Chapter 76: Teaching

I signed on as the family tutor before I met the Dutchman's children. His wife had died, he told me as we sat in a tavern drinking beers, and the last schoolmaster he had hired had run off for some reason. He asked me if I could read and write and when I told him I could, he offered me a place the sleep, two good meals a day and a shilling a lesson; five or six days a week, he said. It was good pay, a crown a week. I decided to leave the army, at least for a while.

"Dey are so dumb, dey need all d'learning dey can get." He puffed his pipe and glowered at me. I finished my beer and accompanied him to his large farmhouse, very tired of the war.

He had four daughters, and I must admit I do not remember all their names since I was not there for very long. They ranged, I believe, from fourteen to twenty years of age. Looking back, I am amazed that I lasted two weeks on this job.

The man had a fine library and good intentions. His daughters, on the other hand, every plump, blonde, randy one of them, were only interested in one thing, and it was not Shakespeare; it was sex.

The oldest, on the day we met, presented me with a very neat schedule. I complemented her on her fine penmanship and asked her to explain.

"Vell," she said, brightly, "you are a big man, much bigger dan our last teacher, ja. Das iss goot."

"So?" I said, waving his small list.

"So, he could do two each day, most days. You should be able to do three. One in the morning, ja, anudder after supper, and the third in the effening, all night maybe." She smiled proudly and licked her lips.

I waited, beginning to catch on. I looked around the table. They were all smiling and they all looked hungry.

"Why did your last teacher quit?" I asked.

The girls looked at each other, giggled, put hands over their mouths and the oldest said, "He said he vas vasting avay. He vas a skinny man to start. He said ve vere too much for him."

"You want me to roger you, each of you, all of you?"

They nodded and smiled, bouncing their plenteous charms.

"Three a day?" I said, wondering if I could do it, and of course since they were so comely and eager, willing to try. I remembered the needy Quakers.

"Ja," said the oldest. "Ve vill make up a schedule so efferybody has, vat shall ve say, a fair chance. Undt not alvays the same time, ja. Dot would be bad."

"I'll think about it." I said, "Now let's get to work. What have you been reading?"

"Macbeth," said the oldest, crestfallen. "It is awful."

"And where are you?"

"Act three," said one of the others and her sister elbowed her. Eight bulging breasts were, I admit, distracting.

I doled out parts, giving myself Macbeth's role, and we read, discussed, and read some more. They read reasonably well despite their thick accents. When we finished the act, I gave each of them a different assignment to write a paragraph about and took the oldest aside.

"Your father did not hire me to swive you," I told her.

She nodded and smiled. "Ja, ve know, but he iss seldom here. One ting, you must pull out before you come. Each of us has a different way to help you den."

"I don't think it's right," I said.

"Since I am oldest, I am first," she said, ignoring my protest and taking my hand and leading me to an alcove in the library that was screened off from the rest of the room. A sturdy chaise stood there, upholstered in red damask. We sat and she took my hand. "If you do vell, ve praise you to our father. He gifs you more money, maybe."

I studied her smooth skin and blue eyes, her golden hair and ripe body; there was a lot of her, ten stone at least.

"Right here?" I asked.

"Ja, for the first one of the day. Ve do not vear stays except ven ve go oudt. Dot makes it easier, I tink."

It did. She sat, I knelt before her as she strongly suggested; she hoisted her skirts, opened her bodice, and I unlimbered my weapon. I am pretty sure she could not see it. She was tight and deep, but also well lubricated and very warm and willing. I held her wide rump, sucked her big nipples and then covered her soft mouth when she was about to cry out in passion. As I neared my pinnacle she sensed it, pushed me away, produced a large handkerchief from her sleeve and held my shaft with both hands as I pumped out my release. We both moaned a bit.