Limousine VI by Rollerboy_1979@bodybuilders.com
Mr. Ross' passing was a sad event, made even sadder by the fact that he had very little family to give him a nice send off. His late wife and son are buried at the family estate in Scotland, not far from the Queen's castle, Balmoral. His last wish was to be cremated and interred alongside them, and per his will, I was the one assigned the task. I fulfilled his wish to be cremated, had a private memorial service for his business associates and staff, then arranged for Aaron to go ahead of me to Scotland to make preparations. After several days, I boarded the Ross Corporation MD-11 and flew overnight to Glasgow, Scotland. I deplaned at a private air terminal at Glasgow airport and could see the Rolls-Royce Phantom V limousine waiting there for me. As I descended the staircase, I saw the driver door open, and out stepped Aaron in full Highland dress. He looked magnificent in his kilt, waistcoat, sporan, and white knee length socks. "Wow, look at you", I declared. "Oh, thank you sir", he responded. I could not take my eyes off of my impressive manservant. He was breathtakingly handsome in that outfit. "You take my breath away, Aaron", I exclaimed. "You are too kind, sir", he said. "I will dress you appropriately once we get you settled in at the castle", he stated. I tingled in anticipation at the thought of wearing a kilt and I wondered what he was wearing under it. He opened the door for me, but I decided that I needed to stretch my legs after the long flight. He turned to open the trunk and put my things away, and as he bent over, I looked around to see if anyone was watching, then I lifted up his kilt and saw a most beautiful sight. His bare white ass was a big as life, taught and rock hard, and his heavy low hanging balls swung underneath him. He quickly stood up and promptly hit his head on the trunk lid. "Oh, Aaron, I'm so sorry", I said as I put my hand over my mouth. He turned and just flashed me the biggest grin, then we both broke into laughter. The ride to the Ross castle seemed to take forever. Finally, we passed the Queen's summer home, Balmoral, and Aaron exclaimed, "We're nearly there, sir". You could tell the Queen was in residence because of all the secret police cars at the entrance. When she's not there, you might see one or two, not a dozen. We soon arrived at the gate to the castle, and after passing through security, we must have driven another ten miles to the "house". My jaw dropped as I peered out of the Rolls window at the mansion looming ahead. It was the biggest single building I'd ever seen, and it made Biltmore look small. As we walked up to the huge entrance doors, Aaron explained that the castle had been in the Ross family for generations, and no one really knew how many rooms it actually has. He escorted me to my "wing" of the castle, past portraits of long dead people and British royalty. My bedroom was enormous, with a huge oil paiting of Jeremy hanging over the fireplace. I looked at the handsome young man and grieved for him, knowing that despite all this wealth and luxury, right now he would be devastated over the death of his father. Aaron reappeared after a brief time without a shirt, wearing only his kilt. His massive chest tapered down to a trim waist that seemed accentuated by the dark tartan kilt. "Your bath is ready, sir", he announced. I peeled off my clothes as I walked towards him. He could see that I was tired after that long flight and car ride, so he just scooped me up and carried me into the bathroom. The room was entirely made of marble and looked like a Roman bath. The large bathtub took up the center of the room, which must have been all of 1,000 square feet. He knelt down next to the tub and gently set me on my feet. As I steadied myself, I took the opportunity to run my hand down his huge arm. "Aaron, you seem bigger to me; is it the kilt?, I asked. "No sir, I have been injecting steroids for a time now, and it has made a difference in my muscle mass", he said. "I can start you on a cycle if you'd like, sir". "I may just do that, but not right away", I said as I melted into the tub. Aaron went into a huge walk in closet and came out with another complete kilt outfit. "Is that for me?", I asked. He responded, "Yes, sir; it's for tomorrow's internment ceremony". "You must be properly attired for the event", he added. He went on to explain that the kilt was in the Ross family tartan, and if I had to describe it, it was similar to the Black Watch with shades of black and dark blue. Jet lag and fatigue took their toll, and after my bath and dinner in my room, I was off to bed. Aaron lay with me for a time, but we didn't have sex that night out of respect for my departed benefactor. The next day we held the ceremony and had a proper Scottish burial for Mr. Ross, complete with bagpipes. He was laid to rest in a lovely garden on the estate, right next to his wife and beloved son, Jeremy. A few days passed and Aaron did his best to pleasure me many times. His new bulk was fun to fondle, and fondle it I did. One day, he came to announce that I had been invited to join the Royal Family in their private box at the Gathering of the Clans in Braemar. I felt myself