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 back, 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 a
nd 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.
She comes, and it’s incredibly as the smell increases and the wetness seems to splash around me.
“Fuck me,” she cries. “Oh god, just fuck me, Luke.”
I don’t need to be told twice, and I quickly get up on top of her, again not bothering to support my body with my arms, but just resting it against her. It’s the missionary position, but it’s never been hotter.
I mount her, my cock sliding inside her with ease while she’s still coming, her orgasm seeming to rise in pitch and intensity.
I ride her hard and fast, and it doesn’t take long before she’s cumming again, although it’s hard to tell whether her first orgasm ever finished.
Did she have two distinct orgasms or just one? Whatever, I can’t worry about this for too long, because soon enough my cock’s pumping into the condom that I stealthily put on my cock. I freeze, holding my cock deep inside her.
Her hair is splayed out on the pillow. She looks painfully beautiful in the sunlight.
12.
Rebecca
That was an intense session.
I feel like I can barely breathe I’m so exhausted from not only the physical exertion but the immense pleasure.
“So was that our goodbye session?” I say.
“I guess so,” he says, tying up his condom and doing something with it. A moment later, it’s gone. I wonder how many he has with him at any given time, and what in the world he does with them once we’re done.
“So you’re not going to be able to go to another camp site?”
“No,” he says. “Unfortunately, it looks like we’re going to have to head right to the Austin airport where the plane will be waiting for us.”
I nod.
“I guess I’ll be heading back to my apartment myself. I don’t feel like continuing the vacation here with out you. It’d be so lonely.”
“But don’t you have the beautiful nature?” he says this with a little smirk.
“Don’t think you’re competing and beating out the natural world,” I say, giving him a light punch on the side of his arm.
“Well, I’d like to spend more time with you here, but we really should be getting going.”
“Oh,” I say, realizing that he means I need to leave right now. “Well, this is goodbye then. Will you at least help me unchain the car?”
He laughs. “Yeah, of course, baby. I’m sorry if I sounded like I was booting you out the door. That’s not what I meant.”
“That’s kind of what it sounded like.”
“I’m sorry,” he says, his face contorting into a playful look, as he comes in and gives me a big tight hug. I can feel his cock still semi-hard against my thigh, and I start feeling like I want to fuck him again right here and now. I really want to ride him, pinning him down against the floor, like a crazy wild woman, determined to have his cock deep inside me. But I guess that’ll have to wait until I see him again at the Liserian palace.
I just hope his plan about the official invitation letter works and gets me out of work. The boss, a Ms. Witherbottom, is pretty interested in royal affairs abroad, but she’s also incredibly strict about order and discipline. I don’t think she’s ever missed a day of work in her entire adult life, not even the day she had appendicitis.
We leave the RV and with Eugene, we get my car unchanged. I get in to check to make sure it starts, and to my disappointment it does. That means I’m leaving. Like right now. Goodbye prince, hope to see you again soon.
“Well this is it,” I say, looking forlornly at Luke. I really help his plan works out and I see him again in Liseria soon. I don’t know what I’d do without him.
“See you soon, bad American,” says Luke, leaning into my car window and giving me a deep kiss.
He stands with Eugene on the side of the road, watching me drive off.
I have tears in my eyes and I continue down the highway. I’m driving a fast 80 MPH, for some reason, apparently anxious to get away so that they won’t see my tears and face contorted in sadness.
My anxiety’s returning slowly as I drive away. My heart rate seems to have increased, and I’m already worried about all the other cars on the highway. What do they think of me driving alone by myself? Can they tell that I’ve been crying?
It’s a long few days as I drive by myself back to Pittsburg. I sleep in camp sites by myself, sneaking in after dark, trying to avoid the campsite fee. My budget needs to be a lot tighter if I’m going to go over to Liseria to visit Luka. I know he said I don’t need to pay for the trip, but I know I’m going to have a hard time accepting his royal money for every little thing. I mean if I stay in the royal palace that’s one thing—not paying for a hotel, but what if we go out to eat?
