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    Episode 7
    “Aww, thanks,” I chimed, about to accept the umbrella.
    “Your Royal Highness. We can get her a different one,” the annoying guard held the umbrella.
    “Hank, it’s fine. I have plenty more,” he snatched the umbrella out of the guard’s hand and extended it to me once again. This time I quickly grabbed it. That bastard wouldn’t try it again f-----g with me. I wouldn’t let him get the chance.
    “Thank you, Sir,” I bowed, “I’ll be heading home now.”
    “Hank, come with me. John, please escort her to the exit gate. Ma’am, it was very nice meeting you,” he confided as he took my hand and gently kissed the back of it. Oh, this was definitely a prince!
    He wasn’t really my cup of tea, but that was flattering. I’ve never had a man kiss my hand like that before so I was definitely acting like a fangirl and embarrassing myself. “I mean… Mmm… I mean,” I gushed sheepishly as he smiled. “Thanks, Sir. Same to you,” I finally got out as I smiled at him. Well, shit, he was a little cutie. God, don’t make me turn a Prince’s world upside-down.
    He smiled even wider and nodded his farewell.
    I turned to leave the castle with the Prince’s umbrella, their Royal insignia was visible on the handle.
    “Sir,” I called to the new guard that was escorting me. “Which prince was that one,” I asked, hoping to diminish my ignorance with some knowledge.
    “That was Prince Rodney, Duke of Sussex,” he informed without a problem. “Trust me, neither of them are that nice,” he chuckled. D--n, I thought I was a Disney Princess for two seconds. I guess reality’s not meant for the weak-minded.
    When I finally made it back to London, it was still midday and pouring down with rain. Because it was still pouring pretty badly, I took a taxi from the bus stop since it was still a ways away from our townhouse. Once I arrived at the house, I paid the cab driver the fare and thanked him before rushing out of the rain.
    I unlocked the door and leaned against it with a sigh. My suit pants and the flats that I changed into were soaked. Even my purse’s exterior was saturated from the rain hitting me sideways. What was the purpose of an umbrella if it didn’t do its job against the rain?
    I left that question to float in the back of my mind and went upstairs to take a shower. As I approached my closed room door, I noticed a taped note. I snatched it off the door and read it thoroughly. The more my eyes registered every word he wrote, the angrier I felt.
    You’re going to hate me and I understand why but I can’t live here anymore. I’m not making any income here and it’s really f-----g with my mind that we don’t know what happened to mom and pops. I really can’t rest in this shit-hole without taking initiative to find out. Please don’t follow me to New York until you’re ready. I don’t want you to get involved in what I may or may not do to make a living out there. But just know, I love you my G.
    I crumpled up the letter and immediately dialed his number. If he doesn’t answer, then he just lost a f-----g sister.
    “Shadé,” he solemnly answered on the third ring. His background was very noisy.
    “You stupid son-of-a-b---h! I f-----g hate you,” I cried into the receiver.
    “Don’t get loud with me, Shadé. I hate when people yell at me,” he dared to reply with that.
    “You f-----g left me, Ezra! I’m not in the f-----g wrong here,” I shouted, regardless of what he said.
    “Sis, you will be fine. You’re a Black woman,
    the strongest kind of woman out here,” he countered calmly as I dropped to the floor sobbing, my head in my hand. “Please don’t follow me out here until you’re financially comfortable,” he begged as I heard an announcement for Group B to board a flight in the background.
    “But Ezra, why are you leaving me here? You’re not f-----g financially stable your d--n self,” I angrily argued, my voice beginning to rise.
    “Let me be the foundation, Shadé. When you come to New York, you’ll have a place to lay your head. I promise,” he affirmed, still maintaining his calm demeanor. “I love you—.”
    I hung the phone and threw it across the room. The second it landed, I immediately went into an angry panic, hoping that I didn’t break it. “Oh shit,” I groaned as I picked up the phone, screen cracked and unresponsive. Great, Shadé, now we have to get a new phone. Just f-----g great.
    I sat on the floor and leaned against my bed, thinking about what I was going to do. Ezra told me not to chase him, but it’s easy for him to say when he just up and left. And I could probably leave as well but I didn’t want to go back to New York in an even worse state than I was before. Unlike Ezra, I couldn’t just go back and hop back into the drug industry. God, it pissed me off even more because he tried so hard to keep that hidden from me. Did he think I was stupid?
    “I’m going to start over.” I made a promise to myself. By God’s will, I’ll get this job at the Royal Household, get a one-year work visa, and when the year is over, I’ll return to New York and start from scratch. Will I see Ezra again? I don’t f-----g know. What about my dad? I hope so. Mama Grace? I wish. And my mom? I don’t know how to answer that.
    I pulled my knees up to my chin and cried even harder as I heard another wave of rain pummeling the roof. I was literally alone.

