Filthy Royal

by Roxeanne Rolling

  In fact, my anxiety has almost completely gone away. It’s diminished so drastically that I have a hard time even remembering what it was like going through life constantly scared of anything. Sure, I still have the normal jitters before a flight, or before a Liserian ball or political event, but these are just the normal kind of jitters that everyone in the world gets—there’s nothing out of the ordinary with me or my anxiety now. It’s amazing that one man can change me so much. Of course, it’s not just him, but the relationship we’ve forged together, making me feel more secure about myself and my place in the world.

  We’re making out, and our hands are all over each other.

  “We haven’t set up the tent yet,” says Luke. “And the sleeping pads are still packed away in the bags.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” I say, breathing heavy. “I want you to take me here in front of the fire, on the ground.”

  “Very American of you,” says Luke, laughing, and continuing to massage my breasts with his strong royal hands.

  “Not really,” I say. “I think we normally go for comfort. But this is a camping trip after all, and we’re supposed to be roughing it.”

  “Well if you insist,” says Luke. “I’m not going to argue, that’s for sure.”

  He’s kissing my neck, and I’m already breathing heavily, as is he.

  His hands are cupping my breasts. We’ve actually gotten “better,” at sex over the last couple years, and trust me, for Luke, that’s a tall order to fill, since he already really knew what he was doing. But we’ve learned how our bodies work, and we’ve gotten better at pleasing each other—they are usually small things, things I couldn’t even call adjustments, things that are hard to explain. These things have more to do with attitude rather than positioning or what’s traditionally called sex “technique.”

  “I want you so much,” growls Luke in my ear, before nibbling on the bottom of my ear lobe, and now moving on to kissing my neck, right below my chin, which he knows drives me crazy.

  I’ve got his cock in his hands, having unbuckled his jeans (which I told him were bad to hike and camp in, but he was insistent for some reason, not that I can complain, since he look so fucking hot in regular blue jeans, and I have to admit I love the feeling and sound of unbuckling them and unzipping them) and his cock springs out, fully ready and fully at attention.

  Luke positions himself off to my side, so that I can sink my mouth around his cock, my titling my head. He’s kneeling on the dirt, and his cock is inches away from my lips. The fire is sprinkling light on us, now that the sun has finally set. The only light is from this fire. This time we’re lucky with the weather and it feels more like the cool autumn evenings that I’m used to back in Pennsylvania. The warmth of the fire is welcome, now that we’re getting naked. But honestly I’m sure we’d both fuck out in the open even if it was down to 50 degrees Fahrenheit. That’s how much we’re still hot for each other.

  Luke bucks his hips slightly, and his cock bumps against my lips. I bob my head down and take him in his mouth. He groans. “That feels so good, Rebecca,” he says, moaning softly, which always drives me over the edge of waiting to full action. I can’t resist any more, and I take his cock fully in my mouth.

  “I don’t want to come in your mouth,” he says, finally, after a couple minutes of this, while he’s meanwhile running his hands up and down my body, concentrating especially on my breasts and my nipples. I love it when he cups one breast in one hand, and uses his other hand to play with both nipples at the same time. My nipples are always so hard with Luke that they feel like they could cut glass.

  “I want to taste you,” says Luke, kissing me on the mouth, but I know that he doesn’t mean he wants to taste my mouth.

  He’s sliding my pants down around my ankles, and finally pulling them off with one complete motion.

  He’s running his tongue in broad strokes across my wet pussy, and using one finger inside to do all kinds of things that drive me crazy, moving it in just the ways that he knows I love and drive me over the edge.

  “I’m coming,” I manage to say, between heaving breathing and intense moans. It doesn’t even take Luke long to make me come now by licking me. He knows exactly when to stat playing with my clit, and exactly how much pressure to use. He also knows that I love it when he licks my inner thighs and caresses me above my knees with his very strong and very manly hands.

  “I want you inside me,” I say, just after the vision-blurring orgasm is starting to die down.

  He doesn’t need to be told twice.

  “I want to be cavalier,” he says.

  “What?”

  “I want to be on my back so that you don’t get scratched up,” he says.

  I start laughing. “I think the word you’re looking for is chivalrous,” I say. “Cavalier means you don’t care at all.”

  He laughs.

  “I’d be fine with getting bruises on my back or getting it scratched up,” I say. “As long as I get to be fucked by you, by my very own, the one and only Liserian Prince Lucas.”

  He laughs. “Let’s try it with you on top first,” he says.

  I get on top of him, straddling him, and I let out a tremendous moan as I sink down on top of his massive thick cock. It fills me up completely, and nothing in the world has ever felt any better.

  I don’t even tease him, but just sink myself down along his glorious cock.

  We don’t last long, and we both come together as we often do.

  “Aren’t you glad we don’t have to use those royal condoms anymore?” I say, as I get down off of him and lie down along his side. We’re both naked in the light, but the warmth of the fire keeps us warm, along with the body heat from one another.

  “They weren’t royal condoms,” says Luke, chuckling. “They were just a regular brand I picked up from the drug store.”

