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In the dark, all I knew was they were tall, strong, smelled of man. Definitely a man, but not James. I was by this point after much grinding and alcohol, extremely turned on, ready to go at a moment’s notice, and I bit at the man’s lip, pulling on it with my teeth, moving to his neck and biting there… “Mmmm, Jane,” he moaned as my hand slid down his hard body, and pressed against his ever hardening cock. I don’t know whether I was accustomed to these sudden urges or not, but I slipped to my knees and kissed over the denim that covered him. His hands went to my head and he sighed a yes and suddenly, I realised who the voice belonged to. Aaron, Ella’s boyfriend. I found myself overcoming any remaining inhibitions that I had and opening his jeans, pushing down his boxers and taking his cock for my own. I ran my tongue round his head, teasing at him, tasting the pre-cum that was already leaking from him. I took an inch or so more of him, and then my fingers started to play with his. The funny thing is that we move into my ex's parents house which was fucking hell for me, i was athiest and didnt really care what to "good lord" intendend (no offence to any christians out there iam very openminded so dont worry) but we had to sleep in seperate rooms and all thatso i don't know why but the night this all went down my ex gf was look absolutly stunning she was tall(ish) slender body frame really nice petite tits tanned and just got a really hot haircut that day, but i was telling her all night (the chances i got to speak with her) just how sexy she look and how bad i wanted to fuck her, she just shrugged me off and told me not to talk like that.so then comes the night iam laying in my room looking up and the roof and just thinking about how much of a shit situation iam in and about how she was looking that day and start to drift off to sleep, couldn't have been alseep for more than a half hour when i hear some footsteps coming from the hallway, by this time iam wide.
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The British counterattack, which we had heard some of the next day, evidently failed miserably. I had already reported that the artillery ammunition was much depleted at Glouster. The noose was tightening. We were now firing six or seven rounds for every one of theirs, and the fort's walls, at least on our side of the river, were showing the effects of the continuous pounding.Suddenly a troop of Tarleton's cavalry stormed out of the fort and up the hill toward our small camp. We stood our ground as long as we could, firing volleys with our muskets and then scattered into the woods to watch them trample our tents. I sent all the men I could find back to headquarters. A half-hour later I crept up to a place on the fortress wall where one of the big French shells had buried itself before exploding. Scudding clouds covered the sickle moon, and I felt safe from discovery unless I did something stupid.Before me on the floor of the English fort, wagons were being loaded and teams harnessed.

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