Storiesonline.net ------- War Story by Ken Randall Copyright© 2002 by Ken Randall ------- Description: A World War II paratrooper is separated from his unit in Northern France on the morning of D-Day. He meets a beautiful young French girl on a quiet little country farm. She does not know English and he knows very little French. They find they are unable to communicate. The language of love is universal, however, and they discover just how fluent they are in the loft of the barn. Unfortunately a pair of German soldiers shows up in the middle of their adventure. Codes: Mf hist rom 1st lolita caution violent het Mdom rough interr oral size ------- Acknowledgements to Reinhard, for his help with the translation flaws. The French countryside looked nice enough where I'd landed. There were wide open fields, rolling hills, and a few farms scattered here and there along relatively peaceful dirt roads. The only trouble was I was no where near where I was supposed to be. We'd jumped from the plane just before dawn, but these god-awful crosswinds carried us beyond the drop zone and scattered us all over the country side. It was a big mess, but at least I hadn't landed anywhere near the enemy. I was thankful for that. I had only a vague idea where I was. There was distant gunfire in the north. We were suppose to rendezvous at the drop zone and march a few miles up the map to reinforce the Allied position around some stupid bridge the commanders thought was so important. That would have to wait. My first priority was to try to figure out where I was, and then somehow meet up with my squad without getting killed in this hostile territory. I stashed my parachute under the roots of a half-fallen tree, cocked my Thomson at the ready, and cautiously made my way toward the nearest farm house. With any luck there might be someone, or something there that could point me in the right direction. I made my way, trotting half hunched over along an old stone wall that wound along side the road to the farm house at the bottom of a hill. It was slow going, stopping every two minutes or so to scan the hills for any enemy troops. One man I could take out, maybe two if I was lucky, but any more than that and I would have to just hide and hope for the best. I definitely didn't like being all by myself like that. Every sign post and bush looked like a German Soldier to me. Every explosion in the distance made me flinch in the nervous tension of the morning air. It seemed strange to me to hear birds singing so peacefully, contrasted by the violence of the distant bombs. I wished they'd all shut up though, so I could hear if anything of immediate threat was coming up the road. Eventually I got to the bottom of the hill and hopped over the wall. I approached the farm with caution, creeping through the waist-high grasses along the side of the road until I got within a few yards of the barn. There I sat listening. I heard the chatter of dozens of birds. I heard a cow-bell clanging in the field somewhere. I heard the wind whispering over the grasses of the countryside. I even heard bugs buzzing and chirping all around me. But I didn't hear any Germans, and that's what was important. I poked my head up and looked around. No Germans. Then I trotted swiftly over and ducked into the barn. Inside there I slumped against the doorway to catch my breath. The barn smelled of damp hay. It's an aroma I'll remember forever. To this day when I walk into a barn I still remember that first step I took into that barn June 6, 1944. I sat in the doorway for what seemed like a long time, debating about whether to just run right up to the house and head inside. Having been invaded by Germany, the French generally favored Allies, and tended to help them out whenever they met them. At least that's what I'd been told. I'd also heard stories of French civilians turning in Allies to the Germans, hoping to curry favor with their brutal conquistadors. That's the thought that made me hesitate for so long. I hesitated so long in fact, that after a while I heard the soft singing of a young French girl heading toward the barn. I quickly scrambled behind a stack of hay bales and ducked into hiding. The young maid was singing some cheerful little tune. The tone of her voice reassured me that at least there were no Germans in the area, none that she knew of anyway. She seemed happy, or perhaps simply trying to distract herself from the noise of the distant coastal barrage. She stepped into the slanted sunbeam that streamed in from the barn door and paused, giving her eyes a moment to adjust to the decrease in light. Then she started singing again and went about whatever it was she'd come in there to do. I slowly peeked over the bale that hid me and saw her. She wore a little blue floral summer dress and apron. Her hair was dark brown, tied into two pony tails that hung down across each of her breasts. She was a lovely young girl of perhaps seventeen. I could not be certain in the light of the barn, though. I could see that she had a lovely set of breasts. That was for