Old Iron Balls

Well Freddy, good to see you. Glad you could make time to visit your old grandpa. Oh, grandma and I have been doing fine, thanks. How she keeps going is beyond me, but she's always been the strength of the family. Oh, I've slowed down a little, but I still can throw my line in the water most days, and enjoy my beer at supper time. That's how you live to be ninety five, none of this health food or clean living shit. Had to live rough for over a decade, took a few hits and came up swinging.

Well, you've done a couple of tours with the leathernecks, and now you're moving on. Yes, I'm glad you're working for the Company now, so is Grossmutti. Aren't you glad you spent all those summers with us, touring Germany and Europe? You might not have gotten to Heidelberg for university if we haven't taught you German, made you use it with us all the time. Fluency is another language opens doors, and I understand you've learned Russian as well as German. French, too? Proud of you, boy. Oh, we enjoyed taking you around, no doubt, I can tell you know you're our favorite grandchild. The life of a CIA agent is demanding, even though it's probably not as romantic as in our days. Being a Cold Warrior was extreme, as you kids put it. You've read LaCarre, right? There you go. Imagine there's still a lot of fun you can get into.

Oh, they've been telling stories about me at Langley? Don't know why, I never came up with any big coups. Glad they remember me with respect. How did I get the nickname 'Old Iron Balls'? Heh, heh, heh, well grandpa hasn't told that story for a while. Let me look around a little, make sure Trudi isn't here. What, don't get romantic on me, every couple has secrets from each other. No, she knows how I got the nickname. She doesn't need to know I'm telling you this story.

Comes from my field days. I lied about my age and joined the army in WW2, served in the artillery in Italy. In all my life, I've never had a scarier day than landing on the beach in Anzio, my first day in combat, even though it was a cakewalk. When the Germans got organized, it was a shithole. Damn Mark Clark! That whole operation was one big clusterfuck, we shoulda won the war in '44.

My family always liked to gab, and my grandparents came from Silesia, so I was already bilingual, and I picked up enough Italian to get by. Well, I always enjoyed making deals, and made contact with the locals for various things to make live more bearable. Soon I had contacts all the way up the peninsula, even did deals with the Germans. Usually screwed them over, they were the enemy, right?

Well, VE day came, and the OSS asked if I was interested in working for them. Hell, I didn't want to go back to northern Wisconsin, so I said yes in a heartbeat. After a little training, they set me up in east Berlin as a grocer. Yeah, things were cooling off with the Soviets, and they wanted to get listening posts set up as soon as they could. I knew something about the grocery business, my dad ran one, so here I was posing as a Wehrmacht vet who fought in Italy. Fritz Schnitter, from Silesia, family were all Communists back to the Empire days. Great legend, worked like a charm.­

Everything started out OK, and I started gathering product on the streets for the Company as well as filling my shelves with good produce, but as the Commies took over, it got harder and harder. Yeah, I did my paperwork with them, got official approval to run an official state store. Of course, there was a black market, and I made lots of friends, so I survived. Was there more than twelve years, and even had the Politburo staff as customers. Yeah, you could call me a charter member of the Company, although I never got to HQ until later.

It was '53 she started coming by. Karin Hoffmeister was her name: a squat woman in her early 20's in a brown Vopo uniform. Regular customer on behalf of the government offices, I think she supplied the border guard's mess. Things started getting tense after the June uprising that year, had to be careful after that. Classic Teutonic features: sharp chin, blond hair, piercing blue eyes. The Nazis would have loved her. Those eyes could get me hard all by themselves. Wore her hair in braids wound around her head. Also on the plump side, well, not really fat, but stocky. Built like a brick German shithouse. Five feet tall, and carried herself like a soldier.

Also had the biggest tits I ever saw. Oh, I'd seen plenty by then, and I'm not bragging, Freddy, but these made my head spin. I'm sure she knew it, and got deals from me I wouldn't have given just anybody. Did I fuck her? No, you needed more than iron balls to approach a woman like that. She knew how to turn me on and turn me off. I was a bit paranoid about VD in those days, so when I was in Italy I always dealt in oral sex. Couldn't get VD from a chick's mouth. Sure, I'm pretty sure she was a virgin at the time, and I found out later for sure. But I'm getting ahead of myself. She was...

