Princess Ch. 04

Carrie said, "I think I'm getting it, but when should I involve you or someone like you?"

Jerry said, "There will be situations where you just know you're inviting a crowd, for instance going to a movie premiere as an A-list guest; or a charity ball or even a ball game where you'll likely be seen by thousands and even appear on TV. Take a professional with you in situations like that. The same rules apply but they can run interference for you, block people from bothering you, and certainly extend the image that you are well protected."

"You?"

"Some times. I have a couple of dozen other people who I work with a lot - other independent security agents. We trade off a lot, so our clients don't always appear with the same rent-a-cop in tow. Two-thirds of us are men; one-third are women."

Carrie said, "So, can we go out for dinner again tonight and put some of this to the test?"

"Where would you like to go?"

Carrie said, "Someplace Italian. I have a craving for marinara sauce over some kind of pasta, plus some protein to go with it."

I said, "Rosetti's?"

Everyone nodded. Jerry called up the number on his cell phone and dialed the place. He asked for the manager. We listened as he arranged a seven o'clock 'celebrity' reservation. He carefully described who would be in the party, the kind of table we preferred, how we hoped to be served, and extended our gratitude for the extra service so we didn't provoke a scene. He was smooth and polite - a perfect gentleman."

Later, when we showed up for dinner, everything went just like clockwork. There was no hassle, we were shown every courtesy, and we were generous with our tips when we left. I felt certain that most of patrons recognized us; however, not one bothered us in any way.

On the way home, Carrie wanted a Ben & Jerry's ice cream. I was driving, and Jerry was riding shotgun. As we got to the strip mall with the shop, Jerry hopped out of the car and strolled into the store, had a look around, sized up the other patrons - mostly adults with young kids in tow, and then gestured us in.

We got our ice creams and sat at a table to eat.

Pretty soon, a young girl about eight years old came up to Carrie. "Are you a princess? You look like her."

Carrie smiled at the girl, "I am, but don't tell everybody else, otherwise you'll create a scene."

The girl thought about 'creating a scene.' "I wouldn't want to do that." She paused and said, "Well, nice to meet you princess," and then turned and walked back to her parents, both of whom gave us apologetic looks for the interruption.

Jerry said, "Carrie, you handled that perfectly. Never be afraid to say no to someone, even a kid. Also, just to give you some balance, you can always be nice too."

His last comment resulted in Carrie stopping by the table the girl was seated at. She introduced herself to her parents, shook their hands and that of the little girl, and then we all left. The parents had their mouths agape that they'd actually met the famous princess who had been in the news so much, plus the now notable TV reporter, Marjorie Henson.

Back at my condo, Jerry decided that Carrie needed a CPO for the night, and that he was just the right person to do. It turned out a CPO stood for Close Personal Operative, a euphemism for the term bodyguard.

Marge and I realized just how close when Carrie was pleading with him, "Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop. Harder. Harder. Harder."

* * * * *

The following week, Carrie arrived home on Wednesday with a long face. I asked, "What's wrong, darling?"

"I need a green card. The TV station had to put me 'on hold' until I have the right paperwork from the U.S. Customs and Immigration Service."

I stood there slightly shocked. I then recalled that Marjorie had mentioned something about visitor's visas and the like.

I said, "I'll call a lawyer tomorrow, and see what he recommends. Maybe we can figure out a way around this."

Marge and I took extra care of Carrie that night. The next morning, Carrie looked unhappy as we each went off to work and she was left alone in the condo. There wasn't much either of us could say, except express our love and support for her, and the hopeful promise that we'd find some way to make things work out.

I called a couple of lawyers that morning, finally engaging one Martin Hart, Esquire. I explained the whole situation to him in detail, and he was well aware of the princess because of her notoriety. Based on his advice, we opted to do nothing for eight weeks.

I asked, "Why eight weeks?"

"She'd been in the U.S. a few days before she went rogue and ended up in your car. You've been with her for a month. Two more months and we pass a ninety-day window that will make your romance and subsequent marriage more palatable to the USCIS when you ask for a change of visa status and green card. You are going to marry her, right?"

