Lad of Moss, Part 5


When she returned back from Paradise, she found herself wrapped lovingly in the nest of the redhead’s arms, being comforted softly.


“Are ye alright Sweet Lydia?” Alexia asked in concern.


“Aye, never better. You didn’t not tell me of the wonder between two people Alexia.”


“I dinna ken it dear one. Twas nae like that before. Just wi’ ye,” her voice wondrous.


“Truly?” Lydia asked, thinking it over. “Perhaps it is different with each coupling,”


“I think it twas different because we love one another sweet Lydia. Surely God would only bless those who truly loved in this manner.”


“Did you find pleasure in it when the woman from the camp touched you the same way?” Lydia asked, curious.


“She dinna touch me. I touched her and nothing more.”


“Then you didn’t find Paradise in her arms as I have with you?” she asked, surprised


“Nay, I enjoyed her pleasure in it, but twas all,” the redhead explained.


Lydia turned within the larger woman’s arms, gently urging her onto her back. “Then it is fine time for you to experience it for yourself.” Seeking Alexia’s mouth, she kissed her firmly. Surprised at the taste of her own passion upon her lips, her breathing turned ragged.


Her hand stroked the woman below her, finally settling on one generous breast. Drawn to them for some time, she couldn’t help but moan as her hand kneaded the soft mound, feeling it overflow her small hand. Alexia’s moan was muffled by her own mouth and she thrummed from the sound of it. Lydia felt a large hand covering her own as she squeezed the breast but it didn’t guide her.


Thus encouraged, her fingers lightly took the pebbled nipple between them, pinching it softly. Alexia broke the kiss as her body arched high.


“Ye God and little fishies!” she shouted. Lydia chuckled and gave it another pinch, much enjoying the way her lover behaved.


A bolt of pure desire shot throughout her body each time Lydia performed her sweet torture.


“Ye are trying to kill me!” she complained with a strained laugh. The seamstress felt a giggle bubble up inside of her. “Nay,” kissing the tip of her nose, “But I do want to send you to Paradise,” she smiled. Pushing up a tad, she slid her body downward until her mouth could seek the breast’s sister. Her lips found the peak and chased after as it hid in the soft cushion of Alexia’s breast. Suckling upon it hard, the nipple slipped into her mouth and was greedily kept. She worried the nipple, pushing it roughly against her teeth with her tongue. Alexia’s hands on her shoulders kept the slight woman from being flung from the bed as the redhead reacted, shouting the Lord’s name.


Alexia was on fire. Her hips pressed at Lydia’s leg, trying to ease the ache there. She needed more. Barely able to think, she took the hand at her breast away and guided it down to where she wanted it. Lydia lifted her mouth from her pleasing task and looked down,


“What would you have me do?”


“Touch me there, please!”


“Here?” Lydia asked as her fingers rubbed against slick flesh. The redhead didn’t—couldn’t answer. Her hips flew upwards, seeking relief from the need inside. Her body writhed from the gentle rubbing as she gasped and moaned. Her body sought the Paradise Lydia spoke of but it eluded her.


“I need…Lydia,” remembering what she had once done to Molly, “put your fingers inside of me!”


“But…I shall hurt thee!” she said fearfully.


“Nay, I be not a virgin. Please Lydia!” Alexia reminded her, legs spreading wider.


Nervous fingers traced her opening and tentatively pressed inside a little. “More!”


Holding her breath, Lydia pushed two fingers deeper into her spouse, praying she caused her no harm. Alexia’s hips rose to meet the inward thrust and moaned in ecstasy. Relieved that her action was welcomed, she slowly began gently thrusting them in and out. A steady motion began. Once comfortable with the rhythm and how Alexia moved with it, her lips sought out the other nipple and teased it.


Callused fingers began moving along her back as an encouraging monolog spilt from Alexia’s lips. As time passed Lydia wondered why Alexia didn’t yet find her Paradise. Looking up at her face she saw the redhead was somehow fighting it.


“Alexia, come here love,” she whispered. Shifting her body, she drew the tall woman to her, rolling her onto her side, her flushed face in the crook of her neck. Lydia’s free arm wrapped around her caringly, caressing her nape and hair. Alexia put her arm around loosely about her upper arm. Now settled comfortably, her fingers began their soft thrusting once more. The seamstress brushed soft kisses along Alexia’s shoulder and neck, whispering tender words into her ear.


The powerful woman in her arms panted and whimpered, still fighting the ending to the sweet torment.


“Let it happen love, let it happen. Tis sweet, I promise you.” The woman in her arms trembled  yet couldn’t quite let go. “I have you dearling, I’m with you, now and for always,” her voice promised.


Lydia felt her spouse shatter and tumble over the crest they had both sought. Sobbing, Alexia clung to her tightly, seeking comfort even in the throes of passion. Kissing away her tears, Lydia held her gently and waited out the storm. When the larger woman took a deep breath and stopped shaking, Lydia withdrew her fingers.


