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From: storyguy <storyguy62@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Normandy {storyguy62} (mf, interr, hist, rom)
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Date: Tue, 13 Apr 2004 18:10:05 -0400
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The last thing that Abraham Lincoln Tucker remembered
was a loud blast as the tank he was walking next to
hit another of Rommel's mines. The force of the blast
knocked him across the road and into a small grove of
trees, where his helmet protected him from a
potentially fatal injury. Instead of a fractured
skull, the impact of his head upon the tree merely
knocked him out. 

He awoke an unknown number of hours later to find
himself alone. Only the demolished tank and the bodies
of the men riding on it were there to keep him
company. He picked himself up, wiped the blood off his
face with his sleeve, and picking up his rifle, he
looked around, trying to get his bearings. 

"Well, Abe," he said to himself, "what the hell do you
do now?" He didn't know where the Allies were now, and
he certainly didn't want to run the risk of coming up
against the desperate soldiers of the Third Reich. The
only thing he could do is go the way he thought was
west and hope he found friendlies before he found the
enemy. 

The sun had begun to set over the lush French
countryside when he saw a farmhouse in the distance.
"Best hope they love DeGaulle more than they do
Vichy," he muttered, "or Mama Tucker's favorite son
might never make it back to Georgia." Not that
sharecropping was his life's dream, but it was the
best a black man in the South could hope for, and it
still beat the hell out of filling an unmarked grave
on an unknown hill in France. 

He moved toward the farmhouse, and it lifted his
spirits to see the French tricolor flying instead of
the Swastika. He didn't know much French, but at least
his US Army insignia might get him a meal or two and a
place to sack out for the night. 

The sound of angry voices reached him, coming from
just behind the farmhouse, and he didn't need to know
the language to know those were German voices, not
French. Unslinging his rifle from his shoulder, he
crept forward to see two ragged men in Wehrmacht
uniforms standing over a smaller figure, lying on the
ground. One of the Germans reached up and ripped the
tricolor from the pole and threw it onto the ground. 

Then the other German grabbed ahold of the figure on
the ground, and Abraham could see that it was a young
woman. 

"What the hell--?" he said as he saw one of the men
grab the woman's arms and hold her from behind. The
other man then began to fumble with his belt and the
intent became crystal clear. He rose to his feet and
began running. 

The two men were so focused on their own actions that
they were unaware of his presence until he lifted his
rifle and sent a bullet through the heart of the
soldier who by now had his pants around his ankles. He
dropped like a stone, and the other man dropped the
woman he was holding to bring his own weapon to bear
on the approaching American. 

Abraham fired at the second Nazi, his first two shots
missing as he was trying to be sure not to place the
woman in jeopardy. Then, as he prepared to fire again,
he felt a bullet ripped across his side. Swearing as
he dropped the rifle and fell to the ground, he
thought, "One more damned shot. Got to at least take
him with me." 

He then struggled to his knees and as the German's
next shot flew over his head, Abraham buried his shot
squarely in the man's chest. Then darkness closed in
around Abraham, and he fell to the ground. 

The scent of eggs cooking was the first thing he
became aware of as he came back to consciousness.
Looking around himself, he saw that he was in a simply
decorated bedroom. His shirt and coat were folded
neatly on the window sill.. 

"Where am I?" he muttered. "This sure as hell isn't an
aid station." Then he looked through the door to his
left and saw a young woman scurrying about the
kitchen. "And she's damn sure not a medic." 

The woman happened to glance up and saw that Abraham
was awake, and immediately, she came into the room. 

"You are awake again," she said with a pronounced
French accent. 

"How long was I out?" he asked. 

"Overnight," she said. "You are an American, yes?" 

"Abe Tucker," he said, "United States Army. Where am
I, anyway?" 

"You are in my home," she said. "But do not worry
about that now. You were wounded. Take some water, and
rest." 

Abraham tried to sit up, but the pain in his side
suggested otherwise, and he didn't resist when she
placed her hands on his chest and gently but
insistently pushed him down onto his back. 

She held a cup to his lips and he sipped a little bit
of it before letting his head fall back and closing
his eyes once again. 