sure. Suddenly a twig snapped under my foot as I shifted my weight to get a better look at her face. "Qui est là?" she squeaked in fright, spinning in my direction. Fortunately I had ducked down in time. I froze in place like a statue, not even breathing. "Est-ce qu'il y a quelqu'un, qui est là?" she said again. I had no idea what she was talking about, but her voice sure sounded pretty. I still remember her voice ringing out in the silence of the barn, momentarily drowning out the noise of the distant war. She took a step toward the bales I hid behind. What would happen when she found me? Would she flee? Would she be friendly? Could she help me find my way to the rendezvous point? Finally I had to breathe, giving myself away. She gasped with girlish fright as I exhaled softly a few feet away from her. "Je suis un Américain, mademoiselle," I said finally, raising my hands above the bales to show her I meant no harm. It was the only French I knew, and my pronunciation was awful, but it kept her from fleeing. We'd learned a few French phrases in Basic Training, but I seemed to remember only the ones I'd thought I'd actually need in the field. "Que voulez-vous, monsieur?" she asked cautiously, squinting at me in the darkness. I stepped out from behind the bale and she backed up. I showed her the American uniform I wore, complete with the stars and stripes on my right shoulder and she seemed to relax a little. "I-", I began, knowing she wouldn't understand me anyway. "I'm lost. I need to find my company. I'm a paratrooper. I, uh, we missed our drop zone by a few miles and I need to..." I trailed off, distracted by the beauty of her eyes. They were deep pools of blue that one could drown in, staring happily up at the light beyond. She was looking at me in confusion, and I got the feeling she had no idea what I was talking about anyway. "Je ne vous comprends pas, monsieur," she said softly. "Je ne parle pas anglais." I stood quietly for a moment. Trying to figure out how I could possibly communicate with her. Then I remembered another basic French phrase I'd learned. "Parlez-vous anglais?" I stammered clumsily. "Non, monsieur," she said, smiling for some reason. "Do you have food?" I asked her, making eating motions with my hand and mouth. "Food?" "Nourriture?" she replied. A look of comprehension dawned in her eyes. "Vous avez faim?" "Uh, Oui," I said back. "Je suis... uh, faim." She smiled again at my bungled French and was about to run to the house to fetch me some food, but all of the sudden we heard a vehicle driving up the road. We both froze, listening intently as the engine sound drew closer. Suddenly the girl leaped at me and pushed me back behind the bale I'd been hiding behind a few moments before. "Silence, monsieur," she whispered. "Les Allemands viennent." Les Allemands. I'd heard that term before. I believe it meant the Germans. I fell to a sitting position as the damsel pressed me into the back wall of the barn. She crushed herself against me in an attempt to hide us completely. Our hearts pounded in our chests as the engine approached the farm itself. I enjoyed a distracted moment of bliss, feeling her soft feminine form pressing against me in the dark corner of the barn, but all of the sudden we heard the engine slow and come to a stop with a squeak of rusty brakes. I could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and I'm sure she could feel mine. The engine idled in the road down by the stone wall. I reached up and wrapped my arms around her trembling body, feeling her soft warmth, and she held my hand, cocking her ear in the direction of the German soldiers. "Hallo?" a voice hollered from the road in a thick German accent. "Ist da jemand?" There was no reply. "Hallo!" the man repeated. "Wenn da jemand ist, antworten Sie bitte" In spite of the tension of the moment, I began to get an erection from the feel her nubile young body pressed so firmly against me, and though I was terribly afraid, my penis had a mind of its own. It slowly hardened in my trousers and pressed comfortably into her soft warm backside. She surely felt it, but did not pull away. "Allez d'ici. Allez d'ici," she whimpered softly. "Oh, Laissez-nous, s'il vous pla"t." I held her tightly to me, as we both prayed in our hearts for the Germans to continue on their way. We both trembled and prayed. Though I struggled with all my might to resist arousal in this potentially deadly situation, I suddenly felt the young girl's backside circle gently against my unruly manhood. I have no idea if she had done it intentionally, but it made my awakening lust even more difficult to restrain. Perhaps she had merely been shifting her stance from squatting on one foot, to resting on the other. I tried to convince myself of that. Yes. That was it. It had to be. Just when I had decided it was a mere accident, she did it again, brushing her backside firmly across my bulging erection as we waited for the soldiers in the vehicle outside to move on. Now I began to wonder if it was some vain girlish curiosity on her part, searching out