("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text Archive name: war1944.txt (MF, rom, dream) Authors name: Anonymous Author (none provided) Story title : War is Hell 1944 -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2003. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- War is Hell 1944 (MF, rom, dream) by Anonymous Author (c) 2000 *** My regiment had fought and died those days in early July, 1944. Yet when we finally entered Caen, tired half- starved people began to cheer. Not only that, a few brazen and obviously relieved civilians ventured forth and embraced and gave us hastily picked flowers. Many civilians were weeping, more were dazed from the fury of the fighting. I felt very inadequate, most of the rubble that was left of the city, had been massed bombed only the night before by the Allied Airforce. The few men under my command gave their share of cigarettes and rations of food to the happy people. One young lad even handed me the head off a homemade doll, I hadn't the heart to return it. Our orders had come early that morning of the 9th, the Maquis, the French Resistance were leading us to the objective. The city offices. It was called "Operation Goodwood", or by us Canadians, "Operation Atlantic". The "Operation" seemed a very fancy word, in my little corner of the battle, I was given objectives. And everyone I fought very hard for, we took. Yet as I walked through the rubble of the streets, looking upon the thousands of refugees and huddled persons in dark corners and under debris. My heart went out to them, was all this destruction worth the lives that was taken. Sure the allies had dropped leaflets to warn the city that it was about to be bombed, but even as I walk down the streets and across mounds that were once buildings, I often saw ugly grey bloated bodies. Once we passed an emergency hospital, set up in a monks' refectory, bodies were pilled outside it with little dignity, inside the dim and chaotic interior could just be made out. I was in hell! Thankfully, the distance took little time. I stood behind a corner of a windowless building and followed the pointing finger of the Maquis guide. High in up in the building could just be seen the shadow of crouched figure, a barrel sticking out the door. A sniper! And no doubt, not alone. Unfortunately, most of the Division was sent to the suburbs were large pockets of German resistance held on. The average, sane infantryman hated door-to-door fighting. It was a dangerous, hellious type of fighting. So many obstacles, and around every corner could be a sniper or a company of men just waiting to kill. Damn I wished we had the armor that was promised us by the Brigade Commander. I had five men left in my section, and sent two around to the right flank. I ordered two to wait and give cover fire as needed, along with our resistance friend who was more than happy with the prospect of killing Germans with his beat up Sten gun. Myself and Corporal Dickson would enter the building. As soon as the two of us began to dart across the clearing I knew it was a mistake. I felt then heard the shots only when we were half way through the yard. I was grazed by two bullets, yet finally shot through the front door with barely a scratch. Looking behind me, I saw Corporal Dickson laying upon the cobblestones, dead. My men were returning fire, yet I held little faith in that. I was alone, with an objective ahead of me. Yet a large part of me wanted to curl up into a ball and hide away. Thankfully my duty and the job held my sanity together. Through several messy rooms did I go. Moving double time, I quickly found a stair going up. That was when I got lost! The rooms became darker, the rooms tidier, yet still unclean. My body was exhausted, with my kit strapped to my back and the cumbersome rifle in my hands I soon had too stop to catch my breath. Somewhere above me someone was still firing. I had to get the sniper, it was either him or me. As I stood catching my breath, I suddenly heard a couple of voices, speaking German, I caught only a word here and their, "mischbrot", "wurstchen", "kase". If I remember correctly, they were talking about food. Yet footsteps were coming closer. Frantically, I quickly ran into the suite of rooms I was standing next to. I found a locked door and effortlessly smashed through it. I stood facing the door I just came through, the broken lock hanging limply. I followed the sound of the voices as they went passed the place I had been standing. I heard them going up, their jackboots making harsh noises against the tile and wooden floors. Taking a breath I was about to continue with my assignment. Then I heard something, more of a whimper. I spun around, my rife pointing towards the sound. I saw nothing but a large desk and several chairs and bookcases. But something had to be there! Slowly with soft step, I came around the edge of the desk. My rifle pointing towards the hole under and behind the desk, the only logical place for a person to be. I hoped it was just a dog, or perhaps another type of animal that had crawled into that small hole. Yet I saw it! A shape! A huddled, dirty woman lay in the fetal position, her face hidden from me. What the hell was I to do? I bent down my face coming closer to the desk opening. She was shivering, perhaps in the damp morning air, or from fear. The woman only wore a thin summer dress and heels. What was she doing here? With a gentle hand I placed my palm upon her arm hoping I could calm her. Here was a human being, someone that had been tormented by the German occupation and by the Allied air strikes, how did I imagine I could calm her. I was cover in combat gear, not a very calming sight I'm sure. I felt her warm soft skin and she stopped shivering. "Mlle, are you all right?