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From: oldbill2@comcast.net
Subject: {ASSM} Rebel 055 Widow (MFff)
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Date: Mon, 24 May 2004 16:10:01 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Rebel 055.txt" begin>


Rebel 055 (Old Bill) (MFff hist)

The Poor Old Widow

"Now," said the madam, "I want you to go visit this woman, 
the poor dear, she's had such a hard time, and do what you can for 
her.  She is a widow of this war.  I just found out last week."

	"Yes'm," I said, knuckling my forehead.

	"And bathe first, shave and get one the girls to cut your hair 
so you won't look so bearlike."

	"Yes'm," I said with a nod.

	"And put on some clean linen for goodness sakes."

	"Yes'm."

	"And polish your boots."

	I fled, did as I had been told and about sunset arrived at the 
woman's home which was deep within the area controlled by the 
British and their lackeys, domestic as well as foreign.

	The poor, old widow met me in the lean-to summer kitchen of 
her sturdy home, pushed her long hair from her fine face, looked me 
up and down and smiled, sticking out her hand.  "The madam has a 
fine sense of humor," she said, waving me to a chair.  She might 
have been forty but I doubt it.

	
 She poured me some very pale whisky, put some bread and 
honey butter before me and then called, "Alma, get down here; you 
too Harriet; be quick."

	In jig time, two luscious young women appeared, reasonably 
disheveled with rags tied about their heads and aprons about their 
waists.  My cock immediately came alive.  They curtsied to me, both 
grinning like the proverbial cat, and said they were glad to meet me 
while I was still climbing to my feet and bobbing my head.  Both 
gave me a firm, strong handshake and both looked at me as a good 
farmer might assess a plowhorse at a fairday sale.

	"They have been working," their mother said.  "It's unusual, 
but they have.  Sit girls."

	They sat quickly, one on each side of me, hands in laps, and 
then their mother pushed up her sleeves and sat opposite me, an 
odd smile on her face.  "We have been having," she said, "let's say, 
a problem with men, several problems in fact.  The three of us seem 
to be the only eligible females for miles about, all the others having 
vanished at the enemy's approach I suppose, and we have, almost 
daily, been fending off the increasingly - ah - vigorous entries of 
Redcoats, Hessians," she made a wry face, "and Tory officers as 
well the occasional depredations of their men who have raided our 
orchard, stripped our corn field and stolen two work horses.  
Several men have attempted to call on me and nearly a score on 
these two," she looked from one to the other, smiling with pride, 
"these vain young critters of dubious virtue."

	"I see," I said as each of the girls sitting beside me put a slim 
hand on my thighs, just resting there, very calm.  Their mother 
raised a curved eyebrow and the hands withdrew quickly.

	"These two," the mother said, "as you can see, are of courting 
age and they both think me cruel and horrid to refuse to let them 
associate with the young men who appear with such great 
regularity, all bearing presents and all asking only to sit and chat 
with them in our small parlor.  Under strict supervision, of course. 
Or take them to a rout, or out riding in a carriage.  You 
understand."

	The girls both nodded and both sniffed, looking at me from 
the corner of their eyes.  They were, judging by their dimples, 
suppressing smiles. Despite their work clothes, they looked and 
smelled wonderful, soft and rounded, young and more than ready.

	"How can I help you?" I asked innocently.

	Harriet, the girl on my right, guffawed and put her hands 
over her mouth.  Her sister, a year or two younger, blushed.  Their 
mother took a breath and held my eyes.  "We will talk about that," 
she said.

	A knock rattled the front door.

	"Come," the woman said, "this one's a bit late.  Sun's about 
down, but you will see what I mean.  They are the only ones that 
use the front door."

	I went to the door with her and stood behind her when she 
opened it.  There stood three young, carefully dressed and 
immaculately groomed royal officers, hats under their arms, belts 
glowing, swords gleaming, boots like mirrors.

	"Madam," said the lieutenant in front as he made a leg, and 
then he saw me, "who the hell is this?"  He put his hand on the 
ornate hilt of his hanger and his ruddy face flushed still redder. He 
smelled of spirits.

