Date: Thu, 05 Jul 2001 23:12:24
From: Dream Spinner <authorsix@hotmail.com>
Subject: "Rendezvous in the Forest of Dean" (m/m, celeb)

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.