Wait a minute...Hello, Trudi? I'm fine, just sitting on the porch with Freddy, he just got in a half hour ago. No, he's unpacked his bags and turned down a nap. Just catching up on the family news. Yes, I heard Betsy's pregnant, and yes, I know that makes thirteen. That's unlucky, I may need to send Freddy out on the town tonight to make it even again. Fine, but I don't see how that will help things. Yes, since Freddy's here I think we'll need more beer. No, I don't think he'll settle for Budweiser, never has before. Yes, liebchen, you mean the world to me, too. Later.

Where was I? Oh yes, Berlin. Karin Hoffmeister. I used to lie awake at night, dreaming about those tits. Does Gossmutti know? I should say so. Karin only came on business, but we would make small talk, little flirtations. Don't think many men flirted with her, and I may have been the only man she flirted with. She never said much of consequence, but once in a while she let something slip that confirmed other stories. My contacts were scared of her, said she was the toughest interrogator in the business. Most of her subjects disappeared right after she was done with them.

I loved playing with fire. Hell, I was so happy in Berlin the whole time, playing the game was so much fun. For the last five years, we traded and bantered. I thought she was in her mid 30s, but she was only 25 when things fell apart. Oh, my tradecraft was textbook: lived my cover, took chances only when I had to, made drops without being seen. Pretended to be gay to mask my unmarried state, and try put Karin off the scent. Couldn't imagine her as a straight woman, either. Dreamed about getting her into an interrogation room, stripping her down and making her give me everything.

Then it happened, right after the Pope died in '58. Karin caught someone who talked too much, and she put two and two together. Set me up pretty good, made two visits to my shop without giving me the slightest hint she was on to me. Then one day, she was there, talking about onions and Elvis getting drafted, and asked me to get her a sack of potatoes from the back. I had a fifty pound bag in my arms as I came through the storeroom door, and saw her reaching up to get a can of sardines from the top shelf.

Suddenly, three buttons on her blouse gave way, and an ocean of tanned skin popped into view. Her cleavage was dramatic, and there wasn't a visible tan line. I stopped and just stared, my mouth wide open, which gave her the chance to kick me in the balls as hard as she could.

I dropped to my butt in shock, and she kicked my nuts again. The pain hit me, drawing my knees together, and snapping my eyes shut. "I know you're not from Silesia, Fritz. I know you were never in the Wehrmacht, I know German isn't your native language, although your German is excellent. I know Fritz Schnitter isn't your real name. You don't carry English tea or anything French, so I think you're an American. CIA would be my guess. You're a professional, and I give you credit for that." I noticed at the time she was wearing boots, and one of them blasted my crotch again.

She sneered at me when I was able to open my eyes again. I noticed she had turned my sign around to "Closed" and pulled the blinds. "You were good, led me on a merry chase, but now it's over. All over. You will tell me everything in order to live. I will give you a moment to catch your breath so you may speak. My English is perfect, so you can talk in your native tongue if you wish."

I tried to meet her glare and for a minute held her eyes unblinking. She took a deep breath, making her chest heave and I was distracted. "I have seen you looking at my breasts. That pleases me, most of the men I know take no notice of them. I guess my reputation puts them off." I looked back at her as calmly as I could, the sack of potatoes holding down my midsection. She smiled broadly, a twinkle in her eyes, and turned to silhouette them. "They are magnificent, aren't they? A woman appreciates the attention. Perhaps you have dreamed of seeing more. For information, I will give you a look. Tell me the rest of your contacts and you may see them in all their glory." They strained her bra, perfectly formed orbs with slivers of aureola peeking out. She noticed I was fixed on them, and she whipped off her tunic and blouse. Her torso was tanned, which was incredible for that time and place. "You could give me your name, rank, and serial number, if you wish. I bet you were a soldier in the last war. Not an officer, you don't have that kind of bearing. A supply sergeant, with contacts for all kinds of supplies? Works nicely with what you're doing now. You have seen combat, I can sense that. Probably fought in Italy after all, just not on our side." I will still staring at her tits, the concentration helped me push aside the agony of my testicles. "Names. Names for skin. Names for life itself. Who is in your network? Who are your sources? How do you communicate with your handlers?"

