Shock Fucked In The Back When She Stops Filling The Cock With Blood

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Shock Fucked In The Back When She Stops Filling The Cock With Blood

The transition from catwalk starlet to royal princess had not been an easy one for Zofie. Her thirst for freedom had finally overwhelmed her, and she had hatched a plan to 'escape' the confines of the palace and the rigmarole and bureaucracy that kept her penned in. After her audacious break out, meeting up with the stricken British holiday-maker added a dash of spice. Tom was the hunk who didn't know it and Zofie loved his self-effacing charm. Now, credit card in hand, she intended to do some damage! Zofie parked at the end of one of the arcades and the two new friends walked down past numerous boutiques and jewellers. Tom looked through the window of one shop and was blown away by the prices. There were some cars that cost less than a few of their hand bags. At the end of the little arcade near a mediaeval archway was her favourite shoe shop. Tom had always found shopping for shoes a bit of an ordeal. He shortly found out that this was no ordinary shopping trip. The first remarkable thing, was that one didn’t just walk into the shop. You had to press a buzzer to be let in. Zofie entered, lifting her shades. The two assistants smiled courteously at first but their body language changed abruptly when they saw who their customer was. One of them disappeared in the back and the other greeted Zofie with a warm welcome. The second assistant returned with a smartly dressed older woman whose manner, Tom thought was a little on the obsequious side. Even though he couldn’t understand a word she was saying, sucking up was sucking up in any language. “Good afternoon! Your Royal Highness!” We hadn’t been told to expect you.” “It’s okay. I’m a little incognito today, so if you could keep it low key…” said Zofie. “Of course. But we can get you something! A coffee perhaps?” Tom wasn’t sure if all the customers got this treatment or if it was the local way. He had been to one or two posh shops in London with his ex, but had never been given fresh coffee before. Tom sat quietly in the corner. The two assistants were all smiles. Except there was no fakery in their attitude or the attention they paid to Zofie. Zofie put on one pair, which were patent pink with sparkling gems stones around the instep. “What do you think to these?” she said, striking a pose for Tom. “Superb! Those shiny things, are they what I think they are?” asked Tom. Zofie smiled and nodded in the affirmative. She didn't just try on shoes, she milked the moment, admiring herself in the mirror, chatting to the assistants and smiling brightly at Tom from time to time, who simply sat and absorbed the whole thing. “I’ll have those,” said Zofie to the girl. “And those.” Tom’s face was glowing when they returned to her car. He dared not ask how much she had just spent on footwear. Zofie gave Tom a warm smile as she put her shoes behind her seat. “Well Mr Tom, I don’t know about you but I could do with a nice shower after all this excitement.” Talk of Zofie taking a shower made Tom’s heart miss a beat. He was still unwilling to presume that Zofie’s hospitality extended beyond kindness. For all her warmth she had an element of inscrutability. Tom was getting to the point of being flustered. He didn’t go for easy women but at the same time, he normally read the signs. Not with Zofie. They arrived at a very posh-looking hotel after a few minutes drive. Tom noted the five stars above the entrance, where two uniformed porters were eating. Zofie gave one of them her car keys, taking her shoes with her into the foyer. The Princess was wearing her shades again as the sun had come out and she entered the hotel with Tom by her side. The interior of the reception was in a rather ostentatious Art Nouveau style. There was a little fountain at one end and it reminded Tom of a scene from a Poirot movie. “I would like a room please, but I would be grateful if you would be discrete.” Zofie waited for a reaction but it was clear that the young male receptionist had failed to recognize her. The conversation had attracted the attention of the manager, who appeared from the small room behind reception. His face turned white when he saw Zofie and he manhandled the boy out of the way. “I am sorry Your Highness! Had I known!” He reached below the desk and handed her a plastic card. Then he shouted instructions to the porters, who relieved her and Tom of their luggage. “Thank you and discretion please!” said Zofie. “Yes Madam.” “If anyone contacts the hotel and I mean anyone… I am not here.” “Of course Madam, I haven’t seen you.” “What’s going on?!” Do people always jump when you ask them?” asked Tom. They entered the lift and alighted at the fifth floor. Zofie turned to her companion and folded her shades, putting them in her hand bag. “You will find out sooner or later. I am Zofie Maria Vladislava, Princess of Bohemia.” “Princess?!!” “Yes!” “Princess?” “Yes Tom.” Tom repeated himself because he couldn’t think of anything more meaningful or appropriate. He turned to Zofie when they stepped into the corridor where the porters were waiting. “Seriously?” She opened the door to her room and invited Tom to enter. When he saw inside, he realised she wasn’t joking. It was palatial. This was the Royal