Chapter 71: A Milling Operation

I am not sure who brought us information about the Tory miller, but whoever it was, I owe him a debt of sincere gratitude. The lieutenant detailed George and me to go out with an empty wagon and to bring it back filled with flour, no excuses acceptable. So that was what we did, at least what we set out to do, and when we followed the directions and crude map we had been given, we found the mill. It was well-built of local stone and had a overshoot wheel. We could actually hear it groaning before we saw the thing.

Then came the surprise, the miller was not at home but his lissome wife and buxom daughter were. While George flirted with the girl, I told the woman of our charge. She smiled me a good smile, said, "Take what you want. I'll tell him I had no choice; big. strong men like you two, armed and all and no way for two weak women to prevent you taking whatever." She smiled. "Whatever you want."

I nodded, gave her the quartermaster's requisition, and we began loading the wagon with two-hundred pound barrels of well-milled white flour. By sunset we were done and the lady of the house offered us a meal which we enjoyed along with a bottle of home-made wine of some sort, blackberry maybe. Then George and the girl, whose name I have completely forgotten, scurried off to the loft, all but panting to be at each other.

The woman, whose name was Portia, smiled at me as she washed her plates and trenchers. "Nice to be young, ain'it?" she said, pushing her hair from her face with the back of her hand. We could hear the panting from above. The front of her dress gaped invitingly and our hips rubbed together now and again.

I agreed and dried what she handed me, feeling myself rapidly hardening. Then she took my hand, kissed my knuckles, and we adjourned to her sturdy bed, blew out the lamp and stripped out of all our clothes in record time. The very first thing she said to me when we pried out sweaty bodies apart fifteen or twenty minutes later, was, "This here's the first time I been glad m'man's a damnfool Tory."

Her ripe, lush body responded to my caresses and kisses, and we soon clamped ourselves together again, heaving and lunging, listening to the ropes beneath us complain, and achieving another fine, shuddering climax that left us both breathless. While we rested, we could hear George and the girl steadily thumping and moaning above us.

"He's been known to swive for an hour straight," I told the woman. "Hope he wont hurt her."

"She's well practiced," she sighed, "been at it a couple a'years with the local swains. Bundlin' she calls it. Miracle she ain'had a young'un. Can't tell 'er nothing, that girl."

We slept for a spell, and she poked me awake some time deep in the night to complain of my snoring and get me to turn over. Since I awoke with a fine erection, I took the opportunity to mount her again, and she did not complain about the intrusion, which, I must admit, did not last long.

George woke me in the gray of morning by shaking my shoulder, nodding toward the loft with his finger to his lips and taking my place beside the warm, sleeping woman with a smile on his face. "Tight piece," he whispered as he slid past me. I climbed the ladder with my prod poking up toward the rafters to find the nubile young woman sitting up in her blankets, sniffing and, I suppose feeling abandoned and sorry for herself. She greeted my naked body with open arms and quickly found my overheated root.

"Glory," she whispered to my mouth. "That's a monster."

I kissed her while I squeezed her firm, young breast and rolled her onto her back, knees spread wide and feet flat on the floor. She got both hands on my leaping spear as I knelt between her legs. "Don' know if I can."

"Let's try," I suggested, lifting her thighs. "You can keep hold of it if you want."

It was indeed a narrow slit I found and a moist but tiny opening. My member's sensitive head prodded itself in, and I heaved forward my hips and penetrated her viscous quim to the place where she held tight to my throbbing shaft. She made a very odd sound, but her body responded to my entrance and her womanly hips lifted to meet my constricted lunges. I grabbed her butt and we went on like that for some time, both enjoying the friction and the feel of our bodies grinding each other despite having a small fist clenched between us, but then she squealed, threw wide both her arms and I sheathed my ram to the hilt in her narrow, juicy cunny, another three inches I suppose. She gasped and writhed beneath me, eyes closed in the pre-dawn gloom, and I enjoyed her until I came, pumping out my swollen ballocks' load with explosive energy. She sighed and went limp.

When I withdrew my sodden pike, she turned away from me, sniveling and moaning, pulling up her knees and making herself small. Down below us, I could hear George plowing away and the big bed squeaking with metronomic regularity. I was still hard and unsatisfied, so I snuggled close, kissed her neck, grabbed her breasts and got my rearing weapon up between her small, round buttocks. It took some prying, but I finally got it lodged and slid in a few inches.