An erotic tale by Logunede Jones

Don’t you think you could procure a blanket, and loosen my hands? No? Then it shall be as you wish, lieutenant. I will speak as to why you have encountered me here in these conditions. As you recall, you sent me on a reconnaissance mission to follow the rebel Captain Lewis with the purpose of determining where the Continental Army stores its ammunition. Captain Lewis’s imposing musculature and blond locks made him easy to spot from the grove of trees where I hid to spy on their regimental training technique. He led his men in jumping and running and wrestling on the field, before he called off their exercising for the day. Then I followed him down a wooded path to a remote clearing, to this very barn where we now sit, thinking this place to be, perhaps, a seeming storage for ammunition. The captain entered through the main door behind you, so I slipped around the side of the building to the back wall, behind where I am now, where there is only a thin strip of land, separated from a steep riverbank by a row of thorny hedge. Along the back wall I found a rotted-out opening between the planks where I could just manage to see that Captain Lewis was expected. I peeked through the boards to see him embracing a young Indian woman whom I had never seen before, her shiny black hair trailing down her back to her waist. I did not learn her name, but we can call her Necklace of Pearl, a name that will be most appropriate, as you shall hear. They kissed passionately while she began to undress him. It turns out that she had drawn a bath for him here in the barn, so he could refresh himself of his perspirations from the field maneuvers. She unbuttoned his jacket and tunic as he rolled her ample posterior between his knuckles. When she had his shirt off, the differences in his skin tone wrought by the sun’s angry rays were certainly evident, leaving him two-toned red and white, both colors contrasting markedly with the dark chestnut color of her skin. He almost tripped getting out of his breeches, which made his noble parts, already aroused, flop around in the open air beneath their crown of curly gold. His penis struck me as rather wide, and it was even…

My purpose, Sir, is to show you that I do indeed have a keen eye for detail, and that your trust in me for this mission was not misplaced. With your permission, I shall continue. Captain Lewis lowered himself into the bathing basin, over there to your right, which as you can see is a rather large, oblong one made of wood. Necklace of Pearl made as if to pour some of the warmed water onto his chest, but smiled piquishly as she let it run down her own, making transparent the thin cotton of her embroidered blouse and awakening her nipples. Then she did pour the bathwater on the captain, proceeding straightaway to lather his chest and what I could see of his legs sticking up over the rim of the basin. As she bent over him, he pulled her blouse down over her bosom, exposing her quite large and wet breasts to his ardent gaze. He did not know, yet, that he had exposed them to mine own eyes as well. He made to lick and suck them, cradling one at a time of her bounteous bosoms in both hands as to fondle them and knead them like dough.

At this moment there came a knock at the door, a rap that seemed to be a coded rhythm. Necklace of Pearl smiled. “’Tis the sergeant,” she said, “the man I’ve chosen for us this afternoon. Let him think he is alone, at first.”

Such was the captain’s haste that he did not bother to dry off his body, but only leapt from the basin in like manner as he came into the world, and crouched behind a hay bale not two feet in front of me, obstructing my vision of anything other than his glistening buttocks. I held my breath. I heard the sergeant enter and greet the girl. It seemed that the captain, at least, could see what was happening. Then there was only silence for some time, during which the captain, I could not help but observe, tugged repeatedly on his penis as it dangled between his legs, and pulled gently on his own sac. I was of a mind to follow his example, as I sat observing the pink pucker of the cleft between his buttocks perched just in front of my eyes, but I could risk no such movement to the possibility of discovery. I heard the splash of feet entering water, and began to assume that the sergeant was commencing where the captain had left off. ‘Twas a most confusing but intriguing state of affairs, as I’m sure you can imagine, Sir.

