something about hedwig potthast ! my girl needs some recognition :P
“You’re cuter when you can’t talk”
Two guys chilling in a command post, not five feet apart, and definitely gay
He shouldn’t enjoy it so much…
He knew it was unbecoming of him to enjoy it so much, that flustered red hot shame that crossed the haughty face of Himmler’s golden boy at the slightest insinuation that perhaps he was the one enjoying their little game too much. Just a prodding comment breathed into his ear as they boarded the train behind their masters. And it was only that, just a game. Like a cat with a cornered mouse, Wünsche relished the moment when the upper hand was seized and his prey was powerless and quivering with nervous energy at his feet. With Peiper looking up at him through his thick eyelashes, knees to the floor of a train compartment cramped with discarded overcoats and briefcases, Wünsche knew that he himself was enjoying that submissively anticipatory stare far too much, the tightness of his trousers was proof enough of that. The heat of the other man’s mouth against his cock and the flurry of desperate fingers at the closures brought a smirk to his lips that bared his teeth like a predator; his little mouse was enjoying their game and wanted more. In a sudden jerking movement, he yanked Peiper’s head back by a fist full of perfectly parted hair, the slighter man flushing at the sound of protest that rolled off his tongue that only made the blond’s smirk grow more feral. Just as suddenly, Wünsche released his hair, smoothing it down gently like one would a child, the smirk ever present as he surveyed the sight before him. “Oh, you are enjoying this aren’t you? Far too much, perhaps…” his voice trailed off as he shoved Peiper away, stepping around him coyly, buttoning and smoothing his uniform back to standard. It’s all a game. And as much as he enjoyed cornering the mouse, he enjoyed the power of leaving him in a heap, and so desperate to please, just that much more.
“You look like you’re going to a funeral!” “Who’s to say I’m not?”
Jeder Engel ist schrecklich
Afrikakorps sweaty panzer troops
You smile at me from the deep.
Bent over a desk
It wasn’t hard for him to press her against the conference table, her petite form overpowered by his hulking stature. He could feel her turn to putty under his nicotine-stained hands, and he could smell her already, her body betraying her horror but also her arousal.
It reminded him of his student days, when the greatest prize was to fuck a girl on the head table in the Kneipe, the one covered with the fraternity’s flag. He had done it many a time, not caring whether the other Burschen walked in on them or not. The floor would be sticky with spilled beer, the taxidermied fox would act as a voyeur from the top of the upright piano, and the sounds of the party would fade into the background as he took his pleasure from yet another pretty but nameless young woman.
His mind returned to the present then as the girl moaned against the mahogany tabletop – from delight or embarrassment he wasn’t sure. The others would be back at any moment, that they both knew, and it only served to make him fuck her harder, wishing he could tear the svelte Helferin’s uniform from her body and eat her bare flesh alive with his eyes.
Her perfect dark jacket was soiled as he came, not wishing to have another child on the way (not when he was already awaiting the arrival of extramarital twins), and she was a pathetic sight to behold as he did up his breeches. Slumped there, her legs shaking, used and sweating and gasping like some sort of animal.
He lit a Chesterfield, turning to enjoy a smoke break in the hall. Let the others come and find such an innocent little stenographer in such a state. “Heaven forbid they come back and see you like this.” he sneered, shutting the door behind him, knowing full well that she would still be there, still clear in her shame, when he and his colleagues returned.
Reichblr Ficathon 