My Life with Prince Harry: Chapter 11

Author: Kyle Frank

Co-author: James FitzHugh <>

Please note we don't know Prince Harry personally or know his true sexual orientation.  Furthermore, this story is 100% complete fiction and in no way do we wish to insinuate his sexuality or anything of the like.  Lastly, this story contains male to male sex, so if this offends you, you are too young to be reading this, or, you are not into these kinds of things please leave now. Thank you and please enjoy this tale.

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The drive from the hospital to the Ham Polo Club in Richmond was not a long one. It was just a little over 11 miles but, in the heavy traffic, it would take anywhere from 35 to 45 minutes. For most of the drive Keaton slowly took Harry through the collection of pictures on the computer. Harry could remember most of the places where the pictures were taken and he was pretty sure that he could match up the dates. He told Keaton that he was keeping an electronic diary in which he recorded every detail that he could remember. He used that diary to remind himself of when and where he met different people, his first impressions, their contact information and anything else he thought might come in useful somewhere down the road. He had met some very talented people along the way and he was hoping to attract some of them to help with his charity work. The program had been set up for him by a computer specialist he had met and befriended just after he joined the Blues & Royals. Privately this gentleman, who now worked in the Ministry of Defence, was always available to help him when he screwed up. But, despite Keaton's concern about the possibility of him being stalked for nefarious purposes; he could not wrap his mind around `the why' someone would be following him this intensely. As Keaton showed Harry each picture, he worked at jogging Harry's memory on when and where the picture had been taken, he made notes on his note pad. And then there were the videos which Keaton decided he would not show Harry while they were in the car. He would save those for when they were in the privacy of Harry's residence.


Normally, Harry felt perfectly safe. He was well aware that no-one, not even his constant shadows consisting of his PPO and now, Keaton, could protect him from a dedicated, focused, lone assassin who worked alone and in secret. He remembered one evening when, after their mother died, his father sat him and William down and together they watched the famous movie, The Day of the Jackal. It was his father's way of introducing the brothers to the realities of their very public positions and the risks which came with those positions. Harry remembered that the very next day Prince Charles, accompanied by a security services specialist, walked the brothers through a play-by-play analysis of the movie to help them understand what a determined, lone assassin could do. And then, of course, there was the humungous library of conspiracy theories that swirled around the sudden and tragic death of their mother.

He attended regular briefings given to the Senior Royals by the Security Services that were designed, not to frighten them, but to keep them aware of the constantly evolving security risks. Very few people know the full extent of the measures put in place by the security services to protect the Senior Royals. Known as the `Fagan Protocols' named after Michael Fagan, the man who on the 9th of July 1982, got past all the then existing security measures at Buckingham Palace, climbed up a drainpipe and ended up sitting on the Queen's bed.

Harry knew that these protocols were constantly being reviewed and updated not only to ensure the safety of the Royal Family but also that of the Prime Minister and Members of the Cabinet. Although Her Majesty the Queen, Prince Philip, The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, the Princess Royal and other Senior Royals might look easily accessible, the beauty of the system was in its invisible effectiveness. Everyone remembers the starter pistol incident when the Queen was riding Burmese, the beautiful black horse given in 1969 as a gift by the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, down the Mall during the 1981 Trooping of the Colour parade. The film of this incident was still shown as part of the training program used to help in training the Personal Protection Officers. The security services were determined that nothing of the sort should happen again.

Up until now, Harry had no car of his own. During this trip, while listening to Keaton expound on his theory of there being a possible conspiracy involving his person, Keaton didn't realize it but he was helping Harry make a decision. Harry was well aware of the fact that other members of his family sometimes used a modified, ordinary, everyday type vehicle when moving around London on their appointments. It gave them a measure of anonymity, a sense of being invisible within the general traffic as they went about their business. Everyone, of course, sees the state vehicles used by the senior members of the Royal Family when conducting official business. These vehicles are well known. But! For some time Harry had been thinking of acquiring his own personal car; something that would blend in and attract little or no attention. He had been thinking about the problem for a while and just as their driver turned and entered a roundabout to take the second exit onto Burlington Ln/A316, he saw the very car that he had been considering. It was a car, like any other car travelling the streets of London, in which he could be invisible. Interrupting Keaton in mid-sentence, he reached for his mobile and dialled the number for Paul Sutherland of Manganese Bronze, the manufacturer of the famous London black cabs. Harry had met Paul at one of the functions held by the Prince's Trust. After the initial pleasantries, he asked Paul if he could come to see him to talk about a purchase. Paul, instead, offered to come round to see the Prince at his convenience. They made an appointment to meet at Clarence House at the first of next week.

