Date: Wed, 11 Oct 2023 01:38:50 +0000 From: jacklynch945 Subject: The Prince The Pauper And the Chief Chapter 16 Can you imagine life without Nifty? Please show your support with contributions to keep the Archive online. You can find out how at http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html This story includes episodes involving underage minors having sex with adults. I expressly condemn this kind of activity. I have made every attempt to present these acts in a thoughtful, sensitive manner. You may not agree. If so, I encourage to avoid reading it. This story mentions real people, real places, and real events, but the characters and the story are entirely fictional. It contains descriptions of sexual interactions between minors and adult men. Your feedback, whether in the form of comments or constructive criticism, will always be welcome. Please email me: jacklynch945@proton.me. The Prince. The Pauper. And the Chief. By Jack Lynch Chapter 16. The Graveyard. Staring into space, his mouth half open. He didn't know what to think. About anything. Left alone, his confident demeanor melted away. "So what? Everybody gets a big yuck out of it. No harm!" That's what he had said. The truth is that he didn't know what everyone would think. What would his parents do when they found out? About him? About Kip Kincaid? He was no longer singular. Wellington Abraham Prince was now a plural. As he tried to get ahold of his emotions, Prince took out a comb and robotically got his hair under control, lastly sweeping his bangs into place across his forehead. "Hey Prince! What's happenin'?" Shaken out of his funk, the world came quickly back into focus. He was still sitting on that bench near the Black Dog. A few minutes ago, Kip had inexplicably jumped up and run off. He looked up and replied, a dull look on his face. "Hi Peachy." David Peter Boo, one of Prince's classmates at Greenwich Country Day. His grandma called him Peachy Boo when he was a fat little baby because he had big round pink cheeks. He grew up, thinned out, lost the cheeks, but kept the name. Peachy was more than a head taller than The Prince. Dark wavy hair, cut a little too long on top and a little too short on the sides. Thin, angular face, a swimmer's toned body. Just like The Prince, Peachy spent his summers on the Vineyard. "We just finished tennis over at West Chop," Peachy said, banging a tennis racket head into his open hand. That's when Prince realized Peachy was dressed in tennis whites and holding a racket, the cover emblazoned with the Wilson logo. Naturally, Prince smirked, the same racket Jimmy Connors used. He looked over at the other guy standing next to Peachy. The other half of "we." Another kid, about the same age, also dressed in tennis whites. "Prince, this is Ross White." Same size as Peachy, long messy bright red hair, a million freckles, twinkling brown mischievous eyes, a bright smile. They bantered a bit, catching up, trading insults, kidding each other. Prince suddenly jumped up. "I gotta meet my folks." Still chattering away, the two boys followed Prince as he walked back up the dock, along Beach Street for a bit more than a block, turning right onto Main Street. Parked diagonally up the street, Prince could see Isaac and his dad in the middle of the block, slouched against the fender of the Volvo station wagon. "Hey, Prince. `You wanna come with us?" Peachy asked. "Where ya going?" "Out to the Scottish Bakehouse for a snack. Ross's grandma owns it." "Hmmm. Sounds pretty good." The prospect of delicious sweets was too enticing, even after finishing a big breakfast. When Prince announced his intentions, his dad casually shrugged his shoulders. "Call if you need a ride back home." The three boys dodged traffic as they crossed Main Street, passing in front of the Capawock Theatre and around the corner to a row of bikes. "Cool beans!" The Prince gazed in admiration at the BMX Mongoose Ross was unlocking from the bike rack. Raised handlebars, blue chrome frame, and wide blue tires. Every twelve-year-old's dream. He'd seen pictures of the California creations in a magazine, but never one in person. "Ride with me, Prince," Peachy said as he straddled his Schwinn Sting-ray. Long white banana seat and high rise handle bars. Prince boosted himself up between the handle bars and off they went. Weaving in and out of the slow moving traffic on State Road, they rode past Cronig's Market and the Lake Tashmoo overlook. A few minutes later they coasted into the busy parking lot at the Scottish Bakehouse. Isabella White, Ross's grandmother, had converted the small house into a bakery a few years ago, just after she arrived on the island from Scotland. The place became an instant sensation, doling out her delicious shortbread pastries and kidney pies. After giving Ross a big hug, a pink faced, sweaty Grandma Isabella awarded Ross and his friends each with shortbread cookies and a pastry, neatly wrapped in an oversized napkin. Sitting on top of a nearby fence, the boys chomped away on their treats. The Prince stopped in mid-chew, a thought suddenly coming into his mind. "Hey, Ross. You from here?" Chewing, "Yeah, uh-huh." "You know Kip Kincaid?" "Yeah. We're in the same grade." "So, what's the skinny on that guy?" Ross smirked. "I dunno. He's a Stamper, I guess." "What do ya mean by that?" "Well," Ross cleared his throat. "His family's on welfare and food stamps most of the year. His parents only work in the summer." Prince frowned, gazing into the distance. "What do his parents do?" "His mom waitresses. His dad," Ross huffed. "I think he's actually his step dad. Works on a lobster boat. The guy's a real tool." "Why?" Ross shrugged. "I dunno. I think he