Chapter 17

The Fallen Idols

However, fate was again to take a hand in changing my destiny.

Karl came to see me one day, and with his usual enigmatic smile and his faintly sarcastic voice said:

"Monique, I want you to be at one of our farewell parties tomorrow night."

"Certainly."

"This is going to be the best one we have ever had!"

"Why, did you find the others so tame?"

"Perhaps ... "

Still smirking mysteriously, Karl's blue eyes sent me a joyous flame.

So next night our merry band once more gathered at the appointed spot. Frieda, still as impatient as ever, questioned:

"Well, what are we waiting for?"

"We have guests tonight," answered Karl.

"Ah! Who, may I ask?"

"You will see in a moment."

"Men or women?"

"Both."

"All the better; as the saying goes, the more the merrier."

At that moment a couple came in. He was tall with graying hair, obviously a soldier who seemed awkward in his civilian suit. She was slim, very blonde and good looking, and she somewhat resembled Hilda. There was, however, one queer point about them. They both had masks on. To add to this, they did not say a word. From all this I deduced they wished to remain incognito; but as far as taking part in our foul manipulations went, they certainly did their share. We were hardly all in our birthday suits when the unknown woman caught me by one breast and, taking Hilda in the same way, lay down on the sofa, motioning us to caress her.

Naturally we hurried to oblige her. She had a magnificent body. I got hold of one of her sharp, tasty tits with my lips, biting and licking it feverishly, while I fondled the other with my ever-wandering hand. As I savored the flavored juices of her blossoming fruit, Hilda worked lower down at her pussy. While passionately stroking her legs and thighs with her clammy fingers, she voraciously inserted her darting tongue between the lips of her vagina, groping deftly into her simmering, yawning crack.

So I offered a heavenly vision of my arse-hole, being busily bent over sucking in the masked woman. It did not take long to feel a stiffened prick digging into me, and as I was certain that it was neither Karl nor Eric, I deduced, without turning around, that it was the stranger. As his rod slithered in and out, his hands busied about my backside, pinching and kneading it. All at once I felt him get out of me, and I saw that he had left me in order to get into Hilda, who was in the same position as myself. Then he abandoned her as well, and ripped into me anew. Three times he changed partners, then at last burst his tremendous ejaculation into my eagerly awaiting cunt.

I will not dwell longer on that night's orgy. All I will say is that there were two more people than usual, and that they were not the least active!

When we were again dressed, ready to go, Karl, who had drunk less than usual, as well as the others, spoke solemnly in a slightly hoarse voice:

"My friends this is, as you know, our last night together. My dear Monique, we shall all be truly sorry to leave you. In a few days, we shall be gone. The Allies are closing in on us. We have done our duty in Poland, in Italy, in Russia and then in France. Now we are going to try to defend our threatened Fatherland."

Eric chipped in:

"All is not finished yet."

"We have lost the war," said the masked man sadly.

Karl looked at him with deference and agreed:

"Our dream is over. The Third Reich has ceased to exist. But our sacred duty as patriots and soldiers is to fight on to the bitter end."

What an extraordinary man. Without any transition, he had become a noble human being, who hardly 15 minutes before had been wallowing in a frenzy of debauchery.

"Monique, you are the only stranger here. We are now going to bid you good-bye. We shall in all probability never see each other again, but I am sure I am speaking for all of us when I say that we wish you the best of luck from the bottom of our hearts."

Very touching indeed!

We left each other in silence. Only Karl kissed me, slipping an envelope in my bag, murmuring gently:

"Thank you, Monique, and adieu. I shall never forget you ... "

Several days afterwards, General Herman von Brentano stepped into my studio in the full paraphernalia of his rank.

He took my hand reverently:

"Monique, this is the last time I am going to see you. You know what has happened. The Allies are just outside Paris. My country is beaten. Although you are Belgian and I am German, perhaps you understand what my feelings are. My darling, I love you, love you passionately. You have filled my life with happiness. I know you are a realist, and I am sentimental, but you at least gave me the illusion of understanding me, and that was as much as I dared hope for."

I was also sincere when I interrupted him:

"You are wrong, Herman, I am really attached to you, and owe you a debt I can never repay."

"I know, and I could not ask for more. Monique, my dear child, adieu, and may God be with you!"

The General kissed me like a father, and it seemed to me that his sad blue eyes clouded for a moment.