Rebel Spy - Cover

Rebel Spy

Copyright© 2014 by realoldbill

Chapter 23: Annalee & Annabelle

Historical Sex Story: Chapter 23: Annalee & Annabelle - 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  

"These ladies," said the madam, handing me a note and some directions. "They say they need a driver they can trust, and I think they need a guardian since what they do is often very dangerous." She fanned herself and closed her eyes. "The things we do," she said to herself. "Get along," she said to me with a wave of her fan and a small smile, "and do be useful."

The "ladies" turned out to be a mother and daughter who had been highly successful in rising within the Tory aristocracy. They were both beauties and, of course, both dressed in the height of French fashions in the colonial style and were well schooled in all the polite manners and dancing customs. They were Mrs. T--, whose name was Annalee, and her charming daughter, Annabelle, who was already a bit taller than her mother, equally desirable but not yet as fully formed. The mother might have been forty but I doubt it and the daughter was perhaps twenty or one or two years less. I never asked or found reason to do so.

I sat with them in their ornate parlor with its swags of drapery, sipping undemocratic tea, and learning their habits and difficulties. The mother talked; the daughter watched me like a bird of prey, a very lovely one but with a hungry look.

"The Germans have been a problem recently," the mother was saying, "bent on, well there is no other word, on just, plain rape and very insistent. We have both have our clothes torn and our, um, our bodies pinched, scratched and bitten."

The daughter nodded and shrugged her firm boobies within her tight gown, bobbling them upward. I kept my saucer in my lap to conceal what I was feeling as her stays pushed her round breasts together and upward, pink globes.

"So," the woman said with a satisfied smile, "I have had a signal device rigged, a small ring I can pull which sounds a bell beneath your seat."

"And?" I asked.

"When you hear that, stop the carriage, hop down, open the door, and inquire if you can be of service."

"As you wish," I said.

On the third day that I drove for the ladies, tended their horses and yearned for their bodies, the bell between my feet tinkled as we were returning from a soiree late at night with two lean Redcoats in attendance, a pair of randy captains in high boots, flaps at their knees. Since they were not German I had not been particularly alert.

I stopped the team at the sound of the small bell, set the brake, leapt to the ground, yanked open the door and pulled the pair of men out onto the verge, sputtering and trying to reassemble their jackets and belts.

"Ma'am," I asked the darkness, "how may I be of service?"

"The gentlemen." she said coldly, "have decided to walk back to town. Please see them on their way."

I knuckled my forehead and turned to the two standing beside the ditch, scuffling their feet and buckling on their swords, very red faced. "Hoof it," I said with a smile.

"Fuck yourself," said one while the other buttoned his high, tight collar.

"The ladies do not wish your company," I said as I was handed a hat from the dark interior of the carriage. "Good night." I was wary but trying to sound conciliatory.

'Bitches," said the bigger of the two, clamping on his hat. "We were just flirting."

"Let's do 'em right here," said his companion, hissing out his sword.

"Serve 'em right, gettin' a man all riled," said the first. "You take care of this lout." He reached for the handle of the carriage door, and I kicked his feet from under him so he fell on his face. The road, unfortunately for his fancy uniform, was deep and muddy. His partner swung at me with his thin blade and I ducked. He thrust and advanced, in good form I had to admit; I retreated a step seeing a pale face at the door's window. When his next wild swing struck sparks for the iron wheel, I stepped up and disarmed him, twisted his numbed wrist up in the middle of his back, dislocated his shoulder and deposited him in the ditch, head first. It was about half filled with dirty water.

I kicked the man getting up from the mud squarely in the ribs, took his sword and flung it out into the dark and then jumped up to the driver's seat, released the brake and flicked the reins.

When we got to their home, the daughter hurried inside, but the woman said, "I'd like to see you when you've taken care of the horses."

I nodded, hopeful of fleshy rewards. The short fight had, as usual, excited me in all ways.

I wiped off my boots before entering the back door and found Mrs. T-- waiting for me near a glowing fireplace. "Sit," she said, waving at a chair. I sat. "You were just a bit precipitate," she said, still standing. "You should have asked first."

I nodded.

"But they were a foul and empty pair. It was my mistake for encouraging them."

I nodded again and smiled.

"Now," she said, coming to stand right at my knees, "I have another request."

I reached out and put my hands on her trim waist.

"My," she said, "aren't you perceptive? Hm, and wasn't that rather exciting, that little fight?"

I slid my hands down to her rounded butt and pulled her toward me.

"I wish you had shaved," she said, just before she raised her head and took my mouth. Our tongues mingled.

We mounted the stairs arm in arm after she warned me to silence and assured me that her daughter was a very sound sleeper. No light showed under the girl's door, and we made our way to the front bedroom, quietly helped each other undress as our heart rates rose and rolled into her high bed.

"It has been some months since I have had a real man here, here in my bed," she said when I freed her mouth. Her thigh was pressing my excited member. I pulled her to me.

Her nude body was warm, smooth and wriggling under my hands.

"Slowly, slowly," she urged as I spread her legs and got situated between them, high and hard. She guided the head of my long prod into her, smiling up at me and then gasping when she felt the size of it spreading her flesh.

It really was not slowly at all once I had my spear seated; she took over, and we galloped freely until we both had climaxed and cried out in our pleasure. I was ready for more almost at once, but she pushed me away. "Another time," she said. "I need my sleep. Busy day tomorrow. Did I tell you we were entertaining?"

I snorted and pawed her, but she pushed me away from her tits, and I gathered up my clothes, put my feet into my boots and stepped into the hall.

There was Belle in her nightgown, looking like the proverbial cat. She took my forearm and dragged me down the hall and into her room where a small lamp glowed.

"Put you clothes over there," she said, looking down at my long, thick but sodden member which arched outward and downward. "And get out of those boots. I thought you and mother would go on forever."

"We had a brisk ride," I said following her to her bed.

"Brisk," she said with a chuckle, "I don't believe you ever fell below canter and most of it was gallop." In a single movement she pulled her long gown over her head, tossed it away and crawled under the quilts. I had only a brief glimpse of her young body but it was enough to bring my rod to startling and straining attention, jutting up at the ceiling and oozing juice.

"Now," she said, as I lay beside her, "I must tell you that this sex business has been quite frustrating for me."

"Eh?" I said brightly as I cupped her small breast in my big hand and teased out her hard nipple while I kissed her here and there.

"You and mother both enjoyed it; I could tell that, and the men I've known - there haven't been many I'm sorry to say, only three so far after I popped my own maidenhead - they have seemed to be very pleased with themselves, but, well, I've found whist more interesting." She giggled as I pinched her. "Don't do that."

I kissed her and caressed her, letting my fingers explore her muff and her mound. She complained about my unshaven face and my hairiness. I got us into spoon position, with my rising bone between her thighs, probing while I kissed her neck, stroked her breasts and got my right hand very busy in her groin, the heel massaging just beneath her curly muff and my fingers between her slippery lips, spreading her open.

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