“I’ll be right back love.” Standing, she poured some heated water into the basin. Washing her hands then wetting a cloth, she returned to their bed. She gently cleansed the limp woman and slipped the coverlets over her. Rinsing the cloth, she bathed her own self and got into bed. Alexia didn’t move so she settled into her accustomed spot on the large woman’s shoulder. Automatically, an arm wrapped around her and lips pressed a kiss to her brow.


“Alexia, do you-“


“Nay, not right now. I be as limp as that rag ye tossed into the basin,” she murmured.


“Then sleep love, sleep.”



The seamstress was the first to awaken. As the memories of the night before replayed in her mind, she smiled and cuddled closer to the warm woman who pillowed her. Her hands lazily caressed the redhead, just enjoying the freedom to do so. Her palm brushed over the soft breast and played with it, grinning as the nipple puckered at her touch. She pressed it down with her forefinger, watching it spring back up. Her pillow began bouncing.


“What are ye doing silly woman?” she grinned, running her large palm over Lydia’s back and kissing her hair.


“Just playing. It’s fun to watch it rise up like a loaf of bread.”


“So I be yer food now wench?”


“Yes!” the smaller woman growled, pouncing on her spouse’s breast enthusiastically with her mouth. She hungrily sucked and bit on it, the playfulness gone the moment she could hear Alexia’s moan of pleasure as it was dragged out of her. Within seconds, the women were burning frantically out of control. Lydia took the other breast, suckling on it hard, craving every strangled cry her lover made. Her body thrashed under her. Driven with the need to feel her lover fully respond to her, her fingers followed a twitching stomach until she found the dampness she wanted.


Hips lifted, eager for her touch. Hard fingers slid roughly past wet curls and found the place she knew drove Alexia wild. Her fingers took control of the pleading woman, stroking her feverishly. Alexia was panting hard, her body out of control. Just as she was about to fly off into the heavens, the fingers stopped, hovering teasingly. Alexia begged for her to continue.


“Look at me love,” Lydia’s voice demanded gently. Alexia forced open her eyes, seeing the love she had wished for since the very beginning glowing in those amber eyes. “You’re mine.” Her honey voice asked and stated at the same time. Alexia nodded. “And I’m yours,” she whispered as her fingers merely stroked her lightly. It was all it took. The redhead screamed out Lydia’s name in pleasure, her soul scattering into the heavens from the intensity.


Caring arms were holding her when she opened her eyes. It took long minutes before she had the breath to speak.


“Aye, ye are trying to kill me,” she grinned. Lydia laughed and ruffled her damp hair.



They were not quite sure how they did it, but they were both crammed into the small oaken tub. The bathwater threatened to slosh over the rim with every movement. The women giggled as they attempted to bathe one another.


“Have you thought of what we shall do Alexia?” Lydia asked as Alexia soaped her belly.


“Och, not really. I was too worried about what ye wanted to do,” she confessed.


Hearing something hiding the words, she twisted her body to look at the ex-soldier’s face.


“What I wanted to do?” she asked gently. “Like what?”


Alexia’s face turned pale. “I was worried that ye wanted to part ways,” Alexia whispered. Lydia sighed.


“That was my fault Alexia. I never told you how I felt before last night.”


“I could hae asked,” she reminded her, “but I didn’t. Twas too much of a coward I suppose. I dinna want to hear it if ye wanted away from me. The verra idea nearly killed me inside.” Tears rimmed in her eyes.


“Never, dearling,” she vowed. “God brought us together, and until he takes one of us home, we’ll stay together. And thank you, Alexia.”


“For what sweet Lydia?”


“For bringing me home to Him. For your belief that He is a loving God. I grew up thinking I should be afraid of him instead of being one of His beloved children. My faith has become a comfort, not a rod of punishment to fear. You gave me that.”


“Ye are most welcomed sweet Lydia,” giving her a warm hug.


The mood became too solemn. “Brr, the water is turning cold. Help me rinse off.”


Taking a bucket from near the stove, Alexia poured clean water over her spouse. Lydia raised both hands to push away the wet hair from her face. Naughty hands immediately took possession of her breasts.


“Beast! Have you no shame?” she laughed.


“Nay, and ye love me anyway,” she teased, bending down to nibble on an ear. Lydia leaned back, giving her lover better access, then squealed when they suddenly fell backwards. The oaken tub had fallen apart on one side, toppling the bathers and tossing the water across the room.


“We need a new tub,” Lydia grinned.


“Aye, a larger one,” Alexia deadpanned.



“James is asking everyone if they want to stay on,” Lydia told Alexia. “although he isn’t offering nearly what Jonathon had promised you,” she warned.


“What good is working for so little? I had hoped to open my own shop eventually, but Allen will be leaving for England on the first ship. I’m not fully trained yet.”


“Could you find work with a blacksmith in Boston?”


