Vera's Wartime Valentine

She turned and lifted his hand so that his fingers touched her panties where they were stretched tightly over her wide-open groin. "Have I got a boyfriend? Yes I do have thank you, he's away fighting the war -- more than you. But I bet you don't have a wife. So touch me you bastard, see if you can make me happy. Perhaps I can teach you how to please a woman."

The wretch didn't move so she raised her knee, forcing his shoulder once more until he yelped.

"Come on, do I have to tell you again?"

In response he stroked her lightly, his fingernail against the material on her sensitive, private spot. She enjoyed the sensation and the feeling of supremacy. This was brilliant, she decided. She had the ability to exert authority over weaker men and make them do her bidding. "Keep going, do it harder."

As he continued touching her she pulled the side of her panties aside to allow his fingers to touch her bare skin, her 'foo-foo'. She placed his hand in the right position so that he was rubbing her little nub of tissue just above her vagina. The nub that had given her so much pleasure during the dark evenings.

The sensation of another human touching her just there was just so distracting. It reminded her of Ken. But whilst he was doing it for mutual pleasure, this nameless man was doing it purely for her, because she was showing him who was in charge.

She told him to touch her more firmly, more vigorously. The finger was right on the spot and making her weak in the knees. She sank down so that all of her weight was on his back, then with a slight readjustment of his hand she was over the edge.

Vera was breathing heavily as she stood, moving her underwear back to its correct position. The man remained lying in the mud and she gave him a kick to remind him to stay there. Her knees were trembling but she hid that from him.

She turned and walked back to the farm; she didn't need to buy anything at the shops now.

~**~

Vera had a new-found confidence; several people noticed, Edith certainly did, thinking about life slipping past whilst she should have been cooking supper. Too often nowadays she made slow-cook dishes like the Woolton pie that could be bunged into the oven instead of food that needed attention.

She puzzled why it needed a silly name like that. It was just a load of chopped vegetables put into a pie, maybe with a tiny sprinkling of cheese on top. Named after the Minister of Food, Lord Woolton because he couldn't conjure meat out of nothing. Veg pie would have sufficed, that's what it was.

Vera was reading one of her letters from Ken. She had one nearly every day, sometimes a few came at once but they were dated so she could read them in order.

The first thing to do was to work out the puzzle on the back of the envelope, an apparently meaningless string of letters. Swalk was easy enough to work out (Sealed With A Loving Kiss), but Norwich took her a bit longer -- (Nickers Off Ready When I Come Home). Egypt made her smile wistfully (Eager to Grope Your Pretty Titties). Every few weeks he'd come up with a new one and if she couldn't work it out she'd have to ask her friends for help.

The content was very uninformative really, just that he was alive, well, uninjured, not taken prisoner. There was never anything about even what country he was in. But she treasured them all the same, sniffing them for any trace of his male scent.

All risk of Nazi invasion was long gone now, of course. The atmosphere was much more relaxed and people made more jokes without the grim tenseness of before. However there were now reports in the news of strange flying bombs called doodlebugs hitting London. The papers were full of photographs of demolished houses once more as well as news of successful battles in Europe and in the Pacific.

~**~

Vera lay on her bed, reading a book before sleeping. It was a mild spring evening and she had to be up early, but sometimes it was difficult to drop off. The other girls would be joining her soon

Idly she removed her nightgown and reached for her 'thatched cottage'. She could easily have satisfied herself just by by lifting the hem of the gown, but she liked to imagine that Ken was with her, stroking her naked body. Tonight she had the sensation that he was watching, enjoying the display.

He would be able to see her most intimate corners, she would expose herself for his pleasure. Her legs spread widely, his hands and body would be between her thighs. She would open her passage and allow him to penetrate her, accept his love and return it with honours. Yes, just as the joke went, she would offer her honour; he would honour the offer, and all night long it would be on her - and off her...

Their passion would be mutual, she would touch him as he fondled her. She imagined that she was being watched closely, that male eyes were seeing her separated lower lips, bring herself to a peak of animal passion -- a biological frenzy as someone once described it to her. She found the thought of being stared at exciting and opened her thighs even further.

