Author's Note: The following is a gay love story involving HRH Prince William of Wales in response to a "readers' choice" survey conducted at ASSGM. It is totally a fantasy, and does not represent nor imply the true sexual orientation of the two young men you will read about, only the wishful dreaming of the author. If fantasies about royalty having a same sex experience offend you, you should not read any further. This story has been posted at free adult sites featuring gay stories for adult entertainment only and may not be copied electronically nor in any other form for redistribution. Permission has not been given to copy or post this story in any other sites than those described here. Fans of celeb stories or Prince William can send email addresses of hot British boys, pictures of their family jewels, further story ideas about HRH, or praise to the author J.O. Dickingson at authorsix@hotmail.com
Rendezvous in the Forest of Dean
The tall, lanky youth, having turned nineteen less than a week ago, removed his electronic identification bracelet, and hanging it on the branch of a birch sapling, continued another hundred yards before stepping off the narrow forest trail. Pushing through the dense undergrowth of the old English forest, the six-foot-two, hundred and sixty-five pound youth emerged in a small, secluded clearing not much larger than a modest-sized living room. Stepping over to an ancient oak whose thick, spreading branches and dense foliage were largely responsible for the clearing, he sat on the soft moss at the base of the tree and leaned his back against the forest giant. It had rained that morning, a typical British rain, a light, warm drizzle that had lasted most of the morning. By mid afternoon, however, the clouds had disappeared and the sun was now shining bright and hot, at least as hot as it could get the last week of June in England. The air smelled extra crisp and clean, and the humidity accented the heavy earthiness of the primeval forest and the fresh fragrance of the lush ferns along the border of the clearing. Everything looked so much brighter and sharper. It was the ideal afternoon for a leisurely stroll in the British country side, or for a clandestine love affair in the Cotswolds, or for a young man with weighty problems to find a secluded spot where he could sit and think about life undisturbed.
Once stretching across the country, woodlands now constituted less than four percent of the total land area of England. This ancient royal forest of oaks, ashes, birches, and ferns, formerly a royal hunting forest, once occupied more than two hundred square miles along the border of Wales, covering high sandstone ridges and the valley between. Designated a national forest in 1939, the Royal Forest of Dean now covered thirty-five square miles in the Cotswolds and was criss-crossed by narrow farmer's tracks and nature paths, and was by law, open to grazing sheep.
The young man in question had a lot to think about as he removed his futuristic-looking silver-coloured wraparound shades and slipped them in the pocket of his two-tone dark green and white polo shirt. He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. It was difficult to believe a year had gone by and he had just marked his nineteenth birthday. Like his eighteenth when he'd been studying for his final exams at Eton, nothing special had been planned, just a small affair with family and a couple close friends. Also like his eighteenth, there was to have been a special photo op with the media to appease them, and to announce his accommodation plans for college in the fall, but after the latest media subterfuge involving his aunt that had been cancelled.
Commencing college was one of the things on the teenager's mind that afternoon, as it was on the minds of many nineteen-year-olds who had chosen to take a gap year. Despite his station in life and his extraordinarily successful past two years, he was only nineteen, and he faced his upcoming university years with the same mixture of hopeful anticipation and apprehensive anxiety as any young man about to embark on the next major phase of his life. Moving away from home and family, the challenge of new and more difficult courses, establishing a new routine and relationships with new teachers and new classmates, it was all both exciting and worrisome, and it was the same if you were rich, middle class, or poor.
His years at Eton had been particularly enjoyable, and certainly more pleasant than his father's boarding school experience at Gordonstoun Scotland. There had been a lot of pressure to do well, not just because he was in the public eye, but because his parents wanted him to do well. He had done so, and in fact had done better than his father and uncles, getting mostly A's with a few B's on his A-levels. The paparazzi had mercifully left him alone, in part because of his grandmother's and father's demands, in part out of respect for his mourning, but mostly out of their own selfish guilt considering the role they had played in the death of his mother. Being left alone after the brutal hounding of the three years prior to that had been a real blessing in itself.
His mates, and the beaks, as Etonians called their teachers, had treated him like they would anyone else more or less, at least as much as they could considering who he was. Of course he had tried very hard to be normal, whatever that was, and that had not been easy in that many of those in his social set, the sons and daughters of British and European nobility and the 'Hooray Henry' set of the wealthy upper class as they were sarcastically called by the media, were very much into snorting cocaine and experimenting with other drugs circulating Oxford, Cambridge and Eton. It was difficult to say no when all your friends were saying yes, but he had stayed clean. For one, he'd been given strict rules to follow by his parents and his grandmother, and for another, when you are constantly followed by two body guards it is difficult to get into trouble. The main reason though was that the drug scene just was not his scene.
He had, on the other hand, drunk enough to suffer the occasional hangover, and he had tried tobacco, and even a few joints, the latter only after extreme pressure from his mates and only with the very closest of friends and with extreme precautions to ensure he would not be discovered. Of course he'd engaged in the occasional infraction of school rules like curfews and visitors to his room. After all, he was a healthy, curious teenage boy going through his adolescence in a school with twelve hundred other boys between the ages of thirteen and eighteen. Just because a person was wealthy and famous didn't alter the effect of teenage hormones on a boy's mind and body.
Anyway, despite his success at Eton and having achieved excellent results on his post- secondary entrance exams last year, entering St. Andrews University, Scotland's oldest seat of learning, was going to be a big step. He and his father had already decided that he would live in residence, at least for his first year, and he hoped that his mates there would accept him as just another student as his mates at Eton had. Being accepted by those of his age group had always been important to him.
Of course he wasn't just another student, he was destined to be a king.
