Kill The President's Women (Joe The Magic Man Series Book 2) (34 page)

Jean was in bed, naked when she asked, “Did you thank Sergeant Evans properly for helping to rescue you?”

“Yes I did. I thanked him a few times.”

“I guess I’ll have to thank him too when I see him.” she asked and moved in closer to him as he settled down, “Which one of the three soldiers was Sergeant Evans and what is he like?”

Earlier, all Jean had seen was three wild-looking men riding horses bareback through the camp and whistling like they had gone crazy.

Steve-e-Joe turned on his side and put his hand on her pointy chest. “Sergeant Evans is the thickest set of the three; he’s not as tall as Sergeant Jones, but just as stocky.” He felt Jean’s hand around his cock. “He’s got big thick arms, bulging with muscles from pulling that bow.”

“He’s got big thick arms, just like you said his cock was like.” Jean was dropping the hint that she was willing to thank Sergeant Evans tonight. She kissed Steve-e-Joe. “Is he coming to check if we’re all right?” Jean asked again hopefully.

“I don’t think so.”

They made love and Jean enjoyed it but that something extra wasn’t there, there was no story and there was no other man to share her.

“Thank you Steve-e-Joe love; that was just what I wanted.”

“Well it’ll have to do love, I’m too tired for any more. You’ll just have to satisfy yourself love,” he kissed her, “or go thank Sergeant Evans, you know, get it off your mind. I know you want to and you’ll sleep better then.”

Jean stopped breathing for a mi
nute while she thought about it and then let out a big sigh. “I couldn’t go find him… but if you were to fetch him here,” she put her hand on his limp cock, “then you could be here while I thank him.”

Steve-e-Joe turned over. “No, I need an early night. You’ll see him again sometime and you can thank him them. Good night, love.”

Jean was most annoyed with him, leaving her there to satisfy herself after she had practically admitted she wanted Sergeant Evans to bed her. She struggled to come up with a good reason for him to fetch Sergeant Evans for her, without sounding too desperate. “Steve-e-Joe we might not see him again, he could be in a different part of camp or something.”

“You just play with yourself, Jean and if you still want more after that,” he raised his head slightly and whispered, “his tent is in the row in front of us, two tents to the right.”

“Don’t you want to come with me?”

“You can tell me all about it in the morning.”

Based on Steve-e-Joe’s account, Jean already had an image of Sergeant Evans’ cock in her head and she couldn’t stop thinking about it. She didn’t realize she had been gently rubbing her magic button until she gave a little murmur of pleasure. She was sure that Steve-e-Joe wasn’t asleep yet and would hear her please herself but curiously, that prospect wasn’t enough for her that night. She got up, got into her blouse and skirt and whispered to her pretending-to-be-asleep husband. “The row in front and two tents to the right, did you say?”

“Yes. So it can’t wait until another night?”

“I won’t be long.”

Adrenalin pounded through her veins and she wondered if she was truly the one taking this chance. She examined her thoughts and found she was partly doing it to spite Steve-e-Joe for turning his back on her.

Sergeant Evans’ tent was one of the smaller ones that you had to crawl into and would sleep two people at most. Jean nearly turned back when she arrived in front of it. She tried to convince herself that she was doing the right thing:
I do owe him a favour; he saved my husband’s life. Besides, I’m a soldier’s wife, and I’m sure Sergeant Evans would be grateful.

She took a deep breath, got down on her knees and whispered through the tent flaps, “Sergeant Evans, are you awake?”

There was a grunting sound, followed by the rustle of blankets being thrown off. She saw his hands begin to untie the flaps and he said something in Welsh. She guessed he was asking who was there so she said, “I’m Steve-e-Joe’s wife.”

The flaps opened and Jean quickly crawled in, just in case someone had seen or heard her. “I’ve come to say thank you for saving my husband from being hanged.” He mumbled something again in his Welsh accent, and Jean didn’t have a clue as to what he said. They were both on their knees with their heads nearly touching the roof of the tent. He put his hands on her shoulders, and said, clearer now, “Are you the beautiful gull Steve-e-Joe married?”

Jean just about understood him. “Yes, I’m Jean.”

“Oh, Jean gull.” He caught hold of her face and kissed her.

When he broke away to take her blouse off, she whispered, “I owe you a lot; they would have hanged him if you hadn’t sent them on their way.” He mumbled again but Jean only made out parts of his poor English. He gently cupped his hands around her breasts, and took them hungrily in his mouth.

