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Message-ID: <48083asstr$1086210604@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: oldbill2@comcast.net
Subject: {ASSM} Rebel 067 Gloria (MF hist)
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Date: Wed,  2 Jun 2004 17:10:04 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Rebel 067.txt" begin>

Rebel 067 (Old Bill) (MF hist)

Persuading Gloria

	"There is," said the old Madam, looking exceedingly cross, "a 
woman who is doing us harm, at least she is trying to do so, the 
foolish harridan.  I want you to go see her and convince her of the 
wickedness of her ways."

	"Me?" I said.  "Why not send a preacher?"

	"No," the Madam said with an evil smile, "you have the 
equipment for this task.  This woman is using her sex in the service 
of our enemies and crowing about how much more manly the 
Germans and English officers are compared to the scrawny 
Continentals."

	"Then send an officer," I suggested.

	She hit me with her fan.  "You rest a day or two, keep away 
from my nieces and eat well.  Then go into the city and show her 
what a rebel can do in bed.  I want you not only to shut her up but 
to make her useful to the cause.  Other women listen to her."

	"Bit much to ask of so tender a little soldier," I said, scratching 
at my groin.

	"Go on," the lady said with a small laugh.  "Go on."  She 
fanned herself and shuffled away.

	I gleaned a bit more information about the young courtesan 
they were calling the golden girl.  She evidently only entertained 
high ranking officers, both royal navy as well as Hessian and 
Redcoat, and spread their praises widely, predicting the immediate 
destruction of Washington and his forces by these mighty men of 
impressive prowess.  Such obvious and blatant hogwash, but it had 
evidently convinced many in the city, especially young females, that 
they could safely support the despicable Tory cause and yield to the 
enemy's fervent entries for sexual favors.  She was said not only to 
be a first class beauty but a salacious and tireless bed partner who 
demanded much of her consorts, a man eater some called her, a ball 
buster, a cock knotter.

	So I rested up, ate and drank with relish, practiced unusual 
abstinence, even early in the morning, and, washed and combed by 
various nieces, ventured into the city that Saturday, bent on fleshy 
conquest, looking forward to the test.  I felt a bit of a fool and 
wished I had persuaded the decision makers to send slender Michael 
or Captain Foster, both of whom could feign good manners when 
called on and both of who were first class cocksmen as well.

	Having declined several invitations to pleasure that week, I 
found myself faintly tumescent by the time I reached the address I 
had been given, eager to prove my mettle as well as relieve some 
pressure.  I discovered a place to conceal my horse, gave her some 
food, and watched the house for a while as the shadows 
lengthened.  A carriage arrived, a cloaked woman with long legs 
and glittering jewels was escorted down the steps, and the carriage 
departed.

	When the house was dark and quiet, I went in the back door, 
up the servants' stairway and found the lady's bedchamber.  It 
smelled of her.  I pulled off my boots and lay down atop her silken 
bedspread, looking up at the lacy material stretched atop the four-
poster as a canopy.  I slept, my hand cupping my groin, dreaming of 
cornfields as I recall.

	A door slammed, and I was instantly awake, my bayonet in my 
hand and my brain asking where in the world I was.  I put my bare 
feet on the carpeted floor and my nose told my brain that it smelled 
powder and perfume.  My cock trembled.

	"Damn, damn, damn," cried a girlish voice as the young 
woman mounted her stairs and came to her door.  I stood back in a 
dark corner, away from the windows.  She came into her big room 
and slammed the door behind her, snorted, said "damn" again and 
threw something into a chair, a purse I guessed.  She turned up the 
small whale-oil lamp on her desk and raised her voice to cry, 
"Martha!"

	I stepped up behind her, put my hand over her mouth and my 
other paw at her trim waist and soft belly, fingers probing deeply.  I 
whispered, "Tell her you don't need her.  I'll undress you." I kissed 
her ear.

