The Highwayman

None but the most observant would have noticed the chestnut stallion standing motionless between the tall oak trees, and even then found it even more difficult to see the masked figure in the tricorn hat astride the beast

Davey pulled his cloak tighter around himself, feeling the bitter north wind cutting its path across the high moor. Autumn leaves blowing in angry circles about his horses' feet, causing the big stallion to stamp its feet nervously. He leant down and patted the strong neck of his trusty mount.

"Hush boy, not long now. I'll soon have us galloping through the night."

He knew the Falmouth coach would pass by on the narrow lane below him within the hour. Word had it, the new Magistrate and his lady would be aboard, with their servant, and, of more interest to him, their purses and jewels. For Davey was a highwayman, he had plied his trade in these parts for two years.

He knew well enough that to be caught would mean the hangman's noose, but he was a careful man, never gossiping of his trade in the local taverns. Too many of his profession, he had seen swinging from a gibbet for doing that.

Then a prick of light caught his eye, a lantern's feeble glow showed in the distance. The Falmouth coach was approaching. Pulling back his cloak he checked the two flintlock pistols in his belt, handsome pieces, he had taken from a pompous army Colonel some year or more ago. The man had shown some resistance to parting with them, but a ball from Davey's own piece at his feet had soon persuaded him otherwise.

As the coachman rounded the bend he was confronted by the fallen branch across the narrow road. Cursing, he got down from the driving bench and took hold of it.

Ĺ

"Can't shift the bugger, get down here, a give us a hand," He called to the coaching guard seated on the rear step of the coach.

Davey smiled to himself as he sat on his horse in the darkness. It had taken the strength of his mount to pull the branch into place, and he knew no one man would move it. Quietly, he urged the horse forward until he was between the coach and the sweating coachmen.

"Stand and deliver. Your money or your life!" Davey yelled, his two pistols drawn and cocked. One was pointing at the two coachmen, the other at the portly gentleman staring, wide-eyed out of the coach.

Eyeing the coachmen, he said, "I have no quarrel with you men, be off with you, or it's is a ball between the eyes for you both." The two men looked at each other, turned and fled.

Davey dismounted his horse, and striding to the coach, pulled open the door. He surveyed the scene with the practised eye one of his profession needed to survive. There were two women sitting huddled together on one side, and the portly man on the other. No weapons were visible, but he knew better than to trust to luck.

He placed the barrel of one pistol against the man's head and said. "Ladies, would you be as kind as to lift your skirts. Many a weapon has been known to nestle in such fine surroundings."

One of the women, obviously the maid, burst into tears.

The other woman turned to the maid, saying, "Hush, Mary! Don't distress yourself, I am sure this 'gentleman' means us no harm."

And without a moment's hesitation, she drew her skirts and petticoats up to her waist. Underneath, she was wearing white pantaloons, which extended to just above her ankles.

"Maybe you wish to check here as well," she said in a haughty voice, and opened her legs wide. In common with the design of the day, her underwear was open at the crotch, and Davey could see a hairy gash in the twinkling light of the coach lanterns.

He smiled and placed the barrel of his other pistol directly between the lips. Here was a lady who, unlike her crying maid, was not one to be intimidated easily. She held his gaze without a blink, in fact, Davey thought he could detect a slight smile on her painted lips.

"No, my lady, I think any weapon that was hidden there is not designed to do me harm," He said with a laugh. "Now you girl, the same if you please."

The poor young girl shook her head, but was too frightened to speak.

"Come on, Mary, it will take but a moment." Her mistress said, and leaning forward lifted her maid's skirts.

Unlike her mistress, the maid wore no underwear, and her naked cunt came into view. Davey noticed the portly man's piggy eyes twinkled at the sight, and he wondered how often he pleasured himself at her expense.

"Well, sir, it would appear the ladies have no baubles hidden along with their treasures, so maybe you have some on your person," Davey said prodding the man's fat belly with his pistol.

"You scoundrel! Do you not know who I am? Remove your mask, so I may see the face of the rogue that would distress my wife so."

"Remove my mask? Why, to do that would be to sign my death warrant. You and your corrupt cronies would have a noose around my neck before cockcrow." Davey snarled. "Now your purse if you please, and that fine ring on your finger."

"My purse you shall have, but the ring, no. See, my fingers are too fat for it to be removed." the man held out his hand to show.

A scream broke from the man as Davey drove the heel of his thigh boot hard into his groin. "A broken finger, or broken balls, your choice," he said.

As the man struggled to pull the ring from his fat finger, Davey looked at the lady sitting opposite. She had a slight smile on her face, and as their eyes locked, she gave just the merest nod of her head. Davey smiled and pushed his heel harder into the man's balls.

With a grunt of pain, the man wrenched the ring from his finger and gave it to Davey.

"Hmm, a fine ring. T'will fetch a guinea or two I'll wager," He said, as he slipped it into his pocket along with the man's bulging purse.

Turning his attention to the lady he spotted a diamond pendant around her neck.

"I'll take that bauble if you please, my lady,"

"If you want it, take it. I will not help you," she said, her green eyes flashed, but not in anger, more in amusement. "The clasp is at the back, be a shame to break the chain for the sake of a second."

Davey slid a hand down her slim swan-like neck and released the clasp. As he lifted it from her body, he felt her shudder as he allowed his fingers to linger on her throat, a few inches above her heaving breasts.

"Pleasure doing business with you," Davey said with a laugh, as he swung his leg across his horse's saddle and galloped into the night.

But his mind was filled with the thought of the lady, she needed more than the fat magistrate between her legs. She needed the hard cock of a highwayman, his cock, and she was going to get it.