Date: Wed, 01 Nov 2023 11:57:27 +0000 From: jacklynch945 Subject: The Prince The Pauper And the Chief Chapter 24 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 24. Seth Pond. "The rocket's red glare, Bombs bursting in air." Not really rockets and bombs, just fireworks. The Prince family and a few other assorted folks sprawled on the back lawn of their neighbor's house. The Klein's had been invited to the party in exchange for front row seating, their yard with a perfect angle to watch the fireworks currently being shot off from adjacent Chappaquiddick Island. Kip sat by himself, legs crossed, his elbows on his knees, fingers curled under his chin. A chance to finally take a breath. It had been an exciting, scary day. A tap on the shoulder. He didn't have to look. He knew who it was. He could feel his warm breath on his ear. He could even smell him. But, mostly, he just knew. "C'mon," Prince whispered. Kip crawled slowly to his feet. Nearby, Isaac looked up, his eyes slightly fogged over. Jules's head lay in his lap, her legs stretched out to one side. He seemed not to register the fact that he was looking at body doubles. They traded clothes behind the library, nary a word between them. No "how did it go?" They somehow knew what each had experienced that day. "See ya," they both whispered simultaneously . With small waves, they were both off. Kip was now just Kip, Prince resuming The Prince persona. *** Later that night, Tim sat at his desk, yawned and rubbed his eyes. Got through another Fourth! Just two drunk and disorderlies. The sidewalks were successfully rolled up by midnight. Tomorrow, a bit of paper work, and he'd have the day off. Hopefully, time to blow off some steam. His dick gave a slight twitch. *** Kip lay in his narrow bed, physically and emotionally exhausted. He was just descending into slumber when he felt a hand brush against his hip, quickly dipping under his briefs and tickling his cock. "Don't!" He half turned over. Larry was sitting on the floor next to Kip's bed. He held Kip's cock firmly in his hand. "I said cut it out!" Kip said firmly, grabbing Larry's hand and pushing it away. Larry sat back on his haunches. The booz had made him pretty drowsy, anyway. "That's ok, kid. Save the last dance for me, will ya?" *** Harvey's hand slowly swept from the boy's neck, down his smooth tan back, into the valley of his lower abdomen at his kidneys, up onto the delightful round globes of his ass. The darker shade of his crack, musky smelling and inviting. Mike wiggled his hips and smiled. He was laid out naked on the white Formica coffee table in Harvey's living room. Harvey sat pitched forward in his leather chair ministering to the boy. Roger sat across the room, his hand wrapped around his own cock. Also naked. Harvey smirked. It was going to be a whole different kind of fireworks tonight. *** A trip to the PD to check on the processing of those two drunks from last night followed by a quick run to the airport to drop his wife off. She was flying over to Nashua to visit her sister. The rest of the day was his. Tim never spent his days off in Edgartown. Especially for the kinds of activities he was hoping for. Too many distractions, too easy to flip into work mode. Much, much too easy to be recognized while engaged in some socially unacceptable activity. Seth Pond was better suited for that. A quiet little lake, as yet undiscovered by the summer hordes descending on Martha's Vineyard. Located on the far end of the Lamberts Cove Road loop in Tisbury. A narrow beach, coarse sand, the pond almost entirely surrounded by thick a thick forest of trees. Because the place was mostly visited by locals, it was usually busy only on the weekends. Today, the day after The Fourth, a weekday. Quiet. He threw a small cooler down, opened up his chaise lounge, and flopped down after pulling his shirt off. Just swim trunks and a baseball cap. Dark sunglasses. Pretty much incognito. Snoring and a snort woke him up. His snoring, his snort. He raised his head up and looked around. A couple of boys were at the edge of the water tossing a mini soft football back and forth. Was that Kip Kincaid? Tim squeezed his eyes shut and reopened them, trying to focus. No, that wasn't Kip. It was The Prince. His light tan skin glowed in the mid-summer sunlight. Set off by his almost white blond hair, he was a vision. Faultless, really. Lightly muscled, square shoulders, tiny pink nipples. He wore a tight red swimsuit, some kind of stretchy nylon material that hugged his hips. That cute butt. The memory of Prince walking across his path at State Beach a few weeks ago. It had registered then, rekindled now. The other kid. Taller, bright red curly hair, freckled pale skin. Oh yeah. White. His grandmother Isabella, fast becoming a local legend with her kidney pies and scones. He could never remember his first name so Tim always just called him "White." With each throw, the boys drifted a little further into the water, eventually struggling to pull their legs out fast enough to get to the ball, finally having to dive for it. Of course, the game of toss eventually dissolved into some vigorous dunking and underwater wrestling. Out of breath, the boys finally slogged to shore, laughing as they returned to towels they'd set up just down the beach from Tim. He delighted in looking at them, all soaked, their wet suits plastered to their lithe bodies. Prince unconsciously poked the front of his