	"Mf," she said, trying to bite my fingers.  I pinched her nose 
closed as she squirmed in my grip.  I firmly held a full breast and 
squeezed a bit harder than I intended.  If I had frightened her at all, 
it did not last long.  I slid my hand down her body and massaged 
her belly and groin.  She wriggled but did not pull free.

	"Tell her to go away," I said very firmly.  Then I freed her 
mouth.

	She turned and looked up at me.  Still staring at me, she raised 
her voice and loudly said.  "It's all right, Martha.  Go back to bed.  I 
can do it."

	We stood facing each other with my hands on her hips, 
hearing foot steps retreating then mounting the stairs to the attic.  
Her soft belly and hard nipples touched me and she made a curious 
face.

	I bent and kissed her, long and deeply, pulling her to me and 
enjoying the feel of her strong body, stroking her back, tangling her 
hair.  She let me do it but never joined in the lingering kiss.  When I 
pulled away from her face, she slapped me, hard, right across the 
mouth, like a gun shot, a good right hand.  I kissed her again, a bit 
more brutally, pushing my tongue into her mouth.  She made some 
noises in her throat but again resisted and when our lips parted, she 
hit me again but I was able to lean back and turn aside from the 
blow.  So I kissed her again, kneading her muscular buttocks and 
gnawing at her lips while my other hand began popping open the 
small buttons on the back of her fancy dress.

	"Who the hell are you?" she asked when I freed her mouth.

	"A soldier, come to put the lie to your colorful stories, tall tales 
I've heard in the taverns."

	"Hah," she said as she wriggled out of her lace-trimmed 
bodice.  "You are vain as well as sneaky, rebel." I do not believe I 
had frightened her for more than an instant.

	I began on her stay strings, untying the bow and pulling them 
loose.  She slapped my hands away.  "I can do it, thank you.  Go sit 
over there."  She nodded toward an upholstered chair.  I sat, well 
stimulated and steadily hardening. I crossed my legs and enjoyed 
the show.

	She undressed quickly and without pretense, stripping herself 
to her skin with her back to me, painted a pale yellow by the lamp.  I 
admired her shape and smoothness, her long legs, rounded ass, 
deep spine and good shoulders in the faint lamplight.  Her ciunny 
hid in her buttocks' shadow.  She shrugged a long, thin nightdress 
over her head and eased it down her body.  Then she turned to 
face me, hands on hips, breasts jutting out, feet well apart and chin 
pugnacious.  My tumescence, fueled by rest, turned to full arousal. 
She was a fine looking young woman and when she pulled her 
combs and shook out her long, dark hair, she moved her lush body 
within her gown in such a manner as to stimulate me further.  I was 
ready to devour her.  Her confidence was well deserved.

	"Well," she said, "you have had your look.  Now what?"

	I  stood, bowed, introduced myself, said I was from Maryland, 
and suggested that she had been telling lies about Continental 
soldiers and officers.

	"Hardly," she said.  "Every one I've met, well, I've never met 
one that is a match for the King's men or his brave allies.  You are 
losers, weaklings, all of you, not fit to polish their boots."

	I took a step toward her.  She did not retreat.  "You must 
have met tired men, captives perhaps.  We have a few lickspittles.  
And I've seen the Germans rape women and the British dally with 
boys, but I've not met one I would call a real man, not one."

	"Fah," she said, licking her lips as I came nearer.  There was no 
fear in her face but perhaps some doubt in her eyes.

	"What made you curse when you came home this evening?" I 
asked, putting one hand gently back on her hip and the other on her 
chin, raising her mouth toward mine.

	"None of your brutish business, you rude man," she said, 
freeing her head and giving me a tiny smile.

	"Did one of the cowardly, overdressed macaronis disappoint 
you?"

	She took a deep breath and laid her head on my chest.  I 
pulled her to me and caressed her gently, tousling her hair. I 
counted a small victory.

