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The Highwayman

By: danielblue



In the gathering gloom the highway could just make out the horse and carriage. And what a fine carriage it was. He pulled on his mask, checked his pistol and stepped out into the road.

'Halt!' he cried.

'Who goes there?' cried the startled coachman.

'I've no time for questions. Hand over your valuables.' the highway instructed.

'Pray sir, we have no valuables. I can but offer you my arse.'

'Your arse?' the highwayman queried.

'It is all that I have of value.' the coachman replied.

'What of your passengers?'

'Pray spare her the indignity. She is a noble lady.'

The highway man was torn. His cock twitched in his breeches. He would prefer to have the valuables but the chance of a fuck was too good to pass up. It had been weeks since he last had a poke. He wondered if he should force the noble lady to submit, or should he accept the offer of the coachman's arse.

'What is going on out there?' a feminine voice called out.

'I'm afraid we're being robbed, my lady.' replied the coachman.

'By whom?'

'By me.' the highwayman opened the carriage door and stuck his head inside.

What he saw took his breath away. She was beautiful, with a a full, high bust that was very much on display. Her face was powdered, her cheeks rouged, and she looked as delicate as a china doll.

'Go away, you pesky man.' she said.

The highwayman burst out laughing. 'You're telling me to go away?'

'Are you deaf as well as stupid. We've nothing to offer you.' she snapped.

'I've offered him my arse.' the coachman piped up.

'Oh Gabriel, you are such a whore.' she sighed.

Determined not to be too humiliated the highwayman decided to accept the coachman's offer. He instructed the man to drop his satin breeches. His pale, plump bum came into view and the highwayman pressed his pistol between the coachman's legs.

'Sir, that steel between my legs is awfully cold.' the coachman said. 'I'd much rather have your warm rod.'

'The highwayman pulled out his eight inch fuck pole. It was uncut and hadn't had a wash in over a week. When he pulled back the foreskin he found his head was covered in rancid cock cheese and it stank like anything. Suddenly he had an idea.

'Look, the lady's got to suck my cock. She's got to get it ready for your arse.' he said.

'There's no way I'm sucking that filthy thing.' she replied.

The highwayman cocked his pistol. He pushed it up against the coachman's butthole.

'Either you suck my cock or I blow his arse away.'

'Please ma'am. Do as he tells you.' the coachman pleaded.

Reluctantly the noble lady got down on her knees in the dirt and took that cheesy cock into her mouth. And immediately wished she hadn't; for he had uncovered her biggest fetish. As soon as that cock reek filled her nostrils her sex juices started to flow. She slipped a hand up her voluminous skirts and fingered herself as she ate his cock clean. When at last she was done his helmet glistened and she knew she had to have it. She flicked up her skirt and demanded that he fuck her.

The surprised highwayman stepped up to her and sank his horny cock into her juicy box. The gun in his hand became a nuisance so he threw it down on the ground, whereupon Gabriel immediately picked it up.

'Don't go do anything stupid.' the highwayman told him.

'You're not getting this back till you've fucked my arse.' he replied.

He held the gun trained on the highway man as he fucked the noble lady. He was a prisoner in her box and she demanded the fucking of her life.

He gave it to her, thrusting as deep and as hard as she wanted. Loud pussy farts rumbled up from between her legs as he thrust. The coachman had the pistol nuzzled into the back of his balls. The thought of having his nuts blasted off was almost enough to shrivel his hard on, but he knew that if he stopped performing he would lose them anyway. Increasing his tempo he battered her pussy until she cried out loud and long. He counted seven orgasms before she begged him to stop.

The coachman handed the pistol to his lady and offered his arse once more to the highwayman. He instructed him to strip. The highwayman knew his life depended on making this fuck a good one. He got down on his knees and parted those butter soft cheeks. And then he buried his face in that warm, salty crack. His tongue sought out the man's fuck hole and started to lick around it until the coachman shrieked with delight. Then at last the highwayman's tongue plunged in, eating him like he was the last meal left on this earth.

By the time the highwayman withdrew his face the coachman's fuck canal was so lubricated it could have floated a boat. The highwayman pressed his knob against the other man's arsehole and felt it give way. His cockhead slid into the warm, slippery interior. He reached around and stroked Gabriel's round little tummy.

'Oh, it is a good fucking that you give.' Gabriel sighed.

'You're the best fuck I ever had.' the highway replied.

Gabriel clamped his arse knot down on the highwayman's cock, milking it and driving the bisexual butt bandit wild with lust. The highwayman bit Gabriel's shoulder and used his teeth to anchor himself as he fucked his arse. His cock felt like it would burst out of its skin. An endless stream of precum dribbled out of his cock, lubricating its passage up Gabriel's guts. He took hold of the coachman's thick cock and started wanking it. It was incredibly thick, though not very long and it had a silky foreskin that could be pulled right forward. The highwayman slipped his finger between cock and foreskin; it was all slimy with cock juices. He removed his finger and stuck it in Gabriel's mouth.

Gabriel nursed like a baby. The feel of the bandit's warm hand on his cock, his hard shaft in his ass, and the taste of his own tangy love juice was too much. His body started to spasm as be blew off in the highwayman's hand. At the same time his arse knot spasmed around the highwayman's cock and seconds later the bandit blasted his ball juice deep into the coachman's arse.

The coachman pulled off the highwayman's cock and pulled up his breeches. He took the gun back from his lady and she got back into the carriage. He gathered up the highwayman's clothes and threw them into the carriage. And off they rode leaving the highwayman without loot, without a gun, without a stitch of clothing, but a very satisfied man indeed.

END

Copyright Daniel Blue

The Highwayman



I awoke slowly, blinking in the weak light from the single sputtering candle in my dingy room. I slept in a tiny cramped loft above the stables in the infamous Flophouse tavern. After taking a moment to re-evaluate my lodgings, it became obvious that this boy needed money, and fast. In this day and age, with my limited work experience and resources, there was only one source of easy money: the Golden Gap Way.

I slid my black silk shirt on (a true highwayman must always look his best), and tugged on my soft, suede riding boots. I popped up the caging trap door and dropped lightly onto the hay-covered floor, letting my eyes adjust to the slightly dimmer lighting. My faithful steed Shadow trotted towards me as I was retrieving my bag of gear from its hiding place in the rafters. Examining the contents, I found both pistols, still loaded. I then drew my most prized and most expensive possession, my glimmering steel rapier, the weapon of a gentleman. 

I crept to the entryway to the stables, checking for roaming patrols, because your humble narrator was wanted for many dastardly deeds, and was also not paying his rent. Seeing the coast clear, I led Shadow out into the open night. I swung up into the saddle, dangling my sheathed sword along his flanks at the ready. Taking a deep breath, I settled my nerves, spurred Shadow ahead, and raced off in search of riches and excitement.

Flying down the road, chased by a growing cloud of dust, I scanned for the telltale lanterns of carriages. As Shadow and I crested a steep hill, I saw the glimmer of moving lights in the distance. We moved back under the cover of trees on the side of the road. I quietly dismounted, and lashed him to a low-hanging bough. One drawn pistol in my hand, I crouched, and waited. My heart racing, I could hear the hoof beats pounding on the hard road, carriage wheels clattering, I gripped my pistol tighter. As the rattling carriage raced past, I leapt up and out, snatching a hold of the luggage rack on the rear.

The carriage’s momentum swung me around, and I clutched tightly to the bags lashed there. Holstering my pistol, I slowly and quietly crawled up onto the roof. Keeping low, leaning into the wind, I crept towards the coachman, once again drawing a trusty flintlock. I knelt behind him, and cocked the hammer back, causing him to immediately whip around. With a rakish grin, I gestured towards the creek that paralleled the road. With a frightened swallow, he sprung from the bench, sailing out into the water, rolling and splashing downstream. Without guidance, the horses began to slow gradually. I took the reigns, guiding them to a stop on the side of the empty road.

Wondering who my passengers are, I hop down, strolling around to the carriage door. I pause, taking a moment to compose myself, brushing the dirt from my clothing, and pulling my baby-fine brown hair back. I pull my rapier, and yank the door open, lunging up and into the compartment. I freeze as I land, the tip of my rapier barely grazing the pale cleavage of a young woman. I stared in awe, her black velvet gown contrasting her fair skin. Her short copper-colored hair brushing her collar, her eyes wide with fear. As I watched her more, I noticed her heavy breathing, which made her breasts strain against the low collar of her gown quite lusciously.

Slowly lowering my rapier, I bowed deeply, smiling up at her through my curtain of hair. I took her shaking hand, and kissed it lightly.

“Well fair maiden, you have the pleasure of being robbed by the most courteous highwayman of them all. I’m Sebastian.” As I held her soft hand, lightly stroking it against my cheek, she replied that her name was Lana. My tongue flicked out, brushing the inside of her wrist, causing my fair maiden to shiver, biting her lip.

“I…I have no money…please take whatever you want from the luggage”, she whispered nervously.

Still holding her hand, I slowly drug my tongue across her palm and responded that I’d have to take my compensation some other way. She glanced down at me nervously, so I smiled up at her through my hair, nibbling her inner wrist gently. At that, she gave a shaky sigh, and sank back into the plush seat.

Leaning in towards her, I slowly pushed up her soft velvet sleeve, baring her pale arm. Slowly kissing my way up her inner arm caused her to begin to tremble. I then took her arm, kissing the inside of her elbow lightly, and then sucking on it, gently at first, but then harder. Lana groaned almost inaudibly as she reached out, running her fingers through my soft hair. I rose up and leaned towards her, my lips barely brushing the side of her neck. 

As she gasped softly, I gently bit her neck, caressing the soft skin with my tongue as I did. Her strong hands gripped my back, pulling me closer. Caressing her neck with one hand, I continued to lick and nibble my way up the other side. Wasting no time, she pulled up my shirt in the back, dragging her nails up my firm back, causing me to gasp against her neck. I pulled back, smiling wickedly and in one smooth motion pulled my shirt up and over my head, tossing it to the floor of the carriage.

Hers eyes widened, running all over my pale upper body as I sat and smirked. I slowly drew a dagger from my belt, and told her to hold very, very still. I then eased the cool blade between her quivering breasts, and slowly pulled it down, cutting the soft fabric. Her dress began to fall open following the blade, revealing her lacy corset. I sheathed the dagger, gripped the dress, and ripped the torn fabric from her, leaving her sitting panting in her corset and stockings. Her breathing was speeding up, and her cleavage rising and falling with each breath.

I rested my hands on her bare thighs, causing her to shiver again slightly. Leaning in, I slowly slid the flat of my tongue across her heaving chest. Her fingers buried in my hair, I traced the line of flesh along the top of her corset with my tongue, the tip of my just barely brushing the edge of her areolas. At this she gasped, clutching my head to her soft bosom. I smiled, rubbing my cheek against the soft flesh, slowly snaking out my tongue to brush her skin. Rising up again, I softly bit her upper breast, sucking gently, my hands caressing her back. 

I ran my hands down her back, slipping them beneath her, and cupping her ass gently. I clutched the soft flesh, leaning up to kiss her gently. Her tongue rushing into my mouth, I sucked on it fiercely, my hands massaging her soft buttocks. I then slowly crouched down, kneeling between her thighs, one smooth, stocking-clad leg resting on each of my shoulders. Lana’s body quivering with anticipation, she spread herself wider, offering her neatly trimmed mound to me. Teasing still, I slowly licked along the line of her hip, watching her leg shake.

Switching sides, I slowly drug my tongue along the line of her other hip. Eyes glued to her glistening pink slit, I leaned in, smiling up at her through my curtain of hair. I slowly spread her lower lips with two fingers, and delicately ran my tongue along the length of her moist cunny. Encouraged by her moans of approval, I began sliding my tongue back and forth across her slit, lightly flicking her clit with the tip of my tongue.

I then pressed my face against her warm crotch, thrusting my tongue deep into her tight, warm crevice. Sucking delicately on her bud, I began working my tongue around inside of her, caressing her tender inner walls. I slowly pulled my tongue out of her warm recess, gently dragging it along the length of her pink slit.

I pulled my face from her crotch, and slowly began to push one finger up into her tight, hot pussy. Kissing her deeply, allowing her to taste herself on my lips and tongue, I curled my finger inside her pussy, stroking her insides. Her writhing and groaning hastened my ministrations, and I began sucking her clit with fervor as I slid my finger in and out of her glistening slit. I then began slowly easing my fingers in and out of her gorgeous hole, being ever gently with her tender flesh. Rising to my knees, I lifted my head from her crotch, and began to quickly untie her restraining corset. 

Her own hands rushing to help me, she was quickly sitting nude on the soft seat, panting expectantly. I grinned wickedly as I rose to my feet before her, watching her eyes running across my bare torso, her hands balling into fists in frustration. Her hands quickly wrapped around me, pulling me close. She kissed me passionately, pressing her soft body against mine. I sighed, feeling her firm nipples glide across my bare chest. I sucked fiercely on her writhing tongue as her hands began to fumble with my belt. My pants loosened, her hand quickly snaked inside, gripping a hold of me, causing me to groan into her open mouth.

I stood slowly, my pants crumpling to the floor, and her small hand still stroking me feverishly. Her small pink tongue suddenly flicked out, caressing the head of tip of my cock, leaving it glistening with her saliva. As I sighed in pleasure, her lips quickly wrapped around me, sucking gently. She slid about half of my length into her mouth, her lips stretched wide around my girth. She then pulled her mouth off of me, and began slowly slicking along the length of my shaft, causing it to spasm with each movement of her tongue.

Not being able to take much more of this, I reluctantly pulled away. Seeing the ache in her eyes, I took her hand, pulling her to her feet. I stepped out of the carriage, feeling the cool breeze on my bare, sweating flesh. Looking up at her, I took her hand again, and pulled her out onto the dirt road, my red-hot member brushing her thigh. Then I pushed her up against the side of the carriage, spreading her thighs. Watching her breath speeding up in anticipation, I gripped myself, and slowly ran the head along her wet slit. I gripped her pale right thigh, and lifted her leg up, pressing myself against her moist opening.

Being gentle as could be, I began slowly pushing against her, letting her adjust to the size. Her fingernails digging into my bare back, I slowly pushed my entire length into her, watching her eyes widen with the sensation. Fingers digging into her thigh, I began slowly pulling myself back out of her, savoring each gasp and moan from her mouth. I held her leg up with one hand, my other hand stroking the small of her back. I began thrusting back in and out, but only using the top half of my cock, watching her whimper in frustration. Then I pulled almost all the way out, and then suddenly plunged it all back into her, causing her to arch her back in pleasure, the head of my cock bumping her cervix.

Her nails scratching my back, she clutched me closer as I slid in and out of her tight recesses. Her leg wrapped around my waist, holding me tight as she moaned against my neck. I cupped her ass tightly, ramming into her, feeling her bite my shoulder. Speeding my thrusts up, savoring the sensation of thrusting between her moist lips, I kissed her deeply. Keeping a steady rhythm thrusting, I began licking along the side of her neck, kissing gently. 

My tongue ran up the side of her neck, flicking her earlobe. I lightly traced the edge of her ear with the tip of my tongue, moaning quietly. Burying my cock deep inside her, grinding my hips into hers, I gently bit her ear, exhaling my hot breath into her ear with a shaky groan. Her breathing began to speed up even more, her fingernails digging deeper into my back as she groaned. I panted in her ear as I struggled to control myself.

She tensed up, biting my shoulder, nails digging into my back. I groaned into her ear, begging for her to cum. Her body began shaking, spasming, I could feel her muscles squeezing me tightly inside of her. Finally she gasped, body still twitching slightly. I grinned, and flexed my cock inside of her, eliciting another gasp of pleasure. I slowly withdrew myself from her depths, watching my dripping shaft emerge. She whimpered slightly, looking at me questioningly.

I merely smiled at her, and slowly turned her around to face the carriage again. She glanced back over her shoulder at me, and I slowly spread her legs, stroking myself slowly. She groaned in anticipation, bending over, gripping the muddy wheel of the carriage. I gripped a hold of my shaft, and slowly ran the head along her dripping slit, watching her quiver at the delicate touch. With one hand slowly rubbing the small of her back, I gently pushed the tip of my cock into her.

I groaned softly as I tenderly thrust into her, my hands caressing her back lovingly. Gripping her hips, I began slowly sliding in and out of her tight hole, savoring every moment of it. I grinned as I saw her hand snake down her belly to rub her clit as I slid back into her. My thrusts sped up, and her gasps did as well. My eyelids fluttering, I moaned, knowing I couldn’t last long like this, but not caring.

Clutching her soft thighs, I began plunging in and out of her moist pussy. She moaned beneath me, thrusting that luscious ass back against me, driving me deeper. I ran my hands up her body, clutching her soft breasts as I grinded my hips against hers. I slowly grazed my palms across her pert little nipples, enjoying her whimpers of frustration. Feeling my own climax building, I grasped her breasts as I slid in and out, feeling my body tense and shake.

I plunged one last time deep into her, spurting my seed deep inside her. She moaned, writhing against me as I continued to spurt into her. Finally sated, I leaned against her, panting, kissing her shoulders and the back of her neck. She turned her head to the side as I kissed her cheek and asked if her debt was paid. I brushed my lips across hers, pinched her hard nipple, and replied, “Not even close…”

I slowly pulled myself out of her, she gasped lightly at the sensation on her tender flesh. She leaned against me, kissing my bare arm gently. She shivered slightly, and I looked down, seeing my jism trickling down her inner thigh. I took her arm, and began walking down the grassy hill towards the meandering creek. We reached the soft bank, and I began slowly walking out into the water, towing her along behind me.

“Have to clean you up…so I can dirty you again”, I said with a grin. With that, I moved behind her, wrapping my arms behind her. Resting my chin on her shoulder, we sank neck deep into the water. Huddled in each other’s warmth, we sat, and sat.



The Highwayman



The single gas lantern did little to combat the shadows that seeped out from every corner of the crowded coach. It seemed to suit the rest of the occupants. She skimmed the rest of the female faces surrounding her, finding all their eyes closed and their heads reclined in sleep. Or feigning sleep. She was tempted to cause some sort of quiet disturbance just to see if any head turned her head. At least she may have some conversation then. 

All of the young women around her were obviously refined ladies of the gentry. They all had brought a maid or abigail with them as travel companions, but due to seating by rank, all the travel companions had ended up in a separate coach away from the ladies of title. She, Lady Sohpia, daughter of an Earl of the realm, was traveling to her see her sister and her new husband in their country house. 

Sunset had came and gone hours ago, and still they bounced along at an alarmingly fast pace for the driver to be able to navigate in the night. The lamps that lit his way from the front of the carriage did not cast light all that far ahead. 

Sophia's eyes cast over to the woman sitting next to her. While her looks were not the current style, the woman was glaringly stunning. And earlier, while the ladies had made polite conversation as the stage had began rolling, this mysterious lady had been looking at her in an unnerving way. Almost as if the lady was examining her as a man's lustful eye would. Sophia had moistened her lips, finding her heart thudding and surprised at the tightening in the pit of her stomach when she had realized the lady's interest. But surely, she was mistaken. 

As the night had worn on, each lady had one by one faded off to sleep. The mysterious lady beside her had accidentally brushed her hand. Sophia felt badly at the way that she had jumped, and in nervousness slid to the side. The lady had given her a faint smile, then reclined her head and seemed to fall asleep with the rest. Terming the lady as mysterious was more from the sense that there was much more to her than she let on. She had given the name of Lady Anise Willoughby, though had given no explanation as to how she was given the distinction of 'Lady'. 

Sophia sighs, reaching up and lifting the heavy leather cover that is pulled across the window beside her and looks out into the rushing shadowed landscape. Dust instantly begins to creep up into the opening, but for the moment Sophia pays it no mind. She had practically memorized each sleeping face around her and needed a change of scenery. 

The gun shot took her completely by surprise. When she saw the body of the driver slump over the side and go rolling on the ground, she was so shocked she could not even make a sound. The coach increased in speed and veered off the road. The uneven ground began to toss each of them around enough to make them bounce up off of the seats. Each of her traveling companions woke instantly up. Some began to cry out, while others tried to find hand holds. 

Sophia had already gripped the window and the edge of the seat beneath her, bracing her feet across on the other seat. Her short stature was no help however and she soon lost her footing and began to bounce around the seat again. Anise was much taller. She had easily braced herself with her feet against the other seat. Now her slender arm slid out and wrapped around Sophia's waist, pulling their bodies together and steadying them both. Sophie's stomach flipped at the embrace, but their peril was a quick distraction. 

The coach began to slow. It was then that she realized that they were not just running out of control. A male voice was speaking low to the team of horses, cajoling them into slowing to a stop. 

As the coach finally halted, the sound of several horses approaching could be heard. Realizing that this was a robbery, all of the ladies in the coach had gone completely silent. Sophia slowly slid away from the other woman's side and gripped her hands together in her lap. 

The men were speaking with low voices outside. Sophia knew in only a matter of moments, something was going to happen. 

Silence. The cadence of her heart drums so loudly in her ears that she is almost afraid it can be heard by all.

Footfalls. Boots crunching on the gravel around the carriage.

Silence. One breath, drawn shakily in.

The door of the coach is jerked open so hard the entire vehicle rocks from the force of it. The ones sitting nearest the door whimper, pushing their bodies back against the seat. Moonlight outlines the tall and wide outline of a man. And for a moment, he simply stands there and stares. Sophia dares a glance at Anise's face. Her lips are tightened, but not showing any signs of panic that is reflected on all the other faces around them. Sophia's hand silently slips across their thighs and grips Anise's. The grip is returned, though Anise does not look her way. But Sophia finds herself calming, as if feeding off of the mysterious lady's strength.

The man seems to finish his examination of them all. His face is in the shadows of the night, the only thing that the light from the interior of the coach picks up is a well tailored riding coat buttoned over a muscular torso. He speaks then, his voice smooth with an educated accent, giving the impression that he too is a person of breeding. "Good evening, ladies. It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance on this lovely evening. And thank you for joining us this evening to witness our quaint, but well rehearsed robbery. If you ladies will be so kind to give me your hand, I will assist you from your conveyance for but a brief amount of time." He holds up a black gloved hand to a rather plain faced brunette seated next to the door. She shakes her head quickly. The couple others closest to her gasp, making little whimpers and shaking their heads as well.

The gentleman sighs. "My dearest lady traveler," he says more firmly, as his free hand raises and lifts the gun he was concealing in his coat, "It was not a request."

