Rowena of Locksley Chapter 3
She leaned forward and gave him access to her tight little brown eye with his huge cock.
ROWENA OF LOCKSLEY CHAPTER III
When Rowena went back to the safety of the forest after her sojourn with the randy gentleman and his paramour, she found Blowsie had already moved back into the camp. In her very own words,
“The convent life is not for me and that is a fact. Those nuns can really get on one’s nerves, let me tell you.”
Her spies from Nottingham were waiting for her and told her,
“The tax collectors from Prince John are squeezing the Sheriff for more treasure. They are fanning out this very morning to drain the villages of every last copper hidden away. Some of the Locksley folk are trekking in this direction to avoid the tax men.”
Rowena was disturbed by the troubling news but she was not yet ready to push the panic button.
She gathered the elite warriors of the outlaw band and told them,
“We will set up an ambush on the tax men after they finish their dirty work. That way, we can teach them a lesson and recover the stolen funds as well!”
She hesitated to take Roland, the aging Knight with her on the mission to recover the “peoples” money. It was not because of his advancing years, but because he was an “old school” warrior who never allowed his enemies to escape the wrath of his axe. She cautioned him that they were more interested in recovering the money stolen from the villagers than in seeking retribution from the tax men sent by Prince John.
He nodded his head in agreement and told her,
“I smell the musk of copulation all about you, mistress. You need to go to the river and bathe away the scent of whoever caused your juices to flow so pungently.”
Rowena had to smile. It was certainly a roundabout way of telling her she smelled bad. No, the old axe man was quite correct. She immediately took fresh attire from the closet and headed to the quiet smooth running river to the rear of the encampment.
She stacked the dirty clothes next to the clean set and waded into the tingling water. The bit of soap in her fist was more than enough to refresh her skin to its normal immaculate condition. Just before she started to rise out of the swirling river waters, she spied the old knight squatting silently nearby with his axe at the ready in case they had unwelcome visitors.
“Thank you for guarding me, sir knight. I hope I am of more scented appeal to you now.”
“You would appeal to me even if you were covered in the river mud, my lady. It has been a sizable passage of time since I have bedded a female of your good looks and fair nature.”
Rowena rose up out of the water and bent over the stacks of clothing. She was in no hurry to dress and allowed the older knight to view her holes, both fore and aft, in their sparkling cleanliness.
She watched the knight rise up from his haunches and shed his jerkin and leggings. His impressive cock hung low between his legs and she watched it grow in amazement with widening eyes and open mouth.
“La, sir knight, you are possessed with a magnificent tool. I bet you took many a maiden for long rides on it with much delight.”
The old knight was a man of few words. He pushed Rowena’s head down and seized her hips to steady his target.
Rowena gasped loudly when the knight’s thick cock slid easily into her expectantly waiting pussy. He had mounted her with much expertise and she pushed back to get his meat in deeper inside her steaming core.
When he started to spank her flanks with a firm hand and an insistent thumb in her brown eye, Rowena knees buckled and quaked with passion. The wise old knight stroked her gently and then accelerated until she went into an uncontrollable orgasm. Only his strong arms kept her from falling in a heap on the grass.
After Roland had spent his load inside Rowena’s young tight pussy, he picked her up in his arms and carried her back into the refreshing river water to cleanse her once again. They dried off on the shoreline and returned to the encampment to ready for a joust with the tax men of Prince John.
They moved south into the farmland trying to keep to the available wooded areas. The outlaw band only felt safe in the deep forest where escape could take many directions.
Friar Alphonse went ahead to scout out the route to make certain they were not walking into one of the Sheriff’s famous ambushes. Several of the folk recognized them and scooted away for they knew where Rowena Hood’s band roamed, trouble was soon to follow.
Rowena held her bow loosely at her side with a sharply tipped arrow notched and ready. Her quiver was filled with mostly hunting arrows good for all game including tax men. A few of her combustible quarrels were safely wrapped and ready to create either a diversion or chaos.
The band entered a small farmstead and Rowena heard a ruckus behind the falling-down barn. She approached cautiously and peered around the corner.
