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." she said, turning, pointing into the wagon and grinning at me. "Somebody's coming," she said.A Continental cavalryman reined in beside us, saluted casually, asked the lady's name and then handed her a sealed letter."Them two bodies back yonder yours?" he asked.I nodded. He smiled, turned his horse about and left, heading back the way he had come."It's from my husband," the girl said, "I know his name, his hand." She pointed to the bottom of the letter. "Read it." She handed the paper to me.I. They continually asked me how my brother and I got on so well. I normally shrugged my shoulders in reply. Truthfully, I didn't know. There just didn't seem to be any reason to fight. Besides, I kind of liked having him around. I enjoyed his company and he appeared to enjoy mine.It was a sunny Saturday in June. Our parents were out for the day shopping in the city thirty odd miles away. I was in my usual summer attire of sundress and pants. I didn't wear a bra as I hated how the straps dug into. He sat down hard and threw me over his knees like alifeless puppet, my head hanging inches off the ground.I slowly turned my head and through my blurred vision I could see half adozen pairs of legs in high heels and stockings. I twisted my headfurther and saw the heavily made-up eyes of Steve's stable of transvestiteprostitutes watching me through the bars. Some of the whores had theircustomers with them; they had drifted along with the prostitutes when theyhad been ordered from their. Still silent, she watched me, her eyelids low with lust as her luscious breasts pressed beneath my rock-hard shaft, massaging it with their softness as her lips left streaks of strawberry down the length. Spittle ran from the thick red borders of her lips as she pressed her tongue against the tip of my cock. Her lips were pursed, suckling messily at my need, her saliva running down her own breasts now as she inhaled me. Her slim fingers cupped my scrotum in a cool grip, the unrelenting rhythm.
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