Silence overtakes the woman of the coach once more. But the girl reaches forward to take his hand, her entire body trembling. The gentleman leans forward to grasp her fingers, and his face falls into the light for a brief moment. Or what one can see of his face. A strong jaw and chin, with the faintest dimple, fall into Sophia's view first. His mouth is set in a grimace, but she was left with the impression that his lips could be soft. Such lips could lift into an easy smile. The rest of his face is covered by black cloth, holes cut out so that he can see. There is too much shadow to tell exactly what shade his eyes are, though she had impression of them being lighter colored. 

He brings the first girl out of the coach quickly, handing her down onto the ground before reaching in for the next. One by one, all 6 of the others are quietly handed out of the coach. When Anise begins to slide across the seat as well, he holds up his hand. "If I may stop you there, madam. I have run out of escorts for the two of you. Please remain where you are, it will be your turn momentarily."

Then he closes the door behind him, leaving Sophia and Anise alone in the coach. Anise does not release Sophia's hand, but turns to face her, speaking quietly in the silence of the coach. "They do not appear to be harming them. We would hear them cry out." Sophia nods. She continues to cling tightly to the other woman's hand. It had became a lifeline to her at the moment, a human connection that she needed to keep herself from flying into a panic. She had never faced any kind of hardship or moment of peril as this. Her youth increased her fright or flight instincts, and it was becoming hard to not simply hurl herself from the coach and run for it. 

Anise seemed to be able to sense this. She covered their joined hands with her free one, rubbing her thumb back and forth over the curve of the side of Sophia's hand. "They will move on quickly, my dear." This she says in a whisper, but there is no longer the conviction that her earlier words held.

It was the feminine cry of desperation that made them both freeze. The male laughter that followed made Sophia begin to tremble. She did not have to be told what those two sounds joined by the faint fabric rip meant. Anise seems to lose some of her color when another female voice begins to cry in begging tones before being pulled further and further away. 

This time when the door to the coach opens, both of them jump and gasp. It is the gentleman again, and he simply steps up into the coach and closes the door behind him, taking a seat across from them. He is obviously handsome. Now she can see that his hair falls to his shoulders, a near black sheen that is wind tossed and masculine. Somehow, his beauty makes Sophia even more ill at ease, as if the devil himself had placed himself into the coach with them.

"It seems my fellow highwaymen have decided to partake in the more exotic pursuits with your fellow travelers. My apologies at the delay." He points at Anise and motions her to the seat beside him as he pulls out a cloth bag and opens the top. "Over here, my dear. Empty your valuables into here." Anise slowly disengages her hands from Sophia, who instantly begins to tremble more violently. She eases across the space to the seat beside him and begins to remove her jewelry and place it in his bag. The Highwayman watches her for a moment before turning to look at Sophia. 

His gaze lingers over her. Her eyes become entrapped by his, and she finds herself unable to break that contact. "And what is your name, my dear?"

Figuring that it would be just easier to provide him with the information than test his limits at this point, she quickly replies, "Sophia."

"Lady Sophia, no doubt?" He asks, which she nods in response. His lips lift into a smile and she finds that she was correct, the smile would come easy to his face. "A pure white rose you are then, yes? Untouched in the blossom of youth." Sophia makes no response. Anise shoves the bag against his stomach, however. "There. All my things of value. I will get Sohpia's for you." She begins to move across again, but the Highwayman quickly grasps her arm and flings her back into the seat again. "You will remain where you are."

He moves over beside Sohpia now, who looks at Anise with panicked eyes. Anise motions for her to calm down, but does not move for fear it will anger the robber. The man leans in, his face close to Sophia's. "You hold many things of value, do you not?" His hands touch her then, skimming up both of her arms, over her shoulders and resting on her neck. "These earrings. Only the purest emerald, mm?" Strong fingers stroke both sides of her jaw before skimming back to remove both of the clip earrings she wore. Her breath escapes in a shaky sigh, anxiety only making her trembling increase.

His lips skim down the side of her neck as his hands slip down her arms again. "Bracelets," the word is a whisper against the tender flesh of her neck, his lips caressing. "Only the most perfect diamonds can grace your wrist." Strong fingers again, slip along the sensitive area her wrist, right over her pulse. He undoes the one bracelet she wears, slipping it and the earrings into a pocket. 

Then his hands come up to cup her face. "There is another thing of value I wish from you," he tilts her face, slowly laying his warm lips against her trembling ones. She had never been kissed before. But as he so gently, so slowly, caresses her mouth with his, she finds her heart thudding for reasons other than stark fear. "But it is something that you should see first." Suddenly, he has released her and is across the carriage with Anise in his grasp.

"Lady Anise." He chuckles, "Yes, I'm quite aware of who you are. I grew up the gentleman and am well aware of your sexual pursuits with some of the most noble and not to mention, influential, men of the realm." He pulls her arms behind her back and holds her wrists with one hand, his free hand coming over to cover one of her breasts. "Perhaps you and I have even shared the bed before. Who knows, hm? You probably forget one night stands in the crowd."

Anise is shaking her head, "Not in front of the girl." She hisses out from in between gritted teeth. "Let her go, and I will do whatever you want for however you want."

"Oh, you'll do that anyway. Lady Sophia is going to watch. Now," He frees the flap on his pants, and an extension of the male body that Sophia had never seen look like that swings free. It was long and wide, thrusting upward. Of course, she had glanced the naked male form in art and the rare glimpse of a bathing male inside her home. But never had she seen it hard and erect. She knew the basics of what went on between a man and a woman, her mother had not been shy in explaining it so that Sophia would be informed and not be so frightened of it on her wedding day. None of that could have prepared her for the flip in her stomach, the instinctual urges that assaulted her in that moment.

The Highwayman had been watching her response, and smiles. He grips the back of Anise's head with his free hand and finishes his sentence. "Now, suck my cock so Lady Sophia can see how it's done." And he shoves Anise's head down into his lap. At first, Anise fights against him. "Suck it, or you will have to watch Sophia learn how against her will." Anise groans, then opens her mouth, and shoves him inside her lips.

He jerks her head up and slaps her firmly across the cheek. "Do not scrape me with your teeth again. Do it correctly, or I will rape the innocent girl right now without a thought." Then he pushes her back down again. Anise glances over at Sophia, who has gone pale. Finally, she gently takes the Highwayman's cock in her mouth, and begins to slide him in and out of her lips. 

He lets out a grunt, adjusting the way he sits so that he is more comfortable, then pushes Anise's head down farther. "Take it all." Anise coughs once, then swallows the entire length of him down her throat. He holds her there for a moment, exhaling on a stifled moan. "Just like that." He releases her hands then, gripping her head with both of his hands and thrusts slowly and steadily, in and out of her mouth. Anise brings her hands forward, holding his cock at the base with one hand and cupping his balls with the other.

The Highwayman looks over to Sophia. Her expression had lost its look of panic again. She had looked away at first, but now he finds her curious gaze on his cock sliding in and out of Anise's mouth. Her watching along with Anise's skilled hands and mouth was going to quickly bring him to fulfillment. So he suddenly jerks Anise upward, turning her around so that she is in his lap, her back against his chest.

"Next lesson." He murmurs as he begins lifting Anise's skirts and petticoats up. He rips her undergarments down and off of her, flinging them to the side so that when he spreads her legs wide, Sophia can clearly see the already moist pussy. "What will bring you pleasure, little blossom." He speaks softly, looking at Sophia's face. Then his fingers tease the lips of Anise's pussy.

She trembles, wanting to say no so Sophia will not have to see this, but still knowing that if he didn't do it to her, he would do it to the virginal Sophia. That and, now... she wanted his touch. When his fingers stray across and dip into her wet hole, she gasps, exhaling it in a moan. He brings his finger tip up and circles her clit. Anise jerks, then writhes her body against his in pleasure as he takes two fingers and slides them inside of her. 

Sophia swallows, shifting the way she is sitting. There is a dampness in between her legs that she does not understand, and an almost throbbing sensation of arousal. The Highwayman watches her, his fingers stroking more quickly over Anise's clit so that she begins to moan, her hips beginning to move with his hand. He brings one hand up over her body, pulling her bodice away so that he can grip her bare breast. He captures her nipple in between two fingers and slowly begins to apply pressure. Anise's moans grow more loud, her sensual body's movements more defined. 

He lifts her by the hips then, turning her around and beginning to lift her skirts up so that Sophia will be able to see him thrust inside of her. Anise, her mind cloudy from pleasure, takes a moment to realize what will happen. Then she begins to shake her head, reaching back to free her skirts again. "No, she really does not need to see this." He jerks her hand forward again, "Behave." He growls. But Anise starts to insist, "No!"

The Highwayman's anger flickers over his face. He pulls Anise against him in a vice like grip, her skirts jerked upward into his balled fist. Then he violently impales himself upward, entering her roughly and begins deep, strong thrusts. Anise, cries out, forgetting the presence of Sophia as sensations overtake her good sense.

Sophia had let out a whimper at the violence of it, but it soon becomes apparent to her that Anise enjoys what he is doing to her. The Highwaymen watches Sophia's face, her parted lips... sensing her arousal. 

Then he lets his head fall back as he begins to thrust with abandon into Anise's velvet warmth. She is so wet, so eager to have him inside of her. The walls of her pussy grip him, massaging with every thrust. He slams into her over and over, and her cries of pleasure steadily become louder and louder. Sophia begins to shift again in the seat, not understanding the arousal that had earnestly begun to build in between her legs. Her hands grip against her own body, without the knowledge of what to do to relieve herself.

The Highwaymen watches her. But his pleasure will no longer be denied. He suddenly swings them around, bringing Anise on her back on the seat and so that he can give harder thrusts into her. Her legs wantonly wrap around his waist, her hands coming up to grip her own breasts. In only a few of these deep thrusts does she find her release, her hips lifting to meet his as her orgasm floods through her. "Ahh god, yes, yes!" She cries out, jerking up against him and rocking her hips against his. The Highwayman slams her back into the seat again, then grips her hips, slamming into her without relenting, deeper and deeper. Then he too cries out, shoving into her and letting out a feral masculine growl of pleasure. 

Both of them lay there, dragging in deep breaths. Sophia had begun to breath hard as well, her eyes wide and watching them. The Highwayman lifts his head to glance over her way. He would answer her un-voiced questions, soon.



The Highwayman



This is my first submission to Literotica. I do hope you will enjoy it.

-----

Madeleine rode to her fate in a truly grim state of mind. One would think that she were facing the hangman instead of her betrothed. Her father, the merchant Hawthorne, had given her hand to the Earl of Dunnington in trade for forgiveness of his own gambling debts. How she hated the miserable sire who had never treated Madeleine or her mother better than he did his hunting hounds. She had always expected little of him, but to trade his own flesh and blood to a perverted lecher with a reputation like the Earl's was even lower than Madeleine could have imagined.

Perhaps, Madeleine thought, she might bribe the coach's driver to help her escape. No, too risky. He was her father's man, after all. Perhaps the innkeeper at their next stop would be better, but even that was risky. While her jewels were valuable, they could not compare to the reward her father would offer to anyone who foiled her escape. He had too much riding on this marriage to let his beautiful but otherwise insignificant daughter interfere with the transaction.

"Well," she thought with determination. "If I can't find a means of escape, I'll simply have to kill myself. That would be far better than dying of shame!" 

On that thought, Madeleine fell into a fitful sleep. Her nightmares of the brutish Earl sent chills through her young body. In her dreams, she escaped, only to be caught and returned to the Earl's leering eyes and groping hands. She saw herself standing at the altar, bound and gagged with tears streaming down her face, shaking her head furiously when asked "Do you take this man. . .", yet nevertheless hearing the dreaded words "I now pronounce you man and wife."

Was it the nightmare that woke her, or was it something else? A loud thud from the area of the driver's seat put Madeleine's senses on high alert, as did the fact that the carriage was now moving at great speed. Looking out of the window, although the early morning sky was still dark as night, she saw riders who had overtaken her entourage. Alarmed, she shook her lady's maid awake.

"Beatrice! Wake yourself, you ninny! Something is happening!"

Before the hapless maid was fully conscious, the carriage came to an abrupt halt, throwing Madeleine to the floor. In the process, Madeleine's head roughly hit the opposite bench. "Merde!", she cried out just before losing consciousness. 

------------

"Oh, will this godforsaken carriage ride never end?" Madeleine thought as she struggled to regain consciousness. She was horribly uncomfortable, and her head hurt dreadfully. Realization dawned on her, however, when she realized that she was not on a moving coach but, instead, lying on a bed of straw.

Her stiff limbs tried to help her into a sitting position, but the pain in her head instantly made her nauseated and she fell back.

A deep voice came from above her. "Mam'selle, you had best lie back until your head feels better."

Shocked at hearing a strange man's voice, Madeleine overcame her queasiness. She bolted upright. In the darkness, she could barely make out a roughly clothed giant of a man sitting near her. Fearlessly, she demanded "Who are you? And where have you taken me?"

"Hush! You do yourself no good by getting upset," the giant said calmly. "My name is Jacques. You've just had a small change in your travel plans. But you needn't fear. You won't come to any harm. Winston told the men that he'd kill anyone who dared to touch you. He knows that you're to be wed, and after he receives your ransom from your father, you'll be back on your way to your intended, happy as you please." 

That, of course, was the last thing that Madeleine wanted to hear. "Who is this Winston?" Before she could continue, a door opened. Unaccustomed to the bright light that streamed in, Madeleine at first couldn't see the man who entered the musty chamber. 

A new voice responded to her question. "I am Winston, at your service, Miss. And we are in a borrowed stable, en route to my home."

For some reason -- perhaps it was the commanding voice or perhaps it was the impressive silhouette that loomed above her -- Madeleine's bravado fled her and she was suddenly quite afraid. She was calmed only to a small extent by the knowledge that dead, she was no use to her abductors. 

The man called Winston closed the door behind him, returning the room to darkness.

"So, Miss Madeleine, are you comfortable?" The deep voice, surprisingly, was not unrefined. A finger traced the line of her cheek. She felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise and a small chill run up her spine. When she did not answer, the man struck a match and lighted a lamp on the table beside the bunk.

Bringing Madeleine to her feet so that she could face him, his breath caught in his throat. Jack Winston had seen beautiful women before, but never one so unspoiled in her beauty as Madeleine. Briefly, the thought of her in the grasp of the vile Earl of Dunnington revolted him. But he pushed aside his sympathy. "No doubt she enters this marriage in return for the fiend's riches," he thought cynically.

In the meantime, without intending to, Madeleine inspected the face before her. He was not at all what she expected. Instead of a rough, dirty lout, she found him to be almost impossibly handsome. He was quite well groomed, with a trimmed beard and brown-gold waves that reached his shoulders. His full lips curved into a smile, somewhere between mocking and seductive, while his eyes, intensely green, were locked on hers. 

Although she tried to appear composed, Madeleine she found herself nearly hyperventilating. When she saw him taking in her rising and falling breast, her cheeks burned with embarrassment.

"Are you a highwayman?" she asked in a somewhat trembling voice.

Jacques let out a large guffaw. "You could say that, Mam'selle. Winston is the king of all highwaymen!"

Winston silenced the man with a gesture, then addressed Madeleine. "You needn't fear me, Miss Hawthorne. I don't intend to harm you, merely to involve you in a business transaction with your father," he said pleasantly. 

Without thinking, Madeleine spat in response, "Why shouldn't you? My father certainly has not hesitated to treat me like a chattel! Why should you not do the same?" Hr bitter words surprised Winston and brought back the earlier feelings of sympathy for her plight. Perhaps the wealth of the depraved Earl truly held no allure for the girl. Knowing the man from personal experience, Jack Winston shuddered as he wondered if the young woman knew just how rotten was the soul of her future husband, the man whose depredations she would suffer on a daily basis.

Meanwhile, Madeleine realized that she needed to advance her own plan. She held her temper in check and went on. "The wise trader, sir, does not settle on one buyer before hearing another out."

An amused twinkle came to Winston's eyes. "What do you mean? That I should also bargain with your betrothed? Since rumors of your father's financial ruin are rampant, I have every intention of approaching the Earl, even though I believe he has already paid your father handsomely for you."

This only confirmed what Madeleine already knew, that her father had offered her in trade to pay off his substantial debt to the Earl. In spite of herself, she felt bitter tears stinging her eyes. She fought them back and continued with as much equanimity as she could muster, "No, it is not the Earl of whom I speak. It is I with whom you should bargain. I am willing to buy my freedom from you with part of my dowry."

He withheld a chuckle at her expense and responded seriously. "Sadly, my lady, your dowry is already mine, as are your jewels. Is there anything else you have to offer that is not already mine or that can't be mine for the taking?" he asked, brushing a tendril of hair from her throat. His eyes sought her delicious breasts.

The tears that she had heretofore controlled began to spill over her lashes. She fought to retain her composure and restrain her anger. Setting her jaw and looking straight at him with steely eyes, she said firmly "My father's treatment of me as a whore does not make me one. Although you steal what is rightly mine, I will not purchase my freedom with my body!"

Her directness and apparent innocence surprised and aroused him. "My sweet child," he said, capturing her chin in one strong hand, "What you have to offer or withhold -- as you choose -- is nevertheless mine for the taking. I can assure you, though, that with me you will find more pleasure than you would at the hand of your betrothed."

"My 'betrothed' is not of my own choosing," she spat. "I expect no pleasure from him. I would sooner have you toss me to the wolves than deliver me to that monster. As for you or any man, my mother told me all about the supposed 'pleasures' of being with a man -- the pleasure of being rutted, invaded, no more than a receptacle for a man's seed . . . I'll have none of that, thank you!"

Winston mused silently. "So she is not an empty headed fortune hunter. And it seems that she may even be an innocent." In spite of his earlier mercenary intentions, he found himself wondering whether the bounty taken from the coach would be sufficient should he decide not to exchange her for ransom. For, although he had had more than his share of women in his life, Winston was unwilling to let go of this one just yet. The combination of her beauty and her fiery spirit hardened his cock to the point where the confines of his breeches were quite uncomfortable. Her innocence and pride stirred something deeper within him. He was resolved to be the man who would overcome her aversion to coupling with a man.

Gripping her wrists, Winston leaned toward Madeleine and softly kissed the spot where her neck joined her shoulder just beneath her ear. The kiss made Madeleine's stomach flutter and momentarily confused her. Recovering, she recoiled and tensed, wondering if she could seize his knife and use it on either him or herself.

Winston whispered between kisses "Sweet Madeleine, you are resolute for one so young and inexperienced. Do not allow your mother's undoubtedly limited experience keep you from enjoying what your beautiful body was created to do. Your father is clearly as much a wretch in the bedroom as he is with his daughter's future. If your mother had experienced a real man, . . . "

Madeleine was repulsed by his words and tried to twist away from him as best she could. As she did, Winston took her earlobe gently between his lips and caressed it with his tongue, sending a chill down Madeleine's spine. He whispered "Together, we will prove your mother wrong. Making love should be like wine, sweet and intoxicating."

Struggling to break free of his grasp, Madeleine retorted "I'd sooner die before drinking of that cup!"

As she spoke, Madeleine brought her knees up to her chest then kicked out at Winston. Her efforts, though, had no effect. He moved aside before she could strike him. Chuckling, he reached under her skirt and tore two long strips from her petticoat. Madeleine thrashed about as hard as she could, but could not keep him from tying each wrist to a bedpost. "Let me go, you pig!" she spat. 

He simply laughed. Turning to his second in command, he ordered "Jacques, get her ready for the journey. We leave in fifteen minutes" and he turned on his heel and left them.

"Mam'selle, we don't have a side saddle. Can you ride astride?" Jacques asked.

Madeleine snorted in derision. "Better than any of you louts, I daresay." She remained aloof as the outlaw gathered her valise and cloak. Reluctantly, she followed him out of the stable. As they walked toward the horses that were to carry them on their way, she eyed one in particular, a magnificent stallion. If she had him as her mount, she would have an easy time in escaping. But Madeleine was helped onto a good natured mare, noting ruefully that Winston claimed the stallion. Escape on horseback was unlikely to happen.

The band of six men and Madeleine rode for what seemed to Madeleine to be an eternity. In reality, it took just three days to reach their destination. During that time, Winston deliberately avoided Madeleine, forcing himself to keep his thoughts on the prize. He had a duty to his men, who had risked their necks in abducting the young woman and who deserved their share of the ransom. And taking a considerable sum from Dunnington would be a great satisfaction. Anyway, Madeleine was just another chit. He had no shortage of pussy. Indeed, it was offered freely and bountifully wherever he went.

But the hurt in Madeleine's eyes touched him, and the defiance in the set of her jaw intrigued him. What red-blooded man could resist her combination of innocence and gumption? Just thinking of being the one to take that innocence, of watching the fire in her eyes as he plunged his cock into her made him hard as a lance and forced him to shift uncomfortably in the saddle.

His dilemma was no better resolved by the time they arrived at his compound. In spite of the wealth Winston had accumulated through his illegal profession, he lived modestly on a secluded farm. His own house was small but ample, and several smaller outbuildings provided comfort and shelter for his men and, for those who had them, their broods.

An elderly woman emerged from Winston's house as they approached. A grin split her wrinkled face. "I heard ye was on the way with a bonny one. They wasn't mistaken! But she's a skinny one! Bring 'er inside fer somethin' to eat."

Winston led Madeleine into the house, and his men dispersed. Inside, he addressed the old woman. "Miss Hawthorne will be staying with us for several days while I negotiate with her father. Please see to it that her accommodations are clean and pleasant." He turned and left the house, fearing that if he stayed near her, his mission would become less important than having her in his bed.

"Well, Missy, I'm Nell and I'll take good care of yer whilst ye're here. We'll get ye settled after ye've had some food. Now, eat!"

Madeleine sighed and sat down at the table. It appeared that Nell would stay with her until she was finished, so she couldn't steal a knife, at least not now, so she might as well eat. During her meal, Nell prattled on about Winston and what a fine, generous man he was, giving Madeleine some hope that perhaps she could plead for her freedom.

That evening, when Winston returned to his house, he found Madeleine waiting in the parlor instead of asleep in her room as he'd expected. Raising an eyebrow, he smiled his wicked smile. "Could it be that you have taken me up on my offer of instruction in the ways of making love?"

Madeleine blushed furiously. "Of course not! I merely hoped that we could talk." 

