Temptation by Leda Swann Read Free Book Online Page A

soldiers. They wrote of the dust and the dirt, of the boredom of having little to do in a country that didn’t want them to be there. They wrote of blazing sun and of card games in the mess, and of the loneliness that engulfed them when night fell.
    But Captain Carterton wrote of his dreams, of his feelings, of the things that mattered to him. Though she knew his words of love and desire were born out of loneliness and fantasy rather than from any true feeling for her, still his language was more than warm, it was positively scorching. It would be a breach of confidence to share any of his words, even the innocuous ones, with the other girls.
    Bronkhorstspruit, Transvaal, September 1880
     
    Dearest Beatrice,
    My heart increased apace when I received the envelope containing your last letter, but my, when I got to your postscript my breath stopped for an eternity. I have been wanting to write all my thoughts to you, but I had barely the courage to think such thoughts of you, let alone to put my desires into words .
    Many a night I lie in my tent, wondering what you look like in your undergarments. I know it is wrong of me, but a soldier must take his amusement where he can. You are an educated woman, a nurse, and I am sure you have anatomical knowledge of what happens when a lonely man thinks such thoughts .
    I feel compelled to put my desires and fantasies to paper, as I do not know if this will be my last letter to reach you for some time. Perhaps it will be the last I shall ever write in my lifetime. The Boers here are getting a bit restless, and I fear we may soon see a skirmish or two. You must forgive me, my darling, if my words are too strong. I hope and pray they do not offend you .
    Last night was typical of the lonely nights here. The nights are
    reasonably warm, and I lie on my stretcher with just a blanket for bedding. Can you imagine me lying there? I have removed my uniform and hung it carefully from the tent pole. Being an officer I have a tent of my own and I stand naked in the cooler evening air without fear of interruption from my men .
    I squint, and in my mind’s eye I can see you sitting on the edge of my stretcher in the darkness, looking at my nakedness. Already I am getting hard at the thought of lying next to you. I lie down under the coarse blanket and pushing it to the side think of your warm smooth skin next to mine instead. We are in England, where our touching is accompanied by the hoot of the tawny owl, rather than the growl of the night-hunting leopard, which is all too common here .
    I can feel your breasts, soft to the touch but with hard nipples erect with arousal. As am I. Your belly rises and falls with your breathing, and you squirm slightly when I tickle you in your navel. You stop the tickling by pushing my hand lower where I rest my hand in the tangle of your soft hair .
    Now I can feel your hand sliding across my leg seeking my desperate cock. Starting slowly you slide your hand up and down, full strokes that leave me straining for control after only a few moments. Desperately my fingers seek your moist pussy to return the pleasure. Feeling your warm wetness sends me over the edge and my cock spurts across my stomach and chest. Feeling this you cry out with your own pleasure, my fingers become drenched with your climax .
    Then my dream ends and I return to the reality of the Transvaal, my seed cooling on my body. I clean up with a cloth, cover myself with my blanket, and fall asleep with the thought of you next to me, the smell of your hair and the sound of your breath vivid in my mind. What a wonderful sleep!
    My darling Beatrice—it is now two days since I wrote these words. I am scared to send them, what will you think? Some depraved monster that needs to be locked away? What if the army censors read my letter? I care not what they think, but I do care for you. I hope you will read my letter and think of me as a lonely soldier 6,000 miles from home, thinking of you not just with