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Chapter One: Encounter at Balmoral Castle

Featuring King Charles III and Sir Timothy Laurence

As the British royal family gathered at Balmoral Castle for their annual summer retreat, the Scottish Highlands offered a serene escape. The estate buzzed with activities like hunting and fishing, attended by the Wales family, Princess Anne with her husband Vice Admiral Sir Timothy Laurence, the Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh, and princesses Beatrice and Eugenie. Among them was James Cole, King Charles III’s American PR chief, a 6'1" muscular man with dark brown, wavy hair, piercing blue eyes, and an 8-inch cut cock. Dressed in a light beige jacket with a white collar, a light blue collared shirt, light gray trousers, and brown suede boots, James was charming yet ambitious, secretly entangled in affairs with multiple royals, including King Charles.

King Charles, 5'10" with a slim, aging build, thinning silver-white hair, and blue eyes, wore a brown double-breasted coat with a shearling collar, a green scarf, black dress shoes, and a checkered flat cap, holding a walking stick. His 7-inch cut cock was a detail James knew well. Charles proposed a walk to James, eager to share the Highlands’ beauty.

“It’s wonderful up here,” Charles murmured, his tone hinting at anticipation as they ventured into the isolated landscape.

James’s desires surged in the privacy of the Highlands. His eyes traced Charles’s form, lingering on the bulge in his trousers. Charles, sensing the gaze, smiled knowingly.

“You’re awfully quiet, James,” he teased. With no one around, James acted, their eyes locking before he leaned in for a heated kiss. Charles responded with fervor, his hands roaming to James’s crotch, feeling the hardness through the fabric.

“My, you’re eager,” Charles whispered against James’s lips, his own arousal evident as his trousers tightened. Driven by lust, James unzipped his trousers, his 8-inch cut cock springing free, already glistening with pre-cum.

“I need you, Charles,” he growled, his voice thick with want. Charles, with a predatory grace, sank to his knees on the soft heather, his experienced hands trembling with excitement as they wrapped around James’s shaft. Charles' breath was hot against James’s skin before his mouth descended, enveloping the head of James’s cock with hunger.

Charles’s mouth was hot and wet, his tongue swirling around the head, teasing the slit before taking James deep. The warmth, the slight scrape of teeth, sent tremors through James. Charles’s silver hair, perfect in the setting sun, bobbed rhythmically as he sucked, his blue eyes occasionally flicking up to meet James’s in a silent, intense exchange. James gripped Charles’s hair, guiding his head.

“Deeper, Charles, take it all,” he urged, his voice rough. Charles obeyed, relaxing his throat to accommodate James’s length, the wet, slick sounds of his mouth filling the air. Each thrust was met with a moan from Charles, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through James. Charles hummed in response, the sound reverberating around James’s cock, driving him closer to the edge.

The king’s tongue worked expertly, swirling along the underside of James’s shaft, then flicking against the head with every pull. James’s body tensed, his cock swelling in Charles’s mouth.

“I’m close,” he warned, but Charles only doubled his efforts, his hands gripping James’s thighs as he took him deeper, his throat constricting around James’s length. With a final thrust, James came, his body shaking as he spilled into Charles’s mouth, the king swallowing every drop with practiced ease.

Their moment was shattered by the snap of a twig. James turned, heart racing, to see Sir Timothy Laurence standing there, his expression a mix of shock and envy. His 8-inch uncut cock stirring beneath his green zip-up jacket with a brown collar, white checkered collared shirt, gray trousers, and brown dress boots. Charles, ever composed, stood, adjusting his coat.

“Ah, well, that was a bit of a misstep on my part, wasn’t it? James, would you be so kind as to manage the situation? I trust your discretion,” he said calmly, before continuing his walk back to the castle, leaving James to handle Timothy. James, still catching his breath, noticed the bulge in Timothy’s trousers and saw an opportunity.

“Sorry you had to witness that, Sir Laurence, but His Majesty has his moments of need,” James said smoothly, his tone diplomatic. “I hope we can count on your discretion.”

Timothy’s face flushed, and he nodded, his thoughts clearly racing. An awkward silence stretched between them before James stepped closer, his voice lowering.

“We all have needs, don’t we? Do you have needs, Sir Laurence?” He took another step, backing Timothy against a nearby tree. “Does the princess take care of yours?”

Timothy froze, his lower lip quivering as if words were trying to form, but James’s presence overwhelmed him. James fixed the collar of Timothy’s shirt, looking into his brown eyes.

“Does she suck your cock every night and morning? Does she make you feel good?” he whispered, shaking his head slowly. “I don’t think so.” Smirking, James placed a hand on his chest, kneeling before Timothy. “May I?” he asked, licking his lips.

Timothy, his lips still trembling, nodded. “Yes… please,” he managed, his voice barely a whisper. James’s hands deftly unzipped Timothy’s trousers, revealing his 8-inch uncut cock, veiny and hard.

“You’re impressive, Sir Laurence,” James murmured, his breath hot against Timothy’s skin as he licked from the base to the tip, savoring the musky scent. Timothy shuddered, moaning softly. James slipped his lips over the head, swirling his tongue around the foreskin, teasing it back to expose the sensitive tip. James took Timothy deeper, his mouth stretching to accommodate the girth. He bobbed his head slowly at first, letting his tongue trace every vein, the wet heat of his mouth drawing gasps from Timothy.

"You like that, don’t you?” James asked, pulling back to flick his tongue against the slit, lapping up a bead of pre-cum.

“Yes… don’t stop,” Timothy pleaded, his voice hoarse, his hands hesitantly resting on James’s shoulders. James hummed, the vibration sending a jolt through Timothy as he took him deeper, his throat relaxing to take more. The slick sounds of James’s mouth filled the air, his lips gliding up and down, his tongue working the underside with every pull. James' blue eyes locking onto Timothy’s glazed-over gaze, knowing he had him completely under his control. Timothy’s hands hesitated before gripping James’s shoulders, then his dark hair as his moans grew louder.

“God, you’re… incredible,” Timothy groaned, his hips bucking slightly. “I… I can’t hold on.”

James wanted it all—wanted Timothy’s release, his satisfaction as he sucked harder, his cheeks hollowing, his tongue swirling relentlessly. With one final, deep pull, Timothy’s cock slipped from James’s mouth, and he came, his cum spraying across James’s face as James jerked him off, milking every drop. James felt the warm release seep down his face, opening his eyes to watch Timothy’s cock go limp as the older man panted, exhausted.