Chapter 8
Christine Lavie felt her mouth go dry. Her heartbeat increased to the tempo of her runaway imagination. From the moment she had first seen Ada, she had been irrevocably attracted to her. How handsome she was with her erect posture, her flawless skin, her penetrating blue eyes. The black SS uniform in itself was a potent symbol, but clinging to Ada's magnificent figure it became a sex object.
Christine should have been angry or lost in despair, but instead she felt the greatest surge of sexual desire she had known in her lifetime. There had been plenty of female lovers in her life, and she thanked God for that. Otherwise her sex parts would be withering from neglect. Oswald, her first husband, was totally sexless. He tried to provide her with sex, but it was useless. His wrinkled sex organ would lift its head as a water snake seeking prey, but when its prey was found, it consistently wilted.
To make the best of a ludicrous situation, Christine tried desperately to bring her aging husband back to vigorous life. She would stroke it, kiss it, and fondle it fervently. She would assume the most extraordinary positions, and stage the most bizarre bedroom games possible. But it was all for naught.
She was benighted as a child then, having just come from the convent, and his demands ran against her moral grain, but she was willing to do anything to make this masterpiece of mismatching a marriage. It wouldn't work. Nothing helped.
When total frustration threatened to destroy her sixteen-year-old mind, a village matron came to her aid. She was only a simple peasant woman, but she possessed understanding and insight. She saw in Christine something of herself, perhaps, but she knew how to solve her immediate problem. She invited her to the farmhouse for an afternoon visit, and while her boorish husband tended his sheep, the woman began to hug, soothe and caress Christine. The warmth of understanding soon turned to the breathless urgency of sex. The heavy matron undressed Christine and gave her eager body a new dimension.
At the moment, Christine's mind ordered retreat, but she was through following orders-even from her own mind. Instead, she submitted fully, allowing her hunger-wracked body to assume control. The woman's mouth was deft and devouring. She made no effort toward refinement when the physical plateau was reached. She pressed Christine's lithe limbs into a receiving nest and nosily, demandingly took what was there.
Biweekly trysts with the coarse farm woman kept Christime alive temporarily, but the time came where her restlessness caused her to escape over the mountains. She was huddling fearfully in the doorway in a small Austrian village when a portly gentleman with a huge mustache paused to eye her. He asked who she was and where she belonged.
At first his demanding manner frightened her. She styled him a public official, possibly the prefect of police. But he turned out to be a rather eccentric man of science who had a paternal instinct, and an eye for beauty. He took Christine home to his mountain sanctuary, where for a time she was happy. But later the same old prison doors clanged shut, and she was once more trapped.
She had been with this bizarre mate for a month before any sexual hints were suggested. Even then it was Christine who presented the possibility. She said she was eighteen and had strong desires for the physical aspects of marriage.
The phlegmatic scientist had become accustomed to her laboratory help, her thorough housekeeping, and her good cooking; he didn't want to loose her. With such inducements in mind, he offered her his overweight body. He wasn't quite as old as her first husband, but he was no sexual fireball.
Yet, it was through him that Christine experienced her first minimal joys of vaginal sex. He was lacking to be sure, but there was at least hope. But he too abandoned the pretense.
He once more retreated day and night into his laboratory, and Christine began to search about. There was a man, the assistant to the doctor, but the very sight of him disgusted Christine. He had a beard and was coarsely mannered. No, he would never do. Then she sought and found the other kind of love. The kind that was forbidden, but thoroughly satisfying. It came with the housekeeper's daughter, Taina.
She was perky and pretty and spent hours devouring the stacks of movie magazines left behind by the American tourists. After gaining her confidence by feigning mutual interest in the Hollywood idols, Christine touched repeatedly on the subject of sex. Soon she had the fifteen-year-old in bed, showing her the joys of homosexual love.
Taina visited Christine's room nearly every night, and at other times she made friends with several of the nurses at a nearby hospital. The readiness of most women to submit to lesbian sex surprised Christine at first, but then it became a matter of course. She supposed it was always this way.
