Anthea s baby 1
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The Last To Leave- Part II free porn video
author's note: this is the second part of a long series I am planning. The next bit will be out on New Year's.
Private Edward Neumann woke up with an acute pain in his head.
He didn’t remember anything after landing on the shore. Just flashes of gunfire, and him being captured by the Ottomans. He looked at his surroundings while he tried to recollect his memory. He was sitting in a crude cot, a pile of cloth his pillow. The cell contained about 4 other beds, and a metal grated door. The walls were brick, and the cell was cramped and damp. The other men were asleep, snoring and muttering. The only light was from a few grates in the cieling. He was about to shout for help when he heard footsteps in the hallway. Edward decided to keep quiet, fearing punishment for his attempts at escape. As the guard entered the corridor, carrying a lamp, Edward realized how desperate his situation was. The man only had a few keys with him, and they were around his neck, reflecting some of the yellow light from his lamp. He carried a pistol on his side and a wooden stick. He turned back to the entrance, and shouted up the stairs. A shadow began to descend, the footsteps more quiet and graceful. Edward couldn’t believe what he saw.
A young woman entered the corridor, greeted the guard and proceeded towards his cell. She wore a long, forest green dress that went to her ankles, hemmed with a simple white. She also had a small brown coat on. This dress was customary for Turks, but she didn’t seem Turkish. She had an air of dignity and calm, with chocolate brown hair flowing to her breasts in curls. She had piercing grey eyes, and had a look of mischief to them. Her presence captivated Edward, so engrossed in her body his pain went away. She stopped at Edwards cell, and opened it. She stretched out a petite hand, beckoning for him to follow her.
Happy to leave the stench of the prison and to follow this beauty, Edward paced down the hall, stumbling on a loose brick in the floor. She slightly smiled and proceeded up the stairs, Edward trailing behind her like a dog on a leash.
They soon approached the ground floor presumably, where he was brought into a small room with a desk, a guard outside, and a few chairs. Edward stretched his body, which was aching from the cramped conditions a floor below. The woman sat at the desk, and brought out some sheets of paper. She tapped them together on the desk, and produced a pen from a drawer.
“What is your name, sir?” she asked, with a slight accent coming through. Where it was from, Edward wasn’t sure, but it gave her the voice of a wealthy woman. Whoever this lass is, she’s obviously important. She speaks English in the middle of Turkey!. Coughing, Edward replied to her question. Biting her lip, she wrote down his reply.
“And from which regiment?” she slyly questioned, her sultry eyes knowingly looking at him. Edward couldn’t give such information away; it would be treason. He stuttered for an answer, trying to find a way to deceive his interrogator. “British 29th, 85th brigade” he sputtered, remembering another division that was assigned on the “expedition” he had suffered through. That time seemed far away from now, rather than a few days ago. Edward shifted his seating in the chair as the woman wrote down what he had said.
The process went on for about an hour more, the woman asking more intrusive questions on the attack, and Edward spinning a web of lies, on everything from what ship he was on to the battle plans of the assault.
“I’m just a private, alright lass?!” he finally shouted, exhausted from his complicated deception. “I don’t remember much from that fuckin night, other than the hell I saw! And I doubt any of the boys you shot down on the cliffs would’ve known either! So just send me back to my cell and take me up again for some mongrel in a turban to cut my head off!” He rose from his chair, leaning over the desk, his being pulsing with fury. “I don’t know the details, and I doubt any of the mates down there know either” He emphasized, pointing at the floor to the cells, “The men you’re after are in their manors in England, not some privates you picked up from the beaches!”. He sat down in his chair, while the woman looked back at him in shock, her open mouth eventually reforming into her usual sly appearance. She stood up, walking around the desk with a slight emphasis on her steps, and brushed a lock of hair aside.
“I, Private Neumann, am not a ‘lass’. And nor do I plan on harming a man like you… so full of rage. So full of anger…” she bit her lip. “And I don’t want to see you go to be killed either.” she stood in front of him, one of her soft hands on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. She looked up at the private, then slightly pushed him aside. “Our meeting here is done”
She rang a small buzzer on her desk, and a guard brought Edward back to the cells. Before the door closed, Edward saw her red lips blow him a kiss. He stood in awe for a second, before being shoved back to the stairs by the guard. He couldn’t get that woman out of his head, even while he heard the click of the cell door locking him in. He had to see her again. I have to. He asked his other cellmates if they had seen this woman at all.
“I have” said one man, his whispers almost incomprehensible due to his thick Irish accent. “Name’s Boy Williams.”
“Edward Neumann” he replied. “Back to the girl, she’s a real beauty, aint she?” he asked. The other cellmates had woken up, and were half-listening to their discussion.
“Absolutely stellar” Boy replied, “Long hair, thin waist, and a perfect set of tits. I don’t know any man in Ireland who wouldn’t have glad eyes for her.” He paused, obviously remembering her, “and she even speaks English like one of the high lords”.
“Yeah” Edward grumbled, “the same high lords that got us rotting in this cell. Sitting with their nice ties and second homes while we fight the battles they plan.”