Suite. The room was nearly as big as his house and accounted for one half of the fifth floor. The wardrobes must have been twenty feet across. There was an ornate gold and lilac dressing table with guilt edged mirrors. The chandelier which hung from the ceiling was dripping with crystal. Then he saw the bed. It was hidden around the corner. It was the biggest bed he had ever seen. It had huge brass posts at each corner and a plush, purple velvet headboard, which was embroidered with the Royal crest. “Thank you,” she said, as the porters left, bowing their heads slightly. She closed the door and threw herself on to the bed. “Don’t you just love it here!” said Zofie. “It’s amazing!” said Tom. Zofie rolled onto her back and Tom’s eyes were drawn immediately to her mount of Venus. He felt a pang of anxiety. Zofie was the sexiest woman he had ever seen, never mind shared a room with. Zofie sat up, her eyes beginning at his and then gradually lowering to focus on the swelling in his jeans. Zofie was well aware of the effect she had on Tom. The manner of their meeting had given her a nice opportunity to tease. There was nothing wrong in building up his expectations, it would make it all better; for both of them. Tom rubbed his eyes, thinking of something to say. He was hovering, waiting to be invited to sit or do something. It was a delightfully awkward moment. Just a few seconds, but long enough for Zofie to turn the screw as Tom’s eyes wandered up and down her body. Somehow, because of how she was sitting, her dress was clinging to her body. “Ummm… Zofie?” Zofie put a finger to her lips and smiled. “I think I’ll take that shower now, be a darling and run it for me.” “Oh…run the shower. Yes, of course. How stupid of me not to have thought…” Tom disappeared into the bathroom, leaving Zofie giggling to herself. She waited for the sound of sprinkling water. Then she stepped off the bed and kicked off her pumps. A tingling feeling ran through her body as she began to undo her dress. Tom turned, he looked into her eyes and then he noticed the dangling laces on the bodice. Her cleavage was visible and Tom gazed at the continuation of her breasts under her dress. “Okay,” said Tom. “Hope it’s not too hot, I’ll just…” Tom moved towards the little linen room, which divided the bathroom from the main suite. Zofie caught his wrist and pulled him back. “Where are you going?” “I’ll take mine in a bit.” “Will you now?” said Zofie, continuing to unlace the front of her dress. Tom felt as if he was caught in some surreal alternate reality, not allowing himself to snap out of the dream. “The buttons please Mr Tom,” she said, pointing to her waist. The steam had begun to rise from the shower. Tom’s hands were trembling as he popped the first button of the three, which secured the dress. He had lost any will power he might have had and his hard on progressed to the point of discomfort. Zofie made a couple of wriggles of her shoulders and her dress fell like a tiny avalanche and became a crumpled carpet of snow around her feet. Tom stood open mouthed. If she had been desirable before, in her bra and panties she was distinctly arresting. Zofie slid her hand over Tom’s swelling and took hold of the zipper between her thumb and forefinger. Tom was beginning to boil over. This couldn’t be real. No one was this hot. Her underwear must have been bespoke. Tom considered himself something of a connoisseur when it came to breasts. He had always thought that there was a fine line between a good handful and breasts that were too big to be fun. Zofie occupied that rare territory of ‘just more than enough.’ Tom ran his fingers along the outline of her brassiere, as Zofie turned the waistband down on his jeans. She surveyed the lovely ‘V’ which emerged above his striped boxers. She wanted to stroke his abs, but his shirt was in the way. “Take it off Tom.” He obeyed her instructions undoing his buttons frantically as she tugged at his jeans and cupped his condiments, which filled his shorts beautifully. His dick was like a handle, pushing the front open comically. Zofie ran her hands over his chest and drew her fingers down his abdomen. He had a cute row of hairs down the middle, dark and downy. She encouraged him to unfasten her bra as she began to inch down her panties. Tom’s breathing had become shallow and he had to gulp a lungful of air as the last catch came loose and her bra slipped away. She turned her back to him and rubbed her bum into his hardness. Tom closed his eyes as he weighed her breasts in his hands. They were remarkably uptilted for their size and Tom’s hands closed around them gently, his thumbs brushing her nipples. Zofie shivered and walked towards the shower. She turned to look back at Tom and slipped off her panties. For a moment he was frozen to the spot, his pulse more beats per minute than was good for him. The corner of Zofie’s mouth turned up when she saw him in his all his glory. Standing in the shower, Tom wondered if there was some etiquette involved with nude bathing and a Princess. He was so hard and his manhood was throbbing, pressed against her belly. He took some of the rose-scented soap and rubbed the lather into her breasts. Zofie took a little of the foam and slid her hand along the underside of his wood. She kissed his shoulder, masturbating him slowly. He responded kissing her neck and then squeezed