For the rest of the day, this scene was repeated. She
periodically changed the bandages on his side and his
head and helped him to drink a little bit of water
each time. Most of the time he was awake, he saw her
sitting in the corner, humming quietly as she
stitched. 

"What is your name?"he asked. 

"I am Monique Duvallier," she said. 

"And you live here alone?" 

"Oui," she said. "It is not so uncommon in these
terrible days." 

"Where is your family?" 

"Gone," she said sadly. "Gone to fight in the war,
like so many others." Then putting the stitching down,
she came over to examine his side, and continued, "But
we bear it as best we can. Others have lost far more.
Now rest." 

She paused for a moment, and almost as an
afterthought, she bent over him, softly kissing his
forehead, before going to the kitchen to bring him
some soup. 

After a couple days, Abraham's strength had returned
enough to for her to be able to help him outside to
the porch, where he could sit in the sun while she
tended to what few chickens were left. 

"You know, I should probably be getting on," Abraham
said. "I don't see how you can keep yourself alive on
the food you've got, much less me too." 

She only smiled at him and said simply, "We will not
starve. But you are still not ready to leave and fight
again, so do not concern yourself. There will be time
enough for that on another day."" 

A couple more days passed, and the sound of distant
guns became less frequent. They saw no other soldiers,
but the farm was not near any major roads, or any
minor ones either, for that matter. 

Abraham began walking more, first around the house,
then around the outer buildings. When he became weary,
Monique would gently prod him to a chair or to bed,
repeating her gentle mantra, "Rest now." 

It was toward the end of the week when Abraham and
Monique were sitting on the porch in the evening. Over
the course of the evening, Abraham saw Monique
glancing over at him from time to time until she laid
her sewing down and said to him, "You are going to
leave soon, yes?" 

"Thinking about it," he answered. "War's not over yet,
and I need to be getting back to do my share." 

"I know," she said. "I could see it in your eyes." She
paused for a moment, a thoughtful look on her face,
then said, "Tell me something, Abraham Lincoln Tucker.
Where is your family?" 

"Back in Georgia," he said. "Sharecroppers on a
plantation." 

"You are married?" 

"No," he said with a trace of bitterness. "I had a
girlfriend, but when the war started, she said she
didn't want to be a widow and to look her up IF I made
it home." 

Shaking his head, as if to clear away the unpleasant
thoughts, he said, "Would you mind if I took a bath? I
must look like a mess." 

She smiled as she put down her stitching and said,
"You are alive and that is more than others can say.
Come with me." 

She helped him to his feet but she led him not to the
bathroom but to the bedroom. Seeing his quizzical
look, she said, "The bathtub would be difficult for
you to get into. I will warm some water and bathe
you." 

"Oh, but you don't need to- " he began before she
placed a finger on his lips to silence him. 

"I worked in a hospital at the beginning of the war,"
she said. "You are not the first soldier to need such
assistance." 

"Well," he said slowly, "If you're sure." 

"Oui, I am sure," she said. "I will be back shortly." 

When she returned, Abe had removed what was left of
his uniform and had covered himself up to the waist
with a sheet. Sitting next to the bed, she dipped a
cloth into the warm water and began to gently wash his
chest, careful to not disturb the bandage on his side.
He closed his eyes and lost himself in his thoughts as
she worked her way along his upper body and arms. 

Then, without expecting it, he felt her hand slide
under sheet and begin to work the cloth gently across
his hip and his thigh. He looked up at her and she
said quietly, "Pardon moi, but there is but one way to
wash." With that, she lifted the sheet off him
entirely and gasped, "Mon dieu!" There, nestled
between his legs, was his manhood, a good 6" long
while soft. 

"I'm sorry -" he began, but she interrupted him with,
"No, I am sorry. I did not mean to embarrass you. I
have simply not seen such a ... " She let her words
die off as she washed his legs, first the left and
then the right, her eyes never leaving his shaft. In
time, her attention had the expected effect, and by
the time she had worked her way up to his other hip,
his cock had stiffened to its full 9". Both Monique
and Abe were breathing a little bit harder as she
moved the cloth between his legs and began to gently
wash his balls. Abe moaned softly and closed his eyes
again, revelling in the sensation. 