That meant higher expectations on everybody's part, and additional obligations on his part. Although his responsibilities and duties would be limited while he undertook his training, there were things that he had to learn about being a king-in-waiting, and there would be duties to perform. His gap year spent so far in the jungles of South America and a farm in the southwest of England had already taught him a lot about responsibility, and about himself, and he was sure the remaining months in Africa would prepare him even further.
Of course along with university and returning from his gap year would be an increase in media attention. They had been particularly good about leaving him alone, except for the incidence of OK! which had flouted the rules set by the Palace early in his gap year. Those days he knew were over, and with memories of the harassment his mother had experienced, and his own discomfort as a preteen with the constant probing into his life and the wicked and false rumours about his family, it was not something he was looking forward to.
One of the things he knew that the media and the hundreds fan clubs on the Internet were going to be concentrating on was the fact that he was one of the most eligible bachelors in the world. He'd signed into some of the teenage fan clubs under a false name, and the ferocity with which some of the girls defended him against the rumours, and the even more embarrassing declarations of passionate love for him made by total strangers surprised him, and frightened him. One site even went so far as to say one of his nicknames was His Royal Sighness, and another was His Royal Hotness, of all the dumbest things!
According to the tabloids and fan clubs, Isabella Anstruther-Gough-Calthorpe, a student at Edinburgh University and with whom he'd spent some time with but didn't really know that well, was touted to be at the top of the list of potential wives. She, at least, had the decency not to have made any comment about him. He could not say the same for Britney Spears who had called him cute and had said she could relate to him and Harry. According to the Daily Star he had supposedly sent her a note asking her to contact him after she'd sent him sexy pictures of herself. He had to hope it was her PR agents and not her herself who had stooped so low as to make such a stupid statement and to try to use his name for publicity. On top of it, Christina Aguilera, whom he'd never had any contact with, had to add her two pence in and comment to the tabloids that she was not going to fight Britney over him, as if he was some prize, and as if he'd wanted either one of the birds.
The worse of all had to be Tara Palmer-Tompkinson, who had the nerve to say in a society magazine a year and a half ago in response to rumours about the two of them that she was a drug addict, not a paedophile, as if he was some child, and then went on to hint that there had been some group debagging, which of course was all in her imagination. What had not been in her imagination was taking off her bikini top in from of him last summer and flaunting her tits, and then in Klosters sitting on his lap and squirming in the hopes she'd give him a wood. If the right ignorant flippin' berk only knew that there was a little chance of that happening!
That was another concern, a very big concern. He suspected his mother had known his biggest and darkest secret. Why else would she have given him a cake with topless female figurines for his fifteenth birthday? She never said she knew, but she certainly did everything she could to throw the birds at him. At first he'd thought it was just the competition between her and his father as to who could spoil Harry and him the most, who could offer them the best gifts, the best holiday, the best time. Toward the end, just before her death, he'd begun to wonder.
Of course his own mother had not been a great role model, even though she did have many good qualities and he had loved her dearly. The world knew of his mother's bulimia, but watching your mother gorging herself at meals and then excusing herself and knowing she was sticking her fingers down her throat until she puked everything back up into the porcelain throne was what hurt, not the public knowledge of her sickness. If that wasn't bad enough, reading about her affairs in the paper and having her talking about her sex life during the bitter divorce proceedings had been a major embarrassment, especially for an adolescent boy. Of course that was not the reason, but knowing your mother was dropping her panties for anyone and everyone, certainly a lot more than the public would ever know, truthfully was enough to turn a young boy off of women.
He had, as would be expected, been confused about his feelings about sex and himself and tormented by his feelings about his parents. One's early teens are tough times for any boy, and were especially tough for him. Everyone knew about his shyness and his reclusiveness. Nobody had known the real reason for that. Those had been his dark days, days when he'd considered himself the wickedest of perverts, and the most ungrateful of sons for being bent as a nine- pound/bob note. Those were the days he'd withdrawn into his shell, given in to impulses and feelings he did not understand, and had even sought out pain to punish himself, first of all causing another pain to ease his anger, and then subjecting himself to pain for the same reason. That had been two years ago, culminating in an experience with a gay teenage American thespian who'd been in London on holiday. That encounter had both frightened him, and caused him the greatest pleasure he'd ever experienced.
Even his closest confidents, his cousin Peter Phillips, who had been his main support the months following the death of his mother, and Mark Dyer, who had helped design his gap year and had even been in Chile for part of the time to ensure things were going all right, and who was presently his temporary equerry, did not know the darker sides of his personality. Only one person knew, and JT was not going to say anything. If he did, the press would have a hay day with both of them.
Dealing with the press was something he was coming to terms with, and handling much better than back when he'd hid in the well of the carriage so he would not be seen, but it was not easy, and the paparazzi were not making it easy. They certainly had shown their audacity with the entrapment of his aunt Sophie and her stupid business partner Murray Harkin at the end of March. He could not believe the stupid flippin' wanker would actually offer to get together some young men for a homosexual dinner party for a supposed client he had not even met face to face, and claim to have taken cocaine and ecstasy over the phone. If that wasn't bad enough, to suggest his aunt's position could be used to help further this supposed client's business was asinine. Now, imagine if The News of the World had paid some rent boy to entrap him! It sucked having to be so flippin' careful every second of one's life.
"My, such a bloody long face, mate. I 'ope it isn't because of any thoughts of meeting me."
William opened his eyes immediately and a smile curled his lips at the sound of the familiar voice.
"Of course not," he laughed as he leaped to his feet, the handsome young man's bright smile and twinkling green eyes dispersing the black clouds that had been filling his mind.
"That's good," the other said as he reached out. "I woke up this morning with a real pan 'andle and I've been looking forward to this afternoon so you could 'elp me get rid of it."