the loafer delivering a soapy river down the groove in her spine. Her touch was fabulous, stroking him perfectly, his foreskin moving in just the right way. He stroked her face as the water ran over her long blonde hair. Their lips met and he kissed her softly as his right hand cupped her bottom. Her cheeky buttocks were so good - wet and soapy. Firm but so soft. Their kiss grew in passion, any slight politeness giving way to raw emotions. At the same time Tom’s hand slipped under her right cheek and then between her legs. “Oh Zofie!” “Ooh Tom!” She turned and took another look at his seven inches. Tom adjusted the sprinkler, reducing the force of the spray as she placed her hands against the wall of the shower. Her back arched, her bum pointed towards him and her heavenly pinkness was offered. Tom entered her in a single movement, producing a growl of satisfaction and a long moan from his lover. Tom weighed one breast in his hand, his other gripping her hip as he slammed into her pussy. Her cheeks quivered with the thrusts, each one accompanied by a loud sigh of pleasure from Zofie. Tom was so hard, at least as hard as any man she could remember. In this position his cock was sliding against her G spot with each thrust. Her hair was wet and lank moving in time to his rhythm. The steam from the shower had made their bodies stay moist with perspiration and Tom held on to her hips. Her skin was so slippery she seemed to fall away from him and he had to dig his finger nails into her hips. His thumbs made little white dimples in her bum cheeks, as Zofie whimpered helplessly. Tom slipped his hands under her, where her hips met her pelvic bone and took her weight as she put one hand on the silver shower pipe. Her other hand was gripping his sinewy thigh muscle as they fucked. Tom was so hard and Zofie could feel every inch of his length and girth sliding into her, piston like. She loved the heat of the shower, the sexy, breathless sex and how he was groaning with each thrust. His hands held her so tightly but with such care and yet he was taking her with such power. It was driving her wild. Zofie was starting to cum, she just needed him to maintain the rhythm. Tom could feel her pussy change. He banged her pussy, savouring the exquisite tightness and then the increased wetness and she cried out. “Tom! Hmmmmm!!! Oh Fuck!!! Oh Tom Yes!” “Oh God Zofie! You’re amazing!” Oh! Oh Yes Tom! Oh that’s so good… just… OHHH! Oh FUCK!!!” Tom breathed hard, holding back. He was so close himself, but Zofie’s body was trembling and he knew she was about to come again and then he would come. His cock was so hot, burning as her pussy went into spasm and then the gentle flow of her ejaculation; her body actually shaking. The intensity of her orgasm sent shockwaves through both of them. Her words a mixture of Czech and English, half spoken, half screamed. Tom pulled out and his orgasm erupted in a long rope which landed on her bottom and over her back. “Ooooooargh! Fuck! Zofie!” Tom was momentarily light headed but steadied himself and then turned up the water pressure. Zofie joined him rubbing her head on his shoulder and squeezed his bum. Tom’s penis was still hard, still pumping. Zofie stroked the end and worked the last few drops of semen. She watched it dribble out, mingling in with the shower. Then she looked up and they kissed again. *** Back at the palace Zofie was officially AWOL. The head of security had called an urgent meeting with the chief of staff, who ordered an immediate gathering of all the servants. To involve the police inevitably meant to involve the King. If at all possible they wanted to avoid that. The young guard had been the last to see her and Zofie and was now being dragged over hot coals. The fact was, when Zofie’s blood was up, she was not one who was easy to defy. It was all very well the head of security laying down the law, he hadn’t been there. Inevitably the questioning turned to Jirina. She had some influence and would be able to send her lady a text message. She alone held that privilege among the household. Zofie picked up the phone by the bed and ordered a bottle of Moet Chandon with two glasses. Tom appeared with a towel wrapped around his waist. Zofie pursed her lips. She loved the way the veins stood out on his arms, the firmness of his pecs, like two discs. “There’s a robe in the closet,” said Zofie. “However, if you want to remain like that, I won’t complain.” “As you please, Your Highness,” said Tom, sarcastically. “So your day didn’t quite turn out as planned?” said Zofie, rubbing her hair dry. “You could say that. I still think I’m going to wake up in a minute.” Zofie grinned and sat up on the bed and stroked him through the fluffy white towel. “Ha! No… this is real,” she said. “Damn you’re just too hot!” said Tom, beginning to feel aroused again. “I don’t know what you mean,” said Zofie, in shameful display of primness. Tom knelt on the bed and bent down to kiss her, when there was a knock on the door. Tom paused just a second before their lips met and smiled resignedly. “That will be the Champagne, if you wouldn’t mind,” she said. “My pleasure,” said Tom. Zofie held one of the glasses as Tom fiddled with the wire sheath and then popped the cork. “Whoo! Don’t lose any!” “Hold you glass still then!” Zofie drank some and offered her glass for a refill after Tom had half-filled his