Spies of Manasses
Add: 10 September 2015 / 08:00
The summer of 1861 was typical of most summers in Washington, but things around the U.S. Capital were far less typical. The south had seceded from the Union and the streets were full of rumors of war and for Mrs. Rose Greenhow, times were even tougher. Rose, a widow, had used her status with the Washington Society to gain favor of one Henry Wilson of Massachusetts, the chairman of the Senate Military Affairs Committee. Tonight Mr. Wilson had invited her to an elegant dinner with many other diplomats, including President Lincoln himself.
Rose was a pleasant woman and her southern heritage had taught her not only how to be a lady but how to use her womanly attributes to get what she wanted. Her dark hair flowed down her back as one of her daughters helped her to pull the corset tight around her waist. Rose held her breath and gripped the bedpost of the iron bed. She looked into the mirror as her bosoms seem to expand as the corset tightened. Finally her daughter was done and she could breath. With a loud exhale, Rose moved toward her vanity and sat as her maids gathered around her to brush her hair and continue the preparations for the night’s activities. Rose heard a knock on the door, as the servants continued their work. In only a few minutes, Rose’s youngest daughter appeared with a sealed note, and handed it to her mother. Rose slowly broke the seal and opened the note and read it to herself.
There is reported movement near the area of Manassas. Please
Inform us of anything you may have heard.
Col. T. Jordan.”
Rose tore the note into many pieces before handing it back to her daughter with instructions to put in the kitchen fire. As her servants completed her hair, Rose picked up her perfume bottle and sprayed the sweet ointment on her neck and her bulging cleavage.
She stood from her vanity and sashayed out the bedroom door when she heard Mr. Wilson’s carriage pull up to door. With sweet goodbyes and instructions, Rose left her three daughters under the care of her friend Bettie, and rode off with Mr. Wilson to the dinner party.
The party was an elaborate occasion. Anyone who was anyone in Washington was there including Military officers, Congressmen, and even Mr. Lincoln himself. Rose had met the President a few times and she could not help but like the kind man, even though their political beliefs were contrasting. Rose walked around the hall attached to Henry’s arm. They greeted and talked with many of the guest throughout the evening.
Rose’s smile disguised her wandering eyes and radar like ears. Throughout the evening she was able to gather some interesting information about the Union's plan to wipeout the unproficient Confederate Army. As the evening began to expire, she accompanied Henry to his carriage and agreed to a night at his home.
Henry was full of wine, and in his drunken state, Rose struggled to help him get to his bed. As he fell on the feathered bed, Rose followed and let her breast press into his chest. She slid down his body and unfastened the suspenders that held his pants. One of the buckles hit him on the chin but his painful cry lasted a short time as he felt Rose’s fingers around his manhood. He kicked his pants off his feet with force, as Rose’s dress fell to the floor. In only her corset, Rose laid onto the bed as Henry assumed his position between her legs. She gasps loudly as she felt his thick penis push into her. She crossed her legs around his waist. She knew in his state, he would not last long, so she moved her hips in unison with his. In a very short time she felt his body begin to tremble and she gripped him tighter. His breathing became staggered as he arched his back. Rose felt him expanding inside her and could feel the increased wetness of his seed in her womb. She loosened her grip on him and he fell to her side. Before she could get sat up fully, she heard him snoring. She smiled as she looked down at him. She slipped out of the bed and headed to his office, where she found the information she needed to help the army of her government be triumphant.
The next morning, Henry had his coachman carry Rose home while he went to work on that day’s assignment. Once home, Rose rushed to her office and wrote the information she had gathered on her parchment and called for Bettie. When Bettie arrived, she handed the parchment to her with instructions to take the information to Col. Jordan. Bettie rolled the parchment tightly and pressed it into her hair bun and put on her bonnet and headed for Virginia.
Bettie Duval had recently turned 24 years old and was very popular with the young men of Washington. Her blonde hair and blue eyes accented her pretty face, but the dimples in her smile are what melted their hearts. Her breast bounced forcefully as her horse galloped down the dusty road toward Virginia. The trip would take her almost half of a day at this pace and she knew that time was not on her side.
She passed a battalion of Union Soldiers marching in the same directions as she was headed. She kicked her horse to rush past them. Unfortunately, her hastiness caught the attention of a mounted scout, and soon she had a follower. The Corporal stayed back, but Bettie sensed his presence. She didn’t have time for delays, but also knew she had to dispose of the obstacle or her mission would not be successful. She directed her horse to a nearby stream, in clear sight of the road. It was not long before she heard the hoof beat of the Corporals horse. Loosening the laces of her dress, Bettie allowed her ample cleavage to show as the Corporal approached her.
“Ma’am, may I ask what you are doing?” The Corporal asked, as he dismounted his horse and walked toward Bettie. The soldier could not control his eyes as they gazed upon the milky white globes as they bubbled out of her top.
“Just out for a ride, sir, no harm in that is there?” Bettie answered, her southern accent very prevalent to the Corporal, she smiled as she saw his attention being drawn to her cleavage. She slowly approached him, allowing him the opportunity to become mesmerized by her body. As she neared him, she stumbled on a rock. The Corporals trance was broken as Bettie fell to her knees. He placed his hands under her arms to help her up. Her hand quickly went to the Corporals belt. He froze. Within a matter of seconds she had the young officer's pants around his knees.
She took his penis is her hand and began to stroke it slowly. She looked into his eye as her lips parted. She took the Corporal into her mouth. She tightened her lips around his hard penis. She sucked him with purpose. Her lips moved back and forth, letting his penis touch the back of her throat.
She felt the Corporal began to tremble. She knew her plan was working. The poor soldiers had not been given womanly attention in months, and she used that to her advantage. She placed her hands on his buttocks and pulled him deeper as she felt the first jet of his seed hit the back of her throat. She could not take it all and let his erupting penis slip from her lips. His seed shot all over her exposed bosom.
The Corporal stumbled back against a tree with a big smile on his face. Bettie took advantage of his condition and remounted her horse and rode off before he recovered. The Corporal had put her behind schedule and she had to make up time. She kicked her horse, and lowered in her saddle.
The sun was sinking when Bettie rode into camp. The Confederate Army of the Potomac was preparing for the next day’s advancement. Bettie rode straight to the tent of Colonel Jordan. She pulled the parchment from her hair and handed it to the Colonel.
Quickly, the Colonel summoned his officers and they went into action to plan for the battle. Bettie excused herself and slipped into the darkness. The day's events had her exhausted. She still had the taste of the Yankee Corporal in her mouth and needed to rid of it as soon as possible.
A young pretty lady attracts a lot of attention in a military camp. Soon she was stood by the fire in front of the countless tents. An old soldier gave her his bottle and she drank and ample swallow to rid her of the taste as well as to help her relax.
She took slumber in a tent assigned to her by Colonel Jordan. She lay her head on the feather pillow and drifted off to sleep. She knew she had done all she could to help the cause.
The following morning she rose early. The camp was in a rush to prepare for battle. She mounted her horse and bid farewell to the Colonel and headed back toward Washington. She knew the battle was immanent but she didn't want to be caught behind enemy lines. She kicked her horse and rode into the fog.