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    @esthy@esthy
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    Letz see how itz goes…. Next plz

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    queenprecious1queenprecious1
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    Ride on pls

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    #1424188 Reply
    @Appleboi@Appleboi
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    Episode 3
    Hi, beauties! This ^ is the new portrayal of Vincent. Y’all have no idea how hard it was to find someone that fits this a-----e, but Adam will do just fine.
    Vincent
    As the Prince of Wales and Duke of York, I knew that I would eventually have to bring an heir into this world. With that future destined for me, I made a mental note to myself that I would allow my child to do whatever they wanted, so long as it was legal, particularly for their birthdays. No matter the age, a person’s birthday should be a day solely dedicated to them. They should at least be allowed to do the one thing that they found peace in doing. For me, that was being in the air.
    I found so much peace with being in the air. Whether it was being in a hot-air balloon, para-gliding, or my personal favorite, flying a helicopter. The latter gave me control, something I seem to lack in my daily lifestyle. But it wasn’t just me that didn’t lack control. My 17-year-old sister, Genevieve, and 24-year-old brother, Rodney, lacked just as much control over their lives like myself. I was… a fairly obedient heir, particularly regarding my Royal duties and maintaining a good image in the eyes of the public. However, there was only one thing that I asked of them to ignore and that was my sex life.
    But, of course, my parents never listen when I asked them to mind their business. Like now, my father was standing over my shoulder watching me text a colleague.
    “Pa,” I groaned and immediately locked it once I noticed his looming presence. I wasn’t texting anyone secretly, just Griffin, a fellow friend from the Royal Air Force that undergone training along with me. “Stay out of my phone,” I warned as he chuckled and went around the length of the table.
    Today was Valentine’s Day, and my 27th birthday. God, I was aging faster than whole milk spoils. I remember when I first turned 18, and I could finally drink. My father brought every alcohol brand he knew; nothing cheap, of course. I was born a Prince for a reason. And for that reason, he felt that I deserved top tier quality.
    “I’m just making sure you aren’t messaging any of your whores,” my father replied jokingly, finally sitting his arse down somewhere. I eyed him, my eyes shrinking into narrowed slits. My eyes were already small, to begin with, thanks to my father, but now he has me glaring slitted daggers at him while he laughed at my expression. Nothing was funny about what he just said.
    “Happy Birthday, Your Royal Highness,” I heard a light feminine voice greet before me. Her presence took me out of my aggravation as she set a tall, rectangular box in front of me.
    “Thank you, Abby,” I thanked her and took the present. “Where is, Griffin,” I inquired as Troy, my guard, took the present from me.
    “He’s almost here, I’m certain,” she replied sweetly. Abigail Finch was one of my… friends; one of my long-lasting friends. She had a milky pale complexion from the cold winter that England’s weather brought in, but her hair was a fiery red color. It was a beautiful contrast. Her eyes were hazel, with very visible green flecks adorning her beautiful irises. Her neck was long and constantly reminded me of the many times I’ve left a hickey on her slender throat. Abby had an impressive body, she wasn’t too skinny, but neither was she too big. She was perfect and every time I had sex with her, I would secretly thank Griffin for blessing me by introducing this woman to me. I’m sure she felt that she was most likely to become my wife because we’ve been f-----g for five years now, but there were a few issues.
    One, my parents hated her. Even now, my mother was blatantly glaring at Abby and my father sat beside me with a hard frown as I held Abby’s hand.
    Second, Abby was not Royal material. Her father was the Duke of Swindon, but just because her father had a life peerage title didn’t mean that she was fit to be a Princess or a Queen. She was just sloppy. Very sloppy. She’s been on the news countless times for DUIs, getting into arguments
    and constantly saying some questionable things on her social media. Even I had to side-eye her sometimes.
    STORY CONTINUES BELOW
    Third, Abby was in a public relationship with Andrew Garrison, an older English actor that I didn’t pay too much attention to. He was actually at this party as we speak, but I didn’t see him so it didn’t matter.
    “What are you doing tonight,” I meddled quietly, slowly releasing her soft hand.
    “Nothing important,” she insisted slyly until my father loudly cleared his throat in irritation.
    I gave him a quick look before turning back to Abby. “I’ll text you, Love. Tell Andy I said thanks for coming,” I told her, receiving a sensual smirk in return.
