In the Navy - Cover

In the Navy

Copyright© 2005/2020 to Argon

Chapter 8: Doña Maria

Historical Sex Story: Chapter 8: Doña Maria - The story of a young officer, Anthony Carter, in the British Royal Navy during the Napoleonic Wars. Inspired by the novels by C.S. Forester. First in the Anthony Carter Universe.

Caution: This Historical Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Rape   Romantic   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Historical   Military   Oral Sex  

It was the last evening of the voyage, and Tony had ordered to shorten sails as he did not want to make the landfall at night. He and his guest had dinner with Inés; but now the girl had retired and they were alone.

“Don Antonio, you have rarely told me anything about your private affairs. I know that you are not married, but you must have a fiancée.”

Tony’s face must have shown the pain, because she put her hand on his arm.

“I am sorry, I did not mean to stir up sad memories.”

“No reason to be sorry, Doña Maria,” Tony answered with a forced smile. “I really should get over it, but it is not that easy.”

“Would you care to talk with me?”

“It is quite simple, Doña Maria. I met a girl when I was 18 years old and second mate in my father’s ship. I fell in love with her right away. She was the daughter of an admiral. I think I joined the Navy mostly because I wanted to be eligible for her.”

“What happened?”

“We fell out a year later over a stupid mistake I made during a ball her father gave.” Here Tony blushed noticeably. “I only met her again over three years later. I had just been promoted to captain and I met her in her family’s home in London. We made up with our past quarrel and we fell in love again. I was to leave on a journey to the Great South Sea, a year’s trip, but she promised me to wait for my return.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t really know what happened. I only know that when I returned, there was a letter for me, from her mother, to inform me that she was married to another man, the son and heir of a peer. She did not even wait a half year before she broke her promise.”

Doña Maria put her hand on Tony’s arm.

“Have you seen her since then?”

“Yes, a chance meeting in the street. She was with her fat husband. She nearly fainted when she saw me.”

“And what did you do?”

Tony smiled grimly.

“I exacted a little revenge. She had given me a medallion with her image. I returned it to her in the face of her husband. I suppose she had some explaining to do.”

Doña Maria smiled.

“That was quite subtle. So I take it that you do not trust women anymore?”

Tony found his smile back.

“No. I had the luck to meet a very special woman in London during my last stay. We made no commitment, but it was good to be with her. She restored some of my faith in women. I did something stupid, though. When in Portsmouth, I had an affair with another young woman, too. Now, I am worried that I may hurt either or both of them.”

“You are an enterprising young gentleman, Don Antonio,” she mocked him. Then she became thoughtful. “I have not seen my husband in over three years. I admit to being worried too. What if he, under the assumption I was dead, remarried?”

“Doña Maria, a man who is married to you will never look at another woman again,” Tony assured her.

She smiled sadly.

“My husband and I were married for political reasons. He is considerate to me, but his love is devoted to his paramour. He has known her long before me, but he could not marry her. Her father had fallen into disgrace. So he had to marry me, but he has not spent ten nights in my bed.”

“I am sorry to hear that. Are you afraid that he might not welcome you?”

“No, no,” she said bitterly. “I am much too important for his ambitions. I am related to the Royal House of Borbon. No, he will welcome me, and we shall settle into our previous life again.”

Tony was not sure, but he thought he saw her eyes brimming with tears in the diffuse candle light of the cabin.

“I don’t know what to say, other than I am sorry for you, Doña Maria. You deserve much better.”

Now Tony had put his hand on her arm. A spark of understanding flew between them as Doña Maria put her hand on his. They remained like this for minutes, their eyes locked into each other’s. Then she stood up slowly.

“Give me a few minutes to prepare,” she whispered when Tony scrambled to his feet. She pressed his hand once more before she disappeared into her sleeping chamber.