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    Episode 8
    Guess who came back like a f-----g Hot-Pocket-W---e? Ms. Anais Spicy Moretti. I had the beautiful Spanish woman on my bed on all fours, ramming into her arse at a rhythmic motion. She moaned my name pleasurably as she clutched the sheets.
    I leaned forward a bit to cup and massage one of her large breasts. She arched her back, deep enough to lean backward and kiss my neck. I grabbed her chin and stared at her intensely, hoping she won’t f--k up like she did last time. I honestly loved seeing the look on their faces while I f----d them but obviously some thought it as the moment to kiss. Provided that they don’t make that mistake, it was almost like watching your favorite movie. You enjoy every aspect. However, like any old movie, it gets boring and you get the need to watch something else.
    I pushed her back onto her hands and f----d her harder, the sound of her arse smacking against my thighs was like music to my ears.
    “Uh uh oh! Vincent… ahh,” she moaned as she arched her back deeper. I smacked her arse, leaving a lovely red bruise on her soft cheek as I held her down by her slim waist.
    As I felt myself about to come, I pulled out and gestured for her to turn around and pulled her hair out of her face. I quickly pulled off the rubber before pumping the long s---t of my curving d--k.
    She closed her eyes and opened her mouth, awaiting my load on her tongue. Her anticipation turned me on even more.
    I held her dark hair in my left hand and continued pumping the semen out of my c--k with my right. It only took a few seconds before my c-m went spewing onto her gorgeous face, her hair, and into her mouth.
    That’s a lot of babies she’s swallowing.
    I laughed at that thought and released my grasp on her hair. She licked the rest of my load off of her face before standing up and heading to the bathroom. I lied back on my bed and stared blankly at the ceiling of my canopy.
    As Ana stepped out of the bathroom with a clean face, she came into bed beside me and placed her leg over my abdomen. Her slender finger traced my abs as she kissed my chest.
    “Now that was an apology,” she effused, very satisfied with my service. I looked down at her, duly noting that she definitely wasn’t a wife.
    “I can agree. It’s the only apology I’ll take from a woman,” I disclosed, bringing my forehead to hers before kissing her forehead.
    “So you forgive me, daddy,” she moaned as she kissed my neck.
    “Of course, Love,” I chuckled awkwardly, mentally cringing at the word ‘daddy’. It was just something about that word that didn’t sit well with me when women called me that. I looked at my phone’s lock screen to notice the time. “Aww shit,” I cursed as I hurriedly rushed out of bed.
    She smiled as she bit her bottom lip. “You don’t want to go another round before you leave,” she asked me sweetly.
    I didn’t have a problem with sleeping with a woman more than once. I would’ve f----d her again if I didn’t have an interview with Taliah Hendry in two hours. And even then, I still have to shower and get ready. “I’d love to, babe, but I have something very important that I must attend to,” I informed, planting a quick kiss on her forehead. She pouted but nodded anyway.
    After a warm shower and Ana’s departure, I called up three maids to get me dressed. I didn’t need them to, but it was always optional, so why not take that option?
    The three maids were all brunettes. However, one of them stood out from the other two. I remember her pretty face all too well because I’ve slept with her in the past… a few times. Dammit. I know I remembered her name. It was Tina… no. Teresa…no, but I remember that name from somewhere. Tiffany! Her name was Tiffany.

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    #1426138 Reply
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    Nice one .

    Ride on.

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    Episode 9
    Although she was a maid, I want to point out she was the only maid that I’ve ever slept with. I’m serious. I don’t sleep with maids because I have higher standards for the women I sleep with. If you haven’t noticed, I usually slept with models, the daughters of billionaires, and a few of the daughters from the House of Lords. These women were just as private as me and they had no problem with opening their long legs for me.
    The maidens, or housekeeping staff, are middle-class and basic women; at least that’s how I’ve always seen them. Generally, I don’t have an issue with these ladies. However, when they flirt with me, I try to decline their advances as politely as possible. At this point in my life, I’m not fond of bringing upon any drama when I know I should find a wife. I’m not the same 21-year-old man that I was, openly accepting women of any status. It definitely mattered now.
    Not only status but the personality also mattered as well and Tiffany was a very lackluster person to talk to. Believe it or not, but I really love talking and listening to what the other party has to say. The first time I tried to strike up a conversation with Tiffany, her response was so dim-witted, I felt like I was losing brain cells as I listened to her elaborate on her experiences in the castle. She had only been there for six months at the time so I thought I’d get more out of her, but I guess not. I just concluded her as a decent f--k and never tried having a conversation with her again. Just f-----g, no talking. However, I eventually had to stop fooling around with her. And ever since then, she’s always given me this nasty glare. Sometimes I felt like she was thinking of murdering me in my sleep with a blunt kitchen knife, just to make it more painful. That explains why my bedroom door is always guarded.
    “Good afternoon, Your Royal Highness,” they all greeted with a bow.
    “Good afternoon, ladies,” I cleared my throat. “I have an interview at three, so I have to look exceptional,” I informed them. I had to look good whenever I’m on television. Not only was it because I was the Prince of Wales, but because I was almost certain that my future wife could be watching the interview.
    As the maids were fitting me into my three-piece suit, I heard a knock from my door followed by Troy announcing that my uncle Landon was here. “Come in,” I bellowed. The doors suddenly opened for my Uncle Lance and his wife, Antoinette, or Nettie.
    By blood, Lance was a part of the Royal Family and was my father’s youngest brother after my uncle Edward. He didn’t possess a Royal peerage title because he essentially gave up his Royal duties as Duke of Edinburgh to be with his wife in France. Antoinette was the daughter of the 20th Liberian President. They’d been together for over 30 years, even before my parents got married. They met at Oxford University, where Antoinette attended as one of the very few African students.
    If it’s one thing I will mention about Nettie is that she aged like wine. She and Lance were the same age, literally sharing a birthday and all. Yet, she looked a good fifteen years his junior, making him look as if he is married someone much younger than him.
    Unfortunately, the Queen Mother and King Lionel, my grandparents, didn’t approve of Lance’s relationship. He died not approving of her, which caused some tension between the Liberian President and my family. But Lance, being the dignified man that he is, left the family by title and hadn’t returned to England until King Lionel’s funeral. Lance really shook the table when he came back to England happily married to Antoinette after so many people wished negativity on them.
    And just as happy as they usually are, their happiness together was radiating a lot of positive energy into my room.
    “Your Royal Highness,” they both bowed before taking a seat in my lounge area.
    “How do you feel, Vincent,” Nettie asked first, her voice was rather calm.
    “I feel okay, not quite nervous but you never know what bogus questions she’ll as,” I replied as I look at them both through the mirror. I haven’t been in an interview the entire time I was at the Air Force base.

