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From: oldbill2@comcast.net
Subject: {ASSM} Rebel 049 Miller (MMFf)
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Date: Thu, 20 May 2004 16:10:01 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Rebel 049.txt" begin>

Rebel 049 (MMFf hist)

The Miller's Family

	I am not sure who brought us information about the Tory 
miller, but whoever it was, I owe him a debt of sincere gratitude.  
The lieutenant detailed George and me to go out with an empty 
wagon and to bring it back filled with flour, no excuses acceptable.  
So that was what we did, at least what we set out to do, and when 
we followed the directions and crude map we had been given, we 
found the mill.  It was well built of local stone and had an overshoot 
wheel.  We could actually hear it groaning before we saw the thing.

	Then came the surprise, the miller was not at home but his 
lissome wife and buxom daughter were.  While George flirted with 
the girl, I told the woman of our charge.  She smiled me a good 
smile, said, "Take what you want.  I'll tell him I had no choice; big, 
strong men like you two, armed and all and no way for two weak 
women to prevent you taking whatever."  She smiled.  "Whatever 
you want."

	I nodded, gave her the quartermaster's requisition, and we 
began loading the wagon with hundred pound barrels of well-milled 
white flour.  By sunset we were done and the lady of the house 
offered us a meal which we enjoyed along with a bottle of sweet 
home-made wine of some sort, blackberry maybe.  Then George and 
the girl, whose name I have completely forgotten, scurried off to the 
loft, all but panting to be at each other.

	The woman, whose name was Portia, smiled at me as she 
washed her plates and trenchers.  "Nice to be young, ain' it?" she 
said, pushing her hair from her face with the back of her hand.  We 
could hear the panting from above.  The front of her dress gaped 
invitingly and our hips rubbed together now and again.

	I agreed and dried what she handed me, feeling myself rapidly 
hardening.  Then she took my hand, kissed my knuckles, and we 
adjourned to her sturdy bed, blew out the lamp and stripped out of 
all our clothes in record time.  The very first thing she said to me 
when we pried out sweaty bodies apart fifteen or twenty minutes 
later, was, "This here's the first time I been glad m'man's a damnfool 
Tory."

	Her ripe, lush body responded to my caresses and kisses, and 
we soon clamped ourselves together again, heaving and lunging, 
listening to the ropes beneath us complain, and achieving another 
fine, shuddering climax that left us both breathless.  While we 
rested, my spent cock in her hand, we could hear George and the 
girl steadily thumping and moaning above us.

	"He's been known to swive for an hour straight," I told the 
woman. "Hope he wont hurt her."

	"She's well practiced," she sighed, "been at it a couple a'years 
with the local swains.  Bundlin' she calls it.  Miracle she ain' had a 
young`un.  Can't tell `er nothing, that girl."

	We slept for a spell, and she poked me awake some time deep 
in the night to complain of my snoring and get me to turn over. Since 
I awoke with a fine erection, I took the opportunity to mount her 
again, and she did not complain about the intrusion, which, I must 
admit, did not last long.

	George woke me in the gray of morning by shaking my 
shoulder, nodding toward the loft with his finger to his lips and 
taking my place beside the warm, sleeping woman with a smile on his 
face.  "Tight piece," he whispered as he slid past me.  I climbed the 
ladder with my prod poking up toward the rafters to find the nubile 
young woman sitting up in her blankets, sniffing and, I suppose 
feeling abandoned and sorry for herself.  She greeted my naked 
body with open arms and quickly found my overheated root.

	"Glory," she whispered to my mouth.  "That's a monster."

	I kissed her while I squeezed her firm, young breast and rolled 
her onto her back, knees spread wide and feet flat on the floor.  She 
got both hands on my leaping spear as I knelt between her legs.  
"Don' know if I can."

	"Let's try," I suggested, lifting her thighs.  "You can keep hold 
of it if you want."

	It was indeed a narrow slit I found and a moist but tiny 
opening.  My member's sensitive head prodded itself in, popped 
through the entrance, and I heaved forward my hips and 
penetrated her viscous quim to the place where she held tight to my 
throbbing shaft.  She made a very odd sound, but her body 
responded to my endeavors and her womanly hips lifted to meet my 
constricted lunges.  I grabbed her butt and we went on like that for 
some time, both enjoying the friction and the feel of our bodies 
grinding each other despite having a small fist clenched between us, 
but then she squealed, threw wide both her arms and I sheathed my 
ram to the hilt in her narrow, juicy cunny, another three inches I 
suppose, battering at her immature womb.  She gasped and writhed 
beneath me, eyes closed in the pre-dawn gloom, and I enjoyed her 
until I came, pumping out my swollen ballocks' load with explosive 
energy.  She sighed and went limp.

