A Soldier Returns

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A soldier returns from a long campaign.
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I have been campaigning in Europe for six months. I have not been home in that time and so setting foot in my own country is an emotional thing. I have survived the dangers and disasters of war and am keen to return to my home, my wife and my family. My duties to the country fully discharged I am convinced of a quiet and peaceful retirement to watch my family grow, my farm flourish and my interests in the City grow and make me comfortably rich. I have made good friends and allies during the last six months and come to the notice of the ruling classes as in one lords words "a calm and steady hand on the helm under difficult circumstances".

It is a beautiful evening as I ride up to my home and am greeted by my beautiful wife, radiant in the sunset of golds and purples.

I greet the servants by name, so pleased to be back and see familiar and friendly faces.

"Come." says my beautiful wife "come and get out of your travelling clothes, have a bath and relax before dinner is served."

She takes my hand and leads me down familiar corridors to our bedroom. We enter and I close the door, shooing away the staff who have followed us. The moment the door is closed, I kiss my beautiful wife on the lips and then bend her over the back of the couch, lift her dress, part the pantaloons she is wearing and without much ado thrust my aching cock into her. She gasps as she is not ready for penetration, so I pull back, lubricate the head of my cock with spit and try again. This time I slide in without any trouble and she sighs softly. I press into her, all the way until my aching ball are hard against her. I pause to glory in the feeling of her cunt. Of warmth, of tightness and of wetness. Then I cannot control myself and gripping her by the hips I pound into her tight cunt. Six months of abstinence make me impatient and uncontrolled and after a handful of thrusts I flood her cunt with wave after wave of hot cum. She moans gently and stays where she is as I gasp and groan, shuddering as the first wave breaks and starts to recede.

I lift her up, turn her around and kiss her soft, succulent mouth. She presses herself against me and we cling to one another. A wave of peace, joy and happiness wash through me. I start undoing buttons and bows on her dress and slowly undress her, kissing every newly exposed patch of skin. First her neck, swan like, soft and smooth, then down to her breasts, tipped with pink nipples. They feel bigger, softer, more kissable than I remember so I spend time tasting her breasts, feeling her respond to my lips on her naked skin.

Reluctantly I leave her breasts and work my way down across her belly, which is rounder than I remember, but soft and kissable and I trace the shape of her belly with my lips until I find her pubic hair, carefully trimmed and arrow like pointing down to her swollen cunt lips. I gently push her onto her back on the bed, spread her legs, kissing all the way around her cunt, tasting our mingled juices on her thighs and slowly move into taste her hot wet cunt. Her rising moans are music to my ears, her involuntary movements as she tries to hurry my progress are beautiful and arousing beyond telling and by the time I have her clit in my lips, I have a raging erection that only wants one thing and that is to thrust inside her, plough her furrow deep and well and then plant my seed in her fertile belly. I want an heir and I want lots of children. I want her to carry my children.

She grabs at my head, pulling me up away from her clit, up past her belly, across her breasts, up to her mouth. We kiss and she slides a hand in between us and grasps my cock, still slick with our mingled juices.

"Now!" she whispers, "Now take me. Fill me up. Reclaim your wife."

Her sly hand positions my cock at the mouth of her cunt and she wraps her legs around me and pulls me down and into her, crosses her legs and holds me there slowly grinding her hips up against me moaning loudly as she does so. Her movements become harder, faster and more desperate until she frees me to pull back then then thrust into her causing her to gasp and make whimpering sounds as if in pain. The sound of our bodies rhythmically slapping together drowns out the sound of all else and we are lost in each other, her fingernails rake up and down my back, marking my skin and spurring me on.

"Harder, harder!" she chants and then with a strangled cry she arches upwards against my thrusts, collapsing under my weight and once again trapping me onto her belly. I frantically thrust with short hard thrusts into her until I feel my balls pulsing and I shoot hot semen deep inside her. She goes on shuddering and gasping for a while as I hold her tight, then slowly calms and looks deep in my eyes.

"I missed you so much." She whispers and then begins to cry. I try in my foolish way to comfort her and feel that I have failed.