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    Episode 10
    “Have you been adamantly looking for a wife,” Lance challenged, rolling the d--n boulder right at me.
    “I have, but they all end up sleeping with me too easily. If they’re going to be that eager for sex, they can get that anywhere,” I explained, annoyed at the realization.
    “Maybe you’re not trying to get to know them. Women like to be heard, Vince,” Nettie chimed in.
    “And I love to listen, as long as it’s not rubbish. Yet every time I try, that’s all that comes out of their mouths!” It exasperated me at this point. I didn’t want to marry a d--n bird brain.
    “How about this, the next woman that interests you in the slightest, you’ll try to get to know her first before knocking the boots,” Lance suggested. It wasn’t a bet, and I knew that. It was a test of my self-control. Could I really court a woman before getting physical with her first?
    “You’re challenging me again, uncle,” I chuckled inwardly as I turned around to face them.
    “I have to. Your father won’t do it,” he mentioned most offensively as he laughed audibly. I joined him, realizing he was right.
    “Ladies, you’re dismissed. Thank you,” I announced to the maids as they lingered with their heads down and hands folded behind their backs.
    “Thank you, Your Royal Highness,” the women chorused. This time, I was fairly impressed with the harmony. I watched as the three women prepared to leave and without a doubt, Tiffany shot me a menacing glare. I raised an eyebrow at her strange response. The moment they were no longer in the room, I joined my aunt and uncle on the armchair across from them. “One of those maids really hates me,” I murmured irately.
    “You slept with her and left her in the dust, what do you expect,” Nettie commented and Lance’s eyes went wide. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she apologized as she quickly gave me away. “I didn’t mean to read you but your face tells me a lot, Vincent,” she apologized sincerely.
    “It’s fine, Nettie,” I dismissed, but then something came to my mind. “If you can read my face, can you tell me about my future wife; if I’ll even have one,” I motioned impatiently.
    Nettie shook her head. What did that mean? Was I getting f-----g married or not?!
    “For this one, I’ll let her decide if she wants to deal with you or not,” she laughed.
    Before I could respond, Troy came into the room to notify me that Taliah and her team are all set up. “We’re not done here, Nettie,” I pointed at her jokingly as I followed Troy out of my chambers. They set the interview in the King’s Drawing room. As I entered, the entire room averted their attention to me and all sincerely bowed.
    “Good afternoon, Your Royal Highness! My name is Taliah Hendry and I’ll be your interviewer today. It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you,” she introduced herself respectfully. We firmly shook hands before gesturing for me to have a seat. I sat in the off-white armchair across from her as we continued to have a brief conversation. She was a charming woman of some middle-eastern background; I would assume Indian if I had to guess. Once we’d gotten comfortable and Taliah’s makeup had gotten touched up, the producer notified us they would go live in three, two, one.
    “Good evening, England! I’m Taliah Hendry and tonight on this episode of Talks with Tal, we have our very own Vincent, Prince of Wales,” she introduced in a very charismatic tone.
    “Hi,” I greeted as I kept my gaze on the bright TV host. She sent a friendly smile my way, and I returned it.
    “So before we begin, are there any questions off limit to you,” she asked for verification.
    “Nope, shoot me with everything you’ve got,” I leaned into my chair and clasped my hands.
    “Okay. Foremost, you’ve just gotten out of a six-month deployment from the Royal Air Force as a Flight Lieutenant. What are your plans now that you’re back home?” She asked the first question on her card. That wasn’t bad.

    #1428786 Reply
    daniel wiredaniel wire
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    Love story @appleboi Roger on

    #1428794 Reply
    Lifēøf Shy GúyLifēøf Shy Gúy
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    Great work bro
    keep it up

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