came pulsing out of him in spurt after spurt until he was drained dry as the pasture in August.
When he came to himself again, it was to the sight of the stranger gripped with the same ecstasy, his hot seed spil ing on to Bess’ white buttocks and dripping down her thighs.
He turned away, his stomach revolting at the sight, and crept silently backward through the trees toward the lane.
The stranger had robbed him of Bess’ innocence, but he would not go unpunished. Somehow, he would find a way to make the man suffer for what he had done.
Though he had not been strong enough to rescue Bess, stil he would avenge her.
Bess sank to the moss-covered ground, her legs no longer able to hold her. Their lovemaking this morning had been explosive, born out of a desperate need to feel each other once again. There had been nothing calm or control ed about it—it had been al raw passion and desire.
Now that it was over, she felt nothing but a satisfied glow and a decided ache between her legs. They had wanted each other and now their wants were met. She, for one, had no regrets.
She rol ed over on to her back and stretched her arms above her head. “I suppose we had better pick some blackberries, and quickly now, if my mother is not to get suspicious.”
“I had rather nibble on you some more.” He reached out and bit her ear gently. “You are sweeter than blackberries.”
“Do you want my mother to turn you over to King George’s men?” she asked tartly. “She would do it, you know, if she knew what we had been doing.”
The threat was enough to make him silent.
She got to her feet and re-buttoned her bodice. “Come, you had better pick some blackberries with me.”
“On one condition.”
She raised her eyebrows at him. “Wel ?”
“You wil come to my bed tonight. As soon as night fal s.”
She scuffed the toe of her boot in the fal en leaves, her promise to her mother weighing on her mind. “I cannot come too early. I wil have to wait until my parents are abed.” She would take care at least that her mother did not find her out. It would only worry her, and to no avail.
Satisfied with her promise, he got to his feet and buttoned his breeches. “As soon as they retire for the night then, and not a moment later.”
“I wil be there, I promise.”
Hand in hand, they wandered further down the lane, Bess, at least, tossing blackberries furiously into the pail.
Though Jack picked plenty, he spent more time coaxing Bess into trying a particularly plump and juicy one than in fil ing the pail. By the time the pail was heavy enough to satisfy her mother, Bess’ mouth was stained purple with the ripe fruit, and both of them had purple fingers.
The house had been quiet for ten minutes or more before Jack, lying naked on his bed, heard the faint creaking of his door as it slowly opened.
He let out the breath he’d been holding. She’d come, then.
Back in the trees, he’d not been so sure of her.
He’d given her pleasure, had felt her pussy convulse around his cock as he held himself deep inside her, holding on to his control by the sheer force of his wil .
Only when she had shuddered in the final throes of her release had he pul ed out of her and let his seed erupt on to her ass. Though he was thoroughly satisfied, his orgasm had made him feel uncomfortably incomplete.
She wanted him to fuck her, but that was al she needed him for. She was holding out on him, keeping the essential part of her to herself.
Her heart would not break when he left to go a-plundering. The thought ought to make him glad, but instead it bothered him that her heart was so impervious.
Stil , she had come to him tonight. For now, that was al that mattered.
“Jack, are you awake?” Her whisper cut through the darkness.
“Awake and ready.” It was true. His cock, semi-stiff ever since he had retired to his room to
When he came to himself again, it was to the sight of the stranger gripped with the same ecstasy, his hot seed spil ing on to Bess’ white buttocks and dripping down her thighs.
He turned away, his stomach revolting at the sight, and crept silently backward through the trees toward the lane.
The stranger had robbed him of Bess’ innocence, but he would not go unpunished. Somehow, he would find a way to make the man suffer for what he had done.
Though he had not been strong enough to rescue Bess, stil he would avenge her.
Bess sank to the moss-covered ground, her legs no longer able to hold her. Their lovemaking this morning had been explosive, born out of a desperate need to feel each other once again. There had been nothing calm or control ed about it—it had been al raw passion and desire.
Now that it was over, she felt nothing but a satisfied glow and a decided ache between her legs. They had wanted each other and now their wants were met. She, for one, had no regrets.
She rol ed over on to her back and stretched her arms above her head. “I suppose we had better pick some blackberries, and quickly now, if my mother is not to get suspicious.”
“I had rather nibble on you some more.” He reached out and bit her ear gently. “You are sweeter than blackberries.”
“Do you want my mother to turn you over to King George’s men?” she asked tartly. “She would do it, you know, if she knew what we had been doing.”
The threat was enough to make him silent.
She got to her feet and re-buttoned her bodice. “Come, you had better pick some blackberries with me.”
“On one condition.”
She raised her eyebrows at him. “Wel ?”
“You wil come to my bed tonight. As soon as night fal s.”
She scuffed the toe of her boot in the fal en leaves, her promise to her mother weighing on her mind. “I cannot come too early. I wil have to wait until my parents are abed.” She would take care at least that her mother did not find her out. It would only worry her, and to no avail.
Satisfied with her promise, he got to his feet and buttoned his breeches. “As soon as they retire for the night then, and not a moment later.”
“I wil be there, I promise.”
Hand in hand, they wandered further down the lane, Bess, at least, tossing blackberries furiously into the pail.
Though Jack picked plenty, he spent more time coaxing Bess into trying a particularly plump and juicy one than in fil ing the pail. By the time the pail was heavy enough to satisfy her mother, Bess’ mouth was stained purple with the ripe fruit, and both of them had purple fingers.
The house had been quiet for ten minutes or more before Jack, lying naked on his bed, heard the faint creaking of his door as it slowly opened.
He let out the breath he’d been holding. She’d come, then.
Back in the trees, he’d not been so sure of her.
He’d given her pleasure, had felt her pussy convulse around his cock as he held himself deep inside her, holding on to his control by the sheer force of his wil .
Only when she had shuddered in the final throes of her release had he pul ed out of her and let his seed erupt on to her ass. Though he was thoroughly satisfied, his orgasm had made him feel uncomfortably incomplete.
She wanted him to fuck her, but that was al she needed him for. She was holding out on him, keeping the essential part of her to herself.
Her heart would not break when he left to go a-plundering. The thought ought to make him glad, but instead it bothered him that her heart was so impervious.
Stil , she had come to him tonight. For now, that was al that mattered.
“Jack, are you awake?” Her whisper cut through the darkness.
“Awake and ready.” It was true. His cock, semi-stiff ever since he had retired to his room to
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