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“William, tell me, please tell me. A girl can’t hear it enough.”

“Mrs. Loring, there’s nothing like the taste of your garden. Like you thought of my manhood all day, I could not rid my mind of the taste of your garden. When we’re settled in Philadelphia, I want to spend hours and hours with my face in your delicious garden.”

General Howe wasn’t lying. Once his staff had procured one of the finest homes in Philadelphia as his headquarters, he ordered his aides, his servants, everyone out.

“Oh William, thank you.” Betsy was naked and spread her legs for him. “I know this is what you want. My garden is all yours William. Do anything you want with it.”

“You know what I want, darling.”

They didn’t get much sleep. The General’s tongue was busy, busy, busy. Mrs. Loring squealed with delight. Over the next few hours, she squealed with delight numerous times. “William, oh William.”

Even the sentries on the street, guarding the General’s front door heard her squeals; looked at each other and tried not to laugh.

Philadelphia was different from Boston and New York. Here, British officers, including General Howe publicly flaunted their mistresses. There was no doubt that Elizabeth Loring was the most beautiful and she was all General Howe’s.

It was winter and the army in Philadelphia was in their winter quarters as were the Americans.

There were balls and galas. The women dressed in their finery proudly clung to their officers, and when they weren’t they gossiped among themselves.

Mrs. Loring made it a point to get close to the wives and mistresses of British officers hoping that she’d hear something which she might pass along to the Americans.

One unmarried young woman who Betsy befriended was Margaret Shippen, the daughter of a wealthy merchant who was loyal to the King. Peggy, as she was called, like her father supported King George III.

Mrs. Loring, five years older, became 19-year-old Peggy’s confidante. The younger woman always seemed to be unhappy. “What’s the problem, Peggy? What makes you so sad?”

“Mrs. Loring, I have a paramour who I love deeply but he is beyond my reach.”

“Is he in London?”

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Of course, my lips are sealed.” She smiled. Yes, they were sealed except for the General’s manhood.

“My love is an American; a high-ranking American officer. It is on the rarest of occasions I find myself in his arms.”

“Perhaps, I can act as a go-between and arrange a private residence where a lady such as yourself could entertain a gentleman in complete secrecy?”

“Mrs. Loring, that’s very thoughtful, and I’d be forever grateful, but I already have a friend who has offered to help.”

“Peggy, Mrs. Loring seems so formal. Betsy or Elizabeth will do. Do I know your friend?”

“See that handsome major over there dancing with Mrs. Canfield?”

“He is handsome. I’d like to meet him.”

“His name is Major John Andre, and if the rumors are true, he has a thing for the ladies; all the ladies.”

“Oh?”

“If I wasn’t otherwise spoken for, I’d make my womanly charms available to him.”

“If he’s all you say, when General Howe is making his battle preparations aboard the Endeavor, I wouldn’t mind offering whatever I have to him.”

“Mrs. Loring . . .”

“Betsy.”

“Yes, Betsy, that’s so bold of you. I think the Major would find you irresistible.”

Betsy was thrilled to meet the Major. Major Andre could not keep his eyes off Mrs. Loring, and although it was common knowledge that she was General Howe’s paramour, he succumbed to her charms.

He succumbed because as I said, Mrs. Elizabeth Loring was perhaps the most beautiful woman in all of the colonies.

On more than one occasion that winter, Mrs. Loring arranged for a very private meeting with the Major.

“Major, oh Major, my secret garden has never felt like this. Your manhood, your magnificent manhood is welcome to my secret garden anytime you’d like it.”

“And your pretty mouth?”

“Yes, Major, just not right now. Keep filling my garden. Give me more, give me more.”

Later that afternoon, Major Andre did indeed fill Betsy Loring’s mouth.”

Since Adam and Eve, lovers have shared secrets. Often inadvertently. A slip of the tongue in a moment of passion. Today, it is sometimes called pillow talk.

That’s how it was with the Major when Mrs. Loring slid her lips up and down the Major’s shaft; something, as you know, she had considerable expertise doing.

She discovered that Peggy Shippen’s American lover was none other than the American General Benedict Arnold.

Major Andre assumed that like Peggy Shippen, Mrs. Elizabeth Loring was a loyal subject of His Highness King George III. “Elizabeth, the war is almost at end. Soon, we’ll have the American fortress at West Point in our hands.”

She knew what he meant. West Point controlled access to the Hudson River. Capturing it would separate the New England colonies from the rest, and they could be made to pay for their disloyalty.

Mrs. Loring knew one more thing: General Benedict Arnold commanded the American forces at West Point.

As soon as she could leave the Major’s bed without suspicion, she hurried to her patriotic contact, an innocent appearing shop keeper in Philadelphia. She was embarrassed as she whispered in his ear what she’d discovered. She was embarrassed because she still had the taste of Major Andre’s manly juices on her breath.

Presumably, you know the rest of that story.

What you may not know, is that after the war most Americans considered Mrs. Loring a traitor and she fled to England where her lips found solace with numerous men.

Ironically, she never saw her husband again. If you recall, General Howe ordered him to Montreal so he could have Betsy all to himself. Joshua Loring found a young, beautiful French woman who’s mouth and his manhood became the best of friends.

THE END

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