Harry encouraged Keaton to finish what he was saying but, thankfully, they arrived at their destination. Harry stepped out of the car to be greeted by Col Michael St. Onge, a Member of the Board and by David Mansbridge, the Director of Polo. As the introductions were made and the gentlemen engaged in light conversation, they walked to and then through the Club House to the outside back patio. After a steward took their drink orders, Harry proceeded to the field where he met his proposed new polo pony. Harry patted the pony's head and then slowly walked around the magnificent animal.

As Harry asked a number of questions, Mr. Mansbridge answered those questions and also handed Harry a portfolio which contained all the written history and information on the pony, its breeding, its current owner, the list of tournaments the pony had taken part in, etc. Harry simply handed the portfolio off to Keaton. The only subject not discussed was the price. That would be a matter for private discussion between the Prince, or his agent, and the current owner. Harry, not having brought any of his kit, asked one of the young men who was fitted out and standing nearby, if he would be kind enough to show the pony for him. Harry watched the pony being put through various exercises for about 20 minutes. Keaton, being ever watchful, stood behind and to the right of Harry simply watching but not taking part in the conversation. If he'd have been asked, Keaton would have told whoever was asking that he had never been to a polo match and certainly didn't know what a chukka was. When Harry was satisfied that he had seen all he could see, he thanked his hosts and informed Mr. Mansbridge that the Manager of the Royal Polo Pony Pool in Gloucestershire, accompanied by their veterinarian, would be in touch shortly to see the animal. He assured both his hosts that after he got their approval, he would contact the owner to negotiate a price. He reminded them that this potential addition to the Royal Pool was intended to follow in the footsteps of his favourite pony, Drizzle, who had died at Coworth Park in Berkshire in May of 2012.  

On the way back to Kensington Palace, Harry informed Keaton that while he was away playing soldier, he was probably going to take a few days and accompany Tristan to see his mother who had suffered a stroke. Harry was due some leave. Keaton was no fool. He knew that Tristan was very important to Harry even though, as yet, he was not assigned to Harry full time. But Harry had already confirmed that Tristan was going to be re-instated in his beloved Welsh Guards and would be accompanying him, if and when, he went for a second tour in Afghanistan.

Keaton asked Harry the details of the trip such as how he was getting there; how long would it take; where was he going to stay; how long he'd be there and what would he do while there. Actually Keaton thought he'd caught Harry flat footed but the young Prince had already put some thought into it. He knew that after he talked to Paul Sutherland early in the week, he would ask to borrow a vehicle until his private car was ready. As for driving, Harry actually had a driver's license he seldom used and so did the PPO. If, after discussing the matter with his PPO, he thought it was necessary; he would ask one of the royal drivers to accompany them and he would pay the cost and the expenses of the driver out of his own pocket. Harry made sure that Keaton understood that this was to be a private vacation and that he was going to be paying the bills, not the government or his father.  As to what hotel he would stay in, he had already decided that he would stay at the Feathers Royal Hotel in Aberystwyth. He also told Keaton that, if it could be done without any fuss, he would probably take the opportunity to visit his brother up at RAF Valley and maybe take his favourite sister-in-law to lunch in Anglesey. His brother had once told him about the time he and Kate had gone to dinner at the Sosban and The Old Butchers Restaurant, William had said that it came highly recommended, the food was great, and both he and Kate had enjoyed themselves.

"So there, Mr. Big Bad Woof, what do you think of those plans?" asked Harry laughing as he looked over at Keaton.

"You really have this all figured out, don't you?" remarked Keaton.

"In fact," replied Harry, "Kate had told me about Tristan's mother and at my request she asked the Staff to look into the travel arrangements. I just didn't tell Tristan that I was thinking about it until this morning."

Just As the car entered Kensington Palace, Harry spied Catherine walking and playing with Lupo in the distance. He told Keaton to go on but had the car stop. He got out and so did the PPO. He went to join Catherine. Lupo didn't waste any time running to and jumping up on Harry once he saw him. Harry spent a good half hour with Catherine and Lupo and then went to his apartment.

"Is that all you do?" asked the Prince as he opened the door to the apartment and found Keaton spread out on the couch.

"I was really waiting for you. I was hoping that you and I could share a shower." replied Keaton with a big smile creeping across his face.

"You naughty woof," laughed Harry as he walked over to the kitchen counter and poured himself a glass of wine. "We've got at least two hours before dinner." he said as he walked over to the couch with glass in hand. He bent down to give Keaton a kiss on his forehead. Keaton just lay there for a few minutes letting his Prince unwind and relax. Then when he saw that Harry had drained his glass, he stood up, took his hand and silently led him into the bedroom and the shower.

The process of stripping each other seemed like it had taken hours but, in fact, it had only taken a few short minutes. It was as if they had stepped off the planet Earth and landed somewhere else in the universe. They were oblivious to everything around them. Keaton had adjusted the flowing water so that it was warm on the high side but not hot per se. He knew his partner well.

