things. We figure I’m going to need at least some nice clothes, but mostly what I have is just boring office clothes and some camping clothes I bought from a sporting goods store. I might bring some of that—hopefully there’s some good camping out there, but it’s certainly nothing I can wear to a palace ball.
“I think I have something in my room,” says Jill, returning after a moment with a beautiful gown that just happens to fit me perfectly. We’re almost exactly the same size.
“Wow,” I say. “I can really borrow this?”
“Of course, Rebecca,” she says, giving me a big hug. “I’m really happy you found someone. Good luck over there, eh?”
“I just hope he doesn’t turn out to be an asshole,” I say.
“He’s already an asshole,” she says. “But maybe he’ll change for you. I mean, who wouldn’t want to change for Rebecca Reynolds?”
“I’m just a commoner,” I say.
“You’re fucking awesome, Rebecca,” she says.
The next morning she drives me to the airport, where I’m surprised to find a private jet waiting for me.
I’ve never gone through the process of getting on a private jet before, let alone a royal one, but I still have to go through the long security lines. I guess there’s no exception for royal guests.
The jet is sleek, like it’s just been waxed, or whatever they do to jets to make them look so nice. There’s the royal Liserian emblem emblazoned all over it in purple and gold.
“Miss, Reynolds?” says a stern-faced Liserian guard, in heavily-accented English.
I nod.
“Welcome aboard,” he says, saluting me.
I salute back, then realize that probably seems silly.
We hold the salute pose for a moment before I realize he’s not going to break it, so I put my arm down awkwardly, and walk up the steps to the plane.
Holy fuck—that’s my first impression. It’s absolutely nothing like flying coach, which is all I’ve ever done the handful of times I’ve actually been on a plane.
The inside is completely lined with a royal purple carpet, and instead of regular cramped airplane chairs, there are plush armchairs that are already reclined. I don’t see seatbelts anywhere—maybe they’re lost in the cushions.
This really beats first class even by a couple miles.
There’s a young woman who smiles at me, and asks if I need anything before the plane takes off.
“It’s just me on the flight?” I ask.
“Yes, can I get you anything?” she says again.
I shake my head. “I’m all good,” I say. “Thanks.”
She smiles again and returns to the cockpit area.
A moment later, the pilot himself comes back and introduces himself. This is wildly different from hearing the static-filled mumblings
over the loud speaker. He tells me his name and shakes my hand, and tells me we’ll be taking off in a couple minutes, once they get the go-ahead from the air traffic controller. He even offers to bring me a drink, which I decline.
The pilot himself offered me a drink!
Since this is way different from my normal life, I’m determined to enjoy it fully. I mean I’m not the kind of girl who’s usually overly impressed with luxury, but for once in my life I don’t see any harm in sitting back, relaxing, and letting them bring me food and drinks. I promise myself that the next time someone offers me a beverage I’m going to accept it, and not only that but request the most expensive, absurd thing I can think of. Maybe champagne!
Wow, champagne, Rebecca, I tell myself—really going over the edge, really living large. If Luke was here, he’d tell me that was an excellent example of American sarcasm.
Thinking about Luke, I must have drifted off to sleep, because the next thing I know, I’m waking up and the cabin’s completely darkened.
Immediately, the stewardess is at my side.
“Hmpm,” I mumble.
She smiles politely.
“Did I fall asleep?” I say, realizing as I say this that it’s a stupid question. Of course I was asleep.
“Yes,” she says. “We’re actually about to land. You were asleep nearly the entire flight.”
“I guess it’s these comfortable chairs,” I say. Well, that and I was up half the night with Jill packing and trying on clothing to bring with me.
“We’ll be landing shortly,” she says, before retiring to the front cabin. Not a word about fastening seat belts and raising tray tables. I guess this is what you get flying the royal airlines—not bad, I always hated all that junk from the loud speaker that ruined the movies I was watching.
I look down, and realize I’ve got to change. I grab my bag and head to the bathroom. Wow, it’s nicer then the bathrooms at the nicest hotels.
I don’t want to show up to the palace wearing leggings, so I throw on a dress Jill helped me pick out. It does look decidedly American, but perhaps still appropriate for a palace.
The landing is unusually smooth—either the pilot is very skilled, or there’s something special about the plane. I’m going to go with both guesses.
The stewardess and pilot both help me off the plane, and the there’s a line of strangely-dressed Liserian soldiers in a line saluting me as I walk past.
Eugene’s here to greet me, it seems, but despite spinning my head around at all angles, I can’t see Luke anywhere.
“So good to see you, Miss Rebecca,” says Eugene, extending his hand for me to shake.
I give him a big hug instead, and he looks a little embarrassed.
“So Luke couldn’t make it?”
Eugene clasps his hands together in a way that makes me worried. “I’m afraid he had another engagement,” he says. “But he sends his warm regards.”
Sheesh, I don’t think I’ve ever gotten warm regards from Luke before, unless that’s a code word for his dick or something.
Eugene laughs, as if I’ve just told a joke, and for a split second I wonder if he’s telepathic and heard what was going on in my head.
Eugene leads me to a sleek limousine parked just fifty feet from the plane.
“What about customs?” I say.
Eugene laughs again. “I’m customs,” he says. “In this case, at least. Would you like some wine?”
“Everybody seems to be trying to get me drunk,” I say. “Ever since I got on the plane.”
He doesn’t catch the joke, and seems to take it very seriously. “It’s just a normal Liserian custom,” he says.
