Chapter 32: Service as Requested

"Well," the woman said with a small smile, "Let me see this famous instrument." She sat back in her softly upholstered chair and crossed her long legs, letting her foot bounce.

"Madam?" I said brightly. I had gone where I was sent and had been brought to the lady's upstairs parlor by a black maid in a starched apron.

"Come now," the handsome woman said, making a wry face, "surely a big man like you isn't bashful."

I sat and crossed my legs, aware of my growing tumescence. She was a lovely woman dressed in a loosely flowing gown, her hair undressed and her legs bare. She lifted her chin and licked her lips. "Cat got your tongue?"

"No'm," I said, "Madam Von R-- did not tell me what you wanted of me."

"Ahm" she said as if that made everything clear as glass. "Ah, well, I need a stud, a young man who can tame and satisfy my two girls and their very haughty and horny friends."

I smiled at her. "You do?"

"Indeed. They have been teasing the Brits and the Tories, weaseling out some valuable information now and again, but they have refused their favors to both high and low. They need, what shall we call it, refreshing."

I nodded and suppressed my smile and my lust. I recrossed my legs giving my prod room to slip down my breeches' leg. It felt a foot long.

"Your friend sent me a note, as you know." She waved it. "She praises you and states clearly that you have what is needed to solve my problem, in fact, she states that you are locally famous for it."

"Amazing," I said.

"So," she said, putting the note aside, "let's see it. Proof of the pudding and all that."

"Is in the tasting as I recall," I said, standing and stepping to her side. I quickly opened my foreflap, held it aside and let my aching root spring forth and rise, trembling and expanding quickly as it did.

Her eyes got quite large, and she swallowed somewhat noisily. She sniffed, nodded, and said, "Very well, thank you."

I stepped forward until my mast's ripe head was at her soft lips. It rose to bump her nose, and she pushed it aside. I put my hand in her hair and turned her to face it. Her tongue seemed to dart forth of its own accord and touched the quivering head.

"Open," I said softly, "if you please."

She looked up at me with pleading eyes as her lips parted, and I slid my shaft into her warm mouth. She circled its head with her tongue and stoked the underside repeatedly. I made very small in and out movements, just enough to excite the sensitive spear's thick ridge, barely an inch or two.

"Satisfied?" I asked her with a smile.

She nodded, her hand now grasping my thick rod.

I withdrew slowly and put it away. Then I resumed my chair and looked at her. She licked her lips and gave me a sickly smile.

"I should have known that Madam Von R-- would know what was needed," she said.

"She told me that you had been having problems with some foul grenadier, a captain I believe she said."

The woman nodded, looking stern. "I think he suspects what we've been doing."

"Then perhaps he should vanish, desert, disappear," I said.

She smiled. "Just so. And he will be here this evening."

"I will be happy to take care of that for you. Now, what would you like?"

She stood and lifted her chin. "I'd like for you to get out of those clothes and join me in the next room."

Happy that I had both bathed and shaved at the old madam's insistence, I took her elbow and followed her to her huge, canopied bed. I could not recall seeing another so high nor so ornate.

I unbuckled my belt and pulled my shirt over my head. Then a sat down and pried off my boots, feeling the woman watching me from the other side of the huge bed.

"You certainly are hairy," she said with a smile as she tossed her robe aside and slipped under a quilt, evidently using a small foot stool to get up to the bed's height.

"Keeps me warm in the winter," I said. I was quickly beside her, hard and eager.

"Now there is absolutely no hurry," she said. "My guests will not be arriving for hours."

I guessed she might have been forty, perhaps a bit less, a mature woman of about ten stone, nothing shy about her either. We fumbled and played with each other for a bit, nuzzling and nipping, and then I mounted her as she lay back and spread her legs, knees raised and feet flat on the thick mattress.

"This your favorite way?" I asked.

Her forehead furrowed. My prong's blunt head found what it was looking for after a bit of probing. She inhaled and sighed out, "Yes. It's the only way I've ever done it."

Two hours later she had managed to find pleasure in eight or ten other positions and concluded that her absolute favorite was playing ride a cock horse at the side of her bed with her firm boobs in my big hands and her feet braced on the sideboard. She was strong and tireless, but when we agreed to quit, she was panting as well as dripping various fluids down the inside of her thighs. I was also spent and ready for a rest so did not complain very much, just enough to please her I think.

She dismissed me with a wave and a smile, and I dressed and retreated to the kitchen for some food. The cook, a black woman, was at the stove and two young white girls sat facing each other at a table, shelling peas. They looked enough alike to be sisters, both less than twenty years I was sure. They wore plain work dresses, homespun, and pinafore aprons. When I sat with a plate of food and a glass of milk, they smiled at me.

"This is Joan," said the one on my right, "and I'm Jean, were cousins."

I shook both offered hands gently and said I was happy to meet them.

"You here to horse us?" asked Joan.

I just about choked and they both patted me on the back.

"You do put things rather openly for a well-bred young woman," I said, looking from one to the other.

"Well?" they both said, smiling.

"I am here to visit your mother," I said, "and..."

"We heard you visiting her," said the girl on my left.