whether her body had really had so dramatic an effect on this handsome young American soldier who she'd found creeping in her barn. Then I shook my head in disgust at my thinking. We were perhaps moments away from being captured, or even shot, and I ought to have been thinking about how to get us out of here if need be. Her cuddly little form was insanely distracting, though. We heard distant conversation in German, and finally the vehicle shifted back into gear and drove away. The damsel and I breathed a sigh of relief. "Merci, mon Dieu" she stammered. "Merci." My erection throbbed involuntarily under the soft cushion of her bum and she finally leapt up to her feet as though she'd been bitten. "Excusez-moi, monsieur," she stammered once again. "Pardonnez-moi pour vous toucher incorrectement avec mon derrière. Je n'ai pas eu l'intention de faire cela à vous." "Indeed," I replied awkwardly, rising to my feet as well. Suddenly an explosion erupted a short way down the road and she leapt into my arms once again, startled by the nearness of sound. Once again her sweet young form pressed into me, from the front this time. I held her like that for a long time, just enjoying the soft feel of her warm and trembling body in my arms while she listened in a panic for more soldiers. Then she started to cry. "Ne partez pas, monsieur. Je suis toute seule. Veuillez m'aider," she cried. "Je ne veux pas être seule." My erection rose to attention once again as the helpless little waif wept in my arms. She did not pull away this time as it pressed rudely into her lower belly. I just held her like that, enjoying the softness of her womanly physique and she told me her story in her own language. I didn't understand it, but I heard her say something about her mother and father, and she mentioned the Germans again. I sort of gathered that the Germans had done something do her parents, leaving her all alone, and she was terribly frightened. My unruly pelvis pressed forward involuntarily once again, mashing my hungering manhood into her feminine softness. Her sobbing ceased at this. She sniffled and looked into my eyes. "Si vous souhaitez avoir pour m'avoir, monsieur, je le permettrai," she said softly with a gleam in her eye. "Je vous prie ne partirai pas." I looked at her in confusion. Why the semi-seductive tone all of the sudden? In answer she reached down and pressed her fingers to the bulge in my trousers. My heart exploded into rapid pounding. "Ah, oui. Vous souhaitez m'avoir, monsieur," she said. Her eyes sparkled, though her face was still somewhat apprehensive. "Je prendrai soin de ce petit ami si vous promettez de rester avec moi." I leaned forward to kiss her, assuming she was propositioning me. In any language, a gentle caress of one's privates is usually an invitation to sex, and though I had to rendezvous with the troops as soon as possible, this was a temptation I could not bring myself to resist. Her eyes closed romantically as our mouths crushed together. She tasted sweet. Her lips parted in the fashion of a true French maiden, and her tongue slithered into my mouth. I ground my pelvis into her once again. She sighed softly. Then I moved to kissing her neck and she tilted her head backward, exposing her throat to me. I kissed and nibbled her sweet pulsing throat, inhaling the natural perfume of her skin. Her hand resumed its caresses on my impatient member and she pushed me backward into a bale of hay. I fell to sitting on it and she began to unbutton my pants, smiling up at me with only feigned certainty of what she was doing. My erection popped out and tapped her on the cheek and she gasped sweetly in surprise. It was larger and faster than she'd expected and her eyes widened. She began to massage it with her soft cool hand. "Il est très grand, monsieur. Je peux voir qu'il m'aime." "Ah, oui, mademoiselle," I sighed, shaking at the feel of her soft little hand sliding up and down my cock. "Ah, très bon." She continued to stroke me in her gentle, inexperienced way, glancing from my penis up to my eyes, and back and forth. Her eyes were gorgeous to begin with, but now with the look of arousal in them they were downright stunning. "Vous aimez cela, monsieur?" she asked excitedly. "Est-ce que je suis le faisant correctement?" "Ah, oui," I said dumbly. Then she released me and stood up. She took my hand and pulled me to my feet. "Venez, monsieur," she smiled nervously, as though not entirely sure what she was getting herself into. "Je veux me coucher avec vous." "Indeed," I said with a grin. She led me to a wooden ladder in the middle of the barn and I followed her up to the loft. She led me over to the front corner of building and lied down in a nest of straw behind another stack of bales. We were pretty much right above the place I'd first hidden and she dropped down perfectly so that a sunbeam streamed down across her face from a broken slat in the wall. I trembled with excitement as I stooped down to kiss her once again. Her hands went to my cock again and she fished it out of my trousers. Then she tugged