She looked up at him, hurt registering in her eyes until he brought her to him. He kissed her possessively and rolled her onto her back. She shuddered with anticipation at what she hoped was coming. He knelt between her legs and placed a finger to her slit, it was wet and he slid two fingers into her slit, sliding them up and down spreading her juices completely about her sex. He brought his hand to his mouth to taste the sweet muskiness of her. He bent forward and again kissed her completely, possessively. He rose up, kneeling between her legs he looked at her before him, he never tired of looking at her, the shadows cast by her breasts in the moonlight, her hair splayed across the pillow, the curve from hip to waist. He still did not understand, and probably never would, why she had chosen him. But as always he was profoundly moved and thankful for the gift of her body that she offered him so willingly. He bent forward bringing his male to her female, she took him in hand and. As we turned at the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay and began another week of sailing, this time northward, I was taken to one of the ships that carried General Howe's horses. The sailors called their ship a ketch, and it held three large pens of horses, all in various states of distress. I was a replacement for several men who had died or had fallen or been kicked overboard. A half dozen cavalrymen or dragoons were aboard, but there was little anyone could do for the poor animals. Evidently the British had planned on a much shorter trip, and both fodder and water was in short supply. My job was to cull out the most distressed animals and coax, lead or push them to a hatch where they were shoved overboard. Each morning, there were dead horses to be disposed off and by the end of each day of sailing I had delivered a few more quivering mounts to be dropped into the Chesapeake.When we finally reached Head of Elk, at the far northern end of the huge Bay, they lowered the ramps, and we herded.
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