	"I am the lady's brother," I said gruffly, "the girls' uncle.  
What is it you want?"

	His eyes got rather big; he cleared his throat and shuffled his 
feet.  "Just brought a present," he said, swallowing, "some good 
woolen cloth." He handed the woman a small bolt of plaid.

	"No, I thank you," she said, giving it back.  "We do not accept 
gifts from such as you."

	"What!" the young officer squeaked, "I say, that's . . ." and he 
looked up at me.  I gave him a nasty smile.

	"You heard the lady, boys," I said.  "Good evening."  I took 
her elbow and she closed the door in their faces.  I threw the rasp 
with needless force.

	"Will they leave?" I asked as we went back toward the 
kitchen, her hand in the crook of my arm.

	She leaned against me, trembling a bit.  "Always wanted a 
brother," she whispered.

	"See, see," said Alma, "she just shoos they away."

	"We don't even have a chance," whined Harriet, pouting. 
"And that was a lovely plaid."

	I resumed my chair and the woman poured me another inch of 
whisky.

	"We all must sacrifice," I said, trying not to sound pompous.

	"Foo," said Harriet, a frown on her lovely face.  "It wouldn't 
hurt to talk to them."

	"It would encourage them," I said.  "Make their life easier, 
more pleasant."

	'But, but," said Alma, "but that can't be wrong.  We are 
Christians, after all.  What do you do?" she asked me suddenly.  
"Who are you?"

	"I'm a soldier, a Continental," I said.  "My job is to kill them, all 
of them that will not leave."

	"Oh," they both said, taken aback, blinking.

	"Goodnight, girls," their mother said.  "He and I must talk. 
You may read for a while."
	
	They rose, kissed her cheek, glanced at me, smiled and hurried 
away, jabbering at each other, petticoats and pinafores flapping.

	"I don't envy you," I said.

	She just shook her head.  "They say my man was killed up 
north, with Montgomery.  They buried him in Canada."

	"That's been a while," I said.

	"Yes," she agreed, "they've both ripened since he's been 
gone."

	"Hard to put a lid on that."

	She nodded.   "They were raped a year or so ago, when these 
beasts first came through here, both of them, viciously, right here in 
the house."

	"Germans?"

	She nodded.

	"They're lucky to be alive."

	"I know.  They used me too. Broke a couple of ribs doing it"

	I held her hand.  She took a deep breath.  "My old friend sent 
you here to, well, to be the man in the house for a bit.  Not a 
brother or an uncle either."

	I nodded.  "How old are they?"

	She smiled. "Harriet is sixteen, almost seventeen now; her 
sister is fourteen.  She was twelve when she was attacked, but she 
seems to have recovered, and I fear she is now completely boy 
crazy."

	"And no boys except the foe."

	She nodded.

	"You want me to bed them?"

	"I think so," she said.  "If they'll have you.  You are surely the 
largest man they've ever seen."

	The back door burst open, smashing back on its flimsy hinges, 
and the British lieutenant who had brought the woolen cloth stood 
in the doorway, weaving from side to side, obviously drunk to the 
point of falling down.  He must have emptied a flask in a great 
hurry.  Behind him I could see the eyes and outline of the other two 
young men.

	"Here, y'harridan," said the young officer, throwing the plaid 
cloth on the floor, "he don' look like no brother to me."

	I stood quickly and faced him, opening my hands to show they 
were empty.  I looked over his head.  "Why don't you men take him 
out of here?" I asked them.

	"He's a leftenant," one of them said as if that explained it.  The 
wobbling man managed to get his sword from its scabbard after two 
or three tries.  He waved it in my general direction, his eyes 
unfocused.

	"I wan' those young bitches," he pronounced carefully.  "Want 
`em right now, ri'here." He pointed his blade at the floor unsteadily.

	"Not likely," I said, and he took a swing at me that nicked the 
kitchen table.  I grabbed his wrist and twisted.  I kept twisting until 
the saber dropped to the floor, and then I pushed him out the back 
door and into the arms of his mates.  "Gentlemen," I said quietly, 
"please take him back to camp."