An older man cleared his throat, and raised his weak body up so he could talk to Edward and Boy. “The girl?” he asked, “her name’s Daniela Ilieva. And from what I seem to know from one of the guards, she’s an important lass…”
Daniela Ilieva went to her quarters that night dreaming of the private. He was a stubborn man, one that had right reason to hate his captors, but she saw he wanted her. She had been working as a translator long enough to recognize some cues. And men, she noted, were never good at hiding their secrets.
Daniela was born in Bulgaria in 1891, leaving for the city of Istanbul to flee from the Balkan Wars. Her father was the illegitimate son of a British soldier in the Crimean war, while her mother was a Bulgar as far back as they could trace. She had learned English from her grandfather, and spoke near fluently due to his death. She lived rather comfortably in Istanbul, learning Turkish quickly enough to get a position in the Ottoman government. With swarms of Bulgars and other Balkan peoples heading to Istanbul for safety, it was part of Daniela’s job to record these dispossessed families. With the ongoing battle in Gallipoli, she was reassigned to interrogate and keep track of all prisoners the Ottomans captured. Most of these men were like Edward; smelly, angry, and dishonest, but easy to crack open. Yet Edward had a strange aura of attraction, she felt like he was a man to marry. And he was, in her mind, a rather handsome man. But something about him opened up a desire in her, a gnawing hunger for love and passion. Daniela had other partners before, but she had been very careful. The last thing she wanted during her tumultuous job was to reduced to a housewife, caring for her c***d. But she didn’t care about having a c***d with Edward. He held a mix of youthful boyhood and responsible masculinity she hadn’t seen for a long time. She undressed from her uniform, and changed into a loose yet comfortable nightgown. She couldn’t sleep, and bit by bit her hands crept down to her crotch, and she felt the warmth of her fingers caressing her cunt. She murmured happily as she spread her lips open, fantasizing of Edward entering the room and taking her. She would give him freedom, and he would give her happiness.
Scenes of lust played in her mind as she continued to tease herself. She curled her toes to allow herself to going, eventually slipping 3 fingers in.
She sat upright, and began rocking her body on the bed, feeling the fingers explore her pink lips. Daniela then threw off her nightgown, and circled her nipple with her other hand. She was getting closer, her body now fucking her hand in rhythm. She gave a gasp as she felt the beginnings of an orgasm, and worked her fingers furiously, thinking of Edward, filling her with himself. His calloused hands kneading her soft breasts, his chest on hers, and the taste of his lips. She mouthed words of enjoyment for what felt like hours before the came, her body rocked by the three blasts of cum dripping from her. And if this is what she was with only thoughts of him,she wondered, what will I be like when I'm with him...
Private Edward Neumann woke up with an acute pain in his head.
He didn’t remember anything after landing on the shore. Just flashes of gunfire, and him being captured by the Ottomans. He looked at his surroundings while he tried to recollect his memory. He was sitting in a crude cot, a pile of cloth his pillow. The cell contained about 4 other beds, and a metal grated door. The walls were brick, and the cell was cramped and damp. The other men were asleep, snoring and muttering. The only light was from a few grates in the cieling. He was about to shout for help when he heard footsteps in the hallway. Edward decided to keep quiet, fearing punishment for his attempts at escape. As the guard entered the corridor, carrying a lamp, Edward realized how desperate his situation was. The man only had a few keys with him, and they were around his neck, reflecting some of the yellow light from his lamp. He carried a pistol on his side and a wooden stick. He turned back to the entrance, and shouted up the stairs. A shadow began to descend, the footsteps more quiet and graceful. Edward couldn’t believe what he saw.
A young woman entered the corridor, greeted the guard and proceeded towards his cell. She wore a long, forest green dress that went to her ankles, hemmed with a simple white. She also had a small brown coat on. This dress was customary for Turks, but she didn’t seem Turkish. She had an air of dignity and calm, with chocolate brown hair flowing to her breasts in curls. She had piercing grey eyes, and had a look of mischief to them. Her presence captivated Edward, so engrossed in her body his pain went away. She stopped at Edwards cell, and opened it. She stretched out a petite hand, beckoning for him to follow her.
Happy to leave the stench of the prison and to follow this beauty, Edward paced down the hall, stumbling on a loose brick in the floor. She slightly smiled and proceeded up the stairs, Edward trailing behind her like a dog on a leash.
They soon approached the ground floor presumably, where he was brought into a small room with a desk, a guard outside, and a few chairs. Edward stretched his body, which was aching from the cramped conditions a floor below. The woman sat at the desk, and brought out some sheets of paper. She tapped them together on the desk, and produced a pen from a drawer.
“What is your name, sir?” she asked, with a slight accent coming through. Where it was from, Edward wasn’t sure, but it gave her the voice of a wealthy woman. Whoever this lass is, she’s obviously important. She speaks English in the middle of Turkey!. Coughing, Edward replied to her question. Biting her lip, she wrote down his reply.
“And from which regiment?” she slyly questioned, her sultry eyes knowingly looking at him. Edward couldn’t give such information away; it would be treason. He stuttered for an answer, trying to find a way to deceive his interrogator. “British 29th, 85th brigade” he sputtered, remembering another division that was assigned on the “expedition” he had suffered through. That time seemed far away from now, rather than a few days ago. Edward shifted his seating in the chair as the woman wrote down what he had said.
