The 102nd Virginia Ch. 01

"Get it good," she heard from behind.

She stroked the cock a couple more times.

Outside, Jack was finishing up his task of loading the wagon, making sure a few weeks worth of flour and sugar were left for Elizabeth. That's when he heard the scream. Jack jumped onto the porch, pulled the door open and ran up the steps.

The sight in the bathroom stopped him cold in his tracks. Elizabeth was bent over the tub, Wilson's cock in her mouth. Sam was yanking off her drawers with her dress bunched up at her waist. The pale ass that appeared still had scratch marks from the session in the cellar.

Sam was pulling out his cock, intent on using it, while Elizabeth's head bobbed up and down. Jack felt totally powerless and somewhat guilty at the excitement the scene gave him. He couldn't stop staring at Elizabeth's tiny ass with its round cheeks and petite crack. He watched as Sam pulled it apart, putting his cock at the entrance to the same hole Jack had used less than an hour before.

Elizabeth cried out as Sam thrust into her. Then Wilson pushed her head back down onto his cock and she was silent again, except for some unmistakable moans when Sam started fucking her harder.

Wilson came first. With a loud exclamation, he pushed his cock higher and shot stream after stream of cum into Elizabeth's mouth until it leaked out and dribbled down her cheek. Elizabeth clung to the side of the tub even after finishing with Wilson.

Sam was close behind. He, too, made it very evident when his cock emptied itself inside her. He had pulled at the front of her dress until her tits hung free, and Wilson played with them roughly. During it all, Elizabeth tried her best to hide her own orgasm, making her moans sound more like suffering than release.

Jack went outside and sat on the wagon.

###

Jennie Campbell struggled with the sack of grain, resting it uneasily on the back of the wagon while she sought a better grip. Just as she thought the bag would tumble to the ground, a pair of large arms replaced her hands and effortlessly tossed the grain into its proper place.

"Ooooh, gracious," she yelped. "Thank you so...much."

She hesitated when she turned and stood face to face with Henry Evans, the grain store owner's son.

"No problem, Jennie."

"That would have been quite a mess," she said. "Thank you."

She'd known Henry his entire life. They were only separated by four years and she couldn't believe he was twenty already. Of course, the two years he spent in the war had aged him considerably. When his enlistment was up, he came home to southern Virginia to help out his parents. But soon, he'd be back with his regiment, defending his home state again.

"Heard from Mr. Campbell lately?" he asked, wiping the sweat from his brow with his hat.

"Not in a long while," Jennie said mournfully. "It worries me so."

"I heard 'em say yesterday Lee would be in Baltimore in a week, and then Washington, and the war will be over."

"I do hope so," Jennie said with wide eyes. "Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

"C'mon in and have some coffee," Henry urged her.

"No, Henry. I can't. I got to..."

"C'mon. I haven't had a chance to spend time with a real lady in...seems like years," he implored.

"Oh," she sighed. "I guess just for a few minutes."

The smile on Henry's face said everything. Jennie was actually glad for the invitation, but wouldn't show it. She had been so lonely on the isolated farm. And no mail from Jack truly upset her. A few minutes with an old friend might be comforting.

Henry Evans wasn't the best looking man Jennie ever knew. He wasn't the strongest, or tallest, or smartest. He was merely the nicest to her, next to Jack. Perhaps she was the big sister he never had. Before Jack, people that knew Jennie and Henry tried in vain to get them together. Only once, when she was about fifteen, did Jennie ever consider the idea.

Henry always liked Jennie, with her flowing hair and delicate features. He liked the way she let her dresses hang open at the top, not like the old fashioned ladies in town. He liked her self-assurance and get-it-done attitude. But his introversion never allowed him to approach her, until this moment.

The war had an effect on everybody.

Henry accompanied Jennie to the store's rear office. Along the way, he stopped at a small wood burning stove that provided a means to heat water, even though the best venting system never prevented it from overheating the store in the summer. Henry considered it a small price to pay for a chance to entertain Mrs. Campbell.

He mixed the coffee inside the office while Jennie pulled over a chair.

"Where's your daddy today?" she asked.

"Over at the Zeller place. He'll be all day."

"So you're the boss for now?"

Henry laughed. "I guess. We'll go out of business for sure. Ol' John will keep up with things, I hope."

He handed Jennie a heavy mug.

"It ain't the best," he warned her.

"That's OK, Henry. I make the worst."

