Verena 2
By Gersheimer gersheimer77@seznam.cz
A war-time romance; an improbable but true story. Part 2

1943: Escaped French pilot rescued by a huge German woman - his future wife. 
 
"Wake up, sleepyhead, now you really must wake up!" was what Raynal heard next, 
before opening his eyes. He was lying on a heap of rugs and carpets on the floor next 
to an iron bathtub and Verena was shaking him. She smiled when seeing him awake and 
continued: "It's late afternoon, but Wednesday, not Tuesday. You have slept over 30 
hours continuously! I was scared that you might have died and tried to wake you up 
several times, but it wasn't possible. The tub here is full; you can wash yourself and 
then just wrap yourself into one of the blankets there and call me. Yes, clothing will 
be a problem; I don't have any clothes in the house apart from mine and my late husband's, 
who was the same height as me, and these would be no use for you." She smiled at him 
again and planted a kiss on his forehead before turning and leaving the bathroom.

There was even a mirror and that was where Raynal suffered the greatest shock when he 
disrobed. 'Truly, a walking skeleton would be rather an understatement,' he reasoned. 
"I never wanted to wear a moustache but now I wear a full beard. And how incredibly 
dirty I am. How come this woman didn't run away from me in disgust?' 

He quickly got into the lukewarm water and used up a whole bar of soap rubbing it 
furiously all around his body, including hair. There was another pot of warm water so 
when he was finished, he re-filled the tub, flushing away water almost totally black, 
and repeated the procedure once more. After that, he finally felt like a new person. 
Then he got out, wrapped a bed blanket lying nearby around him like a Roman toga and 
called Verena's name.

She opened the door and that's when Raynal, for the first time, really experienced the 
enormous size difference between them -- and more. With both of them finally standing 
upright barefoot toe-to-toe, he was basically looking below her enormous breasts that 
were almost tearing her dark blue shirt apart. The shirt was anyway too short, leaving 
her lower abs visible; these were flat and visibly hard. Its sleeves were rolled up to 
her elbows and Raynal realized that Verena's muscular forearms are probably thicker than 
his own weakened thighs now, not to mention his bony arms, that were now the thickest 
in his elbow joint. 'What her upper arms and shoulders must look like,' he wondered. 
'Moreover, what immense strength must this body contain.' Even her hands seemed to be 
at least twice as big as his, the same with her shapely feet. Raynal, son of a shoemaker 
from the little French town of Pontarlier in the Jura Mountains, estimated them easily 
over size 55. On her legs she wore brown trousers, probably out of a foresters' uniform, 
which were, strangely, perfectly sized.

She took his hand gently in hers and let him to a dinner table. There was a pot of hot 
herb tea, a glass of honey, bread and another pot full of steaming hot soup. "Take your 
time, Jean -- can I call you that? Don't eat too hastily, it might even kill you. Use 
all of the honey if you want, it is the best for people left long hungry. Only then I 
would like to hear your story and we will find out how possibly I could help you." 
While he sat at the table on a normal-size chair, Verena sat next to him on the hardwood 
floor and, incredibly, their eyes were almost at the same level. She looked at him 
encouragingly.

Raynal followed her advice and took a long time between bites of bread and spoons of 
soup, describing his life since childhood through secondary school in Pontarlier, after 
which he entered the armed forces and started attending pilot school. Then the eight 
months of "Phony War" in 1939 and 1940, and then the degrading Blitzkrieg conquest of 
France in May and June 1940, when Raynal shot down four German bombers during the 
first week of the offensive, but then was downed himself and didn't manage it back to 
the right side of the fast-moving frontline. And then his miserable life in POW camps 
and the last escape itself, with his hopes to make it to neutral Switzerland and then 
perhaps to continue fighting for France again.

Verena listened carefully and after a long period of silence she softly spoke: "You are 
really an extraordinary man. I would be happy to help you. You are lucky, because I am 
originally a miller's daughter from Lorrach in Baden, and that place is just across the 
Swiss border near Basel. I know every tree and stone there from my childhood and I will 
be traveling there anyway in the upcoming Christmas time, to see my parents. I hope to 
be able to find a way to get you there with me. There are harsh police controls on every 
train and in every major town now, and you haven't got any personal papers.

