Sheeba My Neighbor Part II
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She Goes Both Ways Ch. 03 free porn video
The letter arrived some six weeks or so after Amanda arrived at Selby. That had been a trying and quite disturbing period not just because of the issues with the plantation and the dreadful situation developing between the North and South, but also because she had no sex with anyone. She had taken to masturbating frequently to relieve the frustration, but she knew that was not sufficient. She had always had a high sex drive and that needed satisfying, but the opportunities were as good as non-existent in Meldrim and even Savannah. So Amanda suffered, but knew full well that sooner or later and preferably sooner, she would have to take another lover.
The letter arrived by special delivery. Her heart started to pound when she saw the return address for it was The Western Spirit in Bristol, England. Taking it to her room, Amanda locked the door and with shaking fingers opened it and began to read.
My dearest Amanda,
I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for the wonderful time we had during your voyage to America on my ship The Spirit. I most sincerely hope that you enjoyed it and gained as much pleasure, excitement and satisfaction from it as I did.
There are two reasons for this letter.
The first, my love, is to advise you that I will be visiting Savannah very soon and would love to have the pleasure of your company for some or all of the three days I will be in port. I will telegraph the details to you as soon as I have them.
The second reason, Amanda, is that I want to tell you something. As I write this I am ten days into yet another crossing of the Atlantic. I have no female companion and to be absolutely truthful with you I feel incredibly frustrated. Since those wonderful days, and nights we had together, being frustrated is becoming a condition with which I am very familiar. I see you everywhere Amanda and every part of my body feels you and that instantly arouses me and makes me hard as I am now: for the past few weeks I have almost permanently been erect.
This feeling of sexual arousal with no means other than my hand to relieve it, is the prompt to me writing this letter.
I am dressed and sitting at the writing desk in my cabin. You will remember the oak desk as the one I bent you over, the one where you presented your bounteous buttocks to me and the one Amanda where I fucked your ass. That was such a thrill to me. I don’t simply mean the incredible sensation of having my cock in that wonderfully tight anus, but also the humility I felt when you offered that special place to me. For that, my dear, I offer you my undying thanks.
That said, Amanda, there were so many wonderful times that we shared. Right now, I want to ‘talk’ to you about some of them. At this stage I am removing my jacket and cravat and am hoping that will cause you to loosen your bodice. It may also persuade you to undo the buttons on your dress as I remove my shirt.
I sincerely hope, Amanda that you can recall my naked chest, that you can recall the way you stroked and caressed it and, as we got to know each other sexually, how you kissed, licked and sucked it. I can and do very clearly. As I sit here bare chested I am running my fingers over it trying desperately to replicate the feelings you gave me. Will you think about that? Think about your lips, tongue and mouth on the skin of my chest as my hands squeezed and adored your so wonderfully full breasts and receptive nipples that always exploded to my touch.
Soon Amanda I will need to undress completely. Please feel free to join me, my darling. To show me those breasts that I fell completely in love with, your rounded body, flat stomach and lithe thighs. To show me Amanda that rich thatch of your chestnut coloured pubic hairs and that pink slit that gave us both so much enjoyment. That slit that I stimulated with my fingers, sucked and licked with my mouth and yes, my dear fucked hard, long and often with my big, thick cock.
Have you dreamed about that since you have been home Amanda? Have you recalled it sliding up your wet and welcome cunt.
Join me my lover as I make myself naked. The memories of our times together and the vain hope that you may even now be baring yourself for me has raised my cock to its fullest. As you know it rears well up my flat stomach to nearly reach my belly button. At the moment, Amanda it is so hard and feels as if it might keep growing until it reaches past my navel. Would you like that Amanda? Would you like a ten inch cock to fuck you right now?
I have done enough. I hope you are stimulating yourself as I rub my balls and cock. There is no doubt that soon my cock will explode just as it did so many times with you, in you and on you. On your breasts, your belly, your thighs, your buttocks and so marvellously over your beautiful face. Today alas, it will be my belly and chest that receives my offering.
Please my dear, as I use my hands to have sex, make love to yourself. Do all those wonderful things to your awesome body that you did for me when we mutually masturbated as the other looked on. Yes Amanda, just as I am please fuck yourself for me.