She smiled at me, and played with her bra strap. Looking at me with lust in her eyes as she slipped it down, exposing more tanned skin. Damn, the woman must have sunbathed naked. Not many people did that in those days, and not many easterners. Damn, I felt weak! She reached around and undid the clasp in the back. My eyes were fixed, my balls throbbed, my heart pounded, I couldn't move. She had me where she wanted me. Slowly she slipped down the other strap and held the bra in front of her, barely covering her tits.

Damn that woman! Yes, Trudi. What? We have enough food, we could feed an army if we wanted to. Schnapps? Three bottles, if that doesn't keep Freddy happy for three days...and Riesling, and Rhine Wine, and Alsatian, yes we have wine for meals...I went to the bakery this morning, remember? Yes, I got enough croissants for breakfast tomorrow. Yes, get some fresh asparagus and salad greens and we'll make do. Yes, liebchen, I am lost without you.

Wow! Where was I? Oh, yes. Her eyes were demanding my submission while she teased me with that bra covering her luscious breasts. On a whim, she decided to break me by tossing the garment aside. My god, they were so wonderful! I have never seen breasts that big that were so perfectly round! Her nipples perked up right away, quarter sized, begging to be licked. Damn, she was good! She let me stare at them for a lifetime, licking her lips, before she spoke again, her eyes seeing right through me.

"Now you have your desire, give me mine. You cannot resist. Your name, your real name, your contacts. That will be enough. Tell me. Tell me. Tell me, or these breasts will punish you!"

I was speechless, couldn't have told her anything if I wanted to. She came forward, and her right breast slapped me across the face like a bowling ball. "These breasts give death. I have beaten many men to death with them. Why? Because it turns me on! My breasts serve the Revolution! My breasts liberate the workers! Tell me what I want." she swung her right breast again, and it was like a baseball bat met my jaw. Still speechless, her left boob got into the action and soon I was being pummeled by those orbs.

She got angry at my silence, and kicked my balls again several times. I fell back on my back and she jumped on top of me, pressing her right breast onto my face. My breath was cut off. For a brief moment, I imagined her smothering her other victims with her tits. What a way to go! But I had to find escape, or I was gone as well.

She made one mistake: her quarter sized nipple was on my lips. By instinct I sucked it in, and sucked more and more until my mouth was almost full. She moaned, and then I bit down on that soft flesh as hard as I could.

Grabbing the back of my head, she kept me smothered, and I started chomping the brown bud viciously. She gave out only one scream and held as tightly as she could, holding me close as lights started to dance before my eyes and I felt my consciousness swimming away.

Then, suddenly, I could breathe the sweet air again. Karin rolled off me, holding her wounded mammary, sobbing and rocking in pain. Adrenaline kicked in; I leapt up and over the counter, through the storeroom and out the back door. Thank God for adrenaline, or I was a dead man. I expected someone to shoot me when I hit the back alley, but Karin must have worked alone, counting on me to give up or die; I would have had someone out back. Five minutes later I was picking up my escape passport and sounding the alarm to my network. We all got out, safe and sound.

Of course after I went through Checkpoint Charlie, I collapsed in a heap of pain and they had to call an ambulance for me. Couldn't even look at a girlie picture for a week.

What happened to her? No, I didn't have to wait until the Wall came down before I found out. They didn't send me home, they were short German speakers to debrief defectors, and I knew the place too well. Three years later, Karin came into my office, still wearing her Vopo uniform, must have just walked across the border. I was behind a table in the interrogation room, and she took a seat opposite to me, her knees together with her hands on them, looking directly at me. Her braids were wound around her head, her eyes darted to and fro, as if she wanted to look at me, but was afraid to meet my gaze. We sat for what seemed a lifetime in silence, tension thick and smothering.

"Of all the people I never expected to walk into my office. Fancy seeing you here," I began.

She fidgeted, not look at me while speaking. "Yes. Never thought I'd see you again. Surprised you didn't kill me when you had the chance."

"I'm too much of a gentleman. Wasn't there to kill people. But you could have come after me, taken me out. You must have known where I worked over here." She nodded solemnly. "What brings you here?"

She gave a great sigh, and shook her head. "A wall. They're putting up a wall around your zones, starting work in a couple of days. Tired of all the people leaving the worker's paradise, need to stop it. If it really was a worker's paradise, they wouldn't have to build walls. The Revolution is a farce. Couldn't stay. I was a true believer. No more."