  “I know,” I say. “But I call them royal condoms because you were so worried about me coming after the royal money by having a kid with you.”

  “I know I don’t have to worry about that with you,” he says. “Plus, you’re on the pill.”

  “But maybe I’m just playing my cards close to my chest, and waiting until you’re fooled until tranquility.”

  He laughs. “I’ll take my chances with that,” he says. “Plus, wouldn’t it be nice to have a kid someday?”

  I nod. “I think so,” I say. “I used to actually think that I never wanted to have kids, but I’m starting to have my doubts. Maybe we’d make good parents. We could take them all over the place. And they could grow up knowing a bunch of languages just like you, Luke.”

  “You’re no slouch either,” says Luke. “You’re French is just as good as mine now, and you’re getting really good at Italian, too.”

  We spent a couple months last year in Italy, because Luke was working on a diplomatic project, opening up the lines of communication between Liseria and Italy for the first time in over a century.

  “Did your back get scratched up really badly, honey?” I say, pretending that I’m going to flip him over just to check.

  “I think I’m OK,” says Luke. “Nothing as bad as that snake bite you got here two years ago.”

  I laugh. “Wasn’t that crazy? I really needed a prince to come and save me. I was so worried. I remember I was pretty convinced I was going to die if I didn’t get to a hospital.”

  “If it hadn’t been for that snake, maybe we never would have met,” says Luke.

  “Yeah,” I say. “I guess we should have made it best man at the wedding or something.”

  “That would have gone over really well with my parents,” says Luke, and I laugh.

  His parents weren’t thrilled, initially, about having the wedding in a backyard. They didn’t consider it up to their normal royal standards, but after a few drinks there, they eventually came around to the idea, and ended up saying how nice it was not to have all the normal glitz and glamor, not to mention the papara
zzi.

  “That snake was sort of like the snake in the garden of Eden,” I say. “Isn’t he the one who introduced Adam to Eve?”

  “That was God, I think,” says Luke. “I think the snake convinced her to eat the apple,” he says.

  “Oh yeah,” I say, laughing. “I guess your cock is the apple of original sin,” I say.

  Luke laughs, and we fall asleep cuddling in front of the open fire, completely naked, but not too cold to sleep.

  28.

  Luke

  We’re hiking out of the Texas campsite, totally exhausted. The sun is hot today and beating down. Fortunately we’re well rested, and well fed, not to mention sexually satisfied, which is all good considering the huge packs that we’re hoisting on our backs.

  “What’s going on over there?” says Rebecca. “Some kind of traveling music festival or something?”

  She points down the long Texas road to where I can see a huge convoy of cars, SUVs, and vans. A couple of the vans have the big satellite dishes on top, and I instantly recognize them as the paparazzi.

  “That’s the paparazzi,” I say.

  “Shit,” she says. “Should we run and hide?”

  We haven’t had many huge run in’s with the paparazzi since we got married. Actually, so far the official press releases are the only information the press had to go one. We managed to keep the wedding under wraps enough that no one knew what was happening until we registered our marriage with the Liserian government.

  “No,” I say, feeling confident now about facing the press. “Let them come. We’re going to keep walking, though. We’ve got to get to that bus stop by one o’clock, right?”

  Rebecca nods. “Are you sure, though? We don’t look exactly royal right now.”

  It’s true. We’re mud splatted and our clothes are torn. We’ve been camping out now for over three weeks, and we haven’t had more than a couple showers in all that time.

  “No,” I say. “Let them come and see us how we are. I want them to see how happy we are now. I’m not the boy I once was. I’m now a man. Now I’m a real prince, and this is what a real prince looks like.”

  The vans and SUVs and cars rush up around us. Some of them park in front of us, trying to block our path.

  “Come on,” I say, to Rebecca, and I guide her right through the cars, weaving in and out of their bumpers, trying to ignore the huge flashes and video cameras and the boom mics that are shoved in our faces.

  Finally, a gaggle of the reporters realize we’re going to keep walking, so they rush up to us and shove their little microphones and journalists pads at us, and demand answers to their questions.

  “Yes,” I say. “We’re on a camping trip of the United Sates. This is where we met two years ago.”

  “Isn’t this the site of one of your most widely publicized fights?”

  “Yes,” I say. “That’s true, but I don’t do that kind of stuff any more. I’m a new man. Rebecca’s helped me out with that.” And it’s true. I’m not just feeding the press a line. This is how I really feel, and not only that but I’m glad that I feel like this. I guess without realizing it, I was searching for something in all those wasted years partying, and I was searching for Rebecca. Now that I have her, maybe those years weren’t a waste though, since there’s no one else on the whole planet who could do what she does for me.

  “He’s changed a lot,” says Rebecca, chiming in, and giggling as she says it. “But, he was there all along, and that’s why I stuck with him. He saved me here from a poisonous snake two years ago while he was still partying. But that didn’t get into the papers. Only his fight did.”

  “And what have you been doing for work, now that you’ve abandoned your party boy lifestyle?” says one reporter.