"Ah, sadness! But if you would like to talk, I am at your disposal."

Under Winston's intense gaze, Madeleine found herself at a loss for words, but she forced herself. Her words spilled out. "Nell tells me that you are a kind and decent man. I beg of you, please let me go free! Do not send me to the Earl or back to my father. I may not be worldly, but I know what fate awaits me with them, and I would truly rather die. If you send me on, I swear that I will find a way to kill myself before that swine touches me."

Winston believed her. Moreover, he was determined not only that her death (or worse) wouldn't be on his conscience, but that she would be his. The mighty Winston had fallen hard, and the tantalizing Madeleine had been his downfall. Rather than allow her to see his weakness, however, he maintained his nonchalance.

"Ah, sweet Madeleine, if I could only justify not sending you to the Earl, I would most certainly accommodate your wishes. However, I have a duty to my men. They endanger themselves in exchange for a rich reward, and if I have to share your dowry with them that reward will not be nearly as great as the ransom you would command."

At his words, Madeleine bit back her tears and tried to plead her case, but he continued. "I could, of course, give the men your entire dowry. That would satisfy them, no doubt, but where would that leave me? Sadly empty handed, I fear." He paused for dramatic effect. "There is a solution, perhaps."

Her eyes lit up with hope. "Please!"

Boldly, Winston gestured, bringing Madeleine's attention to the large bulge in his trousers. She blushed furiously.

"I fear that your charms are giving me a dreadful case of blue balls." At her baffled look, he went on to explain rather shamelessly. "Darling, when a man desires a woman, his cock is most affected, as you can see mine is. If that desire is not satisfied, his poor cock suffers damnably." He cupped his bulge and grimaced dramatically as if his pain were unbearable, causing a deep blush from the roots of Madeleine's hair to her neck and modestly exposed bosom.

"I'm afraid that the only fair solution would be for me to bed you, don't you think?"

Sparks flew from Madeleine's eyes. "You are no better than my father or the Earl! To think I believed Nell when she called you a decent man! Well, if that is your so-called solution, I have a better one. I can just as easily kill myself now rather than later!" And she charged toward the large fireplace as if to throw herself into it. 

Luckily, Winston was faster. He caught her quickly, threw her over his shoulder, and carried the crying young woman to his chamber. Plopping her down onto the mattress, he looked at her with a combination of amusement and frustration. "Madeleine -- you don't mind if I abandon the formal 'Miss Hawthorne', do you? It isn't often that I have to force a woman to my bed. In fact, I usually have to discourage many of them. But, you see, I have determined that such a lovely and innocent young woman should not continue under the misinformation that your mother has sadly imparted to you. I cannot send you on your way without showing you why God made man and woman physically different yet oh so compatible. And if, in the instructional process, my blue balls are cured, all the better."

He stepped closer to the trembling young woman and caressed her neck with the lightest of touches. Initially, she winced, expecting roughness. Instead, she felt a gentleness that surprised her. Running the back of his fingers down her throat to the bodice of her dress, Winston sent shivers throughout Madeleine's body, awakening sensations in places and in ways of which Madeleine hadn't been aware. 

"This is hateful!" she cursed herself silently, struggling vainly to avoid his lips as they approached her.

The arms that held her down on the bed were undoubtedly strong. His kisses, however, beginning just beneath her ear and trailing down her creamy throat, were as soft and gentle as a baby's breath. He stopped to gaze at the cleft of her breasts that just barely peeked from her bodice. Her skin was the color of alabaster. There, however, the resemblance to the cold, hard stone ended. She was warm, supple. He imagined drowning happily in her softness. 

Fortunately for Winston -- not so for Madeleine -- her traveling dress buttoned in the front. Continuing to caress her with his lips, he deftly unfastened the buttons to a point below her slender waist. 

"Stop! I demand that you let me go!" Madeleine screamed at him in helpless fury. But her thrashing only served to whet his appetite. For, indeed, her struggles made her bosom heave, rising and falling beneath the tightly bound corset, teasing him as few other sights could.

He looked with distaste at the corset. "What an abomination! To cage a woman's body as if it were something to be ashamed of!" He drew his dagger and deftly cut through the cords that bound her corset so tightly against her. The garment fell away, spilling forth lush, full breasts. Their ivory skin was flawless, and the tight pink nipples made his mouth water. While Winston's eyes drank in the exquisite sight, shame burned in Madeline's cheeks -- shame, and something else, a strange aching feeling.




The Highwayman



Winston's cock grew even harder at the thought of stroking his tongue around the succulent buds. Nevertheless, he hesitated before allowing his fingers to trace tiny circles on the hardened tips. 

"My God, Madeleine! You are perfect! I am blessed by the heavens to be the first to partake of this exquisite feast," he said hoarsely as he toyed with her exquisite breasts.

An unknown and unbidden pleasure was spreading through Madeleine. The feeling of the calloused skin of his hands heightened the terrible ecstasy than ran through her trembling body and made her sensitive nubs constrict and stand out like cherries ripe for picking. 

Anguished protests ran through her mind " What is happening to me?" she thought. The feelings raised by this marauder were wrong -- they had to be! Madeleine thrashed and tried to twist away from him, her chest heaving with her breathless struggle. As she did so, she unwittingly turned in such a way that her right nipple found itself brushing against his lips.

"Aha! Your body shows more eagerness than your words convey. Shall we start our lessons with your lovely breasts? Shall I give in to their impatient demands and caress them to ecstasy?" 

He continued to roll and gently pinch her rosy nipples between his fingers, adding with a smile, "You know, when a woman is aroused, she cannot deny it, for her body always tells the truth." And, indeed, the sensation was unlike anything she had ever sensed or imagined. Whatever her mother had experienced at the hands of her father, it surely was not this! 

"No!" she moaned as her pelvis began to move involuntarily. 

With a wicked smile, he said "An apt student! Excellent! Perhaps we can advance our lesson more quickly." She made no response other than to shoot daggers at him with her eyes.

Raising one finger to his mouth, he wet it with his tongue and brought it back to her breast. The cool moisture on her tender bud startled her. Unwittingly, Madeleine arched her back, thrusting her breasts toward him. He quickly took advantage of the situation and plucked a nipple into his mouth, alternating between running his tongue slowly around the hard nub and raking his teeth over the super-sensitive tip.

The wetness of his mouth made the nipples even harder and more erect. As if with a mind of their own, they jutted out brazenly, begging to be teased and fondled. He continued to suckle and when the rough stubble on his chin grazed a sensitive tip, Madeleine could not control the hungry moan that escaped. With a wicked grin, Winston rubbed his beard back and forth across her tender nipples until Madeleine was nearly in a frenzy. He lingered there for an eternity, teasing and biting until both nipples were red and hardened with desire, pressing against his tongue and fingers. To Madeleine's puzzlement, she felt shockwaves running through the grotto between her thighs. Her pelvis writhed against her will and moisture ran from her pussy.

Winston smiled wickedly and moved his hand to raise her petticoats. "As I suspected, other areas have awakened. Let us proceed, bella." Swiftly, he ripped her drawers from her loins, exposing her moist downy bush. His strong hand forced its way between her legs. "How dare you!" she cried vehemently, struggling to press her thighs together.

Nevertheless, he continued to stroke the velvety curls. His fingers found their way to the outer lips of her pussy. "Mmm, you are so wet for me," he murmured as he stroked her labia, back and forth until the moist folds yielded and allowed him in. Finding her clit, he rubbed it back and forth, sending a shudder through her body. Madeleine gasped. "Ohh! Please . . ." The word "don't" just couldn't come out. She pressed her cunt, aching and dripping, into his hand, demanding more from it. 

He smiled. "The pupil seems to be growing impatient. What shall we do to punish the naughty pussy? I think we shall just ignore it for a time and return to our friends." And with that, he was back at her bosom. With his finger, he salved the moisture from her pussy onto her distended nipples. Incredibly, he began to lick it off, slowly savoring the taste of her womanhood. 

Madeleine could hold back no longer. As her body convulsed in paroxysms of ecstasy, she ground her pelvis into his body above her. As she did so, she felt a sizeable, hard object between them, pounding back in time with her own thrusts. 

What in the name of heaven was happening to her? While her fear had not abated, it was joined by rapture the likes of which she had never known. Surely this man was a demon! No man's touch -- from the Earl's possessive groping to the surreptitious fondlings of her father's disgusting colleagues -- was like this. It was as if he had cast a spell on her.

As she caught her breath and wondered where this was leading, he stepped off of her. Swiftly, he removed his shirt and began to unfasten his breeches. Madeleine could not take her eyes off of him. His body was formed like that of a god. His chest was broad, covered in soft brown hair that narrowed into a line down his stomach leading to his groin, as if pointing the way. There was no need for that, however, as his prominent bulge brought sufficient attention to itself. His muscles were firm and well defined. Although Madeleine had seen marble statues of heroic young men, she had never dreamed that the flesh could be such an improvement over art.

The highwayman returned to the bed and Madeleine's side. "You are trembling," he whispered to her. "Don't fear. I will not hurt you. Nor will I rob you of your maidenhood -- you will give it willingly." 

Winston removed what was left of Madeleine's garments. He ran a finger from her neck, across her breast and over her belly, murmuring, "Mmm, so soft and so pure." Indeed, he treated her with a kind of reverence that he had shown no other woman, as if even he -- the feared and desired Jack Winston -- were daunted by her flawless womanhood, both sensuous and innocent at the same time. 

His mouth sought her breast again. With her newly acquired experience, she instinctively turned toward him and arched to meet his descending lips. He did not disappoint her. While his tongue circled and flicked one nipple, he pinched and twisted on the other. To her surprise and utter shame, he took her hand and guided it to her other breast. "Now," he whispered huskily, "show me what you have learned. Use these sweet fingers to give yourself pleasure."

She struggled and tried to pull her hand away, but she was no match for his strength. He forced her thumb and forefinger to grasp the puckered jewel at the tip of her breast and then, to pinch and twist. Ceasing the rough play, he took her fingertip and gently ran her fingernail back and forth across the very tip of her nipple. The sensation was intoxicating, and Madeleine could do no more than whimper and mew at the rapture she felt under his tutelage.

Winston made a trail of soft kisses from her breast down her belly to her silken bush. Putting her legs on his broad shoulders, he shocked her by burying his head into the crevice. His tongue performed a magic dance across her sopping pussy, snaking between her lips until it found what he sought -- the small orb that would bring her sheer rapture. As he lapped at her tender clit Madeleine found herself close to screaming -- not screams of pain, but of desire. Despite her inexperience, she knew that there was more to come and she felt as if she would die if she did not have it soon. Feeling her frenzy, he nipped and sucked hard on her clit until Madeleine exploded in the second orgasm of her life. She cried out as her hips bucked under his unrelenting assault.

He withdrew and watched her with delight as the paroxysms abated. She could barely whisper, "What have you done to me?" Her words showed no torment, but rather newfound ecstasy.

"My sweet, what I have done to you is nowhere near over. You are about to become a woman, to take my cock in your pussy and become mine."

He lowered his lips to hers as he whispered her name before covering her body with his own. Her breasts heaved beneath him as his cock pressed against her mound. He studied her expression, smiling at the effect he had on her. He placed his hands on either side of her head, gazing deep within her eyes, covering her mouth with tender kisses. 

Madeleine gasped as suddenly she felt Winston press his cock into her most private of places. He entered her slowly so as to minimize her initial pain. Even still, Madeleine gasped and cried out as he thrust into her maidenhead. 

He kissed the tears from her eyes, murmuring "Madeleine, I promise you, that is the last pain my cock shall ever give to you. My sweet darling, our lovemaking will all be pleasure henceforth." He moved his swollen member ever so slowly up and down the channel of her pussy to give her time to get used to the feeling of having a man in her. 

When he felt her tension fade, his thrusts picked up speed and force. By now, he could hardly keep his own passion under control, and he thrust his thick cock deeper and deeper into her exquisitely tight pussy, faster and faster. Madeleine was a fast learner, and she quickly learned to match his movements, crushing her pelvis into his cock as he plunged into her. With a final effort he drove as deeply into her as a man could, pushing against her still tightening cunt muscles so forcefully that she climaxed again instantly. 

Madeleine was almost insane with need. Unwittingly, she held on to Winston tightly so that even if he wanted to withdraw it would be difficult. His thickness stroked her maddeningly, until she wondered if she should die with passion.

Her head thrashed back and forth until Winston's strong hands held her cheeks and forced her to look directly into his eyes. "Madeleine," he said in a hoarse whisper, "Madeleine my darling, was your mother correct?"

"You bastard!" she cried, while her pelvis rocked into his, trying to deepen his penetration and satisfy the burning within her and her inner muscles sucked him in even deeper, until his was near to bursting. "You know what you've don't to me!" Madeleine exclaimed as she exploded in a climax. Winston then allowed his own release, exploding within her while he crushed his lips to hers.

After a moment, he pressed his palms to hers, locking their fingers, and gazed intently into Madeleine's eyes. "You are mine forever, you know." And, indeed, at that moment she did know.

*

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The Highwayman



Our story opens at Belvedere Manor, an estate near the village of Liss in Hampshire in the year of our Lord, 1730 with King George the Second on the throne.

The estate didn't come into being until 1662, two years after Charles the Second was placed on the throne. That was because the Belvedere family had fought for the royal cause in the Civil War and this future king had been given refuge for nearly three weeks on his flight to France. He had not forgotten the loyalty shown and through the efforts of Edmund Belvedere during that bloody war of unrest, his son, Albion, was created an Earl and so the Manor had been constructed and the estate established.

Earl Albion died whilst this was being done and so his son Richmond became the second Earl Belvedere. He sired two sons and a daughter, born respectively, 1708, 1710 and 1716. They being Chester, Carlyle and Caroline, the use of the first letter of their names being in deference to the late King Charles.

But it's upon Lady Caroline that our story depends, being, for want of a better name, the heroine, the answer to that depends on your point of view as it unfolds.

You will have noted that she was a late child considering that her brothers were born only two years apart and her, six years after the second one. That was because her mother had been told not to have any more children, but she did, and suffered by doing so, for she died giving birth to Caroline.

She grew up to be a tomboy, not having a woman's hand to guide her. She constantly strived to join in her brothers games and emulate them in all they did. On their part, they tried to keep her at arms length, failing in most cases until the other personage in our story appeared on the scene.

Enter Lady Barbara Crompton. She was the daughter of an impoverished family, ruined during the Civil War, most of the family being wiped out. Barbara's mother once being a dalliance of Richmond before both their marriages was the reason for the two families to know one another. With the death of her parents, Richmond got to hear of this calamity and thought that if he brought this young orphaned girl to Belvedere, she might, as well as being a companion, bring Caroline back onto a steady track.

The tutor that lived at the Manor, well he was the third that had tried to give Caroline an education, was almost at his wits end and he, most of all, hoped that another young girl of the same age might calm down the wilful behaviour of our Caroline.

She had just turned fourteen and found that Barbara had been born two days after her, which gave her the ascendancy in age, but more than that, Caroline was more of a dominatrix because of trying to compete with her brothers on their terms.

Barbara fitted in nicely for she followed Caroline in every-thing she did, much to the dismay of the tutor. This fact was never transmitted to Caroline's father, Richmond.

Though the Manor had more than enough bedrooms, Caroline insisted that another bed be installed in her suite for Barbara, this was before she'd even arrived. Without a woman to run the household, Caroline generally got what she wanted and woe betide those that didn't obey her command.

Young Lady Barbara duly arrived, and Caroline instantly took her into her heart. She looked so lost and fragile, timid and frightened like a young doe, that she melted Caroline's heart who immediately took her under her wing. She was impressed and overawed at the size of the Manor and shrank back at the way Caroline was so imperious in her orders about taking Barbara's things up to her suite of chambers and to the seeing that the coachmen were suitable fed before their return journey.

'Come Barbara, we will greet properly inside,' and with a swirl of petticoat, led the way through the great hall and up a grand staircase and along a wide corridor until she stopped at a door that a servant, who had followed behind, rushed forward and opened for them. She swept in and Barbara, timidly followed. 

Caroline turned when she'd reached the very centre of the chamber and waited till Barbara's things had been brought in and the last servant left, closing the door behind them.

'Did you see their faces?' Caroline exclaimed as her own face opened up into a wide smile as she went forward with open arms to take Barbara into an embrace. 'Now welcome to Belvedere Manor and I hope that I can make your stay here a happy if not exciting one,' she said as she kissed her on the cheek.

'Thank you,' Lady Barbara stammered, still somewhat stiff in the embrace she was in. 'I...I hope to be.'

'Come on Barbara, loosen up. You feel as tight as a duck's arse. I didn't frighten you with that show out there, did I?' Barbara didn't reply. 'Oh come on, for God's sake! If I didn't act like the woman of the Manor, they'd walk all over me. I keep them on their toes and therefore I get what I want, instantly. Now stop being the shrinking violet and come and sit down and tell me about yourself.' This last was spoken in an entirely different manner and Barbara found herself responding, and took the proffered hand and went and sat on one of the window seats that looked out over the well tended grounds.

Barbara spoke of her sheltered life as an only child, her inept tutor and lack of funds for a decent one. The death of her parents and the bewilderment ever since and it wasn't until she had finished speaking that she realised that Caroline hadn't interrupted her once, but let her talk and reveal her own nature.

'Barbara,' and she was saying this softly. 'I'm glad you've come here. I am sorely in need of a friend and companion of my own age. Please say you will be my friend?'

'I...I will Lady Caroline,' Barbara stammered.

'Oh cut the crap Barbara, my name is Caroline. We're equals so let us be friends. I for sure need one here. I've two elder brothers who think I'm a dog's turd. One's a cretin and the other's a queer.'

'What's a queer?'

'I'll show you some time. Now let's get you sorted out,' she said getting up and pulling her into the huge bed chamber where the second bed had been installed. 'That's my bed,' pointing to the one furthest from the window, 'and that's yours. I thought it would be better if we shared this big room instead of you being alone in another one like this. Over there are my wardrobes and if you want to wear anything that's in there, feel free to wear it. Through that door is the night soil cabinet and jugs and basins with water for washing. This hanging rope is to call for a maid,' she said as she gave it a tug.

'If they take more than three minutes to answer it, give them a bollocking.' She stood there and it looked as if she was counting and appeared satisfied when the knock came at the door. 'Come in,' she shouted. 'You have to raise your voice for the doors are so thick you'd believe they came from a farmhands head,' she said to Barbara as the maid entered and curtsied. 'Hot water for two baths at the same time Maud.'

'Yes M'lady,' Maud said, curtsying again before leaving the room.

'That'll take at least an hour, so come, let me show you over the Manor, well the inside for now.'

So Barbara was given the sixpenny tour through many corridors, the door to each room being identified. The great hall, library, dining room, drawing room, withdrawing room and many other rooms, including the kitchens and indicated where the servants quarters were.

'I'll never get to know where everything is,' Barbara said when they returned to what was now their bedroom, 'it's so big.'

'You'll soon get to know all there is, believe me. Ah, the hot water is arriving,' Caroline said as they heard noises in the room where what we know as the toilet was installed. Though toilet to them was a bucket inside a small cupboard that had a wooden cover with a hole in the middle of it. This bucket was emptied twice a day and scrubbed clean before being put back.

'Come, we can still talk while we have our bath and then we'll get dressed for dinner.' She took Barbara's hand and led her into the bathroom. Two wooden tubs stood in the middle of the floor in the process of having huge buckets of water being poured into them. One of the maids constantly checking the temperature to make sure that it wasn't scalding.

Caroline stopped by one and waited and a maid came forward and began undressing her. Barbara moved back slightly when another maid came close to her and this was seen by Caroline.

'Don't be shy Barbara. Why else do we employ so many people. They dress and undress you and bathe you and all the rest of it, so don't be a prude.' By the time she had finished speaking, Caroline was completely naked and it was the first time that Barbara had ever seen another person, male or female completely without a scrap of cloth about their body.

She blushed and averted her eyes and this made Caroline laugh as she stepped into her tub. Barbara had seen that she was very slim in the waist and her eyes had been drawn to the small triangle of hair between her thighs, knowing that hers were a bit on the sparse side, though her breasts were about the same size and still, to her belief, growing. You cannot say that Caroline's body was muscular as in a man, but she was strong in her arms and had fairly sturdy thighs, not thin but then not too thick like a man's. It was the calves that showed she was a horsewoman by being very pronounced from having to grip the sides of a horse, scorning a side saddle, riding astride like a man. 

Overall, it was a fine figure of a girl very close to womanhood and Barbara had appreciated the short glimpse of the beauty as it disappeared below the water. All that was left to see was the fine slender neck which her auburn hair just touched, framing her slightly oval face. She wasn't an outstanding beauty, but she had the eyes that caught and mesmerised people like a cobra before a rabbit. They could convey amusement, pleasure, displeasure and even hatred if ever needed. They would flash fire if she was angry and yet, could convey warmth and sympathy if required.

The chin looked normal until she became firm and it would then jut out slightly and look as it was hewn from granite and yet when she smiled, a small dimple would appear at the sides. Her lips were not thin or over thick but were one of her more attractive attributes, kissable is a term that springs to mind. The mouth not too wide and when she laughed, she would show the perfect, well almost perfect white teeth. It was one to the left that was very slightly askew and though not really noticeable, it made you look twice at her and still not see what it was that had caught your eye. 

Now the tongue, well. It could lash like a whip, pierce like a rapier, strike like an asp and cut like a sword. It could also croon a lullaby, stroke one like velvet and simply ooze honey when it fitted her purpose.

There are too many words to show how many persona she could be when the occasion arose, from saint to harlot and all in between.

She relaxed in her tub with an amused smile on her face as she watched the futile gestures Barbara was making as she was being undressed, not quite knowing what to cover what was being uncovered, first one breast then another and not having a third hand to cover her pubic region when that was revealed and she couldn't get into the tub quick enough, her face crimson at this, to her, public disrobing.

'My, you are a shy one,' Caroline said as her outstretched arm was being washed. 'You were brought up on a farming estate weren't you?'

'Yes,' Barbara replied, trying to keep her shoulders below the water line of her tub as a maid was trying to wash her.

'Well I would have thought that seeing a stallion with his big thick dong swinging about to cover a mare, you would have lost your inhibitions about your own body. You have a lovely figure for your age and I think you will be a beauty when it's time for the stallion to cover you.' Barbara went bright red again and this made Caroline laugh. 'I can see that you need taking in hand and be shown the facts of life.'

