The Runaway

"I did...I did promise you. I can't tell them that though. I will not back out of it either. When the snow stops, I will let you be on your way."

"So you going to let me head North? Not tell the others?" she asked, wondering if he was going to tell the others where to find her and keep his promise and yet try to catch her at the same time.

"I said I would let you go, and I meant it. I won't tell anyone that I saw you or that this happened. The last thing I want to do is tell people that I was knocked upside the head and lost my horse to a bunch of runaways," he joked as his face had a small smile on it.

"Well, I won't be tellin' people bout it either. I figure we both go our own ways when the storm passes." Abigail smiled back.

He lifted himself back up and rested on his elbows. "If we get found before the storm passes, I will make sure you are not sent back. It's only Christian of me to keep my word."

Abigail smiled knowing that he had some of the values she liked. He made no violent act to make sure she was stuck in the cabin and made no comments about keeping her chained or shackled. She felt he was going to keep his word and that she really would have a fighting chance to make it North to freedom.

"Well, I hope you hungry cause I fixed us some stew. I don't know bout the taste and all, but we can't be picker either."

She poured the stew and then opened a few drawers and cabinets to find spoons for them. She put the spoon in the stew and then handed it to him as he sat up. She then looked around rea-lizing that all she had to sit on was the cold floor or the bed. She sat on the bed and closed her legs making a pouch for the bowel with her dress.

He took a sip and then a deep moan of satisfaction. "Mmmm...I needed this. It's not bad at all either...quite good."

"Be fixing somethingreal good if we back at my cabin. Some cornbread, potatoes...rice. All the fixings."

"Sounds good. All I get is what I can make real quick when I camp."

She took a sip and felt the warm stew heat her body up. It was like her cold spell in her body was melting with each spoon full. She looked up to see him eating twice as fast, enjoying the meal she made.

"I don't know you name by the way. I am Morgan."

"Well, nice to meet you Mista Morgan sir. I am Abigail."

"You know we weren't looking for you. We were hired by Mister Douglas to bring back his hands that ran off the day before. You just happened to be with them. I figure you might have others looking for you now."

She knew he was right and that Massa Waite would not let this go by any means. He would bring Hell's wrath down on the slaves that ran away too. He was known for selling family members off to as punishment. The loss of her father was in response to something her uncle did too.

"You be lettin them take me if they find us here?" she asked, wondering if the deal extended to other slave catchers.

"A deal is a deal. Though I might be having to do some negotiating though."

She wondered what that meant but did not want to push her luck either. He seemed to be a nice fellow and wondered how long it would last. She also did not want to say anything about the other runaways or the bounty hunters that would certainly be after them.

She finished the stew and took his empty bowl too. She went outside to get some snow and clean them out as the same bowls were to be used again. Her mind went to planning out what to eat tomorrow and how she was going to cook or if she should cook again. Running was an option too as she knew he was well enough to survive.

Once outside she could still see the snow falling slowly. It was not as bad as it was, but it was more than a foot deep

and the wind was still howling. The cold air blasted her face bringing her early departure idea to a halt.

She was back inside and the cold was making her desire the warm bed now. The damp dress she was wearing was now freezing her as the outside wind was making her shiver. Her teeth were chattering hard as the warm bed was the only thing she could use.

"Mista Morgan...I needs to get warm and in tha bed," she stated as her eyes were now pointed towards an open spot in the bed and her face was asking him to both be a gentleman and accept that they both needed to use the bed.

Morgan slid over giving her more space on the bed and then turned his head as not to look. "I will take the floor if you want."

Abigail dropped her dress near the stove to dry it as her naked body was now exposed to the cold cabin air but not to his eyes. All he needed to do was turn his head and he would see all her. Her sex and breasts were never exposed to any man before and all Morgan had to do was make an effort and he would see all of her dark flesh.