We lie and talk for a while and then I go for my long awaited bath. Mrs Smith gently chides me for allowing my bath to grow cold, but then giggles a bit and blushes and hurries out of the bathroom before I can fully respond.

Dinner is a fairly long and lavish affair with neighbours from all sides coming to welcome me home, so it is fairly late before my wife and I can retire. I have drunk a bit more wine than usual and the days travelling has worn me out so when we retire to bed, I do not try to make love to my wife but hold her in my my arms and stroke her silken hair and I fall asleep soon after going to bed.

I awake in the darkness, soft subtle movements have awoken me and I feel a hand on my cock, stroking it into hardness and once semi erect, I feel my foreskin being pulled back and a soft mouth on the tip of my cock, a tongue runs disturbing paths around the shaft and down to my balls, a hand gently rubs up and down in a regular movement and soon the mouth is moving in time with the the hand. Up and down, up and down until I am as hard as I was the first time I entered her. She rises up above me, straddling my hips and guides my throbbing cock into her, then with an achingly slow movement she impales herself on my cock until she is resting on my my hips. I reach up and caress her beautiful breasts, teasing each nipple with the tip of a finger. I run my hands down to her belly, caressing it, feeling it. She sighs and starts to move, slowly and sedately at first and then with increasing speed and energy. She is gasping and whimpering as she moves up and down, her juices puddling on my balls. Suddenly she collapses forward on me.

"I can't. I can't go on. Finish it please." she gasps.

Holding her taut buttocks in my hands I thrust upwards into her, listening to the almost animal grunts she is making as I thrust into her. Suddenly she arches her back forcing her breasts onto my chest, her belly onto mine.

"Aarrggh!" she cries then collapses on top of me.

I am still hard and ready to go so I slide out from under her, lift her onto her knees, grab a handful of her long hair as rein, pull her head back and fuck her brutally from behind. I hear her starting to whimper at the harshness of my fucking but that is soon drowned out as I ride her hard, my balls slap against her cunt, my hips slam into her buttocks. I ride her like I would ride a charger attacking the enemy. I go on like this until I can last no more and I pump hot semen into her and we collapse in a lovers tangle both breathing hard.

I run my hands over her swollen breasts and down to her swollen belly. I caress it gently, feeling its roundness and as I do I feel her body tense up as if waiting for a blow.

"Who?" I whisper quietly in her ear. "Who ploughed your furrow and planted his seed in you. You are at least 3 months gone and I was not here."

"No." she says, "It isn't true. I was good and faithful all this time."

"You are pregnant. I can feel it in your body."

"It's not true."

"You have two options. Tell me the truth and we will find a way to cover this up. Lie to me and you go back to your father, with your dowry and my explanation of the situation. I am sure he will be pleased to see you back. Now. Tell me. Who was it?"

She lies there sobbing quietly, back turned away from me. I cannot bear her pain and I stroke her back as she cries.

"Charles." her voice is a mumble.

"Charles? My brother? He fucked you? Made you pregnant?"

"It was a mistake."

"Mistake to get pregnant? Mistake to fuck him? Mistake to invite him over?"

"He came over to deliver your letters. They ended up with your father and he offered to deliver them. I invited him to stay over as it was late and it was cold. We had dinner together. We both drank too much wine."

To my horror and shame, my cock was starting to get hard and my hands started to move over her body.

"We ended up in bed together. I am sorry! So sorry."

"Tell me everything. Leave out no detail."

"Why?"

Tell me!"

"Oh, God. I can't. It was too horrible."

"Not so horrible that you summoned the servants and had him expelled from the house. Not so horrible that you ended up in bed together? Which bed? This one?"

"No. The guest room."

"Tell me what happened. From the beginning. You sit down to a romantic dinner. Just the two of you? Genteelly sipping wine and flirting."

"No. It didn't happen like that. It didn't."

I suddenly found myself curious and embarrassingly turned on by the idea of my beautiful wife telling me an erotic story. If she could keep the nieces and nephews enthralled with fairy stories, maybe she could do the same with me and an erotic story.

"Well then, you are so good at telling stories to your nieces and nephews, tell me the story of how it happened. Not just the broad details. In detail! Every sigh, every thrust, every kiss. All of it. Tell me a story."

