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Message-ID: <47800asstr$1084349403@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: oldbill2@comcast.net
Subject: {ASSM} Rebel 041 (MF hist)
Lines: 174
Date: Wed, 12 May 2004 04:10:03 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Rebel 041.txt" begin>


Rebel II 041 (Old Bill) (MF hist)

Counterspy	

The woman under me was smiling while her body heaved and rolled 
from side to side, a bit like a rowboat tied to a pier, except that I had 
her anchored to my jerking cock and most of the motion was up and 
down.  She raised her hips and her velvety quim pulled me deeper 
into her when I already felt fully extended, my cods nestled in her 
lips, my ram's full head battering as her womb.  I surged up and 
back, rocked left and right, trying to screw it in even farther, 
straining my back and belly, knowing I was stretching her vagina 
and forcing her innards to readjust their positions.  She squealed 
and shuddered, pouring fluids over my root as our bodies slapped 
and squished together.  We grunted and throbbed, thrust and 
recoil, thrust and recoil with only her head and shoulders on the bed 
most of the time.  It felt a foot deep in her, digging in my toes, 
banging into her bones, thick and hard, bashing her raw little prick 
mercilessly.  She was panting and drooling when she suddenly came 
again, spasming and keening, kicking my rump, grasping my horn 
with a grip like an ironworker.  I rammed onward, faster and faster, 
swelling and feeling the flow of my jism until I pumped out my 
release, gasping with pleasure as I poured semen into her, rope after 
rope. She was a big woman, but I had enjoyed all of her.

	When we finally fell apart, sweaty and panting for breath, she 
rubbed a large breast up my arm and ran her fingers through the 
hair on my belly as I lay on my back, thoroughly spent.  "They 
wanted me to seduce you," she whispered, her lips right at my ear.

	"Why?" I gulped out, my long spear limp on my thigh.

	"Think you may be a spy, they do.  Want to find out, get 
names of others.  That's what they told me."  She kissed my cheek 
and lay back, warm and moist.  My arm was under her waist, my 
hand about her broad buttocks and along her hip.

	"Who does?" I asked when I could get my brain and lungs 
working together.  "Who sicced you on me?"  I pulled my arm free 
since it was going to sleep.

	"Can't tell," she said with a giggle.  "Deep, dark secret. They 
warned me." She managed what I suppose was a coy look, a hard 
thing to do since she was naked and oozing various thick fluid from 
her pounded twat.

	"Oh really," I said, sliding my big paw down to cover her hairy 
mound.  I let my middle finger slip into her crack and then bend and 
slid up into her cunny while my palm massaged her gently, rotating 
as she purred.  

	She moaned and wriggled.  "Um hm.  AndrŽ said I should 
never tell anyone."

	"Mayor AndrŽ?  That vain fop?"

	"He's not, and he's a fine lover, very considerate.  You're 
going to leave me sore for a week.  He'd never do that."  She 
turned toward me and got a leg atop mine, knee nudging my spent 
member. "You almost bit off my poor little nubbin."

	"Well, well," I said.  "We'll have to figure out what you can tell 
him."  I pulled her all the way astride me, her legs hanging by my 
hips and my poor root trapped between us, smashed against my 
stomach.

	"Ah," she sighed, wriggling to get comfortable, her head 
down on my chest and the keel of my ram partly in her dripping slit.  
"I'll tell him you are a drunken yokel who wouldn't know a secret if 
you tripped over one."

	"Why are you so good to me?" I asked, helping her sit up on 
my thighs and then cupping both her luscious breasts which 
overflowed my fingers, the dark nipples still engorged and showing 
some of my nibbles here and there; love bites she called them.

	"Just because of this," she said, taking my turgid pike in both 
her hands and treating it savagely, tweaking its head and kneading 
its shaft, raking it with her fingernails.

	"Ouch," I cried, trapping her hard nipples between my fingers 
and squeezing.

	"Such a crybaby," she whispered as my prong hardened and 
she rose to stuff it into her.  Then she slowly lowered herself on that 
growing spike with a satisfied sigh until the whole blood-hot thing 
disappeared into her sodden quim.

	She got herself comfortable, her knees up alongside my ribs, 
grinned down at me and then rode me until I whimpered, my back 
nearly broken and my groin a mass of soggy pain.  I enjoyed 
watching her big breasts bounce as she heaved and ground herself 
into a series of trembling orgasms, but I had not been able to achieve 
even a single ejaculation by the time she lay back against my raised 
knees, slapped my tired buttocks and pronounced herself satisfied.

	"Lord, woman," I said, hoping she would soon disembark, 
"you should be." I needed very badly to piss.

	"Let me tell you," she said, looking suddenly serious, "I've 
swived a few men in my time, and I'm a good bit older than you, but 
you are absolutely the damnedest stud horse I've ever mounted."  
She rocked from side to side on my loins while my over-worked ram 
jerked and flexed within her juicy body.  Her big boobs flopped 
about, the brown nipples still distended.


	I stroked her thick thighs.  "What are we going to do about 
Andre?"

	"I'll tell him you didn't know what I was talking about," she 
said, resting her hands on my ribs and letting her hair fall into my 
face.  "That you're too dumb to come in out of the rain."

	"Will he believe you?"

	"Oh yes," she said, as her hips again began to move up and 
down on me, grinding and rooting.  "He trusts me."

	I rolled her to her back and finished her off, finally, long past 
the time she had gone limp.  I was able to pump out a bit of jism and 
find that release I had long sought.  I pulled myself free, stood on 
wobbly legs, used her nightjar and found my clothes while she lay 
there moaning and sobbing.

	I sat back on the bed, petted and praised her and then helped 
her dress.

	"Maybe we can do better than that," I suggested, kissing her 
nose.

	She took a deep breath and pushed at her tangled hair.

	"I'll give you a name," I said.  "You tell Andre that he might be 
working for the rebels, that you've heard stories.  Say I mentioned 
him; it'll be the truth."

	She nodded, smiled and after I kissed her belly button and 
licked her clitoris a time or two, we went down to the tavern for a 
quick meal.  I went off on my rounds, highly pleased with myself 
and thought about which Tory troublemaker to get in trouble.  That 
evening, after we had both satisfied our lustful natures, I said, "Tell 
him Mr. Everett, Thomas McKeller Everett.  Say you saw him talking 
with a man wearing a black cockade, that you think some money 
was involved."

	She wrinkled her forehead.  "Won't be enough," she said.

	"I'll think on it some more," I said, and we slept with her hand 
filled with my member.

	In the morning I convinced her.  A week later the rich factor's 
shop was boarded up and his warehouse lay empty.  The word on 
the street was that his heart gave out after he admitted his guilt. The 
Crown confiscated his goods and chattels. One of the men who dug 
his grave in the old Trinity churchyard told me he had a small round 
hole in his temple.



<1st attachment end>


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