She slipped into the bed pulling the blanket over her and then turning to the side away from him as to not entice him. "Don't be silly, both of us need to be warm. Just think we need to keeps to our sides is all."

Morgan moved his back so it was now facing her back as he moved over a little more so none of their nude bodies were touching. "Okay...let me know if you want me to move over more."

"That's mighty gentlemanly of you, but I think I be good," she answered as she knew this awk-ward situation was the best it was going to get.

With the silence between them, the cold wind hissed through the small holes in the cabin. Mor-gan shifted his body some but seemed to fall asleep quickly. The excitement from the day wore on Abigail just as much and she gave in to the her need for rest. The peaceful truce between Morgan and her felt true and the fear was gone from her system.

The rest was needed but her bladder demanded attention. Abigail woke to her body's need and looked over to see Morgan sound asleep. She got up from the bed to see the stove was needing wood too. She put on her dress to handle her needs outside before she could add wood to the fire.

The wind was just as bad as before but the temperature from the night had dropped. It was the coldest she had ever felt and the simple dress she had did nothing to stop the chill her body was getting. It was like every inch of her body felt the stingy cold air to the point it was almost burn-ing.

She hurried back inside to add wood to the fire, barely making out what was in front of her as the night sky had blocked the light from the moon. The soft amber glow from the stove was just enough for her to see the wood stacked right next to it.

The fire was going to burn but the warmth of the bed called her like a thirst that needed to be handled quickly. She felt for the bed and reached for the blanket. She threw herself in bed and felt it. She was facing Morgan as she felt something hit right between her legs. It was soft and yet hard and she immediacy knew what it was.

Morgan made no movement to grab her but she knew she needed to turn over. Just as she did, she felt his member pushing against her thighs. It did not penetrate anything but she felt the crown of his manhood trying to push through her thighs as if it was lost.

"Mista Morgan...Mista Morgan. You awake?" she called out softly not to sound too alarmed but also wanting to wake him up.

"Arrrrggg," he grunted softly as if he was about to wake up but still sleeping.

"Mista Morgan...you needs to wake up," she sounded off with more volume as to finally wake him.

"Whaaat...Ohhhh...What," he answered back in a grumbling sound.

"Your thing. You needs to put your thing away. Turn over so your thing is not trying to get in me," Abigail responded still sounding calm but also a little louder as to wake him fully.

"Ohhhh...didn't mean for that to happen. I am sorry," Morgan answered as he turned over.

As Morgan turned his body she felt his thing move from her thighs clearly letting her feel his erection before he finally turned to the other side pointing it away from her. She then did the same so they were back to not facing each other.

"It's fine, didn't think you would be meaning to do that. Don't think you were that type of man."

Abigail felt he was an honest, good-natured man, but also knew that marriage vows meant noth-ing to the white men she had come across on the plantation. The overseer was married and was a good God-fearing Christian man, but also crept into the cabins of the female house hands. Although her cabin was never frequented, it was only because George was with her during that time, and he was forced upon her. When George was sold off, she knew her cabin could be picked at any night.

"Not right is all. Didn't mean any harm," he answered back.

"Guess your Misses has a good man then," she answered, feeling that he was one of the good men that she heard about. The men that hold values in high regard and protect women.

"Not married. It's just that it's not right is all."

His answer made her question what was not right. Was it not right that she was a slave or that she did not consent? She knew she could let it go and go back to sleep, but since she was up, and he was too, why not get a definitive answer from him.

"Is it because you don't like niggers or that you don't think a man should have his way on a woman?"

"A man should never force a woman. I think it's an affront to God and all that is holy for a man to take that from a woman. White woman or not, no man should do that."

His answered stunned her that she turned over to face him. She never heard a man say some-thing and feeling deep in her should that he meant it. "Don't think I ever heard a white man say something like that and mean it. Massa be married and I knew he be touching the house niggers. Four hands in the field be light skinned and don't know who their pappysare. You be the only one I thinks ever mean what he says."