	"He wanted me to," she began and then she stretched up and 
kissed my neck and then my mouth while I held her butt and lifted 
her a bit to continue the kiss.  Her tongue tip brushed my lips.  "He 
was drunk, passed out on the way home," she said coldly.  "And he 
was so pretty."

	"I am not here to rape you," I whispered to her mouth.

	"Pity," she said with a small laugh, a giggle.  She squirmed free, 
tossed back the covering on her bed, turned down the quilts and 
climbed in.  She lay flat, hands linked below her high breasts, 
watching me from the corner of her eyes.

	"What's your name?" I asked as I got out of my britches.

	"Gloria," she said.  "I'm from the lower counties.  My whole 
family is loyal, every single one."

	"Delaware?" I asked as I pulled my shirt over my head.

	"If you wish," she said.  "But it is the Duke of York's land."

	"No longer," I said as I climbed in beside her, my mast well 
stepped.

	"Fool," she said opening her arms and spreading her legs, 
digging in her heels and turning out her knees.

	"Why do you do it?" I asked as I mounted her, and with her 
thumb and forefinger she guided my blood-hot ram to her dripping 
slit in its curly bed.

	"Ugh," she grunted as I shoved,  "because I enjoy men. I 
enjoy rogering men, and the best men I have found are the King's 
men.  They, my god!"  She tensed, arched, shook and then collapsed 
and went limp, arms flopping.  I must have struck some sort of nerve 
for I was barely into her, surely not more than three inches or so, 
pressing hard, arched up, and her tight quim was greeting the thick, 
rounded, rigid intruder with pleasuring shivers and rolling spasms.

	I pulled it out and lay on my back beside her, my ram well up 
on my belly, jumping impatiently, already wet.  Her breathing was 
slow and regular.  She moaned, sighed, licked her lips and turned 
toward me.

	"What happened?" she mumbled, her hand on my chest, 
raking through the fur, a hard tit ribbing my arm, a knee on my 
thigh.

	"I think you fainted."

	"Oh," she said quietly, wrinkling her forehead.  "I remember 
doing that once before, when I was quite young, but the gentleman 
I was with went on and satisfied himself so when I awoke, I was 
alone and wondered for some time what had happened.  
Unfortunately, the evidence was soon between my legs once I 
stood."

	"Gentlemen, eh?" I said.

	She chuckled deep in her throat and turned toward me.  Her 
hand sought and found my thick, hard prod.  She stroked it and ran 
her thumb about its head.  "This is what I want," she said, kissing 
my nipple.

	I gave it to her, slowly, gently and repeatedly; then harder 
and harder and deeper and deeper until we had the whole bed 
bouncing and the canopy swaying from side to side.  She came, 
arching and spasming, at least twice, crying out with pleasure both 
times, and I finally fired a cannonade of hot sperm into her depths 
and then, after a few dozen more strokes, subsided and withdrew.  
We were both panting.

	"Um," she said, cuddling close to me, her leg atop mine, arm 
across my body, head on my shoulder, "um, that was quite 
impressive.  You have a fine weapon there.  You could use some 
instruction in its proper use and a lot more patience, but," she kissed 
my neck, "that was very fine, quite nice.  I appreciated your 
diligence."

	"Nice?" I said, my right hand full of her buttocks and my left 
filled with a firm breast.

	"Um hm," she said, wiggling to get more comfortable.  "Are 
you planning on spending the night?"

	"It's your bed," I told her, releasing her firm booby and 
pulling her atop my body.  My well-satisfied member lay down on 
my shrunken ballocks.  I pulled the quilt up over both of us.  She 
was very warm and felt wonderful resting on me.

	She pushed her way up, got her knees by my ribs and brought 
her mouth to mine.  After she kissed me, she said, "If you are just 
intending to sleep, I'd rather you went elsewhere."

	"I snore, so I'm told," I said after I returned her kiss.  "I don't 
think you'd want me to sleep here."