The sight of Friar Alphonse’s rotund behind pumping into the skinniest girl she had ever seen brought a quick chuckle to Rowena’s lips. The devious and often wayward member of the clergy never failed to make her laugh with his silly peccadilloes. He looked guiltily over his shoulder at Rowena and the rest of the band and stammered out a greeting,
“Welcome to Farmer Wisefellow’s holdings. This is his friendly daughter, Rosamunde, willing to offer any traveler comfort on his journey.”
The not quite pretty, but yet not unattractive, Rosmunde shook her tiny bottom still occupied under Friar Alphonse’s meaty saddle. She was as thin as a rail with the exception of two perfectly formed globes in a luscious heart shape that comprised her pretty bottom. They bounced quite seductively when being taken from the rear and Rowena saw a few of her band were interested in plowing the new territory.
While they were preoccupied with their adventures with the farmer’s daughter, the old knight pulled Rowena behind the hayrack and pulled down her tight fitting pants. He looked over her shoulder to make sure none of the others headed their way and proceeded to make her take it from the rear standing in a puddle of pig slop. It was not the most romantic of couplings but Rowena was not one to fault an opportunity for such satisfying pleasure.
Rosemunde’s father, Endevour Wisefellow informed them that the Sheriff’s men and the tax collector’s had just departed his farm and were now at the farm of Jason Goodnight, the unfortunate farmer with seven daughters and no sons. The tax men were not interested in his Rosemunde because of a stated preference for females with, “a bit of meat on their bones!”
The daughters of farmer Goodnight were all of a buxom nature with acres of curved female flesh to pillow a man’s passion. Even the jaded minions of the Sheriff were enthused by the prospect of a night at farmer Goodnight’s holdings.
Rowena and Roland crept up close to the neighboring barn. The sounds of rollicking laughter and squeals of feminine joy filled the night air with rich sensuality. They did not have to see the scene to visualize the rolling hips and the rocking motions of serious copulation. Rowena felt an urge to have Roland mount her but she knew it was totally inappropriate in the dangerous situation. For some reason, the danger heightened her need for immediate coupling and she chastised herself for such immature weakness so typical of silly females. Roland sniffed the air and divined her arousal bringing a rare smile to his generally stern face.
They returned to the group and decided to move during the dark to the wooded area on the other side of the valley. The tax collectors would have to transit the narrow pass to move into the next fertile farm area with several farms for the picking. It was an ideal spot for an ambush and the trees would give the band an advantage and the element of surprise.
When they set up the ambush site, Rowena made certain they had two alternate escape routes in case the Sheriff’s men sniffed out the danger. She strapped into a high tree with great field of fire for her deadly arrows.
Roland swung down behind her and straddled her hips with his muscular body. She was all tied into the tree branch and unable to move unless she released the bindings. When she felt his huge cock begin to rub inside her rear cleft, she just leaned forward and gave the older man the access he needed to impale her tight little brown eye with his thick beautiful cock. Rowena shuddered with the restrained submission and gave up her inner privacy to the knight’s perverted pillage.
The branch shook freeing some browning leaves to flutter to the ground.
Friar Alphonse looked up unable to really see what was happening in the dense tree foliage. He smiled because his dirty mind could easily see through the dense and dark space and reveal the depraved activity above his head.
The sounds of the approaching Sheriff’s men and tax collectors put the entire band on edge waiting expectantly for their appearance. They allowed the file to pass halfway through the trap before the archers engaged the armed sentries at the front and at the back of the formation. After that, the remainder of the convoy was “easy pickings” for the outlaw band.
A quick shake down of the money chests gave them what they wanted and Rowena allowed them all to return back to the safety of the town minus the loot and their pack animals. It was a costly lesson but no shedding of blood to mar the harmony of the day.
The band fled quickly back to the forest and melted away into the hidden encampment. The next few days was spent distributing the stolen funds back to the rightful owners in Rowena’s much fairer re-distribution plan for the people of Nottingham and Sherwood Forest.