suit where the end of his prick pushed against the fabric. Maybe to make sure it was still there, Tim chuckled to himself. White wiped his face off with a towel, then looked around to see if anyone was watching. Ross laid down on his towel next to Prince, trying in vain to slow his rapidly beating heart. Prince had been all Ross could think about since the graveyard. The second Peachy introduced him to Prince, he had registered a "ten" on his "damn he's good-looking" meter. First, his neatly combed blond hair, every strand seeming to fall in just the right place. Then, those barely visible eyebrows combined with long eyelashes and narrow blue eyes. Jeepers! Expensive Polo shirt, Topsiders. He must be rich, Ross had deduced. But, it was the way he acted that excited Ross more. So confident and self-assured. It just made you want to follow him around wherever he went. He had wanted in the worst way to sit next to him on that fence next to Grandma Isabella's. Maybe he could have moved his leg over to nudge against Prince's bare leg. But, damn that Peachy! He got there first. Watching that Black guy with his Mandingo cock was certainly a trip. Ross's eyes darted back and forth between Prince and the action taking place next to the old boat. First, looking at Prince's face, his eyes wide open, locked on the show. Then down to below his waist where he observed Prince's hard on pushing against the front of his shorts. "Not right now." What did that mean? Did it mean, later, sometime, maybe, or, perish the thought, never? After Prince slapped his hand away, Ross was momentarily devastated. But, then Prince's reaction. Rather than getting shut down, now he was confused and hopeful. When Peachy inexplicably jumped on his bike and left, the two of them standing there, he just had to see if there was any way they could get together. Maybe jerk off or something. Perhaps Ross would get to see Prince in the altogether. Prince's mind seemed to be somewhere else. He just flat turned Ross's invitation down, sending him away, feeling like he'd been sentenced to purgatory. Ross's stomach did flips as he tried to screw up enough courage to call Prince today. When Prince came to the phone, he stammered out an offer to meet at Seth's Pond for a swim. Then a rush of relief. He accepted! Now, here they were! After playing catch and getting thoroughly waterlogged, Ross was relieved to just lay there next to him. If nothing else happened, it was already a great day. Tim surreptitiously observed the two boys, not having any agenda in mind other than going over various fantasies in his warped mind. There was nothing wrong with fantasies, was there? A few minutes later, two teenage girls walked slowly by the two boys, both still flat on their backs. One of them must have said something because Ross lifted his head up followed by The Prince. Both boys pushed themselves halfway up, their arms and elbows giving them support. Some chatter ensued, the girls occasionally giggling, shifting their weight from hip to hip. One girl self consciously ran her hands through her hair every few seconds. The other one nibbled alternately on a finger and her thumb, trying to look bored and stuck-up. They were obviously in high flirt mode. Prince eventually got up, White following. They talked for just a minute more before Prince suddenly charged toward the water, White hesitating for a moment before jumping in after him. The two girls watched them go for a few seconds, then turned and walked right in front of Tim, chattering excitedly and giggling some more, each one glancing at the boys swimming away. Tim was watching the boys, too. Prince swam toward the other end of the pond, White maybe twenty feet behind. Oh yeah, he thought. I forgot about the float, a small swimming platform, bobbing up and down in the water. Whipping his sunglasses and cap off, Tim strolled to the edge of the water, walked in until the water was knee high, and dove in. He swam slowly in the direction the boys were going, keeping an eye on their progress, but staying far back. Now on the far side of the pond, Prince hoisted himself up on the float, turning on hands and knees, to help boost Ross up. Tim swam quietly to one side, stationing himself far enough away not to be detected, close enough to observe what was happening. The water was maybe a bit more than five feet deep, enabling him to partly tread water and bounce off the sandy bottom using the tips of his toes. Both boys lay flat on their backs next to each other, talking quietly. Prince burst into laughter after White made some kind of remark, presumably about the girls. At one point, Prince raised his head, shaking the water out of his hair and giving it a quick swipe. Amazingly, it kind of fell into place. Tim watched as White turned on his side, raising himself up on an elbow. The chatting came to a stop when he brought his hand up on Prince's chest and began to softly massage it. Bringing his fingers together, he lightly pinched first one tiny nipple, then the other. Prince closed his eyes, a soft smile on his face. First a small kiss, then a couple more, and White's mouth was firmly attached to Prince's nipple. Prince tipped his head back and opened his mouth, obviously enjoying the attention. A dream come true. For Ross. A couple of dreams, in fact, over the last few nights. Both of them, wet. The Prince certainly enjoyed the attention. In fact, he loved it. Ross was actually