"Once you get there, it will be as easy as a promenade -- from my father's mill you see a 
steep hill some five kilometers away, topped by a radio mast. The border runs across it; 
the mast is on Swiss soil and there are some barracks below, and from there you will see 
the free town of Basel, five kilometers further away.

"I will tell you more about me soon, but now I have to go feed my little twins, I hear 
them crying already," said Verena before rising and walking into adjacent room from 
where actually some baby's crying could be heard. 'What?!?' thought Raynal. 'This 
incredible woman has two little babies and still she is ready to help an unknown enemy 
soldier in flight while she must know that the Nazis regularly punish such a help with 
death penalty?!? No, I can't do that. I will leave this place yet tonight.' He stood up, 
following Verena to the other room to tell her about his resolution.

The serene picture that awaited him sent him almost to his knees. Verena was sitting at 
the edge of a large bed, and two baby girls, maybe a little over one year old, were sucking 
simultaneously at her bare breasts that looked bigger than his own head. Her shirt was 
away and he saw now also Verena's wide and muscular shoulders and arms. Apart from 
that though, she looked like a Madonna with her angelic face and long wavy hair.

Above the bed he saw some photos. There was a bearded man of the same height as 
Verena in forester's uniform, while all the other guests were at least a head smaller. 
Then there were a few photos of the two newlyweds alone, then of Verena pregnant, and 
then one of the husband in German military uniform.

She smiled. "Meet Frederika and Johanna, aren't they beautiful? They are all that 
remained when three months ago I received a note that Hubert, my husband, had been 
killed in Russia. That's him," she said, pointing at one of the photographs, with 
glint in her eyes.

"I am just an ordinary girl, as you can see," continued Verena with an ironic smile. 
"Only I was always a bit big and strong; sixty centimeters at birth, 150 at six, two 
meters at thirteen and 220 at the wedding. I think I still continue growing a little 
bit, but I don't care. After school at fourteen, I started to help in my father's mill; 
I was already the strongest one in the family, but then a nice change came in the 
summer of '37, when I was sixteen.

"A circus came to Lorrach and my friends tricked me into challenging the circus 
strongman. He seemed to take it a little too easy; even though I had never wrestled 
before, I had him pinned to the ground in twenty seconds. Then he demanded a rematch, 
in front of all the audience, and this time he fought very dirty. I understood later 
that his job was at stake. But I grew angry then and pinned him again, breaking both 
of his collarbones. And then, on the spot, the director of the circus offered me to 
assume the strongman's post. I was enthusiastic and, even though my parents weren't 
quite happy with this, they finally agreed.

"Then I spent two and a half seasons with the circus. Its people were nice to me and I 
liked it a lot. They made me somehow their biggest attraction; I even earned a nice pack 
of money. We were traveling mostly through Alsace and southern France ? that's where I 
learned a bit of French. A week before the war broke out in '39, we had fortunately just 
crossed the border to Switzerland and thus, everyone of the all-nation circus crew was 
able to return home after the season. But my circus career was over. Next year, some 
people put me together with Hubert, a sixth or seventh generation of an old family of 
Black Forest foresters -- and, most importantly -- a man of the same height as me. He was 
quite nice and I grew into liking him. However, some time later, he seemed not to take it 
well when he found out that I was, in fact, a lot stronger then him.

"At least the wedding was a great spectacle. There were a lot of high-ranking guests, 
photographers, journalists and so on, one even from America. We were some kind of 
local celebrities then -- the tallest man and woman of Germany. But the interest of 
strange people steadily became unpleasant. However, people soon forgot about us. It was 
in summer of '40, and the war was in a lull. Hubert was exempted from military service 
at that time and we led a happy life, despite the circumstances.