"What? are you serious? You want to humiliate me? Laugh at me?"

She starts to cry.

"Tell me the story. Tell me so I know what happened and can judge what I must do."

I wait patiently as she gathers her thoughts and I see the light of creation slowly grow in her. It happens when she tells fairy tales. She seems to somehow grow into another being, her voice drops an octave and she speaks in a beautiful singsong rhythm. Adults are dragged into the fantasy world she weaves. I just hope that the story she tells me is closer to the truth than the fairy stories she weaves. Whatever she does, it is likely to be a well told tale and I for one will not sleep this night because of the turmoil raging in my head so she might as well tell me a story to while away the empty hours before dawn.

I prop myself up against the head board, wrap a gown around my shoulders and wait for her to begin.

She sits looking down for a while thinking, then she looks up, my wife is gone and the story teller is present. She looks directly at me, but I feel she is not really seeing me, rather a world I cannot see and she retreats into story teller mode - relating the story about someone else, not her.

"It was all his fault you see. She was a product of her society. Raised in a strict, religious household where girls were expected to grow up into decent women who would produce children, run the house and be the pillar of society. Keeping and enforcing societal norms and morals. But she was different you see. Secretly different.

One terrible day just after her 18 th birthday, her mother caught masturbating and beat her. Her mother also insisted that she should go to confession and confess her "mortal sin".

The priest was furious with her. He agreed that it was a mortal sin and that she should desist immediately and never do it again. He threatened the pain of eternal damnation. She went home terrified and tried to obey. She really did. Her fear of eternal damnation, the wrath of her mother and the priest managed to keep her away from her mortal sin for less than a week until the pressure to relieve her building tension overcame her fear and she quietly and vigorously rode her teddy bear to a shuddering climax. She never tried to abstain again, she just became more devious, more cautious and increasingly scornful of the ban on her secret activities.

She knew that the feelings she was experiencing were linked to sex and to the making of babies and for a short while she comforted herself that she would be able to relieve her tension with her husband, using him to avoid damnation. This daydream lasted until an older cousin married and told the assembled unmarried girls about her honeymoon night.

"I got into bed and waited for him to come to me. He was drunk when he arrived, could scarcely stand. He pulled the bed clothes off me, ripped my night clothes and forced himself into me. It was painful but he didn't stop. It was awful. Fortunately he didn't last long. He grunted twice, rolled off me an passed out. I lay there next in pain to him until I knew he was well asleep and then I went to the bathroom and wiped the mess he had left behind. I found that I had been bleeding from his intrusion and I was raw and sore. He woke up next morning, did it to me again then disappeared to go off with his friends. He only visits about once a week. Enough time for me to heal. I was so grateful when I knew I was pregnant and could tell him to leave me alone."

The description was echoed a few months later by another distant cousin which spread terror amongst my circle of friends. So when she was married she was terrified of what he was going to to to her. But he didn't do any of those terrifying things. He was reasonably sober and when he climbed into bed with her he held her tenderly in his arms. Kissed her gently and murmured gentle words in her ear. The tingling feeling of her mortal sin started to intrude so that when he started to stroke her breasts, she could feel her pussy becoming wet, almost inviting her to stroke it. When he kissed her nipples, she could feel the urge grow more insistent, but she was still afraid of what he would say or do if she started stroking herself and anyway, he was doing new exciting things to her. Involuntarily she moaned softly which seemed to prompt him to move slowly down her body till he found her swollen, wet, aching pussy. She stretched her legs wide, wider and started stoking his head, encouraging him to continue. Then he found her secret special place and started to suck it. Without thinking about it she started to ride his face like she did with her teddy and then without warning her climax raced up on her and she moaned, "Oh, God!" and lay shuddering there as he rose up over over and for the first time she saw the huge monstrous thing that had caused her cousin so much pain and bleeding. She recoiled, terrified.

"Don't be afraid." he said "I will be as gentle as possible."

He knelt between her legs and slowly moved forward and for the first time she felt his cock gently pressing against her and then slowly spreading the lips of her pussy. She felt his heat, his hardness and was at once terrified and excited. Wanting the monstrous thing inside her but terrified of the pain her cousin talked of. He push in a bit further, she felt him spreading her wide, minor pain but excruciating desire.