    When she was no longer in earshot, my father felt the need to comment. “You’re lucky he’s just an actor and that you’re my son. Otherwise, he would have given you a run for your money for sleeping with his woman,” my father surmised.
    “He won’t find out, Pa,” I waved off as I stared at the large crowd mingling and conversing in their formal attire. The night was ending soon, and I couldn’t wait to get away from this crowd.
    “Sure he won’t. When are you going to get rid of that hag?” My father interrogated with a stoic frown.
    “What for,” I chuckled. I knew he was serious. The public never caught me with a woman on my arm, but my family and the castle staff assumed I slept with over twenty women. And I can assure you, it’s really a lot more than that if we’re counting since I’ve been sexually active.
    I wasn’t as bad as I was when I was in my early twenties. Now that I think of it, it was a day where I f----d two women; one in the morning and the other after lunch. Followed by a threesome with a beautiful Victoria’s Secret model and her best friend later that evening. Don’t ask me about names because I promise I won’t recall.
    “Vincent, you need to get married soon and bring a new heir into the family. Stop messing around with these women who don’t respect themselves,” my father lectured.
    “Or cherish the power between their legs,” my mother quickly chimed in.
    “Mimi,” my father hissed, using her nickname for Miranda. He was the only one I’ve ever heard call her that.
    “Am I wrong, Matt? Everyone knows that the power behind a successful King is a Queen with a powerful core.” Were they flirting? My mother, Queen Miranda, was a poise and confident woman who wasn’t afraid to inject her thoughts into any conversation. My father, King Mathias of the United Kingdom, was like her protector. I’ve seen his intimidating stature turn into jelly at the slightest call that my mother made. And it made me sick with envy because I wasn’t certain that I’d have that with my future wife.
    “Well, let’s see how-,” I hastily interrupted them.
    “I’m going to go throw up now,” I stated, not bothering to hide my disgust. They both glanced at me, remembering that I was there.
    “But Vincent, on a serious note, your mother and I want to see you experience fatherhood and marriage with a beautiful blonde Queen by-,” I cut him off once again.
    “Blonde?”
    “Well, she doesn’t have to be. She can be a brunette too,” my mother retorted.
    “I’m confused. Does she only have to be white? Can she be Spanish, Asian… African? If I brought home a woman like that, would you lot be happy for me?” I quizzed them. I’ve been with so many women of distinct races and ethnicities, I wanted to know what their views were.1. Well, we would prefer for the British bloodline to stay pure so we would hope you aren’t trying to… darken things.” My father really tried to say that as non-offensively as he could. But despite how he said it, he was right. I wanted to keep the British blood pure…..

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    #1424189 Reply
    @Appleboi@Appleboi
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    #1424225 Reply
    daniel wiredaniel wire
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    bad prince @appleboi roger on

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    #1424378 Reply
    Ba TundeBa Tunde
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    let go bro

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    #1424418 Reply
    @Appleboi@Appleboi
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    Episode 4
    understand,” and I did. Keeping our offspring as pure Brits seemed to have been very important to my family, especially my paternal grandmother, the Queen Dowager. She was really the number one reason I made sure that I didn’t act a fool in the media. She was always watching us, and her criticism was the worse I’ve ever experienced. And this is coming from the Prince of Wales, Duke of York, and King of assholes. She was the only person who made me cry, angrily. But I still respected her, she was my grandmother, after all.
    And to tie back to it, I couldn’t see myself being married to a woman outside of my race. Spanish women were very sexy, but way too feisty. With how quick-tempered they are, I don’t think it would work with everything my wife would have to do, as a Princess and as a Queen. Asian women were too soft and meek for me, and I didn’t want a meek woman to be by my side. She needed to be outspoken and be able to defend herself ad hoc. Black women… oh man. How do I word this one without sounding like a d--k? Oh, to hell with it, Black women were an aggressive breed of women. I couldn’t sleep with a Black woman because every time I had the chance, the attitude written on her face steered me clear of her. And I didn’t need an intimidating Queen; I needed someone that people loved, not feared.
