!--ADULTSONLY--Frau Greta Von Yurt's Gestapo Ordeal!

BUT
YOU
MY
DEAR,
are still young and have much life before you. With that in mind, you will find enclosed some provisions I have made for both your future security and your immediate safety. I have written you out an unlimited travel pass which will allow you to cross the border and leave Berlin. You will also find an envelope containing 50,000 american dollars. This should see you through for quite some time, at least long enough to establish yourself wherever you finally end up.

The soldier who delivered this is at your beck and call. He will take you to the border and see to it that you don't run into any problems.

But use haste, my sweet, for Germany is losing the war and if those blood-thirsty Russians come storming into Berlin, there is no telling what they will do to a lovely fräulein such as yourself. To further inspire you to use haste, I will tell you this: The revenge-seeking Russians will make the barrack's boys look like saints by comparison. So, hurry my love, hurry. And God go with you.

Forever yours,

Otto (Mein PM)

His PM? she thought. It took her a bit before she got it. His piss mouth. How endearing of him, she mused.

Greta wanted to cry, but couldn't. She didn't have it in her no matter how "fondly" she now felt for her Otto. She took out and opened one of the folded letters. The travel pass, just as Otto had promised. She reached in and extracted the other folded letter. She opened it and read, tears immediately welling up in both eyes. It was on war deparment stationery.

The first two lines were unimportant. It was the third line that was responsible for her tears.

With deep regret, we hereby report the death, in wartime action, of Lieutenant Hans Von Yurt, Commander 2nd Division, 4th Battalion, 1st regiment, Russian front, XY223174D. There was more, his heroism in battle, his dedication, etc. but she couldn't care about that, Hans was gone and that was that. She let her tears flow unstopped, her body convulsing uncontrollably.

Then reality crept in. Make haste, Otto had said. She quickly packed a suitcase, changed her clothes to something demure for travelling, and went and opened the front door. The young statue soldier was still there, as rigid as ever, waiting for her instructions. She told him to take her to the border immediately. He clicked his heels and said yes Frau Von Yurt. Thus, with nothing more than that, she was off to a new life.

They had driven in total silence for nearly ten minutes when a thought popped into her head. She tapped the driver's shoulder and said, "Do you know that my husband, SS-Oberführer Otto Stemp is dead?"

"Yes, Frau Von Yurt. I had to know that in order to follow my previous instructions." He sounded nervous in her company.

"Do you know how it happened?" She had to know, but didn't know why. Perhaps it would mean something to her in the long run.

"The SS-Oberführer was on a routine inspection of the barracks, Frau Von Yurt, when the allies carpet bombed it. He was killed along with 160 fine German soldiers." She thought, the barrack's boys! Poof!

"What is your name?" she asked.

"Joseph Fritz, Frau Von Yurt. Sergeant Fritz, Frau Von Yurt."

"Well, Joseph, I want to ask you a question and I expect total honesty from you." She was about to use an Otto tactic. "If you lie to me, Sergeant Fritz, I will know it and you will have your next chat with Colonel Stetl. Understand me?" He only nodded his yes, too afraid to even speak.

"Good. Now, here's the question, Joseph. Have you ever heard the sexual rumors when it comes to me and the SS-Oberführer, about how we have orgies with his officers and all. Be honest or it will cost you dearly, young man!" She liked this game of power playing. It seemed to suit her.

He paused before answering, surely thinking, and finally nodded. He'd heard. Who hadn't? Greta thought.

"Good! That means we have no secrets about the matter, now do we?" He shook his head from side to side, not knowing what else to do. His mouth was so dry, he was glad she was accepting his nods and head shakes for answers.

"Now, my little Fritzie, I want you to be a clever boy and find us a nice and quiet and very secluded little spot where I can show you the truth to all the rumors. Are you game for something new?" He nodded again, this time a little faster.

"Good. I promise it will be great fun, liebschen. Just you wait and see." She felt the old wetness beginning to form in her crotch. I am a totally depraved slut, she thought, and I don't give a rat's ass.

Less than five minutes later, Sergeant Fritz pulled into a shady glen, a place surrounded by large trees and a mile off the main road. The only sound either of them could hear was the sound of crickets chirping, seeking love from one another, their message rhythymical and unmistakable to other crickets.

Greta left the car and Fritz followed suit. They now stood less than three feet apart. Perspiration had formed on his upper lip and across his forehead. He looked even younger than she had first remembered.

Boldly, she said, "Take off all your clothes, lover, and show me what you have for me. I love surprises!" God, I'm absolutely wanton, she thought. He started to strip. She started to do likewise.

In minutes, they were both in the middle of the glen, naked and natural. His "natural" was about 7" long, thickish and even now was fully erect and pointing skyward, a large drop of his pre-juices slickly coating his larger-than-normal cock head. His balls looked full and oversized. A seam ran down the middle, which reminded Greta of a walnut. A large walnut.

Sergeant Fritz

Greta knelt down and
licked the large drop
away. He moaned at
the touch, his legs
trembling fiercely.
He licked his dry lips. "Now," Greta said, looking up at him. "I am going to show you everything I have ever done with the SS-Oberführer and with all of his officers." She stood up, put both arms around his neck and looked him directly in the eyes. She was smiling at him. At his youngness and naivety.

"It always starts, my liebschen," she whispered
hoarsely, "with a very long and passionate, wifely kiss . . . "

The End.
"From my mind, to your mind!"