them down my ass for improved access. My cock sprang up into her soft little hands and she manipulated it more eagerly than before. "Vous resterez avec moi, monsieur?" she asked happily. I nodded not even knowing what she'd said. With her hand rapidly stroking my cock I was only too eager to agree with anything she asked. Things went pretty fast from there. The next thing I knew she bent downward and began planting kisses onto my penis with her soft moist lips, dabbing her affection onto it as though it was a long awaited friend. It throbbed and twitched responsively and I so badly wished for her to take it into her sweet little mouth. She did not though, probably not even realizing such a thing could be done. So I decided to instruct her in it. I lifted her chin, prompting her to look up at me. Then I gently opened her mouth, parting her moist little lips, and pointed down at my erection. She looked at me peculiarly trying to comprehend, and then her eyes widened. "Ah, monsieur le voudrait dans ma bouche?" she said cutely, and then, being the nice little girl she was, she complied happily, wrapping her lips around its head and swirling her tongue around it as she'd done when she kissed my mouth. I nearly died right then the pleasure was so intense. My hands shook and I had to press them to her head to steady them as her hot little mouth worked slippery little pleasures into my pulsing manhood. I threw my head back and sighed with desperate gratitude. "Oh, sweetie! That's so beautiful," I slurred to her like a drunk. It was too. Those French girls must be born with a natural skill in the use of their tongues. I swear it seemed to be everywhere at once. It swirled all over me as her mouth gently squeezed itself around the width of my cock. I could feel the gentle pressure of her teeth as well, but she was not sliding against it. She merely held it in her mouth, pleasuring me so adeptly using only her sweet little tongue. Finally, when I was nearly ready to explode into her delicious little mouth, she pulled off and spoke. "Ceci vous donne le grand plaisir, oui? Monsieur palpite très grand dans ma bouche." She gave such a sweet giggle when she said this that my head swam with lust for her. It was time I penetrated her womanhood as well. I brought her to my mouth a kissed her deeply once again. As we kissed I tilted her backward and she dropped gently into the straw below, surrendering to my leading. "Vous trouverez beaucoup de plaisir à l'intérieur de moi, monsieur," she stammered. "Je suis une vierge." I rose to my knees between her legs and lifted her skirt and apron. It came up to her belly and I saw her sweet little undergarments in the dim light of the barn. I reached forward to touch her as her very first lover. She spread her legs a little more. Her eyes were closed, and her forearm was draped across her brow. She gasped sweetly at the contact. I found her little panties soaked right through with the arousal she had worked herself up into. I gently slid my finger underneath the cloth and felt the soft bristling pubic hair that decorated her outer labia. She was hot and very moist. I would find great pleasure inside her virgin little cunt. I slid my finger between her inner labia and she wriggled a little bit under my delicate touch. Another soft giggle escaped her, which faded into a sensuous moan as I brushed by her clitoris with the side of my knuckle. I explored her sex organs for a few moments, watching her reactions and getting more and more aroused myself as each minute passed. I'm not sure why she was allowing me into the trove of her feminine virtue, not only allowing me but seemingly offering them up freely to my ardent lust. I'm not sure why, but I was more than happy to take advantage of the offer. I could tell she was very nervous having a man she'd only met 20 minutes ago suddenly delving into her virginal secrets, but her excited curiosity and the preliminary pleasures I was giving her compelled her onward into the life-changing experience she was about to have. "Ah, monsieur," she whimpered sweetly, trembling on the floor before me. "Cela me donne tellement le plaisir. Votre contact est gentil." Finally I began dragging her little undergarments down, and she lifted her hips permissively. Soon I had her delicate young vulva exposed completely before me and I hovered over her like a conquering warrior, ready to make the kill. "Me lécherez-vous là, la même manière que je vous ai embrassé?" she panted excitedly. "Huh?" I asked in confusion. So she translated the request into a universal sign language of love, placing her finger to her tongue, pointing it at me, and then pointing to her sweet female genitalia. I nodded with dawning comprehension and she smiled. Then I went down on her. I confess I am not as adept with my tongue as she was, but being her first lover, she was non-the-wiser. She mewled luxuriously under my stimulation, taking care to remain relatively silent, and gyrated her pelvis sensously against my mouth, greedily harvesting sweet delights from my clumsy cunnilingus. I