Rebel 1777
Copyright© 2014 by realoldbill
Chapter 9: Recovery
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 9: Recovery - A young soldier in Washington's army recalls his adventures.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Historical Violence
Three days later I awoke in Susan's bed with a full-fledged erection. I would not include this fact except that I had suspected I would never have another. I just lay on my back and enjoyed the feel of it poking up and rubbing at her thin quilt. My lieutenant had given me a pass for a week's leave after I told him what had happened to Susan and me and after one of those doctors over in camp looked at my bruises. He thought the stocking on my injured member was funny until he pulled it off and looked at my damaged rod. He gave me some stuff that smelled even worse that the ointment Mrs. Snyder had made.
On the 27th, I had barely been able to stand up and spent most of the day rolled in my blanket feeling sorry for myself and smelling like mint and witch hazel. I though I'd faint when I took a blood-tinged piss. The next day, showing my pass three times, I went back across the river with a pack full of rations and knocked on Susan's flapping door. She welcomed me with a kiss, rubbed the doctor's goo on both my skin and hers and then curled up with me in her bed. I think we slept for twenty hours and woke sore and hungry on the morning of the 30th. She greased me, and I greased her fading stripes, which I enjoyed more than I told her. At her suggestion, I held snow to my privates off and on, which I did not enjoy at all since it reminded me of how they got that battered and bruised.
Now it was New Year's Day, 1777, and I had a good, sore, ugly, solid erection and the urge to use it. I blew Susan's hair out of her face, and she slowly awoke beside me. She slept in her shift; I was wearing just my shirt as usual. It was almost as cold as outdoors in her little cabin despite the carefully banked fire, but I threw back the quilt to her knees and said, "Look." Despite blotchy stripes, swollen veins, a blood blister and a discolored head, I was proud of it.
"Well," Susan said as I flipped the quilt back up cover us, "my goodness." I caressed her soft back, feeling the raised lines of her scourging. She shivered. I wondered about her other injuries, the internal ones. Her hand slid down my bruised stomach. "Seems a lot smaller," she said with a chuckle in the voice. "Think we ought to give the poor little thing a try?"
I pulled her leg over mine and slid into her very slowly, feeling her tongue licking my chest, the hurried pace of her breathing, the ripples in her belly, things opening and unfolding within her like secret doors.
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