own. “How long before you recover?” asked Zofie. “You mean…?” “Yes.” “I’ve recovered now!” “Really?” “I thought fifteen minutes was about average.” “Has it been fifteen minutes?” Zofie was untying the belt on her pink robe as she spoke. Tom took a few gulps of Champagne. It was like she was revealing herself for the first time. Except there was a certain degree of calculation in her denouement this time. There was no fiddly buttons, no bra straps to contend with, just her gorgeous body and the soft cotton of her dressing gown. The effect on Tom was immediate. She looked into his eyes as her hand went further, until the single loose bow had come undone and two halves of her robe fell open. Zofie looked at him expectantly. The garment slipped down her arms onto the bed and she knelt there, naked. Tom placed his glass at the side of the bed next to hers and walked to the end where she was kneeling. He gazed down at her breasts with a feeling of joy. They were so fulsome, yet pert, rising to the little domes of her nipples. Zofie sat up and perched on the edge of the bed. Tom had not quite realized till now how long her hair was. She was so blonde and her eye brows matched the little tufts of her landing strip. As her hair had begun to dry it assumed a slightly tousled look, with naturally curling ringlets falling onto her shoulders. He lifted a few locks of hair and played with it while Zofie undid his belt. She looked at his cock, which was almost indecently hard. “I’ll know where to come if I ever need a towel rail.” Tom was too occupied in fondling her breasts to acknowledge her quip. He brushed her nipples with the back of his index finger. Zofie stroked him in a similar way, enjoying the hotness on the back of her hand and the way he twitched each time. Zofie looked up at Tom, his hazel eyes yearning for her and then she kissed his shiny head. “Oh Zofie, you’re gorgeous baby, properly gorgeous!” Zofie smirked and licked his glans making him glisten with her saliva. Tom’s cock twitched and she lifted it slightly and rolled her tongue over his fraenulum. Tom drew breath sharply. In his extreme arousal he had become super sensitive. Zofie’s gentle little strokes with his tongue were mind blowing. Zofie delighted in teasing, her inner minx coming to the fore. She stroked his firm legs, sliding her hands inside his thighs as she closed her lips around his glans. She sucked him with the lightest pressure and then licked his engorged head in the same way as she melted an ice lolly. Tom stood with hands on hips, leaving Zofie to help herself to his rigid stick of candy. His moans were involuntary, anguished moans of the most intense pleasure. Tom had not experienced a blow job quite like this. Her mouth was like magic. She rolled her tongue round and round the tip, which was growing ever red and looked up at Tom as she sucked him again. She loved the way he was responding, the gasps of pleasure, his deep groans and they way he said her name. Zofie liked the way the day had panned out. Her little trip that had broken all the rules. The wine and the impromptu shopping trip and of course the polite, slightly self-effacing Tom. Now she was letting her hair down with him, in the best way possible. Sucking him was not only a treat for her man, but she enjoyed it too. In fact, it was a huge turn on and she was getting wet. She increased the pressure on his phallus as Tom stroked her hair. He was moving slightly, just out of time with her. Zofie breathed through her nose as he fucked her mouth. The deeper he penetrated her mouth the more it turned her on. Her pussy was tingling - aching now. Still fellating him, her right hand slipped between her legs for a little exploratory touch. Her two longest fingers entered and curled back towards her anus. She moaned as she sucked him. She needed him. Tom experienced a multitude of emotions as she pulled away and looked up at him with such passion in her eyes. She didn’t need to speak. She rolled over and then got on all fours, gathering a few pillows together. Tom held her hips, squeezing her bum and aimed his cock at her pussy. Her labia were inflamed and moist. He could see little droplets of juice forming between her little petals. Tom put his head back and let out one long deep groan as he pushed his cock into her firmly. She was not only wet, but her pussy felt hot, as if he was fucking a tight little oven. His passion was inflamed from the sight of her beautiful bottom quivering. Zofie was getting tighter and wetter. His size and the way her was holding on to her made Zofie feel sexy and horny. She loved having her bum squeezed and then when he reached round to fondle her breasts she held her hand against his, imploring him to squeeze her boobs until she could feel her first mini orgasm ripple over her, making her belly tremble. Tom was groaning. Zofie could only whimper, her gentle cries of pleasure becoming the same repeated mew as he went in and out. Taking her in the shower had been wild. The first time, he was almost too aroused to properly appreciate the beauty of the moment. Now he was in the bedroom, the curtains nearly drawn but enough light to illuminate her delicious body. She gripped the pillows, scrunching them as he increased the pace and force of his thrusts. She could feel every inch of his manhood. Zofie was beginning to feel dizzy, her body now aching, screaming out for release. She was getting closer and closer, as he seemed to be going deeper and deeper. To push her