"Really?" responded the tall, lanky teenager with a twinkle in his blue eyes. "Now, what did you 'ave in mind mate?"
"I've imagined a dozen ways on the way over 'ere," responded the twenty-two-year-old youth, looking up at William. At five-ten, he was four inches shorter than the younger boy. "I can't tell you 'ow much I've been looking forward to this afternoon from the moment you suggested it."
"So 'ave I," said William, slipping his arms about the curly-headed young man. "Three days is a flippin' 'ell of a long time for a bloke to wait."
Frederick Windsor, the grandson of the late Duke Mountbattan, son of Prince Michael of Kent, and second cousin to Prince Charles, drew the tall, lanky teenager to him and held him tight. William's absence this past year had been a lot harder on the twenty-two-year-old university student than on William, especially without the familiar crutch of drugs to help him. Snorting cocaine at that London party in Fulham two years ago had been the most foolish thing he'd done, but then he hadn't thought his supposed friends would shop him. Of course their fear what effect his drug habit might have on young Prince William with whom he'd been associating more and more had been justified. When the news broke that September while he was finishing his summer work experience in New York he thought his world had come to an end. He knew his parents were devastated, and even now two years later, there was a strain and a sense of distrust between himself and his father.
Of course part of the reason for that was because he was headstrong and brash when in private with family or close friends. He was a lot like William in that respect. That was one of the many things the two youths had discovered they had in common, and which they admired in each other. He also had a need to fit in, a special problem all young royals have through no fault of their own. It had been a tough two years, but he'd promised to swear off drugs, and he had. He'd buried himself in his studies at Oxford, which had not been a bad thing, and settled for drinking lager and wine. The toughest thing of all though was being separated from the boy he'd come to love and to desire more than anything else in this world. Being away from William had been the reason for more than one major nighttime piss-up over the past year in particular. His drinking had also been the cause of more than one argument with his parents, but he could not tell them the reason for getting totally pissed once a month was because the boy he loved was on another continent thousands of miles away.
Their rendezvous this afternoon had been well planned. After his lengthy absence in South America, then the month as a farm labourer in Southwest England, and most recently being away in Africa these past weeks, one would have thought the strong-willed teenager would want to spend his evenings at one of his favourite Sloane spots from his school days at Eton, the K-bar or Jak's, which always presented security and privacy issues. So, when William had indicated he wanted to spend some time at the family home at Highgrove in Gloucestershire, his father, and those charged with his protection, were relieved.
Stopping in at the little village of Tetbury a mile and a half northeast of the estate after lunch for sweets was not unusual. The village folk had been accustomed to seeing Harry and him stop in at the candy shop when they were youngsters, back during happier times. His request that he have some time alone to relax and think was not unusual either considering the hectic pace he'd kept during his gap year, and the decisions facing him, nor was his wish to take a stroll in the forest considering the interest both he and his father had in the outdoors. Westonbirt Arboretum three-and-a-half miles outside Tetbury was a logical choice, but his objection to closing off part of the arboretum to the public just for him, especially with the limited access the public had to the outdoors with all the restrictions the past weeks was not only logical and admirable, but so much like him. In that way he was very much like his late mother.
His choice of the Royal Forest of Dean was a surprise, but it was only forty miles away, and currently being closed to the public due to the hoof and mouth disease problem, it was secure. In that they were beginning to open up parts of the reserve, and that there were no sheep grazing in the area he'd suggested, it had not been that difficult to get permission for him to access a mile of pathway. So, after picking up some sweets at Tetbury, he'd headed for the forest in the VW Golf he'd gotten for his seventeenth birthday, accompanied by his two constant companions from the Scotland Yard. Turning onto the trunk road at Elton, he left the dual carriageway and headed for Upper Soudley.
Frederick, meanwhile, had spent the night with his parents at Nether Lypiatt Manor, the family's country home north of Tetbury, which was perfectly normal, and after lunch the next day left for a spin in the country, also perfectly normal. Arriving at Upper Soudley shortly after William, he headed east on the church road, travelling through Lower Soudley and pulling in at Brain's Green. William, meanwhile, had headed west on the Top Road and turned south along the narrow unfenced roadway to Blackpool Bridge, a mile cross county as the crow flies from Brain's Green.
Leaving his guards at the bridge, William followed the farmer's track south through the Blakeneyhill Woods toward the public convenience, and then angled back northeast, leaving the track and heading back south where an animal trail cut across it. Frederick, meanwhile, had walked up the country road a quarter mile and then headed straight west across the elevation where he took the southwest branch of the trail. Both were heading for the same destination, the huge oak they had discovered on a walk they'd taken in the forest shortly after Frederick's coke habit had been revealed, a spot in the ancient forest that had subsequently become theirs.
It was that beautiful fall day almost two years ago that Frederick was thinking of as he kissed William's neck and slowly began to unbutton his Ralph Lauren polo shirt. William was wearing one of his favourite colognes, Royal Copenhagen Sport, and Frederick inhaled and delighted in the energetic fragrance of citrus, soft woods, and mosses with just a touch of amber, a fragrance he'd come to know and love after many clandestine lovemaking sessions with the handsome teen. Slipping his arms about Frederick, William cocked his head and pressed his lips against the shorter youth's mouth eagerly. Frederick returned the kiss and as William began to caress his back, he slipped his hands under the teenager's shirt and began to massage his firm deltoids. They stood there kissing and caressing for several minutes, desire gradually building in their loins and causing their cocks to begin to swell. Kissing William's cheek, and then his neck, Frederick continued to unbutton the dark green and white polo shirt, kissing his chest lower and lower with each undone button.
"I can't get over 'ow solid your muscles 'ave become," Frederick sighed as he slipped the polo shirt off William's shoulders.
