The Airman and the Farm-Girl Ch. 02

The coach carrying the services reunion tour trundled through the forestry as Roger gazed out of the window. The concrete road was endlessly long and he could not recognise any features of the countryside which was flat and monotonous with the occasional village and farm. The rhythmic thumping of the tyres against the joins in the road surface struck a chord and he started humming a tune in time to the beat. The daylight faded and then he could see little of the land.

Behind him there was a low babble of chatter which quietened as the vehicle entered a town square and slowed to a stop. The men rose and shuffled in their brightly polished shoes to the door; all were wearing smart blazer jackets with medal ribbons. They collected suitcases from the side of the vehicle before making their way to the front door of a nearby hotel. Flags hung limply from poles above the entrance, Roger recognised the banner of the Royal Air Force and the national flag of the country, others were of a variety of crests that he didn't recognise.

The local mayor was waiting resplendent with a gold chain over his stout belly but with dusty shoes, he noticed. Some speeches were made to welcome the heroes who had fought for the country and liberated it from the occupying forces, but soon Roger was able to enter the hotel and locate his allocated room. An evening meal was served in the dining room and due to the late hour he adjourned to bed.

The next day he was able to explore the tiny village and try to recognise the landmarks. After a couple of hours he found himself climbing a low hill with an area of woodland to the side. He strode more confidently as he saw a tumble of fallen stones at the side of a field, then an old farm in the distance. It was the place he was sure, he now recognised the whole scene as he looked all around. There before him was the farmhouse where he had stayed with two women for several months risking inevitable capture.

As he neared the buildings a dog barked and a woman stood in a doorway and stared with hostility. He approached her and spoke hesitantly. "Good day, do you live here?"

The woman replied, but in the local language that he could barely understand when he had lived there. Now, after the years of disuse it was unintelligible.

He tried again, asking if the woman remembered a girl and old lady who used to live there. However the woman was not helpful, she spoke no English and eventually he politely thanked her for her time and returned to the village.

Back in the hotel, he rejoined his companions for luncheon. The men were to stay in the hotel for another night; in the afternoon a visit was organised to a nearby wartime camp, a highlight of the trip. The camp was notorious; the place where many people had met their end in horrific circumstances.

As he sat in the dining room and waited whilst cold meats were served by waitresses in white blouses and frilly aprons with their hair tied back in severe buns. Roger found himself idly watching the backside of one of them enclosed in a tight black skirt as it moved amongst the tables. The firm buttocks swivelled beneath the thin material, showing the tantalising lines of underwear. Then the waitress turned to him and stood still.

He looked up at her wondering if she had a question - or had noticed him checking out her ass. But she was stationary, staring into his eyes. Then he saw the face that he had sought; a little older, more care-worn, but the girl from the farmhouse in that bygone era was standing before him looking as if she had seen a ghost. Slowly the plate that she was holding tipped over until the slice of processed ham fell silently to the floor.

* * *

She sat quickly on a vacant chair facing him. "It is you, come back," she said, tears welling in her eyes.

"Yes," he replied. "I came to see you again."

Suddenly she moved and was in his arms. There were no words between them but he became aware of a voice shouting behind. It was the owner of the hotel, the mayor who had welcomed the party earlier.

The woman jumped away and picked up the fallen piece of meat. She ran off with it to the kitchen and the hotelier quietened.

Roger sat at his table and waited, and soon she returned with a fresh plate. "I see you afterwards. I can't speak now." She scurried away and he ate his scanty meal silently, nervously anticipating the continuation of the reunion so briefly interrupted.

After the food was eaten he rose and left the room, then he found that she was following him up the stairs. He turned and faced the girl; she spoke first. "I have waited for you to return, I was afraid it would never happen."

He took her hand and led her into his room. They sat on the bed holding hands and he saw the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I'm so happy, I thought I'd never see you again," she whispered.

"I was sent to a prison camp hundreds of miles away after I was captured, and since I was repatriated home I've been running the shop in my village. I never married; never met anyone to compare with you. I've been trying to get back to this area to find you again, now here I am," he explained. "What happened to you?"