Your most obedient servant, total lover and complete admirer
Richard.
Amanda was mesmerised by what she read. Over the years she had received many love letters, but never one with such sexual content as this. It was as if Richard was there with her in her bedroom and how, as she gradually undressed she so wished he was. It was difficult reading and undressing at the same time, but Amanda could not stop either so she coped with the difficulty.
She was not wearing a hoop and as she was at home expecting to see no one, not even Adam, she was wearing only one, thin petticoat and no corset, which made disrobing much easier. After removing the grey, cotton working dress she slipped her chemmi off and looked at her big, aching breasts in the full length mirror that she had recently had installed.
‘God they feel so full and warm’ she thought to herself cupping them and pinching her pounding nipples as, reading his letter, she recalled the times Richard had sucked and chewed them. The sensations from her fingers and from the memories of the captain were so strong that a low moan slipped from her lips. Wearing just her white, thin cotton, knee length pantelettes she moved to the bed. Standing beside it she turned so that once more she could see herself in the mirror. She watched one hand kneading her breasts and the other sliding down her body, past her waist and over the swell of her stomach to reach the thick thatch of pubic hairs. The drawers did not have a gusset and the legs were separated and sewn to the waist band thus making freer access to that part of woman’s body. Another low moan slipped from her mouth as she cupped her pubic mound, her fingers touching her soaked lips and the palm of her hand pressing on her clitoris.
She fell back on the bed her legs hanging over the side as both hands went between her legs. Although there was no need she removed her drawers so that she was naked, just as Richard had pleaded in the letter. It made her feel so aroused and free. Closing her eyes the memories of the five weeks that she and Captain Jarvis had been intimate as they crossed the North Atlantic, flooded into her mind.
Her hands went back to her breasts. She lifted them and bent her head so that she could lick and, just about, chew her nipples, an action that Richard had found so incredibly exciting. Recalling the times he had straddled her by her waist as she pushed the two tits together she did that now. She could almost feel the almond oil that he had poured onto the tips of them and let dribble down the sides and into her deep cleavage. And of course in her naked aroused state, with her lover’s letter running through her mind it was so easy for her to recall the memory of him leaning forward so that his cock nuzzled between them, She remembered looking up into his eyes as she pushed the fleshy mound
s together capturing his long, thick cock between as he whispered. ‘I am going to love your breasts Amanda.’ She recalled replying. ‘Yes Richard, fuck my tits’ as he started thrusting in and out of the surrogate cunt she was creating with her bosom.
And of course she recalled as clearly as if his cock was between them now it exploding and stream after stream of thick, gooey spunk splattering onto her neck and face.
The memories of the sex they had were so strong that quickly she felt herself starting to climax. Then the feelings broke over her and moaning and grunting as the tears flowed and her fingers probed deeply into her most womanly place she had a wonderfully powerful orgasm.
* Amanda had first met Oliver Strand at the Cotton Spring Ball in Savannah. Because of his fiftieth birthday, he was the guest of honour at the gala dinner and extravagant ball, although his status as Deputy Lieutenant General of the State of Georgia, would probably have guaranteed him that honour in any case. Except for the ceremonial figurehead, Will Cunningham, the aged Senator of Georgia and Lieutenant General, Oliver was probably the most senior and certainly the most powerful man in the state. He split his time between Georgia and Washington DC, where he had worked hard to establish a strong network of contacts. ‘Lobbying against this crazy idea to stop new slaves is my mission,’ he pompously told Amanda as they danced. ‘I have to succeed, or everything we have, all that is truly Southern will be destroyed.’ She nodded to him as they returned from the dance floor, his rather evangelical preaching falling on her deaf ears. She was more concerned that, having danced together several times, actually a few too many for decorum, that tongues would undoubtedly wag. Lieutenant General Oliver Strand didn’t care about such things. Why should he, when he was above mere mortal chit chat? However, the other women’s critical gazes didn’t escape Amanda, particularly that of his crone of a wife Mathilda and the last thing she was looking for was to make enemies. Taking a moment to study her host, she considered him to be a distinguished looking rather than handsome man. His fine head of silver hair was slicked back and the mutton chop whiskers, although still fashionable, for the South, had long gone in the north of the country and Europe. As with many men of his age and position in society in the South, Strand was slightly overweight, and his slight stoop made him appear a few inches shorter than his full six feet. ‘It sure is a real pleasure and honour to have you come back all the way from England Miss Amanda,’ he continued, once they had returned to stand by the table holding the punch bowls and mint juleps. ‘It was circumstances Mister Strand, not choice,’ Amanda said, waving her fan across her face, more to hide her eyes from him than to cool down. ‘Well the people of Georgia thank the lord for those circumstances bringing you home to us,’ he smoothly said, his eyes roaming all over her body. Amanda smiled sweetly. Her foresight in telling Oliver Strand the Deputy Lieutenant Governor of Georgia and by some margin the most influential man in the State that she and her brother Adam were considering selling the plantation was paying off. He had already advised her that disposing of such a prestigious and historic plantation as Selby Bluff required considerable thought and planning.
