Time Rider Ch. 02

Dark and musty, lit by wall sconces and an ancient wrought-iron chandelier overhead in which guttered many candles, the large common room was like something out of an HBO special, minus the lighting budget. Large, round table dominated the space, while a great hearth and a long counter encompassed most of the back wall. Lots of sun-browned peasant faces turned to look at them while some stringed instrument plunked away from a corner. The place smelled of smoke and what was probably body odor.

Still ignoring the stares, Becky led Mark up to the counter, behind with stood a surly-looking man with a black moustache and beard. He observed them with interest as they approached. Mark stood silently while Becky addressed the man in French.

"My lord the Baron is looking for clean and welcoming accommodations for the night," she began, indicating Mark. "Henri sent us to you, saying that you were the establishment in this town worthy of his business."

"If you can pay, then yes, we will be able to room you comfortably," he answered, looking at Mark. "Our best room is one livre per night. I assume the baron can afford this?"

She looked at Mark now. "A single night is one livre. Those'd be the silver coins. Get one out and just give it to him, without showing how much you actually have."

Mark nodded and fished out one of the coins indicated, putting it on the counter for the proprietor to inspect. Satisfied, the man nodded. "This will cover the room. If his lordship has need of a bath or food, we can provide these things as well."

"Fresh food?" she asked pointedly.

"Only the freshest for the lord," laughed the man loudly, causing people nearby to chuckle. "Is he a mute?"

"No, he is Spanish and speaks no French," she said flatly, fixing the man with a hard look. "You can speak to me, his servant, if you feel the need to communicate. You can bring him food now, and your finest wine, good sir."

She then turned and took Mark's arm, leading him over to an empty table in the corner, once again ignoring the gazes that followed them. She sat down and sighed, nodding.

"We'll eat and then see about the room and a bath," she declared, looking around and taking everything in. "If it's big enough, I'm sure we can get into all sorts of trouble in the tub."

"I'd like that," he said, finally relaxing. "I'm glad you're taking to this so easily, because I'm way out of my element. London in the 1880's was hard enough, and all I was doing was pretending I was an American traveller. France in the time of the Louis the Sun King, that's a little out of my league."

"Don't worry, once you hit your stride, you'll do fine," she said gently, patting his hand. "I've just had more weird experiences over the course of my life than you have and am adapting a little quicker is all."

A jug of wine, two goblets, some hearty bread with butter and some onions and cheese was brought over by a wench who looked like John Rhys-Davies in drag. She belched and tottered off, having delivered her goods.

"Although I'm not so sure about adapting to that." Becky said, shaking her head to clear it of the image. She unstopped the jug and poured the dark red wine into their goblets while Mark portioned out the bread, butter, cheese and onions. They both dug in, finally realizing how hungry they were.

"Oh, wow, that's good," Becky remarked, looking into her goblet, having tried the wine. "Just remember to eat a lot of bread and butter, Mark, or you'll have the hangover from hell."

He'd never had a wine quite like this before and they quickly polished off the jug before ordering another. They finished their bread and cheeses before being presented with a roasted suckling pig and two pheasants, stuffed with local herbs. They enjoyed eating, but the wine was strong enough to eventually get through all the food they'd lined their stomachs with. Becky was giggling and tipsy within the hour.

"I can't beli... believe we're here in France," she said, her head tilted to one side. "An' we're gonna fuck... in the tub... an' then in our room, because... because... defiling the timeline... sounds like fun. It's fun, you know, to fuck across history..."

"It is," Mark agreed, not as drunk as Becky but still feeling rather buzzed. His tongue felt thick from the wine, which she had explained was not treated with any modern pasteurization process and therefore would be full of tannins and sediments they would need to account for or suffer an assured hangover. "And you're the person I'd want to do it with, Becks..."

Becky giggled and slid her hand along his leg, finally arriving at his crotch and giving the bulged contained in the tight breeches a squeeze. "You're not... not a time cop... you're a time cock... timeless cock..."

Some musicians had come in a few minutes earlier and were sitting in another corner of the common room. They struck up a lively tune on their lutes, fiddles and a small drum. Becky's eyes lit up as the music reached them.

"Oh, I love this song!" she said loudly in English before hopping up from the table and dancing her way with abandon into the middle of the room. People watched on and began to clap and cheer as she stood on a table and began capering.

