Date: Mon, 16 Oct 2023 01:05:46 +0000 From: jacklynch945 Subject: The Prince The Pauper And the Chief Chapter 18 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 18. Enjoying Myself. Prince searched the rack, looking for the spot where the Milk Duds were supposed to go. The last couple of hours had been nothing short of a disaster. His true identity hadn't been uncovered but, Jeez! This job was a lot harder than Kip had described it! Stan, the owner guy, was constantly correcting and bawling him out. He had no clue as to where anything was. Of course, he knew how to sweep a floor, but where the hell was the broom? He had just picked up a handful of Milk Duds boxes, deciding he would just jam them in somewhere. A tap on the shoulder. When he turned around, Prince came face-to-face with Chief Brady. "So, how's the job going, Kip?" Prince's mouth dropped open. Quickly gathering his wits, "Fine, Chief. It's going fine." A slight frown came over Tim's face. Something was different about this kid. "You still using that bike lock?" Bike lock. What bike lock?? Oh yeah, he remembered. The key in his pocket Kip had shown him. A serious look on his face, he just nodded. On the way out of the Edgartown Paper Store, Tim glanced up at the steel gray sky. With relief, he noticed the drizzle had stopped. Progress, he thought. "Well, hello!" Tim looked toward the street corner from which Roger had just greeted him. Mike stood next to him. "Happy Fourth of July, gentlemen," Tim replied, maintaining a serious professional expression on his face. Both men, or rather, man and boy, gazed at Tim. "I love a guy in a uniform," Mike said, his eyes twinkling. That flirty smile. So troubling, and positively seductive. Tim felt himself getting hard. The kid looked cuter than ever. Nevertheless, he changed the subject. "Came over for the parade, I take it?" Both nodded. "Uh, yeah." Roger responded, then changed the topic again. "Hey, uh, Chief," looking at Tim's name badge, "What do you know about Lucy Vincent Beach?" Tim smirked. "Near where you guys are staying. In Chilmark. Private though. You need a key to get on the beach." He knew where they were going with that idea. A beautiful expanse of beach, clothing optional on one end, reputed to be a homo haven back in the dunes. "Maybe you know someone who could get us access," Roger speculated. "Maybe I do." Tim paused, looking at both of them. "Let me know when you want to go. I'll see if I can help ya with that." An hour or so later, Stan cut Prince loose for the day. The kid had been annoying enough. It's like he'd crapped out all of his brain cells, he thought. He seemed to have no idea about how to do his job. After locating Kip's bike and using the key to unlock it, Prince walked it part way up Main Street until the crowded sidewalk thinned out enough for him to ride. Past the A&P, crossing to the left and riding up the Edgartown-Vineyard Haven Road. Biking along the left side of the road so he could keep track of the oncoming traffic, Prince allowed himself to relax and enjoy the scenery. He'd always traveled this route in a car, paying no attention to his surroundings. The bike ride gave him a chance to observe the flower markets, vegetable stands, and small homes along the route. Before long, he hit the intersection with State Road, crossing the busy intersection, riding through Vineyard Haven, and heading towards Oak Bluffs. He almost missed the sign for Lyme Street. Approaching Kip's house, the only word that came to Prince's mind was, depressing. Once inside, Prince tried to get his bearings. Okay, there was Kip's narrow single bed in a dark corner of what was supposedly the kitchen-living room. He spied some guy through the bedroom door, laying flat on his back, snoozing. Kip's step-father, he surmised. After looking the place over, he wandered over to the brightest part of the room, a grimy sliding door leading to a narrow wood deck. Stepping out, he put his elbows up on the rail, gazing out at the grubby back yard. Just then, Prince felt a beery hot breath near his ear. Before he could turn around, one hand snaked around to cup his chest, the other down the back of his shorts and underwear, a hand between his butt cheeks. "How's it goin'?" Phil whispered hoarsely into Prince's ear. Prince struggled to get away but he was basically pinned against the rail of the deck. Phil's hand brushed across Prince's chest, pulled the button open on his shorts, dipping it underneath to roughly grab his dick and balls. Prince gasped, partially in surprise, mostly in revulsion. At first, he tried to writhe away. But, then he couldn't help it. He was hard. The pressure against his back, being forcibly held against his will. Scary and exciting. His breath quickened. They stood there for a minute, Phil quietly jerking him off with his coarse hand while he ground against his ass with his cock. The Prince groaned, about ready to cum when they both heard a car door slam. Phil's hands fell away instantly as he stood back. Prince turned around, a glare on his face. "You need to take a shower," Phil said, leering at Prince as he brought the hand that had been between his butt cheeks up to his nose. "Hey, guys!" A bright cheery voice called from inside the house. As soon as Prince's eyes adjusted to the inside of the house, he looked with surprise at the woman who had just come into the house. It was her! The foxy momma from The Black Dog! Prince could only stare. Now, without the schmata on her head, her light blonde hair fell on either side of her face. Brilliant blue eyes, almond shaped, a pug nose, thin lips. There was no question about it. Kip's mom. Or...no. His mind couldn't process or begin to understand his feelings. Without thinking, Prince went to her and put his arms around her, squeezing her tightly. She felt so