Kings & QueensbySoftly©
Rupert Carruth and his wife Emily are social stalwarts in the greater New York City area. Rupert, an icon of Wall Street, was not a man to be crossed. Men and companies had been ruined, because of a minor trespass into his domain. Emily, as his wife, and knowing the fear that he generated, was prone to throw her weight around.
The Carruths were regulars at the mayor's mansion, as well as other political gatherings. You did not win an election in the state of New York without Rupert's blessing, which you received on your assurance that you would do his bidding.
They ran their household with an iron hand, as their daughter, Amelia, well knew. Emily, from the time Amelia was in first grade, had plotting Amelia's development, which included becoming a debutante, college at Wellesley, and finally marrying into a family of prestige, money, and power. Power. Above all else, the Carruths respected power.
Amelia just wanted to have friends like other kids did. That was out of the question at "Blue Ridge Institute," in Sparta New Jersey. There were only girls there. In addition, her parents demanded that the administrators limit the number of girls that she came into contact with.
Amelia got her first taste of being a normal kid when her parents sent her to "Eagle Mountain Girl's Camp," on Lake Champlain in Vermont. For three years she was a camper. Then, for two years, she was a counselor's assistant. Finally, the summer before she started college, she was a counselor. For the very first time in her life, she did not have someone keeping track of her every movement.
Four southern counselors in cabin twenty-two thought that they would have all the dates. But that was not the case. Early in July, Libby Smith, who was in Amelia's cabin, twenty-six, asked her, "Amelia, I have a date with a really nice guy tonight. He has a friend. Do you want to go on a blind date?"
Until that time, Amelia had known a few boys as friends, but had never had a date. "I would love to go."
They were free for the date at nine-thirty, after the campers were in bed. Back, after a movie, and a "Coke," it was not an exciting date for Libby, but for Amelia, it was just wonderful.
Soon, she and Jim Simpson were an every night thing. Not only was she getting to know a boy, but also she was getting to see places, and things in Vermont, that appealed to Jim, such as a deserted beach, being out on the lake in his boat in the moonlight, walking in the rain, watching a thunderstorm play in the mountains. He took her to meet his parents, his friends. It was all low key.
What there was not was any pressure to do things that her mother would disapprove of.
For Amelia it was a summer that made her heart sing.
On August twenty-seventh, her father arrived at camp. She was taken to the local airport, flown by his company plane to Boston, and settled into her dorm at Wellesley. Her summer romance was over.
Sure, she and Jim wrote letters to each other. That continued for five years. After college, Amelia took a job at the "United Nations" building in New York. She met and begins to date "William, Duke of Hensinger," special assistant to the British Ambassador. It seemed to Amelia that her parents thought that she was to be the next Queen from the way they purred over William. That was not it at all. Her father was well aware that William was heir to the "Hensinger Liquors."
William, for his part, had a perfect read of the Carruth family. The part that he loved was the parents continually were plotting for he to be alone with their daughter, so that he could have his way with her. Rupert's ruthlessness was no threat to him. His American wholesalers could buy and sell Rupert. Emily was a good-looking bitch, who drank way too much. Maybe someday, he would fuck her, just for the merry hell of it. But, it was Amelia that was his object of attention, since he was sure that she was a virgin.
William played his cards very well. Very well, indeed. He charmed Emily. He would mention to Rupert that his father had said that he would be the chairman of the board by the time that he was forty-five.
When he mentioned that he would like for Amelia to spend the weekend with him on the royal yacht, anchored offshore near Martha's Vineyard, neither Mr. nor Mrs. Carruth murmured a word of caution or disapproval. William was beside himself. He would fuck Amelia until he could not get his cock hard again.
Rupert knew his daughter would be fucked. Emily suspected as much. Amelia looked forward to a social weekend. She imagined that the crew would be there, plus several of the other "Royals" in the area would use the yacht.
Amelia did not fully understand that they were alone until she was standing on the deck of the yacht, some half mile out, surrounded by the black ocean. They had just finished dinner at the "Helmsman" restaurant.
William led her by the hand to the aft cabin. William's cock was rock stiff. In the dark, he gathered Amelia in his arms. He lowered the zipper to her dress.
"William, I thought that we were coming to a party."
"We are going to celebrate, my dear."