"My Grandmother and I were taken by the Gestapo, she saved me by saying that it was just her that looked after you in the farm. She disappeared, I never saw her again. Afterwards I had to live with friends in the village, I had nowhere to live. The farm was taken from us, I could not go back there."

Roger raised his hand and stroked her greying hair, suddenly she was in his arms embracing him and he could feel her wet cheeks against his face. She pushed him backwards on the bed so that he was looking up at her ample breasts and he heard two light thumps as her shoes fell to the floor.

"Are we allowed to know each other's names now?" he smiled. Previously they had decided that it would be safer for all if they never knew each other's identity.

"We are safer now, so I expect we may; I am Justine."

"Finally after all this time, I can tell you that I am Roger." He traced his fingers around her face and wiped away her tears, then continued slowly downwards over her neck and shoulders. "Justine. A pretty name, a pity that I never knew it before."

"They were dangerous times, it was necessary." She hitched her knees up so that she was kneeling over him and placed her palms on his ribs, stroking him up to his shoulders and down his arms, feeling his muscles.

She reached up and unpinned her hair. The locks fell free around her face as she leaned forwards and unbuttoned his shirt so that she could run her fingernails down his body, leaving faint red lines on his pale skin. She took his head in her hands and kissed him deeply, gripping her knees around his hips. "Such a long time, I thought you would never return. But it is you."

Roger lifted his hands and supported her breasts, feeling her brassiere. He slowly unfastened her blouse and she shrugged it away. Then she pressed herself to him so that he was able to unclasp the rear of the bra which fell loose as she sat upright again. Her breasts fell to his hands naturally, as she pressed her groin against the rising hardness beneath her.

He felt the soft flesh in his palms, heavier but almost as firm as he remembered. The nipples were darker and larger but then she leaned over him, her body was against his face and her scent was in his nostrils transporting his memory back to those distant, heady months before their sudden separation.

He felt her hands loosening his trousers and grasping his cock as he came to be fully erect. Then she eased herself up and he felt himself being enveloped inside her soft warm moistness. He could feel the tight edge of her underwear against him and he realised that she had eased her panties to one side rather than waste time removing them. She sank slowly down to feel him deep inside before moving quickly, grinding and humping. When she arched her back and threw herself backwards to feel him more firmly, she came explosively and then fucked him furiously, trying to maintain the orgasm endlessly. Then he came, spurting a steady flow into her.

Afterwards he lay still catching his breath whilst she still moved her hips against his softening penis, trying to prolong the moment. She kept him inside as she bent down to embrace him, her breasts crushed against his chest.

Eventually he slipped from her and they separated. Still lying facing each other, she adjusted her panties and skirt to cover herself but leaving her top comfortably exposed. He lay with his trousers undone to his knees, his cock flaccid but still enlarged.

"So, Justine. Tell me what happened. Why did you lose the farm?"

"That was always what happened. It was wartime, we were betrayed. The collaborator was rewarded with the property of the person caught, that was all."

"Who lives there now?"

"The same man, with his family. He became rich and powerful in the war, he owns the hotel, everything."

"The fat man? The mayor?"

"Yes that is the one," replied Justine. "He was able to purchase even the mayor's office by corruption and favours to his friends."

"Why do you stay here, working for him?"

"Where else can I go? I have no means, nowhere to go. If I did not work at the hotel I would starve in the forest. Besides, I have been waiting for your return."

Roger sat up. "I will kill him, I will return your farm to you. The bastard, he won't get away with this."

Justine laughed bitterly. "All you will achieve is to go to prison, Anyway I don't want the farm. It was hard work and I don't have the strength for it now. The hotel is much easier, even if I have to put up with him feeling my bottom every time I am bending over. He is a pig, he makes all the staff wear tight clothes so that he can look at us. His wife must be stupid."

