Edith gasped as Ralph entered her.
They’d snuck away from the VE Day celebrations, behind the houses into the poppy field, sowed to commemorate the fallen of the last war.
A Yank in uniform looked irresistibly handsome through beery eyes.
Edith, recalled her brave betrothed, overseas.
Ralph’s semen spurted. Her pussy clenched, a tidal wave of bliss drowned-out the nearby revelry.
“You’re a swell dame,” he’d panted.
Virginity lost, Edith eyed the nylons and chocolate at her side.
Nine months later…
Another reward.
Edith’s war-anguished husband stared in disbelief, at the brown-tinged baby in the maternity ward crib.
Shellshocked anew.
