Demon and Demeanour. Book 4 of Poacher's Progress
Chapter 18: Speed the plough

Copyright© 2016 by Jack Green

Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 18: Speed the plough - Vengeance, like duty, is a hard taskmaster, and Jack Greenaway's humanity, and mental robustness,is tested to the full in the search for the killers of his family. Rewarded for his past services to the Crown Jack is then given other tasks, one that will eventually take him away from England, but not before he learns some peculiar facts about cider making. A gas lit meeting leads to partnerships, corporative and corporeal, which restores his faith in himself, but not in God.

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Mult   Consensual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Historical   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Violence   Prostitution   Military  

Walking homeward along Hatton Street I wondered at my sudden act of charity towards the Rothsteins. Was the demon inside me relaxing its grip on my frozen emotions, or was it because Judith Rothstein had caused John Thomas to re-awake?
A slight movement in a narrow alleyway to my right caught my eye, and I felt for the knife carried in the top of my boot – the area was a haunt of footpads and cutthroats. I stopped walking, and allowed the faint moonlight to glint on the blade of the knife held in my hand.

“Elijah, it is me, Judith.” A cloaked and hooded figure showed at the entrance of the alley, beckoning me to follow her into the darker depths.
I followed, replacing the knife in my boot top. In a black alcove Judith stopped, then turned towards me and threw back the hood of her cloak.
We gazed at each other for a fraction of a second, and then her arms wound around my neck, and her soft warm lips descended on mine. Her tongue insisted its way past my teeth and delved into my surprised mouth.
The last time I had been kissed on the lips was by Rulenska Crossley, but her kiss had been swift, soft, and sweet.
Judith practically devoured me; her full lips almost bruising mine with their intensity, her tongue thrusting and probing, licking the inside of my mouth until tasting my tongue, which as yet was supine.
The same cannot be said for Mister John Thomas, who at Judith Rothstein’s first embrace had risen erect. My tongue found hers, and the two gambolled together before mine was sucked into the warm moist cavern of Judith’s mouth. John Thomas was attempting to invade the warm moist cavern between Judith Rothstein’s legs, even though several layers of clothing lay between John and his objective.

By now I was warmly and wantonly kissing Judith as she me, and it would not be long before her skirt was pushed up around her waist, her drawers, if she wore any, ripped down around her ankles, and I would be thrusting hard into her up against the alley’s rough brick wall, rutting like a drunk with a harlot.

It was I who brought the mad, reckless, moment to an end. I tore myself away from her urgent body, and spoke in ragged gasps.

“What are we doing Judith? We are behaving like animals. You are married; think of the shame you will feel tomorrow if we continue with this madness.”

She looked at me, her hair tousled, bodice undone, firm breasts heaving, and eyes glittering with lust.

“I have been married to Mordecai Rothstein for almost a year. Three hundred and thirty days of boredom — three hundred and thirty nights of boredom and frustration. Mordecai is a good, kind, and decent man, but he is a Rabbi’s son, and obeys all the laws of Jewry.”
She refastened her bodice and straightened her disarrayed clothing.
“Do you know how many laws there are in the Holy Torah?”
I shook my head. I did not know what the Holy Torah was, let alone how many laws it contained.
“There are six hundred and thirteen laws, as many pips as there are in a pomegranate. Holy laws of how to dress. Holy laws on what and how to eat. Holy laws of how to beget children. Holy laws that order your whole life. If it is not wholly lawful then Mordecai Rothstein will not do it.”

Judith had regained her composure, and now spoke softer, and with less heat.
“I want to be a good wife to Mordecai and give him many children, but he will not allow me to do to him those things I wish to do, nor will he do the things to me I desire. My sister tells me how her husband licks her private parts, bringing her to wet rapture. And how she takes her husband’s member into her mouth, bringing him to shuddering joy. I attempt these things and Mordecai rebuffs me. He says our holy laws do not permit such conduct. Light, laughter, love, and children, fill my sister’s life, but mine is filled with laws. I am going mad with desire and disappointment. Mordecai mounts me at night, gives five or six grunting thrusts, then rolls off and falls asleep. I have to use my fingers to relieve the pressure I feel – we will never beget at this rate.”

“There is no God, so how can there be ‘Holy Laws? Laws are made by man, and holy law is a pretence crafted by priests and rulers to enslave men.”
I spoke forcibly, and Judith gasped in astonishment.

“You don’t believe in – HaShem?”

“No, I do not believe in any divine presence, but I can see you and Mordecai do.”

I gave some thought to the framing of laws. Man-made laws always have a hierarchy, in that some laws over rule others, so it follows ‘God’s laws’, which are also man made, would have a similar pecking order.

“Is there a Jewish holy law which states the purpose of marriage is to beget children?”

Judith nodded, still shocked at my admission of not believing in God.

“Yes, all marriages should be blessed by children – barren women may be divorced by their husbands. Populating the Chosen People is a major mitzvah.

 
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