Kill The President's Women (Joe The Magic Man Series Book 2)

by Allan J. Lewis

  Morris ducked another punch, saying, “I’m a wee bit jealous so all I want to know is how you managed it.”

  They were both moving in a circle now, sizing each other up.

  “Keep that trap shut!” Johnny said, as he tried a jab and missed.

  “Did you play games with them last night?” Morris asked, adamantly.

  Both of them kept moving in a circle jabbing at thin air while Jean and Steve-e-Joe watched with their jaws agape.

  Morris asked, “Did you say, oh, let’s see who can make the biggest tent pole, and then ask Jean to feel whose tent pole is the best?”

  “Right, that’s it!” Johnny growled. He spat into the palms of his hands, rubbed them together, and then formed his fists again. He took a neat step forward, swung two haymakers at Morris, catching him and causing him to fall over in the grass.

  Johnny stood over Morris and glowered. He said angrily, “Call yourself my friend and then you go and slag my niece off.” He kicked his legs. “Get up Morris, I’m going to teach you a serious lesson in manners.”

  “Oh shut up you old fool,” Morris retorted, holding up his hand to be pulled up. “I won’t tell a soul if you let me back in the tent; there’s room for four of us.”

  “Piss off!” Johnny said, pulling him up and pointing to the centre of the camp. “Go check the camp, and not a word about my niece and your dirty thoughts.”

  Morris came closer. “I won’t tell anyone that Jean isn’t your niece. I don’t want to spoil a good thing for you; I just want to be part of it. I know you’re a cunning bugger and you convinced the lad to let you shag his wife. I bet the three of you were at it all night.” He took a few steps back before he whispered. “It’s not the first time we’ve shared a woman Johnny, so come on, let me back in the tent.”

  Steve-e-Joe caught Jean’s hand and they walked out of the tent after hearing it all. The ruckus was getting too loud and they didn’t want any attention coming the way of their tent.

  “Gentlemen,” Steve-e-Joe called. “What’s all the fuss about? And did I hear my wife’s name being mentioned?”

  Both men paused for a second, then Morris spoke. “Oh it wasn’t your lovely wife we were talking about.” Sergeant Morris flashed his smile. “It was this other Jean that we knew years ago, wasn’t it Johnny?”

  Old Sergeant started to shake his head, then nodded along with his friend. They both had sheepish grins on their faces and Steve-e-Joe shook his head and said, “We heard every word so there’s no need to deny anything. Sergeant Morris, you were talking about my wife and Sergeant Brown was defending his niece’s honor. I just hope the lads in the other tent didn’t hear you two squabbling.”

  “If they did hear anything lad,” Old Sergeant said nervously, “then I’ll sort them out.”

  “I’m real sorry you and Jean heard us, lad. I was just joking around with Johnny. Honest, I didn’t mean no harm.”

  Steve-e-Joe seemed to study him for a spell before he answered. “And you Sergeant Morris,” he said, taking a step closer to them, and speaking in such a soft tone, that they had difficulty hearing, “you think my wife felt her uncle’s cock along with mine to see which one of us had the biggest pole?”

  Sergeant Morris’ jaw dropped open and he bowed his head in shame. “Oh no, you wasn’t supposed to hear that. I was just pulling Johnny’s leg.”

  Jean gave a little giggle and spoke without thinking. “And what other games do you know other than tent poles? I would have thought that would be a game you’d play with the young boy recruits.”

  As Sergeant Morris stood there, embarrassed and lost for words, Jean realized these men were part of her next adventure: these two scruffy soldiers.

  Steve-e-Joe put his arm around her. “I think what my wife wants to know is if you two know how to play the game, ‘the King’s messenger’?”

  The two sergeants looked at each other a little confused, and then Sergeant Morris smiled and asked sheepishly, “Isn’t that the game the Lords and Ladies play at their drinking parties?”

  Steve-e-Joe smiled back. “I believe it is sergeant. Have you played it?”

  “Once. A long time ago… no, twice really, because the Lady asked us back again.”

  “Us? How many of you were there?” Jean’s adrenaline was suddenly flowing in waves.

  “Oh, there was only me and the captain,” Sergeant Morris said, and as he saw the puzzled look on her face he added, “and the Lord and his wife of, course.”