They chatted while the sounds of business occasionally rang out around them. At one point, the noise progressed to the point where Henry went to the door and looked out, asked John if everything was OK, and then pulled the door shut as he reentered the office.

"I guess it beats getting shot at by yankees," Henry admitted. "I'll git more of that soon enough."

Jennie looked at him carefully. "What's it like, Henry? Being a soldier. Being shot at."

She didn't ask for his sake, or hers. She wanted to know what it was like for Jack.

"Oh, most of the time you're bored to death," he sighed. "You're in camp, doin' nothin'. Then you march and do nothin' some more. The food's bad. You're hot. Cold. Wet. Can't find water."

It wasn't what Jennie needed to hear.

"Then all of a sudden you're being thrown into a fight. Sometimes big. Sometimes small. But what the hell is the diff'rence when you're bein' shot at?"

"Ever been hit?" Jennie asked.

"Nope, thank the Lord."

"I hope you don't," Jennie said. "I hope nobody gets hurt ever again after this damn war."

She looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

Henry laughed loudly. "You ain't never sat around a camp fire with a bunch of drunk Confederates, have you?"

She shook her head.

"Good thing," Henry said. "Hard to say what they might do to you."

Jennie blushed and held the mug in both hands. "I doubt if anybody besides Jack looks at me in that way."

"Ah, don't be so sure, Jennie. There's loads of men would love to come back to you."

Jennie sipped her coffee to avoid having to say more. But that just gave Henry an opening to get up and walk over to her. He had been gazing at her diminutive face, buried in the lush hair, long enough to build up the courage he so often lacked. Now he imagined himself the wearied soldier returning to her welcoming arms.

Jennie followed him with her eyes. He looked down at her, his focus alternating between her face and her dress. He stood next to her and Jennie got the same feeling inside that she did when she saw him outside at the wagon; an energized feeling. His hand touched her and she felt the jolt of stimulation. No man had touched her since...since Jack left so long ago.

Henry took the mug from her and put it on the desk. He ran both hands down the side of her head and neck, capturing her thick hair in the process. He pulled it back, behind her, letting nothing interfere with the top of her dress.

"A man would be a damn fool for ignoring you, Jennie."

Her heart pounded. She felt beads of perspiration gathering under her bangs. She licked her dry lips and felt her throat begin to tighten as Henry's hands touched her shoulders and upper arms.

"Stand up, Jennie."

She was tempted to stand up and walk to the door. But his hands never left her and she enjoyed it. She took pleasure in a pair of strong hands holding her again. Jennie stood in front of her long-time friend, allowing him to cling to her.

Henry reached around to the front of her dress, near the neck but low enough to feel the skin below it.

"Henry," Jennie said meekly.

"Shhh."

His lips were next to her ear. He could smell her hair. She could feel his breath. His fingers slid lower until reaching a button. He opened it and caressed her. Only a hint of the top of her breasts was evident.

She turned so rapidly he couldn't prevent it. But there was no anger in her eyes or voice.

"Henry, no. Jack would...he would...," Jennie stammered.

"Jack's a far way from here, Jennie."

He saw the pain in her eyes as she contemplated his words. Henry held her by the arms and leaned down. He kissed her briefly, with no force behind it. Jennie was like a rag doll until a few seconds after the kiss. Then she returned the kiss with a touch more fervor. In the middle of it, Henry put his arms on her back and pulled her towards him, turning the kiss into something more.

Their bodies came together. Their tongues collided and Jennie was pushing her fingers through Henry's long, thick hair. He nearly lifted her off the ground with the ardor of his embrace and Jennie stood on her tiptoes. She felt the hardness between his legs. It only excited her into a longer kiss with soft moans of bliss.

Henry put a hand between them and clutched at a breast through her dress and undergarments. She protested without ever breaking off the kiss or letting go of her young companion. Then two hands opened another button of her dress and slid under her camisole to feel the soft skin of her breasts.

Finally, she escaped the kiss. But her mind was racing too fast for conscious thoughts to register. She reached down and felt his cock, rubbing it and gripping it with all her fingers. Henry was pushing her dress apart, desperate to find the nipple at the end of her tit.

"Henry! No!"

Jennie took a step backward, seizing the open flaps of her dress and fretfully buttoning it back up.

"I'm...I'm sorry, Jennie. I...I..."

Jennie ran her hands through her hair, tried to catch her breath, and rushed past Henry.

"I must go, Henry."

Henry threw himself into the office chair, staring at the ceiling until hearing the sound of Jennie's wagon rapidly rolling away.

(To be continued...)