The Abolitionist’s Secret

by Becky Lower

  David’s hand brushed over her core, his fingers tickling her thighs, then swooping back again to her center. His finger ran down the slit, where she was most embarrassed to discover she was dripping with wetness. His finger slickened with her dampness. She moved under his hand.

  “Shhh, it’s perfectly normal for you to be damp, my love. That shows me how much I excite you. Lie back and let me touch you.”

  “But, are you damp, too? Am I exciting you?”

  In response, he took her hand and placed it on his hard shaft. Surprised, her hand jumped back, as if she had just touched a hot stove. Gently laughing, he took her hand and placed it again on his manhood.

  “I ache for you, Heather. You can ease that ache by just holding me and rubbing me up and down.”

  She had to admit, touching him and knowing she was responsible for his most private part to be this rigid was a heady feeling. As she explored him, he was continuing his ministrations on her lower half. She thought the whole experience a most delightful way to spend the evening, and fell into a languid sensual mist. If this is what they must do to get through the yearlong wait for marriage, she could get used to this treatment. Then, she noticed a shift in David’s hand as his thumb grazed over the most sensitive spot, that little nub between her legs that she wasn’t aware of prior to this evening. She gasped at his touch and her hand that was touching him sped up its motions, mimicking the rhythm he was setting at her core.

  Heather’s body tightened as her excitement grew in time with David’s thumb brushing over her center. For several minutes, the air was filled with their joint gasps of delight, and their heavy breathing as they each were swept away on a tide of desire. Heather’s body tipped over the edge and she exploded at the same time she sensed David’s trousers dampen and his shaft pulse beneath her hand.

  Heather moaned as her spinning head quieted and her heart rate slowly returned to normal. She reached out to David and kissed him again. His weight cloaked her body as they recovered from their lovemaking. David moved away from her and sat up, pulling her along with him. They sat, entwined in each other, for several minutes.

  “What just happened?” Heather asked innocently as she set about pulling her dress back into place.

  David smiled and kissed her hand again. “You just experienced your first climax, darling. I can’t tell you how satisfying it is to know that I’m the first man to give you that pleasure.”

  “And we can do this without the possibility of me having a baby as a result?”

  David laughed softly. “There’s much more to lovemaking than what happened here tonight. But, if we refrain from doing more than what we just experienced, we can be certain you will not become pregnant before we marry.”

  “How wonderful!” Heather reached up and took his face in her hands. “May we do it again?”

  David laughed, and leaned her back on the couch once more. “Actually, there are a few more tricks I can show you, if you’re up to a lesson.”

  Heather smiled as David lay on top of her. “I can’t become a good teacher without taking some lessons of my own. This feels so right and good, having you so near to me. Please show me how to pleasure you.”

  David groaned as he rolled to one side of Heather and began to undo his damp trousers.

  • • •

  The following evening, Jericho swung by the overseer’s house. Heather and Colleen were resting on the porch after their evening meal, and attempting to catch the slight breeze that wafted over the hill when they noticed the young man casually stroll by the home. Heather was delighted to see him, and invited him inside for his first lesson in reading and writing. It took only a few minutes for him to overcome his shyness and to begin asking questions.

  “I’m going to teach you to write your name, which will be very important for you to know once you become a free man.”

  “Does you really think that’ll ever happen, ma’am? That I’d be free someday, I mean.” Jericho’s large light brown eyes gazed up at her.

  “I most certainly do think so, Jericho, and it will happen before you reach adulthood. So, we need to get you started. Let’s begin with the first letter of your name. Jericho has seven letters in it; the first is the letter ‘J’. Can you think of any other words that begin with that letter?” She repeated the sound to him, and watched with amusement as his brow furrowed in concentration.

  “June bugs?”

  Heather clapped her hands. “Yes, very good. I have a twin sister named Jasmine. Do you think her name begins with the same letter yours does?”

  Jericho took a deep breath. “Yes’m?” he guessed.

  “Absolutely. And here is how you draw the letter ‘J’.” She drew the letter on her hand-held chalkboard, and then gave the chalk to Jericho to use. She was pleased when he drew the letter perfectly. As the lesson moved along through the remainder of Jericho’s first name, Heather was pleasantly surprised by his aptitude. Jericho was a natural learner.

  “We’ll stop there for the night, so you can get back home. But any time you have a spare minute, you can draw those letters, either in the dirt, or on your hand. You don’t need the chalkboard. After all, practice makes perfect. Tomorrow, we’ll tackle your last name, Whitman, and you can learn even more letters.”

  Jericho held his head between his hands. “How many letters is der, ma’am? Will der be room in here for all of dem?”

  Heather laughed. “That’s a very good question. There are only twenty-six letters in the English alphabet, from which all the words are made. You’re already well on your way. In just this one night, you’ve learned seven of them.”

  “But I wants to learn them all, just as fast as I kin. I wants to be ready when freedom comes.” Jericho flashed her a smile before he took his leave.

  Satisfied that she had at least one pupil, Heather sighed as she picked up her chalkboard and chalk and put her supplies away. She would have to figure out an escape route for young Jericho and any others who might be enticed to learn. It was better to be safe than sorry. And with Susan Whitman still so close, Heather had to be prepared for the worst possible scenario.