"I don't own any slaves, but I can tell you if I did, they would not have to fear me trying to have my way with them. It's not right."

His answer once again intrigued her. She did not know why a man would refuse to take a wom-an who could not fight back and had to accept it. How could a man so easily have his way with her right now not do it?

She knew she was small compared to her sister and that her hips were not wide like the other hands. Her breasts were not large as they were only a handful. She thought she had a nice enough face though. The field hands did not say too much about her looks because she knew she had a small body with no hips to attract men wanting children or breasts to fill a dress out. Morgan seemed to be another man who deemed her unfit for physical attraction.

They were both naked and yet they slept half the night without him even touching her. How is it the man who would bring her back to bondage would be the most upstanding white man she ever met? She doubted him now as nobody could be so righteous. She heard of the slave catchers having their way with all of the female slaves they caught too.

"What if she be wantin' it? What if she be okay wit it?" she asked, thinking he would be like any man and would give in even though he would be having relations with a slave as it was both easy and convenient.

"Never thought about it to be honest. I just assume they would not be interested in a white man."

"So, you don't like Negros?" she asked, finally thinking she had the real reason. Maybe it was not just her but all women of color.

"I wouldn't say that. I mean, God says beauty comes in all people."

"I think you be given me some bible answer there, but that's alright. I know some white folks don't find us nigger folk beautiful."

"I wouldn't go that far. I mean you are quite attractive. Doubt people think any different either."

"Ohhh, so you think I am beautiful?" Abigail could not help but smile when she responded. She knew he was not the type to lie about things and she felt he was truly telling her she was pretty.

"Best we get some sleep," Morgan commented quickly as all she could think about was that he admitted that she was pretty.

Abigail figured she hit a nerve and that he didn't want to admit that he might have a thought about being with a slave. That he might have looked too long or had some thought about doing what other white men do when they need physical release.

"Well...thank you for telling me I beautiful and all. If I was a hand that be needing to give it up to a white man for his needs, I would be hoping it would be with you then."

"Not right that it happens though. I would never."

"I know, but I would be okay wit giving it up. Seeing you find me pretty and all."

"You would want a white man to take it?"

"If it were you... I would, don't be wantin' man who thinks I am not beautiful and all," she blurted out not thinking about what she said clearly.

Abigail knew what she just admitted and wished she could take it back. Then again she felt wanted and pretty, the burning desire to be attractive to a man now resonated in her. The words were out of her mouth and there was no taking them back. She never really thought of a white man in a physical way, but she also knew that Morgan was not a man she ever encountered before, and her scope of men extended to only the master and the overseer.

She felt the bed move as Morgan turned to his side. She did the same and the dim light lit some of his face. "I would never take what was not offered to me, but if it were offered...I would."

"Be thinking you wants to be with me." She smiled as she could not help but smile at him.

When Morgan did not respond quick enough, she felt she needed to urge him on. The idea of a white man doing it to her repulsed her, but Morgan did not feel like a person that would be lumped together with the men she thought were white. He was white and a slave catcher putting people back into slavery, but he was not the man who would do harm to another person.

"If you wants to you can," she offered as her heart was pounding with the knowledge that she was offering her sex to a white man willingly and without something in return. The idea of it being nothing more than a man doing his thing in her came to her as the notion of a man having needs too. She knew men needed to do it and she figured she might help, but then also let her mind race with giving in to a man that really thought she was attractive.

Morgan stirred again on the bed. She felt his body move towards her and then position himself between her legs. She opened her legs as he tried to get into position knowing that it was about to happen. She could barely make out details of his face as the dim light of the cabin was not enough to see but a few inches.

Morgan said nothing and yet she felt his erect member close to her sex. Her hands pushed down on the bed thinking it was going to be painful and that he might be into hitting. She then felt his hand guide his tip to her love opening and then it happened. She felt her love folds open and then the startling sensation of a man entering her.