found my way around her privates with my own instincts, reacting attentitively to her every sound and motion. Though she was a mere maid, she had the sexual insticts of a fully mature woman and she responded beautifully to my erotic stimulation. It was this beauty that motivated me. If she reacted beautifully to a certain motion I made with my tongue, I continued that motion, and intensified it. It worked wonderfully. "Ah, monsieur. Je meurs de ce plaisir," she stammered. And then she climaxed. Her body seized up with a great internal tension that gripped her entire being. Her sweet little ass lifted off the floor, pressing her churning pelvis into my mouth. She did not make a sound, save a few shocked little gasps, until the waves of ecstasy had finally passed over her. Then she whimpered passionately, squirming her legs about in the straw with post-orgasmic trembling, and relaxed her body back into a satisfied repose. I allowed her to lay there for a moment to recover. She had nearly brought me off with her sweet whipping tongue a while before, and I wanted to recover completely from that as well before I fucked her. The last thing I wanted was for it to be all over in one or two strokes, when we could potentially wallow in the pleasures of love making all afternoon. Somewhere out there my comrades were fighting, and probably dying. The guns of war in the distance was a constant reminder. I did not care, however. If I was with them I would probably be killed as well. Instead I was with this lovely young girl about to make love. Though I was betraying countrymen and my duty as a soldier I was happy right where I was. At the moment the heat eminating from her sweet and honeyed vagina was engulfing my entire universe with the need to penetrate her warm wet and deliciously squeezing womanhood. My body shook with the unquenchable desire to fuck this sweet and willing young thing. I would worry about the consequences later. "Je suis prête à être entrée maintenant, monsieur," she told me. "Soyez seulement doux je prie de vous." This was an invitation to begin the fuck. I could tell by the way she sweetly spread her legs out before me, offering me full access to her female delights. I dropped myself down on top of her and the underside of my cock pressed into her pubic bone. I reached down with trembling hands and positioned my erection at the entrance of her lubricious little vagina. Its heat called me forth. She closed her eyes, closing and unclosing her thighs gently against my hips as she waited anxiously for the penetration. I pressed forward with my hips and it slid away, up through her slipery labial crevice, across her clit, and onto her belly. "Ooh. Vous vous êtes échappés, Monsieur," she giggled nervously. "Peut-être je suis trop serré pour votre entrée." We tried again. She reached down this time and guided me more accurately into her slippery little opening, and I pressed forward more gently this time. It strained to receive me, spreading widely to accommodate my intrusion and suddenly the head of it was inside her. We smiled and trembled together at this. Our hearts pounded in the excitement of such intimate connection and we just stared into each other's eyes as I continued gently forward. I kissed her again, and her eyes closed. "Allez plus profond, Monsieur. Il se sent beau." It felt so nice. Every instinct inside me wanted to be buried completely and deliciously inside her, and I got a sense that she felt the same way. Her hands moved to my naked ass and she pressed me deeper inside her. I sank slowly inward, enjoying every delicious inch of her clenching vagina, until suddenly I met her maidenhead. I pressed against it and she cringed in pain. Her thighs closed involuntarily against me for a moment, but as I withdrew a little she relaxed once again. We both panted in the cool morning air. "Ceci doit être cassé," she whispered hotly into my ear. "Je veux que vous remplissiez mon petit vagin complètement." She spread her thighs courageously once again, rendering herself completely vulnerable to me, surrendering to my imminent sexual conquest. I drew back to the very opening of her anxiously fluttering vagina and thrust forward violently all at once, tearing through to the very bottom of her. She bit into my shoulder, releasing a muffled squeal of agony into my flesh, and drawing blood from me as I'd drawn from her. I still have a slight scar there to this day. It was agony and ecstasy at the same time and I cried out softly as well. I was sheathed to the very bottom of her, nevertheless, and we both lay there trembling in each other arms as I basked in the sweet sensations of her clamping and swirling pelvis. Though it was painful, her hymen had to be torn if we were to enjoy our love making to the fullest. It would be only pleasurable from here on in. A moment of erotically charged silence passed. "Il y a un homme à l'intérieur de moi," she mused in a shaky little whisper. "Bien qu'il blesse, il y a également plaisir." Then she began gyrating beneath me, exploring the sensations of motion