	When I withdrew my sodden pike, she turned away from me, 
sniveling and moaning, pulling up her knees and making herself 
small.  Down below us, I could hear George plowing away and the 
big bed squeaking with metronomic regularity.  I was still hard and 
unsatisfied, so I snuggled close, kissed her neck, grabbed her 
breasts and got my rearing weapon up between her small, round 
buttocks.  It took some prying, but I finally got it lodged and slid in 
a few inches.

	The girl groaned and got to elbows and knees with her rump 
raised and her head down.  I bent over her and had at her until I 
was spent and she was near collapse.  We staggered down and 
stirred up the fire and got some breakfast started while George and 
Portia continued to thrash about beneath the quilts, a tireless beast 
with two backs, both of them arched like bows.

	The sun was well up when George left with a full load of flour, 
and I got busy loading more barrels and hammering on their lids.  
The women fed me early in the afternoon and when Portia went out 
to work in her kitchen garden, I took the girl to the big bed, and we 
romped together for quite a spell, my thick rod stretching her young 
cunny.  I let her mount me and enjoyed watching it slide in and out 
beneath her small puff of hair, glistening and tireless, while the girl 
drooled with passion, rearing and bouncing on my stake like I was a 
half-broke horse.  I hoped I was stretching her for more fun later.

	About sundown, with a long row of filled barrels to show for 
the day's work, I was resting on my shovel when the miller himself 
returned along with a covered supply wagon and a couple of hefty 
Redcoats.  I set my shovel aside and primed my musket as the 
scrawny mill owner and one of the Brits went into the house while 
the other drove the wagon to the loading dock.  He surely looked 
surprised when I gigged him on my bayonet and drove him back 
against the wall, nailing him there with his feet barely touching the  
floor.  When he quit squirming, I pulled my big blade loose and let 
him fall.  He had only made gurgling sounds so I knew I still could 
surprise the other soldier and add him to my butcher's bill.

	When the second Redcoat came looking for the first, I broke 
his skull open with a ten-pound sledge.  It made a very satisfying 
sound, like driving a post, and he fell as if he were boneless.  Since 
he was wearing stripes, I turned him over with my toe and found 
his purse before I dragged him to lie by the other body.  Then I sat 
and waited some more, my blood up and bile in my throat, my hand 
holding my hardened prod.

	The miller, finally curious, showed up a while later along with 
both his wife and daughter.  I accosted him as he came through the 
door, poking the tip of my bayonet into his thin middle.

	"Don' kill `im," squealed his wife.  "Don' kill him."

	"Who the hell are you?" the miller asked in a shaky voice, his 
hands raised.

	I glanced at the women, and they shook their heads 
conspiratorially.  "Soldier," I said, "come to confiscate your flour for 
our army.  These ladies, they didn't have any choice."

	He looked at his wife sourly, and then back at me.  "You 
cleaned us out?" he asked.

	"Pretty near," I said.  "You been stealing from your neighbors, 
haven't you? I looked at your books."

	He clamped his mouth shut.  I tied him up and dumped him in 
a corner.  "I'll be gone tomorrow.  My buddy will be here with 
another wagon then."

	"Leave the women alone," he squeaked as I took his wife's 
elbow.

	"Of course," I said, scratching at my stones for his benefit.  
The girl went off to her loft and the woman and I got comfortable 
with each other in her big bed, my eager cock in her hand.

	"You won't hurt him, will you?" she whispered.	

	I kissed her.  "Not if that's what you want," I said.

	"This is what I want," she sighed, squeezing hard.  She got it 
in, deep and hard, and when we finally decided to sleep, we were  
both well satisfied.  In the early morning I brought my upright 
condition to her attention, and she smiled at me, spread her legs and 
welcomed me into her warm body inch by hoehandle-thick and 
over-heated inch.

	"Oh," she gasped, "that's a terrible thing."  She lifted her 
knees higher and I pushed them back toward her shoulders and 
sank my long pike all the way into her.  We arched and heaved 
together, grunting with effort until she spasmed, clamped hard on 
my straining member and climaxed repeatedly before collapsing, 
seemingly insensate.  I withdrew my dripping mast and stumbled to 
the ladder.

	"Hurry," the girl hoarsely whispered from above.  I hurried, 
scraping my pike's head on the rungs a time or two as I did.  "I liked 
being on top," she told me when I rolled under the quilt.  I held the 
base of the long, soggy thing, and she lowered herself gingerly on it, 
easing her way down to my belly with her hands grasping my 
shoulders, her young breasts dangling.  I licked my lips.

	When George arrived, he helped me drag the bodies back in 
the woods after taking their boots and ammunition, and then we 
loaded up both wagons, flipped a coin and he went off to roger 
Portia while I brought the girl out to the barn where her father 
could enjoy watching us pleasure each other if he wanted to.  After 
that, both of us thoroughly spent, we went back to the war.
<1st attachment end>


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