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self over the edge her fingers made for her sensitive, swollen little nodule. Tom could feel his cock sliding over her fingers. He knew she was giving herself that extra, secret little pleasure. The sheer violence of her orgasm made Tom cum at the same time. Her pelvis was thrusting backwards and forwards, biting on her fingers, which made her words inaudible not that he understood what she was saying. But a girl’s orgasm is the same in English or Czech but hers was beautifully over the top and Tom had a few seconds warning as always and savoured the last few seconds before releasing his own ejaculation over her bottom. He growled even louder than before, releasing every ounce of pleasure as he unloaded his cum. Zofie remembered how he had saved a little before and wanted that little prize for herself now. She turned, kneeling in some of the dampness that had spilt onto the duvet and licked Tom’s shaft, pulling on his foreskin. She rolled her tongue upwards along the base and caught the last few watery drops in her mouth. It was hot and sweet. “Oh my goodness! Zofie!” Tom looked at her sexy, Bohemian features. He had noticed earlier, in certain lights a certain exotic side to her features. A mysterious look, which came from thousands of years of heritage from beyond the Ural Mountains. He also noticed for the first time, as she stood up and kissed him that she had the cutest peppering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. You had to be close to see them and Tom was only too happy to be this close. Zofie looked into his eyes, they looked that bit darker in the bedroom as the sun had gone down. She brushed her hand across his cheek, enjoying the tickle of his whiskers on her palm. His manliness was so appealing. She gripped his arms, caressing his triceps, tracing her finger tips along the lines of definition. “Oh my goodness?” You are very polite Tom.” “It was a euphemism.” “Oh, I see well you can leave it to my imagination, as to what you meant.” Tom smiled and kissed her nose. “More Champagne?” said Tom. Zofie was about to answer when her phone beeped. She hadn’t taken the one that her friends contacted her on. This was her private phone. She read her message. It was from Jirina. “Is it important?” asked Tom. “Yes. It‘s my maid. They‘re having kittens back at the palace.” “Oh. So they don’t know you’re in Bratislava?” “No.” Zofie looked at Tom with a forlorn expression. Tom sat close to her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “What’s the matter Zofie? “I’m not meant to go out alone, without my body guards.” “I see, well it’s understandable. Look what happened to Diana.” “I know, I heard about that, it was terrible. But it’s not like that Tom, I’m just so stifled.” Tom kissed her forehead, producing a smile. “I know they have to protect me, but I just needed to do my own thing again.” “What will happen now?” “Oh I’ll have to go back and face the music. My father, the King, he will be mad.” Tom raised his eyebrows at the word King, further impressing upon him the rarity of his position. “I don’t know what to say Zofie. I mean - royal affairs, it’s not my area.” “It’s okay Tom, it’s sweet of you to be concerned. It’s my problem, I’ll have to deal with it.” “Will the hotel be discrete? Can you trust them?” “I think so. Although it might have already crossed Papa’s mind where I am.” Tom looked alarmed. Zofie tapped in a reply on her phone. “It’s okay, I’m just telling Jirina that I’m all right. That’s enough to call off the police, as long as I go back tomorrow.” “Okay, that’s okay then.” “Yes, but even so, it might be better that we leave alone.” Tom looked at Zofie, with a sinking feeling. He had no right to feel hard done by, but the thought of leaving her was tough. “Of course…” said Tom. Zofie saw the little boy in his eyes and put a reassuring hand on his. “But that is tomorrow Tom and today is today!” The sun returned to Tom’s face and he kissed Zofie’s cheek, stroking her arm gently. “Are you hungry Tom?” asked Zofie. “Actually, yes, I am. “Well, I don’t think it’s appropriate for us to go to the restaurant and anyway, I can’t stand the fuss.” “Well then?” asked Tom. “How does fresh salmon, a nice salad… hmmm hot sausage rolls and some canapés sound?” Absolutely terrific!” Zofie leaned across the bed and lifted the phone. A moment elapsed and she gave her list of requirements to the desk. “Do we want some sherry trifle?” she said, looking at Tom. Tom gave her the thumbs up and kissed her shoulder as she put the phone back on its receiver. “Can I give you a little massage?” asked Tom. “Oh Tom, you are so thoughtful! Gently though please.” Tom loved to give a massage to a girl. He found it a very sensual experience and with someone as sexy as Zofie, very pleasurable. She rolled onto her stomach and waited to be pampered. Zofie sighed as she juggled with her predicament and Tom’s lips planted tiny kisses down her back until they reached the little dimples at the base of her spine and his hands brushed the soft pillows of her buttocks. They were like two creamy pink hills, soft and round. He thought back to that minute when she had rescued him from the desolate road. The impossible fantasies that had