I realize now that I have no idea what it’s actually going to be like in Liseria, boarding in a real life royal palace. Fuck, I’m sure I’ll be way over my head, miles deep in my own silly middle class American customs, totally outpaced by the real royals. They’re not going to be anything like Luke, who’s adapted somewhat to American culture. They might not even speak English, and French feels shaky at best right now.
Along the way, I get a couple magazines and newspapers at gas stations.
To my utter surprise, Luke’s face is plastered across almost all of them. There are dozens of articles about him. Wow, I didn’t realize that he really was right about the press.
There’s no mention of him being “soft deported,” from the USA, but from what Luke said they usually keep that under wraps. That’s the meaning of “soft,” in the phrase, anyway.
I read about half the articles, but they make me feel sick to my stomach, and it’ shard finishing them. There’s a bit of Luke’s history in there, and let’s just say that it’s certainly not in the least bit flattering.
He’s been in countless bar room brawls, and was apparently usually the instigator. He’s left countless women bitter, far behind. He’s been in and out of jail, even—in jail, that is, until the police realize who he is, and feel obliged to release him.
I can see now why this fight in front of the press was such a big deal. It really was the last straw on the camel’s back that had already held far, far too much.
Finally, I get back to my apartment.
“How was the trip, Rebecca?” says Jill, my roommate.
“OK,” I say, and head into my room.
“Fine, don’t tell me anything about it then,” she calls out after me, pretending to be mad, but I know better. We’ve been friends, after all, since the forth grade, and we pretty much tell each other everything.
I don’t even unpack before falling onto my bed exhausted, closing my eyes. My thoughts are swimming all around, and I’m full of anxiety. Why do I think I’m special? How do I know that he didn’t say the same lines and act the same way to all those other women that I read about in the newspapers and gossip columns?
There’s a knock on my door.
“Go away,” I say, turning over and pressing my face into the pillow.
The door opens anyway.
“Are you OK?” Rebecca, says Jill.
“I’m fine,” I say. “Go away.”
“You’ve got to tell me what happened,” she says.
Finally, after a couple minutes of me pouting in a silly way, Jill finally convinces me to open up about the situation. She
has a way of doing that, and she’s always been able to get things out of me. Not that she’s doing it in a malicious way at all—instead, she just genuinely cares about me. I feel like we’re more like sister sometimes than friends.
“Wow,” she says, when I finish telling her the whole story. “A real prince, huh?”
I nod.
“You got pictures?”
“None of my own, but here,” I say, pulling out the stack of papers and magazines I’ve collected over the last few days and shove them into her face.
“Wow,” says Jill, breathing in deeply. “He’s fucking gorgeous.”
“Yeah,” I say. “But read the headlines.”
“I see what you mean. It doesn’t look like he’s…well, I don’t know what to say. But people do change, though, right?”
“I guess so,” I say.
“Well, either way, Rebecca. If you like him, you should keep seeing him. What did you say you have to do to get off work so you can go to Liseria?”
I tell her again about getting the official invitation.
“Well, just send Luke the address of your boss, and see where it goes from there. There’s no point in giving up now.”
“Giving up? It’s not like I’m trying to marry rich and royal or something. I really wish he was just a regular guy and I didn’t have to worry about all this royal rebel shit.”
“Yeah,” she says. “But it’s kind of a nice bonus in a way, isn’t it?”
I don’t say anything, but inside I’m thinking that maybe she’s on to something.
So I send an email to Luke, opening up my computer for the first time in more than a week.
I don’t hear anything back, so Monday I head into work as planned. Everyone’s curious about my trip, and I just tell them it was fun and relaxing, but I don’t mention anything about meeting, not to mention fucking, a real prince.
“Hey, Becs,” says Tom, one of my cubicle mates, a guy in his fifties with a long ponytail. “Witherbottom wants to see you in her office.”
“Shit, am I in trouble?”
“Dunno,” he says, shrugging his shoulders, and heading off to the break room where he’s always likely to be found.
Filthy Royal Page 8