"No," said one, breathing out the smell of rum, "it ain' right."  
He made to draw his weapon, and I hit him hard, deep into the 
middle of his chest.  He oofed out his wind and dropped to his 
knees.  I stepped on his blade and broke it in half.

	"Here," the other youngster cried, letting go of his officer and 
producing a pistol from somewhere, the back of his belt I suppose.  
Since it was not cocked, I simply twisted it from his grip and threw it 
out into the growing darkness.  He looked annoyed, blinking at me.

	"Go on, now," I said, "before someone gets hurt."

	The lieutenant turned aside and vomited explosively, bent 
double and heaving out his guts.

	"Go," I said a bit louder.  They went weaving down the lane 
and back toward the road, the pair of subalterns supporting the 
moaning man between them.

	"See," the woman said as I got her door back in place and 
wedged it closed.  "You've been useful already.  I'm not sure I could 
have faced down those three."

	"Maybe you should move," I said as she blew out the candle 
on the table.  She took my elbow and led me toward the stairs.

	"No place to go," she said.  "They would tear the house apart 
if we weren't here.  That was the first time anyone's broken in 
since," she shuddered,  "since we were savaged."

	"Then you do need a man," I said as we mounted the steps.  
"Don't you have suitors?"

	"Lights out, girls" she said on the landing.

	"We heard people," a young voice said from behind the door 
on our right.

	"Who was there?" the other asked.

	"Go to sleep," said their mother.  "It was nothing, nothing at 
all, animals."

	The light under the door vanished, and the woman led me into 
her bedroom and closed the door.  She turned into my arms, rose, 
put her hands behind my head and kissed me hard and long.  Her 
lean body felt wonderful on mine.

	"It was nothing," she said again when she freed her mouth.  
"Now, we must be as quiet as can be." I held her buttocks and she 
ground her belly against me.

	We undressed quickly and rolled into her high bed and then 
our bodies found each other.  The bed had planks rather than ropes 
for support under a pair of thin mattresses, and when we joined and 
heaved together, they rumbled and groaned a bit, but we ignored 
the noise and just gloried in our passion, bouncing rather wildly.  
One shuddering orgasm was not enough for either of us, and our 
second joining was much longer, more complicated and much more 
fulfilling.  When I finally spent myself in her again and rolled away, 
we both were sweaty and happy, gasping for breath.

	"By damn," she said quietly when she regained her breath, "I 
do believe you are right; I need a man."

	"Ah," I managed, patting her thigh, "perhaps a platoon."

	She giggled and punched me in the ribs.

	We slept.

	I awoke, terribly engorged and feeling that I was being 
watched.  When I opened an eye, I saw a girl in a long nightgown 
standing beside the bed, one hand to her lips, her hair a tumble of 
curls. It was barely dawn.  I looked to my right, past her mother's 
hip, and there was the other one, similarly dressed and staring at my 
middle where the quilts were tented up.

	I nudged the softly snoring woman and pushed my rampant 
rod under my thigh.  "We have company," I whispered in her ear.

	The girl on my side crawled in beside me and the other one 
wriggled in beside her mother.  It was a bit crowded.
 	The woman looked at me and wrinkled her forehead.  "Girls," 
she said after clearing her throat.  "What do you think you are 
doing?"

	"Aren't you going to share him?" asked the one who was 
raking through my chest hair.  "We heard you last night."

	"You're just stingy," said her sister, who was up on one 
elbow, watching with interest as the quilt was being pushed down. 
Since both her mother and I were naked, I turned to pull the quilt 
higher on the woman's side and suddenly I was bare to the knees 
and my prong sprang up like a bent willow sapling.

	"My god," said the girl beside me as the rigid thing waved 
about, its fat head about the color of a Concord grape, its thick shaft 
knotted with blue veins.  The younger one fell right out of bed, and 
they both ran out the door, nightshirt hems in their hands, looking 
horrified.

	"What caused that?" their mother asked, and then she rose a 
bit and saw the thick prod sticking up between my legs, trembling 
with anticipation.  "Oh my," she said.  'That is frightening."