Only once, in Paris, was Christine rejected when she made an advance toward a girl. The girl was an Australian school teacher, and was more masculine than any female lover Christine had known. But the pass infuriated the girl, and she slapped Christine. This occurred only a week before Christine's abduction in Oslo. She was less aggressive in suggesting the diversion to Ada. But now Ada was accepting her, and pleasure would soon be theirs.
She started to strip, but was arrested by the spectacle that was in progress across the room. The tall, exquisite fraulein was undressing, and Christine wanted to observe the bodily treasures as they came to view.
Ada kicked the boots aside after struggling out of them, and her tunic soon followed. When the body-clinging white shirt was unbuttoned and dropped, Ada's strong, rounded breasts bounced free. Christine was delighted. They had been without a supporting bra, and with a great shimmering bounce as they were revealed for inspection. And they were magnificent.
Large, they were, but that wasn't all. It seemed as though the distended nipples were aiming at the moon.
When Ada became aware of her audience, she struck a provocative pose, "You like what you see?"
"Magnifique!" Christine whispered in awe. "Tres magnifique!"
Ada, still smiling, unzipped her fly and stepped out of the breeches. Now she was naked but for the brief white panties. Christine felt a deep stirring at the sight of the long, strong, shapely legs. Christine had never seen anything to equal this. The thighs were perfectly proportioned. There were muscles beneath to give tone, but the muscles were hidden under the most exquisite paddings of flesh. Christine watched the panties come off, and her goddess was naked. The hair was so blonde-so appealing. This would be a night to remember. It could turn out to be her last-but it would be glorious.
"Don't you want to undress, my pretty one?" said Ada, moving closer. "Perhaps you are modest, and prefer to use the bathroom."
"No. I'm being enchanted by your beauty. I've never seen anyone with your magnificence -truly."
Ada was proud and flattered. At first she stood very straight, giving her breasts added uplift. But then a stab of withering truth destroyed her dream. "Would you like to examine the backside of your handsome lover?" she asked with a trace of bitterness.
"Yes," said Christine quietly. "I would."
"You might as well," she said, turning. "We can get it over with now."
Ada listened as she made her turn, but the usual gasp wasn't forthcoming. As she was about to make the turn back, she felt soft hands clutching around the front of her thighs. Then she felt a hot mouth against her scarred buttock flesh. The arms clung tightly, and tongue-darting-kisses bathed the tissues of past beatings. The gesture was grand, but Ada couldn't stand the embarrassment. She pictured the full, red lips kissing the ugly surface of her abused body. The picture disturbed her. She quickly turned about to make the vagrant kisses fall where she would welcome them.
As Ada, breathing heavily, looked down at her adorable young friend, she was touched by what she saw. There were tears in her eyes. Real tears-and they were for her. Ada clutched Christine's shoulders and moved her pelvis forward. She brought the face firmly against her womanhood and held it there. It was good to feel her warmth-her willing mouth.
"Come my dear," said Ada, running her fingers through Christine's disheveled hair. "We'll go to the bedroom, where you can take my gifts. There's a whole storehouse for you."
Obediently, Christine released her hold and rose to her feet from where she was kneeling. She leaned against Ada as her strong arm guided her through the large door.
Inside the bedroom, Ada unbuttoned Christine's blouse, but Christine hadn't the patience for this. In a half dozen hasty moves, she made herself naked. Christine started to fall into Ada's arms, but Ada restrained her. "No, wait," she exclaimed. "Let me look at you first." She took several steps. "Just as I imagined you would look. You have a perfect figure. As good as mine but in smaller proportion."
"You're kind," said Christine, with a wavering smile. "But you needn't flatter me. I am a mutation compared to you. "Look, she said, cupping a small, firm breast. "I'm small and puny." She smoothed a hand along her nicely rounded hips. "And my hips lack the smoothness and symmetry of yours. I was never ashamed of my figure until now."