Caroline noted that when it came to being washed between the legs, Barbara snatched the flannel from the maid to see to herself down there, whereas Caroline just smiled and opened her legs as far as the tub would allow for her maid to wash her there.

Though only fourteen years of age, Caroline was turning into a very sensuous woman and saw that in Barbara she had a challenge to show her what few pleasures she had found within her own body. How to ease the ache and heat that sometimes burnt.

Barbara still showed this shyness when being dried and both, with towels wrapped round them, went back into the bed chamber where they were dressed for dinner. Caroline took Barbara's hand when both were ready and took her downstairs and into the large dining room. Here, three males were lolling in their chairs drinking ale from pewter pots. At the head of the table was the eldest man who stood up first at their entrance to be introduced to their new guest. 

'My father, Earl Richmond of Belvedere, meet Lady Barbara Crompton.' Barbara curtsied and shook the proffered hand.

'Delighted to see you my dear,' he said, his voice, though not deep, was strong as his grip. His smile was genuine, showing through his beard that already was exhibiting flecks of grey though he was only forty six years of age. Barbara murmured her thanks.

'This is my eldest brother, Chester,' Caroline said.

'Delighted,' he said, the smile being insincere in his arrogant clean shaven face.

'Then my other brother, Carlyle,' who fairly simpered as he shook her hand with his rather limp one.

'It will be a pleasure to now have at least one female in the Manor,' casting a glance at his sister as he said it.

'He likens me to a boy,' Caroline said to Barbara before turning to the table in general but looking at Carlyle, 'because I could always beat him at his own games, but I thought with Barbara here, it would be three females now.'

'Caroline, you'll go too far one of these days,' he pouted back.

'With you behind me, I'd run a bloody mile,' she retorted.

'That's enough Caroline,' her father said and thumped the table to attract the attention of a manservant. 'More ale for me and some wine for the ladies, then, now we're all here, dinner.'

'Yes M'lord,' the man said and went and brought back a fresh tankard and a flagon of wine and two glasses which he filled for Barbara and Caroline. Another servant brought platters of food to the table and saw that each had a plate and some utensils to eat with. It was a rough and ready meal but wholesome, washed down with wine and ale. Barbara was glad when this first meal was over for she had been questioned closely and didn't like the way Chester kept eyeing her, his eyes constantly lingering on her bosom. 

            *

'Don't mind them,' Caroline said when they were back up in their bed chamber as the maids undressed them and helped them into their nightgowns before leaving. 'They're such boors and I'm so glad you came,' as she hugged Barbara and gave her a kiss before getting into her bed. 'Tomorrow morning we'll have an hour or two with Bellows, my tutor. How misnamed he is. He should be called Squeak, for he certainly doesn't bellow,' she laughed, watching Barbara get into her bed. 'Then we'll go riding and you can see the estate.'

            *

They were the only two down for breakfast, after which, Caroline took Barbara along to the drawing room which doubled up as the classroom. Here she met Mr. Bellows and found that Caroline was correct in giving him that nickname, for not only did he squeak but was also rather effeminate.

'He's also queer and bent,' Caroline whispered to Barbara.

'Queer, bent? What's that?' she whispered back.

'I'll tell you later,' she said once again to this query. Caroline was holding this back, not to tell but rather to show when the time was right.

Bellows was boring, getting them to write on their slates the Kings and Queens of England for the past two hundred years. Barbara simply copied what Caroline wrote.

'Was Cromwell a King?' Barbara whispered.

'I don't know, but I don't think he knows either,' she whispered back. But he did and corrected their mistakes.

They were both glad to get out when the lessons ended and went up to their room and changed for horse riding. Barbara was dismayed to see that she was to be fitted with a pair of men's trousers for this.

'I've never ridden astride a horse before,' she said to Caroline.

'Well you will now,' Caroline remarked, tightening the belt of the trousers she was wearing that was topped off with a loose white blouse that she tucked into the waistband. Tucked in so tight that her breasts could be quite clearly seen, especially the nipples.

'You're wearing that outside?' Barbara asked a bit shocked.

'Yes,' Caroline grinned. 'It gives the boys a thrill. You can see their cocks get hard inside their trousers,' and laughed at the expression on Barbara's face. 'Come on. Loosen up. You'll hear a lot worse and see more with me than anything old Squeak can teach us. Here,' and she moved over and really pushed the bottom end of Barbara's blouse down inside the waistband so that her breasts were quite clearly outlined. 'You've got a nice pair of tits and you should be proud of them. There, now that will rouse up a few of the boys, come on,' she said and led the way down to the stables.

She'd already sent word down that two horses were to be saddled and ready, which they were. Two grooms holding the bridle of each horse and Barbara could feel their eyes looking at her breasts and her face flushed.

'Another fine sight for you to see, eh Oswald,' the groom so addressed had been holding Barbara's bridle and she saw his face go red and she couldn't help but look at the front of his trousers to see that he had a big bulge there. The other groom helped her up for her to swing her leg across the horse's back, feeling the man's hand on her backside as he did so. Her insides were trembling at not only this blatant display of sexual interplay but of being in a saddle like this. She'd only ever ridden side saddle, and then wearing a long riding skirt so that she could hook her leg round the pommel while keeping it hidden from men's sight.

'That's right Barbara,' Caroline cried, 'now off we go,' and kicked at her horse's flank to make him move forward. Barbara did the same and found that this was better than just shaking the reins and speaking to the horse to tell it to move. She followed Caroline out of the stable yard and then out into the fields where Caroline kicked the horse again into a canter, Barbara again doing the same and got a thrill when the horse responded.

They rode for about twenty minutes before reining the mounts in for them to graze awhile.

'Did you see Oswald's face?' Caroline laughed, 'and his cock almost bursting the seams. You want to see it when it's up like that, it's huge.' She looked at the crimson flush on Barbara's face and laughed. 'Haven't you see a man's prick when it's fully erect?' she asked incredulously, and Barbara shook her head. 'My you have really led a sheltered life. We'll have to change that.' They moved off again and it took them all of three hours to ride round the estate before heading back to the stables and instead of going into the dining hall, it being really too late, grabbed a bite to eat from the kitchen.

            *

It took Barbara several days before she became used to seeing Caroline's naked body at bath time and was slowly losing her inhibition of Caroline seeing hers, the maid's didn't count.

They went out riding nearly every day after their schooling, though they did extra hours if it was really raining hard. Caroline didn't mind going out in a light shower for it gave the grooms and grounds men a better sight of her wet blouse with the wind making it stick to her body, so it looked as if she were naked up top. Barbara joined in the game of seeing how many erections they could see while in the stables or out in the grounds.




The Highwayman



Caroline would disappear from time to time for at least half an hour and when Barbara asked where she'd been, Caroline would just smile and say that she would tell her later.

            *

Winter was soon upon them and it brought the two of them closer together than before. The sky, on this day had been very dark and they knew they were in for a thunderstorm and it wasn't until they had just gone to bed when the storm broke. 

Rain lashed the windows and the air was heavy with electrical forces. Barbara got up out of bed and was just reaching up to draw the heavy curtains when a bolt of lightning struck quite close to the Manor followed by the enormous crash of thunder that made the very walls tremble and the glass almost come out of the window frame.

She gave out a loud scream as the flash lit her and room up for that brief moment and she simply flew across the room and without asking, jumped straight into Caroline's bed and went down under the covers trembling from head to foot.

She was clinging to Caroline as she shook and Caroline slid down also to hold the shaking girl in her arms.

'There, there,' she crooned, rocking Barbara in her arms. 'I'm here. Don't be frightened.'

'Lightening scares me,' Barbara sobbed, clinging to Caroline.

'It can't touch you in here, especially not with me being here too,' she chuckled, trying to boost up Barbara's spirits. 'Stay here with me and you'll be safe, but let me get a bit more comfortable. It's stifling under these covers,' and she wiggled her way back up so that her head was on the pillow but with Barbara's head still under the covers. In moving herself up the bed, her foot had firmly anchored the hem of her nightgown and so it was now off her breasts and almost at her waist, her arms trapped in the sleeves. It took some more wriggling to free her arms and yet still not let go of Barbara.

She now had the side of Barbara's face against one naked breast and this was giving Caroline a tingle down in her lower belly but was unable to move her hand down to soothe this itch. She could feel the tears on her breasts as Barbara still sobbed and Caroline shifted slightly to one side so that her breast moved under Barbara's face and the nipple touched her lips.

It was the nipple itself that moved her lips as it got hard from Caroline's inner excitement and they opened and began to suck on it, much to Caroline's joy. Phase one, she said to herself and lay back to enjoy the pleasure she was getting from having it sucked.

The sobbing eased but the sucking continued and Caroline slowly moved her other hand down the side of Barbara's neck and into the top of her gown, moving down over the top of her breast until she had the nipple in the middle of her palm.

Barbara had stirred but didn't stop Caroline from moving her hand and rubbing the nipple till that too was up and as hard as the one she was sucking. She gave out a low groan and moved own body slightly to give Caroline's hand more freedom of movement so that the whole breast could be fondled and at the same time, brought her free hand up and covered Caroline's other breast and began copying the hand movement that she was feeling on herself.

They continued to fondle each other for at least ten minutes before Barbara let go of the nipple in her mouth to speak.

'What are we doing Caroline?' she asked in a low voice.

'Comforting each other,' Caroline replied softly, nudging the head back to where it was and Barbara carried on the sucking for a few more minutes.

'Yes, it is comforting,' she said, releasing the wet hard nipple.

'Would you comfort me the same way?' Caroline asked, her voice still very soft, soft as velvet that lulled Barbara to say yes. 

Caroline moved down under the covers and gently eased Barbara's nightgown down off her shoulders until her breasts were free of the material and trembling herself, put her mouth down and began to suck on Barbara. Who in turn, began again to stroke and gently knead a breast of Caroline's as she felt a wave of heat roll deep inside her at the illicit thrill of having her nipple sucked and nibbled on. They fell asleep in this position though woke up in an embrace in the morning. 

            *

They looked into each other's eyes and saw not the slightest sign of embarrassment and Caroline kissed Barbara on the lips and sighed.

'I had a wonderful dream last night and I've woken up to find it was true. Will you kiss me to prove that I'm awake?'

Barbara did so without any hesitation and they held the kiss for several moments as they moved their bodies closer together, each feeling the breasts of the other that they had sucked on during the night.

It was a miserable day outside, heavy rain was falling and they spent four boring hours with Bellows until Caroline said that she'd had enough and got up and walked out of the drawing room, Barbara followed too.

'Where are you going in such a hurry,' Barbara asked as she hurried along behind Caroline.

'To find a piece of meat,' she replied as she strode along a corridor.

'I thought the kitchen was the other way,' Barbara said.

'Not that kind of meat,' she said and suddenly stopped so that Barbara bumped into her. 'You've never seen a man's cock before, have you?' Barbara shook her head. 'Right. Let's go and see Oswald's,' and she set off with Barbara, with some trepidation, following along in her wake. They had to make a dash for it across the yard in the rain until they got into the stables. They moved along the loose boxes, Caroline looking into each one until she found him.

'In here,' she said to Barbara who followed her to where Oswald had been raking the straw. He looked up at the sound of her voice and was surprised to see Barbara come in too as Caroline closed the door behind her.

'Barbara's never seen a man's cock before Oswald, and I've told her that you've got the biggest one here and I want her to see it,' her voice was strong and heavy with authority.

'I haven't got the biggest one Lady Caroline, ' he said in a slightly whining voice as he slowly backed away towards the wall behind him.

'I've seen all the cocks here and if I say it's the biggest, then it is. Now pull it out and let her see it.' It was a tone of voice that Barbara had not heard from Caroline before, but it was one that was obeyed.

'But it's not up, Lady Caroline,' he said as he began to undo himself.

'Maybe this will help,' she said and she opened up her blouse, pulling the sides apart for him to see her breasts. Barbara gave out a gasp at this blatant display to a man. Nevertheless, it was doing the trick for she now saw this man's penis outside of his trousers and looked on in amazement as she saw it began to grow before her very eyes, filling up, getting wider, bigger and longer till it was sticking up at a slight angle and was visibly throbbing.

'Now isn't that a sight?' she asked of Barbara, who was mesmerised at the sight of it, thinking of how large it was compared to when he first pulled it out. She looked at Oswald's face to see him give back a weak smile at being put on display in this way. 'It's as hard as a lump of iron,' Caroline said moving closer and putting her hand round it and moving it slightly, the foreskin moving and showing pink bits at the end which seemed to becoming a slightly purple shade. 'The outer skin is as soft as a babies bottom. Come and feel it.'

Like the mouse before a cobra, her feet moved without her knowing she was doing it and reached out as Caroline removed her hand for her to grasp Oswald's tool. It was as Caroline had said, the skin feeling like silk that glided smoothly over the bar of steel beneath it. It was hot to her touch too and she could feel it pulse and slightly jerk in her fist.

'Move your hand up and down,' Caroline commanded and she did so, surprised at how easily the skin moved on the shaft, that solid piece of meat beneath it. 'Do you know what comes out it when it is excited the way you are doing now?' she asked. Barbara shook her head, her hand still moving slowly up and down on the now embarrassed Oswald's erection. 'Show her Oswald,' she said, pulling Barbara's hand off him.

'But it's going.....' He began but was cut off by Caroline.

'Just do it!' she ordered, and he took himself in hand and began to jerk himself off, looking at Caroline's breasts as he did so. Barbara watched, standing in front of him, fascinated as his hand moved faster and faster, the head turning a deep purple as it was exposed with every backward movement of his hand. He gave out a groan and she watched the head swell that little bit more and suddenly, great gobs came out of the end and splattered the front of her dress.

'Aaargh,' she gurgled as she jumped back, but not far enough for two more gouts hit her as the hand kept pumping hard on his cock until only dribbles came out of the end. His body seemed to sag when he'd finished but knew from experience that he didn't dare put it away until told to do so.

'What is this?' Barbara had cried out as she looked down at the mess on her front. 

'It's called sperm,' said Caroline scooping some of it off the front of Barbara's dress and putting it into her mouth, sucking on her finger. 'It's the stuff that makes babies,' taking another finger full and sucking that off too.

'But you're putting it in your mouth,' Barbara gasped in horror. 'Won't that give you a baby?'

'No,' she said taking yet another fingerful. 'It's got to be put into your belly to do that. You can take it in the mouth okay. It tastes quite good by the way. Try some,' Caroline said, lifting a finger with some of the sperm on the end towards Barbara's mouth.

'No, I couldn't,' she cried, shrinking back.

'Don't be a silly, go on try it,' as the smeared finger touched her lips. Barbara closed her eyes and let the finger slip into her mouth and she sucked it off, getting the slightly salty taste that was soon gone as she too swallowed it as Caroline had done.

'There, that wasn't so bad was it? It's much better if you take the whole lot in your mouth. That's what I do, for you did ask me where I went sometimes. Do you want to suck on his?' she asked as she pointed to the now semi erect prick of Oswald that had traces of sperm still coming out of the end.

'No,' said Barbara.

'Well you don't mind if I do then?' she asked. Barbara shook her head, and looked on in amazement as Caroline knelt down in the straw and took the whole of Oswald's prick into her mouth and sucked out the last of his coming. Her head bobbed on him and she could see the bulge in the cheeks of Caroline as she moved it about in her mouth before she released him and stood up, licking her lips. 'There wasn't much left, but it was still good. Don't look so shocked Barbara, you don't know what you're missing. They enjoy it too, You can put it away now,' she said to him and Oswald quickly put himself back inside his trousers. He then looked at her expectantly. 'No. Not today,' she said as she covered her breasts. 'He likes to suck on them before I go down on him,' she said by way of an explanation. 'Come on, he's got work to do,' Caroline said, leading Barbara out of the loose box, stables and back into the Manor. 'Let's raid the pantry and have a drink.'

In there, she got two tankards and tapped the barrel there and filled them with ale and passed one over to Barbara and took a hefty swallow of hers before sitting down at one of the chairs there.

'Do,' Barbara started, taking a sip at her ale, 'do you do much of that?'

'Well I've sucked most of the men on the estate, except for my father and brothers that is. Carlyle likes to do it as well.'

'Carlyle?' Barbara exclaimed in a shocked voice.

'Yes, I told you. He's bent,' and she held up her fist with the first finger crooked over.

'Oh,' Barbara could only utter, still not knowing exactly what being bent meant. 

'You can't really know what it's like until you've tried it. To have a big throbbing cock in your mouth. To feel the man's heart beat rattling your teeth as you suck on him. Then to get that wonderful gush of his seed filling your mouth for you to savour before swallowing it. The men like me doing it too. Well it's better than having them fuck me and giving me a baby. That would never do. Father would kill me.'

'Don't the men say anything?'

'He'd kill them too if he knew. No, they'd be too frightened to say anything.'

'Are all men like that?' Barbara asked.

'Yes. Their brains are in their cock. If a girl lifts her dress or opens her mouth, they'll stick their cock in it quicker than you could spit. They'll do anything to be able to do it too, and I'm not just talking about the staff here on the estate either. They're the same the whole world over.'

'Have you been doing it long, er, doing it to them I mean?'

'Yes, Ever since my tits started to grow. I saw their reactions to them and it just went on from there,' she said, finishing her tankard. 'Do you want any more?' she asked.

'No thanks, I'll just finish this one.'

Caroline had one more till Barbara had finished hers and they went up to their rooms as it was by then, close to bath time. It was still raining heavily, and carried on through the night.

            *

At the first roll of thunder, Barbara was across the room and into Caroline's bed.

'Can we comfort each other again?' she shyly asked from under the covers.

'Of course we can my sweet,' Caroline said as she went under herself and kissed her on the lips, 'but let's get these nightgowns off first. They make me so hot,' and proceeded to pull hers off and then helped Barbara to remove hers and they moved into an embrace and began to kiss each other. Then came the fondling of breasts before they began to take it in turns to suck on the up raised nipples.

It was while Barbara was down sucking that Caroline pushed Barbara's hand down over her belly and whispered for her to put her fingers inside and start moving them. Barbara had done this a couple of times to herself and so knew what was wanted by this and so she did as asked and began to finger Caroline.

She almost drooled at not only of having her breast sucked but have fingers play with her sex and make her all wet and knew that with a little bit of practice, Barbara should be able to help bring her to an orgasm of which she only ever experienced once before. But it was enough for the time being to relax and give herself up to the pleasure she was receiving.

            *

It was nearly two weeks before Barbara accepted Caroline going down between her legs and using her fingers, mouth and tongue to excite her sex beyond her wildest dreams and have the exploding orgasm that made her scream out in ecstatic agony of sexual release. She writhed and squirmed herself all over Caroline, covering her face with grateful kisses and promised to be her slave for ever at being given such a wonderful experience.

She begged for this every night and was frustrated when she didn't have orgasm and it took Caroline some time to convince her that it didn't happen every time. The more you wanted it, the less likely you were to have it she explained. It took a while before Caroline got Barbara to go down on her and several months before she got the technique of how to bring Caroline to an orgasm. It was another month or two before they would be top to tail, pleasuring each other at the same time.

            *

They were now fifteen years of age and fully grown on top and because of not having another woman of rank at the Manor to tell them otherwise, they continued to wear dresses that had been a good fit two years previous. Therefore, wearing these old dresses, they looked as if at any time their breasts would pop out of the top being so tight and now very revealing.

Caroline had noticed that Chester and even her father were now casting their eyes in Barbara's direction when all were at the dinner table. She warned her to never be alone with either one of them and if she ever found she was caught in a situation with them, she was to scream her head off. This would either put the frights up them or have her or other members of the staff come running to her assistance. Barbara believed this wouldn't happen but heeded the advice all the same.

            *

During that first year there, Barbara had watched Caroline have three men in her mouth. Oswald and two of the other grooms. Them getting to have a feel of her tits before she went down and took their erections in her mouth and with her hand, work them till they came, shooting their seed for her to taste before swallowing.

Like the steady drip, drip, drip of the Chinese water torture, Barbara gave in to agreeing to take a male penis in her mouth. Caroline had said that she should start small and the smallest cock she knew of was Oscar's, the kitchen boy. He was of their age and hadn't reached adulthood yet in that department.

He was dragged into the pantry one afternoon by Caroline and knowing his cock was going to be sucked, it didn't take much dragging. He was surprised to see that it would be Barbara who was going to see to him, that his cock was up and ready before she'd even exposed her breasts to him.

She was embarrassed this first time but it lessened when she saw the way his eyes lit up at seeing the fullness of them, realising that what Caroline had said the year before about the power a woman could exert over a man where sex was involved was correct.

She let Oscar struggle to pull himself out of his trousers and he trembled with delight when he was told that this was the first time that Barbara had ever done this and to be careful not to choke her. Caroline watched over them like a teacher watching her students perform a difficult task.

His erection wasn't that long or thick but rather like a pale slender reed, but it was still as hard as a rock when, with trembling fingers, Barbara took hold of it and felt the hard silkiness of it. She went down onto her knees before him and her breasts did the trembling for her as she opened her mouth and put it over the head of his prick, feeling the heat of the boy as she closed her lips round it.

She could even take the whole length in without it choking her and so she bobbed her head as she had seen Caroline do. The boy, excited at him being the first and having his cock sucked, didn't take long before his hands were holding her head as he mouth fucked her and came. Though still only a boy and having small balls, he still gave out enough to fill her mouth as she held on grimly till he finished moving himself in and out of her. He pulled out to a sucking sound and a dribble of sperm ran down her chin even though she had tried to keep it all inside. 

She looked up, mouth full, with a triumphant smile in her eyes as she looked into those of Caroline who positively beamed back at her.

'Save some for me,' she said as she helped Barbara to her feet and watched as she ran the lot round her mouth before swallowing it. She didn't save much, not having learned that bit yet, but there was enough coating her tongue for Caroline to kiss and suck it to the amazement of Oscar at seeing the two girls kiss in such a passionate way.

He too had learned that he had to stay exposed until ordered otherwise and was again surprised when Caroline herself went down to clean him up. Two of them sucking on his cock, well that was sheer heaven for him but he didn't dare raise his hands to try and hold her head as she sucked out the last remnants from his cock.

'Now that wasn't difficult was it,' Caroline said, making it a statement and not a question, after Oscar had been dismissed from the pantry. 'Here, take some ale to wash it down.'