  “I’d like to hear more about it,” Steve-e-Joe said and as he looked at Jean, he could see in her eyes that she wanted to know more too. “And I think my wife would like to hear how the Lords and Ladies play the game, wouldn’t you, my love?”

  Jean nodded, eyes bright.

  “Why don’t we talk this over in the tent, beyond the stare of prying eyes?” he added, as he led Jean to the tent.

  Sergeant Morris was confounded. “Bloody hell Johnny, does he mean it?”

  Old Sergeant cupped his hand around Morris’ ear and whispered to him, “Do whatever the lad says, they like to take their time at it. Just don’t go at her like some bloody old horny ram.”

  It was just getting totally dark when they stepped into the tent and there was hardly enough room for them to file themselves in, with the cramped space and the thick blanket draped in the middle.

  Steve-e-Joe asked nicely, “Jean love, why don’t you unroll our bed for us, while Sergeant Morris tells us how he came to play ‘the King’s messenger’. We’ll listen.” He guided Old Sergeant to his side of the tent and pointed to his bedroll; Sergeant Johnny Brown gave a knowing smiled and began to unroll his bed.

  Steve-e-Joe turned back to Sergeant Morris. “So sergeant, tell us how you came to know about this game?”

  “Oh I reckon it’s a daft game, but when you’re a Lord and drinking it could be fun to watch, I suppose, and even more fun if you’re playing.”

  Morris strained his eyes in the dark to watch Jean on her knees as she made the bed. With a quick glance, he saw Sergeant Brown doing the same.

  “What about the Ladies?” Jean asked. “Don’t they have fun watching?”

  “I guess they do, but when I played there was only one Lady and she had to be the messenger.”

  “Can’t men be the messengers?”

  “I don’t think you’ll get many men volunteers for that job.”

  “Oh.” Jean said, shrugging.

  “Come here, Jean love.” Steve-e-Joe helped her up from her knees, kissed her and whispered, “Leave the sergeant to tell it in his own time.”

  Steve-e-Joe started to unlace her blouse for her and turned her so that she was between him and Morris. Sergeant Brown sat on the bed patiently waiting to see how Steve-e-Joe wanted to play it out.

  “Carry on, Morris – we can call you, Morris can’t we?” Steve-e-Joe asked.

  “Aye, that you can, lad. While we’re in the tent I suppose we could be good friends...” – he watched Jean’s breasts jiggle as she was undressed – “…we will be good friends, so yeah. But it won’t be too good to call me that in front of the men.”

  He watched Steve-e-Joe help Jean pull her blouse over her head; it was a difficult task in the low tent and he wanted to help but thought better of it and continued his story. “My old captain asked me straight out of the blue one day if I fancied shagging her Ladyship. After making sure I wasn’t about to be executed for treason, I said yes. I asked if the Lord wasn’t up to it, but no, it was his Lordship who had asked the captain to find him a good shag that could keep his mouth shut.”

  Jean had struggled out of her blouse and in the tightness of the tent, she was so close, Morris could almost feel her breath on his face. In the dark, he could just make out her nipples as they pointed at him. He almost made a move to grab them but Johnny had told him to play along with the young couple, so he carried on with the story.

  “So, I went along with him to his Lordship’s
house and I don’t think even the captain himself knew what to expect. His Lordship took us into his best room and his wife fetched us some wine. The four of us had a little drink talking about local things and then out of the blue he told his wife to go upstairs and we’d be up as soon as we finished our drinks. Right in front of us, he gave her backside a gentle slap. She gave him a big kiss, smiled at us and ran up the stairs giggling.”

  Morris strained his eyes to see the shadowy figure of Jean being helped out of her skirt and then crawl naked onto the bed. He swallowed hard.

  “We followed his Lordship to his bedroom,” he continued, “and his wife was lying naked on the bed, with three brightly lit candles on one side and three more on the other side.”

  Jean was lying naked in the semi-dark, and she knew that this was going to be another unforgettable night for her, with another story to play out – whatever happened to her Ladyship in the story was about to happen to her. Jean was already aroused by Morris’ husky voice and even though Steve-e-Joe hadn’t said that Morris could share her bed yet, the four of them took it for granted that it would happen by the time story finished.