  “I’ve been working with various non profit organizations,” I say, which is the truth. “I want to help the people of Liseria. I’ve decided to use my title of prince for something other than just having a great time myself.”

  “Not to mention sleeping with every woman he could,” says Rebecca, smiling, happy that she got one in.

  I groan. That one’s definitely going in the paper.

  “But there’s only one woman for me now,” I say. “And that’s Rebecca.”

  “And what kind of work are you doing?” says another reporter.

  “Like I said,” I say. “I’m involved with various non-profit organizations. And Rebecca and I are working on starting our own non-profit. We’re interviewing people for the position when we get back to Liseria. We want to discourage drug and alcohol use among young people. We’re going to show them that there are other things to do to have fun. Rebecca’s always been really into the outdoors, and I’m very thankful that she’s opened up that part of my life for me. So we’re going to work on getting the Liserian youth outdoors, because Liseria has a huge swath of vast and untouched natural beauty just waiting for people to enjoy. And Rebecca’s going to be working on getting a better relationship between Liseria and America, encouraging trips for people of Liseria and French descent to visit Liseria. Liseria has been basically a small and isolated country for too long, and it’s time to open it up to the world. The world has a lot to offer to Liseria, and Liseria has a lot to offer to the world.”

  “And what do you think about…”

  The questions are coming in, piling on top of one another. The reporters are practically fighting for the chance to shove the microphones in our faces. I can tell Rebecca’s getting overwhelmed, and so am I.

  “Come on,” I say to Rebecca. “Let’s get out of here.”

  I grab her bag off of her shoulders, and the reporters give us confused looks. I take the huge pack and put it on my stomach, facing away from me. It’s heavy, but I can do it.

  “Ready?” I say to her. “We’re going to make a run for it.”

  She smiles at me.

  “You going to show me what Liseria has to offer Americans?” she says.

  “I can offer you my cock.”

  The reporters cackle. They think they’ve finally caught me slipping up again, slipping into my old bad boy persona. I could give two shits though. They can think what they want and write what they want. It’s not important to me now, and it never really was, but now with Rebecca, what the press says about me is the least important thing in the world to me.

  “You’re royal Liserian cock,” says Rebecca, fully audible to the reporters. “My parents are going to love reading this,” she says, laughing.

  “Come on,” I say, and I take her hand and we sprint away from the reporters, our path making a right angle with the road.

  We’re running, and laughing, having the time of our lives, with both packs jangling on me, but the weight doesn’t bother me with Rebecca. We’re headed right into the woods, where we can set up a tent and be happy, just the two of us. We don’t need anything else but each other.

  THE END

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  1

  Anchor

  “Hey Anchor, check her out!” cries Dave, my best swimming bro, pointing at some chick. But that wasn’t anything new. Dave is always pointing out chicks. I don’t have to look as hard for them myself. I like to let them come to me. And, in the end, I’m the one who gets the chicks Dave points out. They can’t resist me. What can I say?

  They call me Anchor for two reasons. One: I’m the anchor on our college relay team. I’m also the captain of the team, and have been the captain since I was a sophomore, far earlier than anyone else ever has been. No matter how many beers I’ve had the night before, I always pull the team to victory, no matter how far behind we are. Two: when I’m in my swim briefs, my
package is so big it weighs me down like an anchor. But I always win even so.

  She’s hot. I have to give Dave credit. He has excellent taste. His problem is that he can’t always get the girls.

  “How you doing, honey?” says Dave, jumping off the statue and landing right in her path. She’s just minding her own business, walking across campus. She’s hot, in a nerdy, shy kind of way. It’s like she doesn’t know how hot she is. She’s wearing a skirt that shows off her legs just enough, though. And she’s stacked. That’s just the way I like them.

  “Excuse me,” she says, trying to step around Dave. She’s carrying a shoulder bag that’s so full of books it looks like she might tip over from its weight.

  “Why don’t you come party with us, baby?” says Dave, stepping in front of her again.

  “No, thanks,” she says, finally looking at Dave. Her eyes widen at the sight of him. That’s completely understandable. After all, he’s wearing nothing but swim briefs. His body is still dripping wet. We’ve just been in the pool. I picked the lock so that we could get in, because we’re not supposed to be in there after all, and we’re definitely not supposed to be partying there.

  I’m up on the statue. Dave and I climbed all the way up to the top. I’m sitting, perched on top of this statue’s head. It’s just a statue of some old dude, a campus founder or something. Hell if I know who he is. When we were drinking earlier in the pool, I thought it’d be a good idea to steal the statue. I don’t know how the idea came into my head, but it just did. I’m always getting these crazy, wild ideas, usually involving something illegal. After all, I doubt the school administration, or my swim coach, would look so fondly on us stealing the school’s main statue. It’s right in the middle of the Quad, in front of the library.

  “You been studying all night or something, baby?” says Dave, as he tilts his beer can far back, draining the last of his beer. “I can show you how to relax a little bit. Come back to the swim house with me, and I promise I’ll show you a good time.”