They both climbed into the shower with Keaton standing snugly tucked into Harry's back. They stood still for several minutes letting the warm water cascade down their bodies with Keaton lazily kissing Harry's neck.

"Keep doing that Mr. Woof and I will not be responsible for the consequences," the Prince warned as he leaned back so that his head lay in the crook of Keaton's neck.

"Oh! Are you talking about getting rough, ginger boy?" laughed the big American but he didn't stop kissing Harry's neck.

For several minutes longer, they just stood there in the warm water letting the sweat of their bodies be washed off. Keaton kept nuzzling Harry's neck and if one were to look over Harry's shoulder, here was no doubt of the effect. The Prince's sceptre was definitely solid.

Suddenly and without any warning, Harry quickly turned around, grabbed Keaton in a bear hug and glued their lips together. Their hands began to roam; their tongues were counting the number of teeth in each other's mouths. The temperature, not of the water certainly but of each other, was definitely rising. Keaton's hard cock was digging into Harry's stomach and vice versa.

Harry moved his hands to Keaton's ass. It felt like he was trying to glue their bodies together with the precum leaking from both fully loaded duelling
 pistols. They were sliding and pressing together. Both bodies were very wet and sticky. Keaton was amazed with sensuality; he felt so primed that he thought he might just cum without Harry having touched him. But then, everything stopped.

"Ah well, Mr. Woof," Harry said with a chuckle. "Maybe you don't deserve to play today."

"But Keaton fully primed wanted to cum so bad. He grabbed Harry and tried to kiss him but Harry pulled his head back.

"Nope," he said still smiling. "If I give in to your hotness; what do I get in return?"

"I'll do anything you want, my Prince," replied Keaton who moved his head forward trying to kiss him again.

"Now that's an offer not even I can refuse," said Harry as he turned Keaton around to face the wall. He leaned in and placed his lips on Keaton's neck; he moved his hands over Keaton's well developed chest stopping only to tweak both nipples at the same time.  Keaton was now beyond horny. He was desperate.

"Okay, ginger man," he said panting. Please, just make me cum before I lapse into a state of unconsciousness." Keaton lay his head back so Harry could kiss him and at the same time he spread his legs knowing full well what was coming.

When it comes to fucking, whether it's a male or a female, Harry doesn't need to take a back seat or, for that matter, lessons from anyone. He wasted no time and quickly rammed his entire cock into Keaton. His arms were still wrapped around Keaton and holding Keaton tightly and steadily, he ploughed deep; his chest tightly up against Keaton's back and his head lying over Keaton's shoulder.

Harry did not move for several minutes in order to let Keaton adjust to him and, there was little doubt that Keaton could feel his vicious weapon throbbing deep inside him. Keaton's heart was beating fast. He was breathing heavily. In fact, they both were.

"Fuck me, ginger man." Keaton panted.

"Oh yeah, Mr. Woof, you can count on that." growled Harry as he started thrusting in and out of Keaton's well skewed ass. He started slowly but
he was quickly picking up the tempo.

Keaton was starting to feel so good; so fulfilling. It was so much better than jacking off or even a blowjob. This was raw, brutal sex.

Harry picking up speed; he was thrusting into Keaton harder, faster and deeper. He was now moaning and his panting was getting louder with every thrust. Keaton felt his own pre-cum dripping onto his toes but although he wanted to, he didn't reach down to touch himself. The pair of muscled mass were locked in battle. Keaton knew that if Harry kept this up, he would explode without having touched himself.

"Oh fuck, Mr. Woof. I'm going to breed you any second now," he said as he nuzzled Keaton's neck, licked it and then kissed it. Harry trust deep into Keaton going where no man had gone before. "Fuck, yes, Oh fuck yeah, take it Mr. Woof. Take my seed deep in your bowels."

Keaton was now pressed right up against the shower wall. Harry's body began to shake. His moans and growls were now high pitched. "Yeah Keaton." he yelled when he stopped slamming into that beautiful tight ass that gripped his cock as if it were in a vice, "take my fucking cum, Mr. Woof. I'm cummmmming."

"Keaton felt the big cock in his ass pulsating as shot after shot of Harry's sperm was pumped into him. He was beyond excitement when he slipped over the edge and shot bolt after bolt of his thick cream against the shower wall. After Harry's pumping had stopped, he just stood with Keaton wholly impaled. He felt Keaton's spasms as he finished his own release.

Slowly the two men came down from their high. Harry took his time pulling his now deflating cock out of Keaton's well fucked ass. "Okay Mr. Woof." he whispered into Keaton's ear; let's wash up so we can enjoy the rest of our evening.