Jean undid her skirt and had to lay down to take it off while the sergeant took off his nightshirt. They both fell in each other’s arms in a long, lingering kiss. He was taking his time but Jean was a little impatient. She couldn’t wait much longer to feel the big thick cock that Steve-e-Joe told her he had threatened the sheriff’s men with. Her hand went down and found his erection. As she stroked it, she heard him mumble some more words she didn’t understand.

She concentrated on the cock at hand. It was as big as the captain’s and Steve-e-Joe’s but it didn’t feel as thick as Sergeant Jones’. It did feel nice and hard though and Jean was more than ready for it. Of course, she had thought about this cock all day and she was going to have it.

They made love twice, with a lot more kissing than she thought she should have done with a stranger, but he kept whispering what she took to be nice things to her and feeling her all over. In the end, Jean felt it was a debt well-paid and was glad she found the courage to come to him. She reckoned she’d go wake Steve-e-Joe up and tease him for a change, tell him that her debt to Evan Evans had finally been paid.

“I’ve got to go now and thank you once again for helping to save my Steve-e-Joe.”

“It’s alright gull; Steve-e-Joe is a good boyo.”

Jean struggled to get her skirt on in the dark low tent. “Yes he is, and you, sergeant are a good boyo too.”

“Oh I isn’t no sergeant, I’m just old Tom Thomas, a sheep farmer I be.”

“What? You aren’t Sergeant Evans?”

“You passed the sergeant’s tent.” Tom Thomas smiled in the dark to himself

“But you are Tom Thomas, and you did help save my Steve-e-Joe didn’t you?” she asked desperately, slipping her blouse on.

“Aye, aye, I’m glad you called gull, and I tell Sergeant Evans and William Williams that you do ask about them; the three of us helped your boyo.”

Jean understood him better now that he wasn’t whispering so quietly.

“Thank you Tom,” she said and she was out of there and back in her tent before Tom had finished thanking her.

“You’re back, are you?” Steve-e-Joe asked. He could hear Jean breathing heavily as if she had run a mile. “By the sound of your panting, I can tell you found his tent alright.”

Jean got into bed. “You said the row in front and two tents across to the right?”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s where the sergeant said he’d be if I needed him.”

“That’s Tom Thomas’ tent!”

“It is?” Steve-e-Joe turned around to face her. “Oh that’s right, it was Tom who told me where to come if we needed help. Did he tell you which tent was the sergeant’s?”

“You wanted me to go to that tent! You knew it wasn’t Sergeant Evans’ tent.” Jean poked him in the belly. “I could have got raped!”

“No, I know I told you if you were in trouble, all you had to do was shout, ‘Sergeant Evans on me’, and you would have had the whole camp on you,” he giggled, “as well as Tom Thomas.”

“You think that’s funny?”

“Isn’t it? Well, maybe not so much but look… it does sound like you made the same mistake as that young girl, in the story Sergeant Jones told us.”

“Is that what all this was about, you getting me to play out that story?” Jean felt a little stupid for not anticipating he might pull a trick like that.

“No, but I know you were missing the excitement of having the captain and sergeant, and I know one man is not enough for my wife.” He kissed her. “So I thought I’d let you go looking for someone to help me out and keep that excitement going for you. Has Tom Thomas got a big cock?” His hand found its way in between her legs.

“Yes, it’s as big as yours,” she said, finding his and finding it hard.

“The way you were are panting, I’d say you found the night very exciting.”

Jean wanted to kick him and kiss him all at the same time but she reckoned he was right; she was too much for one man, and the excitement of going looking for another man was what she wanted.

“But how could you trick me?” she asked. “You knew I wanted Evan Evans’ big cock that you were on about and you sent me to Tom Thomas’ tent knowing I wouldn’t know the difference. She pounded on his chest angrily then kissed him passionately and pulled him into her.

His trickery was immediately forgotten.

In the morning, Jean found the cook before he found her and they made bread and soup for the men to eat before they packed up and moved on. As she dished out the soup to the early risers, she was hoping Captain Morgan would be in the next camp waiting for her. The sun wasn’t up yet and the air was chilly, and when one of the men spoke to her it sent a shiver through her.

“Morning Jean gull, did you sleep alright last night?”