'No, it wasn't,' she replied after taking a draught. 'But I'm glad he wasn't as big as some of those others I've seen you take.'




The Highwayman



'You'll learn. The trick is to hold the base of the cock so that he can't stick it in too far and yet still have room for his seed,' Caroline said. 'So who shall we pick next for you to have?' she mused.

'I'd rather have you,' Barbara said boldly. 'I'm all wet down there.'

'Good as done,' Caroline laughed and took Barbara's hand and they went across to the hay loft where they climbed up, and in the solitude of the place, stripped naked and took it in turns to go down on each other.

Though they had each other nearly every night, they still would go up into the hay loft of an afternoon and have each other.

            *

It was on one such afternoon when all the workers were out in the fields that they heard the lower barn door open and close. The two girls wriggled through the straw slowly so as not to disturb whoever had come in, the straw scratching at their naked stomachs. They peered over the edge and Barbara stifled a gasp for it was Carlyle and Squeak, both with their trousers off now, kissing each other. They were standing by two bales of straw and as they broke apart, they could see the erections of the two men and Barbara noticed that Carlyle was the bigger of the two. She watched as Squeak laid across the bales and Carlyle hold his cock in one hand and Squeak's hip with the other.

'Is he going to fuck him up the arse?' Barbara whispered, having now lived with Caroline for eighteen months was now speaking like her.

'Of course,' Caroline whispered back. 'We've got two holes, a man's only got one. See, he's bent over the bales ready to take it.'

'Bent over? Oh, I get it now,' she breathed back and watched in amazement as she watched, for the first time, a man push his cock up into the arse of another. 'Well!' she breathed out again.

'You've seen nothing yet,' Caroline whispered, as they watched their tutor being properly reamed by Caroline's brother. They watched him shudder and Caroline whispered that he'd just come inside him, and her brother pulled himself out and wiped the end of his cock on a cloth as Squeak stood up and gave his fucker a kiss. 

Then Carlyle bent himself over the bales and presented his backside to Squeak who promptly stuffed his erection up the backside of Caroline's brother and began to methodically fuck him.

'Does your father know?' Barbara whispered the question in awe.

'Probably. At least it keeps Squeak from paying attention to us in this way.'

'Are you sure? We've got two holes as you said,'

'True, but I'm damn sure I wouldn't suck on him after it's been up my brother's arse,' and they both giggled, hands over their mouths to keep the noise down. They carried on watching and now Barbara could see the body action and know that he was spending himself inside Carlyle. Then watched as his cock was pulled out to be wiped on the same cloth before they both kissed again in an embrace before putting their trousers back on and leaving the barn.

'You see it all here,' said Caroline leaning back and stretching her arms, her breasts going taut at the muscular action. 'Go down on me Barbara dear, I'm feeling horny after watching that.' In a different way it had turned her on too and knew that by doing as Caroline wanted, she would then, in turn go back down on her. So she moved over Caroline's body, kissing the full breasts, licking her way down for the second time this afternoon, till she was between the open legs.

            *

Barbara now noticed the difference at the dinner table in the evenings, that it was only the Earl and Chester who looked at her breasts, while Carlyle didn't appear to notice her at all. Then it appeared to be the same in the classroom with Squeak. Even though he sometimes would look over their shoulders to see what they had written on their slates, didn't linger to look down the tops of their low cut dresses. She remarked on this to Caroline who gave out a snigger.

'I bet that if he saw your bare arse, it would be different.'

'Of that he's got no chance,' sniffed Barbara and they both laughed. 

            *

It was some months later after Caroline and Barbara had rolled in the hay that they watched Chester bring one of the milk maids into the barn and after giving her a slap, went and fucked her, telling her after he had finished to do as she was told next time.

'I told you he was a cretin,' Caroline whispered as they watched the sobbing milk maid pull her skirts down and leave the barn.

            *

Over the next eighteen months, Barbara lost her inhibitions in showing her breasts to one of the grooms to see the prick that was outside of his trousers, rise up to be a solid bar of flesh that she would then take into her mouth and suck and tease till he came in her mouth. Though she only sucked on half as many as Caroline did, it was still, to her, a great accomplishment. 

They also watched Carlyle and Squeak fuck each other quite a few times while they were hidden up in the hayloft. They lost count of the number of maids that Chester went through, some of them most willing to lift their skirts and have him fuck them. Those that didn't want to suck his rampant cock after it had been up inside them would get a hefty clout round the head, and another until they took it in and sucked him clean.

It was in bed at night that both Caroline and Barbara enjoyed their coming together, the latter becoming very good at cunnilingus and could stay down between Caroline's thighs, licking and tonguing her to an orgasm. She too now was getting a thrill at having Caroline bring her to an orgasm, especially when they were doing it to each other at the same time.

            *

It was after their eighteenth birthday that word had gone round the rural area that Belvedere Manor was the home of two marriageable young females, and they started to receive invitations to balls and different functions. 

Richmond would have no truck with balls and such and refused to have any at the Manor, but agreed that they could go to one such ball as long as they took along a chaperone. They had a week from acceptance and their room was in a flurry of dresses being washed and ironed and then rejected. Others had sewing to be done and many altered from their growing up.

The day of the ball arrived and it was much washing and bathing until they were ready and they boarded their closed coach with a big heavy woman from the kitchen as their chaperone.

The coach went through the estate until it came out onto the London to Portsmouth road, and they turned right, heading for where the estate of the ball was to be held, just past Petersfield.

They rattled along this turnpike road for about fifteen minutes when the coach began to sway and lurch as the horses were being pulled up and they heard the words that travellers feared the most.

'Stand and Deliver!'

The coach slithered to a halt, the chaperone, clutching a hand to her massive bosom, eyes wide, cried out.

'Highwaymen! We're all going to be raped!' Caroline still having her wits about her remarked.

'You should have no fear of that, it's young meat like us that they would be after.' They could hear the rattle of horses' bridles and the door of the coach was suddenly wrenched open.

'Out you two,' a gruff voice said, a pistol waving about in the air.

'But there's three of us here,' the chaperone managed to splutter out.

'You can stay inside,' the voice behind the pistol said. 'You two, out!' the pistol waving at both Caroline and Barbara. They clambered out, unassisted as the highwayman stood back as they got out of the coach and landed on the solid earth. Caroline looked round and saw that another man was holding a pistol up towards the driver. The highwayman facing them was of average build and had dark hair beneath his hat. His chin was square and clean shaven and with his cloak, was dressed all in black as was his accomplice. His face couldn't be seen for the mask he wore, but his eyes were blue and they glittered as he looked at the two girls.

'Money, jewellery, baubles whatever, give them over,' he demanded in a gruff voice. Though the manner of speaking was disguised, Caroline, herself being of violent or velvet tongue, was almost certain, of the cadence in his speech, that she thought she knew who the man was behind the mask.

'We have nothing of value about our person sire, except,' and she smiled, almost certain that she knew who it was, 'our mouths.'

'Such a sweet mouth and velvet tongue that belongs to a harlot!' he spat. His accomplice, at hearing Caroline speak, turned and called out.

'No Jack! Let them go!'

'Jack? Black Jack?' Caroline asked.

'At your service m'lady, he replied, sweeping his hat off and giving her a bow. 'But it's not you I fancy for the service, but that pretty wench behind you.'

'No Jack, no!' the accomplice cried.

'Silence!' Jack roared at him. 'I will have the sweet lips of that other maiden caress me,' he said, his tone moderating back down. 'Come forward,' and he beckoned to Barbara.

'He only wants his cock sucked,' Caroline whispered to Barbara, 'so do it! You fucking well should know by now how to do it,' and pushed her forward.

'There my pretty one, one with such lovely breasts,' and with one swift movement of his free hand, had grasped the top of her gown and tore the front completely open down to her waist, her breasts falling out free and swaying with the movement. The dress had been easy to tear considering it was nearly four years old and the stitching not perfect. She shivered at the sudden cold air that assailed them.

'Such lovely orbs,' the highwayman said as he fondled them and with sticking his pistol in to her stomach, bent his head and sucked on each bare nipple in turn. 'Not only have you these two beauties, your lips are just ripe to surround and taste the fruit of my loins.'

'No sir, no!' shouted out his now agitated accomplice.

'Shut the fuck up and this other whore can suck on your cock. You!' and he pointed the pistol at Caroline, 'can go down on your bended knees and thank God that I'll not shoot you now. Go and suck on his cock as this one is going to do to me!' His voice had risen and she knew now exactly who it was behind the mask, but she didn't let on. Let the farce play out she thought as she saw the pistol being brought down onto Barbara's shoulder, forcing her down onto her knees. She saw him fumbling with his trouser front and pull out his erection and shove it into Barbara's mouth. She had learnt to bring her hand up to the base of the cock she was to suck and grasp it firmly to prevent being choked, and she began to give him head with the pistol to the side of hers, Caroline went and knelt before the other highwayman and pulled the cock out of his trousers and began to suck on him.

'Forgive me m'lady,' he said as she sucked on him and she pulled herself off and looked up at his masked face.

'I forgive you, but will your master in the long run do so?' she said as she bent her head and sucked until she took all the sperm out of Oswald's cock as he came.

Caroline had finished and got up and went and stood by the coach door and waited and watched by the glow of its lantern, Barbara finish sucking off Black Jack and was pushed off by him so that she sprawled onto her back, her breasts flashing like beacons in the flickering flames of the lamp.

'Get going you whores,' he cried as he put himself away. 'get yourselves away to Sodom and Gomorrah.'

With that, he turned away, beckoning to the other highway-man and they mounted their horses as Caroline helped Barbara to her feet, the two highwaymen riding off into the night.

'Now that wasn't so bad, was it?' Caroline asked as she helped Barbara hold up the front of her dress as she clambered up into the coach.

'No it wasn't,' she gasped out as the chaperone fluttered about in an almost state of shock as if it had been her who had been put through this ordeal, if it might be called that.

'Did he, did he?' was the question being bombarded at Barbara by the flustered chaperone as Caroline ordered the coachman to return to the Manor. She pushed the freaking out woman to one side. 'No, he didn't. We're going back home.' She said to their chaperone. 'We can't go to a ball with your dress front torn like that Barbara. I'll make the bastard pay for this,' Caroline hissed as the coach lurched as the driver got the horses going and turned round for the journey back home.

Both Caroline and Barbara bewailed the fact that they had been forced to miss their very first ball because of the hold up by the highwaymen though they had to spend the whole journey back to the Manor, comforting and telling their chaperone that they hadn't been raped or molested.

Caroline would have been quite happy to have kicked the woman out of the coach, but helped her down and was grateful that others came to take over. Barbara, with her dress front still being held up by her hand, was told to go straight up to their room and stay there till she appeared. For she made a beeline for the drawing room where she knew the men spent most of their evenings. She slammed her way in to find her father Earl Richmond reading a pamphlet and Carlyle and Bellows were playing chequers.

'Where's Chester?' She demanded of her father.

'Not quite sure,' he replied, putting his paper aside. 'Out with a neighbour friend I believe. Why?'

'No reason,' Caroline replied, now knowing who Black Jack, the infamous Highwayman really was. 'It might just have been handy to have him at hand as we got held up on the Portsmouth road by highwaymen.'

'My God! You haven't been harmed have you?' he asked alarmed, anxiety that she had never seen before on his face as he dropped the pamphlet he'd been reading as he stood up.

'No thank God. Our only casualty is our chaperone. She's below having a fit of the vapours. Don't worry,' seeing for the first time in her life that there was a spark of parental concern on his face. 'We are both virgo intacta so you don't have any worries on that score,' and went and swept out of the room with as much regal possession that she could muster. She went straight up to her rooms to see how Barbara was faring and was surprised to see that she was still wearing the torn dress and that she had been crying.

'Barbara darling,' she cried as she went down on her knees, Barbara being sat on a stool by a small vanity table. 'Why the tears?' she asked as she took her into her arms and hugged her.

'I've never been so humiliated,' she cried, burying her head in Caroline's shoulder. 'If...if it had just been his cock he wanted sucking, well, you've shown me how to cope with that. But to have that man tear my dress for everyone to see my breasts,' and off she went again into a sobbing fit with Caroline shaking her head that she thought it would have been more degrading of having other people watch her taking that massive cock into her mouth than having her breasts exposed.

Caroline continued to stroke her and moved her hand so that the front of the dress came away and she, herself, bent her head and kissed and nibbled on each tit.

'Barbara darling,' she said, lifting her head up off the tit she had been sucking without getting any reaction. 'There was only one other person present and he was more concerned about the possibility of my biting the end of his knob off than seeing what you were doing, so don't worry about it. It's over and I have an idea at how we can get our own back against this Black Jack.'

'Oh Caroline, take me to bed and love me,' she cried, and so, they got themselves undressed and into bed where Caroline went down and gave Barbara the orgasm that released the tension that had built up inside her. Caroline herself didn't insist that Barbara go down on her but held her tight and had an orgasm in her mind of how to pay back that highwayman known as Black Jack.

Though, in the morning when Barbara awoke, Caroline didn't stop her from going under the covers to service her and give her some release, having stayed awake most of the night formulating plans for the future. 

            *

Not wanting to confront her brothers, Caroline had their breakfast brought up to their chamber while she rummaged through her wardrobe to find what she wanted, and later passed a pile of clothes over to a maid, instructing her that all that she held in her arms were to be dyed black. The maid knew by the tone of voice that she shouldn't even dare to ask the question why, but did as she was told and had them dyed.

The following day Caroline and Barbara went down to the stables and Caroline cornered George, another groom that she'd had more than once, in a box and had him drop his trousers. He quickly complied thinking that he was going to have himself sucked off, his cock already rising in expectation when Caroline took it, and his balls in a vice like grip.

'Now George,' she said in a honeyed tone, 'I am going to ask you to do some things for me in the near future that I do not want anybody else to know about. Do you understand those few simple words?' He nodded his head, sweat starting to break out from his forehead, his cock and balls being held as they were. 

'If you do as you are told and do not, I stress, do not tell anyone else, I can promise you that the both of us will suck what's in my hand at least twice a week until he job I have in mind is completed. Now do you understand that?' she asked as she gave him a gentle squeeze.

'Yeees, Lady Caroline. As you say. My lips will be sealed,' he stuttered out.

'Mine won't be, to service you if you do as I tell you. You do like sticking this prick of yours in my mouth, don't you?'

'Yes Lady Caroline,' the sweat now running down his face. 'I will do exactly as you want.'

'Good,' and she released him and bent down and gave him a quick suck before coming back up to face him. 'Now, I want two horses, black, to be saddled and ready every night after nightfall. They are to be kept in the stables and out of sight of everybody else. This is most important, especially out of sight of Oswald and my brothers. Now if you cannot do this, I will tear both your cock and balls clean out of your body, understand?'

Even Barbara shivered at the venomous tone of voice that she'd ever heard come from Caroline's lips before. The groom George, was positively quaking and stuttered that he fully understood and would do exactly as she asked. Caroline was going to tell Barbara to give him a suck, but seeing the state he was in after that fright, his shrivelled penis didn't even merit her mouth, so she turned on her heel and left the stables with Barbara following close behind her.

'What's going on?' Barbara cried out, trying to keep up.

'Just getting the second part in order,' she said shortly, 'and we're about to act on the third part,' she replied, not stopping on her way into the Manor and making her way to the gun room.

It was a room that Barbara had not been in before. It wasn't as large as the other rooms, but all three walls had racks that held all kinds of the latest shot guns and pistols. Caroline selected four of the pistols, wadding, charge and balls, giving half to Barbara to carry as they went up to their bed chamber.

'Will you tell me what's going on?' Barbara demanded once they were alone in their room.

'We are going after Black Jack! That's what!'

'You've got to be joking! He's a highwayman. He's....'

'A sham!' Caroline interrupted. ' I know who Black Jack is and I, no, we are going to make him a laughing stock.'

'I still don't understand,' Barbara said.

'We are going to be highwaymen! We are going to hold up coaches! We are going to get coaches to stop and we are going to suck the cocks of every passenger between London and Portsmouth, that's what! So whenever Black Jack next holds up a coach, they are going to expect to get a blow job from him! God! It's going to drive him wild, I love it!' Caroline cried and went and danced round the room.




The Highwayman



Note

( The people and places in the story are real . The initial meeting with Robert, Vee and Sam really happened at the art exhibit, but the tryst is fantasy. It was just a canvas to try to paint Vee. Sam really does not want to hand over his wife to anybody, but if she ever went there he's going with her.

PS: This is the first story I've ever tried to write. I enjoyed writing it, although challenging on an IPhone. I tried to make it appealing to to a woman's mind, Vee first, but also indulged a little in the male eye to make it attractive to men also

I hope you enjoy reading it. Comments and feedback are welcome.) 

*

The colorful, post card size invitation to the art exhibit and private cocktail party to meet the artist was offered to Mrs. Jensen as a thank you for contributing to the city's historical museum. The artist was one of the Florida Highwaymen, a group of painters known for their landscape paintings. She was locally known as Vee by her close friends and family. The lady, appearing to be in her mid 40s, was by most considered conservative, very attractive and high class. Actually at 56 she was stunning. The only feature of her 5'-6" presence that hinted of her true age was the color of her long, face framing hair. It was primarily silvery platinum, with faint underlights of medium brown left over from her youth. She wore it in a simple yet elegant style at about mid back, slightly above her narrow waist. Mrs. Victoria Jensen extended the invitation to her husband of 37 years as well as to two other couples.

Two weeks later the three couples met in the shady grass parking area of the historical building. As they greeted one another with hugs and hand shakes they noticed but a few automobiles scattered around the well maintained but rustic yard. While checking the invitation to verify the date and location, an attractive woman opened the door from the inside to invite them in. She explained the artist was about to start his presentation on the philosophy and history of his paintings.

As they wove their way through the various display cases of local memorabilia they could see a small gathering of people, maybe about a dozen, begin to circle around a man. The man stood near the table with wine, cheese and crackers along with some fruit.

The artist, striking in appearance, began his introduction. Equally appealing was his voice, smooth and rich. Robert Miller III seemed to enjoy sharing his passion for his work.

Standing a little over 6 feet, his captivating features had everyone's attention. Over the next 1/2 hour Mr. Miller explained the nature of his art and the places he had been to create the paintings. He insisted on actually observing his subject while painting it. He also shared how his work was driven by his personal desire to preserve natural history.

As his talk came to a close he invited anyone to speak with him personally with any questions they might have. He also encouraged the small group to mill around and enjoy the various pieces displayed in the gallery.

After studying most of the art, Sam Jensen, a good looking, tall, angular man, sought out the artist. He introduced himself to Mr.. Miller, and the artist responded "May I call you Sam?"

The two men engaged in conversation about their common experiences exploring various rivers in Florida. While they spoke with each other, Victoria Jensen appeared beside her husband completing the triangle that three form when standing close. Sam caught that moment when Robert first looked at his wife. That slight widening of the eyes while at the same moment a change in stance as when a hunter first spies the trophy he has been looking for.

"Mr. Miller, please meet my wife Victoria. She has been a willing adventurer with me on many river explorations." As the two strangers held out and took each other's hands, the slow handshake took just a bit longer that would be expected. Sam noticed. He also noted while in their brief exchange both seemed to enjoy their introduction. 

"This is Robert Miller." said Sam.

"Please address me as Robert, Mrs. Jensen."

"Thank you," was all she could get out before one of her friends called her over get her opinion on one of the smaller paintings.

As the mingling continued, a three man, old country band quietly played. Some while later, Sam and Victoria met back at the wine table where Sam refilled his wife's glass.

"Pardon me for intruding but I was hoping I might find you two together." Robert Miller's smooth, mellow voice permeated. "I have been thinking that soon you will be leaving and I will regret not having asked you this question. Mrs. Jensen, You are a uniquely attractive woman. With your husband's approval, I would like to ask you to allow me to capture how I see you on canvas."

There was a pause while Sam and Robert tried to read her face.

"Of course I would waive all my fees. It's just that you remind me of someone I once knew I thought I would never see the likes of again. There's something about you, maybe your hair, I'm not sure, that inspires me."

Victoria glanced over at Sam to try and read his face and saw a look that was calm and neutral. In that moment she evaluated the compliment but decided not to answer, fearing her attraction to the artist might be revealed. She simply said, "I thought your specialty was landscape, but thank you," with a mild blush.

Others approached Robert as Victoria slipped off to join the friends she had arrived with.

Sam stayed talking with Robert and bought a signed print of a flooded cypress head he thought he had been to before. 

After another glass of wine the three couples were moving toward their cars with a plan to meet for dinner, when Vee decided to make a restroom visit before leaving. Now as she departed the ladies room, most of the guest had shifted outside. Robert approached her with a smile and told her how much he had enjoyed meeting her.

"Likewise. I really like your work. Thank you for the display," she replied while turning toward the door.

"Mrs. Jensen, Victoria that is, please take my card which has my email address. Possibly you would consider my offer to paint your portrait. If so, please let me know." Victoria took the card, and intentionally broke the gaze from his coffee colored eyes.

"Good night, Mr. Miller." She walked away quickly to join her group outside.

The three couples went on to a local restaurant, then to their respective homes.

That evening while she was putting a few things away and preparing for bed, she came across the card. Her response to seeing the card and the proposition that came with it, was to throw it in the waste can, which she did.

.............

The next morning while Vee was sitting at her makeup dresser, she noticed the card in the top of the basket. It caused her a slight startle as she visualized the man who had given it to her. Something in the background of her thoughts caused her to retrieve the card. She tucked it into the insurance card section if her wallet.

......................

The following Friday evening Sam and Vee were out with one of the same couples (Will & Lynn) for dinner. Discussion of last week's art exhibition developed. Lynn asked Vee what she thought of the artist and his work. Vee's mind instantly replayed the offer he had made and the feeling she had as Robert Miller handed her his business card.

Again something alerted her not to pick up on this topic so she just said she thought he was interesting and enjoyed his art. But she also thought, "What is it about this man that disquiets me?"

........

During the next week Sam was out late one evening, fishing with a couple of his friends.

Vee started her evening finishing up a romance novel she had started a few days earlier. Then she went through the mail. A new insurance card had been sent so she got out her wallet to put it away. There in the little pocket was the business card of The Highwayman, Mr. Robert Miller.

Again her thoughts went back to his smooth voice and confident eyes when he had offered to paint her portrait, and then to his departing request for her to consider his offer. She took the card and began to enter the email address into her laptop. "What am I doing?" She asked herself as she composed a note.