around my deeply embedded cock. It felt deliriously wonderful to me, though she was only slightly enjoying it. I could not help but reciprocate the sweet little motions she was making. The pleasures her body offered were driving me crazy with the need to release my orgasm, yet I fought it off, choosing rather to wallow lubriciously in the simple ecstasy of a slow and loving fuck with this marvelous young girl. I thrust forward spasmodically at one point, and she flinched defensively against me. So I eased off into gently sliding it in and out of her, warming her up to the subtly increasing pleasures of the motions. Eventually she did come around to a new appreciation of the carnal intimacy we shared. Naked, bare-faced lust eventually unmasked itself to her, and she slowly increased the intensity of her own movements beneath me, which I took as permission to increase mine. We were brought to a higher level of pleasure with the longer and quicker strokes I made. I had to stop several times in the agony of resistance as my impatient orgasm was coaxed persistently forward by her lusciously squeezing womanhood. It was a great struggle, because even when I stopped she did not. Her eagerness grew. Her lust increased from restrained fear of pain, to a hungry pursuit of the pleasure that seemed to be overwhelming the discomfort she felt. She wanted the fuck now, and did not realize she would end it too soon if she was overly zealous. I touched my fingers to her lips in a hushing, 'calm down' kind of gesture and she obeyed in confusion, not understanding why I wouldn't want the pleasure to increase more and more. She did not understand the male orgasm yet, and wanted only to pleasure me, and herself more than words could express. "Ayez I fait quelque chose incorrectement, Monsieur," she inquired innocently. "Quel est le problème?" I shook my head no at her insecurity, trying to communicate that I felt nothing but glorious pleasure, and that I only wanted to prolong it. "Just go slowly," I pleaded with her. "Slowly." "Slow-lee?" she asked in a gorgeous little French accent. She churning her delicious little cunt around on my cock more carefully and gently and I nodded my head in approval. She was a great lover, responsive and accommodating in spite of the language barrier. A woman's natural instincts will carrier her much farther than words ever could. My encounter with this girl proved that to me forever. I resumed my gentle thrusting, and she resumed the dizzying gyrations of her lower body, massaging my squirming cock inside her slippery liquid squeeze. I pressed my cheek against hers, kissing at her neck and ears, and she clutched my body in a trembling embrace that, as sweet as it was, could not match the intimacy of our pelvic connection. I thrust deeper inside her, struggling to delve into her very soul if possible, driven forward by love's need to break through every possible barrier that separates a man and a woman from knowing each other completely. She responded similarly, her own sexual nature inciting animated pelvic rotations that sought to gather me into the very bottom of her. She clung helplessly to me as I stretched her womanhood across my strong and steady thrusts. Suddenly she froze beneath me. Her eyes widened in horror. I stopped completely, staring into her panicked eyes with fear of my own. Her cunt gripped me as though in a vice as I waited to for her to let me know what was the matter. I throbbed impatiently inside her. "M... Möglicherweise ist niemand hier," somebody said from outside. The girl and I held our breath, our hearts pounding against one another's flesh. I could feel her pulse, the strong beating of her heart in the muscles of her vagina. She slowly lifted a finger to her lips. I didn't need to be shushed though. I'd left my gun down behind the bales in the corner underneath us. I had my knife with me, but what good was that? The Germans outside approached the barn, seeing the door open. "Hallo?" one called out. "Ist jemand dort?" Their voices sounded tense, as though on the alert for any Allies that might be in the area. It was a war zone after all. The girl's hands squeezed me gently. She was suddenly grateful to have me with her. What would these men have done to a lone teen aged girl if they'd found her all by herself? Probably the same thing I was doing, except with a lot more force, and a lot less willingness on her part. The men stepped into the barn. As near as I could tell there were two of them. I lay up in the hay loft between this maiden's well-spread thighs with my pants around my knees, and my cock buried to the hilt in her violently spasming cunt. It was pleasure and horror at the same time. If they discovered us I would be shot and she would be ravaged over and over again with my brains all over her face, and then probably killed as well. We breathed carefully, deadly silent, her chest bulging upward into mine with each strained inhalation. Her naked thighs slid silently against mine, wet with the moisture of our delicious fuck, and she placed her feet carefully