Chapter 6

A FIT OF HEARTY LAUGHTER SEIZED JEFF AND it was some minutes after her dainty figure disappeared from sight before it passed. Just wait till I tell Rafe Hampton about this, he chuckled as he gathered his gear and left the cabin, closing the door behind him. That is, if I ever see him again.

The last thing Susan had said to him that morning was that Charity Breeden and Bonnie O'Brian were very good friends. That being the case, and since he wasn't too interested in locating Bonnie just so Bully Crowder could take her to bed, talking with Charity Breeden was as good a place to start as any.

Her cabin was located on the outer edge of the settlement, half a mile from the one owned by Susan and her brother. It nestled comfortably in a grove of large oak trees and near the main road leading into Franklin from Port Royal. Not far from the cabin, a small brook gurgled merrily on its way. Behind the cabin was the forest; the limitless miles of wilderness which, as Jeff knew probably better than anyone else, was safe now that the Indians were friendly. As Jeff approached the place, he recalled with an amused smile Susan's tale that Charity was, as she called it, "built way back," and could play mama and papa while standing straight up with her partner behind.

The picture evoked in his mind by the lovely Susan's story intrigued him. Was it really possible? He had never heard of such a thing before. But then, he mused, there was a lot in this old world he had never heard of.

He heard noises of someone moving about just before he knocked on the door. His knock was followed by a short, silent pause which was broken by approaching footsteps and Charity Breeden opened the door. She wore a tight-bodiced, full-skirted dress that reached from her neck to her ankles-almost identical in style-to those worn by Susan and Prudence-of a wine-red material. Jeff could tell at a glance, from the way the skirt stood out, that she wore several petticoats underneath. And probably a pair of the ankle length pantaloons, which were so popular. And her husband left her because of something she couldn't help, he thought to himself as he stood there drinking in her beauty with his eyes.

Charity Breeden's hair was the color of wild honey and her eyes the same deep blue of the sky on a clear summer's day. She had a high, intelligent brow, a straight, sensitive nose and a wide, full-lipped mouth which smiled easily and often. She was not quite as tall as Susan, but somewhat heavier, with sturdy shoulders, ripe, heavy breasts, which the bodice of her dress could not conceal-and an almost tiny waist which flared into full, mature hips.

"Yes?" she said cautiously when she opened the door. Then, as recognition lit her face, "Why, Jeff Hudson! I haven't seen you in weeks. How in the world are you? Come in." She stepped away from the door to allow him to pass her. "What brings you back to civilization after all this time?"

"I got in yesterday afternoon," he told her, looking around the main room of the neat, spic-and-span cabin. "Came in for some salt and powder, and Bully Crowder hired me to locate his runaway bond servant. Susan Crowder told me you and Bonnie were very good friends. Can you tell me where she is hiding?"

"Here," she said, "let me put your rifle and things over here against the wall." She had followed him into the room after closing the door. Now she took his rifle and gear and stood them near a small, foot-square, open window facing the settlement.

"That little window is really a place to shoot Indians from," she continued when she turned to face him again, "But of course it's useless for that now." She looked at him for a long moment before she spoke again. "And you aim to return Bonnie to Bully Crowder if you find her?" she asked. "Ain't that what you got in mind?"

"She's his bond servant," Jeff said stubbornly. "It's the law."

"Humph," she said with force. "The law! Out here we make our own law. You ort to know that. And there ain't no one human bein' supposed to be slave to another. You ort to know that, too, and that's what a bond servant is-a slave and nothin' but. So there!"

"Then you do know where Bonnie is hiding." It was a statement, not a question.

"You said it, Jeff Hudson," Charity told him evenly. "I didn't. And you don't have tobe so stubborn and ill-mannered, either. If I know where Bonnie O'Brian is, that's my business."

"I'm sorry, Charity," he said quietly. "Bully Crowder thinks the Indians have her. That's the reason he hired me to bring her back. I had no idea I was being ill-mannered." He looked down into her upturned face as she stood close to him, feeling her nearness and smelling the heady female scent which followed her like a cloud. Then his experience with the opposite sex came to the fore and elaborated on something Susan Crowder had told him last night. Susan had said quite frankly that Charity was constantly talking about men when they were alone; that she was in dire need of male attention. Had Jeff doubted this, his doubts would now have been dispeled-for even though the blonde young woman stood at least two feet from him he could feel the heat flowing from her body like steam from an oven. Yet she had perfect control of her expression and her eyes told him nothing.