"William, you're lowering my dress?"
William made sure to lower her slip at the same time. They were around her ankles. With practiced ease, he lowered her to her back. Smoothly he tossed off his clothes, and was soon naked.
Amelia was curious about sex. She imagined that someday William would be interested in it. She thought that they would discuss it first. As she raised herself to her elbows, he lie upon her. His kiss was hard, demanding, as she fell back under his weight. His hands scooped her panties down, off her fanny. His foot came up. His toes caught in the panties, pushed them off her legs. His finger found her virgin slit.
William begin to tremble, as his cock throbbed. His fingers spread the lips apart. He was trembling so hard. He had to tell himself to relax, as his cock slid into the indentation of her opening. I must take my time, he thought. He kissed Amelia. Amelia was a tall girl. She shifted her body beneath him. As she did so, the end of his cock eased, ever so slowly, into her.
Amelia shifted herself again, since the weight of William's body was spreading her legs uncomfortably. She raised her legs so that they were even with his waist. William's ass tightened, as he pushed his cock deeply in her amazingly tight cunt.
"I love you, Amelia. Oh, so much."
Amelia was not sure what love was, but at age twenty-three she damn well knew that she was a woman, who had woman's urges between her legs. Urges, that her finger, or a small vibrator, did not satisfy. William, what ever else he was, had a cock, a real hot cock that was in her. Amelia's mother had set up an appointment with a doctor, so that Amelia would obtain a prescription for the "Pill." She had been on them for a month.
They were alone. They would be alone all weekend. Naked in the dark, Amelia decided that she would fuck "William, Duke of Hensinger" as long and as often as he cared to mount her.
"Oh, William, you feel so good in me. Do me, please do me?"
The steward who changed the sheets the following Monday found nineteen dried pools of cum. William was very pleased with himself. Not only had he added another virgin to his belt, but also she informed him, that no boy had even felt her breasts. He constantly had his hands on her, a fact not missed by Mrs. and Mr. Carruth, who both were convinced that their daughter was no longer a virgin. Rupert got a hard-on thinking of William taking Amelia. He would have paid a lot of money to watch that.
Amelia went along with the flow, so to speak. Deep down, she thought of William as shallow, but she thought the same thing about her parents, especially Rupert. William was very attentive, if you can call having sex five or six times a week attentive. She often wondered just what William did.
After two years…. William phoned Amelia at the UN building, where she worked.
"United States council's office, Amelia Carruth. May I help you?"
"Amelia, William here. I have some distressful news. I must be leaving for London tomorrow."
"When will you be returning?"
"I'm afraid that my father has requested that I take on additional responsibilities at the company, so I shall not be returning any time soon."
"William, what about us?"
Not wanting to burn his bridges, William had rehearse just what he would tell her, hoping that she would be available for him, should he visit the states. "Amelia, I love you so, but my family has suggested that I should wait until the right time before taking a wife."
Amelia had spent her life hearing her father tell people one thing to their face, and later tell Emily another thing. She knew instantly that "William, Duke of Hensinger," is a lying phony.
Without saying another word, Amelia hung the phone up. She stood looking out the window of her office for five minutes. She did not cry. That would come later. Her thoughts went over the things that William had told her, many of which, she now knew, were designed to convince her of his love, so she would respond with her love, or more accurately, her body, as she had.
She had been used, time and again, for his enjoyment. She pictured the cynical bastard laughing. He had pulled it off. She should have seen it coming, she concluded.
As she went over the events, her resentment spread to include her parents. They should have suspected that William was a phony.
It was at that moment that Rupert and Emily Carruth lost control of their twenty-nine year old daughter.
By chance, three weeks before, she had received e-mail from Jim Simpson. Two years ago, she had told him about her attachment to William.
It read; "Are you still dating that Royal? If not, why not come up and visit me?"
At the time that she received it, she thought it was absurd, or so she believed. She had expected that William would propose at any moment. She fancied that she would please her parents by marrying William. She had even looked into the type of mansion William would probably reside in. It was not absurd now. She had to get away from her job, this city, and her parents. She had to.
Her e-mail was brief. "Jim, I will be arriving on "Delta" flight 1707 at 2:18 PM, Thursday. If you are sure that I will not be any trouble for you, I would like to visit. Amelia."