When she finished darkness had fallen and she was able to sleep, just as Doris and Agnes joined her.

~**~

Vera was awoken by the sound of people outside. The summer sun had risen but it was too early even for the cows to be milked however there were definitely people outside in the farmyard.

She rose and peered out of the tiny window; there were several soldiers outside searching everywhere. A couple entered the barn whilst others stood guard outside.

She dressed quickly and went downstairs. One of the men was near to the front door, so she enquired, "What's wrong?"

The man had his rifle at the ready. "There's been a break-out. Some of the prisoners have escaped from the camp. The buggers dug a tunnel all the way under the fence. Best for you and everyone else to keep safe indoors for the time being, until it's safe."

Vera backed inside, as Samuel hurried down behind her. Soon everyone was up, as the soldiers searched the hay barn, the sheds and everywhere else that could conceal a man.

After an hour the area was declared safe and Vera went to the bottom field to help with the cows. There were only a handful left nowadays as most of the land was turned over to food crops 'for the duration', but they still needed attention -- and the nation still needed milk for the morning cup of tea. They were kept on the boggiest or the steepest parcels of land were no crops would grow.

The cows had to be led along the lane to the parlour, they knew the way of course and wanted to be milked so the main task was to open and shut the gates.

As she did so she came across a soldier escorting a prisoner walking the other way. He had his arms held high in the air but the soldier was very angry with him, shouting and swearing. When they saw her however, the soldier glared at her. He was the one who had accosted her in the alleyway. The German though looked her up and down, winked and smiled.

~**~

Within a short period nearly all the escapees were recaptured. It made no difference, the camp was closed and all the prisoners transferred to the other side of the country. It was easier to do that than to make sure that there were no other tunnels undiscovered.

Life went on and so did the war -- and within a few months it was all over. So everyone said; there were parties and all through the night the distant ships sounded their hooters -- the sounds carried for miles across the sea. Except it wasn't over really because Ken still couldn't come back; he was stuck in Germany with the prospect of being redeployed to the Pacific. It didn't seem fair to her, he had done his bit in the battles across Europe. Let some other poor sod invade Japan she thought, uncharitably.

Soon though there were prisoners back at the camp. Times were different now and these were mostly men waiting for repatriation - there was no war any more for them to escape back to, unless they fancied trekking all the way to somewhere like Burma. The atmosphere was relaxed and soon some of the prisoners were going out on work parties, offered to any employer wanting free labour. Samuel took up the offer immediately.

A small number came to the farm every day to help out, in return for food for the camp. Any animosity seemed to evaporate, there was now joviality and conversation instead of sullen glares and Nazi salutes.

The prisoners took a pride in marching better than their escorts Vera noticed. While the guards were clearly not crack troops, the Germans were fit, experienced in combat and excellent marchers. One of the prisoners who was called Gustav always took control, issuing orders to drill his men as the British soldiers shambled alongside. Some of the guards even obeyed the same commands.

Vera was amused at the efforts of her countrymen to try to keep up as their charges goose-stepped swiftly along. Gustav spoke a little English, he was some sort of officer and was friendly and talkative; soon he was eating meals in the farmhouse with the family and the girls.

~**~

One day the weather took a turn for the worse and Vera took a break in the hay-barn as rain began to fall. She had an apple saved from her lunch so sat down in the doorway to while away an hour. When she had finished the apple she sat silently, listening to the drumming of the pelting rain on the tin roof.

Then she heard a noise from within the store of hay, so silently she grabbed a stick and crept to the back, hoping to surprise a rat or whatever was there.

As she made her way around the piles of animal feed, she found herself looking at a pair of boots, then a pair of German uniform trousers tangled around hairy legs. Vera steadied herself and then saw a man's white ass with a pair of bare feet locked around his waist. Fascinated, she watched as the man wriggled and bounced on the woman underneath him laying in the hay.