back onto the floor without making a sound. The motion cause me to slip a little inside her sending a spasm of unwelcome pleasure through us. She froze again. "Zigarette?" one German asked another. "Selbstverständlich," the other replied. We heard the metallic flick of a lighter and the swift scrape of the flint and the cigarettes sparked to life. The two smoked together in the doorway, chatting casually for a few minutes while the damsel and I held our position up in the loft. Her cunt kept on squeezing me inside her from her anxiety and I throbbed back involuntarily each time. The air was charged with tension. I suppose the two of them finished what they were talking about. They ended the conversation with a laugh and crushed out their cigarettes under their boots. "Lassen Sie uns gehend erhalten," one fellow said to the other. "Wir haben einige Meilen, zum vor Abendessen zu gehen." "Ja," the other agreed. "Ich bin bereits hungrig." I heard the metallic rattle of their MP40s as they readied them once again, probably slinging them down from their shoulder, and their voices faded off into the afternoon breeze as they walked away. We waited a few more minutes, listening carefully to be sure they were really gone and finally we both breathed a sigh of relief. She began to speak, but I cut her off immediately, slamming forward into her cunt with all my pent-up lust. Whatever she'd started to say was cut off by a mewl in ecstasy as my cock rammed into the deepest parts of her all at once. I pulled out without pausing and rammed forward again. She gasped again and clutched at me in helpless surrender as I battered her virginal cunt in a desperate need to ejaculate. The passionate force of my arousal quickly awakened similar drives in her and she caught on to the intensity of my sexual urgency, reciprocating my thrusts with animalistic bucking that almost unsheathed me a few times. I hung on though, riding her like a struggling animal as she fought to match my male virility with her energetic young female body. We grunted and gasped quietly as we sprinted toward the great erotic crescendo. I don't know which of us came first. It didn't really matter I suppose. We both climaxed together in the end and she milked delicious ecstasy from my copiously spewing member. I flooded her insides with my seed as we rode through the climax together, and soon we collapsed into that post-orgasmic death of sweaty panting and satisfaction that only well-fucked lovers know. I remained inside her for a long time while we kissed and cuddled with all the affection of long-time lovers. Eventually we began fucking again without even withdrawing. She began her sensuous pelvic motions beneath me again and I couldn't resist galloping home to a second deliciously satisfying orgasm. She responded as enthusiastically as the first time and we worked ourselves into a sexy sweat in the heat of the loft. It was noon by the time we finished. Finally I withdrew from her tired little vagina and we discovered a copious discharge of blood and semen oozing out of her. She dabbed it up as best as she could with her apron and we dressed ourselves, picking straw out of our clothes and hair, trying our best to compose ourselves. Then we headed down the ladder and turned to head out of the barn. But there was a German soldier standing in the doorway. He had his gun pointing in our direction and he blew a puff of cigarette smoke from the corner of his mouth, squinting one eye at us as he looked the damsel up and down. For a moment I was certain I was about to breathe my last breath. Surely he would kill me and have his way with the girl. We both stood there like a frightened does. My gun was on the other side of the hay bales, but I still had my knife tucked into my belt loop. Was haben Sie hier dinnen getan?" he chuckled dryly. "Das muß ein glücklicher Tag für mich sein. Solch ein hübsches Mädchen und ein Amerikaner ohne Gewehr." He cocked his gun and lifted it to his shoulder, pointed directly at me. I took what I thought would be my last breath. My stomach clamped with fear. Suddenly the girl reached up and flipped the front of her dress down, exposing her ample bosom to the lustful eyes of the soldier. He lowered his gun part way and stared at her with a delighted gleam in her eye. He started to speak: "Schöne Brüste, junge Dame. Aber Sie müssen warten, bis ich diesen Mann getötet habe-" He never completed the sentence however. In a flash I whipped my knife out of its sheath and flung it at his face. The blade sunk into his eye, ripping through his brain to the very hilt and he stumbled backward in shock. Suddenly a burst of gun fire erupted from his weapon, spraying bullets through the barn in a wide arc, from the floor to the ceiling. I instinctively dove for cover, but the girl just stood there, and then slowly crumpled to the floor. The German collapsed onto his back jerking and writhing as his brain tried in vain to adjust to the cold metal that had run through his cerebral cortex. I jumped up and snatched his gun from him, spun it around