To my surprise, the captain suddenly leapt from his hiding place and bounded over to the basin, greeting the other man by name: it was Pierre Villepin, a French collaborator with the American rebels, as you, Sir, no doubt know already. I recognized his dark hair, mustache and goatee, and was surprised to note an abundance of hair on his chest. I expected Villepin to leap from the tub or somehow challenge the captain to fight for the young woman, but no such thing transpired. On the contrary, Villepin got to his feet in the basin and the two men embraced, it seemed to me they kissed, even, but I could see only that Villepin’s hands squeezed the buttocks that I had so intensely studied just moments before. Necklace of Pearl, who was now as bereft of clothing as the two men, joined their embrace, and, as if this were all the most natural thing in these American colonies, six wet hands busily set about to exploring the amassed terrain of thighs and buttocks, backs and breasts. Presently Villepin lowered himself back into the water, and the captain straddled the basin as if to sit on Villepin’s head, for this was to facilitate the Frenchman’s access to the pucker of pink that I myself had closely scrutinized. Villepin began to lick it and all its surrounding area, including the captain’s genitals, without letting his hands idle in these caresses. Necklace of Pearl leaned close to fondle, now the captain’s rapier, now Villepin’s, which I imagine must have been thrusting up out of the bathwater, and meanwhile the captain sucked her teats as ravenously as a newborn calf.

The arousal was such that the captain’s penis had grown immensely, to everyone’s mutual delight, as it was tugged and licked and bounced by all. My own body could not fail to respond, but the tightness of my breeches restricted my pleasure. Necklace of Pearl then straddled the basin, facing Villepin, who rose slightly to support himself with his hands on the sides of the tub and thus penetrate her eagerly and forcefully, sliding in and out and with each thrust splashing the warm water, which I imagine afforded him a delicious sensation between his buttocks. It was not lost on me that his member, also, appeared to be quite generous in proportions. Meanwhile, the Captain had taken a stand to the side of the basin, where Necklace of Pearl was heartily devouring his cock, running her lips along it from the base to the tip, which she would lick while moaning most pleasurably. There was such a general hullabaloo of moans and cries and splashes that I anticipated their activities to be imminently discovered.

At this point Villepin arose to kneel in the basin and Necklace of Pearl turned, still straddling the tub but now thrusting the beautiful profile of her derriere toward the Frenchman. He rejoined with her, this time from behind, but not without first beating her buttocks with his engorged member in the manner of a riding crop. The captain plunged merrily into the tub behind him, where he began regaling attentions on the regions of Villepin that correspond to the Frenchman’s previous affections on the person of the captain. The American’s fingers pulled apart Villepin’s cheeks and probed their exposed entryway, which he rightway began to savor with his tongue. Villepin had slowed the pace of his thrustings and arched his lower back, the better to accommodate the captain’s administrations which, as it soon became evident, were mere preliminaries to the act of sodomy. Sir, though I had heard sodomy described once by a prurient priest, I had never imagined that it would be modeled for my edification by such obviously practiced individuals. For surely the ease with which the captain’s member, large and wide as I have said, entered the sergeant’s anus, would not be matched by those endeavoring to accomplish such a coupling at first try. But enter it did, and the Frenchman—lucky Pierre!—continued to thrust forward into Necklace of Pearl’s muscular cleft while the captain, not too gently, I must note, thrust into him from behind while reaching underneath to cup the Frenchman’s flapping sac.

I don’t know whether it was the admirable realization that Villepin was so delightfully filled—not only by en engorged member so close to his own capably encompassed cock, but also filled as if with a spiritual possession evident on his enraptured face—or whether it was the deliciously rhythmic jostling of Necklace of Pearl’s pendulous, soapy breasts over the side of the wash basin, her downward pointing nipples forming a delicate counterweight to the profile of her upturned eyelashes and similarly enraptured countenance, but at some point my own bodily excitations exceeded my futile attempts to hamper them, and I ejaculated into my breeches. I must have groaned forcefully in the act, for at that moment the prodigious movements of the trio halted, and three pairs of eyes peered in my direction.

Reluctantly but quickly they uncoupled, and the two men ran out the main door. Still throbbing in my pantlegs, I realized I was helpless, for surely one man would run around each end of the barn, and the only place left for me to run was into the thorns and the creek beyond. But even as my member was still dribbling its final secretions into my breeches, the men were upon me from either side, their swollen organs lashing their thighs as they sprinted toward me, naked under the sun. Very quickly and efficiently they apprehended me, the captain by the wrists and the sergeant by the ankles, and were carrying me into the barn already when the Frenchman noticed the stain on my breeches.

“What is it you call yourself?”

