The Highwayman

"Stand and deliver!"

He stood with pistols drawn praying the coachman and the guard would yield without a fight. Why would these poor bastards give up their lives for the rich fools in their charge? Honour? Foolishness, they had no chance, the setting sun was at his back, he was at very short range, they had been caught by surprise... he hoped they would simply yield and spare him the expense of the powder and shot. No such luck, the guard, young, foolish, moved. The musket by his side was loaded and primed but it was a bulky weapon and he was too hasty. The crack of the pistols shattered the silence and sent roosting birds to flight in the wood where he had ambushed the coach. He sighed deeply as he drew his rapier and third pistol from behind his back and walked to the door of the coach. He was ready for the possibility that whoever was inside might also decide to put up a fight, or merely delay, hoping for rescue. After all, someone may have heard those shots and come to their aid.

"Stand and deliver!"

Nothing but a muffled conversation. A complaint about having worn "those diamonds." This could prove a promising engagement indeed!

"I have killed two men already, do you really believe I will not kill again?"

The door opened and out stepped a gentleman. He was fat and disheveled from the long ride from York. Not terribly rich from the look of him, no rings, no wig, but he wore good clothing which well concealed his girth. The cost of those two dead men would be quite low indeed if this man's possessions were all that could be expected. Then she stepped out of the coach and the highwayman's mood improved immediately. The lady was stiff and austere trying to hide her fear behind a mask of disdain. Her husband could have at least tried to do the same. She was a lovely woman of at least 30, voluptuous and certainly very desirable. She did much to hide what feminine assets she possessed however they were very obvious indeed, as was the diamond necklace around her neck that twinkled in the sunlight. A fine prize indeed. He could see the fear in her eyes, though there was something else there too, something he could not yet place... was it surprise?

Lady Rebecca Stirling stood before the highwayman trying to maintain a mask of disdain and loathing. His stare had caught her completely off her guard. The only thing she could see were his eyes beneath the brim of his hat and above his mask. She had seen them look at her, at all of her, she had stopped considering herself an object of desire long ago. Whatever desires her husband had for her had died after the birth of their children. With an heir assured, her usefulness expired and her desire and love were left to wither. She felt a twinge of excitement as his eyes roamed across her form mixed with the tin taste of fear, she would be unable to resist this man should he desire more than to look upon her and take her possessions.

The highwayman was caught off guard by her, he had lapsed into thoughts of lust like some young lovelorn pup, the kind that thought of desire for flesh before desire for money, the kind that got themselves killed. He tore his eyes away from the lady and focused on her gentleman. The initial shock had worn off, he cursed his foolishness. He leveled the pistol at the man's heart.

"Please relieve yourself of your possessions, sir, without heroics, no more blood need be shed this day on your account."

Mutters of contempt and impotent outrage as the man fumbled with his coat.

His eyes moved back to her for just a moment, but a moment was all that was needed. The fumbling man drew a small pistol and pulled the trigger, a look of triumph in his eyes.

Another crack of thunder reverberated through the wood.

The gentleman's pistol was beautifully gilded, the barrel and grip etched by a craftsman from Germany. If it had not been for the glint of that gilding, the highwayman might not have seen it at all. The highwayman's pistol was plain, it was a tool, not an ornament, it was simple and effective. The pretty pistol dropped from the gentleman's limp fingers and landed in the road the powder had been damp, it had never fired.

Rebecca had not been able to move for some time, she stood and watched her husband's body for what seemed an age. It had been so fast. One moment her eyes had met the highwayman's again and the next there was a flurry of movement, the noise, the smoke and now stillness. She felt no sadness to look upon his crumpled form. Nor was she numbed as one might expect. She did however feel the tip of the highwayman's rapier at her throat. She looked down the length of the blade into the man's eyes, she saw fear in them.

Fool! Had that pistol fired he would have been killed! It took every ounce of his strength to keep the rapier still and his voice calm.

"I regret your loss, Madam, but I must ask you to relieve yourself of your jewels."

Her eyes met his and he saw no fear in them, she was not shaking, she shed no tears, her gaze was level as she began to remove the necklace.

"Are you going to kill me now that you have what you want?"

His mouth was dry and he found himself at a loss for words, he had never met a woman like this. He felt unmanned by those eyes, those beautiful eyes. He thought he might blush like a school boy beneath their gaze. How many times had she seen his eyes glance over the curves of her body?

"The gown, Madam, the gown as well I'm afraid."

It would fetch a good price, the embroidery and lace were quite lovely though it was perhaps more austere than was the fashion of the time. Now he could feel the heat washing over him, it was all he could do to keep his nerve beneath her gaze.

"And if I refuse?"

Was it Rebecca's imagination or did the rapier wobble ever so slightly as it was raised once more to her throat. Was there a tremble to his voice?

"Then I will simply cut you out of it, though I would hate to tarnish such lovely work."

Removing the gown was no easy feat for a woman used to being dressed and undressed by a maid, in fact, it quickly became an object lesson in futility. If he wanted her out of the gown, and never had he longed for anything so much, he would need to take it off himself.