kind of cute, with his red curls and freckles. But, Prince was ambivalent. He accepted the invitation to Seth's Pond because he really had nothing else to do. He was mildly curious to see if Ross would try something again. Now that they were here, Prince decided to lay back and enjoy it. He had no plan in mind. Tease Ross until either he couldn't stand it any longer or Prince's own needs were satisfied, whichever came first. Turning his head to the side, he lazily opened them, to see some guy treading water, watching them. Surprise followed by curiosity and then he recognized him. Chief Brady! Not knowing exactly how or if he should react, he just stared at him for a moment, sleepily closed his eyes, and turned his head to face up to the sky, murmuring softly as Ross used his tongue to flick his nipples. Without a word, Prince turned the other way and slipped into the water. He paddled toward the nearby shore, Ross following close behind. Padding onto a narrow swath of sand and scrub, Prince disappeared into the woods. Ross followed, his heart beating wildly. Did I overdo it? Was he running away? Maybe I should have just stuck with rubbing his chest. But, his nipple tasted so good. Sort of like how his own skin tasted when he licked his forearm. Deep enough in the woods that the light took on an eery afternoon glow. Close enough to the shore that the water was still visible. Prince had taken up a position in front of a tree that had some bare lower branches. He put one arm each up on a branch on either side of the tree trunk, fully aware of how he must look. Standing there, his pits clearly visible, a raging hard-on pushing against the front of his swimsuit. Ross appeared, standing a few feet away, his mouth agog. "Far out!" He said with a smile. Prince just looked at him, a blank look on his face. "Come here." Ross edged forward. "Ross?" "Huh?" He was in a bit of a fog. "Take them off." Ross's hands went to the waistband of his swim trunks. "Not yours. Mine." Ross stepped forward, grabbing the waistband of Prince's swimsuit. He pulled the front forward so he could ease Prince's cock out from the inside of the suit, carefully nudging it down his legs and off. Without question, the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen in his twelve years on Earth. Now naked, standing there, his narrow hips thrust forward. His cock, pink, curving upward, a furry patch of pubic hair, his flat tummy, a cute belly button, his mostly flat chest, and those scrumptious nipples. He looked so very cool with his blue eyes and his light blond bangs. "Are you gonna?" Prince asked in an impatient voice. Ross knelt down. He was going to jerk him off. At the last second, though, probably by instinct, he took hold of it, and sucked it into his mouth. "Yes!" Prince rasped, throwing his head back. Slowly at first, then with more intensity, Prince thrust his hips back and forth, Ross's hands holding them to keep both boys steady. This was a first for Ross. He'd dreamt of doing something like this. Usually, his fantasies surrounding some big, hairy, muscular guy forcing his thick mean cock deep down his throat. In contrast, Prince's cock fit so nicely inside his mouth. Firm and kind of rubbery, surprisingly cool. He smelled kind of like a combination of Coppertone, lake water, and a hint of musky balls. "Uh-uh-uh," Prince half gasped, half grunted. Ross brought one hand up to The Prince's chest, hoping to quiet him. What if someone heard them? Instead, he flicked one nipple, sweeping his hand across his chest to pinch the other one. Prince groaned. Someone heard them all right. And saw them, too. Tim stood some thirty feet away, mostly hidden by a thick tree. The shock of seeing the two boys had quickly worn off, now replaced by the intensity of his own sexual arousal. He didn't have to look down to know he was hard as a rock. He fought off every instinct to jump in and join the party. A sliver of caution kept him firmly rooted to the spot. That Prince boy was so gorgeous it almost made him mad. The fact that he was so proud full and arrogant should have been a turn-off. Instead, it made him all the more alluring. What he wouldn't do to fuck his little ass. Just as he reached down to give his own swollen dick a squeeze, it all came to an end. Well, not the end, just the orgasm part. Tim watched as Prince held his hips steady, eyes squeezed shut, appearing to pour his jizz down the White kid's throat. Prince opened his eyes, somehow attracted to movement from the side. There was the Chief, peering around a tree. He'd seen everything. Prince should have jumped away and tried to cover himself up. Instead, he kept looking at the Chief, a dull smile on his face. Ross sat back on his haunches. He'd never thought about what it would feel like to have spunk in his mouth. It rolled around like a glob of phlegm. A sharp, bitter, salty taste. Suddenly afraid to swallow it, he turned his head to the side and spat it out onto the ground. His cock kind of hurt, still half swollen. Prince was in no hurry to put his swimsuit back on, though. He was thoroughly enjoying the moment, knowing that the Chief was looking at him. He dropped his arms from the tree branches, organized his hair a bit, after which he placed both hands on top of his head. I must look pretty sexy, he thought. Turning his head, he caught the Chief still watching. They stared at each other, neither one willing to be the first to look away.