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"God, Bruno. No wonder I love you so much. You're absolutely bloody marvelous," Pamela Bradley-Browning shrieked as one final thrust of Corporal Bruno Sabatini's magnificent cock gave her the fantastic climax she'd spent most of the afternoon thinking about and hoping for.
"Sssh. I love you, too, my precious. But we really must be careful and keep the noise down," Bruno said in his upper class British accent that matched Pamela's to perfection.
It was an accent Pamela knew he'd acquired before the war, first by attending a British prep school and, later, one of Britain's famous public boys' schools.
"If one of those Home Guard chaps catch us up here in the hayloft, there's no doubt but what the fool will shoot first and ask questions later. Don't forget, bella, I am a prisoner of war."
"My prisoner," Pamela purred as Bruno's mouth moved down her neck to suckle her breasts, and she began stroking his limp prick back into action. As she already knew from past experience, reviving his ardor would just take a few minutes, five at the very most.
"The best thing about you English girls is that you adore sex," Bruno said, with a chuckle, as Pamela continued coaxing him back into operational mode. "Not like the girls at home who want a promise of marriage before they'll even let you kiss them, then run home screaming to their mamas the instant you even try to put your arm around them."
"You seem to know an awful lot about English girls."
"I met one or two while I was at school here."
Pamela gave an amused chuckle. "I think you mean one or two dozen, right?"
Bruno abandoned her breasts in favor of giving her a hurt look. "You make me soundlike a selfish, bed-hopping cad. I assure you I'm nothing like that. Yes, I've known one or two English girls. But neither of them were anything like you, bella. I love you. And one day, I hope to make you my wife. There will never be anyone else for me but you. How many times must I tell you this?"
"I don't know. But please don't stop."
In even less time than usual, she felt his shaft harden and grow, but she continued to withhold herself from him as she stroked and fondled his balls.
"Please, bella, stop teasing me. Now! I need you now," he insisted.
Opening her legs, she guided his erect cock back into her slit. "How's that?"
"Magnifico, my love. Feels wonderful, yes?"
She laughed and wrapped her legs around his waist, loving the sensation of him pushing inside her. "Well, you have none of that prudish stuff to worry about with me. Even if we could get married, which we can't, I'm not interested in settling down with you or anyone else until this stupid war is over. And if I went to my mother and told her that you'd taken advantage of me, she'd tell me to grow up."
The two things Pamela liked most about Bruno were his devil-may-care attitude to life and his huge appetite for sex. He said he'd started the war as an officer in the Italian army, but then his superior officer's wife had complained to her husband that Bruno had attacked her, and he was demoted to the rank of corporal. Bruno had assured Pamela the woman's allegations were untrue. He said she was the one who had wanted him to sleep with her, and when he'd refused, she'd taken her revenge by making up the story about him attacking her.
As Bruno began to ride her with slow, measured thrusts, Pamela made the soft little moaning and groaning sounds of pleasure she knew he liked. Falling in love with an Italian prisoner of war was not the cleverest thing she'd ever done. For starters, fraternizing with the enemy was against the law.