Read Online The Swashbuckling Yarn of Milady Vixen by Christopher Newman - Free Book Online Page A

her breasts lolled. She found herself a primitive creature, lustily squirming and impaled upon a meaty lance she so craved to be slain by. The slap of flesh was music to her ears. Her lover’s bull-like roar coursed past her right ear in perfect harmony with her shriller cries. Tom’s bottom rose fast and fell faster, each stroke blurring hot sensations into her body. His hands swung under the bunk to squeeze the voluptuous spheres and wring every last drop of pleasure from her body. The hammock swayed wildly.
    “I-I cannot…,” he bellowed.
    “Plunder me booty!” she shrieked. “Spare not one doubloon to remain!”
    Sorry, I couldn’t resist that last line. You will forgive an old storyteller, won’t you?
    Crushing his hips onto hers, Tom exploded, washing her with a hot discharge that lit the fuse on her carnal cannon. Vixen’s climax tore through her like a full broadside and made her wallow and shake like some stricken merchant ship. Her neck arched backwards, and she screamed out at the top of her lungs. Hammering his back with balled fists, Milady Vixen suffered deliciously with every spastic quake of her supple form.
    At last the battle ended, and the two lowers snuggled together to enjoy the calm, each one nestled against the other, sweaty and sated.
    I have found my mate, she slurred drunkenly to herself. The vixen has found its Reynard!
    Sleep overtook her.

All Is Delightfully Fair in Love and War
    Putting back out to sea, the crew of the Sea Fox knew their mistress had altered, changed in some manner. Her demeanor with them was business as usual. However, the sidelong glances and soft smiles she cast at the first mate didn’t go unnoticed. None dared to make a frolicking jest of it, for if Milady Vixen was anything, she was quite the expert with the sword. I would say they were respecting her wishes for privacy, but that would be a lie. In truth, the crew were flat-out afraid of her. Yet bawdy songs grew from this fabled relationship, singers clouding the true names of the persons in clever guises. If Vixen had not been in such a state of love, she probably would’ve slain the minstrels. As it was, she found them amusing. Love does this to people. Don’t ask me why; even at my age, I cannot fathom its power.
    After sacking and sinking a few of Effingham’s sloops off the coast and within spyglass range of that country’s shores, the Sea Fox , its hold heavily burdened with plunder, wallowed its way back to a Gaston port. Bright sunshine painted the decks, spars and sails when the lookout cried out a warning.
    “Frigate off the port bow!” the man in the crow’s nest shouted.
    At the wheel Vixen squinted over her shoulder and into the horizon, swearing under her breath. The vessel bearing down upon them was no lazily crewed cargo vessel, but a lean and hungry warship. Cursing her ill luck, she roared out commands.
    “Give me full canvas! Battle stations, ye rogues!” she thundered.
    “We’ll never outrun them,” Ginger Tom stated flatly. “We must stand and fight.”
    “Tom, have ye lost ye mind? That is a twenty-eight gun ship-of-the-line boasting thirty-two pounders for cannons. It be true our guns be of the same caliber, but we at best would last only a solitary broadside before she ripped us to kindling. She outguns this here brigantine two-to-one; aye, fleeing is our best option.”
    “She’s running light—I reckon she’s doing over nine knots.”
    “Arg, ye be right, and we’d soar out of her sights if’n we didn’t have a ship with so much booty she sails like a pregnant whale. If we tossed out all the ill-gained goods, we’d make over eleven knots or better. Aye, ye may be right—fightin’ is as good an option as we have.”
    “Look!” Tom exclaimed, “She turns her stern to the wind—we’re dead good and proper.”
    “Today was a good day.” Vixen smiled beautifully. “I am happy to die.”
    “I prefer to live another, but aye, I agree.”
    “They won’t take