Rebel Spy
Chapter 2: The Poor Old Widow

Copyright© 2014 by realoldbill

Historical Sex Story: Chapter 2: The Poor Old Widow - Follows the Rebel's activities in New York in support of one of Washington's spy rings

Caution: This Historical Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Historical   Violence  

"Now," said the madam, with a small smile, "I want you to go visit this woman, the poor dear, she's had such a hard time, and do what you can for her. She is a widow of this war. I just found out last week."

"Yes'm," I said, knuckling my forehead.

"And bathe first, shave and get one the girls to cut your hair so you won't look so bearlike."

"Yes'm," I said with a nod.

"And put on some clean linen for goodness sakes."

"Yes'm."

"And polish your boots."

I fled, did as I had been told and about sunset arrived at the woman's home which was deep within the area controlled by the British and their lackeys, domestic as well as foreign.

The poor, old widow met me in the lean-to summer kitchen of her sturdy home, pushed her long hair from her fine face, looked me up and down and smiled, sticking out her hand. "The madam has a fine sense of humor," she said, waving me to a chair. She might have been forty but I doubt it.

She poured me some very pale whisky, put some bread and honey butter before me and then called, "Alma, get down here; you too Harriet; be quick."

In jig time, two luscious young women appeared, reasonably disheveled with rags tied about their heads and aprons about their waists. My cock immediately came alive. They curtsied to me, both grinning like the proverbial cat, and said they were glad to meet me while I was still climbing to my feet and bobbing my head. Both gave me a firm, strong handshake and both looked at me as a good farmer might assess a plowhorse at a fairday sale.

"They have been working," their mother said. "It's unusual, but they have. Sit girls."

They sat quickly, one on each side of me, hands in laps, and then their mother pushed up her sleeves and sat opposite me, an odd smile on her face. "We have been having," she said, "let's say, a problem with men, several problems in fact. The three of us seem to be the only eligible females for miles about, all the others having vanished at the enemy's approach I suppose, and we have, almost daily, been fending off the increasingly - ah - vigorous entries of Redcoats, Hessians," she made a wry face, "and Tory officers as well the occasional depredations of their men who have raided our orchard, stripped our corn field and stolen two work horses. Several men have attempted to call on me and nearly a score on these two," she looked from one to the other, smiling with pride, "these vain young critters of dubious virtue."

"I see," I said as each of the girls sitting beside me put a slim hand on my thighs, just resting there, very calm. Their mother raised a curved eyebrow and the hands withdrew quickly.

"These two," the mother said, "as you can see, are of courting age, and they both think me cruel and horrid to refuse to let them associate with the young men who appear with such great regularity, all bearing presents and all asking only to sit and chat with them in our small parlor. Under strict supervision, of course. Or take them to a rout, or out riding in a carriage. You understand?"

The girls both nodded and both sniffed, looking at me from the corner of their eyes. They were, judging by their dimples, suppressing smiles. Despite their work clothes, they looked and smelled wonderful, soft and rounded, young and more than ready.

"How can I help you?" I asked innocently.

Harriet, the girl on my right, guffawed and put her hands over her mouth. Her sister, a year or two younger, blushed. Their mother took a breath and held my eyes. "We will talk about that," she said.

A knock rattled the front door.

"Come," the woman said, "this one's a bit late. Sun's about down, but you will see what I mean. They are the only ones that use the front door."

I went to the door with her and stood behind her when she opened it. There stood three young, carefully dressed and immaculately groomed royal officers, hats under their arms, belts glowing, swords gleaming, boots like mirrors.

"Madam," said the lieutenant in front as he made a leg, and then he saw me, "who the hell is this?" He put his hand on the ornate hilt of his hanger and his ruddy face flushed still redder. He smelled of spirits.

"I am the lady's brother," I said gruffly, "the girls' uncle. What is it you want?"

His eyes got rather big; he cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. "Just brought a present," he said, swallowing, "some good woolen cloth." He handed the woman a small bolt of plaid.

"No, I thank you," she said, giving it back. "We do not accept gifts from such as you."

"What!" the young officer squeaked, "I say, that's..." and he looked up at me. I gave him a nasty smile.

"You heard the lady, boys," I said. "Good evening." I took her elbow and she closed the door in their faces. I threw the rasp with needless force.

"Will they leave?" I asked as we went back toward the kitchen, her hand in the crook of my arm.

She leaned against me, trembling a bit. "Always wanted a brother," she whispered.

"See, see," said Alma, "she just shoos they away."

"We don't even have a chance," whined Harriet, pouting. "And that was a lovely plaid."

I resumed my chair and the woman poured me another inch of whisky.

"We all must sacrifice," I said, trying not to sound pompous.

