Your Pussy Or Your Life 1 by loyalsock - Sex Stories

Your Pussy Or Your Life 1 by loyalsock

... was always the odd one who wanted to be a hero and they usually paid for that with a whack round the head which would see them out cold until McCabe had done the dastardly deed. One hot day in the summer of 1727, McCabe saddled up his horse and rode down to the coach road to see if anything was happening. The coach that ran weekly between the cities of Leicester and York would have passed a few hours before his arrival and, sure enough, the road was as quiet as a tomb, slumbering in the heat of a perfect afternoon. McCabe hung around for an hour or more and was just about to give up hope when he noticed it, a miniscule speck heading his way along the dirt road. There was no mistaking it and, as it drew nearer, he realised he was in luck. A private carriage with one of those old biddies he preferred, most of whom knew that to be fucked by Big Dick McCabe was something of an accolade, even if some of them did kick up a bit of a song-and-dance against it first. McCabe fastened his mask over his face and shook the reins and galloped on his horse down the hill to the road as the carriage drew nearer. It was occupied by two people, a woman in her sixties, he guessed, and a man some thirty-five years or so younger. As McCabe, his face obscured by the mask, reered up in front of them, the young man shook the reins and brought the carriage to a halt. &#034We haven't any money with us,&#034 he said, glancing at his female companion and assuming they were about to be robbed. ...

... &#034That don't matter,&#034 said McCabe, &#034I ain't interested in that.&#034 &#034Oh my goodness,&#034 said the woman, &#034it's Big Dick McCabe.&#034 The young man's eyes widened in horror. &#034We've heard of you, and I'll tell you this for nothing, you lay a finger on my grandmother and ...&#034 &#034You'll what?&#034 interrupted McCabe. &#034I .. er ..&#034 stammered the man. &#034It's alright, sweetheart,&#034 replied the lady, &#034if we both want to get out of this alive, I think Mr. McCabe should have his fun. Then we can all be on our way.&#034 &#034Grandmother!&#034 gasped the young man, horrified. &#034I can't let this man m***** you.&#034 &#034But it wouldn't be m*****ing if I agree to it, would it, sweetheart?&#034 said the woman, fluttering her eyelids at her grandson. &#034That's right,&#034 said McCabe, dismounting from his horse and rubbing the formidable-looking bulge that was tenting out the front of his trousers, &#034much more sensible to enjoy it. May I ask to whom I will be having the pleasure?&#034 &#034I am Lady Sarah Ponsonby-Smythe,&#034 the woman said grandly, in rich aristocratic tones, &#034and this is my grandson, Hugo.&#034 &#034Well now,&#034 said McCabe, &#034I think Hugo ought to take himself off behind the trees so he can't see what I'm gonna do to his old granny.&#034 &#034No!&#034 cried Hugo, jumping down from the carriage, &#034you ain't gonna do this.&#034 &#034Shut up!&#034 replied McCabe threateningly, pointing the gun at Hugo's head. ...