I could not respond, entranced by my view of the man’s jiggling genitals.

“Your name, lad,” called Captain Lewis over his shoulder, “and be quick.”

“Tom,” I answered, glancing up at the American’s buttocks, which jutted out prominently above me.

“Peeping Tom, it is, you little redcoat rat. Your curiosity will not go unrequited.”

And then they brought me in here, removed every stitch of my clothes, and tied me to the chair from which you still have not released me, Sir.

All of us nude, the three of them stood observing me. Villepin said, “This peeping Tom, mais dejá has exploded with his juicy pleasures.”

“Let’s endeavor to make him drain himself more completely,” said the Captain.

Necklace of Pearl smiled and reached out to toy with my already erect penis, but the captain gently withdrew her hand. “Look, but not touch,” he told her. “And not a sound from you,” he growled at me, “or I will gag you with my soiled stockings.”

At that, the Indian leaned over toward Villepin, enclosing his organ in her hair like a cascade, rubbing it within some of her perfumed locks as it began to regain its previous tumescence. With her behind she rubbed the captain’s groin, and he began to finger the lips of her genitals. Using one hand to position her in front of me, Captain Lewis proceeded to open her lips as near as he could to my face, stroking each lip between his fingers and looking at me with arched eyebrows as if to see that I were paying attention to his instruction. He entered one of his fingers, which disappeared up to its base, then another, and then another until he had three fingers inside her, which he rotated vigorously. When he withdrew them she moaned, releasing Villepin momentarily from her hair, and the captain passed his fingers under my nose, for me to sniff them, before thrusting them into his own mouth. Then he squatted to kiss her there, and began to run his tongue all over her inner thighs before slipping it into her glistening crevice, where he licked and pushed repeatedly, all the while massaging her graceful hips in his hands.

Then he stood, and manipulating the tip of his penis to press on her swollen petals from the outside, he rubbed the length of the growing organ between her thighs and slid it over her bottom. In tantalizing feints, he came near to entering her several times, before he finally did, to the very hilt. She gasped and released again Villepin’s member, which dropped and snapped, bouncing in anticipation outside her mouth. When she had recovered she engulfed Villepin’s penis in her mouth, sucking the entire length of the shaft as she swung fore and aft from the captain’s insertions. This was all happening as close as possible to my own face and body without touching me. As you can see, my member has stirred merely with the telling of it. You can imagine, that with no breeches to swaddle it in my condition, at the time this was happening it was already as erect as a flagpole. It seems that you sport a growing bulge as well, Sir.

His hands grasping the width of Necklace of Pearl’s shapely bottom, the captain varied his rhythm and swept his gaze from Villepin to me to his own cock as it slid in and out of its tight sheath. The sergeant, meantime, began to thrust gently through Necklace of Pearl’s lips as she pulled lightly on his sac and caressed his thighs and buttocks. But the thrusting on both ends grew faster, until the ebb and flow of bouncing breasts and buttocks became as agitated as the stormy seas. All chins pointed further and further upward, all respiration became frenetic panting. By some sign unknown, the men withdrew, and Necklace of Pearl kneeled between them, right in front of me. The men both cuffed their cocks in a frenzy, and my eyes popped as first one, then the other, began to spurt his ammunition onto the beautiful Indian’s breasts, forming white streaks that drizzled down over her nipples. I strained against my ties, but it was too much. My own member, jerking about and flailing helplessly, began to spray its load just like the firehose I saw once in Philadelphia, swishing to and fro as it gushes. Having no way to aim, I splashed the captain’s thigh and the Indian’s face, although I did manage to make my mark on her bosom as well. In this way I added a British contribution to an international bounty that became the baptism for the name I have given the Indian, Necklace of Pearl.

After that, the men helped Necklace of Pearl to her feet, and the three embraced and kissed passionately before tenderly cleansing the woman’s chest. They engaged in idle chatter as they dressed, ignoring me. Only Captain Lewis, as they were all leaving, muttered something about letting one of my superiors know my whereabouts, and this must be how you came to find me here. Now that you know the story, let me free, Sir, and I’ll promise to keep secret the wet spot I see now on your breeches.

No related posts.