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Julie moaned loudly, filling our entire 3000 square foot office with her cries of ecstasy. Julie's snatch was incredibly tight and it felt like she almost had to stretch to accommodate me."Sorry about that," Julie panted, rubbing her hands up and down my chest. "I've never had a cock so big inside me. God, I feel so full!"I smiled devilishly and began to work myself in and out of her, guiding her up and down off of my lap. My balls occasionally would smack against the cleft of her ass, adding extra pleasure and excitement to her already aroused lower region.Julie grinded herself up and down on top of me, closing her eyes and savoring the feeling every time she would fall downwards onto me. I was enjoying the feel of her soft, warm cunt, but my legs were getting sore from having to support her. Using my free hand, I swept aside the papers on my desk and lifted her up onto the heavy wooden surface.Laying down on the desk, Julie was able to spread her legs wider and give me better access. "It doesn't look like anything happened though. Oh my god, Peter!" Jennifer exclaimed as she pointed to Peter."What?" Peter jumped. "Did something happen to me?" Your fly," Jennifer said. "It's open!" Hmm," Peter said as he zipped his fly again. "I could have sworn I just zipped it up a moment ago." Do you think the spell caused that?" I guess that's possible," Peter agreed. "I don't know why there'd be a spell to unzip my fly though."Jennifer giggled. "Maybe the witches wanted a way to embarrass the wizards?"Peter laughed at Jennifer's joke. "Try it once more and see if it happens again. Let's make sure my zip is done," he said as he touched his zip. He nodded at Jennifer.Jennifer repeated the spell once again. This time, she skipped the box and looked straight at Peter once she was done. "It doesn't look like - oh!"Peter watched as his fly slowly moved down, as if a hand was pulling it."Whoa," Peter said softly, "that's kind of strange to watch." So now we know the spell did it for.
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I had seen too many young men perish in this war because infection, not weapons, posed a more imminent threat to their lives. I would not stand by to witness another death. He groaned, and I looked into his eyes, seeing in them a pain that had been unmasked. ‘This looks like an infection. How long has it been this way?’ I asked. ‘Not long. Two days, maybe three,’ he replied. ‘It’s nothing to worry about.’ ‘Lie back. Let me see the wound.’ ‘No! Anna, the scar is horrible. I can barely look at it myself.’ ‘I doubt that it is the worst shrapnel injury I have seen. Take off your trousers and let me see.’ I commanded. Erich did as he was told. I turned my back as he shed his trousers and covered himself with the coverlet. When he was ready, I studied the wound. Shrapnel had ripped through his left thigh, leaving a deeply pitted scar. The scar itself was deep, rough, burgundy, and all around it the skin was ruddy and irritated. He watched me anxiously as I gently touched the tips of my.

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