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Tuesday 10 September 2013

Bridge page 4

Page 4
Jeppe turned his flushed face to see another young boer, called Marcel, standing at his shoulder, gun in hands. "Go and eat Jeppe, while its still hot. I'll bring the Khakis over, they've nearly finished."
Marcel was looking past him at the soldiers as he spoke, and Jeppe saw his brown eyes widen. From their angle Jeppe guessed what Marcel was staring at and resisted the impulse to turn around and follow his gaze. "Thanks I'm starving," he said, his voice sounding husky. Marcel made no reply but
continued to stare past him at the soldiers and Jeppe glanced down surreptitiously at the young man's groin. Marcel's big bulge was showing even more promise than usual, he thought and, smiling to himself, he moved away.

     Sitting cross-legged on the grass, Jeppe shovelled food into his mouth. He felt very pleased with
himself. He'd found a kindred spirit, possibly an ally and maybe more.  He must have a word with
Marcel before lights-out, he thought and then looked us at the murmur of voices around him
suddenly ceased. Marcel was leading the prisoners towards the cooking fires. Only after the
soldiers had each been given a grudging portion of stew and they'd been herded back to their tent did
the conversation resume. Jeppe pulled out his watch. Four hours before he was on guard duty, time to see Marcel and thenm get some sleep.

Chapter 2

     Corporal North lay on his back and watched the shadow of the pacing sentry pass across the
brightly moonlit canvas above his head. He guessed that about two hours had elapsed since they had been told to strip. Then they had been ordered into their tent and the entrance laced up. He sat up and glanced at his sleeping companions. Flint lay with his back towards him, snoring gently while Birch was sprawled on his back. Normally the sight of the youngster's thick shaft laying across his hairy belly would have had North's undivided attention, but not tonight. He knew somehow that he would get a signal and he hoped that he would make the correct response. He just might have a chance to
escape. The shadow passed again and laying back with a sigh, he cupped his aching balls in his hands.

     Suddenly he heard voices and he sat up, listening intently. They were speaking softly in Afrikaans,
"You're early man, couldn't you sleep?"
"Ja but an old man like you needs more sleep than me."
"Cheeky bastard, I can fuck all night and still do a day's work."
"Then you must have a brood-mare on your farm. As sure as hell, you can't have had a women for
over a year," There was the sound of a blow followed by a burst of laughter "What I fuck is my
business young man. You'd better be careful I don't come knocking on your backdoor some dark
night." More laughter. "Let's check the prisoners and you can be on your way."
"Why do you want to check the prisoners?"
"I don't want to stand here all night guarding a tent that could be empty for all I know."
"All right, come on then." The entrance was unlaced and a man leaned in through the opening. North saw that it was Jeppe with a wide grin on his handsome face. "Any of you men want to use the latrines?" North grinned back as his companions slept on. Jeppe lifted one palm and made a
circular motion with the forefinger of his other hand which he then raised. Understanding, North nodded and Jeppe quickly withdrew his head and closed the tent.
"Well if you're satisfied I'm off to bed."
"Fine. Goodnight, or should I say good fucking," Jeppe said.

     North tossed and turned in an agony of impatience and his balls ached abominably. When he
could wait no longer, he pulled on his boots and called to the passing sentry. "Let me out Dutchman.
I need to shit badly." He heard Jeppe curse, and a moment later the flap was opened and bright moonlight streamed in. North glanced back at the sleeping soldiers.  Birch had not moved but
Flint had rolled onto his back and, although his big hairy hand rested on his groin, his enormous glans could be seen gleaming in the moonlight. North stepped out and stood naked and erect before Jeppe,
who had his rifle aimed at his belly.  No longer shy, Jeppe let his eyes roam slowly over the body of the naked muscular man he had in this power. Then North noticed, they were not alone.

     Another boer lounged nonchalantly again a nearby tree, kneading his groin. He was a sturdy young man and like most boers wore a full beard. "Are we going to stand here all night while you ogle that khaki's fucking cock?" he said and reached for his rifle, which was propped against the tree beside him. "For Christ's sake, keep your voice down Marcel," Jeppe whispered. He then turned to North and, nodding in the direction of the latrines said, "Forward," in English. They still have'nt realized that I speak Afrikaans North thought. He stepped forward and felt the cold muzzle of Jeppe rifle pressed between his shoulder-blades. That could be handy.

     The passed the latrine trenches, crudely screened with pieces of tent-canvas and stepped in between some stunted trees and clumps of thick thorny scrub. Although the trenches, a few feet away were freshly dug, they already exuded a powerful stench of stale male piss. It was a smell that North had always found virile and exciting and he inhaled deeply. Marcel stepped close and spat in North's face. "Like it do you, the smell of manly boer piss, you fucking khaki pansy? North nodded. "Well,
I've got something you'll like even better.On your knees." With spit dripping from his moustache and chin, North dropped to his knees. Marcel moved closer, his groin only inches from North's face and
undid his fly button with trembling fingers. His thick cut cock sprung free and as he eased out his big balls, North got a strong whiff of Marcel's manly odour. Saliva flooded into North's mouth and he

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