The Luger felt cold and heavy in Anne-Marie's small hand. She hated guns, violence, confrontation, and was by nature timid and reserved. Under normal circumstances she would be home now, or maybe out with Polly at the girl's club, in the underground. I wish I was anywhere but here, she thought. Circumstances were far from normal, for this was Paris in 1943 and Anne-Marie had joined her countrymen in resisting the German invaders. She was not at all what one would assume a member of the Resistance should look like. At barely five feet tall and one hundred pounds she was had the trim figure of a dancer. Hazel eyes gazed out of a delicately featured face and were framed by a mass of black locks. Her slim hips, small chest, and youthful looks allowed her to pass herself off as a schoolgirl, even though she was almost twenty-four.
She saw the shadowy figures of Jean Claude and Pierre flit up the darkened street and gripped the gun tightly. She was the lookout tonight, standing in a darkened doorway she blended into the shadows. She would fire a warning shot and then escape down the street if she saw any Germans coming. The two men took up stations outside Madam Garnet's whorehouse and waited as a silent rain began to fall.
The door opened and the music of a piano drifted softly down the street along with the musical sound of women laughing. A few moments later two men in black uniforms started down the stairs. The quiet of the Paris night was shattered by gunfire, as the two freedom fighters sprayed bullets at the men on the stairway. The two SS officers went down, but a horrible sound quickly followed. It was a tearing sound, like a fine dress being ripped in half, but infinitely more frightening. Both freedom fighters turned and fled, screaming for her to run as bullets whined down the darkened street. Anne-Marie knew that sound and cringed, it was a German machine gun.
Anne-Marie bolted, fleeing as fast as her lithe legs would carry her through the dark Paris night. She dodged down the darkened streets, quickly becoming lost in the maze of apartments. She could hear the boots of pursuing soldiers and a shouted order in German to halt. When she kept running a shot rang out, followed by more. Soon a hail of bullets whined and ricocheted after her. She prayed as she ran.
She heard an engine then, it may have been just a passing car but her fear made it sound like a tank and she dared not look back. A stairway beckoned and she ran up it, the door at the top was closing and she threw herself against it, forcing her way in, slamming the door and drawing the bolt.
"Quite an entrance child, what do you do for an encore?" a cultured voice behind her questioned.
Anne-Marie whirled and faced the speaker. She was a tall, statuesque woman in her late forties, with blonde hair, blue eyes and creamy skin. Her long legs were concealed by the maroon skirt she wore, revealing only her button up boots and her matronly bust strained against the fabric of a white silk blouse, this was clasped at the neck with a single star shaped pendant. She had a damp umbrella in her hand, and a very stylish broad brimmed hat. Anne-Marie recognized her at once, Countess Von Shoenstoffen, wife to the SS garrison commander.
Anne-Marie immediately produced the Luger and motioned for the women to be silent by placing her finger over her lips. If the gun, or the intrusion frightened the tall blonde in the least she didn't show it. Feet pounded past on the street outside and orders were shouted in German, Anne-Marie held her breath, but no one knocked on the door.
"It seems you plan to stay a while, you might as well make yourself comfortable," the blonde woman said. Her French was flawless, tainted only by a very slight German accent.
Anne-Marie looked at the woman in surprise. Their eyes locked and as they stared at each other she thought she saw emotion in the deep blue eyes. Sardonic humor, pity, compassion and something else, something more disturbing than the woman's fearlessness, hunger. Something passed between them, something intangible but very real and Anne-Marie knew the rumors she had heard were true. She flushed deeply, but the gun in her hand never wavered.
When the silence stretched out to minutes the older woman spoke again, "Are we going to stand here in the foyer all night? The drawing room is much more comfortable, and intimate,"
Anne-Marie still couldn't speak, those knowing blue eyes unnerved her. She had been so careful, so discreet, but in that one glance this strange woman knew her secret. She could hear the indistinct sounds of men in the streets, the soldiers had not given up, and she knew she was in grave danger, but she could not keep her eyes off the woman's chest.
"At least tell me your name?" the Countess asked after another long silence. Anne-Marie's eyes lifted from the woman's large bosom to her face. Their eyes locked again and she felt herself shiver.
"Anne-Marie," she whispered.