toyed with his imagination. Now, here he was, in a lavish royal suite giving her a massage. Her puffy love petals looked so inviting. It was just a matter of parting her legs, manoeuvring her thighs apart and he would be able to taste her heaven. Yet even after what they had done, he felt that was too much of a presumption. He wanted to wait to be invited, to be given a little sign that said he could go there. Sometimes, to wait is divine. *** Jirina folded her lady’s fresh clothes, the ones that she would have put on the next day. The palace officials were preparing to have a sleepless night with no firm plans to get Zofie back before the King returned from Stockholm. They were at the mercy of Zofie. Jirina knew where she was, but wasn’t going to give her up until Zofie gave her the word. Her loyalty could not be compromised and even if the Head of Security and Chief of Staff suspected she knew Zofie’s secret, there was nothing they could do. The hotel in Bratislava was no secret, but Zofie had friends in Prague and Bratislava as well as in Hungary. There was no reason to think she was anywhere more than anywhere else. Indeed the hotel was the last place they would suspect, being reserved for official visits. The Manager at the hotel knew this but wasn’t about to argue with the Princess. *** In London, Tom’s colleagues were putting together the final preparations for the opening day’s events. They had learnt from the last time and would make sure there wouldn’t be any empty seats. This new rail link between Heathrow and Stratford would also help with the flow of visitors, with even more expected than 2012. One of Tom’s achievements had been implementing Sir David’s vision of a truly integrated transport system and he could be genuinely proud of that. The world was about to descend on London and Paris. After 2012, Paris had prepared to enter a new bid for 2020, but with no guarantee of success. Co-hosting the Games this time, wasn’t what they would have wanted in an ideal world. However, sharing the burden with London made economic sense in a post EU era. There economy was still fragile and the tourism would be a welcome boost as well as a way of uniting the increasingly disgruntled regions in the south. The New Franc had rallied since the announcement and there were talks of a Franco-German trading zone, to strengthen the position of Europe against the might of the US and UK economies. Politics was the least of Zofie’s problems. A week earlier, she had had a row with her Mother over possible suitors. The Crown Prince of the newly formed Schleswig-Holstein was 21 and would be the perfect partner for Zofie, so her mother thought. What better way than continue the old traditions. She would be maintaining the ancient European bloodlines that had stood European monarchies in good stead for centuries. Zofie didn’t care for Prince Felix. She thought he was too much of a fop. She liked manly men, not handsome dandies. What was wrong with her marrying a commoner, when the time was right? Their genes were as good as anyone one else’s. In Zofie’s opinion, keeping it within royal families was an archaic tradition, which was fit only for the dragon-slaying days of hundreds of years ago. It was the 21st century. She wanted to go out with someone normal; someone who saw the world for what it was. Not someone who had been born with a silver spoon in their mouth. Crown Prince Felix had come straight from the nobility, unlike Zofie who was an old fashioned middle class girl. While her parents had been successful professionals, she didn’t feel she was better than everyone else, just because she was royalty. She knew that her father had assumed his role in the name of his people. His ancestors had been ousted by the Austrians and Bohemia subsumed into the Hapsburg Empire. Zofie loved her parents, but she was a modern girl with contemporary interests. She respected the problems they had grown up with under communism and how it had impacted them and all Czech people. They needed to adapt to her wishes, no matter how much it conflicted with their old fashioned values. Surely what was best for her was what she wanted, not what they thought was best for her, no matter how well intentioned. Zofie didn’t like arguing with her Mum, but she wasn’t going to budge. They had left the subject for now, but Zofie knew it wasn’t going to go away. Before her unauthorized trip, Zofie, as was her way, had thought everything through. Meeting Tom had of course been an unexpected if welcome diversion. Wherever she had ended up, she would have been faced with the issue of how she came back. The timing didn’t leave a huge amount to play with. If she made her way back in good time, she could be back at the palace and everyone there would be happy and the King none the wiser. But, what would be the point in that? It would mean her actions stood for nothing other than a display of independence. She would have gained nothing and nothing to bargain with. On the other hand what if she waited for her parents to return before she came back? There would be a furore and a lot of wringing of hands and maybe they would give her more freedom, with some concessions. But what if it backfired? What if her father put his foot down in a display of authority and increased security? Zofie didn’t want that. She needed to be clever. The next day was so bright and