"Is Bonnie safe?" he asked, his eyes on hers. For the life of him he was unable to erase from his mind the pictures invoked by Susan's contention that Charity could play mama standing upright. How could such be possible? How?

"Bonnie O'Brian is woman enough to take care of herself," was her only answer. She was about to speak again when the call came from the road beside the house leading into the settlement proper.

"Charity?" the quavering female voice called. "You home, Charity?"

""Mercy!" A startled look came into Charity's eyes. "That's old Mandy Hanks! If I let her in and she finds you here, there ain't no tellin' what'll happen."

Mandy Hanks was a gossipy old crone who foraged in the forest surrounding the settlement for roots and herbs, which she sold in the community as medicine. She was also an insatiable gossip who, in her journey from one cabin to the next, shuttled all local news along with her sales. When the news was meager she was prone to supplement it with her own speculations, delivered with vague implications, subtle gestures and innuendo. Jeff knew her discovering him alone with Charity, in her cabin with the door closed, would be a choice morsel indeed. This did not particularly alarm Jeff, but Susan had said that Charity was acutely sensitive to being gossiped about.

"Head her off before she leaves the road," Jeff said tersely. "Tell her-tell her you're sick or something."

"Head her off?" Charity asked, grasping at straws. "How head her off?"

Then the words shoved themselves through his mouth from the back of his mind so quickly he was hardly conscious of saying them. "That little window over there. The one you said was to shoot Indians from. It faces the road. Talk to her from it. Maybe she just wants to pass the time of day, then move on."

Without answering him Charity raced to the far corner of the room, seized a sturdily built but very short-legged stool, then rushed to the foot-square little window, placed the stool under it to stand on.

"Mandy!" she called in a too loud, nervous voice. "Mandy Hanks!"

"Ain't no use in you squallin' so," the old woman replied from the road in a peevish voice. "I'm right here, Charity."

"I'm sorry, Mandy," Charity apologized hurriedly. "But I was afraid you might come in."

Jeff stood there in the middle of the room, looking at the back of Charity's trim figure as she stood on the squat stool talking out the window, and as he continued to look he felt desire move greasily low in his belly, the same as it had with Prudence Goodbody. Then he grinned broadly to himself. With Charity afraid of Mandy finding him alone with her would be insurance against her creating a scene, he thought. Perhaps. Or would she raise a ruckus, even with Mandy present, when she realized he was lifting her skirts? Yet Susan had definitely implied that Charity was in need of attention.

And your philosophy has always been, he chuckled silently to himself as he moved toward the stool on which Charity stood, to always scratch a lady when she itches. Well, let's see just how bad this one is itching."

"And why, Charity Breeden," Mandy Hanks demanded indignantly from the road several yards away, "are you afraid I might come in? I've always been welcome before."

"It ain't that, Mandy," Charity lied evenly. "But when I woke up this mornin' there was a rash on my body." Here her voice took on an ominous, warning note. "And you know how the plague came to Franklin a few years ago."

Jeff stepped up behind the young woman at the window, unafraid the person outside would see him or what he intended. The window was too small for that, and at a height that Charity's chin barely cleared it. Deftly he lifted the hem of her dress, along with the several petticoats she wore underneath. His surmise had been correct. She did have on a pair of the ruffled, ankle-length pantaloons. She started smally when he reached around in front and undid the knot holding them around her tiny waist.

"You ain't got the plague, have you, honey?" Mandy asked fearfully. With one hand Charity reached behind her to slap at him working the pantaloons down to her ankles. The blow missed him completely and she tried again, this time with no better success.

Then it was done. Her skirt and petticoats were tucked under the band of her apron and the ruffled pantaloons in a soft heap at her ankles. Once she almost turned but, remembering Mandy in the road, caught herself.

"No," she said in a voice quivering with sup-pressed emotion. "I don't think it's the plague." She shivered visibly as Jeff slid his hands around her and traced his finger over her flat tummy and upper thighs. "But it's better to be safe than sorry." She shivered again, more violently than before, as his hands began exploring, found what they sought.

With one hand Jeff loosed the belt supporting his pants. They dropped to his ankles, as had her pantaloons.