    And that’s why finding a wife was such a hard task for me to do. My parents wanted me to focus more on courting women instead of just s------g them, but I just couldn’t. There wasn’t a woman that I’ve met that possessed that regal factor or one that I really liked. They usually had beautiful and very useful bodies, but not the personalities that would be compatible with mine. It was going to be very difficult to find a woman that was Queenly but could also match my a-----e energy in private.
    “I appreciate you for understanding,” my father suddenly remarked, yanking me out of my thoughts.
    “I do what I can to make sure we don’t look bad,” I replied somberly. “And in case you’re thinking about it mum, I’m not interested in tainting our British bloodline,” I assured her. She seemed to look tense beside my father until I told her that. Her features visibly softened at my words. My phone suddenly vibrated within my blazer’s inner breast pocket. I took it out and glanced at the message Griffin sent.
    Griff: We’re here, mate. Come outside it’s cold as bullocks out here
    “Mum, Pa,” I proclaimed as I stood up to stretch. “I’m going to call it a night. I loved the celebration and I really appreciate the staff’s efforts, but I am truly beat,” I convinced as I kissed my mother’s cheek and pat my father on his shoulder. My siblings, Rod and Genny, weren’t present, but I’m sure they won’t miss me.
    “Vincent,” I heard my mother calling after me as I stepped down the raised platform they set our table upon. I loved her, but Griffin was bringing me a d--n good gift tonight and I wasn’t trying to miss it. I already spent a good six months without sex at the Air Force base, so I deserved this.
    I left through the emergency exit door of Waterloo Chambers and hurried to the end where Griffin had been waiting. “Griff,” I raised my arms proudly as I made my way over to his car, a huge grin on my face.
    “There goes the cheeky bastard,” Griffin greeted as we clapped our hands and pulled each other into a brotherly hug, patting each other on the back.
    I pulled away from him and examined his attire. “You look like the same annoying bastard I’ve been dealing with on Base for the past six months. Don’t you know I’m sick of seeing you by now?” I joked as he chuckled. My eyes averted from him and landed on a beautiful woman that had been leaning against his Mercedes. “And who is this…,” I took her hand and spun her around, noting her very ample breasts and her slender figure. “Gorgeous woman,” I finished as I bit my lip, amused and h---y. She was a beautiful, Olive-toned woman with long, dark curls that cascaded down her backless blue dress. Her lips were full andand pink, while her eyes were a deep brown. And f--k me… were those freckles on her cheeks? This woman was a goddess.
    STORY CONTINUES BELOW
    “Anais. Anais Moretti,” she answered in the hottest f-----g Spanish accent I’ve ever heard.
    “Anais,” I tried out her name on my English tongue. “Very fitting,” I chuckled hoarsely as I pulled her into my arms. She batted her eyelashes sensuously as she bit her lip.
    “Alright, you two. Let’s go; you can f--k when we get there,” Griffin reminded. “Floyd said he’s almost there and Jennifer just picked up the goods,” he stated, walking over to the other side of his car.
    “Griff, I’m not doing that coke shit anymore,” I reminded him as I opened the door for Anais to get in.
    “Why not?”
    “I didn’t like it the first time I took it. And besides, you fuckers put me up to it,” I reminded them as we settled into his car.
    “Peer pressure, my friend. You either apply pressure or take the heat,” he retorted as he drove off of the castle’s property.
    On our way to Floyd’s Estate, just outside of Slough, Ana lit a blunt and began passing it around the car. Luckily, Griff’s windows were tinted enough because I couldn’t even imagine the amount of trouble I’d be in if I got caught. The Prince of Wales, Duke of York, and Flight Lieutenant for the Royal Air Force got caught smoking weed on his birthday. My family probably would disown me, but who knows. They have never caught me doing half the shit I already do now.
    We eventually made it to Floyd’s Estate, getting there at the same time as Jennifer, and notably, Abigail was with her. We all greeted one another; Abby with a kiss to my neck as she eyed Anais with jealousy.
    “Abby, Love, there’s more than enough to go around. No need to get jealous,” I cooed and interlocked her hands with mine. I planted a quick kiss on her forehead for assurance, feeling the high from the Cannabis beginning to take its effects.
    “Don’t worry, mi amor… I like women too,” Anais informed with a confident wink and a blow of a kiss. Oh, she was my type of woman. We all finally headed into the house.
