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When the British fleet sailed out of Boston Haror, it headed for New York City.

The General did not leave his cabin the entire trip; he didn’t leave his cabin because Mrs. Elizabeth Loring accompanied him. “William, rub your face in my cunny again. Tell me again, how much you like my fragrance.”

In New York, the General confiscated the mansion of an American patriot. Like the Boston home, Elizabeth, in their bedroom, could hear strategy sessions among General Howe and his subordinates.

She did not have the resources and contacts here, but she did have a plan to help her American compatriots.

She learned that on Monday, the 8th, the British Army was going to attack Washington’s army.

On Sunday night, the 7th, “William come to bed, my mouth has been watering all day for the joy your stalk brings me.”

“Elizabeth., your lips look precious tonight.”

“They’re hungry, William, hungry for your manhood.”

Twice that night, Elizabeth’s mouth was insatiable for his sweet man juices.

At dawn, the attack was scheduled to commence. It started without the General. “William, please, just one more time. My mouth is still hungry. Satisfy my mouth, my General.”

General Howe was a highly disciplined soldier, but he was also a man. What man could resist what Mrs. Loring was offering?

While William’s soldiers were busy preparing for battle, his mistress, Mrs. Loring’s lips were busy. Without their commander, it is fair to say that the army wasn’t as successful as Betsy Loring’s mouth.

Two months later, as the British army organized for battle in New Jersey, Elizabeth Loring had just finished her monthly. “William, I know you’ve missed my love garden, it’s all yours.”

She spread his legs for him. The taste of her garden was something he could never resist, and he’d been denied it for a week.

He couldn’t resist it that night, and as the army maneuvered into position, Mrs. Loring mounted his face, “I know how much you love it, General. Let me ride your tongue. Ooooooooooh, oooooooooh, William, your tongue, oooooooh, your tongue.”

Even though the British army was highly disciplined, they were lost without their commander.

It was just as Elizabeth Loring planned. She was doing her part for the American cause. She was doing her patriotic duty, but no one would ever know.

Her greatest triumph might have been in Philadelphia.

When General Howe’s army moved to Philadelphia, Betsy Loring went along. Riding in the General’s carriage, she was far enough behind the fighting to not be in danger, but close enough to spend nights in General Howe’s lavish tent.

He’d arrive in the late afternoon after a day in the field. “William, you must be exhausted and in distress. Let Mrs. Loring help you relax.”

She’d get on her knees. “Thank you, William. My mouth has been looking forward to your manhood all day.”

“Betsy, you do have a way of making all my problems disappear.”

Later, “you know what I’m going to want.”

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