"I can see from the road here that you ain't exactly chipper," the old woman said. "Your face is as red as a beet." i Jeff's heart was pounding furiously with excitement, Susan was right. Charity Breeden was built 'way back.' and because she was standing on the low stool; she was, at exactly the right height. Quickly he placed Js. foot on' the outside of each of hers, bent slightly at the knees, with near frantic haste divided the soft forest of blonde angel down and, with the massive invader sticking straight up, eased back to his normal standing position.

Charity wiggled her posterior quickly several times while he was doing this and the invader, securely lodged within the blonde-shielded cleft, impaled her completely. Jeff stood there, encased entirely, seeing but finding it hard to believe, even yet. Without further ado he commenced his advance-withdrawal rhythm, using long, deep strokes.

"I ain't-feeling-chipper," Charity gasped desperately as she felt the plundering invader begin to move about in her secret places. "Go warn the settlement-to stay away."

"I don't know if it's the plague or not," and there was sincere alarm in her voice when Mandy said it, "but you sure got somethin', child."

At that instant Jeff felt the clutching at him from, deep inside her, felt a vast shivering seize her entire body, and felt the dam inside him give way, hurling thundering rivers of scalding man-seed into her hungry belly.

"Oh lordy!" Mandy Hanks said hurriedly. "It must be the fits you've got, the way your eyes is bulgin' and with you chewin' your tongue! I better go warn the settlement." Neither of the two young people at the window was aware of it when she turned and scurried back toward the main part of Franklin. Even when he felt the dam within him burst, Jeff did not cease in his rhythm, but maintained a steady pace, moving back a step because Charity had broken at the waist and pushed back against him. Her arms were straight as she hung onto the windowstill, her head down between her arms. And as he continued the action, a fluttering whimper of ecstasy escaped her. This was followed immediately by a low, quivering moan of absolute bliss.

"I'm dying," Charity sobbed in a soft, quiet voice. "I know I'm dying." And she continued to sob brokenly, hanging onto the window, until the visitation had passed completely. When this happened Jeff remained motionless for half a minute, the invader buried deep, then quickly withdrew and jerked up his pants from around his ankles.

Without a word or even so much as a glance in his direction, Charity Breeden tied her pantaloons back around her waist and casually strode into the neighboring bedroom and closed the door. When she returned several minutes later, Jeff was seated at the dining table. Her face was expressionless as she walked around to where he sat.

"Jeffery Hudson," she said in a steady, even voice, her blue eyes locked with his. "I ort to skin you alive for takin' advantage of me like that." Obviously she was evincing no little effort at maintaining control.

""! thought you'd enjoy it," Jeff grinned, getting to his feet. "I did. Tremendously."

Suddenly her lovely face lit with a glowing smile and she threw herself into his arms. "So did I," she laughed softly, happily, her face buried against his chest. "The only thing wrong with it was that it was too short." She paused to look up at him quizzically. "But whatever in the world ever gave you the idea that-"

"That it could happen in that position?" he interrupted.

"Yes," she nodded, stars in her eyes. "How come?"

"I didn't know for sure," he lied evenly. "But I'm glad I tried."

"Mmm," she sighed dreamily. "So am I, even if you did almost shock me out of my britches when you started. For a moment there when I was talkin' to Mandy Hanks through toe window, I didn't know what in the world I was goin' to do, what with you liftin' my skirts and takin' off my underclothes. Then suddenly I didn't care, but I'm glad Mandy will tell the settlement I might have the plague. Won't a soul come to visit me now until they see me first in the settlement to make sure I ain't sick." She canted her head sideways and looked askance at him. "But I suppose all your good deeds are done for the day?" Then her soft hand stole down to the front of his trousers and, at her gently touch, the massive invader bucked quickly against the restraining material. "Eee-i," she breathed heavily. "You ain't done for the day, are you? Not less you want to be."

"And I don't want to be," he grinned down at her.

"Not nearly."

"Honest?" There was doubt in her eyes. "Honest," he said.

"Then you wait right here for a minute, Mr. .Jeffery Hudson. Only come when I call you. Will you do that?"

"Try me," he said as she turned from him and made her way into the bedroom once again. "Just try me."

