Then he fainted again. When he woke up this time, he found himself in an aid station with his lower left leg now completely gone, with the stub cauter...zed and bandaged. Jesse had a burning fever and was only partially conscious for a brief time before he blanked out again. It was now 22 December and Joe Johnston had evacuated the army from the city the day before and fled across the Savannah River into North Carolina. Only the walking wounded had retreated with the army, the severely wounded. “Look, no hands." Steven laughed. Only my arms around his neck, and his deeply-buried cock, held me up. “You're filling me,” I squealed. "Fucking hell… oh yes, you're filling me right up.” “I'm gonna fill you with spunk,” he hissed, and I thought I could die from the pleasure his prick was providing. “Fuck, yes," I gasped into his mouth. "Shag me, darling, fuck my fucking brains out." I felt his hands on my ass and I squealed again as a finger slid into the tiny puckered hole. "Look what. More

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