She swept her hair back with her fingers and inserted some pins to fix the bun again, glancing in the bedside mirror. She stood, collecting her bra and blouse which she held in her hand. "I have to go, I'm a sticky mess."

Standing, her breasts were a little lower than when she was young when those fine tits had been high and tight, her stomach had lost the tautness of youth and hung ever so slightly over the waistband of her skirt with its apron still fastened. But she still looked good, the fire still burned in her eyes and she held his gaze.

"If you wish to bathe, you can use the bathroom here," he offered.

"I would not do that." Her eyes burned into his. "I will keep what is from you. It is with me for a purpose."

"What do you mean? I am confused." Roger leaned forwards.

"When I was imprisoned they interrogated me and I was beaten of course. I had little to tell so the beatings continued. I lost the baby that I was carrying. Since then I have always wished to carry your child once more." Justine revealed the news without blinking.

Roger was stunned to silence. After a long pause he spoke up "That's what you were telling me when you were rubbing your stomach as the guards took you away."

"Yes," she replied. "I was so pleased to be carrying your child, I could not bear for you not to know. One day I will carry again and give a son or daughter to you. Perhaps soon."

She quietly dressed, replacing the bra, blouse and shoes. Then she left the room and closed the door behind her.

* * *

Roger walked downstairs to the lobby. The rest of his party had left without him to continue with the itinerary of the day so he was left to his own devices. That would teach him to get laid at lunchtime on a guided tour, he thought. The TV was on but the volume was turned down and in any case he would have been unable to understand it, so he ordered a coffee at the bar and sat outside at a table under a tree to watch the world pass by.

A while later he found himself being joined by Justine, who had changed out of her uniform and was now wearing a flimsy flowing skirt and loose top, with high heels. She sat next to him at the table and spoke. "Roger, can you take me with you?"

"What do you mean, where to?"

"To England. I want to leave this place, there is nothing for me here."

He was surprised. "I don't know. I'll have to think how it can be done."

"I hate this place, I have friends but I need to get away, but I have no money and on my wages it is impossible to save."

He thought briefly. "I'll make some arrangements if you really want to. Pack your bags, we leave in the morning."

"I have nothing. I share a room in the staff quarters, I can go now, I don't care. One more night here in this town is too many." She was trembling.

"What is it that you're not telling me? There's something else."

"It is the mayor, the pig. He makes me shudder. I always have to make the soup for his supper, he will put his hand up my skirt in the kitchen and touch me. I have to touch him back, if I refuse he will fire me and there is no other work. Always he find fault with the soup, too hot, too cold, not enough salt, Then he will demand that I touch him again to make him happy. I am a slave here, there is no escape"

Roger sat silently. Then he spoke again "I'll sort it out, you can stay in my room tonight, then tomorrow we'll get you on the coach."

She stood. "I'll hide in your room now, it is quiet and there is no-one to see."

They walked through the lobby and up to the room again. When the door was closed Justine kicked off her shoes and lay down on the bed, arms outstretched and looking at the ceiling. "Thank you, I feel safe with you." She paused. "These are my only clothes now, I must look after them."

She sat up and with swift movements stripped off the blouse and skirt before lying back down, suddenly naked; there was no sign of any underwear. Her luxuriant bush of dark pubic hair contrasted with her alabaster skin with her full breasts still managing to point their nipples skyward. Her legs were parted revealing glimpses of her labia and her arms were outspread, showing dark curls of hair underneath.

Roger looked at her. "Is that all you're wearing? It will be a long journey."

"I'll manage, I only have worn-out underclothes and uniform, it is all the boss will give me. I don't wish to take anything that he has provided. I would die first."

"So you want to live in England? There will be differences."

"Such as?"

"It is usual and fashionable for women to remove the hair under their arms, for a start." Roger smiled. "Do you have a passport, otherwise you'll have to be smuggled across."

"I will be English lady. I have no passport but I can take away the hair." Justine jumped to her feet and strode to the bathroom.

