In bed with ‘Prince Harry’ at a Halloween party [FM]

Happy Halloween!

I’ve been lurking here for a little while, but I thought as my first post falls on my favourite holiday, I would keep things (vaguely) on-theme and tell the story of the time I hooked up with [a guy dressed as] Prince Harry. This was a few years ago, but I just got a text from an old roommate which reminded me that it could have just as likely happened tonight!

When I was eighteen I had three goals: Move to England, fuck a lot of hot people, and go to class enough to pass uni.

I was all set for #1 and #3 – I had flown out of sunny California and into a rainstorm a week after my 18th birthday to start my three years at a uni down south. The problem up until this point was a fling I’d had in summer had turned into a Big Deal for him, and I’d been guilted into a long-distance relationship. Right around October I was finally realising that this couldn’t go on. Not only was I just not into the dude, but he was ruining my social life. He knew I was weak for the accent, and that freshers parties were going to be full of single guys. So I couldn’t even go out with my friends much. I wasn’t having fun, so I ended it. I’d like to say that I mourned the relationship, but to be honest I was pretty much immediately ready to move on and start enjoying my time in England!

A girl in the flat next to mine had been invited to a Halloween party and told to bring friends. At about 9pm she came and banged on our door, insisting my flat go. I was told to wear something cute and bring alcohol, and that there would be no negotiation.

The party was massive. The guys in the house were third years who were trying to get the most out of the last nine months before they really had to grow up. They’d invited just about everyone they’d met in the last couple months, and crammed us all into four bedrooms and the back garden.

One of the hosts was a guy with the poshest accent I’ve ever encountered. Rather fittingly, he was dressed as Prince Harry. He had natural, gorgeous red hair, was about a foot taller than me (At 5’2 I’m shorter than pretty much everyone, but his height really stood out), and was wearing fake formal army dress. He introduced himself as ‘Harry’, and regaled me with made up tales of his time in the palace. He broke character eventually and told me a bit about himself, then asked me how I’d ended up in [city]. He told me he was 23, the oldest in the house, having done a gap year before uni and a placement in Ireland the year before. Even his real identity as a commoner was pretty privileged – he’d been to a well-known grammar school, had friends who were children of dukes and duchesses (nobody super big, just loads of rich people), had dated someone who is now a super-model when they were at school for a year. I told him my life was a lot less interesting, but that the main draw in moving was to get away from the middle-of-nowhere town in the dessert my parents lived in.
I thought he was gorgeous, and every time he spoke I could feel my body react.
A group gathered in the conservatory to play poker. We were invited in but there wasn’t much room at the coffee table, so I sat in his lap drinking his JD and Coke while he played. The game was progressing slowly as we all talked and got distracted, but as I got more drunk and he got more confident, he started to touch me.

I’d dressed as a “John Hughes prom queen” – after hating pretty much every cheap costume in the shops I’d bought an 80s prom dress with big puffy shoulders, a low neckline, and a high hem. The dress gave him easy access to my legs, and he went from stroking just above my knee to gently running his fingers up my dress, inches away from my tiny thong. He would run his hand along the length of my thighs, getting further away from my skin as he went up, until he was just short of actually touching, and I could feel the electricity from his fingers as he pulled away. He was driving me crazy, and I couldn’t take it. It had been months since I’d had any fun, he was gorgeous, and he was acting like he wasn’t torturing me with one hand while he won his drink money back with the other.

I shifted over and began to grind on him. Slowly and subtly so nobody else could tell what was happening, but it was enough that I could feel him pressing up against me, quickly getting hard under his uniform. He pulled me against him and whispered that I’d better stop or I’d have to deal with the consequences. This only resulted in me trying even harder to distract him, and he went from doing reasonably well to losing most of his chips. I turned to kiss him and suggested he bow out before his luck got worse, and he led me up to his bedroom. There were a few people playing a drinking game on the floor, and I don’t remember exactly what he said to them, but I’ve never seen a room vacated faster.

As soon as the door was shut and locked behind them he grabbed my shoulders and pushed me against the wall. He was a great kisser, but I wanted more. I dropped to my knees and undid his trousers. He wasn’t the biggest, probably about average length, but his girth was about the size of my wrist, and he was so hard it was almost pointed straight up. I licked the tip and swirled my tongue around him a bit, teasing, before taking all of him in my mouth and down my throat. He grabbed my head and facefucked me. I’d never had a man use me like that and I loved it. I felt like I was choking on his cock, and he must have sensed that I wasn’t used to it, because he asked if I wanted to stop. Instead of taking my mouth off of him long enough to respond, I just grabbed his ass and pushed him deeper. After a couple minutes he shot his load down my throat and kissed me on the forehead.

Previous experience had shown me that this was the end – he’s finished, and so are you. But he paused just long enough to recover from his orgasm before leading me to the bed and having me lay down across it. He spread my legs and moved my thong to the side, then slid a single finger into my wet pussy and used the wetness as lube on my clit. He got on top of me and we made out while he fingered me. He had big, manly hands, and it felt amazing. He found my g-spot and it wasn’t long before it overwhelmed me and I came.

He was hard again by then, so he grabbed a condom and asked if it was okay. He told me he wanted to see me without my dress on, and we stripped. He had looked to be in reasonably good shape, but his uniform had been hiding his huge shoulders and perfect arms. He laid down and I got on top of him, and I came twice more before he was done.

He asked me to stay the night, but within five minutes of finishing my room mate was banging on the door demanding I help her walk another girl back to our flat as she was blackout drunk. She hadn’t realised that I’d been in the room with ‘Harry’, she’d just been told that I’d been seen going upstairs with him earlier. She felt so bad after, but has obviously got over the guilt because she sent me [this](https://imgur.com/TQ5ix8k) text today reminding me about the royal incident.

I saw ‘Harry’ at a party a few weeks later and we exchanged numbers, and hooked up a few more times before New Years Eve, but it wasn’t ever as intense as the first time and sort of fizzled out.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/9sz5ux/in_bed_with_prince_harry_at_a_halloween_party_fm