    Unlike Floyd and Griffin, I didn’t agree to come out here to do drugs. Griffin promised me a hottie, and Floyd supplied the place for all of this to safely go down. I really appreciated the effort that my family and Royal Household did for my birthday. But being in bed with not one, but two beautiful women was my ideal way of spending my 27th birthday, or any birthday, for that matter. Abby and Ana were a literal match made in heaven. I stared at them from the large bathroom mirror that had a great visual of the bed.
    The two women were kissing; Ana being the more dominant one as she broke the kiss and feverishly began s-----g on Abby’s milky breasts. Watching her do it made me want to remind myself of what her bright pink nipples tasted like. I finished examining my bloodshot eyes and made my way to join them. Just as I settled on the bed with the two naked women, Abby changed their positions, giving Ana all the pleasure this time.
    I grabbed Ana’s smooth jaw as she tilted her neck back in ecstasy. My finger found its way between her pink folds as I s----d on her neck. Her loud moan was a good sign that I easily found her sensitive area. This is usually how my threesomes went with Abby. We would tag-team the third party until they came first. And that’s exactly what my little Spanish Princess did. She came, loudly screaming as she threw her head against my shoulder, her back leaned into my chest.
    I pulled my fingers out of her wet center and brought them to her mouth to taste. She did so, s-----g on my fingers like I imagined she would a c--k. “You like that, baby,” I moaned into her ear before planting light kisses along her neck. But then, she suddenly turned her head in my direction.
    Woah! Did she try to f-----g kiss me? Was this woman mad?!
    There was only one woman that I kissed rarely, and that was Abigail herself. Besides her, of all the countless women I’ve f----d, I have kissed none of them. Not a single one. Kissing women was like giving them the false hope that you two would pursue a serious relationship. It’s a very intimate moment, but with Abby, it was nothing like that. She understood what she was to me and what I was to her. Five years in and we had no problems with this. But for most women, you kiss them and they throw the ‘what are we’ question.
    You’re a good lay, and I’m out of here.
    That was the response I gave to the first few women that I made that kissing mistake with. Abby was a consistent lay; Ana was a one-hit-wonder. That’s the difference. If you really knew me, you’d know that one-hit-wonders don’t deserve kisses.
    I backed away from Ana as she leaned in to kiss me again. She apparently didn’t get the message as she tried to lean in, for the third time, until I shoved her back by her shoulders. “Abby, did you or did you not tell Anais what to never do while in bed with me,” I challenged sternly. Abby pulled away from Ana’s left breast to stare at me, befuddled.
    “Oh, oh my. Ana, he doesn’t like kissing,” she revealed, startled as she realized the situation.
    “What,” Ana objected incredulously, “are you bi?”
    “What? No. I don’t kiss one-hit-wonders though,” I retorted until I felt a stinging slap assault my cheek. Instinctively, I shoved her off of me, unintentionally pushing her into Abby.
    “What the f--k is your problem,” she spat angrily.
    “You f-----g hit me, you f-----g w---e,” I shouted back.
    “Hey, calm down! Both of you,” Abby tried diffusing the situation.
    “Te lo mereciste, cabrón,” I heard her shout furiously in her mother tongue as I rose out of bed to grab my robe. How the hell did I deserve that?
    “No, b---h ! You deserve to get kicked the f--k out,” I yelled back. I was too high to deal with this shit.
    “What’s going on,” Griffin questioned confused as he busted into the room, causing both women to cover up with the duvet.
    “Griff, get her the f--k out of here before I toss the s--t,” I threatened dangerously, knowing well that my usual blue eyes were a fierce grey. I was no longer in the mood to get my d--k wet. Tonight was just clear cut proof of my premonition of Spanish women; they’re too f-----g feisty….

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    understand,” and I did. Keure Brits seemed to have been very important to my family, especially my paternal grandmother, the Queen Dowager. She was really the number one reason I made sure that I didn’t act a fool in the media. She was always watching us, and her criticism was the worse I’ve ever experienced. And this is coming from the Prince of Wales, Duke of York, and King of assholes. She was the only person who made me cry, angrily. But I still respected her, she was my grandmother, after all.