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. I felt sick, I did not want to be there in that dirty room, with enemies only a few feet away, while I tried to comfort a young lady. She spoke one word before looking up, "ministre?" I saw her face slowly look out from behind the crock of her arm. I saw her pretty round face, large scared eyes, full lips, small nose. She was very pretty. The woman asked me a question, and I could not understand a word. So I improvised, and told her my name, Caesar, or rather my nickname. She told me hers, yet I could not pronounce the French version so I shortened it to Sam. Sam took her hands and arms from her face, sitting up as much as that large desk allowed. Then she smiled at me! So you may ask? Well, after the deaths of friends and the agony of victory, it was almost too much. I saw her looking at my trouble faced, and she began to cry. No I didn't cry, but I still felt the tears running down my cheeks. One of her hands reached out daintily and wiped the tear from my face. I sat upon the floor next to the opening of the desk, she knelt next to me. With a motherly compassion, she bent forward and kissed my wet cheek, her other hand holding my face steady. God, I was confused, was I not supposed to be the victor, the knight in shining armor? Yet here was this tiny attractive woman who was stronger than I, comforting me. Upon the rest of my emotions I felt shame. Sam placed her cheek next to mine, holding me. When I finally got hold of myself, I realized she held me in a death grip. She was not going to let go. I turned my face towards her, our eyes only six inches apart. "Please Mlle, I have to go. You must understand, people are depending on me!" She closed her eyes and kissed me. This time upon the lips, very softly and with great amount of emotion. It was too much upon my trouble soul, and I returned the unknown woman's kiss. Sam was patient with my hungry sadness. I forced her lips open with my own. My tongue sliding into her mouth, finally coming in contact with hers. My hand grasped her flimsy dress and I tore the remaining buttons off the front, exposing her undergarments. I was hungry for passion, for love. Yet for several years all I had known was pain and death. The softness of a woman was almost forgotten upon me, certainly how to touch a lady was alien was. I stopped, thankfully before I had begun to rape her, my mind finally taking control of my emotions. Sam surprised me, she looked me straight in the eye with even more emotion and compassion. She took her hands off me and began to disrobe. Off came the ripped dress, her shoulders exposed. It hung about its cord around her waist. Then she reached behind her and undid the clasp for her bra, the undergarment fell to the floor next to both of us. Sam knelt, her back straight, looking right at me. I unashamed, looked at her exposed skin. I fell for that unknown French woman, I could see the imperfections of her flesh, but desired all. She was a beautiful woman who had lived through years of hell, why did she offer me this gift? I have never known. Slowly she grasped my free hand and brought it to her chest, my large palm cupping the firm roundness of her breast. Her nipple began to harden under my rough hand, reminding me of the of love I had lost because of this war. I was almost ran out of their at that moment, yet only her eyes held me in place. She withdrew her hand from mine, and I felt her fumble with the front of my clothing. My webbing was undone, then the buttons of my trousers and lower jacket. I was conscious of my unwashed body, and almost began to laugh. To be worried about such a thing sitting here in this ransacked building with Germans a floor above me, and both of our bodies had not seen a bath for many a week. I realized, finally, that the simple pleasures of the flesh was not the reason that Sam was doing this. Perhaps, like me, she needed to feel the closeness of another human, even with the stench of war covering us. A warm small hand held my hardness, forced it passed my boxer shorts to point up out of my disheveled clothing. I don't remember a moment when I had been more excited, or felt closer to any person in my life. With anxious and deliberate movements she knelt up then swung a knee and leg over my lap. Sam moved her hanging skirt from between her legs and reached up with one hand to move her undergarments aside. Her other hand held my shoulder steadying herself, while her eyes never left mine. During that time, I had placed both hands upon her full breasts. I marveled in the warm softness of woman, and wanted more. Yet this time I was patient. Sam sighed very loudly, just as I felt her warm wetness envelope me. She sat upon my lap, locked together by more than sex. She cupped her breasts in her hands, pointing that perfect areola towards my salivating lips. I tasted her skin, reviling in the hardness beneath my tongue. I alternated between the globes, almost not noticing her slow movements up and down upon my shaft. Time went slowly, our movements more urgent. My lips had left her breasts and found her hungry mouth. Our tongues danced to the beat of our joining. I marveled at her wetness, wanted to see it, yet her skirt hid everything. The moisture contained there was making erotic wet noises. She began to moan deep down in her throat and I forced my tongue into her mouth to silence her in the most polite way I knew how. She accepted my gift. Before I realized what was going on, Sam froze, with only the unknown joined portions quivering and spasming delightfully upon me. I spent a great tribute to this unknown woman, flooding her with my seed. She squealed with pleasure, feeling the warm liquid hit deep inside her, filling her up. Her hips wiggled wonderfully, bringing a groan from my lips. It was over. Sam lay over me, spent as I. Slowly the sounds that surrounded us began to reach me. I could hear the sounds of treads, the tanks that had been promised to my section. I had to leave this woman, yet that was the hardest thing I had yet to do in my short years. I gently moved her off me, and told her to stay under the desk. When it was over I would return, what then, I don't know? I stood ready, my soul finally cured of its afflictions. Yet again, it almost broke. The look in her eyes as I was only steps away from the door to this room was enough to fill my heart with foreboding. I must do my duty, if not for my commanders then for her. I would return! Swiftly without looking back I left her, soon finding the stairs going up. Silently I reached the top, through the rubble I saw five Germans smoking and laughing. One was on watch looking out the large window. I could not understand what they said, yet I didn't care. I blamed them for causing Sam her pain, I wanted to hurt them. Taking careful aim, I shot two before the others even reacted. My position upon the stair, looking over the edge of the floor, gave me good cover. And I was able to wound another soldier. Then the wall behind the remaining Germans blew wards, killing them instantly and showering me with debris. One hit me very hard and I as knocked senseless. Confusion was what I awoke to, around me a sea of brown and green uniforms. A doctor knelt next to my prone body, examining my head wound. "A scratch really, though head wounds do bleed a lot." He quickly left me to attend another fallen comrade. In only hours I was again with my section, as they sat with the tank crew in front of that building I knew so well. With barely a glance at my men I entered the cleared building, finding nothing. Sam was gone! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of the hands of children. They should be outside playing in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Kristen's collection - Directory 23