Her mind flashed with what was happening but it was too late. The thoughts of right and wrong seemed blurred when his manhood slipped into her. Now it all just seemed right as she knew it was not forced but offered. It had been a year since she last felt a man inside of her and now the sensation was returning, but it was different as she felt she could tell him to stop and he would.

She reached up to feel his arms and the muscles on it as his male rod was plunged inside of her with a steady pace. Why did it feel so right with him? Why did she not feel bad that he was trying to bring her back to servitude just a day ago and now was giving him her most intimate prize. Her mind then thought it was just natural for a man do this to a woman.

Abigail then felt him retreat only to slide slowly back in her like he was trying to let her adjust. He was being gentle and she felt her sex respond with wetness for him as he pushed back in. She quickly recalled his soft member and the size of it when she removed his clothes, but as he eased himself in and out of her she knew he was not soft or that size anymore.

She felt him continually sliding in cautiously in and out of her love hole as if not to hurt her while she let her body respond to it with more wet lubrication for him. His hips began going faster but still not pounding her as the urge to release pleasure gripped her body.

Moving her hands to his chest and letting her fingers feel his chest added to her mind, telling her that a man was in inside of her. His male organ was hard and yet soft enough to not hurt her as it moved in and out of her. The feeling of intimate pleasure washed over her as did the taboo feeling that she should not be with a white man.

Although she could not make out any details of his face, the notion that it was a white sex organ plunging in out of her most intimate area could not leave her brain. He was loving her as if she was his wife and yet she knew he was a man who could bring her back to the pain and misery of slavery.

Morgan was not slowing down and yet not going faster. Abigail felt she could not hold back and clenched her eyes as the spasm in her sex happened. It was stronger than she realized as she felt her love canal try to close and push his male member out of her body. Again and again it happened and all she could do was let it happen as it felt so wonderful.

As he continued, she moved her hands to his hips and then held him. Morgan then stopped his love making motions. "Am I hurting you?"

The idea that a man would stop felt like it was more than just nature taking its course or boredom as they were stuck in a cabin. She felt a desire for him to continue now as it was the two of them that were doing it and not him just having his way like all the other times before that she had sexual relations.

"Noooo...you're not hurting me. Feels good, just needed a break is all," she said with a soft tone and smiling as she wondered if he could sense that she was really enjoying it more than a woman should.

Morgan then continued plunging his member in and out of her love hole in a slower motion but still going as deep as he could. She could feel her sex muscles trying in vain to push him out again as all she could do was enjoy it.

His breathing became heavy as his waist became like a machine, pushing his manhood far into her. Everything negative faded, yesterday blurred into a distant memory as her only desire was to keep him doing what he was doing. Her hand slid down his sides to his hips, holding onto him as to confirm that she was okay with what he was doing to her.

Abigail felt it again, her sex closing tight as to grip his male shaft as if it wanted to hold onto it. Her entrance to her womb was slick as she felt it was futile and yet her body was involuntarily trying anyway. It felt like it was pulsing inside of her too as she figured he must be close.

"Ohhhhhhh...mmmm," she moaned, not wanting to sound dirty but no longer able to hold back either. The sensation of his male member was too much to hold out on.

Morgan grunted and she could not see if he was smiling or grimacing with his face. A sudden burst of warmth flooded into her as she opened her eyes wide the moment it happened. He was finishing inside of her and her sex responded by trying to hold on to it as her body shook in total bliss from it all.

She had no idea that a man finishing inside of her could feel so good this time. She did remem-ber the last time, but not feeling so good when it was over with. It was like it was lingering and her sex still had the tingles going through it.

"Ohhh...Oh, God," Morgan moaned slightly as he retreated from her love canal making her feel the loss of his member from her body.

Abigail breathed hard still feeling her sex tunnel spasming with the warmth he just sprayed inside of her. "Ohh...I guess you do have a thing for slave folk after what you be doing to me."