"Foo," said Harriet, a frown on her lovely face. "It wouldn't hurt to talk to them."

"It would encourage them," I said. "Make their life easier, more pleasant."

'But, but," said Alma, "but that can't be wrong. We are Christians, after all. What do you do?" she asked me suddenly. "Who are you?"

"I'm a soldier, a Continental," I said. "My job is to kill them, all of them that will not leave."

"Oh," they both said, taken aback, blinking.

"Goodnight, girls," their mother said. "He and I must talk. You may read for a while."

They rose, kissed her cheek, glanced at me, smiled and hurried away, jabbering at each other, petticoats and pinafores flapping.

"I don't envy you," I said.

She just shook her head. "They say my man was killed up north, with Montgomery. They buried him in Canada."

"That's been a while," I said.

"Yes," she agreed, "they've both ripened since he's been gone."

"Hard to put a lid on that."

She nodded. "They were raped a year or so ago, when these beasts first came through here, both of them, viciously, right here in the house."

"Germans?"

She nodded.

"They're lucky to be alive."

"I know. They used me too. Broke a couple of ribs doing it"

I held her hand. She took a deep breath. "My old friend sent you here to, well, to be the man in the house for a bit. Not a brother or an uncle either."

I nodded. "How old are they?"

She smiled. "Harriet is sixteen, almost seventeen now; her sister is fourteen. She was twelve when she was attacked, but she seems to have recovered, and I fear she is now completely boy crazy."

"And no boys except the foe."

She nodded.

"You want me to bed them?"

"I think so," she said. "If they'll have you. You are surely the largest man they've ever seen."

The back door burst open, smashing back on its flimsy hinges, and the British lieutenant who had brought the woolen cloth stood in the doorway, weaving from side to side, obviously drunk to the point of falling down. He must have emptied a flask in a great hurry. Behind him I could see the eyes and outline of the other two young men.

"Here, y'harridan," said the young officer, throwing the plaid cloth on the floor, "he don' look like no brother to me."

I stood quickly and faced him, opening my hands to show they were empty. I looked over his head. "Why don't you men take him out of here?" I asked them.

"He's a leftenant," one of them said as if that explained it. The wobbling man managed to get his sword from its scabbard after two or three tries. He waved it in my general direction, his eyes unfocused.

"I wan' those young bitches," he pronounced carefully. "Want 'em right now, ri'here." He pointed his blade at the floor unsteadily.

"Not likely," I said, and he took a swing at me that nicked the kitchen table. I grabbed his wrist and twisted. I kept twisting until the saber dropped to the floor, and then I pushed him out the back door and into the arms of his mates. "Gentlemen," I said quietly, "please take him back to camp."

"No," said one, breathing out the smell of rum, "it ain' right." He made to draw his weapon, and I hit him hard, deep into the middle of his chest. He oofed out his wind and dropped to his knees. I stepped on his blade and broke it in half.

"Here," the other youngster cried, letting go of his officer and producing a pistol from somewhere, the back of his belt I suppose. Since it was not cocked, I simply twisted it from his grip and threw it out into the growing darkness. He looked annoyed, blinking at me.

"Go on, now," I said, "before someone gets hurt."

The lieutenant turned aside and vomited explosively, bent double and heaved out his guts.

"Go," I said a bit louder. They went weaving down the lane and back toward the road, the pair of subalterns supporting the moaning man between them.

"See," the woman said as I got her door back in place and wedged it closed. "You've been useful already. I'm not sure I could have faced down those three."

"Maybe you should move," I said as she blew out the candle on the table. She took my elbow and led me toward the stairs.

"No place to go. They would tear the house apart if we weren't here. That was the first time anyone's broken in since," she shuddered, "since we were savaged."

"Then you do need a man," I said as we mounted the steps. "Don't you have suitors?"

"Lights out, girls" she said on the landing.

"We heard people," a young voice said from behind the door on our right.

"Who was there?" the other asked.

"Go to sleep," said their mother. "It was nothing, nothing at all, animals."

The light under the door vanished, and the woman led me into her bedroom and closed the door. She turned into my arms, rose, put her hands behind my head and kissed me hard and long. Her lean body felt wonderful on mine.

"It was nothing," she said again when she freed her mouth. "Now, we must be as quiet as can be." I held her buttocks and she ground her belly against me.

We undressed quickly and rolled into her high bed and then our bodies found each other. The bed had planks rather than ropes for support under a pair of thin mattresses, and when we joined and heaved together, they rumbled and groaned a bit, but we ignored the noise and just gloried in our passion, bouncing rather wildly. One shuddering orgasm was not enough for either of us, and our second joining was much longer, more complicated and much more fulfilling. When I finally spent myself in her again and rolled away, we both were sweaty and happy, gasping for breath.

 
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