good, smelled so good. He'd never experienced anything like this in his life. "Honey, honey!" Suzanne gasped as she giggled. "What's gotten into you lately?" A moment later, she managed to pry herself away from Prince's grasp. "I've got to shower and get over there. We're sold out for tonight." Suzanne quickly disappeared into the bathroom. Phil and Prince stared at each other, one glaring, the other leering. Without a word, Phil went to the frig, grabbed a can of beer, and popped the top open. Prince adjusted his clothes, buttoned the top button of his shorts, and went out the front door. He was still sitting on the front steps when Suzanne came breezing out twenty minutes later. She had traded in her peasant shirt and jeans for a white blouse and black skirt. Bare legs, her hair still wet. "C'mon, Kippy. I'll give you a ride." On the way over to Edgartown, Suzanne talked about the busy morning at The Black Dog. She'd waited on James and Livingston Taylor. Not the first time, apparently. Livingston was clearly stoned, Suzanne said. His head was mostly in his soup, she recounted with a smirk. James, always polite, had actually invited her to a jam over at his house. She'd made the mistake of telling him she once played the piano. Prince finally screwed up the courage to ask the question. "Ummm...can you remind me? How old are you again?" Suzanne laughed, "Oh, c'mon, Kip! You know how old I am." "I get mixed up sometimes," Prince lied, jerking the hair out of his eyes. She chuckled again. "Oh, yeah? Well, I'm twenty-eight. But, don't go telling everybody." Prince stared at her, silently doing the math. If Kip was twelve, that meant she was only sixteen when Kip was born. The same year he was born. He felt sad all of a sudden. A teenage mother. They rode along silently for a minute. Mixed up? This kid had been acting weird for days, Suzanne thought. Was this some kind of puberty thing? Maybe she could ask Adrian about it. He had two kids in high school now. After she parked the car in the employee lot behind The Shiretown Inn, Suzanne sighed as she turned to The Prince. "So, do you want to come by after fireworks or are you going to get yourself home?" Prince shrugged. He had no idea. A couple of blocks away. "C'mon, Dork! We're leaving!" Isaac yelled up the stairs. Kip had been busy exploring The Prince's room. He wasn't sure what Sarah had meant when she told him to clean up his room. Outside of some clothes strewn across the floor and an unmade bed, it looked pretty neat. A huge four-poster bed, soft cushy bedding. When he opened the closet, he was amazed with the wide array of clothes both hanging and folded neatly into a built-in chest of drawers. All of his own clothes together fit into two cardboard cubbies next to his bed. A minute later, the Prince family walked up Water Street along with other groups of people heading toward the parade route. Luckily, they got a spot on Main Street right in front of the Edgartown Cafe. Kids straddled the curbs on both sides of the street, looking expectantly up Main Street for the red flashing lights of the police car that signaled the start of the parade. The mood was festive, flags waving, kids yelling. To make matters even better, the sky was brightening. Maybe there was a chance the sun was even going to come out. As the first part of the parade went past, everyone cheered for the open convertible carrying Congressman Joe Moakley. A couple of floats and the high school marching band followed. Next, a truck pulling a large rolling billboard advertising the upcoming world premiere of the movie, Jaws. It was scheduled to open on July 25th at the Strand, the Vineyard's largest theater. Parade volunteers accompanied each float as they threw hard candy treats at the crowd. Just as Kip stood back up after reaching down to recover a piece of candy, he felt someone nudge his butt. Obligingly, he inched forward, but he was bumped again. Turning to see who it was, Kip found himself looking up the nose of a man with freckles and long dirty blond hair. He gave Kip a funny smile. Standing next to him: a teenager, a tall kid who closely resembled his older partner. He smiled at Kip, his eyes twinkling. Weird! Kip turned back to watch the parade going by. Next up, the Camp Jabberwocky float followed by the camp bus. The nation's oldest sleep away camp for kids with disabilities. Those able to walk alongside the float tossed candy. A couple of others stood on the float itself. The rest rode the bus. Just then, the Prince family was pelted with a hailstorm of candy thrown from the top of the float. Everybody laughed, but when Kip looked up to see the source of the barrage, he realized Prince was the guilty party. Kip had told Prince he was supposed to volunteer for the parade. He'd obviously been assigned to help out with the Camp Jabberwocky float. Prince pointed at them as he guffawed. But, the rest of the family hadn't noticed. They were already directing their attention to an approaching group of twirlers. Kip bent down, grabbed a piece of candy, and hurled it back. Prince flinched as it dinged him on the back of the neck. With the float continuing to roll down the street, Prince turned his head back to Kip and laughed as he brought his middle finger up and rubbed it down the length of his nose. Kip giggled at the private message meant just for him. Turning his attention back up the street, he was nudged yet again from behind. But, this was different than a nudge. More like having one of his butt cheeks caressed. He didn't know what to do so he just froze. Kip twisted around to see who was feeling him up, an annoyed frown on his face. The same man, a quirky smile still on his face. The younger guy watched, a kind of foggy smile on his face, too. "What are you doing?" "Enjoying myself," he replied almost in a whisper.