Tony called for his steward and had him clear the table before he retired to the chartroom where he had his temporary accommodation. He quickly took off his heavy uniform coat and stock. In the dim light of a candle, he shaved and washed the day’s sweat from his body with a cloth. Then, in his shirt and breeches, he walked over to Doña Maria’s chamber and knocked softly.

She opened the door and pulled him in. The chamber was pitch dark, but he felt her nude body in his arms as their mouths locked in the first, passionate kiss. Tony felt his way to the cot where he lay down, pulling the woman on top of him. He felt her breasts as they swung with her movements, her nipple tracing circles over his chest, while his hands had taken hold of her buttocks. He quickly peeled his breeches down over his legs and shucked them off while Maria stayed perched on top of him. Holding her hips, he guided her pubes toward his own, stiff member. Maria gasped when she felt the tip of brush against her swollen labia. She tried to capture the tip with her opening, undulating her hips. Tony helped by a minute repositioning of his groin, and then the tip gained a hold between her labia. With a sob, Maria impaled herself on his rod. Deeper and deeper, her opening swallowed the stiff member until, finally, their pubes meshed.

She bent down to his face and kissed him deeply, all the while keeping him deep inside her. Her hips moved in a small circular movement that rubbed her little nubbin against Tony’s thick pubic hair. He found it increasingly difficult to hold off his impending release. The sensations he felt were just too much after an enforced celibacy of over 4 months.

Doña Maria, too, was building up rapidly. For three years, only her own fingers had given her release in the wee hours of the morning, and she forcibly banned all memories of the foul touches by Fra Angelo. She had only felt repulsion at the monk’s touch. But now, she was riding this real man, this young and healthy man, who desired her body as much as she craved his. She lost herself in the sensations his large member caused in her little used quim. The next picture before her eyes was a baby. That young man was about to release his semen into her, she would be with child, with his child. It was this thought of procreation that finally drove her over the edge.

Tony felt her movements becoming more urgent, felt her pubes rubbing his, and her love canal beginning to contract around his rod. The sensation were too much. With a barely suppressed groan he began to ejaculate into her. His addled brain did not register her urgent whispers at first, but then he understood.

“Give me your child, Antonio, your child, our child! Give it to me! Ah, yesss.”

She went limp over him and collapsed onto his chest. There she lay while Tony caressed her face. In the darkness, he found her chin and guided her mouth to his lips. For minutes they remained glued to each other. When their breathing had returned to normal, Maria lifted herself up and disengaged his softening member from her quim. She squeezed her body between the wall and Tony’s body.

“Thank you,” she said simply.

“No, Maria, I must thank you for these wonderful moments.” He tried to see her face in the darkness. “Do you think we started a child?”

“I have that feeling, don’t ask me why,” Maria answered dreamily. “It just feels right to me.”

“But what about your husband? If he finds out, he’ll kill you.”

“No, he won’t, Antonio. Do not worry. We have been childless. His paramour has not had children either. He knows that he cannot have an heir by himself. He will be happy. Of course, I must make him lie by me for appearance sake, for him to save face.”

“We could turn about, you know. I can bring you to England. We could also contact your husband privately first, to see whether he welcomes your resurrection.”

“No, Antonio. I will not run away. I will not return through the back door either. As I said, do not worry. But there is one thing I would ask you.”

“Yes, whatever you want.”

“Can we do it one more time?”

Later that night, when the morning watch was called, Tony disentangled himself from the sleeping woman. His arm had fallen asleep, causing discomfort. He also needed to clear out of the cabin before he compromised Doña Maria. She mumbled in her sleep, and Tony kissed her forehead before he sneaked out of the chamber.

Back in his makeshift chamber, he dropped on his cot. Two hours later found him on the quarterdeck, a dressing gown over his naked body. The startled men of the watch were ordered to rig a deck wash pump, and when they reported ready, Tony dropped his dressing gown and had the pump squad hose him down. The cool water was refreshing and he felt invigorated when he was back in his chamber, dressing in his second best uniform coat. He expected to make contact with the Spanish today, and he did not want to sell himself or the service cheaply.