I nodded. "Glad you could see things our way. We're not perfect, but at least we're not too much of a farce. We will take care of you, of course."

"Of course." She was glaring at a corner of the ceiling, still defying something. "After you get everything I know."

"You know the story. How much you tell us doesn't matter, we have lots of defectors." I stood up and walked around a minute, looking out the window. "I've missed you."

She gave me a strange look and started to play with the end of her braid. "I've missed you as well. Those were pleasant times, stopping by your shop. I enjoyed chatting with you, playing games."

"Flirting."

My eyes twinkled. "Especially that."

"Me, too. Pity it's gone."

There was a long, awkward silence. "I didn't want to believe you were a spy," she murmured. "I could live with you being a black marketeer, but not a spy. Was so mad at you, I couldn't see straight. Lost my mind, wanted to kill you right away rather than arrest you and make certain...you were gone."

I shrugged. "It was only business. Nothing personal. I had to serve my cause, you had to serve yours."

"I guess." Her braids were undone, and hung forward over her chest, falling off her breasts. "Sorry I tried to beat you to death."

"Forgiven. It was only business. Glad you didn't shoot me. If there was a way I could die in the line of duty, I would choose that one. Being beaten by your perfect breasts."

She smiled and played with the end of a braid. "Only one escaped me, you. The only one lived to tell of my beatings. You. You hurt me. I still have a scar."

"I regret that. Didn't want to hurt you. Wish I didn't have to do that."

She started unbuttoning her blouse slowly. "I understand, you were fighting for your life. My motives were different." As she pulled her blouse back, I could see she wasn't wearing a bra. Undoing the last button, it came open, and the sight of her perfectly tanned orbs made me glad again. Her finger came up to trace a scar around her right nipple. "See, here is where you marked me. Come close and take a good look at it."

I moved close and saw that I'd left a deep mark all the way around her brown bud. "Had to go to the hospital, lied to them about how I got hurt," she continued. "Never told anybody. Never beat anyone to death with my breasts again."

Kneeling, I put my hand on the underside of that delicious globe, caressing it. "Let me apologize." I ran my tongue all around the scar, again and again. Her hand came up to hold the back of my head and gently push it toward her. Finally I sucked the whole bud in again. "Give me a little tooth. Just a little." she gasped as I started lightly chewing her nipple, and in a couple of minutes started panting heavily. Instinctively, my hand went over to caress her other breast and I kept up my sucking and nibbling until she went over the top.

I stood up and went behind the table. Karin smiled at me, undoing her braids to swing free. "I remember I hurt you as well. I'm sorry I kicked you balls so often."

"It was only business, I'm sure."

She nodded. "Oh yes, but I enjoyed it. I'm really a bit of a pervert, but I haven't enjoyed that since you. I must atone for the pain I caused you."

Sliding under the table, she undid my dress slacks, leaving my coat and tie alone, and pulled my pants and shorts down together. Then her face came in, and the most delightful sensation I've ever known, her tongue bathing my balls with her wet saliva, took my breath away. My eyes rolled back in my head and time stood still.

Or at least it did until my breathing sped up and my body started to tremble. Then she slid my cock into her mouth and sent me to a different plane of existence. She undid her braids, letting her long blonde hair flow, and hit me with a smile I'd never seen before.

Do I know what became of her? Oh, yah. Of course. Doesn't take a great detective, Freddy. Something is stirring in your brain. Karin Hoffmeister was a work name, just like Fritz Schnitter. Her real name? It's on your lips, you know. Figure it out, kid. Trudi. You know it. Romantic, right? And that's how I got my nickname in the Company: she damn near broke my balls six times in one day, and ended up giving me seven children. Only a man with Iron Balls...

Now your Grossmutti must never know you've heard this story. Neither of us has told any other member of this family that we were on opposite sides of the Cold War, and she tried to kill me, much less how she did it. She would be mortified, most likely, if any of you found out, and I don't want her hurt. We protect each other, Trudi and I. It was bad enough, the teasing we took at Company parties. No, I'm not telling you more, it's none of your damn business. You know way too much about my sex life as it is. Look, you don't want to piss her off, especially when you're tinkering with her out in the garage on those old Mercedes roadsters...look, she can be just as devious as she used to be and she wears steel toed boots now...