Robin's Escape

A conclusion to "Robin's Revenge."

With Robin and Marian on one horse, and Will and Roger each on their own mounts, the group made their way north. The late afternoon autumn light was making longer shadows of the trees along the road, and when they got to a major crossroad, Will pointed to a pole affixed above the door of a fairly rundown roadside alehouse.

"They've a fresh batch made," said Will, making no attempt to hide the thirst the sign aroused. "Robin, could we not stop for a pint? We should be well clear of danger by now." His dark eyes were impulsive, eager.

Robin hesitated. He would have preferred pressing on as nightfall was but an hour or so away, and their safety would be best assured when deeper into the forest's protective garland of trees, but he also could well appreciate his men's need for a break and some liquid enjoyment.

He knew the alehouse well enough, and decided with some reservations that a short stop would do no harm.

He spoke briefly with Will, insisting on a short stay, yet the smiles on the men's faces was sign enough that this was the right decision. Roger, with his big shoulders, was first to dismount, then the tall slender dark-haired Will.

They tied their steeds to the fence alongside the alehouse and made their way into the dark, low ceilinged building.

"Robin!" smiled the proprietor. "Welcome!"

"Thomas, good to see you," responded Robin. "Looks like a fresh batch?" he asked, pointing outside the front door towards the ale pole.

"Yes, and a good one it is. You and your men will like it well enough. All around? And the lady too?" he asked, gesturing at Marian, who despite her slender shape and disheveled clothing, carried herself with a natural and effortless dignity.

"Yes a pint for all. I'll pay straight away in case we need to leave in a hurry," he said, fishing a coin from his purse.

The publican smiled cautiously. He was a large fleshy man, whose jowls shook with every facial expression. "Fair enough. Anything we should know about?" he asked, eyebrows arching and attempting to sound casual.

"No, just back from some business in town," said Robin, making it clear that no more discussion was welcome.

Thomas nodded warily and had one of his alehouse maidens, a handsome enough girl with dark hair and sharp darting eyes, attend to the ale cask. A good deal of her breasts pressed up against her bodice, which struggled to restrain its cargo.

The wooden tankards were filled with foaming ale, and the men eagerly took a deep first swallow.

"Humpf!" went Will. "Something different about this batch? A bit bitter, methinks. Publican, what sort of ale might be this brew?"

"Ah yes, a bit different it is, you're a sharp one. It's got hops in it," said Thomas. "Merchant from Kent was up the other week, says they use them all the time in their ale down there. Some special herb, he says. This is our first try."

Thomas glanced at the barrel behind the counter. "A bit startling to the tongue at first, but you'll like it by the third swallow. Fellow said I'll never go back to the old style once I've done a batch with hops, he says. Keeps longer too, they say. Enjoy!"

Sure enough, the brew was different but cool and fine, most welcome after their afternoon of exertions. The men were chatting with the barmaid at a table at the end of the long first room, while Robin and Marian stood near the doorway, keeping an eye out on the road to the south.

"How did you manage to kidnap Mary?" asked Marian softly, her wide eyes looking up into Robin's angular face. She had dozens of questions for her Robin and they scarcely had had a chance to review the day's tangled events.

"As soon as I knew they had gotten you, I sent the men off to find her. I had a good sense she would be at market, and sure enough we were able to get her separated from the sheriff's escorts. You can thank Robert for that when you see him next, he did some damage to a couple of the sheriff's men."

Robin laughed softly but returned to his story. "I had told them to bring her to the meadow in the chance that all would go well with you, and by God we were fortunate enough. If we hadn't managed to track you and get you to safety, I hoped that we would have found a way to trade you both back, or threaten her enough to make the sheriff amendable."

"What would you have done if the sheriff had had his way?" she asked, leaving out the "with me" part, peering up into his eyes. Her long handsome face with its sharp chin betrayed some concern.

"I am not sure," frowned Robin, "but it would not have been pleasant. But we did not have to go that route after all."

Robin looked down and noticed for the first time how wide the rend was in Marian's bodice. Her left breast had pushed through, pressing her dress' fabric past the slice in the bodice. Her pointed nipple was outlined prominently against the thin fabric, her breast unnaturally squeezed by the bodice's hole.