The wet puddle on the quarterdeck had long evaporated when the lookout called out land. Doña Maria appeared on deck and Tony greeted her with all formality.

“Good morning, Doña Maria! I trust you slept well?”

She had trouble suppressing a silly giggle, and she looked gorgeous. Her eyes were shining, and there was a happy smile on her lips.

“Thank you, Capitan, I most certainly had a very good night.”

Tony kissed the hand she offered.

“As you will have noticed, we are in the approach to Cartagena. Another two hours should see us off the fortifications. We shall have to contact his Most Catholic Majesty’s representatives first to state our peaceful intentions. Perhaps you could write a message to be delivered to your husband?”

She nodded.

“I have already foreseen this need. A letter informing my husband of my fate is written and sealed. It can be delivered at any time.”

Reluctantly, Tony let go of her hand. There was so much more he wanted to say but time was running out. They could see the mainland from the deck now. On the Captain’s order, the helmsman corrected the course slightly, and HMS Clyde neared the great walled city of Cartagena.

Here, Francis Drake had plundered in 1586. Since then, the fortifications had been doubled and trebled to shield the wealth of Cartagena. However, in 1741, Admiral Vernon had again succeeded in subduing the city. When they neared the bocagrande, the northern entry into the Bahia de Cartagena, Tony had the Red Ensign hoisted. In response, a huge Spanish flag appeared over the large fort at the mouth of the inlet. The Clyde hove to, just out of gun range. The cutter was lowered to the water, and the third lieutenant, Mr. Dunn, was entrusted with the letters to the governor.

The cutter sailed towards the shore with the Red Ensign flying. Tony watched the boat through his glass. He could see that there was a Spanish officer on the jetty underneath the walls of the fort. As ordered, Dunn returned with the cutter after delivering the letters, and the Clyde stayed hove to for more than four hours.

Tony and Doña Maria had lunch in the cabin. They both knew they were on stolen time, but they made the most of it.

“I really loved what we did last night, Antonio,” Maria told him while they were sipping coffee. The table had been cleared, and they were undisturbed.

“It was one of the most memorable nights in my life,” Tony answered, slightly embarrassed. There had been a lot of such nights lately.

Maria grinned.

“Don’t worry, Antonio, dear. It was obvious that you have vast experience. I am not jealous, how could I? I am just thankful that providence has granted me one night of love and passion.”

“Do you really think that we may have started a child, Maria?”

She smiled.

“I can only hope. I would love to have a child before I am too old. I would love to have your child. My husband, well, I think he will be pleased, too. After all, he needs an heir. If things get unpleasant, I will claim that Fra Angelo was the culprit who dishonoured me.”

Tony looked at her. “Do you want to talk about him?”

“No, Antonio, I’d rather not. He was a vile man, a monster. He did things to the prisoners that are too foul to talk about. He’s dead now, and I will not allow him to haunt me.”

“Can you write letters to me? I would like to hear from you.”

“You mean, about whether I am with child?” she smiled. “Yes, I think I can arrange for letters to be sent. I will not be able to write about my feelings for you; my husband will read them without doubt.” She looked at him. “Antonio, you really should have a wife. Try to put this other girl out of your mind. She did not deserve you. What about the actress you said you met in London?”

“I’ve only met her one evening. She is very popular and she has admirers all the way up to the Royal Family. She cannot possibly be interested in me.”

“Don’t be too sure. If she is popular and admired, chances are she is lonely. All those admirers cannot give her what you can give and what I felt last night.”

“What’s that?” Tony asked bewildered.

“Love and devotion, Antonio. Of that you have enough to last for more than one woman. If she felt what I felt last night, she will wait for your return. Don’t miss out on the chance for happiness!”

Just then, they heard steps approach and then a knock on the door. Mr. Wilson stepped inside.

“Sir, Mr. Fortescue’s compliments, and there is a boat coming from the shore. A big boat with many officers, Sir.”