"Comes from mucking out barns last month and all the flippin' logs I packed in Chile," William replied with a smile, his blue eyes sparkling and his lips curling into that shy smile that was so familiar and had caused teenage hearts around the world to flutter.
"Feels like you're packing wood right now, mate," teased Frederick as he slipped his hand around the bulge in William's khakis.
"Not yet, but soon luv," replied William as he kissed the curly-headed youth and pressed his hips into the boy's hand.
"Don't tell me you've added muscle down there too," Frederick said, his green eyes sparkling with amusement and his smooth cheeks beginning to flush with arousal.
"That you'll have to discover for yourself," William responded as he unbuttoned his lover's Tomasz Starzewski shirt. He looked hot in the cream-coloured silk brocade, one of the shirts he'd modelled for the designer, though not as hot as in the torn pink vest he'd modelled for the photo spread in the November 1999 issue of W Magazine. William ran his fingers through the dense, curly brown hairs covering Frederick's young, muscular chest and inhaled the lavender fragrance of his British Sterling by Speidel, Frederick's favourite cologne splash.
"You've firmed up your pecs," William observed as he slipped Frederick's shirt off.
"Been working out," commented Frederick. "For you."
Kissing William hotly on the lips, he sighed with desire. Kissing his cheek, then nibbling on his neck and causing William to tremble with arousal, Frederick began pecking at his chest, working his way down to the teenager's right nipple. He kissed it, and then licked it, causing the little pinkish-brown teat to become firm. He nibbled on it, causing the teenage boy to throw back his head and part his lips as he gasped with the arousal burning through the irritated bud. The young lord licked the areole around the boy's teat, and then licked the firm, muscular flesh below it. The boy's chest was smooth and hairless. Without raising his tongue, he continued over to the shallow indentation between William's breasts, and followed it down over his ribs to where it disappeared under the boy's Gap khaki's.
Undoing his buckle and pulling down his fly, Frederick eased the teenager's khakis down, revealing a pair of tight, bulging, plum-coloured Bumfloss unisex slinky hipsters and his smooth, downy thighs, the thighs of a Greek god. Pushing his khakis down to his ankles, Frederick reached up and slipping his fingers under the elastic band of the boy's Australian nylon viscose underwear, he pulled them away from his body to clear his raging hard-on and eased them down. He kissed the boy's sensitive inner thigh, causing William's stiff cock to jerk with arousal and his own to ooze out the first droplet of pre-cum. He continued to kiss and nibble at the teenage boy's thigh, causing him to groan and to grasp his shoulders with ecstasy.
Unable to resist longer, the aroused twenty-two-year-old royal scion, twenty-eighth in line for the throne, ran his tongue up along the young prince's downy thigh until his nose was buried beneath the boy's low-hung balls. He inhaled deeply, revelling in the heady, musky fragrance of ripe teenage nadds, which was even more arousing than the boy's cologne by Royal Copenhagen. He exhaled and his hot breath caused the sandy-blond youth's nuts to roll in their sack. Slipping his lips over the lower hanging ball, the curly-headed youth sucked it into his mouth and then allowed it to slip back out. He repeated it a second and third time, and then did the same to the boy's higher nut. By this time William's stiff cock had oozed out several droplets of clear pre- cum.
Running his tongue up the shaft of the boy's seven-and-a-half inch dong, he paused at the rim of the flanged, purple bell-end, the boy's foreskin having stretched back with his hardness and desire. As he ran his tongue along the sensitive edge, leaving behind a trail of spittle, another droplet of pref-cum oozed out of the throbbing, aching cock, causing the accumulated nectar to begin to ooze down along the funnel on the underside of his spongy knob. Frederick ran his tongue to the opening of the funnel and then up along the underside of the boy's cock, licking up the delicious, sweet teenage nectar, his black cotton and lycra pouch briefs growing sticky with his own sexual juices.
Pausing to savour the delicious offering, he brushed his smooth cheek against the stiff, aching organ, causing the boy to tremble and ache for the pleasure he knew his lover was capable of giving. They were both breathing hard now, inhaling the fresh forest air scented with oak and fern and male musk. Kneeling there in the royal hunting forest, the young lord slipped his mouth over the groaning, aching prince's delicious beef bayonet, taking in only the teenage boy's bell- end. High above in the ancient oak a bright blue and yellow tit inspected a leaf, and then advancing in a series of small, rapid hops, proceeded to the next leaf and thoroughly inspected it, ignoring the two randy youths far below it.
William fought the impulse to lunge forward, to plunge his bayonet down his lover's throat. How many lonely nights had he spent having a J Arthur under the sheets in Mauritius and Chile thinking of Frederick and remembering the hours of lovemaking with him? How many times had he been tempted to approach one of the young, handsome Welsh Guards in Belize and tell him how badly he needed a blow job? He hadn't of course. He had refrained from having any sexual relationships, not because it was risky health-wise, or because it was dangerous politically, but because he would have felt as if he was cheating on Frederick if he had, and he could not do that. All those months saving himself for Frederick with worth it. At the moment he felt fucking fantastic.
As Frederick continued to go down on him, William reached down and ran his fingers through the older youth's tight, dark brown curls. He massaged his lover's scalp as the older youth began to work his mouth up and down his solid, throbbing hard-on. His cock throbbed with desire and with pleasure. He could feel it beating, like his heart. The pressure in his loins began to build, and as Frederick continued to work his lips up and down his shaft and to gently suck on his throbbing flesh, William closed his eyes and sighed. For all the hours the young prince fretted and worried about being a botty boy, these few minutes made it all worthwhile.
