Indian Aunty 35

By then the two soldiers who had been trying to pin the other woman to the dirt had scrambled to their feet and were going for their stacked weapons, both with foreflaps undone.I yelled, "Halt!" loud as I could, and one stopped while the other dove for his musket. I yanked my big pistol from the back of my belt, leveled it on my forearm and fired in his general direction with a load of buckshot. I was about to attack the other Hessian who was standing with arms outstretched, looking hopeful, when someone cried "Stop, halten," and the girl with the bloody nose who was just climbing to her knees cried, "Behind you!"I ducked and spun about to face a big man with a sword in his hand. He leapt gracefully from the carriage door showing me his teeth and whirling his weapon. I parried his first thrust and cracked him in the side of the head with the stock of my musket. It made a sound like striking a ripe watermelon with the flat of your hand. The girl behind me screamed as he fell.I turned. Dora really thought that it spoke well of TT that his first concern was for the baby. “No, TT, something else. Please read this,” as she thrust several printed sheets of paper in her hand. TT walked into the living room and saw Mr. B, Chris -- Dora’s husband -- was standing near the wall, not saying anything. TT shivered slightly at the atmosphere in the room. She felt confused but kept her focus on the paper. It didn’t take long for her to realize what she was reading. It was a story, a very erotic story about a father and his teenage babysitter, also named “Chris” and “TT”. She was surprised at the intricate detail, almost like she was reading a description of something that had happened, although she knew nothing like it ever did. She didn’t even think Chris would have those sorts of thoughts about her.“Mrs. B . . . this is . . .”“Just a story, I know. Chris wouldn’t have the balls to actually do anything about it.” She said scornfully. TT caught why she was feeling.
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