[Mr. Miller

What would it entail to pose for a portrait?

Victoria Jensen.]

With some fear but also a freeing excitement she pressed the send button. Vee went on with her bookkeeping tasks forgetting about the artist until a chime sounded from her computer signaling an incoming message. You have mail!

Vee opened the incoming mail and went tense, seeing that it was a reply from the Highwayman.

["It entails you saying yes and two or three sittings where I can capture you in various light conditions. These could be at times that conveniently fit your calendar. The first could be brief , maybe 30 to 45 minutes just to try a few settings and snap some photos.

I was very glad to hear from you, Mrs. Jensen and I hope you would send me a couple of dates that would work for our initial sitting.

Thank you M'am

Robert Miller"]

She sucked in a breath and felt some foreign excitement. "Oh no. That was quick. Should I respond? What is it about this man that so unnerves me?" She chose to ignore the message. After about another hour of attempted desk work she realized she could not focus. The Highwayman's fascination kept invading her mind. She checked her calendar.

After the send button was finally touched, the note (having been revised several times) simply said, 

["Next Thursday Sept 21 at 3:00 pm is available on my calendar."]

Within 5 minutes the chime announced incoming mail. 

["That fits perfectly with my schedule. I have set up a new studio in town. It's above the health food store, was previously occupied by a small construction contractor. I will look forward to seeing you at 3:00 pm.

PS. Please wear your hair the way you did at the art exhibit.

Robert"]

Upon reading the last email , Victoria got up and paced the room trying to sort out her excitement or discomfort, she wasn't sure which. She had never modeled for a portrait before. Was that it? Or was there something else that stirred her about the Highwayman?

She poured herself a glass of wine and thought about what she would wear next Thursday. Then she purposed to put the subject out of her head.

.....................

Thursday morning arrived. Vee helped Sam with breakfast. Then he received a long sensuous hug and kiss as she saw him off to work for the day. She wrestled with the thought of telling Sam about her appointment that afternoon but settled with no. If the portrait turned out well she would surprise him with it when it was complete. She had no way of knowing at this point how long it would take so better not to mention it at all.

Around noon, Vee showered, dried her hair. She paid particular attention to her makeup as she continued to fuss with herself as to what to wear.

At 3:11 she arrived at the two story old brick building. The varnished wood steps led to a short dimly lit hallway. Suite 202 was the second and last door on the left. Before she knocked she paced back and forth within the hall trying to gather her courage. This was strange. It was out of character for Vee to feel so unsure of herself. A conflict of anticipating seeing the artist with the seemingly first time thought of "Is this a good idea? I don't really know this man. Should I be meeting him alone?" The latter thought won out and she started toward the stairs. The door to suite 202 opened and out stepped the Highwayman, looking comfortable but nicely dressed in light weight camel colored slacks and a black tee shirt. Startled, Victoria dropped her car keys.

"Mrs. Jensen. I'm glad you are here. I was just coming out to see if I could assist you in finding the studio. Let me get those keys for you," as he stooped down right beside her. Her heart raced as she struggled to regain her composure, hoping that Robert had no idea of the state she was in.

"Sorry I'm a little late. I had a conflict to deal with."

"That's ok. Please come into my studio. I'll show you around if you like."

Seeing Robert's calm nature and hearing his soothing voice began to put her at ease. She mostly dismissed her fear and put on her well known confident, elegant self-possession and walked in the door he held open.

A small dark foyer gave way to a naturally well-lit area with five or six easels with paintings in various stages of completion, and more paintings on the walls. Large tall windows lined one wall of the comfortable room. White sheers gracefully hung in pairs for each of the 5 windows.

Mrs. Jensen, may I call you Victoria?"

"Of course, Mr. Miller."

"Robert, please. May I get you a glass of red wine while you look around?"

"That would be nice. Thank you, Robert."

When he returned from the room she had not yet been in, he carried two glasses of wine. She noticed she was much more at ease now. Something about the lighting, the mood of the place, and that calming voice of his reassured her.

After showing her around the main work room and pointing out a few of his choice works he invited her to enter the smaller room. This room was rich and warm, a corner room with smaller windows in both exterior walls, also lined with sheers but with the addition of roll up blinds that were half way closed. A nice large center rug with a medium brown leather loveseat couch on one side and 1920's era chaise placed where the light from the windows gave a warm glow to the dark violet velvet upholstery. Odd, but inviting and comfy looking. An easel stood near the center of the rug beside a tall no back stool.

About 20 nicely framed paintings, mostly portraits, were displayed. One was a beautiful young black woman. Another was of a very dignified looking older black man. Robert noted her gaze at the two large paintings.

"Allow me to introduce my father, Robert Miller II, and my daughter, Rose."

Victoria compared the skin tone and color of both the portraits with that of Robert. Almost exactly the same chocolate/caramel blend.

"They are wonderful, Robert. Rose is beautiful and your father is quite handsome."

"Thank you, Victoria. I very much enjoyed painting them; but now I'm really looking forward to working with one of the most exquisite ladies I have ever met. If you're ready, we can get started."

"All right. What do I do?"

"Well, as you can see, this is my portrait room, where the other is my landscape studio. I selected this vintage chaise especially to pose you on. Why don't you see if it is comfortable to you."

Victoria casually moseyed over and behind the long footed half chair half couch and felt the soft velvet. As she leaned over the couch, the sun that lit the couch caught and highlighted her silvery hair, accentuated even further by the contrast with her black sun dress.

Robert smiled at the scene in front of him. "Victoria, you and I are going to create a timeless work of art, a masterpiece. You are the type of beauty I have been looking for. We will make music together. Settle in, relax and make yourself comfortable. I'll go get my camera."

She indeed was relaxed when Robert returned. He just started taking random photos as he shifted around the room. He asked her to try to forget the camera and just look around. Most of his pictures were taken from 8 to 12 feet but periodically he would lean in within 3 feet to capture some close ups. After a short time of sipping her wine her anxiety of being photographed numerous times faded.

Robert, an experienced professional, was in no hurry. He began to direct her head direction and tilt. He then asked her to put her feet up on the elongated portion of the chaise, lean back into its curved back and put one arm along the back. He snapped another 25 or more digital photos. By the time he'd finished, he had taken at least 150 pics.

"Victoria, you are a natural. You should consider being a professional model. I have all the photos I need to begin to experiment with setting and lighting now.

"Well thank you, Robert, but I really didn't do anything except sit here. I am not sure why you want to take the time to paint me at all."

"Mrs. Jensen, you don't see yourself through the eyes of an artist. You have a glorious beauty about you that has not been hardened with pride or conceit. It is an unusual blend of class, quiet confidence, dignity, and carefree sexy."

With that, she blushed a little, looking at him through several strands of platinum hair. "My, what a compliment," she laughed, trying to lighten the moment a little. 

Robert stepped in close reached out with his right hand, fingers parted like a comb and gently touched his finger tips to the side of her forehead and temple slowly sweeping her hair back away from her face, back to allow it to lay behind her shoulder. The touch was soft and warm, his long dark fingers contrasting her platinum hair.

"Thank you for coming in today, Victoria."

"You can call me Vee, if you'd like."

"Thank you, Vee. He held out his hand to help her up. "I would like that." He then reached around her waist and carefully pulled her in for a short little hug.

She did not encourage or resist.

"Today was mostly to get acquainted, you and I, and to see if you could be comfortable in a studio. I think we will be able to work together quite well. I hope you feel the same?"

"Well, I was a little anxious to begin with. But I enjoyed the tour of your studio. I'm still not understanding what you see in me, but I found myself at ease with being photographed. What is the next step?

"Good. Being honest and free with your expression draws your mature beauty out. I'll go to work to prepare for the next sitting. I'm hoping we can do our next sitting next Thursday at 11:00 am. The late morning light will work very nicely on you. The session will require about 2 hours, during which time I will have lunch catered in. We should be done between 2 and 3 o'clock. Will that work with you, Vee?"

She consulted her phone calendar then responded, "Looks like that will work!"

"Great."

The highwayman escorted Vee through the door to the top of the stairs and watched her descend into the daylight. He focused first on her hair flowing over her copper tan shoulders, then to her slender waist, then to the mesmerizing sway of her perfectly shaped large bottom concealed in the thin black fabric. He could not help but wonder what that would look like exposed!

Vee thought she felt his gaze as she concentrated on not looking back.

..........................

CHAPTER TWO

That afternoon, evening and at unprescribed intervals throughout the week both Victoria and Robert thought about their last meeting.

....................

The next Wednesday afternoon Victoria was alone in her home office working on some real-estate follow up when her thoughts shifted to the next day's appointment at the studio. It suddenly dawned on her she did not ask nor did Robert mention what to wear.

"Maybe I should call? No, maybe email?"

As she pondered, the image of the Highwayman flashed in her mind. She thought of how nice looking he was, medium length tightly curled hair with glints of silver throughout. Strong well proportioned body but not really athletic, swirling dark eyes and high cheek bones. A very well proportioned, symmetrical man with that rich skin, smooth and brown.

She thought, "What in the world am I thinking? Why is my mind going there? Am I interested in a painting, or am I interested the painter? Do I dare to continue to explore that question?" She wondered ..................

"Hmmm?"

Vee snapped herself away from that kind of thinking and quickly banged out the following note.

["Mr. Miller,

I failed to ask you what to wear for our next sitting. Do you have a preference? Also, is tomorrow at 11am still good?




The Highwayman



Vee"]

She hesitated, then hit the send button.

She went on to her work trying to put the appointment out of mind.

.............

Before starting dinner for herself and her husband Sam, she checked her inbox. No mail.

The evening passed.

Sam was tired from a long day and was asleep by 11 pm.

..........

Vee, back in her office, checked her inbox. New mail. There was a message sent at 9:56 from the Highwayman.

["Vee,

I was hoping/thinking you might correspond. The black sun dress you wore last week is perfect. I have studied your photos and set up a scene that I think will capture you brilliantly. I have also set up an alternate scene that contrasts your skin tones with your hair. Maybe if time permits I could work on a pencil sketch.

This would require your shoulders to be fully exposed. If this is something you would like maybe as a gift to your husband, then bring maybe a tube top, modest lingerie or brassiere. I'm looking forward to seeing you tomorrow at 11. Bring a book to occupy your time, if you like.

Robert"] 

Vee was offended!!.........

Or was she?

"Such a bold request. Or was it just professional direction? The thought of posing in a brassiere -----Outrageous! Besides, my breasts are only 34B." The thought of being that exposed to this middle aged...................hmmmmmm"

.....................

By 8:30 the next morning Vee was going through her morning routine, showering, leg and under arm shaving then catching herself carefully trimming around her pubic area. "Hmmmm? Was this my day for that?"

Her drapes did not match her carpet, a perfect dark bush with 5 or 6 curly strands of pure platinum sparkling

through in the lower area just above her womanhood.

She applied her makeup very carefully then perfected her hair.

Nearly ready now, she went into her closet to select a pair of shoes. Unlike last week, she chose red high heels. Right next to the shoe rack was her underwear drawers. She opened the one with the brassieres, snapped up the leopard spot one and stuffed it in her purse. She tried not to think about why she did this. "Maybe just in case? But I'm sure I won't need this!"

..................

At 10 :55 am Victoria arriving in the town parking lot. She locked her car, looked around a bit nervously then realized, "I come here routinely. No one will think I am out of place."

She wondered why she was concerned.

She sucked in her tummy and walked toward the old, light colored brick building with multiple businesses on the ground floor, nice purse in hand.

She really looked good at 129 pounds in that black dress that subtly skimmed her curves and red high heels. Tall,thin, curvey. Graceful, smart looking, mature, dignified, classy, beautiful, elegant, and drop dead SEXY!!

This time without hesitation she knocked on the door to Suite 202. Nearly instantly the door opened and that voice welcomed her.

"Good morning Vee. You really look fantastic!"

Today Robert wore black slacks and a nice button up lime green shirt on the outside. He looked relaxed and very handsome.

"Please come in Vee. I have the set ready for you."

This time he offered her coffee. As they proceeded though to the portrait room he lighty placed his

finger tips on her closest shoulder blade. Once in the room he poured two cups .

"Black?"

"Yes, thank you."

Vee noticed a change to the room. All the same as before except the addition of two antique, full length, large oval swivel mirrors, both facing the chaise. Robert could see that she noticed them.

"I brought those in yesterday evening. They will help me by reflecting the natural light from the windows to illuminate you. Do you have any questions, Vee?'

"No, I don't think so Robert."

"Ok then. Let's get started. I am going to have you sit and lean back in the chaise with your left leg extended and your right leg about half way bent up. Right arm along the arm rest."

She gracefully entered the chaise and followed his direction. The dark violet velvet chaise was nearly twin bed sized with a sloping back or end that curved around one corner then vertically tapered back down to the level area. It looked quite tactile, rich.

Robert walked behind the back and adjusted her right arm. He then leaned over her to place her left arm and hand in her lap. He moved further around and with no hesitation, stooped down and slightly moved both her legs by lifting her ankles. 

Vee felt pampered. Along with the backdrop of his dulcet voice and the subdued scent of his foreign cologne, she relaxed in the room. She was comfortable on the luxurious fabric and the surrounding of the warm room.

"Did you bring a brush or a comb, Vee?"

"Yes, there is a comb in my purse over on the counter."

He walked to the counter, looked in her purse, saw the leopard print top, but said nothing. He just brought the purse to her so she could retrieve the comb that was not visible to him.

Vee blushed when she realized what he had seen and dug in and found her comb.

"No need for embarrassment Vee. I was very much hoping you would bring something like that.

Now may I arrange your hair?"

"That will be fine. Do whatever you want with it. You're the artist. But it's got a mind of it's own sometimes." She handed him the comb.

Robert carefully combed her hair down over her right shoulder, covering her breast and back over her left toward the open side of the chaise. His closeness and soft touch made her heart speed up a notch.

"I'm going to put on some music to work by. Do you have a preference?"

"No, anything is good with me."

Robert went to the CD player, pressed Start.

Nora Jones seeped into the room quietly.

"You may want your book if you brought one. I will probably be working here with my canvas for an hour and a half or so. Then we'll take a break for lunch."

"No, that's ok. I think I'll just relax here and watch you work."

Robert smiled and went to his stool that had a camera sitting on it. "Oh that reminds me that I wanted to get a couple photos of this setting. My brother loaned me this new high end camera. He is a professional videographer. He's now getting into photography and wanted me to try this out."

Robert snapped a few pics of Vee in her prescribed sitting then walked over and put the camera on the counter. He went back to his stool, picked up his brush and began to alternate his focus between Vee and his canvas.

Vee watched him paint. While he focused on the canvas for long periods, she studied him. Her view of him was mostly profile while he painted. He was really an impressive man.

She glanced around and looked closely at each of the people in the paintings. She also looked at herself in both the mirrors. They were placed in a position so that she could see her reflection from two different angles. One of the mirrors stood up high so she could see an angle down to herself. "Not bad," she thought to herself. She liked the way she looked that day. She felt good.

.....

They had little conversation while Robert worked.

.........................

The knock on the door at about 12:30 signaled lunch had arrived. Putting his brush away, Robert assisted Vee to a standing position with an extended hand and a look in the eyes, then went to deal with the delivery.

Vee visited the rest room, freshened up and checked her hair. She returned to the portrait room, where Robert was waiting for her.

"Mrs. Jensen, may I have the pleasure of you joining me for lunch?" His left arm extended in the direction toward the other room, his right arm and hand held in a position that invited her to his side.

She approached him and he slipped his arm around her waist. He guided her by the waist back to the landscape studio.

There was a two top table and two chairs next to one of the tall windows, the soft lighting bathing the table. He pulled out a chair for her.

............

The white cloth covered table held a tall white lit candle, a vase with a single red rose, water and wine glasses, a basket of mixed mini muffins and an ice bucket with a bottle of wine protruding.

There were two white plates, tastefully arranged with pecan crusted chicken, asparagus and new potatoes. There was also a side dish salad on white china. The portions were small. The arrangement together with the polished silver looked exquisite as well as appetizing.

"Is this from a local restaurant?" Vee asked.

"Yes, just around the corner. It's called Lunch on the Town."

"Oh. Yes. Neil and Kip do a great job there. I love their chicken. This really looks good."

The two engaged further in conversation. He was interested in her history, hobbies and travels while she asked questions about his family, his work and the type of music he liked. He told he was married to a wonderful woman who was also an artist. He said he missed her, that she had been in Portland for three weeks.

Over the next 45 minutes their exchange naturally flowed. They found themselves quite comfortable with one another.

............

They finished their lunch along with the wine. Vee had a tad more than Robert.

"Well Vee, are you ready for another session?"

"At your service Sir," she responded. "I'm liking that chaise. It's so cozy, I hope I don't fall asleep in it."

"Actually with the preparations I've gotten done during the week, I've made good progress today. Your photos came out as well as I hoped they would. Mrs. Vee, you are just naturally photogenic. I may only need another 20 or so minutes to finalize the framework for your portrait. I can finish the work later without having to make you suffer another prolonged sitting. I am extremely pleased in the way your image is turning out and can't wait to show you the finished product. Most portrait painters have the ability to make their model look better than they really look. But you, Lady Victoria cannot be completely captured. Your elegant appearance defies definition. It just kind of comes from within. That's one reason why I asked you to model. You're a rare natural, Vee. I do prefer that you not view the painting until it is complete, though."

"When do you think it will be finished Robert?"

"It would normally take me two or three days from this point. But sometimes when I've been inspired, I've been unable to stop and just worked through until it's done. I'm feeling that way about this one. It could be ready as soon as tomorrow afternoon. By the way, did you give any thought to the alternate piece I suggested? I see you brought an interesting top."

Pause......,

"Well, why don't we concentrate on this one for now, then.......maybe later?"

"Do you think your husband would object to his wife posing in a brassiere?"

Pause--------------

"No, I think not. He and I are quite secure in our relationship. We don't seem to have any jealousy. I think your suggestion of a surprise for him would be wonderful, but maybe another time. Sam has even expressed an interest in having a nude painted of me someday, but I can't imagine myself actually going there!"

"Now that would be fun. I'll volunteer for the job!" Robert teased with a grin. "But back to the subject at hand. Ok then. Let's set tomorrow at 2:00 for you to come in and I'll unveil for you this masterpiece completed. And if you have the time and are in the right mood we could do the alternate sketch then. A pencil sketch only takes about an hour.

"Robert, I would love to see the finished portrait, but will just have to see how it goes with the alternate."

"That will be fine. Now please resume your pose. I really want to finish your beautiful eyes." 

Again Vee entered the elongated, oddly inviting piece of furniture, but this time she crawled up from the foot then slowly spun, and backed into the rolled, pleated, curvy back and settled into her position.

The highwayman noticed!

The artist came to her. Again he repositioned her arms, head angle and hair. Only this time with both being mellow from the wine, his touch lingered a little longer. His hands slid the length of her arms to adjust them. Then he came around, crouched down in front of her and lifted her calves to their position. Then he took hold of the ankle of one leg lifted and moved it toward

her causing her knee to bend, his right hand on top of her covered thigh just above the knee.

A further lingering.

He then stood close by her side and with both hands, fingers as combs, lightly touched the sides of her face then spread the silver hair out over her shoulders so that it glinted and glowed in the sunlight.

He bent down, gave her a quick little kiss. His lips touched high on her forehead at that place where her hair parts, where the most luminous area of her shiny silver hair created a vivid contrast with her well-tanned face.

"That is the most beautiful hair, I love it! It smells nice too, Vee."

Vee did not want to acknowledge to him or to herself that she felt aroused ........

She didn't say anything. She could see the image of this handsome black man leaning over her reflected in one of the mirrors, and thought "What a picture!" She felt hot, wondered if her cheeks were flushing, if he noticed the heat or her change in color. 

"Mrs. Jensen, the more I observe you, the more I find how beautiful you truly are. It takes some time to fully take you in," he said softly. He abruptly straightened up, and with a brisk change of voice said, "Now let's finish up."

With mixed relief, Vee matched his business like voice tone, agreeing "Yessir! Back to work!"

............. 

The 20 minutes to finish the work passed quickly. Vee closed her eyes and relaxed, and must have drifted off a little. She sensed a change in Robert's presence, and her eyes flew open. Robert had stepped to the side of the chaise and was looking down over her.

"Mrs. Jensen, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen!" His was voice was smooth and warm, like sun heating a soft leather chair. "I just had to say that, Vee. I hope you understand how truly I mean it."

He reached out his hand to help her up.

Vee flushed again, and accepted his hand.

In one gentle motion, he pulled her up and continued moving her toward him as she came to her feet, pulling her to him in a gentle hug. His eyes sought hers, and finding no resistance, the hug became an embrace with both hands behind her waist, he gathering her in close. As her body came against his, she rose on her toes, closed her eyes and surrendered to the kiss.

Their lips met, his soft and very smooth, hers a match in size, puffy and succulent. He parted his lips slightly to taste her, and as she felt his exploration begin, the tip of her tongue danced to meet his. Her heart raced, she could hear it pounding, almost roaring in her ears.

.....

Suddenly, Vee came to her senses. She sharply pushed away, taking a big audible breath. She stepped quickly past him, heading across the room to collect her purse. He waited to see if she would stop and turn, but she did not. She stuffed her comb back into her purse. Her high heels clicked across the hardwood floor through the doorway into the landscape studio. Robert watched her retreating figure as the late afternoon sunlight glowing in through the studio windows lit her hair. Her quick pace had her hair swinging, her luscious ass swinging the back of her sundress. Drop dead sexy! 

She knew he was watching, and paused slightly as she put her hand on the doorknob. Would he stop her? Robert's rich voice followed her. "That was very nice, Vee. I'll see you tomorrow? I really want you to see how I see you." Although it was framed as a question, the tone was smooth and confident. A quick glance back at him, and she was out the door.

CHAPTER THREE

Mrs. Victoria Jensen made a beeline to her car. Her pulse was escalated, she felt flushed. She tried to think ahead to the next thing on her agenda for the day. As much as she tried, it was no use.

The telltale sign of her arousal had moistened her panties. Sitting in her car, shifting in her seat, it was impossible for her to ignore what had just happened and how she felt. "How in the world could I have allowed that to happen? This is crazy! Can I possibly go back? Can I resist that seductive man? Do I want to?"

