Chapter 64: Indians

"I believe you know my wife," the captain said calmly, nearly giving me a heart attack.

Suzanne smiled sweetly at me, and I took her offered hand and said, "Of course, that unfortunate business."

"Yes, yes," said the captain. "Well, while you've been off gallivanting, she and her sister - I believe you've also met Brigid - and a friend of theirs have been visiting the camp."

I nodded and watched Suzanne lick her lips and take a breath to poke out her lovely boobs. I wondered if she still had my old shirt. I remembered Brigid too and what we had done in bed that night and next morning, the three of us. My member tingled and my back spasmed.

"Now, we're moving on and they need to go home, back to western Massachusetts. Crossing the Hudson's the only tricky part, but Suzanne knows the best ferries, up near the Tappan Zee, don't you dear?"

The young woman nodded and licked her soft lips. "I can hardly wait to get back to my own bed," she said, holding my gaze with her dark eyes and taking another deep and exciting breath that nearly popped her large globes free of her lace-trimmed clothes. I thought about what we could do in her bed, but I underestimated by at least half.

So I shaved, put together my kit, drew some ammunition, tied my horse on the back of their light barouche, hitched up their two heavy-boned grays, met their buxom friend Ann who giggled and stared at my groin, tied on their luggage and off we went the next morning on what should have been a week-long trip there and back for me.

The captain gave me a purse for meals and the ferry, and I saw to it that each woman had a small, loaded pistol she could reach, just pop-guns really, noise-makers. They all protested such precautions, saying they had no difficulty on their trip to visit their kinfolk in the army just a fortnight previously. I insisted and had each of them fire once before we left. They did it with eyes closed and girlish squeals of surprise, but they did it. None of them could hit a good-sized tree from fifteen feet.

We enjoyed a mid-day meal they had packed, and I tried not to listen to their chatter, some of which was obviously about me and my foul habits, gross abilities and physical equipment. The road was in good shape, the weather was fair and, with occasional rests, the big horses gobbled up the miles. We came to a low-roofed, moss-covered tavern Suzanne remembered and stopped for the night having covered, I estimated, almost forty miles. The innkeeper gave the ladies a big, soft bed and found a place up under the eaves where I could sleep on some old quilts but where I could barely sit up much less stand. We ate in relative silence, enjoyed a bottle of local wine, promised to be ready to go early so we could reach the Hudson ferry before dark, and went off to our clearly separate beds.

It did not surprise me that I heard the ladder rattle and soon saw Susanne's curly head appear in the attic. She knelt beside me, having already shed her stays and stockings. She pulled her shift over her head, letting me admire her lush, warm body in the starlight coming from the narrow window at the end of the eaves. I grabbed a breast. It more than filled my hand.

"I won," she whispered, as she curled in beside me and gobbled up my mouth while my hands enjoyed themselves. "We played odds and evens." She wiggled nicely as our legs intertwined, my knee bringing her to trembling, liquid readiness in less than a minute. "Ann topped Brigid so she'll be here in the morning, lucky girl."

She stroked me, held me and made a hungry noise in the throat. "I told her she was the real winner." She urged me to get aboard and locked me in with her legs. "I hope you'll be gentle with her." She moaned, "Oh damnme, I'd forgotten the size of that thing. " She lifted her hips and sucked in air as I sank it. "Go on, go on," she gasped.

I did. Memory had been true, she was a terrific lay, selfless, cooperative, energetic and grateful, throbbing within when she came, lubricating us for further pleasure and then encouraging us to discover it. I might have tried some more imaginative positions, but the lack of headroom limited our fleshy permutations.

Twice was barely enough for her, and I held her atop me after she had loosed a screech the second time that might have frightened the horses or raised the dead. She gulped on my shoulder and heaved up and back until we both knew there was no more to be done right then, at least not that way. She sat beside me, found her shift, whispered, "That was wonderful, just wonderful, like I remembered only better. I can hardly believe it," and went back down the ladder, her garment in her hand. I think I was asleep before she reached the bottom rung.

As promised, Ann appeared in the grey light of false dawn. She was a placid, solid, rounded girl with wide hips whose age I could not guess, perhaps twenty, but she had very healthy appetites. She loved to eat and loved to swive. While she was in my care, she got her fill of both.

I had my usual morning problem, both long and hard, and the girl arrived fully anticipating it. I helped her skin out of her frilly night dress, caressed her a bit, kissed her here and there, sucked her protuberant nipples and fingered her cunny. She sighed and heaved, grabbed her knees to spread her chubby legs, and we began a mutually pleasing effort. She had obviously been thinking about the morning exercise before she mounted the ladder. I banged my head on a roof beam when she heaved me upward and continued on after our initial success. She was wheezing and quivering when we finally pulled apart and lay puffing next to each other, happy and excited, but willing to try again. My shaft still hard and thick, trembling for action.

"They were right," she moaned, amazing chest heaving. "I thought they had been jesting. That's a real wonder, a Maypole, a main mast," she said, holding the soggy thing while I mouthed her huge breast with its hard nipple.

The real wonder rose again under her ministrations, and we managed to grapple together side by side and satisfy each other with our tongues and hands busily engaged. She only pulled her mouth away to cry out. Then she screamed silently into my throat, a long, shuddering exhale while we spasmed again and again as I extended myself and fired my load.

The ladder shook and a female voice asked, "Aren't you randy beggars done yet? Time to go."

I rolled the girl to her back, satisfied myself with some deep and rapid plowing that left her shaking and spent, mouth agape, eyes closed. I helped her don her gown, kissed her sweetly, caressed her overflowing breasts, raked back her wild hair and watched her disappear, still breathing hard.

We ran into trouble an hour or so later with Brigid sitting beside me on the driver's seat, her hand stroking my thigh, its heel at my prod. A Redcoat lieutenant and an Indian wearing leggings and little else stepped into the road fifty yards before us. I looked back and found a mixed party of what appeared to be redskins and redcoats closing in. They had eyes only for the women in the open carriage and were all but salivating. I could hardly blame them.

"Stay calm," I yelled down at my passengers as I applied the brake and steadied the horses.

"Get out, get down," the Brit ordered. It turned out that he was the only Englishman there although, one of Johnson's men, although some of his native soldiers wore red coats. He took my purse and ignored my big bayonet while one of the Indians made off with my horse and musket. The Indians quickly found the three pistols and my spare ammunition while they pawed at the women and took their reticules. "Expecting trouble?" asked the officer while the Indians stood about and admired the young women who were huddled together and very wide-eyed.

"Guess I was right," I said. "These ladies are on their way home, to Massachusetts."

"Are they?" said he. "Very tasty, indeed. Well perhaps they could pause for an hour or two and entertain my men."

"You wouldn't give white women to those savages, would you?" I asked, wondering if they were any worse than the Germans and doubting it.

"Might," he said, jiggling my heavy purse. "Perhaps you can entertain us, too." He cocked his head and looked up at me. "You're big enough to make it a fair fight, a least you'd have a sporting chance."

"I'm a soldier, you can hold me prisoner, but let them go," I asked. "They're just civilians."

He smiled, and marched us off to his camp. By the time we got there, all three young women had been roughly fondled, lost their necklaces and ear bobs, and Ann's bodice had been ripped away and her large, round breasts bobbled in the sunlight beneath her thin shift.