Marian saw his glance and quickly stuffed her breast back into her bodice. Robin then realised why his men had been giving her extra looks on their escape from the manor house.

"Wont' stay put," she muttered.

"I owe you a new bodice," he smiled ruefully. "That was a nice one too."

"No matter," said Marian, "It is just clothing."

Robin turned for a look at the back of the alehouse. Will and Roger were deep in conversation with the alehouse maiden, who was sitting on a bench between them.

Robin was sure he saw her hand at the top of Roger's thigh, fingers moving rather wantonly, and she was laughing rather overmuch at something he said. Between long thirsty draughts of his ale, Will appeared to be eying the valley between her breasts with some interest.

Robin shook his head and turned back to Marian.

The place had perhaps a half dozen other men in it, enjoying their ale before heading home after a day of work in the fields. Another alehouse wench was assisting Thomas, and Robin wondered how much his band would be remembered as being here if the sheriff's men came by later.

"Let me relieve myself before we head back," said Marian, "it's been a long day."

She left Robin by the doorway to find her way to the privy out back.

Robin stood by the doorway, sipping his brew, when he felt a presence behind him and slightly to his right.

"Dear Robin," purred a fair voice. "What brings you this way?"

It was Ruth, who Robin recognised as the other girl who worked for the publican, rumored to be his niece. Robin hadn't noticed her when they arrived.

She was a short, round girl, with wild handsome dark hair, and Robin had spoken to her only a few times in the past. Her breasts were pushing rather outside the confines of her over-tight bodice, part of one of the dark circles that apparently surrounded each nipple showing atop one side.

"We were on our way north and saw your ale pole. My men were powerful thirsty and we stopped," he said simply.

She was following his gaze out the door. He always had had a hard time reading her. She was apt to speak quite directly, sometimes far too much so.

She had dark eyes, with thick brows that often were furrowed. But when she smiled her chin seemed to dance with pleasure. He looked off in the distance, with some concern over the time.

She stirred next to him. He felt her hand pressing up against his haunches through his hose. She was rubbing with purpose. He shifted a bit to the side, but her hand followed his arse.

"Why don't you spend the night here?" Ruth asked. "We have enough rooms for all of you, and Thomas thinks enough of you to make you a fair price."

"Thank you, but we cannot tarry." Robin tried to stay direct and short.

Robin then started, as Ruth's hand had now reached around under his rump and was fondling his balls. If he moved away suddenly it would bring the attention of the publican. His stalk was tingling and hardening far faster than he wished.

"Ruth," he stammered, "not the best time for this sort of thing...."

"Oh, do stay," murmured Ruth into his ear. "I have been so lonely lately. It has been ages since I last had a poke, at least a week. And I am sure your quiver is full." She looked up into his eyes, but Robin averted his gaze. Her fingers indeed were caressing his balls to lovely effect.

Robin's mouth fell quite open and his thoughts flitted around various disengagement gambits.

Robin detached himself carefully, and looked around wildly. "Why don't you check with my Will?" he suggested, pointing over to his lad at the far corner of the room, still in earnest talk with Roger and the other bar maid.

"He's a good man, but none of us can stay," he insisted.

Just then Marian reemerged. Ruth noted her presence, and sidled her way over to Will at the far end of the alehouse and inserted herself into the conversation.

The other girl gave her a distasteful look and got up to help Thomas at the front of the alehouse. Robin had noticed that always at least one of them was at work near Thomas, leaving the other free to talk or otherwise consort with the alehouse patrons.

Marian had given Robin a piercing look, then followed the alehouse traverse of Ruth with a lingering gaze. Ruth's hips had swayed a bit more than necessary on her path to the two men.

Robin returned to the doorway, Marian joining him. Her eyes drifted to his groin, and Robin reddened, knowing well that his bulge would not be well accounted for.

"A pleasant visit from Ruth?" queried Marian, her voice unnaturally even.

"She had thoughts to keep me here," said Robin, in a low voice. No point in dodging.

"That didn't take long," replied Marian dryly. "Perhaps she will have better luck with our Will. Although I would think all our boys would have had enough pleasure for one day."