"Oh, yes. I certainly intend to propose very soon. I hope she'll accept."

I arranged for Carrie and I to see Martin in his office in another week to talk about her immigration status. I surely didn't want her on a string of B-2 visas, where she had to be six months in the U.S. and six months someplace else.

On the way home I thought about how happy I'd be married to Carrie. I did love her, and a wedding at the right time would make a lot of things go much easier for her staying in the U.S. and traveling when she wanted to instead of having to follow the edict of some government agency. I went by a jewelry store on my way home, picked out a ring, used up a chunk of my credit line on my American Express card to buy it, and then started to head to my car.

Suddenly, I thought about Marjorie. She was the other leg of our three-pronged relationship. I certainly didn't want to forget about her, or want her to feel slighted because I was asking Carrie to marry me.

I went back into the store, and the clerk looked surprised. I explained, "I'm sorry to trouble you again, but I need another ring for my girlfriend."

"Oh, you're giving her two rings?"

"No, I have two girlfriends. I'm only going to give the diamond to one."

"Errr, you do know that bigamy is illegal, right?"

"Oh, sure. Look, I live with two women. I'm marrying one and making a long-term commitment to the other."

He looked skeptical; "Got it. Now, what kind of ring were you thinking about for theother woman? We have some lovely sapphires with baguette diamonds as part of the setting ..."

I left twenty minutes later having maxed out my credit card.

When I got home I found that Carrie had perked up. She had dinner ready. She'd also discovered that a twenty-minute walk from my condo was a public library. She'd spent a good portion of the day there partly laying out two scripts for TV specials she wanted to do; both on the environment and lack of unified government action. She'd decided to work pro bono for now because the issues were so important, thus, there was no issue with a green card. The TV station had hinted that they'd find some way to reimburse her, such as a donation in her name to the charity of her choice.

Carrie was so happy, that she took the initiative about our lovemaking that night. For starters, she made me sit and watch as she slowly stripped away Marjorie's clothing. She soon joined her friend in a state of complete nudity.

The women sat on my sofa, and each took a large dildo, and simultaneously proceeded to fuck each other to orgasm with them. Going along with the intriguing sexual encounter, they also kept up a steady stream of some of the hottest and dirtiest fuck language I'd ever heard. Later, Carrie confessed to having watched some more lesbian porn.

I sat and watched the girls, taking time as they started to strip away my clothes. I sat in the bedroom chair and slowly wanked as I listened to and watched the pair. They were hot, and watching before I joined in got me harder than steel.

After the first orgasm for each of them, they invited me to come and 'pound my ramrod cock into first one hot cunt and then the other.' I started on Marjorie since when I got to the bed she was the most available.

We fucked hard for about five minutes, and then I started to rub her nubbin right above where my cock pistoned into her pussy. A minute later she crested.

I shifted over to Carrie who'd been kissing Marge, slowly sinking to full depth inside her. As I started to pump into her a little harder, she moaned, "I love you. Oh, you are so marvelous, I never want to stop doing this with you."

The feel of Carrie's spasming pussy made me yield to the god of sensation. I came too, blasting a gallon of pent up man juice deep into her pussy.

Carrie and I hugged, kissed, and then pulled Marjorie into our coupling so we could lavish affection and love upon her.

When things got a little quiet, I said, "Can I ask you both a serious question, and one that's probably unexpected?"

Both women nodded, and I pulled them to me for a hug.

"Will you marry me? I want both of you with me the rest of my life."

The silence in the bedroom made my heart stop.

Carrie said in an uncertain tone, "You're serious, right?"

"Very," I replied.

Marge had started to cry. I felt her shoulders surge and then my chest got wet where her head lay against me. She blubbered out, "God, yes. I love you. Thank you for forgiving me."

Carrie said with a lilt in her voice, "Yes, you will make me the happiest woman in the world."

I added, "I know I won't be acceptable to your family. I didn't go to Eton or Oxford or Cambridge, and I didn't serve in the King's Guard, but I do love you and I promise ..."

