Life in the Sleepy Village went on. Katrina spent her days helping Ichabod with school and letting him play with her afterward. His favorite activity was laying her on the table in front of the classroom, crawling up under her skirts, and tasting her, until she swooned in blissful orgasm. Then he would flip up her skirts, drop his breeches and fuck her to another one, pulling out at the last minute, and ejaculating all over her blonde bush. Even though she could not seem to gain control over him, the way he made her feel seemed worth the sacrifice.

At least twice a week she would return home dripping with his cum. She would retire to her room with Anne, if she was not otherwise occupied with Katrina's father. and the two of them would play with the copious amounts of seed that the teacher left on Katrina's cunt. On Sundays, Katrina would go on picnics with Brom, finding a secluded place where she would kiss him to hardness, and using her hands and lips, and edge the poor man who was desperate to fuck Baltus' daughter. Elsewhere on the state, Baltus played with Anne on a regular basis. His favorite game was having the young girl sit on his lap with her skirt spread so no one could see the old man's cock as it entered and exited, pumping copious amounts of sperm deep within the young girl's eager cunt. Life was good for all.

The villagers were eagerly anticipating the great festival of All Hallows Eve, held every year at the Van Tassel Manor house, the social event of the season. People from all around would come by boat, carriage, or on horseback, to party the night away.  When the day arrived, servants were scurrying about meeting boats at the dock, gathering the children for games, prepping and serving mountains of food.

The adults partaking in a great feast featuring three pigs, countless ears of corn and of course endless rivers of beer. By the end of the day many had left, having great distances to travel: Across the Hudson to Nyack, up the river to the Village of Sing Sing or down towards Dobbs Ferry. Several people had even sailed up from New York City.

Brom, living just down the road was, of course present. Ichabod had found permanent lodging north of the village and had borrowed a semi-lame nag named Gunpowder to make sure of his arrival in the afternoon where he had hoped to ask  Baltus for Katrina's hand.  He found her in the kitchen and the two went in search of some privacy. They found it in the empty schoolhouse where Ichabod plied his tried and true methods on Katrina.

Ever the willing partner, Katrina allowed her suitor to shower her cunt with kisses until she came. He mounted her, his hands all over her ample breasts, his cock slipping easily in and out of her willing cunt. When it came time to pull out Katrina begged him not to, so Ichabod left his considerable length buried to the hilt, pouring his seed deep in Katrina's womb.

They returned to the kitchen where Katrina resumed her duties overseeing the preparations for the feast and Ichabod went about his business. Brom, too, stopped in the kitchen and Katrina, still horny from her session with Ichabod, took the strapping young man to a secluded place. She pulled down his pants and sucked him off, promising him an opportunity to taste her charms. With a mouth full of his salty seed, she kissed him, letting him know how much she enjoyed his taste. He was not impressed.

She told him that he had better get used to it, if he wanted her for a wife. He might become master of the estate, but she was the master in the bedroom. She flipped up her skirt and directed him to lick her pussy. 

"Get used to it." she said, "Until we are married, the only thing touching this will be your tongue." Reluctantly, he complied, burying his face in her bush and licking her to orgasm. When done they went back to the kitchen. Katrina resumed directing the staff and Brom went out to organize the bonfire.

Once the bonfire was lit, the adults sat about telling ghost stories, trying to frighten the children, who reacted as expected, much to the amusement of the adults. The children, however, were not the only ones unnerved by these tales of less than friendly spirits. Ichabod cringed in the corner as Brom related the 'Legend of the Headless Hessian of the Hollow.' The fact that Ichabod had to travel over the bridge north of town, past the cemetery, where, it was said, the Revolutionary War soldier resided, worried him to no end. Finally unable to stand anymore talk of beheadings and revenge, Ichabod made his way to Katrina to bid farewell for the evening.

The two walked behind the mill and Katrina knelt down in the shadows. She unbuckled his pants, allowing his impressive member to spring free. Between long, drawn-out sucks, she told the teacher that she had decided to marry Brom, so their picnics would be a thing of the past. Ichabod was saddened at the news, as he was certain that he would become lord of the manor. After all, the two had fucked shortly after his arrival in the afternoon. Katrina's adeptness at keeping her gangly suitor focused, resulted in one last drink from his formidable hose. 

Waving at the children and promising to see them Monday morning at school, Ichabod mounted his horse and strode away toward the cemetery and the bridge. As he approached the bridge over the Pocantico River he heard a noise behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the most frightful thing. Cantering toward him was a headless soldier in Hessian green, holding a lit Jack-O-Lantern. Ichabod screamed, kicked the flanks of his horse and, remembering the details of the story, headed for the far side of the bridge, and safety. Turning again, he saw the pumpkin sailing through the air at him.

Monday arrived at the estate, but Ichabod did not. Someone found Gunpowder grazing on the far side of the bridge next to a smashed pumpkin and Ichabod's tricorn hat, but no sign of the schoolteacher. He was never heard from again. Rumors abounded, including one that had a gangly man with a prominent hooked nose married to another landowner's daughter up in Kinderhook. No one by the name of Crane lived up there.

Baltus died from a heart attack just as he and Anne, the scullery maid had completed one of many sessions in his bed. He had the biggest smile on his face. Katrina did marry Brom. Just as she promised, he became lord of the manor, but she ruled the bedroom. He woke up every morning exhausted and empty. She woke up dripping his cum from nearly every orifice.

She bore him six children, all but one of which resembled their parents; stocky blonde boys and busty blonde girls. The exception was the oldest boy. He was tall, skinny, dark hair, a hooked nose, and had a love of books. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the real Legend of Sleepy Hollow!