Her mind was in a swirl as she pulled out of the parking lot. She tried again to reconstruct her errand running list, but gave up and turned the car in the direction of home. As she drove, the kiss replayed in her mind. Her body continued to respond to the memory of his warm chest against her, his arms firmly around her, in seeming defiance of her mental attempts to discipline her thoughts, attempts that diminished as she made the 12 mile drive to her house. 

....................

Arriving at home, Vee was relieved to see no one was there. She went straight to her bedroom. She was

soaked between her legs, feeling pent up pressure inside making it hard to catch a deep breath, an almost audible hum in her body. She had to find relief! She kicked off those red high heels and stripped her dress off over her head. Without a second thought she fell back sideways across their king sized bed and spread her legs. Soaked panties still in place, she slipped all four fingers of her right hand under the tiny garment. She

could smell her state. Fingers confirmed that her pussy was flooded, the sensitivity of her clitoris beyond her memory.

This was an activity that Victoria Jensen rarely engaged in. Sam was very attentive.

She curled two fingers into herself, and pressed that place between her pointer finger and thumb hard against her clitoris. Her hips moved almost involuntarily in long motions up and down, up and down, increasing in speed. She continued until the combined motion and pressure from her fingers inside, her hand on her clit and her bucking hips built to the point where her hips were completely off the bed and her entire body was tense. She abandoned herself to the release and relief of a full-bodied orgasm.

Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh, face red!! aaaahhhh

Her body relaxed. She closed her eyes. As an almost drunken sleep crept over her, her mind drifted to a sun-warmed violet velvet chaise, comforting and enveloping, yet with an indefinable presence of indistinguishable warning or excitement. 

...............

Sam arrived home at 5:00, and found Vee sleeping .

"How unusual to find her in bed at this time of day," he thought. He carefully peeled back the sheet to kiss her awake on the small of her back, one of his favorite spots. The unmistakable fragrance of his woman's scent, together with the discovery she wore only panties excited him.

"Wow!" he thought, "What's this about?"

Sam really wanted to slip in bed and make love with her but there were two reasons he chose not to. One being he had a commitment to meet three of his friends to go hunting and they were due to arrive any

minute.

He woke her and asked if she was OK.

"I'm fine, just got a little tired."

He said nothing about the state he found her in.

"Remember honey, I'm going hunting tonight. Probably be back around midnight, heading out in a few minutes. Luv ya."

"Be careful baby and have fun. I love you too Sam, with all my heart."

As he left the bedroom he had to adjust his pants to relieve his discomfort.

..........

That evening, her thoughts replayed her time at the studio. The coffee, the setting, seeing herself in the mirrors, watching Robert work, his hands touching her face and hair, the little kiss on the forehead, his voice, the fine lunch, the wine, the rose, the way she felt, his skin, his smell, and that final connection to his lips, and ending with her march across the studio and out the door.

She thought about what it would be like to go further with him?!

"NO, NO." She would not allow herself to think that way. "I'm a happily married woman. What if Sam found out? I wish I could talk to him about it."




The Highwayman



She went to work at her desk for the rest of the evening

.....................

The next morning Sam had to leave early. Somehow their schedules had not allowed them to make love for about two weeks. Vee was missing her husband. They normally had a frequent and extremely good morning sex life. She realized she was lascivious!

The highwayman popped back into her thoughts. "What do I do about today?" She wanted to see the finished portrait, but.......? She knew that if she gave him the slightest opening where it would lead. Could she trust herself to go back to the studio?

She was conflicted between discipline and desire. So curious and attracted to the black man, but not allowing herself permission to ponder such a taboo indulgence. She wondered what Sam would think.

Victoria bathed and dressed.

.................

At 2:15 she knocked on the door of suite 202.

No answer. She knocked again. Still no answer. Disappointed and relieved she turned toward the stairs.

The door to suite 202 opened fast.

"I'm so sorry. I was finishing up a phone call. Come in, Vee. I was setting up an unveiling of my favorite masterpiece at an art show in Portland Oregon for next week. Providing, of course, that I would have your permission."

"Why would you need my permission, Robert?"

"Because my favorite painting is titled Lady Victoria. Would you like to see it?"

He seemed excited.

"I would. That's why I'm here."

"All right. But first, let me open some champagne to celebrate the occasion."

Robert walked to the table where they had lunch the day before. There was an ice bucket with a bottle tilted in it.

He looked so nice in his cream colored slacks with a cinnamon silk shirt, button front and square bottomed, worn on the outside. The combined colors of cream and cinnamon against the background of chocolate caramel skin looked appetizing.

He popped the cork and poured two glasses. Handing Vee a nearly full glass and held his up to hers for a toast.

"To the most interesting woman I have ever met. I sincerely thank you for allowing me to paint your image. You have been a most cooperative model."

He clicked his glass to hers with a warm smile. She returned the smile and the glass click. "Thank you. And to a most professional artist, and a new experience."

"Vee, you make that outfit you're wearing today look world class. I like it with the tie belt."

Vee shifted her stance, smiled at the compliment and took a generous taste of her bubbly.

The dress she wore was a floral print, white background with nearly an equal amount of black, a wrap held together with a wide tie around the waist of the same very light and silky fabric. There was a hint of it being worn braless, and it fit her perfectly, accentuating her little waist and big curvy ass. It lay over her shoulders and back nicely, the wrap forming a low V on her chest but not quite low enough to spell sleazy. Equally elegant and sexy.

Vee tilted her head back to drain the long stem crystal, and said

"My, that is really good champagne! Thank you!"

Robert got the bottle and refilled her glass.

"You're welcome. It was given to me, and I've been saving it for a special occasion. Glad you like it. Careful though, it has an exceptionally high alcohol content."

"Thanks for the warning."

(Yesterday's thought to be more careful flashed through her mind.)

"Vee, I very much enjoyed lunch with you yesterday. Actually I enjoyed everything about yesterday. I'm glad you came back." His smile was genuine and affectionate, his voice smooth and confident.

Vee was caught again, as she'd been on the first day she'd met him, by his dark eyes that seemed to swirl like just-stirred coffee. She was once again struck with how unusually attractive he was: high cheekbones, strong square jaw and chin, dark thick eyebrows, prominent nose, all somehow softened by his easy symmetrical smile. 

Her mind raced to change the subject to neutral territory.

"The lunch yesterday was very nice. Good choice. I think I forgot to thank you, so Thank you, I enjoyed it too, Robert."

"It was my pleasure, and you're welcome. Oh, before I forget I got something for you as a token of my gratitude for posing and allowing me to paint your image."

He took the champagne glass from her hand and handed her a little white box.

Vee opened the box. Inside was a necklace, of pure platinum, with a platinum paint brush about an inch and a half long attached to it.

"Oh my, Robert. That is really very nice. You should not have done that."

"Nonsense. I thought it would go well with your hair, Vee."

"Well it's beautiful. Thank you Robert," as she held it up.

He stepped up close and took it from her. With both hands delicately reaching behind her neck, he fastened it. Robert held the back of her neck and head just for 3 seconds as he quickly touched his lips to the high defined arch of each of her eyebrows.

The soft heat of his lips startled her, but before she could respond or object, he stepped away from her and picked up the champagne bottle. As he quickly refilled her glass and handed it back to her, he asked, "Are you ready, Lady Victoria, to see Lady Victoria?"

She nodded.

"The necklace looks nice on you, Vee."

"Thank you, Robert."

Robert held out his hand to her, and with minor hesitation, she accepted it. His hand was very warm, smooth and solid, and he gripped her firmly. He led her into the portrait room which was set exactly the same as the previous day with the exception of two minor changes. There was now a cloth covering the canvas on the easel and the roller blinds were most of the way down, reducing the light to a cozy dim. She noticed the same Norah Jones CD as yesterday playing softly.

Robert guided her to stand in front of the veiled painting that had a small light aimed at it. It looked large, about two feet tall and three feet wide. Vee took another couple of swallows and emptied her third glass. It was the best champagne she had ever tasted.

Robert took the glass from her hand while looking over her face, walked away and set the glass on the counter.

Returning to her, he stepped close, very close, standing right behind her. He lightly put his finger tips on her shoulders. She could faintly smell his scent.

"Are you ready for this, Lady Victoria?"

"Ready as I'll ever be."

He reached out over her shoulder leaning into her and removed the cloth.

Vee literally gasped ~~~~~~

She was speechless for at least 15 seconds

"WOW!" She said in a louder voice than intended. She noticed the champagne seemed to be having a liberating effect on her.

"That is awesome." She studied the large painting

"I love it! It's incredible. I wish I really looked like that!"

The painting was alive, the amazing woman almost spoke to you. Her eyes seemed to invite you to come closer, the light radiated around her glowing hair, the skin of her face and shoulders tempted your touch. Vee was astonished with how Robert had made her look. 

"You do look like that Victoria, only better. No painting could really capture you. You're beautiful, yes, but so much of what you're thinking shows on your face, trying to capture that mixture of sexy and reserved is like trying to put lightning in a bottle. That combination completely tantalized and inspired me, but I think I nearly caught it. I was hoping you would like it."

Still standing close behind her, Robert slid his hands under her hair and lightly caressed her shoulders and lower neck.

His whispery smooth seductive voice, his soft touch on her shoulders, the background music, the champagne, the erotic room, the painting, the memory of yesterday, his closeness, her attraction to him, the compliments, the necklace, his scent, the two weeks without, his three week pursuit of her all converged. She was intoxicated.

Those soft, warm artist's fingers glided up her neck under her platinum hair to her hairline behind her head.

Vee leaned her head forward letting her hair fall down each side of her face. Robert fingered her hair forward exposing the back of her neck; his fingers stroked the back of her neck just in the hair line. His body eased forward, touching hers. She felt his warmth, a growing firmness pressing in at the top of her pronounced bottom. As he leaned to kiss the back of her neck she slightly, almost reflexively, pushed up and back into him. A barely audible breath escaped her mouth.

The highwayman whispered, "Mrs. Jensen, this is possibly our last meeting together. I propose we relax and enjoy it. You are truly an intoxicating woman. I have wanted you since the moment we met."

His hands now barely touching her shoulders suggested a turn.

Her mind LOST the contest with her body, and Mrs. Victoria Jensen

TURNED AROUND

.......................

CHAPTER FOUR

Mrs. Victoria Jensen turned around.

Wrapping her arms around Robert's slim waist, she gingerly pushed against him. Her hands went up to join behind his neck, she lifted up on her toes even higher than her shiny black high heels would permit alone.

His left hand caressed the back of her neck, his other hand found the small of her back, pulling her more firmly into him.

While Robert had suspected it when he complimented her dress earlier, it was now obvious that Vee wore no bra, her pointy nipples pressed into his chest.

Eyes closed, Vee's head tilted back. Robert looked down over her closed eyes, framed by high, long arching, dark eyebrows. He admired the tiny lines radiating from the corners of her eyes and lightly across high cheekbones that somehow, instead of revealing age, suggested self-assured dignity, a mature allure. His gaze traveled to her lips - generous, soft, lush, sumptuous, the bottom one unusually pronounced. She had those very rare attributes that time had continued to age into utter perfection, and at this moment with a half faint smile half aaahhhh look on her face, she looked like she felt perfect.

His artist's eye was caught by their reflection in one of the mirrors he'd placed in the room to enhance light for the painting. He saw the two of them in profile: he, taller, bigger, darker, looking down. Their contrast in color and size so intriguing, so striking. His eyes took in the silhouette of Vee's tilted up face, her distinctive long feminine nose flowing into her lovely curved forehead. Her spectacular silver hair flowed further away from her head and far down her back, luminous in the studio's filtered light. The outline of her body as it pressed against him seemed a contradiction, somehow looking tall and lean yet curvaceous and voluptuous at the same time. Her shapely calves stretched into long legs that transitioned into her ass in a way that can only be described as classic perfection, then curving and tapering into narrow waist just above where his hand stretched across the small of her back. 

He closed his eyes as their lips found each other. Touching together softly for just a moment, then quickly pressing a little harder, then opening for more intimate, passionate exploration. Vee felt Robert's hot lips continue their exploration down the side of her neck. She leaned back to allow him to kiss along her collarbone to her throat, at the same time as his hand on her lower back pulled her hips harder against him. Her hips responded almost involuntarily with a slow rotation into him, and she exhaled a low sigh that blended with the soft music. 

Vee's hands moved from Robert's waist to the top button of his shirt as his lips continued along her collarbone, and then returned to her throat, kissing where the platinum paintbrush necklace rested. She slowly but purposefully moved down his chest, working one button open after another. Just as she reached the last button of his cinnamon silk shirt, Robert relaxed the pressure against her back to allow her to part his shirt by sliding her hands around the bare skin of his waist. He slid his hand from the back of her neck down her back to her waist, and his deft fingers found and loosened the tie that held her dress together . Her dress fell open, exposing Vee's breasts. Robert paused his lips' exploration to admire the softness he'd revealed: smallish but perfectly shaped, defiant of her age. Nipples high, slightly pink tinged tan, tight and standing out at attention. 

She pressed her breasts into his chocolate brown, hairless lower chest, then gently swept her nipples from side to side feeling them further harden against his smooth hot skin. She glided her hands up his back from his waist, enjoying the surprising firmness her hands were discovering as she found somewhat coarse, tightly curled hair on his well-developed upper chest. Her hands continued their survey up to Robert's square shoulders, where she pushed his shirt up and off, letting it drop to the floor. He responded with a low, audible exhale, almost a groan, and returned his hands to her hips, then boldly around to her ass cheeks, and captured her hard against him. She returned the embrace with equal intensity, pulling him to her with her hands on his upper back. Vee didn't know if her mouth found his or if his found hers, but the penetrating kiss left no doubt to either of them what would follow. 

As one, they moved the several steps to the chaise behind her, their lips almost fiercely connected. When the back of her calves touched the cushion, he slowly lowered her down onto the violet fabric. Robert slowly separated from her, their lips being last to break contact. She leaned into the furniture's sloping back, eyes closed, abandoned to the pleasure of the moment, her wrap dress completely unwrapped. Robert stood over her for a second, his eyes devouring her. She felt his eyes on her body. Then hands on her waist. Then lips so full and warm, kissing along the lower edge of her rib cage. The gentle kisses descended slowly to around her navel where her skin is so very soft and smooth. The 56 year old ladies' slight tummy could not be improved. Another one of her sexy attributes.

His hands roamed.............

Vee unconsciously began to open her legs just a half inch at a time. She slightly pushed her pelvis up.

The tiny garment that covered her sex came into Robert's view. The black thong was just 3 cords with a small triangle of woven artwork that from up close was like woven net. A few hairs curled through the netting, one silver.

His eyes looked intently into the private area of this gorgeous woman then continued to kiss lower. As he got to the edge of the covering, he slid his hands down past the thong to her inner thighs. So smooth, soft and luxurious.

Vee spread wider as she picked up her knees a bit. She was fully aware of exposing herself to this black man and relished the amazing feeling of just letting it happen. She fully abandoned herself to the delicious lust driving her. She felt like a pampered, elegant, slut.

Robert heard her erratic breaths, breathed in her now pungent scent. His hands and mouth converged toward the triangle. His fingers shifted the triangle garment up and off to one side. The center cord now just appeared from somewhere between her shapely pillowy cheeks then followed up along the sideline of her fur. Her pussy now completely exposed, perfect, S shaped lips partially parted, clear thin honey shines between them and a trickle runs down to where the cord disappeared. It glistened.

Vee lost all awareness of anything else. Her inflamed pussy became her only receptor.

The highwayman moved his body down kneeling on the floor.

She spread her legs further, high heeled feet digging into the velvet fabric of the chaise to lift herself toward him. Her pelvis danced a slow circular rotation. So so beautiful. A low mature mmmmhhhh sound emanated from her nose as she split two fingers and slid them down beside her clit in the moist fur. 

Robert pulled back his head just enough to focus on this marvelous display. The artist had seduced a number of white women over the years, but Vee, in this setting, was the most compelling scene he had ever seen. Simply gorgeous, she is

Amazing. Drop dead sexy.

A metallic sound caused her to briefly open her eyes. His belt buckle clinked. A glance in the mirror at the moment he dropped his pants and underwear. O M G, can that be!!! She re closed her eyes and pushed her mound up. One of her shoes dropped off and landed on the carpet.

As much as he wanted to, he did not just dive in.

She felt smooth fingers trace higher up her inner legs where they came to explore along the subtle crease where her buns meet the backs and inner area of her legs. Then they lightly played higher along the side of her sparse curled hairs on the opposite side of the scrunched up, damp thong. She raised her ass even higher, kicked the other shoe off, and it tumbled off the chaise to the rug.

He looked at the cord running along the side of her flower then down to where it crossed over and only slightly obscured her perfect rose bud. His face came in close as he inhaled her essence.

Vee found herself fully liberated from social taboo and personal restraint. She relished the surrender of her long term secret fantasy to share herself as an exhibitionist. It intensified her desire; she wanted to be taken by this man however he wanted. 

He bows in closer, his long fingers nudging hers higher and out of the way. He parted her perfect lips. . . . .

She felt his hot breath there as the dance of her womanhood kept its tempo but increased in range.

Would he?

Suddenly a warmth, a light pressure, an invasion, licking, kissing, a gentle devouring, drinking her in.

She immodestly bucked, grinding her pelvic bone against his mouth and tongue. He slowly slipped his hands up her sides where the smooth perfectly manicured artist fingers found then enveloped her titties.

Her nectar flowed as he indulged in her offering. The taste, the aroma, the feel of her labia folded around his tongue, the sound of wetness combined with the music of her moans.

Mmmmmm. Mnnnnmnn

The classy woman unashamedly gave herself over to him. Vee spread wider. The balls of her feet now supported her, hips rotating her ass high above the chaise, knees bent tight. 

He slid his hands back down, around and under to support her soft ass cheeks, a thumb holding the thong off to one side. His tongue penetrated her opening several times then worked its way up to lightly flick her clit.

She wrapped her hands around the back of his head, pulling him in, grinding and rotating against him. She bucked, and pulled him into her harder until she was at the brink. She felt his lips focus in on her clit, and suck, then flick, suck, flick, suck over and over. Her legs tightened and spread, she lifted higher and higher.

Her face was ablaze, drawn in complete pleasure as her climax approached. He sneaked his tongue down penetrated her twice then lower to flick and push against her private tightly closed star while he wagged the tip of his nose strongly across her clit.

That did it, she went over the edge.

Uuuuuuuuugggggggggggggggggg

He was in complete bliss, pleasing her was his greatest reward.

Aaaahhhhhhhhhhhh

She was rigid as she flowed from the core. The climax went on, as his eyes focused on her ravishing face.

Mmhh. Mmhh mmhh oohhh oohhhhhhhhhhh

(astonishingly beautiful )

Mrs. Jensen's legs clamped strongly around his head.

Ohh. Ohh. Ohh. Ohh Ahh. Ahh. Ahh Ahh

INTENSITY

Her legs stiffened , straightened and closed, squeezing the invader away. She could take no more. Vee rolled to her side, panting & gasping

Haaaa. Haaaa. Haaaa

............,..,.

Vee finally started to come down. Her breathing began to return to normal and she started to relax. The open dress draped off her shoulders back behind her to lay on the chaise. Robert backed off a little while staying close and marveled at her profile while she recovered. Flowing hair, brown shoulders, long torso, breasts only slightly drooping toward the velvet, pretty nipples. Small waist with an amazing slope out then curve back around her voluptuous rear end to the long shapely legs. Vee's naked profile is simply.




The Highwayman



English Countryside, 1804

Rose loved the summer months when it was warm and the flowers bloomed in full. It was her first summer as a grown woman, now eighteen and she was allowed to attended local parties and balls. It was her season! Her mother and father were often busy with her younger sisters to notice her. She would ride all day in the countryside without them worrying for her. 

The cook was fixing her some afternoon tea and sandwiches when she heard shouting and cries. Cook dashed away leaving Rose alone. Concerned, Rose looked out the window. She saw her father in rage as a man in black rode away with a sack full. Had he stolen items? The man shot his pistol up in the air.

Cook return looking dim. "Blasted highway men. Took some of your mother's fine silver spoons and candle holders."

Rose was shocked. "A highway man"? She had heard many stories about them.

"Aye, nothing but common thieves." Cook muttered.

Rose finished her tea in silence, thinking about that highwayman. Maybe she should see why he kept coming back and stealing from them. After all, she was now a lady and should help protect her family. Rose headed to the stables and fetched her horse while watching her father and mother yell at the footman. She rode off in a hurry as she heard her father call her name. 

The dirt road was silent. Ravens flew in the sky above. She followed the newest tracks down a few miles and then stopped as the ended to a forest trail. 

Her horse was getting spooked. Rose calmed her horse and decided to follow the new path. The forest was silent and lushly green. It was very pretty. She heard another horse ahead and stilled. Listening she felt she was being watched now. Her heart pounded. She turned her horse around and began to ride off when another rider pulled out in her path. He was all in black, and his hat shadowed his face. He pointed a pistol at her.

Who are you"? He asked her.

She did not know what to do. "I, I was curious. I mean you no harm, sir."

His lips curled into a grin. "Curious"?

"You are a highway man."

"Ah, yes, I am. I live on riches the rich can spare."

She felt tension in his voice. "Please let me go."

"I know who you are, miss. You are daughter to Lord Aston." He said and lowered the gun.

"Yes, I am Rose Aston." She said.

He took a good look at her and thought she was a lovely little thing. Copper red hair and deep brown eyes. And the lushest mouth he had seen and wanted it on his body. "If you go, you will not say a word we have met." He warned her.

Rose swallowed and nodded. "As you wish, sir."

He chuckled. "Off with you then."

She was let pass him and looking back at him just once she saw his handsome face was no longer shadowed. She smiled softy and rode off.

Griffin Mallory sat in his small worn down cabin deep in the forest as the fireplace crackled. The night was rainy and his cock had been hard ever since he had seen Miss Rose Aston today. He groaned and took a drink of brandy. She was a pretty little thing he wanted under him in his bed. 

Griffin rarely seduced well-bred ladies. Rather he went for pretty tavern wenches and farm maids. But this one... she got under his skin. Maybe she needed to know what it was to be loved by a real man. No doubt she was to be married to some wealthy arse. And he wanted to be the man to take her first. After all, she could help him retake what was once his. 

Smiling, Griffin finished his brandy and stood to put on his jacket and hat.