The pressure continued to build and the bell-end of his aching cock began to itch with a painful pleasure. The opening at the tip of his stiff member, called by many of his friends the jap's eye, burned with stimulation, and deep in his groin there was a sudden uncoiling. With a warning to his lover, William braced himself as his hot spoof gushed up the core of his rock-hard cock and erupted out the opening. Shot after violent shot erupted out his body, sending thrills of ecstasy through his numbed, swollen flesh. He gasped and cried out with his pleasure, throwing back his head and gasping for breath with a zest that was so typical of the unabashed youth of today.
Frederick grasped the trembling boy's naked backside to support the teenager as the boy emptied his balls. He swallowed the thick spoof and swirled it about with his tongue, delighting in the taste and the texture of that creamy nut-milk he had sucked out of the boy, and delighting even more so with the pleasure of having brought his beloved such pleasure. That was what love was about.
Waiting until the hot, mouth-watering banger in his mouth had stopped spurting, Frederick tightened his lips about the still stiff flesh and sucking gently, drew his lips up to the flanged knob, squeezing out a suck of cum like sucking out the marrow of a bone. Opening his mouth and slipping his lips down, he tightened them a second time and once more drew up as he sucked on the teenage cock, drawing out another stream of cum. He repeated the action until he'd sucked the boy dry and to the point that to continue would have crossed that fine border between ecstasy and sadism.
He at last sat back and William dropped down beside him. Slipping his arm about the teenage boy, his Australian boxers and khakis still about his ankles, the older youth kissed him gently on the forehead.
"Oh God, 'ow I love you," William sighed as he snuggled into Frederick's arms. "I love you so bloody awful much."
"I love you too," said Frederick, drawing William closer to him.
The two lovers kissed, and William tasted his cock on his lover's lips, and smelled his cum on his breath. They kissed again, and again, and William reached down and fumbled with his lover's belt. It was awkward, especially with him being left-handed, but he finally undid the buckle and drew down the older youth's zipper. Frederick rose to his knees and William eagerly drew down his russset-coloured corduroys. The youth's tight black cotton/lycra briefs with the gold Brass Monkey badge were tented out, his anxious cock pulling the cloth away from his body. William eagerly drew his lover's underwear down, and then reached over and stroked his lover's long, aching cock. It was almost identical to his in length, but was slightly thicker, and the bell- end was more bulbous than mushroom capped. Like William, he was uncut.
"Fuck me," William asked, removing his shoes and pulling off his trousers and underwear. He got on his hands and knees. "I need to feel you inside me. I need to feel you up my arsehole."
Taking his tube of lube out of his trousers, Frederick applied a generous coating to his bell-end. Slowly inserting his greased forefinger up William's rectum, he twisted it, causing the boy to squirm and his spent cock to begin to swell again. Removing it, he inserted his middle finger and did the same, and then carefully inserted both and finger fucked the tight boyhole, loosening him up and preparing him for the thicker flesh to follow. William squirmed with the pleasure, his smooth cheeks flushing a bright red with arousal and his cock almost fully erect. Finally kneeling behind the horny teenager with his trousers and underwear still about his ankles, Frederick placed the tip of his greased banger against William's hole. Grasping the boy's hips, the older youth slowly eased forward and his greased knob stretched apart the younger boy's tight sphincter. The two youths preferred to fuck in the raw, not because of any increased physical pleasure, but because of the mental arousal of having flesh against flesh, and knowing that ultimately the one would be planting his seed inside the other's body. They had sworn themselves to be faithful to each other during William's gap year, and they trusted each other totally to have kept that promise. The two were not foolish enough to risk their health and their reputations to do otherwise, and besides, they honestly loved each other and though they might have thought about having sex with another boy, they would never have done so.
The sincerest and most intimate expression of that love was the union of their bodies in that most vulgar and most sacred of acts. To allow another man to insert his organ into your body was to totally submit to him, and to insert that most sensitive and private part of one's body up another man's rectum was to affirm your love for him. To bring another man pleasure by fucking his ass, and to bring another man pleasure by allowing him to fuck you, was the ultimate expression of the love of one man for another. To them it was not a matter of one being the dominant partner and the other the submissive, nor one taking the masculine role and the other the feminine role. To them it was something mutual, and something natural.
A hawfinch looked down at the mating boys and cocked its orange-brown head as it watched for a moment, and then spreading apart its boldly marked black and white wings, it launched itself from its perch and glided through the forest. From its conspicuous treetop perch a male song thrush called out with its far-crying prolonged musical song, loud and clear with a repetition of short phrases. Another male half a mile away responded. with a long, sustained reply. A bird watcher might say they were defining their territories, or perhaps they had lost their mates and were looking for another. Had the two boys on the forest floor been asked, they would have likely responded that the two males were calling each other.
The two boys were making their own music, the music of two youths filled with lust and unabashed joy. William's heavy panting could surely be heard by the thrush high above him as the boy inhaled and exhaled deeply, the forest air scented with the crushed grass and sweet forest blue bells filling his lungs. He grunted as Frederick eased his cock up his rectum and he pushed outward, and he inhaled deeply as he tightened his rectum and Frederick drew his cock back. The twenty-two-year-old youth pumped his hips slowly, wanting the pleasure to last, but the heat and moistness of the teenager's rectum and the taste of his cum still in his mouth were too erotic.
Feeling the familiar pressure building up in his crotch, he grasped his beloved's smooth, compact ass more tightly and began to pound him faster and faster. He openly grunted and snorted like a wild bore in rut, enjoying the pleasure building up deep in his loins as much as he enjoyed the groans of pleasure emanating from the lips of his beloved. The knob of his cock itched as if it had been brushed by poison ivy, and his pecker throbbed numbly as if it were a second heart. His low hung nadds had tightened up into two compact balls, and finally he felt the twang directly under them that announced the release of his seed.
