A Ten Pound Bag
Chapter 138: Matrimony and Motivation

Copyright© 2020 by Emmeran

Contributing Muse: Tarasandia, 12 May 2021

Editor: nnpdad 14 May 2021

I can’t explain it, but in the midst of our mad rush to migrate all these folks to the edge of the frontier, everyone got caught up in the idea of a romantic engagement and impending matrimony. I felt truly sorry for both of the kids. He had to ask and she would certainly be pressured to accept joyfully. All of this, while both of them were dressed up in what still had to feel like costumes to them.

Amos, to his credit, still didn’t quite realize what was happening and all of us fellas who knew him were actually busy cajoling him. The problem was that none of us could see a way out, particularly after he admitted that they had slept together as ‘man and wife’ last night. Several times, in fact. That last point came after Jeb verbally wrestled it out of him.

Into the tub he went, to scrub up and the fellas happily gave him a hard time while he did until Aunty showed up. We were all in trouble but Amos most of all. I found myself dismissed from my own room after I pointed out Amos’s best clothes and the grooming gear that I had. That all didn’t matter as the Tailor rushed past me in the hall as I departed. It seems he had been fetched from the road and rushed here to attend. This was getting out of control, nobody was getting married until we got back to Rulo; they could have their storybook engagement scene but actual marriage was not allowed. If nothing else, these were both still legally my slaves and I wouldn’t allow it. My next stop was in the sitting room to speak with the illustrious Widow Mrs. Langdon.

The Captains were shown to what I was calling the men’s lounge or office. I took Grace into the front study to make my point privately and clearly. The privately part quickly became a problem, matrimony talk tending to make women either bitchy or randy. It seemed that randy to the extreme became the problem for me so I gave in and decided to oblige her.

The satisfaction was as short-lived and empty as the joy from a cheap bit of Halloween chocolate. She had lifted her dress and bent over a chaise lounge before I realized; so I dropped my pants and sheathed myself in a good old, modern condom. The most satisfying part was the sound of her ripping pantaloons as I split them at her request, everything else was truly too fast to enjoy. The suddenness of the event did not lead to stamina on my part and it wasn’t required on hers, she collapsed into release almost immediately upon my entry and continued those throes until long after my release a scant few minutes later. She was unable to talk for minutes after and somehow I managed to sit her on the chaise before a servant brought us in coffee. Not one of my greatest moments and I really would have preferred to avoid it altogether.

I had some coffee and a bit of the bourbon I had with me. I was hoping John would think to bring both bourbon and ale when he showed up and was considering sending a buckboard to fetch some. I roused Grace from her post-coital stupor long enough to enforce the idea that an engagement was allowable but there would be no wedding happening this quickly. She agreed and set to making herself a cup of coffee. I decided to have a bit of tobacco before I went to join the gentlemen waiting next door, I needed to collect myself.

Grace didn’t talk at all during that short time and after two polite conversation attempts I gave up and contemplated the vast number of women that had rolled through my bed since my downfall. The number had become depressing to me and I was privately ashamed that I hadn’t been able to avoid this encounter. I wasn’t condemning myself but I did find myself wishing that Mouse was with me, I was starting to think that I really wanted Mouse.

 
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