and emptied the entire clip into his face. Blood and brains sprayed upward in a miniature fountain of gore as the gun bored a six inch wide hole into his head where his face used to be. Finally the last bullet was fired and the gun clicked impotently in my hands. Still filled with a maniacal rage I swung it in a wide circle over my head and smashed what was left of his skull to mush. I went to swing again but the weapon slipped from my grasp, covered now with the gore of the man's grizzly mutilation. I stood there panting for what seemed like a long time. Finally I turned to check on the girl. There was blood on the front of her dress. "Oh, no..." I stammered. She was shot. I stooped down to check her pulse and found it as strong as ever. I felt around the area of the wound and found it to be located right above her crotch. Was she shot in the crotch? A lump swelled in my throat. Nausea filled my insides, and I fought to clear my head of panic. Just then her eyes fluttered open. She felt my hand on her crotch and pushed it away in startled annoyance. "Lie still," I said. "You're wounded." She looked down at the blood on her crotch, and then up at me, and then she laughed. "What's so funny?" I asked dumbly. She lifted her blood stained dress and showed me her exposed privates. They were still leaking blood from the sexual wounding I'd given her. It had soaked right through her dress as she descended the ladder. Then she pointed at my crotch. "C'était vous qui m'a blessée, Monsieur, pas lui," she smiled. I hugged her, trembling with relief that she was not hurt. "I have to take care of you," I sighed. "You'll never survive out here by yourself. Come away with me and I'll see you safely to America. You can be my wife." She looked at me, not understanding a word I said, but sensing adoration and deep concern in the tone. She nodded, smiling sweetly. Then we kissed once again. So we ran to the house, washed up, and I got a change of clothes from her father's wardrobe. I went back out to the barn and placed my uniform on the dead, faceless soldier. I even hung my dog-tags around his neck. I placed my gun beside him as well. Then I took all of his personal effects, tied them up in a bundle and dropped them down the well with a rock inside. He would never be heard from again, and neither would I. The girl gathered her own belongings and bundled them into a cloth sack. We took some bread and wine as well and left her little farm for good. We made our way north, creeping carefully over the hostile countryside and after a day's journey we camped out for the night in an isolated copse of trees. We made love again quietly under the stars, beginning with an exchange of oral sex once again, and then a slow sweet fuck that left us exhausted and sleeping in each other arms. I eventually figured out her name that night as well. She was Annabelle Mouiller. We awoke before dawn the next day and resumed our journey, staying away from the main roads and towns along the way. Finally late in that evening we met up with a group of American soldiers. They asked us where we were from but I pretended to be deaf, not wanting to be busted for going AWOL. It was better for me to be thought of as KIA if I wanted to flee back to America with Annabelle. So I assumed a new identity as Annabelle's husband who was deafened in a bombing raid. Annabelle quickly caught on to my lie and went along with it. She spoke French very loudly into my ear and I nodded. The soldiers escorted us to an allied camp and we waited to board a ship back to England the next morning. From there we headed home to America. It turned out my company won that battle without me. I overheard two officers talking about it on the way back to New York. There were many casualties however, and one of them might have been me if I'd made it there in time. This chilling notion helped to ease my conscience about defecting. As I got to know Annabelle more and more, day by day I eventually began to feel like I'd done the right thing. Having her loving body to comfort me on the cold lonely nights at sea helped a lot too. By the time we arrived in New York harbor we were deeply in love. Eventually someone found the body I'd left my dog tags on and wrote home to my mother about it. She pretended to cry and told the messenger I'd done my country a great service. I was sitting in the other room, however, with my lovely young wife and our new daughter. That was over 58 years ago now. We have lived to see our children's children. Annabelle speaks fluent English, with only a slight accent. To this day we still talk about that day in the barn and she always smiles, telling me what a fantastic lover I was. Then she takes me in her arms and reassures me that I'd done the right thing in courageously saving her life the way I had, abandoning the honor of my uniform in favor of caring of her. I always answer in kind, telling her she's been worth it everyday. We've lived happily ever after. ------- The End ------- Posted: 2002-10-03 ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------