Thrusting his cock up the young prince's rectum as far as he could, he squeezed his tender ass and threw back his head, gasping with the ecstasy of releasing his seed.
It shot out of his burning cockhead and into the moist, hot cavity of his beloved, spurt after spurt, his creamy white load filling the boy's rectum. William knew his lover was squirting his seed into him, and he quivered and gasped with an equal ecstasy, accepting his seed just as the delicate white and pink- flushed florets of the Lady Orchid growing nearby with their dark red hoods and purplish spots would accept the pollen from a visiting bee. United in ecstasy, the two youths knelt there, their young, athletic bodies flushed with the heat of a satisfying and fulfilling fuck.
Frederick finally withdrew his cock and sat back on his haunches, his member still stiff and now slick with lube, his beloved's moistness, and a film of his own cum glistening in the afternoon sun. His chest, broad and covered with a mat of curly brown hair, rose and fell as he regained his breath. Backing up and raising himself into a squatting position, William sat back beside his lover, his butt glowing warmly and his arsehole still pulsating from the hot, delicious fucking it had just received. Frederick wrapped an arm about the younger boy and drew him close and the two, without a word, fell back onto the mossy carpet. They looked up at the dense, green foliage with dewy eyes blurred by the pleasure that had flooded their bodies. It was a wonderful afternoon, and it was wonderful to be in love.
"You looking forward to returning to Magdalen University College in the fall?"
"Yes, but I wish you were going there yourself instead of St. Andrews. Scotland is so fucking far from Oxford."
"Like the three years we spent together in Eton."
"Who would 'ave thought back then that we'd fall in love?"
"Indeed," replied William. "So when you get your classical literature degree, then what?"
"Teach I imagine."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
"Maybe you could teach at St. Andrews."
"Hmm, and 'ave a teacher-student liaison?" Frederick said with a grin as he looked over at William. The lanky, naked teenager looked so fucking hot laying there beside him with his deep blue eyes, his sandy-blond hair neatly trimmed and styled though now mussed from the hot sex they'd just had, and his body now muscular and firm from his gap year. He was naked except for his socks.
"Why not?" William said. "You've been a great teacher so far." He wiggled over and the two boys kissed, gently, fondly.
"Well, wherever I go, it will 'ave to be somewhere away from my father."
"Why?" asked William, suddenly concerned. "Is there a problem?"
"Oh no," Frederick replied quickly. "We had a few tense moments after that cocaine thing, but things are fine between us. I just want to be somewhere where I can make a mark on my own, and not because I'm the son of Prince Michael of Kent."
"I know what you mean."
"You 'ave it even more difficult than I do."
"Yeah," William sighed. He could not deny that.
"That is something the public will never understand. They think because of whom we are we don't 'ave any problems."
"Worse, they think we 'ave all these special advantages and privileges."
"What I 'ate most is the ignorance about the work that our families do."
"It is the same though for say a CEO of a major company," observed William. "Like Raleigh International," he added, thinking of his ten-week expedition to southern Chile as a volunteer for Raleigh International. "It is easy to understand building 'omes or clearing forest, but 'ow can the average person understand what the president of an organization like Raleigh does?"
"Or the significance of the charity work our parents do, or the role of a patron of the arts," Frederick added, thinking of his own interest in classical literature and William's interest in the history of art.
"When do you go back to Africa?"
"Too soon," William sighed. "In a few days."
"Do you have to?"
"You know I do."
"I'll miss you."
"Come with me."
"Wish I could."
"It would be awesome, the two of us out in the veldt, fucking each other silly with a pride of lions watching."
"It is special, doing it out in nature, isn't it."
"Oh yes," William sighed. "Though making love with you is special wherever we do it."
Frederic smiled and raising himself on his right elbow, leaned over and kissed the youth. "When you become king, you'll 'ave to declare this spot in the Blakeneyhill Woods under your special protection."
"Perhaps it would 'ave been more appropriate if we'd gone further west north of Yorkley Slade and chosen a spot in Cockshoot Wood," William suggested with a twinkle in his blue eyes.
"I love nothing more than making your cock shoot," replied Frederick with an appreciative smile as he reached over and cupped the teenager's warm balls and fondled them.
"And I yours," replied William, reaching down and slipping his long fingers about his lover's limp, sticky cock.
The young prince thought back to the day he'd learned about jacking off from his dorm mates at Ludgrove School, and the night he'd dared to reach down between his legs and touch that organ he'd been taught was so private and so dirty. He thought about his and Harry's investigation into those physical feelings as he introduced his younger brother to having a J. Arthur and their discovery together of other means of stimulation he'd heard rumours about at school. He thought about his confusion about being gay, and how that confusion had lead to other deprivations that were his darkest secrets and the darkest years of his teen life, like on his uncle Edward's wedding night when he'd been babysitting his two little preschool cousins who had served as pageboys exactly two years ago that week, and his exploration of S and M only two months prior to that. Then there was that summer night with Frederick, that night that he finally discovered what it was really like to be gay, the night he discovered love.
The young prince, so naive and innocent in many ways and so mature and experienced in others, fondled his lover's low-hanging balls, and then drew his fingertips to his nose and inhaled. The raw wild-animal odour of his knackers was so right, so perfect. Humans were basically animals, sophisticated, clothed, thinking animals, but animals none the less. They ate and drank and shit and pissed and fucked just like all animals. They knew of fear and survival. They had instincts and drives beyond their control, beyond their understanding. Why he was a gay animal, he did not know, but he knew now that he was glad that he was. There was nothing more delightful than being a man and being in love with another man.