“Probably, if I paid him an apprenticeship fee.” Alexia sighed heavily. “But I hate large towns. They stink and there is no room to move about. I suppose I could just become a farmer.”


“I can’t see you being content as one,” Lydia said honestly. The redhead nodded, glad her spouse didn’t push her in that direction.


“Has there ever been something you wanted to do love?” the seamstress asked, curious. Then watched as her friend blushed. “What? Tell me! It can’t be that bad,” she asked, piqued.


“Well, I always wanted to…well, always wanted to learn how to make church windows.”


“Stained glass? Why does that make you blush Alexia?” The large redhead shrugged uncomfortably.


“Don’t tell me, your loving father.” Lydia knew from her friend’s stories how he would mock every dream she had. The pious woman would smack the man soundly if he were still alive.


She sat down and rested her cheek on Alexia’s shoulder. “I think it is a grand dream. I say we borrow a carriage and go into Boston. There may be a glass worker there. It couldn’t harm anything to speak with him,” she suggested, raising her eyebrows, silently asking what her mate thought.


“I doubt I could grow rich doing it,” Alexia said nervously.


“I don’t care. I’ll sew for extra money. We may not be rich, but we’ll be together.” She said simply, taking away the excuse.



They visited the bank where Jonathon had opened an account for each of them, withdrawing enough to stay for a few days in the town. Never before having so much money, Alexia stared at it.


“This is more money than my father ever earned in his life,” she said dumbfounded. “Do we really need this much?”


“Not really, but I want you to buy some new clothing before you speak with the glassworker,” Lydia explained. Her spouse looked strong and capable, dressed as she had always done. But the seamstress wanted the glass worker to see Alexia as refined as well. She knew well the gentle and dedicated person she was. Lydia knew naught of glassblowing but could imagine it took both traits to work with glass.


Nodding in resignation at the idea of shopping, the redhead held out her arm to her wife.



Alexia stepped out of the dressing chamber, the expression on her face bemused.


“What do ye think Mrs. Browne?” she asked, bowing slightly.


Lydia’s wide grin was infectious. “You look like a young dandy in those clothes. La, look at thee!” Alexia chuckled and looked into the large looking glass.


Before her stood a lad dressed in a costly navy blue coat and breeches. Normally only the wealthier owned clothing of such a color. Blue, red, and pure black were costly because of the dye. Beneath her outer coat was a waist coat of pale cream, embroidered with delicate flowers. Her stockings matched the vest, and upon her feet, newly polished shoes gleamed.


“Quite striking Mr. Browne,” the clothier said, brushing off a piece of lint from her coat.


“Tis time I think, to pay a call upon the glazier—before I lose my nerve.”




The glazier, Phineas  Douglas, stared at the towering boy, wondering why he thought he’d make a good apprentice to such work. His hands were large and rough, no doubt clumsy as well.


“Nay, I currently have no apprentice, but have thee no other work? Thou look like a strapping lad.”


“Mr. Douglas, I came to the Colonies as an indentured servant two years ago. My master was having me learn smithing until he recently died. It was nae my work of choice.” Alexia saw that the man wasn’t willing to take her on and changed her tactics.


“Let me be honest wi’ ye. Since I was a small lad, I have been in love with stained glass. I understand ye do little of it, but I would like to learn from ye. I hae the means to pay my apprenticeship fees. I will work hard and diligently for ye. Once I am a journeyman, I willna compete wi’ ye but move to another place to specialize in colored glass.”


The redheaded lad waited patiently as Phineas tucked his chin low, considering her words. He did want an apprentice. The last two boys proved unfit for such work. Alex Browne was a bit older than most new apprentices, but he was wed, and perhaps more settled.  He made a decision and looked up.


“ I cannot offer more than a small salary and housing for thee and your wife. There are quarters above not in use. I will give thee four months to prove yourself Mr. Browne. Either thee have the talent for such work or thee do not. Only time will tell. In addition, I could use what skills thee have in iron working. Some prefer iron to wood frames for their glass plating. I possess a small forge in the rear of the shop and I could easily acquire an anvil. You will be expected to work from sunup to sundown, with the Sabbath free to do as thee will. The workdays during winter shall be shorter of course. I will not burn costly candles after dark unless necessary.


“If thee prove skilled enough at the end of the four months, I will begin teaching thee the art of stain glass. Is this satisfactory Mr. Browne?”


“Aye! And thank ye Mr. Douglas!” Alexia gushed gratefully.


“Fine. How much time do thee need to make arrangements to arrive?”


“Perhaps five days time Mr. Douglas. We must pack our possessions and rent a wagon before returning to Boston.”


“Hmm, and it will take at least a day to prepare the quarters upstairs. I’m afraid they have been unused for several years.”


“Well, my wife and I could begin cleaning them this afternoon. We need not leave Boston until the morn.” Alexia suggested.


“Tis fine with me. I will open the windows and shutters to air the rooms. Until this afternoon Mr. Browne.”

To Be Continued







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