Royal Suite, The Royal Franklin Hotel
29 February 1992, 7:34 p.m. PST (0534 GMT)
Captain Gustafson, Staff Sergeant Davis, and Gunnery
Sergeant Arnold were in their finest civilian garb. All three
wore coats that were cut a little fuller in certain areas to hide
pistols. Each was an expert shot with their sidearm. Their
clothing was nice, but not to the point of what was expected for
a guest at the Royal Governor's Leap Year Ball. They would be
recognizable to all at the party as bodyguards. The security was
further augmented by a pair of squads from Bravo Platoon of the
Lincoln Rifles under the command of Staff Sergeant Custis
Meredith and their own squad leaders. These men would be in Dress
Blues and obviously armed at the party. They had arrived two days
The door to Brigadier Thompson's room opened and
every eye was locked on him. He had foregone formal military
uniform for the uniform of a Knight Commander of the Royal Order
of King George. Slacks, shoes, socks, and tunic were black. The
tunic was closed by gold buttons up the front and had a
high-stand collar that was hooked closed at the throat. A belt of
black leather was worn around his waist, gold threads woven
around it. His left breast was replete with medals. His right
bore three medallions, one denoting membership in each of the
Noble Orders. The one farthest right, that of the Royal Order of
King George itself, bore the garlands of his exemplary rank as a
Knight Commander. Hanging around his neck was the light blue
ribbon of the Medal of Honor, which hung, also surrounded by a
garland of oak leaves, at his neck. All three of the military
personnel waiting snapped to attention, not so much at his
arrival, but in honor of that medal. He nodded a response to
"Any problems, Captain?" he asked, always on, thought
"None whatsoever, sir. All preparations have been
smooth. The limo is waiting downstairs to take us to the Royal
Thompson nodded. "Very good."
Anything else he might have said was cut off by the
opening of the door of Princess Anna's room. If Thompson had
looked good, the Princess looked absolutely beautiful. Her blond
hair was pinned up and sparkling sapphire earrings emphasized her
deep blue eyes. Her dress was floor-length and done in gold with
black trim. A sable stole was wrapped around her slender
shoulders but did nothing to conceal the deep cleft of her full
Her eyes went directly to Thompson. "Why, Lord
Commander, I can think of very few men who cut quite so fine a
figure in that uniform."
Thompson took a moment to realize that he needed to
bow. He did so, stammering out, "Thank you, Your Royal Highness.
And may I say that your beauty is devastating, to say the least."
She smiled demurely. "And I thank you for that." She
stepped across the room, a vision in heels, and stopped before
the three business-suit-clad troops. "I trust that Brigadier
Thompson has already inquired as to your preparedness."
Captain Gustafson had trouble concealing a grin. "He
has, Your Highness."
She turned back to her escort. "Very good, Lord
Commander." She extended her arm and he took it. "Shall we go?"
Thompson was actually enjoying himself immensely.
Grand Ballroom, Royal Governor's Palace
29 February 1992, 8:00 p.m. PST (0600 GMT)
The climate of the State of Franklin (it had
initially been called Washington Territory, but King George II
had wanted to avoid confusion with Washington City and the other
"Washingtons" that were springing up), particularly at the end of
Puget Sound, caused regular rainfall and, with the temperature
just above freezing, made the roads slick with cold rain.
Thompson rose from the back seat where Gunnery
Sergeant Arnold was holding the door and turned to extend his
hand to the Princess. She took it and he helped her out. They
made their way, followed by the two Marine NCO's and led by the
Royal Air Force Captain, down the red carpet, where paparazzi
took their pictures. Thompson even recognized a few of the faces
of the reporters that would be blabbing about the Princess' new
dress and her escort the next morning on the talk shows. He did
his best, however, to ignore them. Focusing on Anna certainly
They were soon inside, where Thompson handed off his
overcoat and Anna handed over her wrap. They again locked arms,
where they followed the reception line to Royal Governor Daniel
Evans. Governor Evans had served since 1965, when he was
appointed by King James II. A hugely popular leader and staunch
in his royalist leanings, Evans was a solid Royal Governor who
had steered Franklin through rough and smooth waters. He was also
renowned for his wonderful parties. He was dressed in the dark
blue tunic of his office. The governor bowed low over the
"Your Highness, how lovely to see you again."
"Thank you, Governor Evans. It is wonderful to be
here once again."
Then it was Thompson's turn. "Lord Commander
Thompson. It is a great honor to have the Hero of Bogota and
Medellin in my palace."