‘Particularly, my dear, in times like these,’ he continued, with a hint of a sneer in his gruff voice. Amanda was not excused the patronising manner he took to most people, particularly women, when discussing business matters. After all, ‘What could women know of such things?’ he was thinking as he took hold of Amanda’s elbow.
Amanda ignored his superior look and allowed him to steer her out onto the terrace. ‘Why is that? What planning?’ she asked, watching a plume of blue smoke hit the night air as he lit his pipe.
‘Nothing for someone as beautiful as you to worry about,’ he condescendingly told her. ‘Merely the fact that there are some new laws going through the State Legislature concerning such sales and, of course, cotton prices are not increasing as much as they have in the past due to this ridiculous recession. It’s merely a short-term aberration of course, for once we put real pressure on the Yankees they will resolve the recession, but it does complicate things, especially plantation sales.’
Although no economist Amanda knew that Strand’s reasoning about coming out of the recession was as weak as his argument that the South could pressure the North to end it. From her many heated discussions when she was married and lived in London she knew that recessions, although man made were not ended solely by the actions of man.
He finished with the look of someone lecturing a child, though the way he edged closer to press the sides of their bodies together suggested he thought of her as anything but a child.
‘Yes, I have been hearing rumours,’ she nervously replied, averting her eyes from him and looking out across the magnificent gardens to the distant river.
‘It’s mainly due to the Yankees ridiculous obsession with the labour market,’ he drawled, using the South’s euphemism for slavery as he slipped his hand around her waist. ‘It’s to protect our way of life,’
‘Oh, really,’ Amanda mumbled, feeling Strand’s fingers tighten through her clothes just above her waist.
‘Oh, yes,’ he smugly responded, sending another plume of smoke skywards. ‘Look, why don’t you come and see me soon and we can go through the rigmarole and such stuff?’ His hand inched along her waist and up a little as he spoke. Turning to face him, there was no way for Amanda to escape the leg that pressed against her skirt, pushing the hoop backwards. ‘Thank you sir, but alas I shall be leaving for a trip north shortly’ she replied with a smile, knowing that this man’s guidance would be invaluable, but wondering if she could get it without compromising herself?
‘May I ask where you will be visiting?’
‘Yes of course, Washington, New York and Boston.’
‘Wonderful.’
‘I beg your pardon sir?’
‘Sorry Missus Williams. What I meant was that I too spend much time in Washington where I have an office.’
‘I see.’
‘And it would give me great pleasure if you would honour me by visiting me there.’
‘I would be pleased to do so Lieutenant Strand.’
‘No title pleas, I will send you some available dates tomorrow,’ he told her, waving his pipe in the air. ‘You are staying in town tonight aren’t you?’
‘Yes Mister Strand, I am.’
‘Where, may I ask?’
‘The Eliza Thompson place, she told him, attempting to edge a step backwards.’
‘Yes, I know it. Will you be staying all day tomorrow?’
‘No my brother Adam will be meeting me for lunch and then we will ride to Meldrim.’