It was on final approach that Amelia thought to herself, I am meeting with a man that I have not seen for ten years. I only knew him for one summer, when we both were nineteen year old. She had no idea what he did for a living, where he lived, or even if he had married. He was, in fact, a complete stranger. Except, she trusted him. Smiling wryly to herself, she mused that she had trusted William too. Would she get burned again?
She recognized him standing at the end of the concourse. He had filled out, with broad shoulders. His clothes contrasted with hers. She, in a tailored suit, was a fashion plate. He, in faded jeans, loose New York Giant's shirt, and loafers, was Mr. Relaxed.
Her luggage did not arrive. Damn.
His car was relaxed too, an old green "Jeep." A fifteen minute drive found them pulling up to his large log cabin on the lakeshore.
Upon entering, Amelia slowly wandered around, without saying a word. There was a big table, with deep soft chairs. An old Chinese rug lay at the foot of the stairs. A wood box, scared and ruff, sat in the corner. On the mantelpiece sat a little mud god with a painted face. Nothing was correct or in period style. An old hound dog was licking Jim's hand. A tough old tomcat lay on a concert grand piano.
Her gaze fell on the three large pictures hanging on the wall. One in oil hung over the fireplace. It was of a wind-swept-sea. The second was… a freakish thing, which was gaudy and bright. A nude on a striped zebra skin.
As she studied the last painting, tears flowed down her cheeks. It hung over Jim's desk. The eyes in the picture were meeting hers. The lips were curved in a fine sweet line. There was a wistful, tender, provocative smile. She turned to face Jim. "From my class picture that I gave you in 1992?"
"Yes, if you look closely, you will see that the artist dated the picture in 1998."
"Jim, I had no idea that you thought of me this way."
"From the first time that I saw you. You were not ready then. Lets get to know each other, my way."
"How is that?"
"Slow and easy."
Amelia looked at Jim. Her eyes squinted. She looked again at her portrait. She was a long way from Manhattan, in more ways then one. She again looked at Jim.
Jim laughed. "Amelia, come with me." As they walked down the hall, he continued, "I am putting you in this bedroom. It is your private place. I will not enter it, unless you invite me in. I am going to get you one of my long cotton shirts, and a pair of jeans, for you to change into. While you are doing that, I will cook, burgers, corn, and potatoes on the grill. "How do you like your burgers?"
"Coming right up. Should be ready in twenty minutes. Drink before dinner?"
Smiling, Amelia answered, "No, thank you. And Jim, thank you for taking the pressure off me."
What Jim did next, he had done many times ten years ago, but she had forgotten, until now. Jim rubbed her arm, as he kissed her on the forehead. Amelia's family was not touchers. William only held her when he had taking her to bed on his mind. She remembered it now. Jim touched her, just to show affection.
He was gone.
The dinner took place out on a deck, overlooking the lake. After they finished, Jim asked. "Want to take a ride?"
"In my boat."
The lake was calm. They rode for an hour. After it got dark they stopping off the city of Burlington, which was lighted by the normal city lights.
It was so peaceful for Amelia.
"How do you find your way around the lake?"
"I have been a "Captain" since I was eighteen. I know the navigation lights.
She looked at him in the moonlight. He was a master of what and where he was. There was a peace in being with him.
When they returned to the dock, she was sorry the trip was over. In bed, she, for the first time, felt that she was protected by someone who cared for her.
The next morning at breakfast, she asked Jim, "Have you dated?"
"Have you been married?"
"No, my job was very demanding, and the right girl was not available."
Amelia just shook her head.
"What do you do?"
"You do not need to know, yet. When you ask me to marry you, I will tell you."
"Jim, honestly, I don't know what to make of you. The last guy that I dated just used me. What are you after? The girl in the picture? She does not exist anymore. My parent's money? What? Is your job honorable? Me ask you to marry me? I don't know about that?"
Jim displayed a side of himself that she had never seen. He leaned forward towards her. He was dead serious. Let's take your comments by the numbers, shall we.
First, the "Royal" that you dated is "William, Duke of Hensinger," heir to the Hensinger Liquors. He has been seducing young girls since he was a teenager. His father forced the maids to be his sex toys. He has three bastard kids that he does not pay a cent to support.