"They are still young," laughed Robin. "And yet in fact our little adventures with the sheriff's wife may indeed have been rousing enough for them."

He looked back at Will and Roger, noting with annoyance that they had refilled their tankards, or perhaps had them refilled unasked. Will's arm was around Ruth, they were speaking very closely.

Robin turned back to the doorway, annoyed.

They stared out in silence for some while.

Marian finally asked, "Do you think we will be followed? What time do you think help got to our captives?"

"Likely not until about now," said Robin. "My message would not have arrived much earlier than would allow that. Even then, they would have to hasten, and would have to guess that we were coming this way and not to the east. We should leave quite before nightfall, however."

The alemaster refilled their tankards. "On me," he insisted, "you and your men have done well for all of us."

The foamy liquid was cool and welcome, but Robin was restless.

Robin turned towards the back of the alehouse. Only Roger was sitting now at the bench, staring into his tankard. Robin walked back to speak with him, and between words took a chance to gaze out the narrow back window of the alehouse, which looked out over an overgrown back garden with a small wooden table, just visible between some tree branches.

Will and Ruth were standing near the table, in a full embrace. Both Will's hands were kneading Ruth's arse cheeks through the green fabric of her dress, and she was pushing her insistent chest into him with some enthusiasm. The smile she offered Will could not have been called coy.

Robin kept his glance out the window but continued to talk with Roger.

Before long, Ruth's dress was lifted up, and Robin could see Will groping Ruth's doubtless overheated quim. She had unhitched his hose and pushed them down a bit. Her left hand was on his long stiffened tool, her fingers fondling his pricktip. Will's face had a foolish looking grin on it.

Robin turned to Roger. "Almost done?" he asked, gesturing at Roger's ale mug. "We should be heading out, soon." He nodded to Marian, who made a made a move towards fetching the horses.

Robin turned back to the window. Ruth's back was on the table now, her dress raised up and her thighs spread out, and Will had mounted her. His bare arse was pushing, his hips driving hard into her. Her hands were on his rump, urging him on. Robin wondered how the publican managed to handle his business with these workers. He would need to break up this little sideline.

But the crisis was quickly approaching outside. Will's rump was moving non-stop. Ruth had raised both her legs up to encircle Will's back, who was tailing her with energy.

Suddenly Marian's voice rang out across the alehouse.

"Robin!" she shouted. "Troubles!"

He could hear the fear in her voice and ran to the doorway. A rider was approaching at full speed, one of Robin's men.

"Fly!" he yelled. "A group of three are coming! You've been followed!"

Robin tried to still the churning in his innards. "Roger! Scatter!" using the word that meant they all should flee in different directions. "To the North! Get past Letcham Road before turning! Make speed!"

Roger dashed to his horse and was off.

Robin and Marian mounted one horse and quickly grabbed the reins of the last one, leading it out back.

"Will!" he shouted, as they rushed upon the still coupled pair. "Fly! Scatter! Now, to the west of the forest!" Will uncunted, his prick slithering out, all wet and red. He had just spent and a bit of sperme lingered on his tool. Ruth's face showed alarm, her legs still spread wide. Will stood there stupidly.

"Fly, or the Sheriff will have you!" said Robin, tossing him the reins to the extra horse but not waiting for an answer. He saw the dark thatch of hair on Ruth's cunt before she pushed her dress back down. They never should have stopped at this cursed alehouse. There was yelling and some commotion from inside the building.

Robin urged his horse east, and glanced back down the south road, where three riders were approaching at speed. He doubted that they would divide their group to follow each of them. Roger was gone, but they would spot both Robin and Will.

He sped off, Marian's arms holding him tight. With the two of them on one horse, they would not be able to go quickly.

If he could make it to the Fernwood he might be able to double back to safety. But by the top of the first hill he saw with alarm that two of the riders had gained on them. One was clearly the sheriff. They were close enough for Robin to see the rage on his face.

Robin whirled, and loosened his bow. He took aim and let fly. Both riders had wheeled, but not fast enough. Two arrows were enough to disperse them, one of which struck the flank of the sheriff's horse, which made a piteous noise before turning aside.