"How the hell does she know this song?" Mark wondered, frowning as he watched his Physics teacher begin to dance and sing.

Ah! Si mon moine voulait danser!

Ah! Si mon moine voulait danser!

Un capuchon je lui donnerais

Un capuchon je lui donnerais

Danse, mon moine, danse!

Tu n'entends pas la danse

Tu n'entends pas mon moulin, lon la

Tu n'entends pas mon moulin marcher.

Ah! Si mon moine voulait danser!

Ah! Si mon moine voulait danser!

Un ceinturon je lui donnerais

Un ceinturon je lui donnerais.

Danse, mon moine danse!

Tu n'entends pas la danse

Tu n'entends pas mon moulin, lon la

Tu n'entends pas mon moulin marcher.

Mark watched in wonder as she tottered back over and flopped onto the bench next to him, breathing heavily and perspiring. She grinned at him lop-sidedly and winked, still obviously rather inebriated.

"Why did you know the lyrics to that song?" he asked, utterly baffled.

She poured herself more wine and drained her goblet in one gulp, with a very loud GLUK! noise. Clearly, she was intent on partying.

"Went to... a Cath'lic school... run by nunsh..." she slurred, trying to fill her cup again. "Lotsh of shingin' to... keep our little teen girl mindsh... off sheksh... Fuckin' love that shong, used to shing that shong... all th' time... fuckin'... great to dansh to..."

"Yes, I noticed," he said, nodding and smiling. "You were almost flashing your tits and your pussy at the... the patrons..."

"They can peek... but noooooo touchy..." she said, taking another drink. "Thish pushy... only for you... I think... we'll shee..."

She turned and looked at him, her eyes glazed and her skin flush from her exertions. "We're here... t'gether, Mark, but... if you... y'shee a girl y'wanna fuck... I'm okay with- with that. "Jus' don' get the crabsssss-ss-ss-ss-ss-s-ss-s-s-s!"

She had broken into a snickering fit, pressing her forehead against the table as she tried to not fall over completely. Mark was chuckling and feeling really good watching how silly his teacher was being. She looked up suddenly, trying to wear a serious expression.

"But one thing," she cautioned, holding up a finger and wagging it at one of the Marks she was looking at. There were three of them, so she chose the one in the middle. "No, more'n one thing, but th' one thing'sh... important..."

She leaned forward to whisper to him. "Keep your dicky in your pantsh unlesh... unlesh you know she'sh eighteen... 'cush the lawsh right now... 'sh prolly legal to fuck 'em younger... but... you're from our time... our time..."

She glowered at him drunkenly. "An' we don' fuck 'em if they're not eighteen... y'got it?"

He nodded. "Eighteen or older. Got it. And you can... miss, you can-"

"Not mish," she interrupted, waving away his comment. "Becky. Not fuckin' mish, remem'er?"

"Sorry," he intoned, letting out a belch and patting his chest. The wine and cheese tasted great but were really fucking with him. "I'll be better... remember..."

"Well, what wash it I can do?" she asked. "You were gonna... shay... I could do... what wash it?"

Mark thought about that for a moment, unable to push through the wine-induced haze in his head. "I don' remember..."

They both broke into laughter, much to the amusement of nearby patrons. Becky had her head on the table again, giggling until Mark slammed his palm on it in an expression of entertainment, shocking her and making her yelp. They looked at one another and burst into more fits of laughter.

They'd drained another jug and polished off the pig and pheasants. Mark felt incredibly full, and drunk. Becky could barely stand up and she asked Mark to take her arm and lead them over to the proprietor behind the long counter once again. She shook her head a few times to clear it and he waited patiently for her to speak.

"Shir, we'll be needing the bath now, and our room," she said slowly, making sure she could be understood. "Would you be so kind ash to show ush the way?"

He tilted his head slightly. "Comment?"

"You just spoke to him in English, Becks." Mark told her. Her glassy eyes widened and she squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to die of embarrassment. "For fuck's sakes..." she muttered. She took a deep breath and repeated herself in laboured French. He nodded and led them up the back, away from the common room.

It took Becky fifteen minutes to get up the single flight of stairs because it wouldn't stop spinning.