“Thank you Mr. Wilson, I shall be on deck presently.”

When the door had closed, Tony and Maria both stood and embraced. Nothing was said. Then he left the cabin and joined his officers on deck.

The approaching boat was large, almost 40 feet long, and propelled by eighteen oars. At least a half dozen officers in red and golden uniforms populated the stern. The boat hooked to the chains and a Spanish naval officer called up in halting English.

“His Excellency, Don Alonso Christobal Ruiz de Costa y Torquena, His Most Catholic Majesty’s Governor of Cartagena, asks for permission to come aboard.”

“His Excellency is most welcome and we feel honoured by his visit,” Tony answered.

A command brought the Royal Marines to attention, the boatswains’ pipes twittered, and Don Alonso came on board to the tune of an eighteen gun salute. Tony welcomed him and presented him to his officers. His Excellency, in turn, introduced his suite. After everybody had bowed at least a dozen times, Tony led Don Alonso to the cabin where Doña Maria stood prepared to meet her husband. Tony studied the little scene, and he was surprised to see that Don Alonso seemed genuinely happy about the return of his wife. He kissed her hands, he complimented her, and seemed just as excited as a loving husband could be expected to be. He turned to Tony.

“Don Antonio, you have earned my eternal gratitude. You have brought back the light of my life. For years, I feared that I had lost her. You must visit Cartagena, please! We shall have a fiesta like this city has never seen. Prepare to stay a week at least. If you agree, Capitan Ortega will stay with you to escort you into the harbour. You are hereby invited most cordially.”

That was something Tony had feared. But he could not refuse a personal invitation without raising suspicion.

“Your Excellency is very kind. On behalf of myself and my officers I accept your kind invitation.”

The procession moved to the deck. Maria was lowered into the boat using a boatswain’s chair, the governor bade his farewell, and the boat rowed back to the shore with hurry. Capitan Ortega stayed behind, and he gave the British captain instructions as how to navigate the entrance to the bay. It was late afternoon when the Clyde cast anchor in the harbour of Cartagena.

Capitan Ortega took his leave, but promised to be back later in the day. He was replaced, though, by a severe looking elderly gentleman who introduced himself as Don Alonso’s confidential aide and secretary. He spoke passable English and wanted to know as much as possible about the situation in the monastery. He then drafted a report which Tony had to countersign.

Another boat arrived shortly after, to take the remaining female prisoners and nuns to the shore. A grim looking priest oversaw this action whom Tony recognised from his frock as being an Inquisitor. The senior nun who had been lying to Tony on that first morning at the monastery, approached the Inquisitor, but he answered brusquely, and she shrank away, visibly terrified. When the Inquisitor approached Tony, he was reluctant. He was used to dealing with heretics, but this particular heretic happened to be armed and an honoured guest of the governor. Garcia had to serve as interpreter again. Although Tony’s Spanish had vastly improved during the evenings spent with Doña Maria, he preferred to use the translator to gain time for his responses.

The inquisitor spoke, and Garcia translated.

“He says one more nun here. He wants her, Sir.”

Tony set his jaw.

“Tell him she is my personal guest and that I guaranteed her safety with my word of honour. Tell him that he will have to do without her.”

Garcia translated and the priest looked daggers at both of them. He spoke at length again, and Tony had difficulties understanding him.

“He says, way of church more important than word of honour, Sir, begging your pardon, she must appear before inquisitor.”

“Tell him, no. Tell him, she will stay here. Tell him that I take no orders from him.”

Garcia grinned and translated. The inquisitor looked around, obviously trying to think of a way to enforce his will. When no idea came, he turned around wordlessly and left over the side of the ship and into the boat. This was the last they heard from him.