Carrie interrupted, "Stop! I've never cared for all that pretentious stuff. That's why I've left. Besides, my family doesn't love you the way that I do; I don't care what they think, but they better get on the same page I am if they want a long-term relationship with me."

Carrie sat up and so did Marge. Both were smiling but had tears of happiness on their cheeks.

Carrie reassured, "Those qualifications you cited for a potential husband were carefully drilled into my head from the time I was twelve. When I turned twenty I started to look at the cadre of eligible young men that fit the specification. There aren't that many with the 'right' qualifications. Every one of them acted like a self-centered, arrogant, self-righteous misogynist, who had an overinflated opinion of themselves. The thought of even dating them, which I had to do to show the royal flag, was nauseating. The thought of fucking one of them was truly revolting, and that's why I arrived in your bed a virgin at my age. The thought of having to marry one of them inspired me to jump ship, right into your arms."

Carry threw herself into my arms and kissed me. Marge followed suit.

I reached into the drawer of the bedside table and pulled out the two ring boxes - one red and one blue.

I opened the royal blue box first, and with a flourish plucked the diamond out of the cushioned slot. I took Carrie's left hand and gently slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly. I had tried on one of her other rings and knew which knuckle on which of my fingers would be the perfect size when I'd bought her ring.

I turned and opened the Valentine's red box, plucking out a sapphire ring with two baguette diamonds on either side of the stone as the band started to wrap around her finger. The fit again was perfect. Marjorie threw herself into my arms after I'd put the ring on her left-hand ring finger.

Next, I felt a little forgotten as the two girls started to fawn over each of their rings, comparing and commenting favorably about the purchases. I got a sidelong glance from Carrie as she smiled, and knew instantly that the two of them were teasing me, as they were prone to do from time to time.

* * * * *

Our meeting with Martin Hart was an hour. He was cordial and seemed to know his stuff. He was impressed with the princess, and was certain that he and his contacts in USCIS could make everything go smoothly for us, especially since the princess was so well known, and that her story had been told time and again on the air since the interview she'd done with Marjorie.

The next series of events in our lives dealt with Carrie's family.

Carrie had talked to her mother and occasionally her father since the episode at the cabin where we'd officially been discovered. She explained where she was living, that she had a boyfriend (me) who she was madly in love with, and that she also had a growing number of close friends (Marjorie!).

Carrie weathered the storm of leaving the family the way she had, and then of renouncing the life of the princess for which she had been destined. Finally, they conceded the points and urged her to find her happiness.

I guessed that the shit would hit the fan when she told them about our engagement. She wisely had not talked about Marjorie except in the context of a close friendship. I had not talked to any of her family, so all they knew of me was through their daughter's eyes.

So, one Saturday morning about three weeks after we'd gotten engaged, Carrie announced, "I guess I'd better tell Mum what's going on with us." I could tell she'd been steeling herself for the call and the fallout.

I listened with an attentive ear, as she placed the call.

After the pleasantries and a chronological update on what she'd been up to at the TV station, Carrie said, "Mum, I have something important to tell you."

I could almost feel her mother's back stiffening three thousand miles away.

"Mummy, James proposed to me and I accepted his offer. We are now officially engaged."

Carrie was silent for a long time on the phone; an indication that she was being talked to from the other end. Occasionally, she'd mutter a one word answer of yes or no, or just hmmmm to show she was still on the line.

I tried to gage whether she was getting upset; however, I didn't sense anything in that way.

Finally, Carrie said, "Well, have Emma come over whenever she wants. We have a guest room, and of course she can stay with us. I'll even be able to take some time to spend with her; we can have some fun seeing the sights. Washington is such a pretty city."

I knew from our talks that Emma was Carrie's younger sister by a year. She too was a princess. I wondered what the trip was all about.

I figured more out in the next minute. Carrie said, "Mummy, you go ahead and have Jim checked out. If you need any information about him to do that, let me know and we'll give it to you. We have nothing to hide as Emma will see."

Ah, I was being totally checked out. I wondered if they'd raise strong reservations over the 'D' I got in college physics, or the speeding ticket I got on the New Jersey Turnpike two years prior. I was a very open book and quite transparent. I expected they'd like some of the photos on my Facebook page too - mostly some of my guy friends and me at various weekend sporting events: soccer, kayaking, hiking in the Smokies.