He ran his hand through the curly hairs on Frederick's chest and fiddled with his nipple, causing it to become firm and causing his lover to squirm with the painful pleasure. He propped himself up on his right elbow and leaned over and kissed the older boy. This time it was he who was the aggressor. That was the beauty of their love. They might be Prince and Lord, there might be four years difference in their ages, and their childhood and adolescent years might have been markedly different, but when it came to love and to sex, they were equals. Neither was the master, and neither always took the lead, and the other's pleasure always came first.
William reached down with his left hand and fondled Frederick's cock. It was so different to hold someone else's dick in your hand. He leaned forward and they kissed softly and gently. As William continued to stroke his lover's slowly swelling organ, he forced his tongue between his lover's lips. Frederick readily parted his lips and the nineteen-year-old slipped his tongue over his lover's, their spittle mixing and becoming one. As passions rose their tongues duelled, one sliding over the top of the other and then the other sliding over the top of the first. William felt Frederick's hand slowly slip down his firm deltoids, past the small of his back, and then over his smooth hip to his flat stomach. He felt his lover's fingers twist his curly sandy-blond hairs and then slip along the crevice between his thigh and his groin to cup and to roll his knackers in their loose sack.
Frederick was getting a hard-on, and as William paused and concentrated on the sensations rippling through his own swelling cock, he closed his eyes and rested his head on Frederick's chest. He allowed the youth to draw back his loose skin and then draw it back up over his mushroom-shaped knob, stroking his cock slowly and gently just as he so often stroked it himself, except for the fact he used his left hand and Frederick used his right. He rubbed his smooth, downy cheek on Frederick's chest and concentrated on the pleasure of becoming erect in his lover's hand.
"Where did you get the sexy 'ipsters anyway?" Frederick asked as he sat up and glanced at the boy's discarded underwear. He slipped his hand down William's long, muscular leg and removed one of his socks.
"Off the net," William replied, "from the Bumfloss website in Australia."
"Love the plum colour, but I wonder what the common man would think if he knew 'is king wasn't supporting the local economy," teased Frederick as he pulled off William's other sock.
"Well, I am supporting the colonies," William replied with a twinkle in his eyes as he pulled off Frederick's shoes and began to tug on his trousers tangled about his ankles. "And Australia is still part of the Commonwealth."
"Well, at least I'm supporting the local merchants," responded Frederick as William began to slip his black pouch briefs over his feet.
"And I'm sure the Brass Monkey appreciates it," William observed. "Though I bet they'd appreciate it even more if you offered to model these." He held up the black briefs with the Brass Monkey badge.
"I'm afraid my modelling career was short lived."
"That's good, because I don't want to share your beautiful body with anyone else," responded William as he removed Frederick's socks.
They were now totally naked, like the rest of the woodland creatures, and like the creatures around them, they gave in to their natural urges. Frederick lay on his back on the soft mossy carpet, and spreading apart his legs, he threw them in the air and hooked his arms under his knees. He was young, and he had been working out. William sat on the back of his heels, and placing his hands on his lover's rump to help support him, he lowered his head and ran his tongue along the older youth's crack to his arsehole. The horny teenager sniffed his hole as a young pup might sniff the ass of an alpha male, and then he ran his tongue over the sensitive rosebud.
The natural saltiness of the boy's crack caused the flow of the young boy's saliva to increase. Pressing his lips against his lover's hole and constricting his cheeks, he forced his saliva into the youth's dank rectum. He struck his lover's quivering bud with his tongue and wormed his tongue into his hole. His mouth filled with saliva once again and he sat back and drooled over his aching cock. His spittle flowed down over the spongy purplish-blue bell-end of his cock and down the shaft. William rimmed his lover's asshole eagerly until once again his mouth was filled, and once again he pressed his lips against the older boy's anus and blew his drool into the boy's rectum. If the thousands of adoring teenage girls and young women could only see their sandy- blond Prince Charming now, kneeling there in the Royal Forest of Dean, his lips pressed against his lover's arsehole and his stiff pan handle glistening with his spittle.
Raising his head, he shuffled closer to his lover, and then looking down into his green eyes, William wedged the tip of his saliva-slick cock in his lover's opening and pressed forward. Frederick grunted as he pushed out, and gasping for a second breath, he grunted a second time as he strained to accept his teenage love. William snorted and grunted like a boar in rut as he gasped for breath himself. Constricting his anus and inhaling deeply he forced his hips forward, and ever so slowly, his dickhead stretched apart his lover's sphincter. Ever so slowly he penetrated his love, easing his stiff, slender cock into his rectum. He paused to catch his breath and then continued to press forward, easing his cock farther and farther up his lover's ass until all seven- and-a-half inches were stuffed up his hot, moist rectum and his curly sandy-blond hairs were pressing against his lover's smooth backside.
His chest heaving with the exertion, he paused to catch his breath once again and to enjoy the sensation of having his cock submerged deep up his lover's bowels, and then the younger boy began to slowly fuck the older. He eased his cock back out as far as the bell-end, and then drove it back in. Balancing on his knees and lower arms, William worked rhythmically, in and out, his long, lanky body draped over the older boy. The hot afternoon sun beat down upon them through the broad leaves of the oak leaving a mottled shadow over his naked back and smooth buttocks. The nineteen-year-old began to sweat with the exertion and with the sexual lust coursing through his veins. At first it beaded on his forehead and his pits grew damp, and then he felt his sweat begin to trickle down his ribs.
Frederick worked his anal muscles in time with William's thrusts and withdrawals, the shorter, softer youth inhaling the forest air now scented by his lover's sweat. He did not mind the odour, and in fact, found the sharp smell of his teenage lover's perspiration stimulating. William's eyes were closed, and as Frederick looked up into the teenager's face, the expression of joy and wonder on his young face and the fluttering of his long, blond eyelashes caused the older boy to tremble with pleasure himself. The boy was beautiful, his sandy-blond hair, his aristocratic nose, his long, sexy eyelashes and his sensuous lips justifying his nickname His Sighness. As the boy's cock struck his prostate over and over, the young Lord felt his own lust beginning to well up in his groin.