Then the cloth began to move its way up along the
underside of his shaft, causing the first droplets to
appear at the tip of the head. Abe opened his eyes as
the sensation changed, and discovered that the warmth
enveloping the head of his cock was neither her hand
or the cloth but her mouth. Slowly and insistently,
she took the entire head between her lips, circling it
with her tongue as her hand, now free of the cloth,
gently moved up and down the underside and
occasionally dipping down to caress his balls. 

"Oh, god, Monique, you're going to make me - " and she
placed the finger of her free hand upon his lips as
she began sucking him more fervently. He reached his
hand out to begin to caress her back through her
dress, and his touch seemed to invigorate her even
more. Her lips left the head momentarily as she traced
her tongue down along the underside of his shaft and
across his balls and his moaning became more
pronounced. 

His hips trembled slightly, and she immediately moved
to take as much of his cock as she could into her
mouth again and a few seconds later, he cried out as
his cock began to shoot, filling her mouth with his
cum as she hungrily swallowed what she could. She
didn't let up until he had finished, and then her
tongue began lapping up all the cum that she could
that had leaked out of her lips. 

She then leaned back and looked at him with a mixture
of embarassment and desire in her eyes. 

"I hope you don't think badly of me, Abe," she said,
"but I could not help myself. I've never seen - " 

It was Abe's turn to place his finger on her lips to
silence her and he said, "I don't think badly of you
at all, Monique. It's been a long time. What about
you, though? Can I please you as well as you have
pleased me?" 

The embarassment in her eyes faded and left only
passion as she stood and began to unbutton her dress,
her eyes locked with his. As the dress fell to her
feet, all that remained were a pair of white cotton
panties with a noticable damp spot between the legs.
Before she could remove them, he took her hand and
pulled her down on to the bed next to him. He then
lowered his lips to her stiffened left nipple and
began to lick and suck on it as he slipped his hand
between her legs and underneath the panties to begin
gently rubbing his fingertip back and forth along the
length of her moist lower lips. 

Monique began murmuring softly in French as she pushed
her hips forward onto Abe's fingers and pulled his
face more firmly onto her breast. He began to circle
her nipple with his tongue and in sync with his
tongue, he circled her clit with his finger. The dual
sensation caused Moniquie to cry out as she began to
cum, pouring her juices across his hand and soaking
her panties. After a moment she pushed his head away
and pulled his hand from her pussy, and leaning
forward, she kissed him deeply and wetly and hungrily.


"Mon Dieu, no man has done that to me before, Abe
Tucker," she sighed. "How do you feel?" 

"On top of the world, Monique," he said, "on top of
the world, and with that, he kissed her as hungrily as
she had kissed him. 

"Mmmm," she purred as she slid her hand down to find
that his cock was once again hard and fully extended.
"He wishes to play some more." 

"He sure does, Monique," Abe agreed. "But I don't know
if I can, with my side like it is." 

She quickly slipped off her panties and straddled his
legs with her. "Let me do the work, Abe Tucker," she
said as she rubbed her pussy back and forth along the
length of his cock. 

He groaned softly as she continued covering his cock
with her juices and then she lifted up, and holding
his cock in her hand, she slowly lowered herself upon
it. 

"Oh, my god," Abe moaned, "That feels incredible!" 

"Ohhhhhh, oui, incredible for me too," she whispered,
as she continued to lower herself. "I cannot believe
it will all go into me." 

He reached up to caress her nipples as she took yet
another inch inside herself. "Yessss, play with them,
your touch is fantastique, mmmmm," she moaned, and
then both moved beyond the ability to speak. 

She took half of his cock into her pussy before
reversing course and lifting up until he was almost
out of her. Then she lowered herself again, taking a
bit more this time. She repeated this a number of
times until, to his surprise and her amazement, she
was resting on him, his entire length filling her. 

"Oh, Abe," she whispered, "you feel divine inside me."


Abe moaned and said, "Oh, it can't feel as good as
your pussy feels on me." 

She began to lift again, and then she began moving
slowly up and down, his black shaft contrasting
against her pale white thighs. Abe tried desperately
to let her do the moving, but in a very short amount
of time, he was thrusting up with his hips as she
pushed down with hers. Despite the fact that they both
had cum so powerfully once, the stimulation of his
large shaft within her small pussy was strong enough
that, before they knew it, they were on the verge of
cumming again. 