Rose couldn't sleep well. Her mind kept going back to seeing the highway man's face, that smile and those sinful lips. She sighed and lit the candle, maybe reading would help. She gasped when she saw him standing by her window.

Going to cry out, he held the pistol at her, making her silent.

"Silent or I shoot." He said 

Rose nodded. "Why are you here"? She whispered.

"I wanted something."

"What"?

He removed his hat and tossed it to the floor. "You."

Rose felt her belly tremble. "Me"?

He took a step towards her, still holding the gun at her. "Undress."

"No"! She gasped.

"Yes, I take what I want, Rose." He smiled.

"I don't even know you or your name". She said. "I cannot do this."

"Oh yes you can and you will." He said. "My name is Griffin."

He came to her and she smelled the rain on him. His eyes were very blue and features were very handsome. 

"Please, don't hurt me." Rose whispered.

"Never," He said back and his lips were on hers for a demanding kiss. She gasped and struggled to follow. Griffin delighted at how new and untouched she was. His hand found her breast and kneaded it softly making her breath jump. 

Rose let herself feel his hand on her. She liked it. "What are you doing"?

"Making you want me."

Biting her lip, Rose felt his other hand cup her bottom and pull her against him for more kisses. She couldn't think while he kissed her like this. All her life she wanted to know romance and passion and now she had found it. She gasped against his mouth at the feel of his erection. 

Griffin broke the kiss and looked at her, his eyes darkened. "Take your nightgown off."

Swallowing hard she nodded and with shaking hands and stood before this dark stranger naked. His eyes scanned over her.

"Lay on the bed, hands above your head and legs spread."

She felt heat rush to her pussy. Her clit began to pulse. She her did as he told her, laying her hands near her head and spread her legs. 

"A very tempting sight you make, Rose." He said with a sly smile. He took off his cloak and shirt and tossed them aside. She gasped at his well -toned body. She had never seen such a fit man. She wanted to press her legs together at the sudden heat she felt in her vagina. 

Stepping to the end of the bed he pulled her to the edge and caressed her legs and belly. She closed her eyes and bit her lip from crying out. Then his fingers found her wetness and he began to stroke. 

"Oh, Griffin..." She breathed. 

"You belong to me now. I take what I want. And I want you." He said gruffly and his thumb found her clit and he rubbed making her arch. Griffin groaned at how wet she was. He pushed a finger in and felt how tight she was. It would pain her to take him fully. "Does this pain you, Rose"?

"It is tight." 

"Aye, you are. It will be hard at first."

She moaned when he entered a second finger in. Then she felt his mouth on her and she cried out. Watching his dark head between her legs was sending her over the edge. She moved with his mouth, writhing in pleasure. 

Griffin loved how sweet she tasted. He wanted all off her. He reached up and cupped her breasts as he sucked on her erect clit. She trembled and whimpered as she came. 

After she lay panting, and he stripped his pants and shoes off. Then he climbed over her and his eyes met hers. Those deep brown eyes were dazed with bliss. It made his cock harden even more. He wanted her now. He thrust hard and deep in her and she cried out in pain.

"Ah it burns." Her eyes were tearing up as she struggled. He felt so big and thick she thought she would break.

"Easy, you must relax your body." He told her and kissed her. 

She melted under his kiss. The pain lessened and he began to move. She felt pleasure deep in her begin to form. He moved deeper and faster and she was panting as she followed and moved with him. He circled his hips and she came again, he followed and came deep inside her.

"Bloody hell that was good." He said, breathing hard.

She sighed softly and winced as he pulled out. She was sore. 

"Taking your maidenhead will get me my title back." Griffin stood and cleaned himself up and then her with a white cloth. Her blood smeared it brightly.

"You planned this"? She hissed, sitting up.

"Oh yes, Rose. You were the perfect way to secure my lands back."

She wanted to scream and cry. "You bastard"! 

"No, your father is the bastard. He had my father killed and then took hold of his land, casting me out. I was a boy of nine."

Rose did not know what to say. Was this the truth? She knew her father had made enemies through the years, but this? 

"I have made it through by stealing food and clothing. It was the only way." He said softly with regret. He went to get dressed.

"Wait, don't go. Please." Rose pleaded. "Stay with me and tell me about what happened."

"You believe me"?

"I need to hear more. I do know my father has done some wrongs in the past. And I am curious."

He nodded. "I will wed you when these lands are mine again."

Rose didn't know what to say or do. She got in her bed and patted the sheets beside her for him. He got in next to her and lay down. 

"It is a long story..."



The Highwayman



Lady Pamela Southman, eighteen and still unwed. By choice, as she did not lack for suitors. She wouldn't describe herself as wilful, but she was accustomed to getting her own way. This last explained why she was out riding, unaccompanied. Atop Billy, her black stallion, she was confident she could outride anyone.

Perhaps she would have, if she'd actually been mounted when he appeared. Unfortunately, she dismounted to sit for a while, and when she turned on hearing a noise he was sitting there, riding a stallion every bit as fine as Billy. Black seemed to be the colour of his choice, as his clothes and his horse were that deep colour. 

This didn't dismay Lady Pamela as much as the fact that his mask and gun were also black.

"I know," he said. "I look a little flamboyant and theatrical like this, and to compound the offence they call me Mr. Black. However, the gun works, so it might be advisable for you not to issue any insults but to just continue sitting there while you fish out your valuables and lay them out."

Pamela gave him a cold look. Do you realise who I am," she asked, making no move to start fishing out any valuables.

"Let me see," came the considered reply. "I'm on the outskirts of the Southman estate. I come across a great Lady riding an excellent black stallion. Lady Pamela Southman is known to ride in this area on an excellent black stallion. I would have to take a wild guess and say you're probably her. You, milady, can call me Blackie. Your valuables, please." 

Pamela continued to try to stare him down but realised, to her irritation, that he was completely unaffected by who she was.

"You're out of luck," she finally told Mr. Black. "I brought no valuables with me. Why would I, when I'm just riding around the estate. Billy is no use to you, as he is too well known. Try to steal him and you'd be found very quickly. And hung," she added with a smile.

"I'll concede that I'm better off without your Billy, but Pegasus here is all the horse I need anyway. As to no valuables, I'd say those pearls you're wearing around your pretty little neck are worth a nice sum, and pearls are always sellable. So why don't you stop stalling and hand them over."

Pamela had forgotten about the pearls. Her hand now snapped defensively to her throat in protest.

"No," she cried urgently. "You can't. They were the last present I had from my Mother. You can't have them."

"Milady, all I have to do is hit you on the head with my little gun and then take the pearls off you while you sleep," Mr. Black pointed out. "Now be a good girl and take them off."

Pamela was on her feet now, backing slowly away.

"I won't," she said, temper and desperation evident in her voice. "My mother gave them to me. You're not having them."

Mr. Black considered the situation. Damned unreasonable woman. He had the gun, she should do as she's told. He couldn't really shoot her or pistol whip her. The subsequent furore would probably mean he'd have to emigrate. Fast. So if he couldn't get the pearls.....

"I'll do you a deal," he said. "I'll explain why you should give me the pearls, and if you think my arguments are compelling enough you can just undo the pearls and give them to me and I'll leave. I'll leave my gun in my saddlebag and I'll promise not to try to touch the pearls while I make my argument. Deal?"

Pamela hesitated as he dismounted and dropped his gun into his saddle bag. Running was useless as he'd catch her easily enough, and he was between her and Billy. It wasn't as though she had much choice.

"Deal," she said reluctantly.

"Then why don't we move over here out of the hot sun?" Mr. Black suggested. He shepherded Pamela under the trees to the side of the clearing.

"I see someone had thoughtfully left a nice roll of hay here," Mr. Black observed. "Just the thing for you to lean on while I explain why I should have the pearls."

Pamela looked at the roll of hay, wondering why she would want to lean on it, then gave a gasp as she was suddenly propelled to lean across it face down. She struggled to stand upright again, only to find Mr. Black holding her firmly in place.

"Now remember," he said, "just undo the pearls when you're ready."

Blackie reached down and started drawing her riding dress up, little by little. 

"What does he think he's doing?" fumed Pamela, feeling the dress moving slowly up, exposing her legs. She tried again to stand up, but was held relentlessly in position.

Feeling the dress creeping higher and higher, Pamela suddenly realised that her bottom would soon be on display. She froze, mortified that he would do this to her. She could feel her face burning as she realised he meant to deliberately embarrass her by exposing her body.

Although the time seemed to crawl for Pamela as her dress was slowly lifted, it didn't really take long before it was tucked neatly around her waist, leaving her half naked.

Pamela didn't move. What was he going to do now? Beat her until she submitted? She lay there, quivering with a slight trepidation, but determined to keep her pearls. 

Blackie admired the female form now exposed before him. He wondered how far he'd have to go before she conceded and gave him the pearls. It would be fun finding out. His hand came down and caressed Pamela's bottom.

Pamela jumped in shock. A smack she'd expected, might even have welcomed as it gave her something to fight, but a caress? She felt Blackie's hand continue to move upon her bottom, gently rubbing it.

Blackie grinned to himself at her initial jump and subsequent freezing. His hand continued to wander around her bottom for a while, and then dipped down and slipped between her thighs, touching forbidden places.

This time Pamela really jumped, giving a sharp squeal of outrage and trying to stand. Unable to escape his imprisoning hand she ordered him to stop touching her.

"Of course," came the reply. "Just hand over the pearls and I'm out of here."

Pamela was adamant on that score. She would not lose her mother's pearls to this oaf. Let him touch her. See if she cared.

The touching continued, getting more and more personal, playing havoc with her senses, making her want to scream and shout at him. Just how much more of this could he do?

Blackie stepped up the pressure, parting Pamela's lips and inserting his fingers into her slit, laughing aloud at her scream of fury. He found her warm and wet inside, making it easy for him to slide his fingers around inside her. What would happen he wondered, if he touched her there.

Pamela gave a shriek of fright as Blackie's fingers touched something within her that made her almost convulse with shock. Her attitude was not improved by hearing him laugh and then touching her there again.

"Pearls?" came the mocking request, to be answered with a firm "Go to hell!"

Blackie sighed. It looked like he was going to have to miss out on the pearls, because in a few minutes it wouldn't matter if she surrendered. It would be too late for him to stop.

"Last choice," Pamela heard, but she ignored it. After what he'd been doing, what else could he do?

Feeling what Pamela just knew was that monster's cock pressing against her tender flesh, she suddenly realised just what else he could do. Oddly enough, despite the preliminaries and the molestation of her body, the thought of what it was all leading to never crossed her mind.

Pamela gave a cry of fury and tried to twist away from Blackie, but was too late. Seconds that might have been years too late as Blackie effortlessly drove himself deep into her.

Pamela shuddered as all those little sensations that had been building within her coalesced into a single burning need that drove her to meet Blackie as he took her. Too late, she realised. She couldn't take the pearls off now if she wanted to. All she could do was try to hang on while she was being thoroughly ravished, glorying in the domination.

Blackie hammered relentlessly home. If she wanted the pearls that badly, she could keep them, but right now he wanted her far more than he wanted the pearls. 

Taking his time, Blackie ravished the helpless body under him, feeling it responding to his mastery and happily yielding to him. He may not have the pearls but he'd have an experience to remember and so would Pamela. Every time she put the pearls on in future she'd remember him taking her while she leant helplessly over a bale of hay, subject to his wishes.

Feeling his own climax coming Blackie considered. Should he hold until Pamela came, or just help her along a little? Realising the futility of trying to hold back his own climax, Blackie reached round to where he was joined to Pamela. Sliding a finger into her he flicked her clitoris, and a second time.

The extra sensation was all that was required to send Pamela over the edge and she screamed as her orgasm took control of her. And screamed again, in fury this time, as she realised that Blackie was also coming and flooding her with his seed. If he got her pregnant, she'd kill him.

Blackie eventually stepped back from his reluctant playmate. 

"It seems that I'm not persuasive enough and you get to keep your pearls," he mourned. "Before I leave, take of your dress."

"What? Why?" demanded an infuriated Lady Pamela.

"Because if I take it off, I'd probably tear it and then you'd have a lot of explaining to do."

Baffled, Lady Pamela took off the dress and stood there, nude but proud.

Mr. Black smiled. "I really wanted to see what you looked like wearing just the pearls," he taunted her. "Enjoy them."

In moments he was on his horse, leaving a furious Pamela trying to dress herself and swearing in a way most unfitting for a Lady of the Realm.



The Highwayman of Holloway Heath



Author's Note: This story has no fixed geographical or historical setting and is wholly fantasy. (Also, guns are not toys.)

*****

Highwaymen of notoriety have traditionally earned their fearsome reputations by way of cutthroat murder, daring escape and insatiable greed. Not so for the highwayman of Holloway Heath.

His name was Thom Turner. Before crime, he had been nobody, but now he revelled in his infamy; his deeds increasing in their complexity and brazenness with every venture. He was a clever and commanding man, but not a good one. 

I never expected to meet him. Even knowing that the road that I travelled was on his patch. Even knowing the attractive extent of my family's means. When I did? Well, it is to my great shame that I must confess to being utterly thrilled.

It was a hot day, too hot for travel had we not been so pressed for time. I was to attend a social function at royalty's request. Who keeps a King waiting? 

My clothes stuck to my skin, which was blushing in the heat and beaded with moisture. I wore no heavy dress, and had loosened the ribbons of my corset and kicked off my shoes and stockings. I was able to indulge in such flimsy attire as I was alone in my carriage. My servants and guests all travelled separately as I was quite wearing of company and conversation. I fanned myself languidly as the parched countryside rattled by the window. 

The first that I knew of the robbery was a pealing gunshot in the distance. The horse started. My driver called out: was I alright? Then: I can't see the other carriages in our party. Then: Dear God!

Without giving a moment of sensible thought to the action, I clicked open the carriage door and put a bare foot on the step to exit. I was met with the barrel of a pistol pointed straight between my eyes. I froze. 

My heart racing, I tracked everything in the scene as if time had stopped. The horse had been cut loose. The driver lay slumped unconscious on the top deck of the cab. 

Thom Turner was grinning smugly at me as he kept the silver gun level to my face. He was stunningly handsome. This fact alarmed be more than the pistol. Dark eyes smouldering with fire behind his thin back mask- in this moment of knowing that I was going to die - the embers of his eyes delighted in how alive he was. 

"Stand and deliver. Your money or your life." He had a low, certain voice, and said the line with a note of amusement, as if the pantomime of his profession still entertained him. His lips: my eyes traced them as I whispered...

"All of my money is in the other two carriages."

He laughed cruelly, then playfully. He grasped my upper arm in a leather gloved-hand and held the cold metal of his gun against my hot cheek. His smile was wolfish.

"What will you give me then?"

Arousal came to me so naturally that I am ashamed of myself. His words caused my pulse to race and a ripple of wanton heat to flicker through me.

"A Lady of the Manor," he sneered, "Dressed like a desperate whore." He hooked the barrel of the gun through the already loosened laces of my undergarment, the cool metal slipping betwixt my breasts. The corset did not fall away completely, but my ample breasts were now wholly exposed to the sunlight. The pink buds of my nipples pointed. He ran the tip of his gun over each of them.

"A whore. I know what to do with whores," he spat, "Get on your knees." I inched my wide hips out of the door of the carriage and knelt in the dirt of the road. 

"This is what's going to happen 'M'lady'. You are going to give me everything I want and do everything I say. You are not going to resist, struggle or try to call for help. If you do, I will kill you. This is how you pay for your life."

I hated him for not understanding. For not seeing the desire and will in me. He could have just asked. I would have been willing. I wanted to be seduced not forced. With the slightest invitation I would have sucked his length for hours, or screamed like a banshee on all fours. He was right. I am a whore. 

"Understood?" That slick demonic smile. Those burning eyes. I gave a curt nod in reply. 

"Lay back," he gestured to the ground with his pistol and I did so. For a moment he remained standing, amused and pleased with my compliance and the sight of a noble lady disheveled and lain half-nude in the dust. He stood over me, his legs apart and one foot either side of my hips, then he bent his knees so that he was crouched over me on the balls of his feet. He brought his face nearer to mine. I yearned in spite of myself. 

He stroked my face with his gun again, this time he brushed it over my lips, sinking the tip of the barrel into my mouth and swirling it around. 

"Kiss it," he instructed. I touched pursed lips to the silver. "I will kill you if you kiss me like that," he crooned. He chuckled darkly as my eyes widened in fear. I renewed my efforts, licking, kissing and sucking on the gun as if it were my favourite lover. I felt him lower himself onto me, his member throbbed against my own desire, hard and urgent beneath his breaches. Another ripple of sexual heat flooded my body, instinctively I pushed back against him, grinding against his hardness. Again, he misunderstood.

"Don't try to get up." He put his weight more firmly against me. I gasped at the contact and he withdrew the pistol from the wet of my mouth. "Put your arms above your head and clasp your hands together." As I did so my bust lifted as my back arched slightly. 

One of his gloved hands fastened my wrists above my head. The other bunched up my petticoats revealing the silk of my bloomers. I wanted to undress myself, to offer up my womanly body nude and glowing in the sunlight. But my arms were fixed in place and all I could do was remain as still as possible as he pulled the silky fabric away. I had no dignity to my appearance, tits outs, a mess of skirts bundled around my waist, my furs on full display, legs splayed and bloomers tangled around my ankles. 

He was stroking my thigh with the pistol, which was now damp with my saliva. My juices flowed and my body burned. 

"Let's find out if you can house me," I raised my head very slightly in the hope that his thick cock would be forthcoming. It was not. Instead I felt the chill of metal slide slickly over my clit and between my labia. I gasped. He ran the pistol back and forth over my pulsing clit, faster and faster. Then in a swift motion he slipped it deep inside of me. I moaned in both pleasure and pain. It was too wide. It was too long. But I was so utterly filled and it was thrilling. "Oh I like that 'M'lady'. Purr for me again," I gave him more gasps and groans as he rotated the gun inside me like a key inside a lock.

He withdrew the gun, leaving me feeling hollow and empty. Then he held the barrel to his lips and began to suck my wetness from the metal. 

"You taste like a harlot," he informed me. I could plainly see his erection pressing against the inside of his breeches. I prayed for him to enter me. 

He slung the gun on the ground a little way off. 

If I could find a way to grab the gun before him, I could blow his head off and get to safety. Thoughts of escape quickly dissipated however, as he brought his quivering member from his breeches. The tip glistened with a jewel of precum and he shook his length casually in his now ungloved hand. He pulled me roughly forward into his lap, so that my face nestled in the musk of his thigh. 

"Come on now, on your knees," he smiled mockingly as I obeyed, "Oh, you are so well behaved. They must teach young ladies this sort of thing with their dining etiquette and dancing." He grabbed my face in his soft warm hand and and pressed the heat of his cock against the outside of my cheek. I turned my head and took him into my mouth, smearing my lips with his salt and tasting his masculinity. I luxuriated in the texture of him; the glossy smoothness of the shaft and vulnerable tenderness of the head, the delicate ridges and raised veins. Inspecting each part of him with my tongue, licking over the salty slit, feeling him pulsate inside my wet mouth. 

My eyes fell closed and I sucked on him as if for nourishment, his hand roughly guiding me, pushing and pulling me back and forth at a steady tempo. I felt every minute swell of blood, every tiny shudder of his pleasure. I was beyond any normal arousal I had ever felt. I was lost in heat and want. 

The rhythm stopped without warning. 

"I think you're enjoying this," he murmured, slowly inching his beautiful cock out of my mouth. "On your feet." He barked, commanding again. I awkwardly put myself back on my feet, the ruffled skirts descending artlessly to the ground, my slack corset still sitting half open on my hips. He backed me against the side of the carriage, again pinning my hands above my head with one strong hand. With the other, he sank his fingers into the folds of my wetness. After the gun, they felt breathtakingly soft and gentle as he fluttered his fingertips against the dimpled roof of my chamber. Sounds flowed from my lips in wordless curses and prayers. I didn't want him to stop. I wanted his solid cock inside me. I didn't want him to stop. How wretched not to ever be able to have both.

Now he pulled me away from the wall of the carriage to sit me on the step, so that I was the perfect height for him to fuck me. He forced my legs wider open with his strong hands. 

"Dripping wet, desperate little whore," he hissed.

The heat finally seemed to affect him and he shed his long overcoat. Sweat marks his white shirt beneath. He pressed his whole body against my glowing flesh, bringing his cruel mouth to my nape, breathing hotly on my neck and earlobe. Making dark promises of splitting me in two with the force of his hard, throbbing, dripping, bastard-making cock. I could feel that cock twitching, pressed, sticky and ready against the cream of my thigh. He scraped his teeth across my neck and shoulder, nipping and biting me. His hands toyed with my swollen breasts, squeezing and shaping them. Tugging at the stiff nipples, which his mouth then fell to, demon teeth twisting and teasing them. I called out in pleasure and want. 

Then he filled me.

His hot, thick cock enters me with all the assuredness and certainly of the gun and the all the flesh comfort of his fingers. Stretching me just right. He fucks me, in the middle of the heat of the day. Hard. Deliberate. Never slowing. He fucks me. He says nothing. But I scream for him. Ugly language crawling uncontrollably from my cumstained lips. 

"Fuck me. Fuck my cunt. Fuck my whore cunt."

His hips thrust up into me over and over, his hands fix my curves in place, his dark devil eyes travel up and down my body as if a gaze could consume flesh. My breasts judder and swing, sweat pours from every pore, and my hair sticks to my face as I pant with the effort of receiving his gift. I clench my walls against him, grind on his cock and close my eyes to concentrate on the physically of the sensation. The heat that has building in the bud of my clit all this time starting to spread through my whole body, making my thighs, buttocks and spine tingle with frisson. He fucks me. Hard. Faster now. 

The heat glows white hot and I come undone.

"Ah!" I am uncontrollable for a moment, my hips bucking and my body ablaze. 

With great effort, he maintains his onslaught for a few more strokes, beads of sweat falling from his brow. I can feel him so close to losing himself, in agony with lust. Then I feel his final boundless shudder. He fills me with his seed and groans heartily in the throws of his rapture. He clutches my body close to him, riding out the wave with his mouth pressing a lovebite into my neck. 

"I never take a lady's money you know," he purred in my ear. "It wouldn't have mattered if you'd had all the coin in the country - I still would've fucked you."

And that's how I survived my encounter with the infamous Thom Turner.