I heard the conversation shift to where 'Mummy' must be given her either another lecture of some kind, or telling her about what was happening in the U.K. It turned out to be the latter.

Eventually, Carrie ended the call. She grinned at me. "That went better than expected."

"Tell me," I implored. I worried a little that her parents might try to talk her out of our matrimonial plans.

"Well, for the time being, they asked that we go slow and be sure that we knew each other well enough to understand the implications of living together forever after. Good parental advice, actually. Of course, they want me to return to the princess life and marry a peer, but I explained that wasn't in the cards."

"What about Emma?"

"Oh, they're sending her over next week to check you out first hand. She's in their pocket; at least I think so. She'll give them a report about you and our life together. They're also insisting that they have a private investigation service check you out. I'm so sorry, but they're trying to be thorough and making sure, as best they can, that they won't be blindsided by some unfortunate circumstance."

I laughed, "I could send them most of what they want to know - social security number, a list of past friends and addresses, and so on. I could even give them a list of the girls I've dated."

"No, let them figure it out on their own. It'll make them think they got their money's worth from the investigator."

Marjorie had sat very quietly while all this was going on, watching the two of us like a tennis match. Finally, she said, "What do you want me to do when Emma comes? Wouldn't it be best if I went back to my condominium while she's here?"

Carrie made a face and scrunched up her mouth to show she was thinking on that subject. I shrugged and gestured that it was Carrie's decision.

Carrie said, "Marjorie, I am not ashamed that I love you and live with you. Yes, it might be easier, but it wouldn't be authentic and that's a key part of how I am trying to now live my life. A large part of my previous life was not that way. I had to pretend at all sorts of things: that I liked certain people, events, or situations, when I didn't. Now, I want to live with things as they are and as I like or dislike them."

She paused and went on, "Our immigration lawyer suggested that we keep our relationship with you low key and invisible until all the paperwork is completed. I understand that necessity, but I don't like it. In this case, with my family, we'll be the way we are, thus, you stay here and sleep with us - with me."

Emma arrived the following Saturday. She had enough luggage to fill the guest room. She also had a bodyguard with her, although he disappeared shortly after we met her at Dulles Airport and got her into my car. Emma told me that he'd be following us, but that we'd never really be aware of his kind unless we went out.

Marjorie had opted to go visit her parents for a long weekend, and she wouldn't return until Monday night. Carrie had worked this out with Marge, and her absence would enable Carrie to set the stage with her sister before she appeared.

I felt the first few hours with Emma were formal, and I had the distinct opinion that she was trying to do an assessment of me and my worthiness to become a 'lowly' family member. When I mentioned it to Carrie, she told me I had an inferiority complex.

Emma was no doubt Carrie's sister, although she was taller, but not as busty. They both had the same cute nose, hairline, coloring, and sense of humor.

As the afternoon wore on, Emma loosened up and started to enjoy her visit. I think she decided she had enough information for a favorable report and then got into being a sister and a future sister-in-law. The sisters obviously had a close bond and could talk about just about anything with each other.

Carrie and I obviously slept together, so I wondered how much about our love life Emma would end up knowing, for instance, the loss of her virginity a couple of month or so earlier. I had a brother, but he and I didn't talk all that frequently unless he was coming to town.

I volunteered to go grocery shopping to give the two of them some necessary alone time with me not present. I made a list of what we needed for the coming week, and left the condo for the local Safeway.

Figuring that two princesses were even more noteworthy of public attention than one, I stopped by Jacque's Restaurant on the way home. I had my 'security conscious' hat on, so I arranged with Jack - his real name - for our usual table in the back corner of the restaurant where we'd be out of the way. I wasn't sure whether I'd get Jerry to join us, but for certain there'd be three of us, plus no doubt the shadow of Emma's bodyguard.

I called Jerry on my way home, and suggested we buy him dinner and a few hours of his time as our special agent. He was free so said he'd come by about seven o'clock and we'd go from there.