	"Um," she said, grinding her lush body into mine, raking her 
hard nipples up and down my chest, crushing her mound against my 
pubic bone.  "So?"  Her lips trembled.  She smelled of lust.

	I felt it rising and kissed her back, letting my hands roam over 
her wonderful body and pinching out her hard nipples. She 
undulated, moaned a bit and rubbed her belly against mine.  I rolled 
her over, hoisted her legs up on my arms, got to my knees and 
rammed it into her with a single thrust.  She gasped.  I stayed fully 
extended and smiled down at her as my poker jumped wildly deep 
inside her, provoking thrilling responses.  "I should have asked, 
Gloria, how do you like to do it?"

	"Aiee," she cried, writhing and impaled.

	"Oh," I said, rolling her up on her shoulders and rotating my 
hips right and left.

	"Oh god, god, god," she cried, hammering her fists into the 
tumbled quilts.

	I shrugged my shoulders under her knees, grabbed her 
buttocks and hoisted her as I began very slow withdrawals and 
very fast insertions of the full length of my iron-hard spear.  She 
jumped and gasped out with each stroke.  She kicked her feet up 
and down beside my ears.

	"No, no, no," she cried, as with each thrust I pulled it almost 
all the way out, held it in her trembling lips for an instant and them 
buried it in her glove-tight quim until it battered her womb.

	"Don't, " she gasped, getting one leg back down to the bed, 
"please don't, you're, oh god."

	I yanked it out, flipped her over, lifted her hips and was back 
in her just like that, plowing her just as deeply but now much more 
steadily, our bodies moving together as I pistoned in and out of her 
mercilessly, smacking us loudly together.

	"No more, please," she cried when her head reached the 
footboard, and I was still ramming half-foot heaves into her at the 
rate of about two a second.

	I withdrew, turned her over, spread her legs, and slipped my 
blood-hot pike back into her juice-slick cunny.  Arching up with my 
arms fully extended, I looked down at her.  "You all right?" I asked, 
barely moving in her, just two or three inch thrusts , holding each 
until it quivered and jerked.

	"No, no," she moaned, "oh please, no, no more, please, 
please."

	"What," I asked, giving her ten or twelve very fast ones, 
"you've had enough for now?"

	She nodded vigorously as I ground us together and she came 
again, making animals noises as she clamped hard on my manhood, 
milking me although I was yet to climax again.

	I rolled us over so she lay sprawled atop me, still thoroughly 
imbedded on my long, hard root.  I caressed her sweating body and 
let my prong enjoy itself in her while she gulped and gasped.

	I had heard a story when some knight claimed he had the 
strength of ten because his heart was pure; well that night I had the 
strength of ten because my heart was impure.  It was one of those 
rare times when it simply stayed hard and eager, never satisfied, 
and I went on rogering the luscious girl in every way I could 
imagine, chasing her about the room once or twice,  until the sky 
was turning pink and she was lying stretched out before me as I 
stood up on my knees and held her writhing hips.

	I finally released her and crawled up beside her, raising her leg 
so that my tireless prong could seat itself in her pouting quim.

	"I think," she moaned, reaching down to grasp the thick but 
slippery shaft, "that you have made your point."

	"Have I?" I asked softly, rolling her to her back.  "Well good.  
Now we can get down to some serious love making and stop all this 
childish foolishness."  I sank it all the way into her, battering at her 
cervix.

	"Ah," she sighed, "ah, ah, ah."

	"Shall we rest, perhaps sleep?" I suggested, grasping both her 
breasts in my big hands and squeezing out her nipples between my 
fingers.

	"Ah," she moaned, "oh, um, ah."

	I arched up and began a long series of deep heaves into her 
tired cunny.  "Um, that's good," I said, putting all I had left into the 
effort, straining my back and butt.

	"Yes, yes," she gasped, "rest, rest, oh yes."  She writhed 
beneath me, her body responding unbidden to my continued 
assault.  "Rest, rest."