	I looked at it.  She was right.

	The woman rolled over, pulled up her knees and raised her 
rump.  "Better start this way," she said with a smile.

	We did.

	A half-hour or so later, when we went down to breakfast, the 
two girls had finished theirs and were about their chores out in the 
barn with the chickens and the cow.  The woman fed me well and 
then the girls returned to sit with us.	

	"Do you know how to shoot?" I asked them.

	They shook their curly heads.

	"Let's go learn," I said and led them out to the barn.  I 
produced two British-issue pistols from my saddlebag, loaded both 
with minimal charges and showed them how the guns worked.  One 
by one, I had them cock and aim at a nearby tree, holding the 
weapon with both hands and keeping both eyes open.  "Aim low," I 
suggested, "and squeeze."

	Harriet fired, jaw clamped tightly closed and hit the hickory 
near its roots.  Alma closed her eyes, turned away and missed the 
tree completely, firing up into its leaves.

	We did it again and this time they loaded, cocked and fired, 
both striking the tree's trunk and scattering bark.  I praised them 
shamelessly and made them do it again.  Then we sat on the back 
stoop and I gave them fatherly advice and showed them how to 
change flints and clean the weapons.

	"If you have to use the pistol, don't threaten, just shoot," I 
said.

	They nodded.

	"And aim for his belly.  Men are very protective of their lower 
parts."

	They giggled.

	"Keep your eyes open, both eyes.  The closer the better.  I 
would have trouble hitting the barn from here."

	"Really?" Harriet said.  "Let's see."  She handed me her pistol.

	I crooked my left arm before me, squeezed the barrel at my 
elbow, said, "Third board from the left corner, knee high," and 
fired.  My ball kicked up dirt to the right of the target and they both 
whooped.

	"Got him on the bounce," I said, reloading.

	They laughed, slapping their knees in pleasure.

	"Now, girls," I said, "let's go upstairs and play a different 
game."

	"Oh, no," said Alma.  Harriet just shook her head.

	"You sure?" I asked.

	They both nodded, and their mother called them away for 
some chores.

	After our supper, Harriet, the older girl, came and took my 
hand.  I followed her up the steps without a word and into her 
room.  She closed the door behind us and then stood with her 
hands folded before her.  "I'd like to try," she said calmly.

	"Would you," I said, stepping closer so that our bodies almost 
touched.  She was only a bit more than five feet high so she had to 
look up to see my smile.

	"Uh huh," she said, "if you promise to stop when I say stop 
and not to, well, not to come inside me.  I don't want to have a baby 
or anything."

	"That sounds fair," I said, playing with her stay strings, just 
fiddling as I hardened.  "If you promise not to go talking to your 
sister about what we do."

	She nodded and smiled.

	"Can I see it again?" she asked.

	I ignored her request, unbuttoned her bodice and tossed it 
away.  She unlaced her small set of stays while I sat and pulled off 
my boots.  She got out of her skirt while I shed my britches.

	"Go sit on the side of your bed," I told her, and she hopped 
up and faced me, hands in her lap.  I came and stood before her, my 
filling weapon hidden by my shirttail.  I bent and kissed her sweetly, 
grasping her chin, the phrase 'like a brother' ran through my mind.  
She kissed me back, holding my shoulders as she did.

	I stood up straight and my prong rose in the flap of my shirt 
until its head was pointed up at her nose.  I looked down and she 
followed my gaze and gasped.

	"Oh my," she said.  She reached out a finger and touched it.  
She pushed its head down and watched it spring back up.

	"Feel it," I suggested, standing with my hands clasped behind 
me, fighting for self-control, aware of the pulse surge in my root.

	She soon had two small hands on it and then looked up at me.  
"It's very warm," she said.

	"Blood," I told her.  "It's full of blood."

	She nodded and licked her lips.  I stepped closer, flipped up 
the hem of her shift and stepped between her knees, my weapon 
well hidden.  Her hands clamped on my forearms and my hands 
came to her hips.  I kissed her again and said, "Are you sure?"

