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The recent TV special on the American Revolution got me to thinking. This story is based on historical fact, including a famous contemporary ditty:

Sir William he, snug as a flea, Lay all this time a-snoring, Nor dreamed of harm, as he lay warm, In bed with Mrs. Loring.

Joshua Loring and his wife Elizabeth conspired to provide intelligence on British movements in and around Boston 1775.

But the story starts much earlier. In 1768, the then eighteen-year-old Elizabeth Lloyd married British Loyalist and wealthy merchant, Harold Owens, ten years her senior.

“Mother, what will my wedding night be like?”

At the time, that was not a subject that mothers discussed with their daughters. “Elizabeth, Mr. Owens will show you the way. Just obey him and make sure you’re pleasant to him.”

Mr. Harold Owens did indeed show her the way, and she could not wipe the smile from her face.

Although he took the lead and insisted that she open her legs for him every morning and every evening, “Mr. Owens, is it possible that you will allow me to make myself available to your manhood once or twice more a day? Your manhood thrills me far more than I could imagine.”

In their third week of marriage, Mr. Owens, a man of considerable experience suggested, “Mrs. Owens, you’ve demonstrated an unusual affinity for my manhood. I would be pleased if you kissed it; show your husband your love for his manliness.”

It would be an understatement to suggest that Mrs. Owens took to the pleasures her lips brought to her husband’s manhood as if it was the finest beef in all the colonies.

If you’re still not certain of my meaning words like blowjob and cock sucking would be unfamiliar throughout the English-speaking world at the time. Mrs. Owens developed a skill in the application of those unspeakable words. A very high level of skill. A skill even the too numerous to count prostitutes in Boston couldn’t match.

As she wrote in her diary, a diary she kept under lock and key in a hidden drawer, “my husband is like a corn stalk in early September: tall, rigid and with the promise of indescribable sweetness.”

The young, and still newlywed Mrs. Owens, craved her husband’s manhood; craved it in her mouth all the time.

Mr. Owens for his part, was pleased that his wife’s secret garden and mouth, especially her mouth, were always available.

Then it was over. Harold Owens was offered the command of a British sloop which would patrol the American coast for smugglers.

Although her husband was loyal to King George III, Elizabeth was an ardent patriot, however, she kept quiet about her allegiance. Secretly, she kept up a correspondence with the wives of some of the most fierce patriots with names like Adams, Hancock, Otis, Warren, Revere.

Now that she had discovered the joys of married life, Mrs. Elizabeth Owens, was not about to forego the bliss of a man’s, as she called it, stalk, just because her husband was away.

Using her maiden name and calling herself Betsy, the now Betsy Lloyd was seen in the company of numerous men who were definitely not Captain Harold Owens.

The gossip was that Miss Betsy Lloyd’s secret garden was a secret to only those men who preferred the company of other men. That gossip rarely extended to Miss Lloyd’s affinity for using her mouth to please the man she was with.

Her preference was British officers and leading citizens of the

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