‘Well I will have some dates delivered early’ he told her, following her movement so that their shoulders brushed against each other. ‘It really isn’t something that such a pretty head as yours should have to worry about,’ he continued reaching up and rather indiscreetly given the short time they had known each other and the public nature of where they were, brushing a lock of her chestnut coloured hair away from her forehead.
Amanda smiled sweetly, her face showing him that she was grateful for the compliment. Inside, rage seethed. How dare this pompous man talk to her in such a way, and press his body so close to hers when his wife could come onto the terrace at any moment? But her instincts told her to hide her annoyance.
She knew how powerful he was and how useful he could be to her, pretty, delicate and female she might be, but at heart she was and always had been an opportunist.
Besides, his earlier offer was very attractive and if he could deliver as he claimed his assistance would be invaluable: perhaps their only chance of escape from what was looking more and more like a living hell. Could he real
ly help her organise things so that the estate could be available for sale to as wide a range of potential buyers as the State law permitted, she wondered using her business instincts? Or was that just a ploy to bed her, she wondered, letting her female intuition come into play.
‘So,’ she asked, wanting to fully understand what he had told her. She needed to explain this to Adam later. ‘Exactly who would fall into the category as a potential buyer?’
He smiled condescendingly again, knowing only too well that this ‘English’ beauty needed him. He could use that to his advantage.
‘That means all residents in all states beneath, but not above the Mason Dixon line or outside the Union,’ he explained. ‘And French, of course, but not British individuals and companies. It’s to stop people who oppose us buying up the cotton estates and freeing the slaves that way.’
‘But, pray, Mister Strand, does that not restrict the buyers who might purchase Selby Bluff’
‘Yes of course it does.’
She smiled again, wanting him to explain. ‘So what exactly are you proposing?’
He took a silent puff on his pipe before answering. ‘Well that is what the new State laws are there for and that is where I come in, Amanda,’ he told her confidently, resting his palm on the back of her hand. ‘I may call you by your first name, I hope my dear?’
‘Yes, of course’ she retorted quickly eager to glean more information. ‘But pray sir where do you come in? How is that?’
‘To our friends,’ he began, raising his eyebrows as if to suggest she should do everything in her power to remain one of his friends, ‘That is, those who are loyal to the Confederacy, we want to help, not hinder.’
‘I am not sure, sir that I am completely following you.’ There was more to this than met the eye, and Amanda wanted to pin down exactly what he was proposing?
‘Well, please, my dear, don’t worry your pretty little head about it too much, that is what I am for and where I will help?’ Strand said very patronisingly, leaning forward so his mouth was close to Amanda’s ear as he squeezed her hand.
Amanda returned his smile, but was determined not to be distracted. If she read it right, this man was offering to ensure the sale would go through to the right person at the right price. How could she get him to confirm that, she wondered?
‘I thank you sir, of course, but could you explain more?’
He took her hand and raised it to his lips, planting a smoke fuelled kiss on her skin. It took all her effort not to show her repulsion. His next words proved the wisdom of her keeping her feelings to herself.
‘There are ways and means, Amanda,’ he replied with a knowing look. ‘Ways and means around everything, if you know the right people.’
She had what she wanted! ‘And you, I assume Mister Strand are one of those?’ she smiled graciously, happy to receive confirmation that this was a man she needed.
‘Oh, yes, Missus Williams, I am very much one of the right people! And please call me Oliver.’
***
The trip to Washington DC went quickly, despite the rather tiresome delays due to the frequent changes of railroad made necessary by the state restricted nature of the companies. Just two days after leaving Savannah, they were checked in to the brand new and rather ostentatious Willard hotel on K Street, not far from the White House.
Their meticulously drawn up schedule allowed Amanda and Adam three days in the capital. They needed that time, with their individual contacts and old friends, many of who were involved with the government. The heavy schedule of lunches and dinners, balls, soirees and parties would be tiring, but worthwhile.
The more views they solicited in Washington, the more alarmed they became. They hadn’t anticipated the sheer strength of opinion against slavery in general and its extension in particular. Then there was the value of their plantation. It looked to be significantly lower than they had been led to believe down south.
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