Eventually leaving the shower, the two men dried themselves and dressed in casual clothing. Because it was Bellamy's, they both wore ties with Harry wearing his regimental tie. Then, right on time, there was a light tap on the door that let Harry and Keaton know that the car was ready.

As Harry got into the car, he chuckled to himself when he thought of his soon to be nondescript car. He just knew he'd love it. It would add shock value because no-one would expect him to arrive in a plain old London taxi cab.

When they arrived at what Keaton had once called their little hole in the wall, Harry noticed a second security man taking up station at the entrance. But looking in the other direction he also saw a few members of the press and photographers standing around like a bunch of hungry wolves. They appeared to be just waiting to pounce. Harry paid them no never mind as he left the car entering Bellamy's.

As usual, the Maître d' had been informed that he had arrived. He was waiting just inside the door and greeted Harry. "Your guests have arrived Your Royal Highness." he said shaking Harry's offered hand. He then turned and led Harry and Keaton to a secluded table set up in a corner behind a screen. Once Harry had renewed his acquaintance with both Bryce and Aedan and was comfortably seated, Tony appeared with a bottle of red wine in hand.

As he opened the bottle and began to pour, Tony said, "Jacques has asked me to inform your Royal Highness, and your guests, that rather than you choosing from the menu this evening, he has prepared something very special for you. He has told me to inform you that everything to be served tonight is a product of Canada."

"Really!" said a surprised Harry.

"Would you like to hear what he has prepared for you or would you just like him to surprise you," asked Tony looking down at the handsome Prince.

"I'm not very good at surprises, Tony. So! Why don't you warn me in advance?"

"Well, Sir. The wine you will be served this evening comes from the Yost Vineyards in a place called Malagash, Nova Scotia. Jacques has chosen a wine called 4 Skins. It's an odd name, Sir, but Jacques says that it is a full-bodied and lusty wine with a hint of impulsiveness; this wine combines a carefully selected blend of four grapes to create a one-of-a-kind wine. Castel, Lucie Kuhlmann, Marechal Foch and Millot grapes are blended to a rich, ruby hue, deep in colour and intensity. Jacques told me to remind you he knows that you rarely drink anything at meals except red wine, Sir."

"Are you practicing to be a sommelier, Tony?" asked the Prince who smiled at Tony. The other guests lightly chucked at poor Tony's discomfort.

"No, Sir. I'm just informing you what Jacques had me work at memorizing all afternoon." replied the very red faced waiter. Now everyone, including Tony broke out laughing.

"Okay my very harassed young waiter, what's next?" asked the Prince.

"The entrée you will be having is lobster tails from the Province of New Brunswick. For the main course, Jacques has selected salmon from the Province of British Columbia with accompanying potatoes from Prince Edward Island and the vegetables coming from the Province of Ontario. And for dessert, Jacques says he has chosen a lovely blueberry pie which he says to tell you; he made with his own hands just for you. Again, the blueberries come from a place called Upper Rawdon in Nova Scotia. The pie will be topped with ice cream that is the only food on your dinner menu this evening that comes from the United Kingdom."

"Okay, tell me where it comes from." asked Harry trying, but not succeeding, at in looking bored.

"Your Dad, the Prince of Wales, will like this, Sir." said Tony rather proudly. We are using ice cream supplied by Brookes Wye Valley Dairy Company in Wales."

"I think I see a conspiracy here, Tony. Yes! There's definitely a conspiracy. I think you have been conspiring with my man servant, Tristan." said Harry with one of his beautiful smiles creeping across his face.

"Why's that, Sir?" asked the somewhat shocked waiter

"Because Tony, he comes from Aberystwyth. What's that a mere hop, skip and a jump of say two hours and some?" asked the Prince while everyone else around the table was trying desperately to keep a straight face.


"Actually, Sir, Aberystwyth is not all that far from Rhayader where I come from. It's about half an hour or so." said the young waiter smiling at his Prince.

"See." laughed Harry. "I just knew there had to be a connection." Everyone was cracking up now.

"No, Sir. Wish I did. But I don't know him." replied Tony.

"Mores' the pity, Tony. You'd definitely like him." said Harry. "Better be about your duties or Jacques' going to think you've joined us as a dinner guest." chuckled Harry as Tony made a slight nod with his head and literally scampered back towards the kitchen.

Harry and his guests engaged in light conversation. Bryce and Harry talked about the possible new Polo pony Harry had seen earlier. Keaton, on the other hand, engaged Aedan in a discussion on the training methods of the SAS.

They were interrupted by the return of Tony carrying the tray with their entrees. He was being followed closely by Jacques.

To be Continued

*** Thank you for reading. Hopefully you are all enjoying our story as much as we enjoyed writing it. ***