The weather’s colder than I had expected, and now I wish I wore something a little warmer. It feels like it’s in the low 60s, and for the first time I take a moment to really look around. I wish we’d arrived during the daytime, to get a better look at the surroundings, since I can see immense mountain ranges all around me. It’s a good thing I brought my hiking gear, because with mountains like those, there’s no way in hell I’m staying inside some place the whole trip.
“So Luke’s still in trouble with his dad?” I say, sitting opposite Eugene in the limousine.
He laughs, and explains that here in Liseria Luke’s dad is strictly referred to as the King.
“No problem,” I say. “But you still didn’t answer my question.”
“Well, yes, in a manner of speaking. Luke’s behavior has a way of becoming, well, publicized widely, shall we say.”
“I’ve read the articles, Eugene,” I say. “No need to beat around the bush with me.”
Eugene nods.
15.
Luke
This is the most boring shit I’ve ever sat through. We’re in one of the conference rooms, with my father at the hat, wearing his ridiculous crown, and glaring at all his advisors, who are reading through thick stacks of papers.
I’m checking my watch.
“Do you need to be somewhere, son?” says my father.
“Actually, yeah, I was going to meet my friend who we’re flying in from the states.”
“That can wait,” he says, and returns to looking at his papers.
The voices drone on and ne.
“Actually,” I say. “She’s an official royal guest. She has the initiation and we even flew her over on one of the royal jets. It wouldn’t look good if no one’s there to greet her.”
“But you sent Eugene, didn’t you?”
I nod.
“Every guest doesn’t need a personal member of the royal family to greet them,” says my father, sternly.
“I can’t take this anymore,” I say, in English, just to annoy my father.
“English will not be spoken!”
“Whatever,” I say, in English, getting up. “I’ve had enough of this.”
“Sit down right now!”
But I get up anyway, and push my chair slowly in under the conference table, taking my time, and calmly walking towards the door. I know my father’s not going to risk some kind of family scene in front of all these advisors. He has to maintain a strong image after all.
“Fine,” he says, trying to save face. “Maybe it’d be better if you do meet her. You’re not doing us any good here, anyway.”
My face is boiling with rage when he says that, but I force myself to walk out of the room and ignore the comment.
Fuck, I can’t wait to see Rebecca. She looked so fucking hot on the computer screen. It’s been driving me crazy thinking about her all day. I can’t wait again to feel her body against mine, not to mention have her mouth gather around my cock…
I grab my cell phone from my pocket and dial Eugene.
“What’s the word?” I say, in English. I want to keep up my English use so I don’t forget it. I want it to sound fresh to Rebecca.
“We’ve just arrived, and we’re headed in to the West Gate right now.”
I hang up the phone and start jogging through the palace.
Shit, all this old stuff in the palace really gets me down. The whole palace is so fucking depressing. There’s barely any light that gets in, and along the walls there are all these old weapons from the middle ages, and dark pictures of my ancestors. As far as I can figure out, all they ever did was exploit the poor and enrich themselves. I’ve studied Liserian history as much as anyone else, and I’ve never read a single good thing they did, unless you count keeping their kingdom small enough that it wasn’t enticing for other countries to invade.
I’m jogging now towards the gate and I see her coming up, with Eugene carrying one of her small bags. But she’s carrying her own trusty large camping wilderness backpack. Fuck, I like that she’s carrying it herself, and it contrasts perfectly with the thin sexy dress she’s wearing. Perhaps a little cold for Liseria right now, but shit I don’t care.
Her hair is cascading around her breasts, I’m trying to see if I can catch some erect nippl
es poking through the fabric. The dress swishes around her thighs and doesn’t end until her ankles—royal proper, for sure, but also fucking sexy.
She’s running as fast as she can towards me, with the big backpack slowing her down only a little, a huge fucking smile lighting up her face. Her eyes are the fucking sexiest thing about her right now.
We collide and fall into an embrace. I’m kissing her, and pushing her hair back behind her head, one hand on her skull, holding her close to me. My other hand instinctively starts working along her body, and she’s kissing me back as hard as she can. We’re both already breathless, and our breathing seems to fall into that breathless sexual excitement phase for a moment as we continue to make out.
Eugene coughs, and we keep going until he coughs again. “We’d better install Miss Rebecca in her room.”
“Oh,” she says, sounding disappointed, as she pulls away from me a little and re-shoulders her massive backpack. “I thought I’d be staying in your room, Luke.”
I give her a wink. “Royal policy, typical bullshit,” I say. “But there’s no reason we can’t sneak out for some sleepovers.”
“Plenty of sleepovers, I hope,” she says, winking back at me.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” says Eugene, but giving us a smile all the same.
“You’re not too bad, you know that, Eugene,” I say, clapping him heartily on the back.
I convince Rebecca to let me take her backpack, and fuck is it heavy. “What you got in here?” I say to her.
“Just the regular stuff. And some camping gear, I suppose. I thought maybe we could do some Liserian camping.”
“Sounds great,” I say. “There’s plenty of woods. I can take you out for a tour of the grounds first thing tomorrow.” It’s already 11pm, and right now all I can think about is getting deep inside Rebecca. I don’t want to complicate that with trying to show her the grounds in the dark, although now that I think about it that might be a fun little romp for the two of us, out in the woods. But my cock’s already hard and aching. I need her very soon—no time left for messing around pretending we’re going out for a walk. Who’s going to believe that I’m showing her the grounds in the pitch-black darkness, anyway?
Filthy Royal Page 10
