Chapter 53

Just before dawn,
Saturday, 28 June, 2014,
Temporary Clarke Residence,
Roanoke, Virginia...

I was balls deep inside Desiree Falco, while Mia licked her ass, reversing the order which had just taken place, when I heard a sharp knock on the bedroom door. Lieutenant Colonel Carl Munson was let inside by Marcy, of course, who seemed to grasp the seriousness of the occasion if he arrived this early, and at my personal residence to boot. Something big had to have transpired, more significant than even the attempt on my life that had killed two women and caused their corpses (which had miraculously vanished after resurrection) to miscarry.

“Apologies, Prophet ... and Mayor ... er, Prophet ... but something monumental has taken place! Major report from the Norfolk sector, sirs! The ASF has been expelled entirely from the suburbs of Norfolk and forced to withdraw in great haste and disarray to their bases in Suffolk and Williamsburg! They attempted to regroup and recover, but were forced to abandon considerable gear in their desperate retreat, which approached a panicky rout on their right flank!” Colonel Munson announced, just as Desiree squeezed my cock to force me to expel my seed inside her creamy twat.

Oh, yes, she creamed herself upon hearing of our (speaking collectively of the coalition, of course) victory at Norfolk, a major battlefield success after repeated reverses in the field. Was this, perhaps, as Churchill once so eloquently put it, “the end of the beginning”? In any case, something about a spectacular military defeat for the foe seemed to have especially aroused her, and Mia as well, from the way that the latter moaned in appreciation of the news. She also, in her excitement, placed an enthusiastic kiss on Colonel Munson’s lips while still tasting like her sister’s admittedly delicious bottom.

If Colonel Munson objected to such a kiss, in which he had to be able to detect traces of butt sweat on his taste buds, he didn’t protest the fact. He simply adjusted himself in a manner that strongly hinted of sexual arousal and probably an instant, albeit uncomfortable erection, and promptly cleared his throat as if to add something. I nodded at him, as did Austin, as we were the two primary intended auditors for his briefing.

“Continue, please,” Austin managed to croak a little, trying to ignore the fact that he just expelled a massive load of spunk inside Eve’s crimson pussy.

“Well, yes, of course, sir. In any case, the ASF’s northern contingents, perhaps unaware of the situation elsewhere, launched a major local attack upon Waynesboro, but were promptly repulsed just half an hour ago. The local garrison brushed them off, almost like swatting flies, which makes me wonder if perhaps the bad news finally reached the ASF field commander and staff by that point.

“Then again, it could have been intended as a diversion for the Norfolk assault or else a probing attack for the northern defenses. It seemed a bit large for the latter, though, by all accounts. A full armored brigade, six batteries of heavy and light artillery, and a full mechanized infantry division participated in the attack, after all. They were repulsed, as I noted, with shocking ease, by the small, but growing and entrenched local militia. Though, no doubt, the heavy entrenchment had some bearing on that. The war plans have borne out well in that respect, if nothing else,” Colonel Munson elaborated.

“The local commander in Waynesboro would presumably have plenty of illuminating answers in that respect. Kudos to him. What was his name, again?” Austin commented now.

“Colonel Andre Lassard, bro. A French-Canadian by birth, would you believe it! Damn good officer, from what I have learned of him, including my inspection of the defenses just ten days ago. I dig his mustache, too. Very impressive in a flamboyantly French fashion. Apparently descended from a captain who lost the use of his left hand at Leipzig due to grapeshot and emigrated to Quebec after Napoleon’s first exile to Elba. At least he was spared the fiasco at Waterloo,” I observed with pride, having handpicked Lassard myself for the Waynesboro post.

“Good man, then. Always nice to have one of those in a tight spot,” Austin quickly agreed, making Stephanie snicker.

“Sorry, but ... well, unintended double entendre there, well, you get the picture,” Steph explained, blushing a little now.

“Who said that it was unintended?” Jessie teased her.

“Touche,” Stephanie grinned and winked at Austin now.

“However, this raises the obvious question. What if they persist and renew the attack, or if they decide to go for another target instead? Those are both distinct possibilities that must occur to all of us, as much as we wish that it wasn’t necessary. In any case, it’s high time that we shower, brush, floss, get ready for the day, eat our breakfast, etc. Then we must go to the War Room and prepare to work this particular Saturday, alas. We had some great R and R last night, but it’s war and war isn’t a 9 to 5 job, is it? This war has demonstrated that, if we ever had any doubts,” I stipulated.

“Well said, of course, boss man!” Austin chuckled, because it was largely true.

He might be the Mayor, but there were no illusions by now who was really in charge of the war effort until it would be time for me to depart. Up until that point, I was the man of the hour. I was, as someone once called FDR, “Dr. Win-The-War.” Someone had to be in charge of this, had to have the ultimate authority, final say, and historic responsibility for guiding the critical decisions about who went where, when, how, and why.

I looked briefly and sadly at both of my new angelic companions, Sonali and Trish, embracing them as we recalled their miscarried fetuses. I made a mental note to hold a memorial service for them at some point before my departure for the West. For now, though, we consoled each other with sad smiles and kisses, even a light caress of skin on skin before I started my shower to prepare for my urgent day’s business as de facto Commander-in-Chief of the anti-fascist camp.

I wasn’t left alone, of course. Even though they were angels who didn’t require any cleansing these days, Trish and Sonali joined me under the jets and we washed each other with bittersweet love and lust. We comforted each other with even more kissing, fondling, and other sensual contact. I even played with their wings in the shower, which proved more sensitive than I might expect. Yes, before you ask, I ended up fucking them in the shower.

I also ended up licking them, just as they licked me and each other. My favorite part, though we had to rush it somewhat due to the war and everyone’s hunger for breakfast, was the rimming. What could I say? I’m a sucker for analingus, particularly the girl-on-girl variety when I’m fucking a lady and another woman is eating her ass, or when the fuckee is licking another woman’s butt. Two angels doing this with me? Oh, that scene was truly delicious!

As we finally sat down to breakfast, I noticed that none of the angels had left, nor had any of our distinguished guests. I also saw that Stephanie held a piece of paper in her hands, one that had been hastily drafted as a legal document. I knew the meaning and winked at her. I got it now. Before these others left, they wanted to witness our formal, if hasty coupling as man and wife. I was more than happy to take the plunge and add her as my latest bride.