***

Mark sighed as he sat in the large, round wooden tub, his arms resting on the side while his hands gripped the rim. The steaming water splashed over the side as he shuddered and groaned loudly, cumming. Spent, he sank back onto the small ledge and breathed heavily. The water stirred and Becky surfaced, exhaling. Her golden hair clung to her wetly and her glorious breasts glistened. She grinned at her student.

"See?" she declared, obviously pleased as she pulled her hair over her shoulders. "Told you I could make you cum before having to surface for air."

"Jesus, you must've been down there over two minutes," he breathed, never ceasing to be stunned by her carnal skills. "How the hell do you hold your breath that long?"

Becky cricked her neck and settled onto Mark's lap, her arms around his neck. She gave him a peck on the nose. "Lots of cardio and physical training."

"Obviously." Mark agreed. "Not that I'm complaining, mind."

"Mmmm, didn't think you would," she purred. "But only half of this equation has been solved, big boy. I haven't cum yet. Since you're friend down there is taking a nap, how good are you at holding your breath?"

"Not that good," he chuckled. "I'm happy to lick your pussy, but you'll need to keep it above water."

She smiled and rolled her eyes before getting off his lap. He moved aside and allowed her to kneel on the little ledge he'd been sitting on, leaning over the rim of the tub and resting her forearms on it. She looked back at him and winked while wiggling her sexy, toned behind him. Her pussylips were dripping and looked inviting.

Mark knelt in the middle of the tub, behind Becky's ass and took hold of it, kissing the wet cheeks. Becky cooed and squirmed under the attention, one of her hands cupping a breast and squeezing it. She could feel Mark's lips and tongue moving slowly inward toward her core. She bit her lip and sighed.

He touched her pussy, kissing it gently and sliding his tongue up and down the slit, which parted easily before him. Her heard her moan and tasted her tang as he pushed inside her while using his thumbs to pull her inner thighs apart so he could get further into his teacher's womanhood. She shivered and pushed back against him, eager for more.

"Mmmm, Mark..." she cooed, her eyes shut as she felt his tongue inside her. "Yes, right there, lover. Ohhhhhh, you really know how to use your tongue..."

He smiled at her compliment and pulled his tongue out to massage her clit with it, rolling around the little bud and making her gasp sharply. He slid a finger inside her, followed by another and she groaned. He could feel her pussy tightening around his digits and began to push them back and forth slowly while he nibbled and sucked her clit.

Becky shuddered again and leaned down, biting at her knuckle while squeezing her breast harder, massaging it vigorously. Mark lashed her clit while fingering her tight slit and then slid a single finger into her ass. Her breath caught in her throat and she gripped the ledge of the tub, her fingers raking along the iron-bound wood.

"Fuck, Mark," she whimpered. "Yes, make me cum. I want to cum in your mouth!"

Mark worked her pussy harder, sliding the fingers back and forth, pushing in deeper each time. His tongue massaged her clit relentlessly or he sucked on it. She was squirming and writhing back against him, groaning unashamedly. He was beyond caring if anyone heard them at this point.

Becky was panting heavily now, her eyes glazing over as she ground her ass against Mark's face, feeling his fingers in her pussy and her ass, wiggling and pushing her closer and closer to orgasm. She would miss his cum inside her, but she would surely get it before long, Mark was developing good stamina under her guidance.

She arched her back and moaned loudly as she began to cum, pleasure blossoming through her from her pussy and out to her fingers and toes. Her body shook while she climaxed, the wet, gooey ecstasy of colours in her mind letting her-

There was a smash, like wood splintering, the creak of worn metal. Her eyes snapped open in confusion, the unreal delight of her orgasm draining away as men in masks and dark clothes surged into the room, at least five of them and more shadows in the hallway. Most were holding knives or small clubs, but she saw the one in front carrying a heavy flintlock pistol. Even in the darkness of the room, lit only by candles around the wall, she could see the wicked scar on his cheek.

"Arrêtez! Reste tranquille et je ne te tuerai pas!" he rasped, pointing his pistol at her while his comrades moved into the room and began searching for something.

"Qui es-tu?" Becky demanded, getting angry not only about the intruders, but the fact that her orgasm was slipping away. She could feel Mark still kneeling behind her, looking on in shock at what was happening.