Ada came back to her, and kissed her tenderly on the lips. Smiling tolerantly, she reached down and balanced a breast in the cradle of her hand. "I have never felt a firmer breast. You have good posture, compact and shapely legs, and this. . . ." Ada lowered her hand to find Christine's venus warmth. She pushed her hand between the thighs, capturing the pad of warmth in her palm. She gently tested it with her fingers. "This is adorable. Its foliage isn't overabundant and what there is, is as soft as kitten fur. I have always considered the term 'pussy' to be a misnomer, but not in your case."
Christine laughed musically. "I didn't know that part of the anatomy could be so different from one girl to the next. But yours is different. So blonde and fine." Now her hand matched the caresses of Ada. The two women stood before each other boldly exploring the other's most intimate flesh.
"Let's go to bed," said Ada. "I'm burning up inside."
As Ada opened the covers for Christine to crawl in, she made a sigh, then, "Didn't my scars disgust you?"
"I saw no scars," Christine murmured as she snuggled into position in the silken sheets. "I can see no imperfections in my beautiful new friend."
Ada joined her then and took her into her arms. She kissed Christine's mouth with fervor, poking her tongue tip between Christine's parched and probing lips. Their tongues met, and their warm, sex-hungered bodies pressed together. Arms held the bodies tight, and rhythmic moves made each aware of the other's sexuality.
The pads of flesh and fur met and mingled, establishing their friendship in physical terms. Christine's smaller breasts pressed against the firm strength of Ada's pendants. Bellies, each flat and lean, felt the muscles of the other. Lower, the union was more meaningful. Sex met sex, blonde and brunette showing no prejudice.
"Oh," Ada cried out, her hand gripping a taut sphere of flexing buttocks. "How wonderful you are. Wunderbar!"
Then came a flurry of movement, with Ada scurrying lower on the bed. As she made her hasty descent, her tongue tip flicked over hardened nipple and paused at the navel for a lingering moment. Ada clutched the arching hips in both hands and lowered her kiss to Christine's womanhood. As the kiss livened, Christine's trembling legs fell open.
Ada took the thighs in each hand and spread them back. They were high, they were wide. Gathering the thighs in separate arm locks, Ada made her kisses more demanding. The flesh folds seemed to be smiling as Ada paid homage. The erected protrudance pulsed with eagerness, but soon was fed. Ada's tongue taunted it. Soon her face settled in, and the rhythmic movements began in earnest.
Christine was already weeping with joy. She clung to Ada's head with both hands. Her small hips churned up and down, rising-falling. The quaking hips rolled right, left, lifting against the magic kisses. Christine was free of all thought as the intense pleasure devoured her soul. "Oh, oh, oh!" she cried, her hips accenting each clipped sigh. Up, up, up her body went, and then-glory.
She lurched and trembled as her joy was completed. She boldly gave all of herself to the German: her sex, her soul, her life. It was all Ada's now, given with gratitude and pleasure. The hip contortions subsided, but Ada's mouth kept moving. Each morsel of Christine's love was wanted-demanded. In broad, encompassing mouth strokes the love chapter ended.
This had always been pleasurable for Christine, but had never been this grand. When it was over, she felt a deep narcotic sleep sweeping over her. Could drugs produce such pleasure? Christine thought no. Nothing could. This was the epitome, the zenith of earthly joy. Her seated body trembled in after-shock. To steady her quaking limbs, Ada held Christine closely. She kissed her mouth gently, fully. Her mouth was wet, gloriously wet.
"Was it good, precious one?" Ada whispered.
"So very wonderful," she gasped. "I want to take you. I must. . . ."
"No-not yet," Ada insisted. "First have your ecstasy. We have a whole night ahead of us."
Christine was grateful for this. She did want these moments. They were so very pleasant and fulfilling. She drew Ada very close, savoring the feel of her smooth, womanly warmth. It would be a perfect night.