Thompson smiled. "Royal Governor, it is a pleasure."
They then moved down to the entryway to be announced.
The crier stated loudly. "Her Royal Highness, the Princess Anna,
and her escort, Brigadier Lord Commander Andrew Jackson
Eyes turned to the entry, suddenly interested.
Thompson followed Anna's eyes to find Royal Governor Gerald Brown
of California. Her smile faltered as he toasted her silently with
a glass of champagne. She nodded her head and leaned a little
closer to Thompson. She caught the hostility radiating from his
eyes, a menace few men could match without looking silly. "Thank
The hostility was gone when he looked down at her.
"You're welcome, Anna."
Anna's heart beat a little faster and she felt a
flash of heat at his voice and his eyes. She was glad suddenly
that he was holding her because she thought she felt her knees
get a little weak.
Thompson let go of her arm long enough to snag a pair
of glasses from a passing waiter. They sipped at the sweet,
bubbly wine while they both looked around. His head came around
to find Anna studying him. "Your first time?"
He chuckled. "At a formal ball? Well, it has been a
She reached out and took his champagne flute from
him, setting both glasses on a nearby table. "There's only one
thing for that." She reached out and took his left hand in her
right one. He followed her only a little reluctantly onto the
The orchestra struck up a waltz and his right hand
came up to touch her back. His feet moved with the memory of
dancing lessons back at the Austin Academy in Harrison, Texas,
when he was fifteen years old. They were rusty, but Anna's grace
hid his lack of ability. Soon, she was clutching him tightly and
Thompson's heart skipped a beat.
Suddenly, he was having a good time in the middle of
a ball at the Royal Governor's Palace.
Royal Suite, The Royal Franklin Hotel
1 March 1992, 12:02 a.m. PST (1002 GMT)
Thompson had removed his uniform and was preparing
for bed. He stripped off his khaki boxers and made his way to the
large bed in the center of his room.
The evening had gone spectacularly. He had really
enjoyed himself and felt that Anna had, too. He chided himself
for thinking of her as Anna. Even in his head, it should be "Her
Royal Highness", lest he forget his place and think of her as a
woman rather than as the figure she was. His mind could not stop
remembering the way she had moved with his hand on her back, the
way her hand felt clasped in his. Even when they weren't dancing,
they had not parted far from each other. He chuckled in the dark.
They'd been like a couple of kids.
And just like when he was a kid, he felt himself
swollen and hard. His hand extended to touch himself. He wrapped
a hand around it and stroked it gently. He let his mind wander as
he began to fondle himself.
His eyes snapped open when he heard the sound of a
door opening. It took him a moment to realize it was the door
that joined his room to the Princess'. By that time, the sheets
on the bed were rustling and a weight was settling under the
covers beside him.
Anna's body pressed itself tight against his, her
full breasts crushed against his chest as he felt the pressure of
her soft pubic hair against his throbbing erection. He heard her
moan even as she found his shoulders and neck. In the low level
of light from the balcony, she found his lips. They locked
together in the dark.
Her mouth was hot and demanding against his. Her
tongue probed his lips, then his mouth with an urgency that he
immediately recognized was as strong as his. His hands found her
naked body and touched her, running his hands around her waist,
over her hips and buttocks. She threw a thigh over his hip and he
found the sensitive head of his penis rubbing against her slick
labia. He moaned deeply into her mouth and she pulled him over on
top of her.
One of her hands left his back and slipped between
them, wrapping around his erection and giving it a gentle
squeeze. She guided him to her opening and he pushed into her.
Her lips left his and she let out a moan. "Oh, God,
yes, Drew," she said.
He couldn't make himself talk, so he expressed
himself physically. He felt her body open to him as he pushed
into her depths, driving himself in as far as he could. He
luxuriated in the sensation of her magnificent canal. He felt her
squeeze him in her depths and pulled out to thrust into her
She squeezed him then with her hands, now both on his
shoulders, and with her thighs, wrapped tightly around his hips.
Quickly, too quickly, he knew he was going to climax.
He wanted desperately to hold out so she could experience her own
orgasm but, he realized, that was already happening.
"Oh, oh, oh, God. Don't stop, darling," she gasped,
and he knew what it signified as he felt the rhythmic pulsing of
her vaginal walls around him. He pushed deep again, pulled back,
and gave one last thrust before feeling the explosion of absolute
pleasure deep inside of her. He let out his own strangled cry,
She felt him spending himself and suddenly he
couldn't hold himself up anymore. Anna smiled to herself, the
secret smile a woman saves for only those most intimate moments,
and pulled him down to her, kissing him on the collarbone twice
gently, and running her fingers along his closely-shorn scalp.