Jean recognized the voice; she looked up at the untidy Welshman in his late 40s. His knowing smile said he was the man she made love to the previous night. Her eyes widened and she was almost afraid to ask.

“Tom, is it?”

“Aye, I be Tom Thomas, Jean gull.” He was staring at the tits he had held onto during their encounter. “And this is Sergeant Evans,” his grin grew bigger, “I told him you was looking for him last night.”

Jean addressed Sergeant Evans as she dished them soup. “Thank you sergeant for helping my husband, I am grateful.”

“Aye, Tom told me how grateful you can be, Jean gull,” Sergeant Evans said.

Jean knew her cheeks had turned red and so she didn’t raise her head to look at them.

The next man in line said, “I’m William Williams and I helped save your husband from a sure hanging too.”

“Thank you Mr. Williams I’m most…” – she had no idea why her voice shook – “I am most grateful to you.”

“Aye gull, Tom also told me how grateful you can be.” Williams grinned.

Jean was too embarrassed to look at them and was glad when some impatient soldier down the line yelled for them to move on.

The next week flew by, with Jean and Steve-e-Joe regularly sharing their bed with Captain Morgan and Sergeant Jones. They were on the road to York with Jean riding up front beside the cook on his wagon when he
spoke to her.

“Looks like we’re finally here gull, I bet York castle is just up that road.”

“Do you think so? I’ve never seen a castle before.” Jean was excited. “I’ve never even seen a city before.”

“Aye and you wouldn’t see this one until the war is over.” He patted Jean’s knee. “And it will more than likely be burned down, but you’ll be allowed to go scavenging with the rest of them in the ashes.”

Jean hadn’t had any such thoughts for she knew next to nothing about war. “I don’t think I want to go scavenging.”

“Hush,” the cook pulled the wagon up and pointed to a soldier. “He’s one of King Henry’s men the way he’s dressed.”

The soldier on horseback approached Lord Bedford and Captain Morgan who were riding just in front of the cook’s wagon, and with a bow of the head, asked. “Lord Bedford?”

“Yes I’m Lord Bedford,” came the reply, “and this is Captain Morgan.”

“Captain Morgan.” The soldier acknowledged him with a nod. “The Duke of Suffolk hopes you are both doing well, and would like you to join him in his tent at the earliest of your convenience.”

“In other words,” Lord Bedford looked at Captain Morgan, “he wants to see us straight away?”

“I believe it is important, my Lord.” He gave another bow. “If you follow me, I’ll take you straight to him.”

Captain Morgan turned round and shouted, “Sergeant Jones, make camp here.”

He looked at Jean, and flashing her a smile that spoke volumes, he rode off with Lord Bedford.

“Bloody hell gull,” the cook exclaimed to Jean. “The Duke of Suffolk wants to speak to our captain.”

“Who’s the Duke of Suffolk?” Jean asked.

“He’s King Henry’s right hand man and he’ll be leading this army to war, that’s who he is! How do you not know these things?”

They had finished setting up camp when Captain Morgan came riding back alone. He winked at Jean and handed his horse to Steve-e-Joe. “Don’t bother taking him to the stable. I’ll be riding back in a minute.” He turned to Sergeant Jones. “Assemble the men.”

“At once, captain.” He walked a few paces in multiple directions, yelling at the top of his voice, “Sergeant Evans on me! And all the men!”

The distant voice of Sergeant Evans answered like an echo. “On me, men!”

In no time at all, the whole band of archers was gathered around the cook’s wagon. Captain Morgan waited until it was quiet then said, “Listen up men. The Duke of Suffolk wants us to put on a bit of a display for the rebels inside the castle gates. So I want each man to bring a dozen arrows with him and rags soaked in oil. We’ll be lighting up the skies tonight to let them know the Welsh archers are here with King Henry’s army.”

Goosebumps crawled all over Jean’s body at the thought.

“You want only a dozen arrows, captain?” one of the men asked.

“It’s just to show the citizens of York that the King means business. We’re not attacking tonight. You’ll be back in camp a couple hours after dark so those who got lanterns, bring them. Now pack up, we leave shortly.”

Captain Morgan went up to Steve-e-Joe. “You’re my squire so you’ll bring my lantern, and try not to let it go out.”

“What about me?” Jean asked. “You can’t leave my here.”

“We’ll be back before you miss us,” the captain answered with a big grin, “and we’ll tell you all about it.”