"That's a lovely name. My name is Elkie. Now that we are more or less formally introduced let's go to the parlor, I am not accustomed to receiving guests in my hallway, and you are shivering," she said in an imperious manner.
Ignoring the gun, she turned gracefully and walked through an opening off the hallway, depositing her umbrella in a beautiful guilt stand as she passed. Anne-Marie could do nothing to stop her, not even order her to stop, her mouth was to dry to speak.
Carefully, Anne-Marie walked down the hall and peeked into the room. The sitting room was beautifully appointed. It was decorated in antique furniture, mostly in the German mode, tastefully decked out in French laces and silks. Elkie was pouring two glasses of wine from a crystal decanter as if it were not out of the ordinary to have a woman with a gun burst into her home. She took a goblet in each hand and sat on the settee motioning for Anne-Marie to join her. Despite her fear Anne-Marie did as she was bidden, she felt strange, hot and tingly and when she recognized what she was feeling she blushed again. Once the Frenchwoman was seated at the far end of the settee and had a goblet of wine in her hand the German smiled. "This is much nicer than the hallway, wouldn't you agree child?"
"Yes, it is," Anne-Marie grudgingly admitted. She was still holding the gun, she was a member of the Resistance, she should have been in control of this situation, but she knew she wasn't, and she felt Elkie knew it too.
They sipped their wine in silence. Elkie drank hers with obvious relish and her eyes roamed lustfully up and down Anne-Marie's petite frame. Anne-Marie sipped hers mechanically, while her ears strained to catch any noise from out on the street. Elkie finished her wine and put the empty goblet on the table next to her. Her eyes returned to the smaller woman and she gave her that hungry stare and scooted closer. Anne-Marie's eyes were glued to Elkie's breasts now, they were so full, so large, they seemed ready to bust out of the tightly stretched silk top at any moment.
Why did she have to look like that? Anne-Marie thought. She had never been able to resist such women; large women with matronly figures and large busts were her downfall, ever since Malena. Especially when they took charge in that motherly sort of way, she had no resistance at all then. With her life threatened sex should have been the last thing on her mind, but the fear and the adrenalin of her earlier flight only seemed to add to the fire in her loins that this woman was provoking with those hungry glances.
"There, there, ma petite, it will be all right. Sleeping with the garrison commander infers certain privileges, one of which is privacy. You are perfectly safe here," she said in a soothing tone. Her hand slipped past the gun and patted Anne-Marie's knee. A jolt of pleasure shocked her system from this simple contact.
Elkie did not remove her hand but gently squeezed and Anne-Marie felt her will to resist drowning in her need. She had been celibate since the night Paris fell. Working with the resistance was a constant rush of adrenalin, always afraid, always tense. It left her wrung out most nights and the fear of informers was so prevalent she dared not frequent the few places she knew where she might meet other women. Her regular lover had fled to Nice and most of her friends had gone underground, leaving her with no outlet save hurried masturbation on those rare nights where she could find the energy and wasn't out helping her countrymen hinder the invaders.
Anne-Marie felt Elkie's other hand on the gun now, tugging it from her suddenly weak grip. She couldn't resist. Oh why does she have to look like that? she thought.
Elkie placed the gun on the table next to her empty wine goblet then turned her full attention to Anne-Marie. She continued to gently squeeze her knee, there was nothing overtly sexual in the caress, but Anne's thin dress did nothing to lessen the contact and her mind was quickly running away with her. She could feel the heat of the older woman's hand and the fire it was producing between her legs was becoming impossible to ignore.
A sudden pounding on the door sent a frenzied panic through her. She tried to reach past the larger woman for her gun, but the big blonde snatched it up. Captured! Caught like a child because I can't control my own body, she thought bitterly. Anne-Marie remembered the small capsule in her shoe. Death was far preferable to what the Germans would do to her.
Elkie held the gun on her and placed her finger over her lips. She then did something that stunned Anne-Marie. She tossed the gun into the Frenchwoman's lap and went to the door. The frightened Frenchwoman grabbed up her pistol, but the front door was already opening and she was trapped in the parlor. Anne-Marie had grown up in the Alsace-Lorraine and so spoke German, not well, but well enough to understand the exchange going on at the door.
"I am sorry to disturb you Frauline, but there is a dangerous partisan on the loose, I am afraid we must search your apartments,"
"Do you know who I am?" Elkie's voice replied, cool, unruffled, totally without fear or respect.