She had expected aggression, she expected him to rip it from her. The gentleness of his touch as he spun her around and began to untie and unbutton her was so surprising: there was no hurry to it, no fumbling. She heard the rapier sliding into it's sheath and the next his nimble fingers were expertly removing her from her gown. He was so close now that his smell filled her nostrils, he was no perfumed fop, he smelled of sweat and horse and she found she could not get enough of it. The last hook was undone and the gown fell to the ground. She could feel his eyes on her as she stood in only her bodice and drawers. Deep within her the flower that had been budding since she first caught sight of this man came to full bloom.

Her skin had been so soft beneath his touch. The soft curves of her body had been heaven to see unfettered by the unyielding corset. He pulled the jeweled pins from her hair and the cascades of perfumed ringlets fell to her milk white shoulders. He felt waves of desire crashing deep within him. He was caught completely off guard when she spun around to face him.

"Do you now have everything that you want, scoundrel?"

He now saw something in her eyes, something he realized was now mirrored within his own: desire. He found it hard to maintain her gaze and dropped his eyes. The view of her breasts barely contained by her bodice made his manhood surge and as his eyes once again met hers he drew her into his arms.

As she fell into his strong arms she pulled down the mask and their mouths met in a passionate embrace. The last light of the sun faded as they kissed deeply and passionately. They pulled away from each other and looked deeply into each other's eyes.

For the first time she now saw his face, he was younger than she had thought, though his eyes betrayed the harsh life of an outlaw. He was handsome though wore many scars across his face. He took her by the hand and lead her without resistance through the wood to where his horse stood tied to a beech. He lifted her onto his back with ease and taking the bridle in his hand, lead her off, she cared not where.

The narrow path he lead her down opened into a small glade surrounded by tall trees lit by the full moon so that it was almost as bright as day. He lifted her from the horse and laid her on the soft grass still warm from the hot summer sun, her hair cascading around her face. He lay down next to her and as they exchanged another kiss his hands busied themselves to undo her bodice.

She removed his hat, unclasped his cloak and began to unbutton his shirt. His chest was broad, strong and carried scars, the lines of which she traced with her finger tip, kissing each one. She rolled him onto his back as she pulled off his boots and unbuttoned his breeches. She felt as though she were in a trance, the horrors of only a few hours ago forgotten as her entire focus was on him and his body. She gently pulled out his manhood, it was hard, and thick and the tip glistened with droplets of his seed. She could feel her own wetness surge as she felt him throb and moan as she gently pulled and squeezed. She bent down and kissed the tip, letting her tongue snake out and lick the entire length. She could feel his hand slide into her hair as she slid him into her mouth. She had never done this before. Throughout her forced celibacy she had read many novels, smuggled to her by her cook, Mrs. Porter, that explained a seemingly endless variety of carnal arts in quite explicit detail. This was her first chance to put this knowledge to practical use. The taste was not entirely to her liking but with every lick his moans only encouraged her to continue. He pulled her head away and she was certain that she had done something wrong though his eyes and gentle words dispelled any thoughts of the like. He was saving his climax for later. Now, it was her turn.

He finished removing her corset, his heart pounding in his ears, never had a woman done to him what she had done. Never had a woman's touch so awoken the passion within him. He kissed her breasts suckling her nipples until they were hard in his mouth. Deep moans were his reward as his fingers slid into her drawers to find her drenched with insatiable want. She let out a small scream of passion as his fingers found every place his touch was craved. Her passions overwhelmed her and the convulsions wracked her body as her long nails bit into his back.

She had never been touched like that, her only experiences were with her husband and they had been brief and painful. She had only experienced such gentle pleasures on her own and to share them only made her want more. She could feel his lips kissing their way down her stomach, surely he would not! But as she had done for him so now he did for her. Once again the waves of passion broke over her sending her body through spasms of pleasure though he did not stop, he became more gentle as she became more sensitive and more bold as her hips pushed herself into him seemingly of their own accord. Once the quaking of her body left he slid up her body and kissed her, she could taste her sex on his mouth mingling with his own and it made her whole body ache. She could feel his manhood pressed against her, still so hard. Then, readjusting his hips, he entered her.

She gasped as he entered her, she was very tight but so very wet and so very willing. She bit deeply into his shoulder to keep from screaming as he held her close. Matching each thrust of his manhood with her hips he quickly started to feel the pressure mounting within him... a few more thrusts and he would release his seed.

She knew from his face what was about to occur, and she kissed him deeply, she wanted nothing more at that moment than for him to fill her with his seed, she wanted his pleasure and as he throbbed deeply within her and the spasms of his pleasure shook him she too felt the carnal surge flow over her and she screamed into the night.

She lay in his arms beneath his cloak, the full moon drifting below the tree tops the smell of their carnality filling her the air around them. His hand was idly sliding up and down her back. She looked up into his face, kissed him gently.

"The deal I struck with our mutual acquaintance was for the elimination of my husband, it did not mention that you would ravish me as well... will that require an extra charge? And if so, might I pay you for another?"

He smiled a cruel and playful smile and rolled her onto her back pinning her arms above her head.

"The ravishing was, as I'm sure you are quite aware, entirely my pleasure, and as for payment, I'm certain we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement for any extras you wish."

She could feel the spirit returning to his member as she felt felt her own passion mounting within her. Freed from her husband she would need to play the role of the grieving widow in public as she had played the role of the dutiful wife all those long years. However, in private, she would be certain to continue putting what she had read to good use, and perhaps, with a little help, she may even try her own hand at writing.