As she watched, the strokes became stronger and groans became louder. The couple were oblivious to the spectator, fully engrossed in their pleasure. The man grunted his climax and the two lay still for a moment. Then the woman raised her head and a large white breast fell to one side. Edith looked straight into Vera's eyes.

Gustav raised himself and also saw Vera, who jumped back out of sight, too late. Far too late.

~**~

The evening meal that night was quiet, Edith was saying little and seemed subdued. Gustav had gone back to the camp with the others and Samuel was oblivious to everything.

Vera contemplated the relationship. Gustav wasn't so awful; he was slim and fair-haired with a Teutonic moustache. He was polite and well-mannered. Samuel on the other hand was short and stout. He was obsessed with the prices and costs of the farm and had little time for the niceties of conversation.

Edith had seemed more cheerful recently and her hair had been brushed more carefully than normal. Vera wasn't about to open her mouth to anyone, it had nothing to do with her.

However the encounter made her think again of the missed opportunity with Ken. What if he never returned -- to her or anybody else? What if he was maimed? Plenty of men were returning injured, some missing arms, legs or eyes. An entire hospital had been built just for the Americans, in a town an hour's train ride away. It was a vast sprawling site she had heard, constructed in the grounds of a country house in anticipation of healthy lads getting horrific injuries.

Gustav had a family back in Bavaria; he carried a photo of a woman and two cute blond boys with him. But it didn't stop him from making the most of his time with Edith, she realised. He was a long way from home and had been for a very long time. Perhaps Ken was similarly engaged.

The 'Admiralty' was now reducing its production, the workers were being laid off, the queues of trains lining up to discharge workers had vanished and the huge bus station outside the main entrance was nearly empty.

So the days passed and Vera quietly noticed that frequently Gustav and Edith would disappear into the barn. Samuel's humour seemed improved now, probably because his wife was distracted and had other things to do besides snarl at him. So everyone's life was happier -- it was a strange world, she thought to herself.

~**~

Summer was drawing to an end and the nights were closing in. One day Vera was taking a break from mending one of the dry stone walls which surrounded nearly all the fields. The animals nudged the rocks out of place and there was always maintenance needed.

Another of the prisoners approached her as she sat under a tree. He was called Helmut and had been working on the farm for several weeks. He wasn't as tall, blond and muscular as many of the others, but wore glasses and had crooked teeth. He sat next to her and spoke, but he didn't have very good English.

Vera looked at him quizzically and after repeating himself several times he shook his head and reached across to catch hold of her arm. She had no idea what he wanted but then he made himself clearer by trying to kiss her.

Vera was astonished. She snatched back in recoil and jumped up. However Helmut stood with her and grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him and down onto the grass.

He spoke again, she caught something that sounded like the word 'whore', which she could understand easily enough. She was outraged. How dare this piece of shit call her that, when she was still a virgin who had saved herself even from her lover who had gone to war?

She struggled upright and tugged her arm free. But he was on her again, wrestling her to the ground and ripping her blouse. Vera drew back her free arm and swung instinctively, punching him with an upper cut clean on the nose. She heard a scarily loud crack and he staggered silently back.

She looked at the worthless human before her and kicked him, putting all her strength and anger into it. Her boot sank into his body, sinking into the flesh before coming to a jarring halt as it met solid bone.

Helmut paused before reacting, a period while Vera wondered what would happen next. Then he grabbed his groin and screamed as he fell to the ground. He landed on his knees holding himself as Vera realised that she had struck him in the privates and he was completely incapacitated.

Helmut whimpered and waited a minute to recover himself, then with a snarl reached for her. She fell back and sat down but she was able to grab his wrist and bend it back, as she had learned to do in childhood fights. He had little resistance and it occurred to Vera that all those months and years spent heaving rocks, sacks of potatoes and straw bales around had given her strength and with all the exercise she was actually stronger than him, much like she was with the spiv in the alleyway.

Well, if he wanted to wrestle she could oblige.

She swung her leg over his head and locked her thighs around his neck. Entwining her ankles, she squeezed until his face went red and he slumped.