"Yes, Frau Shoenstoffen, I am aware of your identity,"
"Then you know that there is no possibility a partisan has taken refuge in my home, there is no one here save myself and my maid,"
"That may be, but it is still my duty to search," the officer replied stubbornly.
"Very well Herr Oberst, but do not think my husband will not hear of this indignity. I shudder to think what he will do when he learns that you and your men barged into his home, traipsing mud on the floors and treating me like a common criminal. I can assure you that Herr Ribbentrop will also hear of it. I hope you have packed warmly, I hear it is very cold on the Eastern Front,"
"I am most sorry Frau Shoenstoffen, I lost two men to these animals and my emotions have mastered my reason, there is of course no reason to search your home, and I beg your pardon,"
"It is understandable Herr Oberst, good hunting,"
His reply was cut off by the door firmly closing. Elkie breezed back into the parlor as if nothing had happened. She poured herself more wine and returned to the settee, seemingly as unconcerned as she would have if the man at the door had been a delivery boy with the wrong address.
"Why did you do that?" Anne-Marie asked, her voice sounded small and disbelieving in her own ears.
When Elkie replied the words were halting, hesitant, as if she were articulating deeply held beliefs for the first time and struggling for the right words. "I was born to privilege, even the depression and disintegration of the Weimar government did not impose any hardship upon me. Like many Germans, I was thrilled when we tossed off the shackles of Versailles and began to rebuild. I saw it as right, and proper when we reclaimed our lost territories. The Rhineland, the Sarr, even the Sudetenland, but I became worried when we annexed Austria. The invasion of Poland opened my eyes to the growing evil in my beloved Fatherland. This was never a German territory, and we had no right. I saw the depredations we visited on the poor Poles firsthand, and my heart went out to them,"
"But you are married to an SS commander,"
"My marriage to Herman is strictly a matter of convenience. We have never shared a bed and I find his touch to be loathsome. Oh, he has preached to me many times about my duty as a German woman to have babies for the Fuehrer and all of that other rubbish. He has tried every argument, but in the end he is too attached to the title Baron Von Shoenstoffen to push me too far. For my part I get the freedom to continue to pursue and take to my bed any woman I choose, without fear of the Gestapo arresting me for immorality. I also have the freedom to travel, and have used my own family's connections to aide friends. Contrary to what the English broadcasts tell you, we are not all blood thirsty, slavering Huns,"
"Why did you help me?"
"You are quite attractive, it isn't the only reason, but it was certainly one of the factors in your favor. I had only just returned from a fruitless night of searching for a new lover when you burst in. You looked scared and lost and I instantly felt pity for you. I also saw that there was determination in your face, and you held your pistol steady, I admired you for your courage. I would probably have aided you if you had been old and ugly, or even a man, but it was a particularly easy decision given the circumstances,"
Anne-Marie did not know what to say, the situation was so surreal to her. A hammering on the door of the next apartment startled her and she jumped to her feet, her gaze darting fearfully around the room.
"Relax child, you are perfectly safe here. No soldier would dare knock on this door after my little talk with his commander. As long as you are here, you are as safe as you would be in your mother's arms,"
"Nowhere is safe,"
"Poor thing, how long have you been running?"
"Since the beginning,"
The lights went out suddenly, and the echoing report of the guns began. Sirens wailed and a massive explosion sounded somewhere near. Anne-Marie jumped, she could not stand loud noises, not since the day a bomb destroyed her home and killed her family in Metz. Of that day she remembered only the noise clearly, everything else was fire and pain.
She found later that she had been dragged from the rubble in a catatonic state. She had returned to Paris in one of the long refugee trains, oblivious to the world around her. She might have languished in one of the overcrowded city hospitals if Polly had not recognized her. The aspiring nurse was one of her cousin's best friends and they had been intimate on several occasions. Polly had taken her to her small home and nursed her back to health. They had had only a few weeks together before she had fled to Algeria. Polly's mother was a Jew, and that meant relocation if she were caught after the roundups began.
A second explosion rocked the room and Anne-Marie screamed. She felt a pair of incredibly strong, yet infinitely gentle arms warp around her. She found herself cradled tightly to the big woman's large soft breasts and she could feel them beneath her cheek as she struggled.