    And to tie back to it, I couldn’t see myself being married to a woman outside of my race. Spanish women were very sexy, but way too feisty. With how quick-tempered they are, I don’t think it would work with everything my wife would have to do, as a Princess and as a Queen. Asian women were too soft and meek for me, and I didn’t want a meek woman to be by my side. She needed to be outspoken and be able to defend herself ad hoc. Black women… oh man. How do I word this one without sounding like a d--k? Oh, to hell with it, Black women were an aggressive breed of women. I couldn’t sleep with a Black woman because every time I had the chance, the attitude written on her face steered me clear of her. And I didn’t need an intimidating Queen; I needed someone that people loved, not feared.
    And that’s why finding a wife was such a hard task for me to do. My parents wanted me to focus more on courting women instead of just s------g them, but I just couldn’t. There wasn’t a woman that I’ve met that possessed that regal factor or one that I really liked. They usually had beautiful and very useful bodies, but not the personalities that would be compatible with mine. It was going to be very difficult to find a woman that was Queenly but could also match my a-----e energy in private.
    “I appreciate you for understanding,” my father suddenly remarked, yanking me out of my thoughts.
    “I do what I can to make sure we don’t look bad,” I replied somberly. “And in case you’re thinking about it mum, I’m not interested in tainting our British bloodline,” I assured her. She seemed to look tense beside my father until I told her that. Her features visibly softened at my words. My phone suddenly vibrated within my blazer’s inner breast pocket. I took it out and glanced at the message Griffin sent.
    Griff: We’re here, mate. Come outside it’s cold as bullocks out here
    “Mum, Pa,” I proclaimed as I stood up to stretch. “I’m going to call it a night. I loved the celebration and I really appreciate the staff’s efforts, but I am truly beat,” I convinced as I kissed my mother’s cheek and pat my father on his shoulder. My siblings, Rod and Genny, weren’t present, but I’m sure they won’t miss me.
    “Vincent,” I heard my mother calling after me as I stepped down the raised platform they set our table upon. I loved her, but Griffin was bringing me a d--n good gift tonight and I wasn’t trying to miss it. I already spent a good six months without sex at the Air Force base, so I deserved this.
    I left through the emergency exit door of Waterloo Chambers and hurried to the end where Griffin had been waiting. “Griff,” I raised my arms proudly as I made my way over to his car, a huge grin on my face.
    “There goes the cheeky bastard,” Griffin greeted as we clapped our hands and pulled each other into a brotherly hug, patting each other on the back.
    I pulled away from him and examined his attire. “You look like the same annoying bastard I’ve been dealing with on Base for the past six months. Don’t you know I’m sick of seeing you by now?” I joked as he chuckled. My eyes averted from him and landed on a beautiful woman that had been leaning against his Mercedes. “And who is this…,” I took her hand and spun her around, noting her very ample breasts and her slender figure. “Gorgeous woman,” I finished as I bit my lip, amused and h---y. She was a beautiful, Olive-toned woman with long, dark curls that cascaded down her backless blue dress. Her lips were full andand pink, while her eyes were a deep brown. And f--k me… were those freckles on her cheeks? This woman was a goddess.
    STORY CONTINUES BELOW
    “Anais. Anais Moretti,” she answered in the hottest f-----g Spanish accent I’ve ever heard.
    “Anais,” I tried out her name on my English tongue. “Very fitting,” I chuckled hoarsely as I pulled her into my arms. She batted her eyelashes sensuously as she bit her lip.
    “Alright, you two. Let’s go; you can f--k when we get there,” Griffin reminded. “Floyd said he’s almost there and Jennifer just picked up the goods,” he stated, walking over to the other side of his car.
    “Griff, I’m not doing that coke shit anymore,” I reminded him as I opened the door for Anais to get in.
    “Why not?”
    “I didn’t like it the first time I took it. And besides, you fuckers put me up to it,” I reminded them as we settled into his car.
    “Peer pressure, my friend. You either apply pressure or take the heat,” he retorted as he drove off of the castle’s property.
    On our way to Floyd’s Estate, just outside of Slough, Ana lit a blunt and began passing it around the car. Luckily, Griff’s windows were tinted enough because I couldn’t even imagine the amount of trouble I’d be in if I got caught. The Prince of Wales, Duke of York, and Flight Lieutenant for the Royal Air Force got caught smoking weed on his birthday. My family probably would disown me, but who knows. They have never caught me doing half t

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