drinks a lot when he's not working. And then, he takes it out on Kip." Stunned, Prince looked at Ross. "He shows up at school sometimes looking like he's been roughed up pretty good." Prince looked down, a sad feeling washing over him. Ross dropped the subject just like that, laughing as he used his napkin to wipe a smear of jelly off of Prince's cheek. Snapping out of his funk, Prince just smirked, taking another bite of shortbread. "Hey, guys! Let's check out the graveyard!" Peachy exclaimed. "Yeah! Let's do it!" Ross responded. The boys jumped off the fence, crumpled the napkins up in a ball, and tossed them into a nearby trash barrel. "Follow me," Peachy commanded. Graveyards weren't really Prince's thing, but he thought he'd tag along, just to see. Rounding the backside of the Bakehouse, Ross led them onto a trail into a thick forest of trees. They followed the narrow path for about a half mile, occasionally having to step over a fallen tree. Eventually, the trail opened up into an empty field. "Oh, I get it," Prince said. What he thought was going to be a cemetery turned out to be a graveyard for old boats. Big boats, small boats, skiffs, even a tugboat. Tipped or leaning on their sides, some turned over, peeling paint, broken windows. A sailboat with a broken mast. "They used that one over there when they shot the movie last summer," Ross informed them, pointing to one of the bigger boats that had a hole ripped in the side of the hull. The boys were just rounding the backside of the tug when they heard a quiet scream and the sound of a girl giggling. Instinctively, all three went into a crouch. Peering around the corner of the boat's hull, they observed two people. A guy and a girl, about to have sex. The boys huddled against each other as they tried best to position themselves to watch without getting discovered. The guy was what captured The Prince's attention first. Completely naked. Tall, at least six feet, maybe more. Black. Well, not quite Black. More like milk chocolate. Smooth, silky skin, big lips, a flat nose, medium length kinky hair. Skinny, nicely defined chest. Flat stomach, big belly button. Below, black kinky pubic hair, and the biggest cock Prince had ever seen. Maybe eight inches, thick, veiny, big head, sticking straight out. Scary. He stood behind the girl, roughly pushing on her back to force her to bend over. She obliged, lifting her arms up and using them to support her head against the hull of the boat. She turned her head back for a moment to watch him, not in fear, but with a smile on her face. Prince sucked his breath in. Jules! Isaac's girl friend! Naked from the waist down, a sleeveless t-shirt pushed up to her neck, baring her tits. Her streaked blonde hair was kind of messed up. Other than that, she looked pretty hot, Prince thought. Pink skin, rounded hips and a cute butt, her smallish breasts kind of dangling as she bent over. Athletic looking legs, now being forced apart by the guy. A condom seemed to appear out of nowhere. He quickly put it on. Then, holding onto his cock, he slowly guided it into her. Jules winced, then trying to catch her breath, she let out a low groan. The three boys were mesmerized. As the pair slowly rocked back and forth, Prince zeroed in on the guy. He kind of went into a trance, imagining what it would be like if that was him bent over instead of Jules. That beautiful, ugly, scary, wonderful cock going between his legs, into his butt hole. He'd never really thought that much about his ass. But, all of a sudden, the idea of it sounded so dirty and good at the same time. Or, even licking and sucking on that thing. His own dick was hard as a rock. Hearing some soft breathing, Prince turned slightly to observe Peachy with his hand down his shorts, obviously giving his own tool a workout. Prince smirked, turning back to watch the two going at it. Just then, he felt a hand brush against the obviously tented out front of his own shorts. Instinctively, he swatted it away, looking up to see a deeply blushing Ross. "Not right now," Prince whispered. It didn't take all that long. The guy threw his head back, his breath coming in quick spurts, as he orgasmed. After a moment, the thrusting now finished, he stood back, his cock appearing with a generous load of milky cum at the tip of the rubber. As he stumbled away from Jules, he happened to glance in their direction. The three boys instinctively pulled back behind the hull of the boat. Too late, though. They'd been busted. Without a word, they turned and ran back to the edge of the field, not slowing to a walk until they neared the back side of the Bakehouse. As they caught their breath, Ross looked first at Prince, then at Peachy. "That was to the max!" All three broke into giggles. They casually walked around to the front of the Bakehouse. Peachy grabbed his bike right away. "Later!" Without another word, he jumped on his bike and pedaled away, further up island toward his house. Watching him go, Ross turned to Prince, softly grabbing his hand. "Wanna come over to my place?" They looked at each other, a hopeful look on Ross's face. "I've got some skin mags." That sounded pretty good to Prince. But, on the other hand, he had something else on his mind. "Nah, that's ok. I need to be getting home." A short while later, after using Mrs. White's phone to call home, Isaac pulled up in the Renegade. Just as Prince hoisted himself in, Jules came bouncing out of the Bakehouse, holding a small bakery box. "Hey!" Isaac exclaimed. He jumped out of the Jeep and approached her. After a short conversation, they gave each other a quick peck on the lips. The Prince just sat slumped in his seat watching them, a look of disgust on his face.