She relaxed to improve her grip,allowing him briefly to breathe. Then she applied all her weight and effort again to his head. She found that his face was now pressing against her crotch and as she moved, she was grinding him against her.

Helmut was suffocating and had wads of the robust cotton of her overalls being rubbed into his broken nose, knees pressed against his ears and an immensely powerful pair of thighs crushing his life away.

Vera started to rock. The feeling of control and dominance over this weakling was intoxicating. The pressure of his face against her 'tuppence' as her mother sometimes called it was thrilling.

Faster and harder she rocked, enjoying the increased massage of her body.

Then Vera heard noises behind her, she turned and saw Gustav and a few of the other prisoners approaching.

She looked down and saw the still figure of Helmut between her legs. She stood and faced the men, who stood still, staring at her.

Vera looked down at Helmut and saw to her astonishment that the front of his uniform was tented right up. The bastard had a hard-on.

~**~

Vera was reading her letters. Ken was back in the UK and had a few days leave available before returning to America and possibly the Pacific on the other side of the world. She was surprised, she had assumed that he had gone weeks before.

Soon she was waiting at the railway station as a train puffed into town. Ken stepped down and they met in a whirl of hugs and kisses.

Vera had finally saved up for a new dress; bright red with the hemline daringly a whole inch above the knee. She was worried that it made her look like a harlot but as long as she tugged it down whenever she sat, it was modest enough. With the end of hostilities there was a slight relaxation of the ration system and now there was enough material to make the dress flare out whenever she turned quickly.

They made their way back to the farm, holding hands. Edith was in the yard having her evening wash at the pump. She was bent over drenching the water over her head and didn't notice the two approach at first.

Ken noticed her soon enough, with her massive breasts dangling loosely. Just then she stood up and saw them. With a flick of her hand she swept her wet hair back and greeted Ken with a hug, leaving wet marks from her body against his uniform.

He managed to avoid any inappropriate contact as far as he could, placing his hands on her bare back. Vera led him firmly away and into the house.

She took him straight to her room; too long had she waited for this. Swiftly and without ceremony Vera tugged down her panties, discarding them where they fell.

Just as brusquely she unfastened Ken's trousers and lowered them to his knees. He was already stiff and she pushed him back onto the mattress, straddling him. She held his cock in her hand and guided him to her entrance.

Slowly but without ceremony she sank down, impaling herself. She winced as it broke through the barrier but she continued with all her weight.

Her dress covered both their bodies as Vera rose and fell again, eyes closed to concentrate on the sensation of taking him into her repeatedly. No more in the rear passage, from now on for her it was good old-fashioned fornication. She was going to copulate until she dropped, using the rhythm that he had taught her all those months ago. She swivelled her hips to feel him move from side to side, so that she knew just how deep he was.

Eventually she had to pause. Panting with exhaustion she rested on her elbows and raised her hips to allow Ken to move underneath.

He tried to continue the movement but he found it difficult so sat up and leaned her onto her back. With her heels locked around him as she lay down, he was able to crush their flesh together.

He came with an extra push, forcing himself deeper into her.

Just then they heard a cackle from the doorway, where Edith was standing with a towel to dry her wet hair. "Go on my boy, give her a good one. She's been waiting for you."

At that moment Ken was unable to move; he was busy expelling himself into Vera.

Edith continued, "My God, I've never seen buttocks clench like that, she's going to be sore for a week." She wound the towel into a turban and placed her hands on her hips, her breasts still uncovered.

With an effort Ken withdrew his cock, allowing a drip of semen to trickle from her.

"Are you getting our Vera into the family way you dirty stoat?" Edith wasn't finished. She rubbed the towel further into her hair, making her large nipples wobble. "Next time, Errol Flynn, remember to take your boots off. Never mind me, I'll leave you lovers alone." And off she went, giggling to herself.

Vera and Ken adjusted their clothing and went down to the living room. Agnes and Doris were sitting there with Edith who had now dressed herself.

The girls cheered as Vera entered, "Hooray, Vera's lost her cherry!"