	I pulled it out of her and slid up so that my root's massive 
head lay right at her parted lips. My knees were in her arm pits; my 
cock lying between her soft breasts.  "Kiss it," I suggested, lowering 
myself slightly so that it rested on her mouth. Her tongue flicked out 
and then she kissed it soundly.  I rolled away, well pleased with my 
performance and hoping my erection would eventually subside.  I 
was sore and was sure she was too.

	When we awoke, the sun was high.  We looked at each other 
and smiled.  I pulled her head to mine and kissed her.  "Not now," 
she said, wriggling away, finding a robe to pull about her wondrous 
body and hurrying away.  I used the chamber pot and got back 
under the quilts after straightening the bed some.  She returned 
shortly and crawled in beside me.

	"Breakfast in on the way," she said.

	"How long?" I asked grabbing her roughly.

	"Long enough," she sighed, kissing me back.

	I was on her at once, iron hard and feeling a rod long.  She 
wrapped me in her long legs and we hurried each other to gushing 
climaxes that shook us and left us ready to destroy the tray full of 
food and drink that soon arrived.  

	Then we joined our young bodies again for a much more 
leisurely exploration of  pleasure, and when I was finally sated and 
spent, I rolled off her and lay breathing hard while she rose on an 
elbow beside me and said, "That the best you can do?"

	"You are a cruel woman," I said, noting her bruised lips and 
abraded cheek.

	"And you are nothing but a bully, taking advantage of a poor 
girl in her own bed."

	"Oh yes," I said, "you certainly are defenseless."

	"Maybe I was wrong about all rebels," she said, raising her 
knee up my thigh to rub at my genitals.

	"I'm barely a novice," I told her.  "My captain is ten times the 
man I am.  He beds three doxies a night without a fuss, satisfies 
every camp follower we have these days, and my friend George, 
well, I've seen him hard at for a full hour without breaking a sweat 
in a bedful of eager women."

	She smiled at my lies.

	"Or Michael, yes, he's the one you should meet, young 
Michael, barely seventeen, but his tool's like this long and solid 
ivory."  I held my hands a good foot apart.  "We usually have him 
pop open the maidens that flock to us, because he looks so innocent.  
They love him for it and come back for more, bringing their mothers 
and sisters with them."

	"Really," she said, tossing back the covers and diving at my 
groin, sucking in my swelling root, bathing it in her saliva and 
caressing it with her tongue, burying her nose in my hair.  When it 
was up and ready, she mounted like a good cavalryman, swinging 
her leg wide and finding a comfortable seat on my belly with my 
pintel buried in her and her back to my nose.  She dug her knees 
into my legs, slapped my flank and rode me over hill and dale, forest 
and fences, at every possible gait, until she had enough and fell upon 
my knees, spitting and moaning in her lusty effort.

	"Girl," I said when I could speak, "I'm satisfied for the 
moment.  What's on your menu today?"

	"You," she said, rolling about and grasping my shrunken 
stones and licking the length of my sodden prod.  It surprised me by 
quivering. I had thought it inert.

	It took her some time, but she managed to bring me to 
attention once more within the hour with the help of some soothing 
oils and a several glasses of red wine, and I managed to take her at 
the side of her bed, first from the back in a prayerful position and 
the then from the front while she lay back on the covers with her 
legs about my waist, grinning up at me as I sweated to please her.

	That done, and the young woman rolled up into a ball and 
mewled happily.  I quickly dressed, and went down to the kitchen.

	She found me there, casually clothed, and dragged me out into 
her garden with a half a cold chicken in my hand.  We sat in a 
gazebo and shared chicken and kisses.

	"Now," I said, as she licked my fingers, "let me tell you why I 
came to visit you."

	"Um," she said, slipping her hand into my codpiece and finding 
my resting member.

	"Now be patient," I said, popping a lush breast out of her 
loose dress and bending to kiss her rosy nipple, noting its soreness 
and my teeth marks.  "I want you to serve your people and the 
revolution."

