Normandy's Last Ember

The rain hammered against the corrugated iron roof of the supply truck, a relentless, drumming rhythm that mirrored the frantic beat of my heart. November 1944. Normandy. Just another day in hell, they called it. But for me, it was about Cathy. About the last, desperate spark of sanity in a world consumed by chaos. We didn’t have much time, she’d whispered, her voice tight with urgency. And she was right. The air hung thick with the smell of diesel, damp earth, and the metallic tang of blood. Red Cross workers swarmed around us, their faces grim, unloading wounded soldiers from the trucks that lined the muddy field. The distant thud of artillery fire punctuated the scene, a constant reminder of the brutal reality of war.

I, Captain Link Marshall, was a weathered veteran, etched with the harsh lines of countless battles. My Army jacket, turned up high against the biting wind, offered little protection from the chill that seeped into my bones. But my gaze remained fixed on Cathy, her presence a beacon in this desolate landscape. We’d met by chance, a fortunate collision amidst the carnage. A shock, a delight, she’d said, and she hadn’t been wrong. After weeks of fragmented letters, her sudden appearance had been a balm to my soul, a reminder of the life we’d shared before this nightmare began. But now, as I looked at her, I saw not just my wife, but a woman on the precipice, facing a future as uncertain as the weather.

She was a whirlwind of compassion amidst the suffering, a Red Cross worker radiating calm amidst the storm. Her uniform, a drab khaki, couldn’t hide the vibrant spirit within her. Her eyes, the color of a stormy sea, held a depth of emotion that both intrigued and terrified me. She knew the stakes, the precariousness of our situation. The Germans were closing in, and the medical unit needed to move west. Tomorrow, I’d be joining their regiment, back into the heart of the fighting. And she would be there, working tirelessly to save lives, while I risked mine in the trenches.

As the chaos unfolded around us, my mind couldn't help but wander back to the vows we’d made, the promises whispered during our honeymoon, promises that now seemed fragile and distant. “We would love in good times and bad times, in sickness and health, until death parted us,” I remembered her words, a poignant echo in the deafening din of war. A grim smile tugged at my lips. The bad times had certainly arrived.

“You are a marvelous woman, Cathy,” I murmured, my voice rough with emotion. Her eyes widened slightly, reflecting a mixture of surprise and gratitude. She reached out, her gloved hand gently tracing the line of my jaw. The touch sent a shiver down my spine, a primal response to her proximity. The world around us seemed to fade away, the sounds of war receding into a distant hum. It was just us, suspended in a pocket of stolen intimacy amidst the carnage.

“I know it will never be that. I was made for you, for this time, as you were made for me,” she whispered, her breath warm against my ear. Her words ignited a fire within me, a desperate need to connect, to lose myself in her embrace. My hand instinctively moved to her waist, gripping her tightly, pulling her closer. Her body trembled beneath my touch, a silent plea for release. She was cold, shivering from the dampness, and the knowledge that she was vulnerable only intensified my desire. I felt a surge of possessiveness, a fierce need to protect her, to keep her safe from the horrors of war.

“When we got married,” she began, her voice unsteady, “we made some vows. We said we would love in good times and bad times, in sickness and health, until death parted us. Link, this is a very bad time, but I still love you. I always will.” The raw honesty in her words pierced my heart, a reminder of the depth of our connection, the unwavering bond that held us together even in the face of unimaginable adversity. "Your love for me and my love for you is never a question in my mind,” I replied, pulling her close. “I love you so much and it’s because I love you so much I don’t want…” My eyes searched hers, desperate to find an answer to the unspoken question hanging in the air.

“You don’t want what?” she asked, her voice barely audible above the din. “To just…use you,” I finished for her, a wave of frustration washing over me. It wasn’t about using her, not in the way she seemed to be implying. It was about wanting to lose myself in her, to find solace and comfort in her arms, to forget, if only for a moment, the horrors of war. I needed her, desperately, and the thought of her being vulnerable, exposed to the dangers of this place, filled me with a potent mix of fear and longing.

Her gaze softened, a flicker of understanding in her eyes. “I know it will never be that. I was made for you, for this time, as you were made for me.” Her words were a reassurance, a promise that our connection transcended the chaos of war. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. I knew what she was about to do, and a thrill of anticipation coursed through my veins.

With a swift movement, I grabbed her neck, pulling her close, forcing her to meet me halfway. Her body arched into my embrace, her muscles tensing beneath my touch. The air crackled with unspoken desire, a tangible force that filled the small space between us. “Oh, God, I need you so bad, Cathy!” I roared, my voice hoarse with longing. Then I kissed her, a desperate, passionate kiss that spoke volumes about our shared yearning. Her response was immediate, a frantic, hungry embrace that mirrored my own. Our lips met again, melting together in a symphony of pleasure and desperation.

My hands instinctively moved down her arms, tracing the contours of her body, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my touch. But the weight of her uniform, the layers of clothing designed to protect her from the elements, hampered my progress. She shivered, pulling at the buttons of her coat, desperate to get some relief from the cold. Finally, she managed to open the coat, revealing a glimpse of her pale skin beneath. As my fingers brushed against her breasts, a surge of heat flooded my body, a primal response to her exposed beauty. She gasped, her body trembling with anticipation, and I knew that I had to act quickly.