Roger followed her to the doorway as she picked up his razor from the sink. She started to scrape away under her armpits and Roger stopped her. He showed her how to lather up shaving foam and shave smoothly without cutting herself. When she was done she put her arms around his neck and kissed. Resting her head on his chest, she sighed. "Please make it happen, I want to come with you to England. I cannot stay two more nights here."

He led her back to the bed and lay her down, covering her nakedness with the sheet. However when she moved slightly the sheet fell down, showing her breasts once more. She was entirely unconcerned at the exposure so he sat beside her and gently stroked the soft flesh as the nipple rose to his touch.

Eventually she closed her eyes at the soothing movement and then he realised that she was asleep.

He continued with the caresses, enjoying the feel of her warm skin until his arm tired. When he stilled however, she woke immediately. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he relied. "But it's getting late, dinner will be served downstairs and if I don't appear they might send a search party."

"You must go," she sighed. "If you can bring back a piece of fruit for me that will be good."

She moved the sheet away from her body and then took his hand, placing it in the soft hairy curls below her belly. "Make sure that you are ready for me when you return," she murmured.

* * *

Roger entered the room silently and watched her for a moment. Justine was sleeping under the thin sheet, the outline of her body clearly visible and her ribs rising and falling with every breath.

He undressed and went to the bathroom for a shower, when he returned with a towel wrapped around his waist she was leaning on her side watching him. He combed his damp hair and sat next to her, reaching for the banana that he had brought. She took the fruit and with a salacious smile slid it gently between her labia, spreading her thighs widely. She positioned herself so that he had a clear view, then inserted the tip just a fraction into her opening. Then she stopped, teasing him. She stripped back the peel and ate it hungrily, throwing the waste into the bin before lying back down.

Roger started to idly comb her pubic hair so that it was fluffed up and glossy. When he found a small tangle in the hair deep between her legs she winced at the tug, then he gently managed to free the curls.

She removed his towel from his waist and fondled his testicles with a feather-light touch until he felt ready to burst. She pulled back the skin of his cock to reveal his glans, then held him steady. "What are the plans for tomorrow?"

"I called a meeting with the boys downstairs, we've got it all covered. They're all well up for a job, it'll be like the old times. We'll get you onto the coach, the driver is all part of it and we'll get you across the channel without any problem. You'll never see the mayor again."

"That is good news, I will be happy again wherever we go."

She stroked his cock and placed his hand to cup her pussy. When she had spread her legs comfortably, she took his middle finger and pressed it into her vagina so that he slid into her deeply. She sighed and wriggled her hips against his touch, then by reaching behind herself she adjusted his other fingers into the cleft between her buttocks. He could feel the muscular ridges of her other opening and she did not object when he commenced to move against it.

They kissed passionately and at length until she pulled him close and replaced his hand with his cock. They made love gently for a while, then she twisted around for him to enter from behind, and he could see her pussy lips wrapped around him, stretching around his penis with every thrust.

She made sure that his finger was able to enter her most sensitive opening and he was able to feel himself through the membrane separating the two passages. Eventually as she pushed back against him for maximum penetration, he came and expelled himself deeply inside her body.

He softened quickly and withdrew. Exhausted by his exertions, Roger slumped back and shortly fell asleep as she knelt, watching his peaceful face.

* * *

When he woke, it was dark and he was alone. He patted the mattress around him but could not feel her presence. After a long wait, he heard the door open gently and then her body was next to him once more, strangely chilled to his touch.

They embraced and slept in each others arms.

* * *

In the morning Roger awoke again with the sun streaming through the thin curtains. They both showered, soaping each other's crevices. Later, he left for breakfast, returning with a toast and marmalade sandwich concealed inside his shirt for her.

He packed his small suitcase while she dressed in her meagre outfit and quietly they left the room. She found that a group of men were waiting to surround her as she left the premises and she was able to board the coach which waited directly outside. Soon the party was all aboard and they departed, on a long journey to a ferry-port. There was a space concealed under the floor, which held a bed for a spare driver where she was able to hide during brief customs and immigration checks.