  Morris strained his eyes to see Jean as she rolled round the bed but she was no more than a shadow laying there in the darkness.

  He struggled on as his voice grew weaker and his throat grew drier with anticipation. “His Lordship mounted the bed beside his wife and he said to us, ‘Right lads, off with your clothes, my wife wants us to play the Kings Messenger.’ Well it was a bit embarrassing to say the least. His Lordship lay naked on this big bed and shouted, ‘Gather around friends!’ His wife shot up and went to kneel at the bottom of the bed. She called us to kneel by her side: the game had started and the captain and I didn’t have a clue what was going on.”

  Morris felt, more than saw Steve-e-Joe crawl next to his wife, so he hurried on. “His Lordship shouted, ‘Send for the Kings messenger!’ His wife answered and crawled to his side, asking what the message was.

  His Lordship shouted, ‘The King is constipated, ride straight away and get him a cure’. Her Ladyship replied, ‘Yes my lord, I’ll take the fastest horse and be back before the morning.’ And with that, her ladyship caught hold of her husband’s stiff cock, straddled him and started shagging him as if she was riding a horse.”

  Morris felt a sudden draft, and realized it was his friend, Sergeant Brown taking the dividing blanket down. No one said a word so he went on. “His Lordship motioned us to his side and said to us, ‘Don’t be afraid to feel her tits, and one of you can get ready so when I say change horses, you can take her from behind. Don’t come straight away and spoil it for her, boys. We’ll let her change horses as many times as she can, until she’s exhausted or until we three are spent out.”

  Jean had been dying to ask questions, but she now had a good idea of how the game worked. Steve-e-Joe was kissing her and fondling her breast, while Old Sergeant Johnny’s hands were stroking her thighs. She brought her knees up to let him have his way.

  Morris’ voice was breaking in the darkness. “His Lordship said, ‘Get ready to change horses’ and the captain knelt behind her ladyship with his hand on her hips waiting. And as soon as the Lord said ‘Change!’ his wife got up from her squatting position and moved forward, staying on her knees, as she kissed her husband. The captain took her from behind and tried to shag her slowly but she wanted it faster, and in no time the captain was saying she’d have to change horses or he’d be coming. His Lordship said to pass her back to him, and as soon as the captain pulled out, she was squatting on his Lordship’s cock again. Funny thing, every time she changed horses, she kept saying she had to get a cure for the King’s constipation.”

  Morris felt Johnny Brown tugging on his breeches so he knelt down and Johnny whispered in his ear, “Get your bloody clothes off!”

  Morris sat down immediately and began to kick his boots off, saying, “It was my turn next and as soon as his Lordship said she needed a fresh mount, I was behind her willingly.” Morris just about ripped his shirt off and his breeches and was naked as he rushed the end of the story. “The captain and I took her twice, handing her back to her husband before the captain and I had spent out. She was in a state too so we thought that was the end of it, but then her Ladyship said that they had got the cure for the King and he shouted, ‘Where is the King’s Messenger?’ She was immediately back up on her knees, saying, ‘Here I am, what’s the message?’

  What a night!”

  It was pitch-black outside as well as in the tent; the dark clouds had hidden the moon and stars. Morris had found Brown’s arm in the dark and followed it down to Jean’s open legs. He nearly fainted with shock as he felt Jean wriggle with pleasure from the ministrations of Brown’s fingers. He joined in and he heard an extra moan leave her lips as he continued his story.

  “You’ll never believe the message she had to take back to the King; it kind of spoilt the whole game... For me, at least.”

  Morris had trailed off because he didn’t want to talk anymore; he just wanted to help Jean reach her climax, and that didn’t sound too far off.

  “Don’t stop now Morris,” it was more a command than a request, “my wife is hanging on to every word you say.”

  The fingers of Sergeants Morris and Brown seemed to be gently warring over Jean’s magic button – as if they were playing king of the castle with it – and it was taking her breath away. She managed to say after her husband, “Please go on, Morris.”

  Sergeant Brown took Morris’ hand off and whispered, “She don’t like being rushed.”

  Morris put his hand back on her silky smooth thigh, and sighed, wishing the story would finish already.