get weak in the knees just thinking about it. The day came, so I dressed in my kilt and formal waistcoat, complete with the Ross coat of arms on the jacket. Aaron drove me over in the Phantom and I was escorted through security to the Queen's box. Shortly thereafter, the Royal Family arrived, the Queen, Prince Phillip, Princess Anne, Prince Charles, Camilla, Prince William and Prince Harry. The Queen was in her signature hat and purse, Camilla in a dowdy red dress, and all the men were wearing their family tartan kilts. Prince Phillip looked distinguished, Prince Charles was more homely in real life, and the boys were absolutely adorable in their kilts. I greeted each one with a handshake and bow, and when I shook Harry's hand, he winked at me. William in devastatingly handsome, with his mother's good looks, and a hint of Charles in him, and Harry has an impish look, with that red hair and freckles. He too is handsome, but with a much more boyish look about him. Throughout the games, I would occasionally look at Harry, and each time our eyes met. He'd always smile and I'd smile back then look away. This happened any number of times. I could not help but stare at him, then look at Charles. In my mind, there is no way that Charles fathered Harry. There are absolutely no similarities between the two, unlike with William. Harry has the red hair and freckles of Mr. Hewitt, Diana's riding instructor. If I had to bet, I'd lay odds on Hewitt and not Charles. As I shook their hands goodbye, Harry slipped a note into my palm. After I sat down in the back seat of the Rolls, I opened the note and read it. It said, "Meet me at the old abbey at midnight tonight, Harry". Mr. Ross was buried at the site of an old abbey near the fence of the Balmoral estate. I assumed that Harry knew a way through the fence and beyond both security cameras. As midnight approached, I made my way to the abbey, walking in the moonlight. I came to the ruins and as I approached Prince Harry came out from behind a wall, still dressed in his kilt. "Hallo", he said in his somewhat cockney voice. "Good evening, your highness", I responded. "Call me Harry, please", he said. "Okay, Harry", I said rather nervously. He then stated, "You're a fine looking chap in that kilt, and your manservant is one lovely bloke too", he said excitedly. "Oh, Aaron, yes, he's quite a hunk, eh?", I answered. He then simply took my hand and brought it down under his kilt. He placed it on his rock hard penis and did not need to say any more. "I'm willing if you are sir", he said. I sat him down and pulled up his kilt. In the moonlight I could see that he was uncut and his foreskin was still covering his cockhead. I peeled it back and took in the aroma of royal smegma. It made me wild so I immediately started to suck on his cock. I ran my tongue over his head and reamed around the inside of his foreskin. I could tell that he was inexperienced, because he moaned and shuddered, then promptly ejaculated into my mouth. I gratefully swallowed his cum and licked him clean. "Blimey, that was fookin' wonderful", he exclaimed. "I'm glad you enjoyed it Harry", I responded. "Are you a virgin", I asked. He immediately blushed and said, "Yes, yes I am". I told him that I would be honored to be his first. He knodded his head yes like an excited puppy and turned onto his hands and knees on the soft moss covered ground. I reached into my sporan (that little purse), and pulled out a little tube of lube (I'm always prepared). He pulled up his kilt to expose his bare bum, and I pulled up mine to
prepare to mate. I slowly fingered his tight asshole, gently reaming him so he could accommodate my cock. I peeled back my foreskin and gently touched my glans to his ass ring. I gently circled with it and then slowly thrust forward, he squeaked as I expanded his sphincter with my cockhead, then seemed to relax as I slowly pressed on. I was buried up to the hilt in his hot, tight ass, then started to thrust back and forth, inseminating my red headed bitch boy. There I was, fucking the second in line to the English throne, and loving every minute of it. We humped like a couple of dogs in heat. I reached down and grabbed the princely cock in my hand and jerked him as he rocked back and forth on my cock. He seemed in a trance-like state, which was good considering there were probably all sorts of security cameras and microphones nearby. He started to shudder again, then groaned and spewed long ropes of cum onto the mossy ground beneath him. That set me off and I soon blew my load into the Prince, heaving with every ejaculation. We finished and collapsed to the ground, giggling like a couple of little girls. We cleaned ourselves up and sat there talking about the life of a Prince. He confided that his uncle, Prince Albert, was really gay and had played around with him before, but they never mated. It was just touchy feely stuff.
We talked for hours and embraced a few times. He's really a lonely young man, and deep down, I think he knows he's not really Charles' son. That bothers him a great deal. He told me about the time he walked in on the Queen in her underwear; we had a good laugh over that one! What a great kid. He'd make a great King someday too.