	She nodded, and I lifted her a bit and rubbed the head of my 
prod between her legs.  She was wet.  I guided it to her entrance 
with my fingers and popped in its spongy head.  My horn was long 
and plainly ready to sink into her. Her lips were engorged and 
enfolding my manhood.

	"Ugh" she said, putting her head on my chest.

	I pushed at the same time I pulled her toward me.  "Lift your 
legs," I told her.  She did and it sank to the very hilt, surprising us 
both I believe.

	I heard the door open behind me and knew who it was.  The 
door closed quietly and her sister came and stood beside us.

	
 "Are you doing it?" she asked, looking from Harriet to me.

	The girl took a deep breath and said, "Yes, now get out of 
here."

	"Doesn't it hurt?" Alma demanded, backing away.

	Harriet shook her head.  "Go," she said.

	Alma went, and Harriet fell back on her quilts.  We began to 
heave together, and I soon climbed up on the bed, pulled her lean 
legs above my thighs and brought her to a spasming climax that had 
her shaking her head from side to side and spraying spittle as she 
cried out in pleasure.

	I slowed the pace, eased her legs down and mounted her 
normally, up on my elbows as my root still moved within her, in and 
out, in and out, seemingly tirelessly, stimulating her sensitive nub 
with each stroke.

	She recovered her senses and looked up at me, licking her lips 
and groaning.  "I've never," she started to say and then her eyes 
widened and she came again, undulating and gasping steadily for a 
full minute I'm sure, clamping convulsively on my prod.  She 
collapsed, and I withdrew and flopped down beside her, still hard.

	After a few minutes, she pulled up her knees and drew a quilt 
over herself.  I quickly dressed and went down to the kitchen.  Her 
mother raised an eyebrow at me as I went out the back door.  I 
found Alma, the younger girl, out in the barn, dry firing her pistol.

	"I bet'cha I could do it too," she said to me.  "If Harriet can, so 
can I."

	"You sure?" I said, sitting on a keg and pulling her to my lap.  
She put her arms about my neck and kissed my cheek.  I kissed her 
mouth and palmed her small, round breast.

	She pushed my hand away.

	"When?" I asked.

	"Right now," she said.

	I put her on her feet, undid my foreflap and eased out my 
flaccid member. I had not ejaculated with her sister, and it was still 
about halfway riled.  "Kneel down," I said and stroked it some.  
"Give it a kiss if you want."

	"Ew," she said, tickling my prong and enlivening its sensitive 
head.

	I raised her chin and captured her mouth while she petted me 
with both hands.  My phallus hardened and rose quickly.  I sat up 
straight and put her on my knees, my rising prick beneath her skirts, 
her feet dangling.

	"Scoot forward and get up on your toes," I said, pulling her 
firm buttocks toward me.  She did as I suggested and my hungry 
monster found a tiny opening, a very tight ring, and plonked itself 
though and into a slippery cavern of pulsing muscle.

	She made a noise in her throat as she sat down on it, her belly 
grinding into mine.  Her face nuzzled into my neck and we began to 
move together.

	"That's not so bad," she said, bouncing gently on me, impaling 
herself at her own pace. Because of our position, she probably had 
less than half the shaft in her.

	"I'm glad you like it," I said, petting her back and wriggling a 
bit from side to side.

	We bucked and thrust a bit harder.  Soon she was crying out 
in time with our effort, "Yes, oh yes, please, please, ah, ah, ah, ah."

	
 And then she leaned back against my grip and creamed, 
flooding us with her juices and flailing her curls about her face.  
When she calmed, I helped her stand on shaky legs and step back 
off my spear.  I tucked it away before she could see it again, stood, 
straightened my clothes and got us both a drink from the well.  She 
clung to me and we got our breath back and then entered the 
kitchen.

	"Progress," I told the woman and the girl ran up the stairs 
and, I am sure, compared notes with her sister.

	I stayed three more days, enjoying myself, and left the girls 
and the woman well satisfied as well as somewhat better armed.

<1st attachment end>


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