  Chapter 22

  A couple days later, Susan Whitman and Blanche Beaufort were back in the parlor for their afternoon tea. “My dear, I think it’s time to fight fire with fire,” Susan glanced over at Blanche with a serious expression on her face.

  Blanche leaned over to be closer to Susan. Even though they were alone, she whispered, “Do you mean … ?”

  Susan took Blanche’s hand in hers. “Yes, my dear, that’s exactly what I mean. Nothing else has worked. I just know David is having sexual relations with the little strumpet every evening. I’ve watched him leave here after dinner and ride out to her. He stays with her for hours. And there’s nothing I can do about it. If this northern whore is welcoming my son to her bed every night, how can we possibly compete with that, unless you do the same?”

  Susan watched as Blanche swallowed hard. “But I’ve talked to Daddy about not buying the property from David. Surely, that will help. I know they’ve already had one conversation about it, and David left unsatisfied.”

  “And he probably went straight to his woman, who did satisfy him.” Susan raised an eyebrow to Blanche. “We need more than your Daddy’s denial to buy the property. You know what I’m suggesting.”

  Blanche gulped in a breath before she replied, “But you know I’m a virgin! I’ve resisted every temptation that’s come my way in the past year, even Robbie Johnson, because I was waiting for David to come to his senses and return home to marry me like you and I planned.”

  Susan clapped her hands together. “That’s perfect. You will lose your maidenhead to David. Then, being the proper young man that he is, he’ll be forced to marry you to salvage your reputation.”

  “Surely you can’t be serious. My maidenhead is not something I take lightly. I have guarded myself against all who would have liked to have their way with me, like any good southern girl, in order to be in
tact for my wedding night.” Blanche clutched her stomach as she glanced over at Susan. “Isn’t he in the same position with Heather? Hasn’t he taken her virginity, too? And is thereby duty bound to marry her?”

  Susan tapped her fingers on her leg as she glanced impatiently over at Blanche. “My dear, do you really think that woman was a virgin when she met David? How else could she have tied up my son so quickly unless she offered him sex the first time they met? Oh, yes. She’s a clever one. She enticed him with her body, not that she has much of one from what I’ve seen, right from the start, and he’s behaving like a little lap dog, responding to her every command. Obviously, it’s the lure of sex that she’s using to get her way with him. You would think he’d never experienced it before, from his behavior around her. We have to break them up, and you’re the one who can do it, using your own lure.”

  “But, Mother Whitman, if you are right about her background, I am not skilled enough in the art of lovemaking to keep pace with her.”

  “Well then, perhaps you should start with Robbie Johnson and navigate your way up to my son. However you do it is not my concern. But, if we are ever to drive a wedge between David and Heather, you must offer yourself to him in such a way that he won’t be able to resist.”

  Blanche pondered Susan’s idea. “Perhaps I could do that. Begin with Robbie, I mean … ”

  “Just don’t get carried away with Robbie and give away your most precious gift, Blanche. I want you to save that for David. Just take a lesson or two from Robbie on the fine art of seduction. Try out some things on dear Robbie to see what arouses his desire and then come back here and do the same to David. When do you think you can get started?”

  “Oh, I’ll go to Robbie this afternoon,” Blanche replied with an eagerness in her voice Susan had not heard before. “I’m certain he’ll not know what to make of my visit, after years of trying to woo me, to no avail. It’ll be fun.” She clapped her hands together in excitement.

  “Then, this evening, I want you to come here, to David’s bed.”

  Blanche gazed at her confidant. “I guess I hold all the chips now, don’t I?” She ran her fingers through her wispy blonde hair.

  Susan shifted in her chair, uncomfortable with the shift in power. “Just don’t forget who gave them to you.”

  • • •

  Blanche stood outside Bellewood mansion. It was past midnight, and she had ridden over alone from her neighboring plantation. She tied her horse to a tree and waited in the darkened yard, looking up at the huge white house. She loved this house, and Bellewood. It was the house she had always thought would be hers someday. She got a huge lump in her throat and tears filled her eyes as she realized her dream was slipping away from her.

  Susan had left the door unlocked as planned, so Blanche would have easy access to David’s room. A month ago, when she got the news he was leaving his post out west and heading home, she was so excited. After all, she and Susan had been planning a wedding at Bellewood for years. But Blanche was to be the bride, not this Heather person that David had brought home with him. And Jacob was to have been her husband, not David. The tears that had filled her eyes spilled over, stinging her cheeks. She wiped them away as she continued to look up at the window that she knew was in David’s room. Bellewood and the rest of her dreams were still attainable. She could do it. All she had to do was to enter his room and seduce him. It was really so simple. Blanche sighed heavily as she pondered what to do.

  To be honest with herself, it wasn’t Heather’s presence that was getting in the way of fulfilling her dream. Or the loss of Jacob a year ago. It was Robbie Johnson. She had done Susan’s bidding this afternoon, and gone to Robbie’s home, in the hopes of getting some lessons in the fine art of seduction. Blanche knew all it would take with Robbie was to show some sign of interest, and he would follow her around the yard, like always. After all, they had toyed with each other’s affections for years. Blanche had been unwilling to pursue anything with Robbie while Jacob was alive. She was happy with the arrangement that she and Jacob would be wed and could find no reason to doubt her parents’ choice. But it never hurt to have a suitor in the wings, and Robbie filled that role well.