Later that afternoon, Capitan Ortega returned with a barge. The barge carried two freshly roasted bullocks that were still hot. Fresh vegetables and maize bread complemented the dinner Don Alonso sent for the crew of the Clyde. The men were ecstatic. Fresh roasted meat after months of boiled salted pork was a heavenly treat. Fresh vegetables were the utmost luxury, and soft white bread instead of maggot infested ship’s biscuit was beyond imagination for the average sailor.

Capitan Ortega also brought a message commanding Captain Sir Anthony Carter and his officers to a reception at the governor’s palace for the next morning at 11 o’clock civilian time. The message stated that there would be a mass at church to thank for the safe return of Doña Maria, but Don Alonso begged forgiveness, explaining that non-Catholics could not be admitted.

Thus, at four bells on the forenoon watch, Captain Carter, with four lieutenants and six midshipmen, all in their best uniforms, was rowed ashore in the longboat. Three coaches with uniformed footmen waited for them, and they were transported to the Castillo San Felipe. When they entered the Great Hall of the governor’s residence, Don Alonso himself came to greet them. As the guest of honour, Captain Sir Anthony Carter, C.B., was seated to the left of Their Excellencies, just opposite of the Bishop.

As soon as the British officers were seated, Don Alonso gave a long and flowery speech, in which he expressed his gratitude to God, the Mother Mary, the saints in general and the patron saints in particular, His Holiness the Pope, His Most Catholic Majesty, and, wonder over wonder, the Royal Navy in the person of his dear friend Don Antonio, for the great privilege of having his beloved wife returned to him unharmed. Don Alonso expressed his hope that in the difficult times ahead, the governments of His Majesty, George III, and his Most Catholic Majesty would find it in their powers to maintain peace between the two great nations represented. All the dignitaries clapped their hands dutifully and looked upon ‘Don Antonio’ for his answer.

Luckily, Tony had envisioned the necessity to deliver a formal answer, and with the help of the sailor Garcia, he had drafted a short answer in which he pointed out the great honour conferred to his ship by the privilege to give transportation to Doña Maria and the chance to be the first to congratulate His Excellency on the safe return of his wife.

Now the glasses were raised in salute, and toasts were delivered to the health of all the aforementioned monarchs and dignitaries. Tony drank sparingly and he looked sternly at his young officers to call them to their duty to remain sensible. Mr. Fortescue caught Tony’s glance and obviously passed on the order. Tony could see that his young men drank less enthusiastically with the next toasts.

When the toasts had been offered, servants swarmed out to load the tables with the first course of food. It was excellent food, if spicy, and Doña Maria looked at Tony with amusement in her eyes when he took his first bite. Tony had been raised in the Caribbean, however, and chilli peppers were nothing new to him. In fact he relished spicy food. When Tony expressed his appreciation of the dish, it was obvious to everyone that he meant it. Again, he ate sparingly, knowing full well that this was the first dish in at least seven courses. When they finished with a sweet dessert and a heavy, sweet wine almost two hours later, Tony had to concede that he had rarely eaten better in his life.

Hot chocolate was served, and then Don Alonso stood again.

“My dear friends,” he began, “yesterday was the happiest day in my life. My beloved wife, abducted by treacherous hand, had been missing for three years. Only my firm belief in the Holy Virgin gave me solace in those years.” He bent towards the Bishop who smiled graciously.

“At long last, by the grace of god, her false imprisonment ended at the hands of our dear guest, Don Antonio. We have thanked the Almighty this morning, now is the time to thank the tool of His mercy.

“Don Antonio, I shall always remain in your debt. We cannot offer you lands or fortune to express our thanks as you are a faithful servant of the great King George of England, may God bless him and enlighten him.

“As a token of my eternal gratitude, however, I would like to present you with this sword. It was forged for my Brother Enrique, by the best sword makers of Toledo where the best swords of the world are made. He used it with honour until he perished in the service of His Most Catholic Majesty. Let me express the hope that you will never have to unsheathe it against Spanish soldiers. But most importantly, my dear friend, let me hope that this blade, so finely crafted, will never fail you in a moment of danger.”

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