  “Her Ladyship said she had a cure for the King’s constipation, and in a singing tone he recited it.

  ‘Tell the King, if he wants to shit with ease.

  Just place his hands upon his knees.

  Give a grunt and then a squeeze.

  And it will come out like chalk and cheese.’

  His Lordship and her Ladyship thought it hilarious and when they stopped laughing, the Lord asked that the cure be taken to the King hastily.

  Her ladyship shouted for her horse, and once again she was astride her husband’s cock for the ride back to the King, with the captain and me as her extra mounts. The end.”

  “That’s a better story than old man Morgan told me.” Steve-e-Joe whispered. “But the changing of horses was more or less the same, and that’s what her Ladyship and old man Morgan’s wife liked; the quick change over.”

  Jean was in a world of pleasure with their hands arousing her a lot more than the story did, but she knew it was all part of Steve-e-Joe’s plan. He always took charge just as he was doing now.

  “Johnny, why don’t you make sure my wife nice and wet? And Morris, why don’t you come and lay on the other side of her?”

  “Aye lad,” Morris whispered. “I can do that.” He couldn’t believe his ears; a young lad was calling him to give his wife a good shagging. By God, he would give a month’s wages to shag a beauty like her. He found her tit and gave it a quick squeeze before he greedily shoved it in his mouth and sucked hard on it. He noticed Steve-e-Joe went quiet as they all listened to Jean’s little purring sounds turn to moans and groans.

  Morris tried to let his hand go down between her legs to help Johnny Brown, but his head was planted solidly there as it bounced up and down with every thrust Jean made. Jean’s hand in the dark was making its way down Morris’ belly; he promptly shuffled up so she could reach it. She took his big cock and held it tight; he thought he was dreaming and couldn’t believe this was happening to him. He wanted to say “bugger this nonsense” and dive right into her but he cautioned himself to play it Steve-e-Joe’s way or he might find himself out of the tent on his ear. Finally, she came in a convulsive shuddering that surprised Morris for a second. She let go of Morris’ cock she went limp in her husband’s arms.

  “I love you J
ean,” Steve-e-Joe said, kissing. “I could listen to your moans all day long.”

  “Oh Steve-e-Joe, what are you trying to do to me?”

  “I’m trying to make the march up to York a happy one for you; one that you’ll remember for the rest of your life.” He kissed her ear then whispered into it, “Turn over on your belly, love. Let’s get you ready to be ‘the King’s messenger’. You’ve got three good stallions to ride you to your destiny. I want you to remember this night when you are old and gray.”

  Sergeant Brown, who had still being positioned between her legs gently stroking her, moved quickly out the way for her to turn over, bumping into Morris.

  Morris sidestepped, cursing the dark under his breath; it was so black inside the tent, you couldn’t see your hand in front of you. The dark clouds outside had begun to leak rain and a gentle pit-a-patter on the tent seemed to make the moment even more unreal to him. Jean had got up on to her knees and had spread her legs while he was kneeling down directly behind her. Before she had had a chance to arrange herself, Morris’ fingers had found her wetness. He leaned forward to kiss her bottom and his head bumped into Brown, who like him, didn’t especially believe in wasting any time.

  “Can’t we light a candle?” Morris asked desperately.

  “What, for everyone in camp to see our shadows making out with Jean?” Brown asked. He had re-positioned himself and after sliding his hand down her belly, had found her magic button. They both had a cheek of her bottom to kiss and fondle, while her husband whispered to her.

  “Jean my love,” her husband crooned. “You’ve only been a soldier’s wife for two nights and you are about to have your third soldier.” He half-kissed her ear and half-whispered in it, knowing it was sending shivers right through her body. “I don’t know how many more soldiers you’ll have before we reach York City, some you’ll want and others forced on you, but I hope you’ll be as happy as you are now.”

  Morris took a little liking to the act going on before him but thought it a little weird that she had just done what she was told and acted like she didn’t notice their presence. Morris couldn’t tell if this little beauty was getting turned on by her husband’s annoying talk, the adventurous probing of his hands as well as Brown’s or a combination of both. Either way, she was making all the right sounds and she was kneeling there, waiting for them to shag her and it was driving him mad.