"Living in the forest, away from people and their curious looks, seemed fine. However, 
all changed last year in spring. Half a year after I got pregnant, Hubert was drafted. 
After first defeats in Russia there was a need for new soldiers. He had never seen our 
babies and only four months later I received notice of his demise. I didn't believe and 
thought that he might finish in captivity and appear suddenly after the war, but then 
his friend who was with him confirmed that he saw Hubert shot and helped burying his body.

"I decided to assume his job so I wouldn't be forced to leave the secluded life. It wasn't 
easy to persuade the Forest Service heads that I could do it, but there were no other 
candidates for the post anyway, as everyone was in the army. I took on Hubert's uniform 
and his tasks, such as feeding the game and maintaining the trails. When the babies were 
born, my mother-in-law at first came to live with me to help me with them, but some 
weeks ago, her husband, also an active forester on the opposite side of the mountains, fell 
ill and she had to return home to care for him." Verena slowly finished feeding and put 
the toddlers one by one back to the crib, caressing their heads.

"Verena, you are crazy," said Raynal finally. "Amazing, intelligent, beautiful, tender 
and desirable, but crazy. What you are doing is a suicide, not only for you but also 
for your babies. You must know that any aid to enemy soldiers is punished with death 
in present Germany. Think of your babies and let me leave."

"No, no; how ever can I let such a nice flattering little man go away?" said Verena 
smiling. Then, in a more serious tone, she continued: "You would freeze the next day in 
the present weather. There are now snowstorms outside, at minus eight to ten. And you 
needn't be afraid for me; I am not alone, people from the Black Forest always helped 
each other."

Raynal wasn't convinced, but decided not to contradict her now. Verena also went to eat 
supper and then she motioned him to the bed. "Now, you can sleep with me if you are not 
scared of me," she said and started to disrobe. Her body, despite its size, would pass at 
any beauty contest should there be one in the wartime. She was in fact slim, with a flat 
and hard tummy, her shoulders wide and capped with muscles and veins, and her breasts 
more than proportionate to her enormous stature, with one inch nipples rising from big 
brown aureoles.

Raynal was excited, but in a different way than might be expected. After all, he had spent 
over three years in POW camps without seeing a woman at all. But he was also exhausted 
and starved half to death and wasn't sure what his body would be capable of in its present 
state. However, he was resolute at least to somehow repay Verena's kindness to him.

He started with a hand and foot massage that itself seemed to bring the big woman close 
to the edge of an orgasm. She then started kissing him vigorously and guided his hands to 
her big boobs. He caressed them for a long time and then, amazingly, his member started 
to come to life, too. She took notice of this and guided it to her private areas. In that 
position, his head was directly between her boobs, which he kept kissing and licking. His 
member was already pulsating and in a short while he was close to cumming.

That's where the world suddenly went black for him. His next feeling was being shaken 
vigorously and Raynal opened his eyes. "Don't you ever do that again! I mean, passing 
out in my loving embrace," said Verena with tears in her eyes. "I was really scared about 
you!" 

"Take notice, please, of my exhausted state," Raynal defended himself. 

Yes, I know, I was only joking. Anyway, I enjoy the French art of loving more and more 
every second!" said Verena. 

"Speaking of which, I surely should present you more, ma belle," smiled Raynal, before 
moving his mouth to Verena's lower orifices and starting to work with his tongue, 
driving her to yet many peaks that night.

Finally Verena fell soundly asleep and Raynal sat on the edge of the bed and assessed the 
situation. He was terribly torn between his heart and reason. 'What an amazing 
experience, after the years in captivity and almost freezing during flight! Did I really 
make an impression on her too? If only the cursed war didn't make my presence so 
threatening for her! Am I really starting to love her?' Those were the ideas running 
through his mind. Then reason kicked in and he stood up. 'No, it's all impossible. I 
cannot put her through the risk for her life and life of her children. Even if I freeze to 
death yet tomorrow, it would be better than if she is exposed and executed.' He took a 
last look at the beautiful babies in the crib, as well as at Verena's sleeping face, and 
snuck out through the bedroom door.