He first had lengthy sex with you on a yacht moored off Martha's Vineyard. He never loved you, nor did you love him. I have copies of e-mail that he sent to other woman setting up sexual contacts; during the time that he was dating you.
Second. The girl does exist. If the woman sitting here will give me a chance, the trusting, loving, classy girl that I knew will find a trusting home. Here!"
Third. I know all about your father. Much more then you do, I'm sure. I don't give a "Rats Ass" for his money. Let me tell you how it will play out. When He finds out that you are seriously considering marrying me, he will try to find a way to run me off the charts. Finding no employer to muscle, he will contact me directly. I will fly my own plane to "LaGuardia." I will meet with your father and his personal attorney. After that meeting, Rupert will become a doting father-in-law."
"If he doesn't?"
"He will. Or, the "Securities and Exchange Commission will close down Carruth brokerage" and your father and that shyster attorney of his will spend ten big ones in "Leavenworth."
Amelia, like all the Carruths, knew power when she saw it. This man loved her. He was not lying. Doting father-in-law? That she had to see.
"Last but not least, don't answer this now, but it is on the table. Amelia, I want to marry you. Please do me the honor of being my wife? Why not answer it? You are a New York City girl. I am a man of the world, based in the nicest place to live on earth. When and if you can picture going and doing with me, then, and only then, tell me that your ready. Okay?"
Amelia sat for several moments without saying a word. Waves were softly breaking nearby. The smell of seaweed was in the air. The wind, out of the south, moved her hair. It was so clean, warm, and comfortable here. She looked down. This man had the evidence to ruin her father, if he tried to interfere with them.
She thought about the "Men" that she knew in the city. Pretty boys, with no tans. Hands that had no calluses. A blur of weaklings that smoked pot, sniffed coke, and are working ants. "I'm in for a look."
The next several days offered many insights to Mr. Jim Simpson: fishing in the rain, boating in whitecaps, climbing mountains, spending a quiet day reading. Then, "be gone for three days," he announced.
"Where to? Can I go along?"
"Washington. You can't go along on these trips until you propose to me. You would be considered a security risk now," he answered with a big smile.
That night, Amelia lay in "Her" bedroom, smiling to herself. He had been as good as his word. He kissed her anytime she was near. He put his arm across hers or around her waist. But, he had not come on to her, tried to feel her tits, or ass.
It was just what she had needed. She had phoned her mother to tell her that she was leaving her job at the UN, and would be staying in Vermont, until further notice. Her mother had phoned back, asking questions about this Mr. James Simpson.
A day after Jim returned, Rupert phoned. Jim and he had a short conversation. The next day Jim went to New York City. He returned shortly after two PM. Amelia watched him intently. He was Jim, relaxed as ever. It was driving her crazy. Finally, she blurted out, "Well, damn it, you know I want to know the details?"
Jim threw his head back as he laughed. "Emily and Rupert will be my house guests tomorrow afternoon, evening, and through the next night. Rupert and I are going to go fishing."
"My father has never been fishing in his life."
"Yes, he told me that. I told him that I would take his sorry-ass fishing whether he liked it or not. Your mother is coming alone, wearing a bikini. She pissed and moaned. I told her that if I heard another word that she would come along buck-assed naked. That shut her up.
I thought that the attorney, Milton Budham, would have a heart attack on the spot when I told him that he was going to donate $50,000.00 to the "Boy's and Girl's" club due to his wanting forgiveness for his past financial sins. Amelia, remember how they controlled every event in your life. Well, it's payback time. Care to go fishing tomorrow?"
"I would not miss it for the world."
In fact, the fishing trip went without incident, or sort of. They caught a bucket full of fish. Jim was the Jim that Amelia knew, as pleasant as could be. The only way to describe her father was that he all but kissed Jim's ass.
Emily seemed to adjust to the changes in the pecking order. She sunbathed on the bow. Jim hit on her a bit when he came up to her with the sunscreen and informed her that he would apply it to her. Amelia all but laughed when Jim applied sunscreen on the exposed sections of Emily's tits, as well as up her legs to her crotch. By the time that he was finished he had felt her up, as Emily eyed him in wonderment. As Jim finished, he told Emily. "Boy, you have a very attractive body. I'll bet the men at the "Long Island Gardner Country Club" have tried to be with you."