"Shhhh, it's just an air raid child, those bombs are hitting the marshalling yard, far from here,"
Another explosion sounded and Anne-Marie whimpered like an injured animal. She was loosing her mind and could feel the overwhelming fear and dread crushing her. It was becoming hard to breathe and she gasped for air. Air raids terrified her, but on top of tonight's fear, it was simply too much for the young woman to bear.
"Child? Anne-Marie? Are you all right?"
The words seemed to come from far away, she could feel herself beginning to shiver and twitch uncontrollably. She was vaguely aware of Elkie moving, but she had no real idea of what the older woman was doing. She was lost in a swirling cyclone of fear and it was quickly drawing her under, back to that place of nothingness. She had only barely escaped the first time, and then only with Polly's help, she knew instinctively if she ever returned it would be for good. Her mind groped for something, anything to tie her to reality.
She felt something soft press against her cheek. Her reeling mind tried to draw in that one sensation and examine it. By now it was pressed against her lips, they parted of their own accord. It was hard, but surrounded by soft warm flesh. A nipple? she thought. She felt a warm, soft hand stroke her cheek and without thought she began to pull at the nipple. Another crashing explosion sent her conscious mind to the dark safety of the void. Like a small child, she clung to the soft breast and suckled. She was content and happy, oblivious to the falling bombs and crashing guns.
Her mind returned to her slowly. The lights were back on, and the sirens had ceased to wail. The night was quiet, no longer filed with the booming of guns and falling of bombs. She was in a very beautiful room. She became aware of the nipple in her mouth. It was hard, and slick with her saliva. She jerked her head away and sat up, blushing furiously. Elkie smiled at her and began to tuck her breast back into her blouse.
"I am so sorry, I cannot take the bombs," Anne-Marie stammered.
"Don't be embarrassed, you are not the first to find comfort at my breast, are you all right?" Elkie asked, pausing with her fingers on the button to her blouse.
"Yes... I... Thank you,"
Elkie chuckled. "It was my pleasure I assure you,"
Anne-Marie blushed again. She wanted to say something, but her gaze was drawn to the pale expanse of the German woman's upper chest. The gentle swell of her breasts seemed wondrous and enthralling.
She tore here eyes away from the generous cleavage and found her eyes locked with the blonde woman's. Elkie smiled, and slowly undid the few remaining buttons. Here eyes never left Anne-Marie's as she tugged the shirttails out of her skirt, both of her breasts spilled out , free of the restraining silk at last.
She then extended her hand to Anne-Marie. In a trance the petite girl extended her own hand. Elkie tugged her back down into her lap. The bigger woman took her left breast in her hand and gently guided it to them smaller woman's lips. Anne-Marie could feel the turgid nipple slide along her lips. She knew she shouldn't allow this to happen. This woman was the enemy, but she had been so kind and gentle.
"Come ma petite, this one feels neglected," Elkie cooed.
That gentle coaxing was all it took, Anne-Marie' s lips parted and she sucked the nipple and part of the large aureole into her mouth. She heard the older woman's contented sigh, as her tongue rolled over the fat nipple. For a while she suckled like a child, but her rising excitement led to more aggressive licking and tonguing. The contented sigh gave way to a quiet moan of pleasure.
Elkie's hand slipped from Anne-Marie's cheek, down over her chest and eventually rested on her flat belly. The big woman's hand began to clench and relax and it was only when she felt the cool air on her thighs that Anne-Marie realized the hem of her dress was being pulled up. Soon the simple dress was bunched at her waist and only the thin cotton of her knickers kept the cool night air from her flesh. She was excited now, and when Elkie's hand brushed her mound she moaned into the big breast.
Elkie, gently pulled her breast out of Anne-Marie's mouth. It made a popping sound, as it came away from her still pursed lips.
"You are driving me to distraction ma petite. I want you, but not here. The bedroom is more appropriate for such adventures,"
She stood and pulled Anne-Marie to her feet. Elkie made no move to cover her breasts and Anne-Marie could see the white taffeta chemise that had covered them. This was pulled down underneath the heavy mummeries, staining to hold their weight. The older woman seemed unconcerned that the garment might be ruined. Anne-Marie wished she could afford such luxuries, her cotton chemise was so plain. Elkie took her hand and led her up the polished wood stairs.