William began to fuck faster, the need to satisfy the itch in his bell-end overriding all else. He began to sweat more profusely, and his naked body glowed with the heat of lust. He worked his hips to and fro quickly, eager now for the climax that he knew was not far behind. A little firecrest with its fiery orange plumage and striking double white eye-strip and bold black stripes flitted from branch to branch above the rutting boys. Two little red squirrels chased each other playfully, darting across the outspread limbs of the ancient oak beneath which the two naked youths were fiercely thrusting their hips. A tiny tricoloured shrew rooted about in the undergrowth for food and the rat-tat-tat of a great spotted woodpecker echoed through the ancient primeval forest. To the forest creatures, the two human animals rutting in the primeval forest were nothing more than two more creatures following one of nature's basic drives.
The boys gasped and grunted as they approached their orgasms. Eager to satisfy their own desires besides please their partner, the two boys thrust their hips to and fro, fucking for the pure pleasure of fucking, a pleasure that only men can know. Their swollen cocks grew numb once again, but this time the pulsating pleasure throbbing through their irritated organs was dull and prolonged, feeling as if their numbed organs had gone to sleep. Their breathing grew more and more laboured until the pressure building up in their loins reached the breaking point.
"Fuck," gasped Frederick. "I'm about to chuck my muck."
In response, William thrust his cock deep up Frederick's rectum and threw back his head with a whimper of that sweet pain that only a man can know. His semen raced up the core of his benumbed cock and shot out of his jap's eye, filling his love's hole with his creamy load. At the same time Frederick released his second load, his thick, white cream shooting out of his madly twitching cock and lacing his body with ribbons of hot cum. The first streamer flew through the air and landed across his hairy chest quickly followed by a second and a third. A fourth and fifth laced his ribs, and the last laced his stomach.
The two boys quivered and sighed, and snorted and gasped, their naked bodies raked with that unique pleasure. It took longer for them to recover, and when William finally did sit back, his dick had gone limp. Frederick lowered his legs, and although they had been thrown up over his head for so long, he was too pumped up to feel weary. William flicked up a streamer of his love's cum and slipped it in his mouth. Pursing his lips as he withdrew his finger, the teenage boy savoured the delightful taste and texture of his lover's load as he flicked up a second streamer and offered it to him. Sucking his spoof off William's finger, Frederick reached up and drew the teenager down to him. The forest air was filled now with the scent of spilt cum and sweat as the two boys lay there in silence and with thoughts of only each other.
"My mother and father will be in London overnight tomorrow," Frederick observed some time later as the boys began to get dressed. "Can you come over to the Manor?"
"Overnight you say," William said with a grin. "I'll pack my pajamas."
"Don't bother, luv," Frederick replied. "I plan on ravishing you all night."
"Then I'll come over and cook you a large dinner to give you plenty of energy."
"Mmm, 'ow about your famous chicken paella with parsley and lemon slices?" asked Frederick, referring to a promo picture taken of William and a classmate in their cooking class at Eton for his eighteenth birthday spread. "While it's in the oven perhaps we can bake something in yours," the older youth suggested, patting William's backside.
"Sounds like a good idea to me," he responded slipping his arms under Frederick's shirt before he buttoned it and drawing him close. The two kissed and William pressed his smooth chest against the curly chest hairs of his lover.
"Want to stop at the chippy at Tetbury on the way back? Or maybe a pub for a jar?"
"All this exercise in the fresh air has given me an appetite," William responded, "but let's not take the chance. Don't want the press seeing us together too often or they'll start getting ideas, if for no other reason than creating some juicy gossip to sell their rags."
"You better Adam and Eve it mate."
The boys kissed and embraced one last time before heading back along the paths from whence they'd come. William was not sure where this affair with Frederick would lead, or what it would mean in the future Considering that his great-grandmother was a hundred, and his grandmother had just turned seventy-five, the day when he'd become king was going to be a long way off. Perhaps by then that men were capable of loving each other would be accepted by others. Perhaps by then sex between men would no longer be considered a sin and a deviation.
Even if things didn't change, it was not as if he would be the first King of England who was gay. The history books tended to ignore the real relationship between Edward II and the knight Piers Gaveston twenty-four generations ago, but there were plenty of references to their love for each other if one took the effort to look for them, and William had. Besides Edward, there was James I, his twelve-times great-grandfather, who ironically had his name given to the version of the Bible written during his reign and used worldwide now. A lesser known fact was that the boy-king had taken his first lover, his cousin Esme Stuart who was thirty-something at the time, when he was only thirteen. So, there was precedent.
As he headed back up the narrow farmer's track toward Blackpool Bridge, his electronic bracelet once more about his wrist, the handsome nineteen-year-old youth took out his shades and slipped them on. With the taste of his lover's cock on his lips and a load of his lover's cum up his rectum to remind him of the curly-headed youth, all was right with the world. The teenage prince slipped his hand down the front of his khaki's and in the Bumfloss hipsters and squeezed his now limp, sticky cock as he thought about the afternoon, and of being with his lover again tomorrow night.
He inhaled the fresh forest air and paused to admire the pinkish flowers of the Herb- Robert growing along the edge of the forest. Somewhere in the dense, ancient hunting forest came the loud, harsh call of a jay. It was a beautiful, warm afternoon in the Cotswolds, a beautiful day for a stroll in the woods and a clandestine rendezvous with a lover. It was a great day to be young and gay and in love.