Robin sped his mount up the road, Marian's arms tightly around him, and two hills later he had convinced himself that the their two pursuers would not be resuming the chase.

Just in case, he took a path down a stream off the main road, keeping the horses' hooves in the water for several hundred yards to lose their tracks, and then cut back to a northbound path he knew well. Darkness was coming but home was close. He was able to slow his pace a bit.

Marian's arms now gripped his waist a little less tightly, and Robin felt himself relax. Another three miles and they would be able to turn off on a small track, and be home under cover of dark.

One of Marian's hands had dropped from his midsection, and he felt her begin to play her fingers on his loins. The fingers were insistent, softly running along the outside of his shaft until it had made an uncomfortable stiff impression in his hose. Soon her fingertips were under his balls, rummaging about, making his hips squirm in the saddle.

"We're almost home," she whispered, darting a moist tongue into his ear, then nibbling on his earlobe. Robin's groin tingled.

Sure enough, they were then greeted by Montague and Blake, the two shaggy hounds bounding towards them up the leafy trail just after they made their final turn towards the cottage, well hidden in the thickest part of Sherwood forest.

The dogs were beside themselves to see their long absent owners. Robin reached over and ruffled the large dark ears of the bigger of the two dogs. "Monty! You're always the first to greet us!" Marian smiled, glad to be finally home.

They quickly entered the small cottage, tying the horse outside, and Marian got to work preparing dinner. "We can use the rabbit you caught and skinned yesterday," she said. "I've some green onions and herbs to add as well."

Robin was glad that he had filled his waterskin with the last of his alehouse beer before all the commotion began, as there was still a fair amount left.

He poured its contents into two wooden mugs, giving one to Marian while she set to the fire and the evening's meal. He took his mug to the open front door and gazed out into the darkness, sipping thoughtfully.

Thomas the alemaster was right, it was a fine brew, one that got better as one continued to drink it. The chances of being followed this late and after sundown were remote, but Robin was still glad that the dogs would be outside that night, both alerting them to any untoward advances and protecting them well.

He would need to check on Will in the morning. Despite his awkward situation and late start, Robin was sure that Will would have eluded his pursuer, yet still the certainty of his safety would be a comfort. The band would need to lay low for at least a week.

After a while he felt Marian behind him, her hands running lightly over his haunches.

"Quite a day," she murmured. "I didn't expect the men to take such delight with the sheriff's wife." She reached around and began to stroke Robins cock through his hose.

"I didn't either," feeling his cock strain towards Marian's light touch. "I intended the exercise as an affront to the sheriff, which surely was accomplished." Robin chuckled.

"He will remember the sight of his Mary well enough, all stretched out and taken by the men. And her well ploughed cunt! Such a sight. But yes, they had a good time. Have you ever seen so many hard cocks at once?" he queried.

Marian laughed. "No, of course not. For most women, one is good enough. Particularly when attached to her man."

Her fingers were coaxing Robin's cock into an uncomfortably stiff state again. How many times had it become hard today? He had lost count, and in fact his balls were churning. Her fingers were under them now, kneading them with a slow voluptuous pleasure while she pulled on his stalk with her other hand.

"I am not sure I am going to be able to wait until after dinner for you," said Robin, a bit impishly. Her sweet face was smiling, revealing the pleasure she took in making her man hard. He eyed the pot over the fire, simmering, the smells of the stew filling the cottage.

"I am not sure you have to," replied Marian, giving him a long lascivious smile. "Might you be good for twice tonight?"

Robin laughed. "My sperme has been boiling away for most of the day. I cannot imagine why not."

Marian smiled. Robin loved the way her long hair looked when loosened, falling lightly on her narrow shoulders. She closed the cottage door, first urging the dogs out, who knew their protector role began when once outside, and led Robin by the hand to their wooden bed at the far end of the cottage. She bade him sit at the edge, and returned after lighting a taper, setting it by a table set next to the bed.

She leaned over and kissed him, then nibbled his ear. "For myself, I would prefer to save my pleasure til after food, but you men are always so eager, and waiting is such an unendurable hardship."

She knelt in front of Robin and carefully removed his boots and hose. His cock, half hard, popped free and she took it in both hands.

"Speaking of 'your hardship,' " she laughed.