Chapter 65: Daughter

The general must have known about his slim daughter's randy inclinations for the first thing her did on arriving for his inspection was to have guards placed around the house he had commandeered. Foster's company got the detail since we were basically unemployed at the time, and we stood four-hour watches, shooing off amorous subalterns and wondering about the prize they sought.

The third evening of this duty, I heard a "Hist, soldier," and turned to find a tall, young woman standing in the side doorway, beckoning to me with a crooked finger. "Come here," she hoarsely whispered.

I approached and found that the rumors were right, she was indeed a tall, lean beauty. She held a silver coin out to me. "Here," she said. "When a lieutenant Raymond comes, let him pass. He'll give you another shilling."

"Can't do it," I said, tossing the coin in my hand and then giving it back to her. "They'd hang me or shoot me or both." She looked handsomely crestfallen, nearly ready to weep with the neck of her low-cut dress gaping for my inspection.

"That's so mean," she sighed. "My father won't let me see anybody young,"

"Are you so in need?" I asked, enjoying her smell.

"Go away," she squeaked. "You're dirty, ragged and unshaven. Get away. And you smell. How rude!" She sniffed and closed the door.

I pushed it open and stepped in beside her, putting my musket to rest against the wall. I held her at the hips and pulled her belly against mine. She was a lean and brave beauty. "Suppose," I said, our lips an inch or so apart, "suppose I bathe and shave and clean my hair, would you bed me then?"

She wiggled out of my grasp but neither ran nor cried out. She raised an eyebrow. "You are a bold one, ain'cha?"

I smiled, kissed her quickly, took my musket and went back to guard duty, well and truly roused. The next day I dunked myself in the creek, found a new shirt and stockings at the commissary tent, had the commune barber shave me and trim my hair, and at sunset took my post again, smelling a lot better than I had the night before, cock wiggling upright against my belly and ready for action.

An hour or so later, the side door creaked open and the girl hissed at me. She held a small candle, raised it and looked at me appraisingly. "You certainly smell better," she said as I set my musket aside and gathered her in. She dropped the candle and grabbed me about the neck, smashing our mouths and bodies together.

I stomped out the sputtering flame, hoisted her voluminous skirts, unlimbered my turgid weapon, pushed her back to the thick door jamb, fingered her small quim and was jabbing my prod up into her before she could give me any more praise, my hands filled with her heaving bottom. She was tight and perhaps unprepared for so rapid an intrusion by so massive a spear, but she soon had her feet up on the opposite side of the doorway and was gasping, eyes closed, grunting deep in her throat as I kneaded her buttocks and took my pleasure in an accelerating manner.

When we both had shuddered and climaxed, I let her down, smoothed her clothes, reclaimed my weapon, kissed her nose, said, "Later," and went back to my post, feeling a bit drained but reasonably proud of my work. My stones tingled pleasantly. She was still gasping for breath.

Foster came along soon after that, asked if I had anything to report and then went about his business. I figured that gave me a couple of hours at least since my lieutenant was probably on his way to one of his many lady friends. I spotted the short candle in an upper window, made my way into the dark house, up the back stairs and entered the girl's sleeping chamber.

She was sitting before a mirror, brushing her long hair. I came and stood behind her, rubbing my confined member on the back of her head. She smiled at me in her mirror, turned, released my eager lance and took its swollen head into her large mouth. She nearly swallowed the thing, and I held her shoulders while she encouraged me to slide it in and out of her lips.

"You're soon going to get a mouthful," I warned her as she held my thick rod with one hand and continued to suck it while she kneaded my hard ballocks. She nodded and her eyes widened as I stiffened and then pumped out again and again, gritting my teeth to keep from screaming in passion and relief. When I was finished, she stood, licking her lips and smiling, a bit shaky, and I lifted her and took her to her large bed, kissing her wherever I could find a place. She was writhing like a snake and moaning pleas while I sucked her pointed nipples and then tongued her soggy quim.

I yanked off my boots and plunged into her, still fully clothed. As I bent above her, thrusting with all my might into her steaming cunny, she undressed me diligently, but we had both come again before I was able to strip off my britches and lie beside her, breathing hard.

"You surely were in need," I whispered.

"Yes," she sighed, "and you surely are the biggest man I've ever known. 'Sbones, I thought you were going to spilt me open." Her hand sought out my limp prod.

"I've got to get back to my post. My relief comes soon," I told her. "Tomorrow?"

"We're leaving," she said, stoking more vigorously, "He's done here."

"Pity," I said, kissing her deeply and spreading her thighs with my knee.

"No, wait," she said, releasing my now jumping lance, rolling over and raising her rump. "Try this way."

I held her narrow hips and took her as gently as I could, inch by quivering inch until I could go no deeper and then we bucked and humped for what seemed an hour, forth and back, in and out, up and up. I am sure she achieved several clenching peaks, but I could not come again despite my best efforts. I dripped sweat on her lean back and drove her up the bed until her head was on the wall before she collapsed before me and released my mast from its pleasurable confinement.

I left her there, rolled into a ball, dressed and crept back to my post and then to my tent for a brief nap before we were up and parading again. Two of us, a Scot I barely knew and I, were assigned to see that the general got to his next area of inspection. He had his own coach and driver so we just lazed along with them on a fine, soft day.

The Hessians jumped us at the brow of a hill, shot the driver from his seat and brought down my horse. I leapt to a wheel and then up to the high seat, got the reins from the dead man's hand and urged the team to run for their lives while the Brunswickers reloaded. I am not sure what happened to the Scot. I never saw him again.