  But after Jacob’s death, and with David out west, she had welcomed, and even encouraged, the attention Robbie had cast her way, even though her heart belonged to Bellewood. Still, a girl like her didn’t have too many opportunities for flirtation, so she basked in the glow of Robbie’s attention.

  When she arrived at his home unannounced this afternoon, she knew her behavior would send a signal. After all, Robbie was a gentleman farmer, living alone on the outskirts of town with just a couple of slaves to help him. Any woman was taking her reputation in her hands when she called on a man living by himself. It just wasn’t done. She timed her appearance to coincide with him coming to the house for his evening meal. She sent the female slave who was preparing the dinner away, and took over her chores, placing the meal in front of Robbie herself. She paused as she remembered his words when he first became aware of her in his house.

  “Well, aren’t you a delicious surprise,” He purred as he walked into the kitchen from the fields. He immediately forgot about the meal and wrapped his arms around her, feasting on her lips instead. She laughed and shooed him to the table, where she dished up the meal.

  He sat at the rough-hewn table and pulled her onto his lap, ignoring the feast in front of him. Blanche sensed his erection under her bottom and she giggled like a schoolgirl, returning his kisses.

  “I thought you might enjoy your meal better with a little something to wash it down.” She reached across the table and poured him a mug of ale.

  He took a deep gulp of the ale before returning his attentions to her. “I can think of something else I’d rather taste.” He brought his mouth back to hers.

  She ran her fingers through his wheat-colored hair, which was a bit longer than most southern men wore it. “You know, Robbie, I have always liked the way you look.” She ran her hands over his chest, which was hard and trim from laboring alongside his slaves every day. His face glowed with a healthy tan, and his hair had sun-kissed highlights. Blanche ran her hands over his cheek and wove her fingers back through his beautiful hair. “And I like the way you feel.”

  Robbie’s callused fingers ran over her cheeks as his tongue begged for entry into her mouth. She gasped in delight and he took advantage of the opening to invade her mouth and do delicious things to her. Blanche moaned and squirmed in his arms, making Robbie’s ardor ratchet up a notch.

  He pushed the meal out of the way, and meat, potatoes, and dinnerware crashed with a thud to the floor. Blanche registered the thunder of the crockery as it broke into pieces, but she was so caught up in the unusual feelings Robbie stirred up in her to think much of it. Her heart beat out of her chest as he bent her back over the top of the table and ran his hands down her body, cupping her breasts. Her breath came in ragged bursts, matching his. No man had ever touched her breasts before, and she now wondered why she had denied herself the pleasure for so long.

  “Oh, Robbie,” she wailed, and begged him to continue his exploration.

  When he moved his lips, and removed his wicked tongue from her mouth, she moaned her displeasure at the loss. But then he locked onto one of her breasts, sucking it through the cloth of her dress while still fondling the other. Her nipples budded and became hard little nuggets under his hands, and her body, with a mind of its own, rose up to beg for more. She had no idea sin could be this delightful. The room spun around as Robbie drove her wild with excitement. She moaned again as Robbie undid the buttons of her dress and pulled a breast into the open air. His hot breath blew across it as he took the tip into his mouth and suckled like a babe.

  And there was more. As Blanche remembered what else had happened at that dinner table, she backed herself up against a tree in the Bellewood yard and let herself relive the afternoon again. She had thought of little else since she left Robbie’s side.

&n
bsp; She closed her eyes and revisited the wonder of Robbie’s mouth sucking on her breast. She lost track of time as she lay on the table in Robbie Johnson’s kitchen, with unexplored sensations riveting her body. She was getting damp again between her legs now as she thought of Robbie’s lips on her bosom.

  But Robbie had done much more than torment her breast. He wove a hand under her skirts and began to caress her thigh. She knew she should protest, but her mind only registered the shivers of delight he was evoking in her body, which ricocheted in every direction out from her core. She gasped, she moaned, she moved like a wanton under him. When he reached her center and began to stroke her curls and delve into the wetness, she cried out in delight. When he pushed his hard erection into her, she opened her legs and begged for more. Yes, Robbie Johnson had taken the prize she had meant to give to David. But Robbie didn’t just take it. Blanche had given it to him with no regrets.

  As she pulled herself together and rose from the table, she could barely believe what had just happened. She had sex, for the first time ever, and it was on a crude table in the kitchen of Robbie’s home! She left her precious maidenhead on the top of that little table. If Susan Whitman thought Heather was a whore, what would she think of Blanche’s wanton behavior? Robbie proposed to her immediately after he took her, and she accepted. He could not stop kissing her and caressing her, and she let him lead her to the bedroom for another sensual coupling before she left his side. Now, Robbie and her father would work together to make Robbie’s farm as expansive as her father’s was. Blanche couldn’t wait to return to Robbie’s side and to his bed.