A cuckoo clock on the wall showed three a.m. and, in an almost complete darkness, 
Raynal put on his "toga" and began looking for possible other pieces of clothing. His 
own clothes were not to be found. Apart from the forester's uniform there were two 
extra-long overcoats and Raynal took on one of them, mumbling excuses to Verena. On 
his small body it was ridiculously big; sleeves over 30 centimetres too long and its lower 
edge almost on the ground. Then he looked for his shoes and didn't find them either. He 
tried to put on Verena's boots but the difference was over 15 sizes and it was almost 
laughable when he tried to walk in them. 'She wouldn't excuse me if I took them; boots 
are harder to replace than a coat. I have to put some rugs around my feet,' said Raynal to 
himself and started to do so.

In a few minutes he felt as ready to continue his flight as he might possibly ever be. He 
opened the entrance door and the severity of the storm hit him. However, he closed the 
door after him and started walking in unknown direction. Visibility was low, less than 
two metres, and his legs and especially feet started to freeze almost immediately.

After walking about three kilometers in knee-deep snow between trees, he stopped for a 
moment. He contemplated about returning on his own tracks to the forestry house, but 
decided not to. 'May you live a happy life, Verena, good bye!' He crossed a creek that 
soaked his overcoat with icy water and moved on. It wasn't long, however, before he 
stopped feeling his legs at all and leaned on a tree nearby. 'O.K, the end is coming, 
sooner than I thought,' he mused and started to recite some prayers. Heavy whistling of 
wind ringed in his ears and he started to cough.

That's when his whole body shot suddenly upwards and fell back, into something soft, 
remaining in horizontal position. He tried to focus his eyes and saw Verena's face, stern 
looking. "You can escape the Wehrmacht, you can escape the Gestapo, but you cannot 
escape the mighty Verena!" she said in a seemingly stern voice, but then she laughed 
wildly and her voice softened. "You are crazy, not me. You would die in an hour, if I 
hadn't woken up and followed your tracks." She kissed him, put him over her shoulder 
and walked back home.

"I am deeply moved that you wanted to protect me even at the cost of your life. But still, 
it is not necessary at all. I can promise you that everything will go well and you will be 
in Switzerland by Christmas," said Verena when they got there. "I would need some help 
from you in the meantime, there will be some interesting events in this house. However, 
if you keep doing what I tell you to do, the risk for both of us will be actually minimal." 

Raynal, unfrozen by that time, decided to play along and enjoy whatever the future may 
bring. "Thank you, Verena. I will do what you say, I swear." She threw him high above 
and caught him in midair, kissing him again and again.

The next two days Raynal spent inside the house, basically as a babysitter of Frederika 
and Johanna, trying to eat and rest as much as possible while Verena was doing her usual 
jobs outside. On the second evening she brought him a basic set of men's clothes and 
boots that fit. "You see, the people from the Black Forest Brotherhood support each other 
in need," she said cryptically.

Later that evening, when they went to bed and prepared for another love session, Raynal 
asked Verena what she would need from him in the meantime. "You know, in a few days 
comes December, the start of the hunting season. There will be only one hunt in my 
forest precinct (Revier), the second Sunday in December, but this year there will be 
important guests, including the highest-ranking one," she sneered.

Raynal's confused face spoke for itself, so Verena explained in an ironic voice: "I mean, 
we are to be blessed by the presence of the Supreme Forester of the Third Reich, who 
will attend the hunt himself with his entourage. And I will be cursed with tending to their 
needs, including cooking the whole dinner for them at the end of the hunt. That's where I 
could use your help, among other things."

"A Supreme Forester of the Reich? Who is it?" asked Raynal. 

"You are an airman and he is too -- in fact the highest ranking airman in Germany; you 
thus should know him," replied Verena, still sneering. 

"No, Verena, be serious, what is his name?" 

She took a while before responding: "You didn't figure out yet, Jean? Reichsmarschall 
Herrmann Goering himself!"