She sighed against his neck. He returned her kiss at
the join between her neck and shoulder. He felt his body calm and
realized for the first time in his life that he was in love.
Royal Suite, The Royal Franklin Hotel
1 March 1992, 2:14 a.m. PST (1214 GMT)
Anna Virginia Cates Webster awoke to the feel of
Andrew Thompson's hard body behind her. Her head was pillowed on
his bicep and his chest was against her back. His left arm was
draped over her and she felt his lips against her left shoulder.
The blankets were wrapped tight around them. She could feel his
member, soft but still nice, pressed between her soft buttocks.
She squeezed them together and felt it stir a little. She smiled
His voice took her by surprise. "That's a dirty
trick." There was laughter there and she pulled away to roll over
and face him.
"It's been a while since I felt one of those in that
particular location," she said unapologetically.
He chuckled. "I wasn't looking for an apology, just
stating a fact." His lips found hers in the dark and the kiss was
very deep, tongues actively probing the other's mouth. His left
hand slid down to squeeze one plump buttock. She could feel him
doing more than stirring now and she spread her legs by way of
He took her up on it and pushed her gently to her
back while moving on top of her again. The tip found its mark,
seemingly already familiar with the terrain and he opened her
again with that insistent knob. The sharp intake of breath was
followed by a moan into his mouth as he entered her fully once
again. She had almost forgotten the sweet pleasure of possessing
a man, of feeling him fill her body, touching the depths of her
with the extension of himself.
His left hand had found the soft sweetness of her
behind again, and worked its way to the separation between her
ass cheeks. His finger settled between them and he massaged her
anal opening. His fingertip caressed it as he began the deep,
rhythmic thrusts of intercourse.
Anna's breath caught in her throat as she realized
she was close again. It overtook her this time with a vengeance.
Her head slammed back into the pillow beneath her as her breath
escaped in a cry. Her chest clenched as her back arched, pressing
her breasts tighter against him. Drew stopped moving as her
vaginal muscles squeezed him tightly, trying to strangle the life
out of her lover's working tool. She heard him groan and wondered
if she had hurt him even as her legs squeezed at his hips. It was
a wonderful, drawn-out moment on the edge of oblivion.
Then her body relaxed, opening, almost loose, and he
resumed the pounding thrusts into her. How could she say it now,
how could she ask for him to be gentle when she couldn't make
herself want that. She wanted to please him far more than she
wanted to please herself. She wanted to ask him to take his time,
to let her revel in the feel of his strength, his power, his raw
sexuality. But she couldn't.
Then he seemed to sense it. His movements became more
tentative, he almost stopped moving. She wondered if he was ready
to finish. Then she realized that he was looking down at her.
Their lips had long since parted and he was studying her in the
She looked up to ask him if anything was wrong and he
locked his lips onto hers. They kissed while he held himself
still inside her body. Their kiss seemed to enliven him and he
slowly resumed the thrusts.
She moaned quietly, deep in her throat, saying his
name quietly as he slid himself in and out, letting her feel
every bit of him responding to her as the super-sensitivity of
the post-orgasmic body feels everything. Slowly, he continued and
she could feel her vagina trying to hold him in her depths,
wanting to be as close as possible to her masculine counterpart.
He shifted on top of her and started to increase the
tempo. She knew Drew must be near his own climax and she urged
him on both with sounds and without. She pushed herself up at him
each time he thrust downward. Soon, he was back at the speed he
had started, powering himself into her depths. She could feel
another orgasm building and increased her own tempo to try and
come at the same time as he did.
They reached the mountaintop together, a freshening
of her fluid washing his seed deeper into her as he spent himself
deep inside of her.
This time, she felt his muscles quake as he finished
and softened inside her body. She knew that was it, that he had
driven himself as far as he could.
She helped him settle outside of her and she cradled
his head in her arms and kissed him above his right eye. She knew
what she felt and that it was the first time she had felt that
strange emotion in years. "I love you," she whispered, as if
trying it out on the air, meaning it but not at all sure that he
was still awake.
He squeezed her tightly, almost painfully in the
strength of his emotion. "I love you, too," he said. Anna could
not know how much this magnificent man, this intense warrior had
longed all his life to hear those words from the woman he loved.
His dreams coming true, he felt the soft touch of her
fingertips along his jaw as he drifted into sleep.