"Tais-toi, salope!" the man barked, moving toward her and drawing a wicked knife from his belt, his men now ransacking the room. He placed the point of the knife at her throat and Mark felt a cold fear run up his spine. "Do not speak to me in that tone if you-"

He never finished the sentence as Becky grabbed the wrist of the hand holding the knife and twisted, hard. The man with the scar yelped as he lost his grip on the knife and the blonde woman leapt out of the tub, her knee smashing into his face. He staggered backward and then went flying as her foot slammed into his ribcage. He crashed through a table and this got the attention of the thugs he'd brought with him. They all looked in shock at the naked blonde tigress for a moment and then surged in on her, knives and cudgels ready.

"A little help here, hero!" Becky shrilled as she scampered away from the incoming bandits. "This isn't sex, don't make me do all the work!"

"Hey now!" Mark protested, half-rising out of the relative protection of the tub because of her taunt. "It's not like you do all-"

"Goddammit, Mark!" Becky shouted as she ducked the swing of a club and punched her attacker in the balls. "You'd better hope they kill us, because if I survive, I'm going to crack open your skull and suck your brain out with a straw! Help me!"

Mark came to his senses and vaulted over the side of the tub, trying not to think about the fact that he was buck naked and rushing toward his teacher and her assailants. He crashed into the smallest man, bearing him to the ground and winding him. Not sure what else to do, he began punching the bandit, knocking his cloth mask askew so he could not see. The man struggled wildly to get out from underneath his naked foe.

"GLAK!" Mark choked out as another thug grabbed him by the throat from behind and started pulling him off the man he was on top of. He could feel his tongue beginning to bulge out of his mouth and was thinking he must look incredibly foolish, like Jabba the Hutt when Princess Leia strangled him with the chain.

He couldn't die like that. He couldn't. With a limp dick and a swollen tongue? In front of Becky?

He'd taken some karate, although he was no expert. His skin was still wet and he went limp, using sudden deadweight to break his attacker's hold on his throat, although he hissed in pain when he felt the man's ragged nails crease through his skin as he lost his grip.

With a thud! Mark hit the floor and did the only thing he could think of doing- he grappled onto the man and took him down in a rough tumble. He desperately rolled until he was on top and rammed his knee into the man's stomach. He heard the man wheeze but then sparks exploded behind his eyes as something cracked across the back of his head. He didn't fall over but scrambled away in a panic, wishing he could see in the darkness or that the room would stop spinning.

Becky landed in a heap on top of him, knocking him back to the floor. She was still naked and incredibly angry from the sounds of her.

"That's it, buster!" she roared as she surged back to her feet and charged her attacker. Mark dazedly looked over and watched as his teacher sprinted across the room, her foe giving chase. She leapt in the air and to the wall, her foot making contact. Before anyone was ready, she sprang backward, smashing her foot across the man's jaw in a roundhouse kick that they must have heard on the edge of town. The man went down like a sack of flour.

"Alright, who's next?!" she shouted, standing in the middle of the room, naked and scratched up. She grabbed a pewter jug and slammed it backward into the head of a man coming up behind her. He went down.

"I didn't know you did parkour!" Mark called out as he tackled another thug from behind, taking him to the floor.

"I do a lot of things to take out my sexual frustrations!" she snapped back, picking up a bench and throwing it at two assailants to keep them off-balance. "Parkour, jiu-jutsu, archery, Krav-Maga. I was kind of hoping that fucking would allow me to vent a little steam!"

"I can see why!" Mark said as he smashed the man's face into the floor repeatedly. Even in his weirdest dreams, he'd never imagined fighting French bandits while buck naked. He wondered if the Temporal Enforcement Agency would be up his ass about this incident.

"Oh, shut up!" she shrilled, kicking a man between the legs from behind and then suplexing him after he doubled over in pain. The floor splintered with the impact, but Becky rolled to her feet and grabbed his cudgel. "You still owe me an orgasm, mister!"

"Okay, okay!" Mark said hastily. A sallow man confronted him, wearing an eye-mask, who brandished a knobbed club. The bandit grinned at him, clearly intent on bashing his head in. Thinking quickly, Mark stood and looked somber, clasping his fist in his hand and bowing, like they did in his mom's tai chi class.

The bandit looked confused for a moment before Mark bowed again and then made a motion urging the bandit to do the same. Still not sure what was happening but wanting to get on with things, the bandit bowed at the waist clumsily.