"A very few minutes later he heard her call softly and when he entered the room where she was he saw her clothes over a chair near the bed. As for Charity herself, she lay face down under the sheet on the bed. Without a word he hastily removed his clothes, letting them fall at his feet as each garment was shed. In a thrice he was standing over her and from the way tho sheet fitted the contours of her body, he suspected she wore absolutely nothing. This was confirmed when he flipped the sheet back. She lay face down with her face turned to one side, away from him, her hands folded under her head and her legs spread apart. Under her hips was a large pillow folded in half, which lifted her buttocks slightly.

Still silently, since his work was obviously cut out for him, Jeff mounted the bed, dropped to his knees between her spread thighs, depressed the throbbing attender until the end was lodged securely within the hot little valley, then leaned forward and down until his weight rested on her back. Without further ado. he applied pressure with his hips and worked the massive engine deep into her hungry body, thrilling to the delightful sensation of her firm, young buttocks nestling snugly against his groin when it reached home.

"Mercy," she grunted with feminine pleasure when it-was done. "Where did you get all of that?"

"Nature," he whispered into the ear under his lips.

"She was kind to me."

"Mmm," she murmured in return. "And ain't I glad."

Now Charity Breeden was a lusty young woman of twenty-three whose husband had forsaken her months past, and in those months she had suffered all those bitter tortures of the damned to one in such a circumstance. On more than one occasion she had almost invited one of the acceptable males of the settlement to her cabin, yet always there lingered in the back of her mind news of the tryst might be uncovered and such, to Charity, would have been the epitome of shame and humiliation. Yet as time had passed her fear at it becoming known she was miserably in need of a man diminished to the point where it was nil. In truth, the very hour Jeff had shown up at her door she had decided to visit the settlement of Franklin for the sole purpose of finding herself a suitable paramour. After all, a healthy young female can be neglected only so long.

And so it was that when Jeff Hudson leaned his weight down against her back; when she felt the great invader commence gliding back and forth among her secret places, caressing her where she had never been caressed before, a cozy, delicious glow of absolute bliss began pervading her entire, small waisted being. It was a sensation different from that when she had been talking to Mandy Hanks through the small window. Then it had been harsh and exploding, where now it was gentle and tender.

"Oh me," she murmured blissfully. "Can anything be so good a person can't stand it? Can-?"

Then the visitation of supreme rapture smote her mercilessly in the belly and the gentle tenderness was gone. Surging waves of flame shot through her famished body and she cried out sharply from the ecstasy of it, yet because of her position and his weight on her back she was almost unable to move. Her arms jerked, somewhat like the erratic strokes of a novice swimmer, while her hands clutched on anything and her legs, from the knees down, thumped the bed with ragged rhythm as she twisted and contorted at the plundering invader churning back and forth within her defenseless bottom.

"Have mercy," she pleaded quietly as tears of pleasure stung her eyes. "I can't stand this." Then she felt the scalding torrents of man-seed gushing into her thirsty belly and the visitation slugged her a second time without warning.

A spontaneous, guttural scream tore past her parted lips and her body tensed. Nor did the weight of Jeff on her back prevent her from moving this time. With seeming superhuman effort, she raised to her hands and knees. When she did this Jeff straightened his arms and because of their different body lengths, one was on each side of her head, preventing her from crawling out from under him.

"Oh!" she sobbed raggedly as the great, plundering invader continued its maddening rhythm back and forth. Even when she managed to turn and crawl to the far side of the bed Jeff followed, walking on his hands and knees over her, slamming the cudgel solidly home with each stroke as the burning wine of life continued to pour from his body. He could feel her mad grabbing at him from inside each time he withdrew and a tiny grunt escaped her each time he thrust home. Because of her need and because of his delight in their position, which afforded a coupling as complete as he had ever experienced, he was determined to play his part to the fullest.

When Charity realized there was no hope of escape from the delicious madness enveloping her completely she had little choice but to submit whole heartedly, which she did with a gusty sigh ox sublime pleasure. She sank back to the bed, stretched her legs out behind her, once more rested her head against her hands and closed her eyes, completely relaxed. She had just managed to do this when the visitation, encouraged by the stirring in her secret places, descended a third time. Perspiration broke out all over her greedy, young body as flaming ecstasy flowed through her, catching the breath in her throat and causing her to gnash her teeth noisily. Still the plundering invader kept up its merciless assault.