	"What?" she squawked, gripping me hard.

	"You have contacts with many highly placed Brits, do you 
not?"

	She nodded and eased her grip as my blood filled cock jumped 
and throbbed, echoing my heart's pulse.

	"And, I am sure, you have heard all sorts of useful information 
from time to time, information General Washington might well profit 
from."

	She finished unbuttoning my foreflap and eased my rigid 
member out into the air.  There it stood, rising up, its head nearly 
crimson and its stalk thick with knotted veins, still growing and 
swelling.

	"I can hardly believe I've had that in me," she said to her self.  
Then she looked up at me and smiled.  "You want me to spy for 
you?"

	"In a way," I said.  "You collect the information, and I, or 
someone like me, will come and collect it from you."

	"And pay me for it?" she said, sitting on my knees, flipping up 
her ruffled dress's hem and inching forward, lower lip in her teeth.

	�That might be arranged," I said, pulling her to me and lifting 
her hips a bit to make my entry easier.

	I linked my hands behind her as she drove her body onto my 
spike.  And then, for some time, we were much too busy to discuss 
the revolution.  The gazebo was certainly well made, and although it 
rocked from side to side and swayed about, it held together though 
several permutations of our love making.  Eventually, I was on my 
knees before her, in her as far as my weapon could reach, and she 
was gasping and heaving her body in time with my efforts until we 
both had to admit we were done, incapable of any more for the 
time.

	We sat together, arm in arm, and she put her head on my 
chest.

	"It's dangerous, isn't it, what you are asking?"

	I nodded.  "It can be.  You must take care."

	"I'll do it," she said with a smile.  "I wouldn't if it were safe."

	"And your price?" I asked, stroking her firm thigh.

	"A real man in my bed, a man of blood and sinew, a man with 
six inches of iron to ram between his legs and the will to use it."

	"I'm not sure we have any men with that little, most are much 
better equipped," I said, repressing my smile.

	"I'll make do," she said with a giggle.  "We all must sacrifice."

	"Brave, that's what you are," I said, standing and helping her 
to her feet.  "Shall I give you a deposit on account?"

	"What, now?" she asked, really looking surprised.

	"Soon," I said, bending to kiss her and pulling her thin dress 
together over her lush bosom.

	So we adjourned to her bed and entertained each other.  Rose 
to dine lightly, retired to exhaust each other and sleep in each others 
arms.  And then came the morning.  I awoke with my usual immense 
gift from the gods of lust.  I could barely get my own hand about it 
at its base.  

	"Gloria," I said to the naked young woman beside me after I 
blew her hair from her lovely face and softly kissed her swollen lips.  
Her eyes opened.  She stretched.  "You do snore," she said.  
"Something awful.  I kicked you several times."

	"I have a present for you," I said, moving beside her so that 
the head of my prong rubbed her thigh.

	"Oh," she said, looking puzzled as my fat, tender head made 
its way up and over her thigh to plow though the hair of her groin 
and then nudged open her nether lips, seeking paradise.

	She reached down with one hand then the other and grasped 
it as I rolled atop her, up on knees and extended arms., smiling 
down at her worried face.

	She stroked the length of me and then drew back the skin on 
my shaft.  In it went at her direction, spreading her open, and then 
inch by thick and rigid inch, I penetrated her and her hands clawed 
at my back and buttocks as I began slow ins and outs, each one 
getting deeper.

	"You're splitting me," she gasped as the thick thing made way 
for itself in her.

	"You'll get used to it," I said, lowering myself to my elbows so 
I could enjoy the feel of her writhing body.

	"I don't think so," she said, starting to move her hips in 
concert with mine.

	But soon her legs were about me, our mouths were joined and 
we had begun a long morning of fleshy delight.

	When I got back to the Madam's abode, I was happy to rest 
for several days after reporting success.


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