"More?" he asked.

She could only nod. He pushed forward slowly, widening her pussy passage, slowly penetrating her with ease, she was gasping now, feeling the urge to feeling him thrusting into her grow.

"Yes. More!" she whispered. He pushed forward, then there was pain. Not terrible, but pain none the less.

"This going to hurt. Can you take it?" he asked. She lay there feeling the promised pain, but also feeling the growing lust in her body. She took a deep breath.

"Do it!" she whispered. He thrust forward into her and the pain came, stinging, unexpectedly harsh and she cried out. He pulled out immediately and held her gently in his arms.

"Its over. It will never be that sore again."

She looked up at him and found trust and an overwhelming lust for him.

She remembered hearing the word and knew what it meant and knew that it was the right word for the moment.

"Fuck me!" she said.

"You sure?"

"Yes. Do it in me."

He pressed his cock into her and she winced as he rubbed against the shattered hymen. He stopped.

"No! Don't stop. I need you to fuck me."

He continued, thrusting with increasing strength until he spurted hot semen into her.

He pulled out of her gently and held her while she cried. Over the next three months he tutored her in the arts of sex. Soon she was a confident, experience lover but sadly from all their efforts, she did not fall pregnant. But he did captivate her entirely. She needed his touch, his presence. She felt empty when he was away.

Then he left to go to war.

His absence was a huge aching crater in her life. Her mortal sin was a grey substitute for his touch and presence.

Then his brother Charles arrived with the post from her husband. She rushed off to read the letters which only inflamed her lust and her loneliness so by the time she met Charles she was in a frenzy of frustrated lust and impatience. Lust induced by her husbands letters, impatience that she had to be polite to her brother in law over dinner before she could retire and use a hairbrush to simulate her husband.

She drank too much, her lust driving all her appetites and Charles kept pace with her. Soon they were joking about absent spouses and how to deal with loneliness. Foolishly she said that a hairbrush was not a good substitute.

"Anyway," said Charles "It is too small. You need a real man to fill your emptiness."

"Yes. But it is after all a substitute."

"How can a beautiful woman such as yourself lower yourself to a small substitute."

"Nothing bigger." she slurred pouring them both another glass of wine.

"Yes, he is well hung isn't he?"

"I have no comparison so I don't know."

"Ah then I must give you a comparison to work against. Mine is bigger than his."

"Never!"

"Of course it is. Let me show you."

And before she could object he had stood up and exposed his partially erect cock.

"That isn't as big as my husband Michael."

"Of course, it isn't now. It just needs to grow to its fully size. Here, just give it a stroke and see the difference."

She leant forward and took his cock in her hand. Part of her shrieking about adultery and not to do it but the other part in full lust driven impatience won the argument. She gave Charles' semi erect cock a few strokes and it did grow quite wonderfully. Amazed and amused she took his cock in her mouth and felt it swelling as she sucked. Almost of its own volition, her hand slid down to her aching pussy and started to gently finger it. Charles had her head in his hands and was pumping his fully erect cock in her mouth. He did not last long and spurted into her mouth. She spat the semen out on the floor.

"Enough." She said, but he grabbed her, bent her over the table, flipped her skirt over her shoulders and rammed his still erect cock into her dripping cunt. The feel of a hard, erect cock in her cunt stifled her protests as he thrust into her, balls slapping against her, hips slamming into her backside. It was not long before she was moaning with desire, lust and pent up emotion.

"AH!" she said, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

"She reaches between her legs and rubbed her clit, gasping as the friction of Charles' cock and the finger action drives her toward and towering orgasm.

She came hard but Charles didn't stop, pounding into her dripping pussy. He is breathing hard, still slamming into her.

"Your cunt should have been mine! He got you because he was the oldest. Now I have you all to myself."

He suddenly cums deep inside her.

"He's been pumping you full of semen for 3 months and not a baby in sight. He can't. He knows. My father knows. Everyone knows except you. Me? They have had pay off women from all over the county coming up with my little bastards. Him? None. Nothing. Wonderful lover. Useless stud. By the time I leave you will be pregnant. I will see to it."

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