sunny. The laburnum blossom blew along the boulevards in the morning breeze. Zofie opened her eyes. The sun was pouring through the gap in the curtains, giving the room a beautiful lemon glow. She turned over and her hand touched the space where Tom had been. “Tom?” she said, sleepily. “Good morning your Royal Beautifulness,” he said, appearing from around the corner with a tray of cookies and two cups. He perched on the bed and handed her a cup of fresh coffee. “Hmmm… thank you Tom! The smell of coffee is so good, don‘t you think?” “Yes, did you sleep well?” said Tom. “Yes, I did thank you. I don’t remember going to sleep.” “That’s good. I need a shave!” said Tom, stroking his stubbly chin. “Oh you’re okay. Nothing wrong with a little testosterone!” “Well, if you say so!” “I do.” Zofie got up and walked to the bathroom naked. Tom was in his sleeping shorts and watched her, a twitch of lust beginning to cause disarray in his nether areas. His flight was only four hours away and knew that after today he might never see Zofie again. After a minute or two he heard the shower sprinkling and then Zofie appeared. “Did you shower Tom?” she said, coolly. “Not yet.” “Maybe we can share and save the planet?” said Zofie, in the sexiest voice he had ever heard. Tom smiled a broad smile, aware that whatever the future held, he was going to finish his holiday in the best way he could possibly imagine. *** An hour later Zofie checked out of the hotel and waited for her car to be brought round to the front. She drove a little way and then pulled up and flipped the front on her mobile. “Yes Jirina, I’m okay. Jirina, did you find out what I asked you in the text?” Zofie smiled and headed for the highway. By her reckoning she had thirty minutes to play with. The airport would be crawling with police but in her car she could breeze through the red tape. Once out of Bratislava it was plain sailing and she had to check her speed once or twice as she was going over 140mph. She didn’t want to get pulled up. Even being who she was, the cops would have to give her a ticking off and that could waste valuable minutes. Zofie would take her car to England one day and arrange a private trip to Silverstone and see what her baby could do. She had to rein it in a bit for now. An hour and a half later she turned off and headed up the road for the airport. There were squad cars parked at the exits to most major junctions and three at the main entrance to the airport itself, plus a unit from the army. At the next traffic island there was a road block and Zofie was waved down by the military police. “Good morning, Your Royal Highness. This is a little unorthodox,” said the officer. “Yes, thought I would give Papa a surprise welcome.” “Okay. You should have an officer from the Royal protection Unit with you.” “Well, I know! There you go. Are you going to let me through or what?!” The officer looked at his comrade and shrugged. “Yes, of course Madam. Sorry to have held you up.” “Thank you!” ‘Piece of cake,’ thought Zofie as she sped up to the rear entrance of Arrivals. The King and Queen were just bypassing security and were greeted by the media as Zofie nodded to the armed guards by the doors. Her father saw her and smiled. “This is unexpected my dear. Where are your guards?” “Welcome back papa. I thought I’d just have a little run out on my own. It’s only the airport.” “Okay, well we’ll talk about this later. As long as you’re okay.” “Yes papa.” The Queen was still being interviewed by journalists and Zofie continued to the forecourt with her father. His six door Mercedes was waiting. “Are you coming back with me?” said her father, expectantly. “Yes papa, of course. Tell them to be careful with my Lambo.” The King pointed to Zofie’s yellow sports car and one of his retinue was despatched to drive it back to the palace. “Zofie, you do wear some dresses!” said her Mother as they rode back. “It’s the Summer Mum!” “I know, but it’s so… I don’t know - close fitting. It’s unseemly.” “Oh Mum!” “Your father says you came out without an escort?” “Yes, I’m so pegged in. I just fancied taking my car for a spin.” “Zofie, you’re a Princess my dear, you don’t just go for a spin and meet your father on an official engagement.” “Yes Mum, protocol I know, you said.” “I will have to speak to Security!” “It’s okay Mum, I leant on them a little, it’s not their fault.” “Maybe, but I shall still speak to them.” “Maybe if I could visit Katerina and Jana a bit more, I wouldn’t get so careless.” “And their all night parties no doubt!” “But your guards can come. They can sit in the garden and drink lemonade!” “Okay Zofie. You’re a scheming little thing aren’t you.” “Mum?” “You remind me of me at your age.” Zofie smiled and gave her Mum a kiss on the cheek. *** Tom nibbled the dog-eared piece of toast and the smoked salmon in Business Class. It was noticeably inferior to the salmon he had eaten the evening before. He sipped the white wine and closed his eyes. He thought about Zofie. ‘Oh Zofie!’ He thought. A tear formed in his eyes and he rubbed his face. “Come on, man up Tom!” he said out loud. “Would you like a top up?” asked the Stewardess. Tom nodded and did a huge sigh. He needed to absorb himself in his work now. It would be straight back into the thick of it the next day. It would help him put things back into perspective. “Coffee and a Danish?” his Secretary asked, at lunch on his first day back. Tom was staring into space. His mind was elsewhere. “Tom?” “Oh! What? Yes, yes, please Amber.” “Only ten days to go, I’m so excited Tom, aren’t you?” said his secretary enthusiastically. “I can’t allow myself to get excited until they cut the ribbon, or whatever they do.” “I know, but it’s just wonderful. I was only twelve when the last one came round. All the union Jacks and everything. Don’t you feel proud?” “Eh? Oh yes, of course I do.” “Yes. Anyway, I’ll go for the coffees.” Tom chuckled at the ebullience of his secretary. Her infectious high spirits were what he needed but he had to admit to himself that he was struggling a little. He did his best to convince himself that it meant nothing, but he could see Zofie’s face each time he closed his eyes. Even her name kept popping into his consciousness. Inevitably the sheer volume of his work on his desk, the phone calls and last minute site visits was a distraction but it would be a long time before she was completely out of his system. A week and a half later Tom left his office for the last time and headed for the gym. The Games had started and the stadiums were filling up in London as well as Paris. His work had been done and now all he could do was watch and hope all the little details paid off. To do what he had done in the time given had been like a marathon in its own right. The French President and the English Prime Minister had paid tribute to the work of the organising teams on both sides of the Channel. This would be the Games, which made both countries proud and see a new phase in Anglo-French relations. These had been tested, first with the UK leaving the EU and then with the various arguments over exports duties in the aftermath. The dissolution of the European Union two years later forged a new special relationship between the two countries. Tom was living in interesting times. The political correctness of ten years earlier had been replaced by a new vision of sensible government. Hung parliaments had become the norm and disaffected voters were turning to smaller parties, such as the Utilitarian Alliance. These demanded policies, which made sense to the people and put the wellbeing of the average man and woman over the profits for shareholders. It became clear that concessions would need to be made. Mainstream politicians were being forced to rethink their strategies in order to hold on to power. Tom was a man in the prime of life, enjoying the benefits of a good education and a healthy diet. He was becoming one of a minority of people who still looked after their bodies. Despite the changes the National Health Service was teetering on the brink of collapse. Radical, interventionist policies on food and alcohol were needed but not even the bravest politicians had gone that far yet. Zofie touched down on the tarmac at Heathrow precisely three weeks since her trip to Slovakia. She had insisted that Jirina come and that one body guard was more than enough. Boris was the first choice. He cut an imposing figure - being her father’s primary security personnel and had 10 year’s experience. If she was going with a minimum detail, the King decreed that he his best man went to protect his only daughter. The Olympics had put extra strain on the main London airports. The staff at Heathrow were well briefed in VIP arrivals. It depended exactly who it was as to what arrangements were followed. There was the extra security and vigilance as well as the relaxed approach to passport control. Zofie didn’t have to queue or have her passport scanned. A cursory glance and a smile from the official and polite nods from the plain clothes Customs people was all that hindered her arrival. She had a car waiting and her baggage was collected while she relaxed with Jirina and her Royal guard. Her arrival had been ‘leaked’ by the Palace to their friends in OK Magazine. A few natural shots of Zofie were taken as she sipped coffee in the arrivals lounge. She would be mixing with a few starlets at one of London’s top night clubs later and that would complete their portfolio. However she appeared, her beauty was like no other and her light would soon be shining around London. “How do you fancy some shopping tomorrow?” Jirina looked at her Princess and nodded eagerly. Zofie was glad to be back in London after almost a year. She had fond memories of the city and its nightlife from the time she had studied at Oxford. “Hey make sure you use the best ones!” said Zofie, when the photographer had got enough images. “Yes, I don’t think you need worry, the camera loves you!” “Ah thank you! You can come again!” He flicked through some of the shots on his viewfinder. “Oh I like that one!” said Zofie. “Yes, we’ll use that one. In fact… well it’s up to the editor but maybe the front cover?” “Ah really!” “It will make a change from you know who!” Zofie smiled, and Boris indicated that they were good to go, as soon as she was. Her few days in London had just begun. She had begun to make a list of things in her head of what she wanted to do. The friends she wanted to catch up with; the places she wanted to see and the big one. The Olympics. It was expected that two billion people would be watching the final of the 100 metres. That would be the crowning of her trip. The cherry on the cake. Almost.

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