The process went on for about an hour more, the woman asking more intrusive questions on the attack, and Edward spinning a web of lies, on everything from what ship he was on to the battle plans of the assault.
“I’m just a private, alright lass?!” he finally shouted, exhausted from his complicated deception. “I don’t remember much from that fuckin night, other than the hell I saw! And I doubt any of the boys you shot down on the cliffs would’ve known either! So just send me back to my cell and take me up again for some mongrel in a turban to cut my head off!” He rose from his chair, leaning over the desk, his being pulsing with fury. “I don’t know the details, and I doubt any of the mates down there know either” He emphasized, pointing at the floor to the cells, “The men you’re after are in their manors in England, not some privates you picked up from the beaches!”. He sat down in his chair, while the woman looked back at him in shock, her open mouth eventually reforming into her usual sly appearance. She stood up, walking around the desk with a slight emphasis on her steps, and brushed a lock of hair aside.
“I, Private Neumann, am not a ‘lass’. And nor do I plan on harming a man like you… so full of rage. So full of anger…” she bit her lip. “And I don’t want to see you go to be killed either.” she stood in front of him, one of her soft hands on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. She looked up at the private, then slightly pushed him aside. “Our meeting here is done”
She rang a small buzzer on her desk, and a guard brought Edward back to the cells. Before the door closed, Edward saw her red lips blow him a kiss. He stood in awe for a second, before being shoved back to the stairs by the guard. He couldn’t get that woman out of his head, even while he heard the click of the cell door locking him in. He had to see her again. I have to. He asked his other cellmates if they had seen this woman at all.
“I have” said one man, his whispers almost incomprehensible due to his thick Irish accent. “Name’s Boy Williams.”
“Edward Neumann” he replied. “Back to the girl, she’s a real beauty, aint she?” he asked. The other cellmates had woken up, and were half-listening to their discussion.
“Absolutely stellar” Boy replied, “Long hair, thin waist, and a perfect set of tits. I don’t know any man in Ireland who wouldn’t have glad eyes for her.” He paused, obviously remembering her, “and she even speaks English like one of the high lords”.
“Yeah” Edward grumbled, “the same high lords that got us rotting in this cell. Sitting with their nice ties and second homes while we fight the battles they plan.”
An older man cleared his throat, and raised his weak body up so he could talk to Edward and Boy. “The girl?” he asked, “her name’s Daniela Ilieva. And from what I seem to know from one of the guards, she’s an important lass…”
Daniela Ilieva went to her quarters that night dreaming of the private. He was a stubborn man, one that had right reason to hate his captors, but she saw he wanted her. She had been working as a translator long enough to recognize some cues. And men, she noted, were never good at hiding their secrets.
Daniela was born in Bulgaria in 1891, leaving for the city of Istanbul to flee from the Balkan Wars. Her father was the illegitimate son of a British soldier in the Crimean war, while her mother was a Bulgar as far back as they could trace. She had learned English from her grandfather, and spoke near fluently due to his death. She lived rather comfortably in Istanbul, learning Turkish quickly enough to get a position in the Ottoman government. With swarms of Bulgars and other Balkan peoples heading to Istanbul for safety, it was part of Daniela’s job to record these dispossessed families. With the ongoing battle in Gallipoli, she was reassigned to interrogate and keep track of all prisoners the Ottomans captured. Most of these men were like Edward; smelly, angry, and dishonest, but easy to crack open. Yet Edward had a strange aura of attraction, she felt like he was a man to marry. And he was, in her mind, a rather handsome man. But something about him opened up a desire in her, a gnawing hunger for love and passion. Daniela had other partners before, but she had been very careful. The last thing she wanted during her tumultuous job was to reduced to a housewife, caring for her c***d. But she didn’t care about having a c***d with Edward. He held a mix of youthful boyhood and responsible masculinity she hadn’t seen for a long time. She undressed from her uniform, and changed into a loose yet comfortable nightgown. She couldn’t sleep, and bit by bit her hands crept down to her crotch, and she felt the warmth of her fingers caressing her cunt. She murmured happily as she spread her lips open, fantasizing of Edward entering the room and taking her. She would give him freedom, and he would give her happiness.
Scenes of lust played in her mind as she continued to tease herself. She curled her toes to allow herself to going, eventually slipping 3 fingers in.
She sat upright, and began rocking her body on the bed, feeling the fingers explore her pink lips. Daniela then threw off her nightgown, and circled her nipple with her other hand. She was getting closer, her body now fucking her hand in rhythm. She gave a gasp as she felt the beginnings of an orgasm, and worked her fingers furiously, thinking of Edward, filling her with himself. His calloused hands kneading her soft breasts, his chest on hers, and the taste of his lips. She mouthed words of enjoyment for what felt like hours before the came, her body rocked by the three blasts of cum dripping from her. And if this is what she was with only thoughts of him,she wondered, what will I be like when I'm with him...
Avriella
- 23.01.2021
- 7
- 0