Monique began cumming first, crying out loudly, and
her body shook as the waves of her orgasm began to
sweep across her. That was all it took for Abe to join
her. He thrust up one time, and buried deep within
her, his cock began to swell, spasm, and fire, his cum
mixing with hers, and his cock filling her so
completely that there was no place for their mixed
juices to go but to leak out around his cock and
saturate his balls and the sheets beneath them. 

And then they were still, Monique laying forward on
top of him, her lips finding his as she held his cock
within her until it softened and slid out on its own.
Her hands caressed his body beneath her, until she
reached the bandage of his wound, and feeling
moisture, she looked down and saw a trickle of blood
coming from beneath the cloth. 

Immediately, she lifted herself off of him, ran to the
pot of now lukewarm water and began to wipe away the
blood. Peeling off the bandage, she saw that his wound
had only reopened a little bit, and she quickly
cleaned it and replaced the cloth with a fresh one.
Then, satisfied that the wound was tended to, she
climbed over his body and nestled under his arm, her
head on his shoulder. 

*************************** 

Within a week, the real world intruded on the little
farmhouse, as a group of American soldiers reached the
farmhouse, fortunately finding Abe and Monique sitting
quietly at the dining room table. A corpsman examined
Abe's wound and said, "A nice piece of doctoring,
Ma'am." 

An hour later, she was sitting back on a stool in
front of the chicken coop, when she felt two hands on
her shoulders, and without looking, she said, "You
have to leave, yes?" 

Abe wrapped his arms around her, buried his face in
her neck before saying, "Only until this damn war is
over." 

She leaned back against him, pulling his arms more
tightly around her. 

"I knew that this time would not be forever, but
somehow, it does not make it any easier to see it
end," she said softly as she choked back a sob. 

He brushed the tear from her cheek and said, "The war
won't last forever, and then I'll be back, Monique." 

She stood and turned, slipping her arms around his
waist, and said, "Do not make promises that the war
may stop you from keeping. Only promise that you will
remember me as I will you." 

He kissed her softly and said, "Always." 

*************************** 

The war did eventually end, but before it did, Abe was
wounded again, more seriously than before, and this
time, he was sent back to the States to a veteran's
hospital in Atlanta. He didn't say much about his time
in Europe, but everyone noticed the wistful look in
his eyes when he was left with his own thoughts. 

After he got out of the hospital, he returned to the
plantation, but within 6 months, he said goodbye to
his family and left to go north. A buddy of his from
basic training had offered him a job in New York, and
he worked hard, living simply and saving what money he
could. In April of 1950, he found himself staring
again at the Atlantic Ocean across the rails of a ship
bound for Europe. He only spent two days in London
before he boarded a ferry to cross the English
Channel. Abe was the first one off the boat. 

Two weeks later, he was walking through a grove of
trees, scanning the horizon until he saw a farmhouse.
He picked up his pace until he reached the outer
buildings. He saw a little girl playing with her doll
in the yard behind the house, and not wanting to scare
her, he called out, "Bon jour!" 

The child looked up and said, "Bon jour, Monsieur." 

He thumbed through his small French dictionary until
the child said, "You are American?" 

He looked up, smiled and said, "Yes, I am. How did you
know?" 

"You do not speak French very good," she said simply. 

"Do you live here?" he asked. 

"Oui, my mama and I." 

 From inside the house a familiar voice spoke to the
child in French and as the door opened, Abe turned and
saw Monique, still dressed in a simple cotton dress.
Her eyes opened wide and she ran down the steps and
across the yard to throw herself into his arms. 

"I did not think I would ever see you again," she
said, sobbing quietly into his shoulder. 

He held her and whispered, "I made myself a promise
that if I lived through the war, I'd find you again,
no matter how long it took. And here I am." 

They simply held each other for a time until the
little girl said, "Mama, who is he?" 

Monique looked down at the girl, smiled and said,
"Abe, this is Marie. Marie, this is your papa." 

Abe's eyes opened wide and then he kissed Monique
again. Then he bent to lift Marie into his arms and
the three of them held each other. As if they had been
meant to. As they would for many many years to come.  


	
		
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Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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