Without hesitation, I pulled my trousers down, exposing my own body. The sight of my nakedness seemed to electrify her, a silent invitation to surrender to our desires. Then, in a swift, decisive movement, I lifted her up and placed her on the edge of the truck bed, securing her in place. Her movements were hesitant, unsure, but her eyes held a glimmer of excitement. She fumbled with her panties, pulling them down just enough to allow me access. The rain continued to lash against the truck, but we were oblivious to the elements, lost in our own private world of lust and desire.

Pressing myself close to her, shielding her from prying eyes, I positioned my rod, feeling the familiar thrill of anticipation. She gripped my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin, her body trembling with a potent mixture of fear and pleasure. The sounds of gunfire and mortars faded into the background as we lost ourselves in the pleasure of our encounter.

Her gloved fingers wandered into my coat, then under my shirt, seeking out the warmth of my skin. A passing jeep, carrying several departing officers, made us glance around nervously, but we were quickly distracted by the intensity of our mutual desire. In this setting, she couldn’t undress, and the weather didn’t allow for that either, but she opened her blouse up so he could reach in and clasp his hands over her warm, firm breasts. At first touch, she gasped. His fingers were cold. But then she smiled weakly at him, encouraging him to go on.

As he slowed down and his face blanked out as if in disbelief, he realized that this intimacy with a woman…it didn’t jell with the carnage he’d been living through. The sounds of gunfire and mortars faded from his hearing as Cathy’s body immersed his senses.

Her gloved fingers wandered into his coat, then under his shirt. A passing jeep, carrying several departing officers, made them glance around. In spite of the cold autumn dusk, they were still visible to others. They met each other’s eyes again. There wasn’t a lot of time.

Quickly, though fumblingly, Link pulled his hands out of her clothes and unbuckled his belt. Cathy finished unbuttoning the last buttons of her coat. Link had his shaft freed from his trousers and in a second he picked her up and plunked her on the edge of the truck’s bed. She had pulled her trousers and panties down just enough to give him access. Pressing himself close to her, both out of desire and the need to shield her from prying eyes, he positioned his rod at her damp love-hole and shoved into her.

She gasped and gripped his shoulders. “Yes, Link, darling, yes!” she cried in his ear. He pounded as though he must bore through her and she welcomed it. This was for him. She gloried in the ability to do this for a man like Link. So often he had sacrificed for her. Back home in the happier days before the war, she had experienced some rough things, including a miscarriage that rendered her barren. Link had stood by her so lovingly. Even now he was satisfying her; his meat rubbed hard against her sopping petals as he went in and out and it stimulated her deliciously. For a few minutes, husband and wife forgot the war and lost themselves in the pleasure of togetherness.

It was fast, maybe two minutes. Then Link caught his breath and his fingers and abdomen clenched tight. Cathy knew he was erupting inside of her. It took a masterful effort on his part to keep his groans bottled up lest anyone overhear him. But the look on his hard-muscled face was plain enough. It set her off and she felt her belly convulse in her own small climax.

“Thank you, baby,” he whispered once the tenseness of his orgasm had eased off. “I love you. I always will.” She didn’t say anything, only gave him another soul-baring look. Their lips connected again hungrily.

Link’s hands strayed down her arms to her waist and hips, but unfortunately, he couldn’t feel much under Cathy’s clothes. She was in Medical Corps khakis and a heavy overcoat. But she was trembling, feeling his need for her in the groping of his muscular hands, and agitatedly she pulled at her coat buttons. In this setting she couldn’t undress, and the weather didn’t allow for that either, but she opened her blouse up so he could reach in and clasp his hands over her warm, firm breasts. At first touch, she gasped. His fingers were cold. But then she smiled weakly at him, encouraging him to go on.

He seemed to slow down and his face blanked out as if in disbelief. This intimacy with a woman…it didn’t jell with the carnage he’d been living through. The sounds of gunfire and mortars faded from his hearing as Cathy’s body immersed his senses.

Her gloved fingers wandered into his coat, then under his shirt. A passing jeep, carrying several departing officers, made them glance around. In spite of the cold autumn dusk, they were still visible to others. They met each other’s eyes again. There wasn’t a lot of time.

Quickly, though fumblingly, Link pulled his hands out of her clothes and unbuckled his belt. Cathy finished unbuttoning the last buttons of her coat. Link had his shaft freed from his trousers and in a second he picked her up and plunked her on the edge of the truck’s bed. She had pulled her trousers and panties down just enough to give him access. Pressing himself close to her, both out of desire and the need to shield her from prying eyes, he positioned his rod at her damp love-hole and shoved into her.

She gasped and gripped his shoulders. “Yes, Link, darling, yes!” she cried in his ear. He pounded as though he must bore through her and she welcomed it. This was for him. She gloried in the ability to do this for a man like Link. So often he had sacrificed for her. Back home in the happier days before the war, she had experienced some rough things, including a miscarriage that rendered her barren. Link had stood by her so lovingly. Even now he was satisfying her; his meat rubbed hard against her sopping petals as he went in and out and it stimulated her deliciously. For a few minutes, husband and wife forgot the war and lost themselves in the pleasure of togetherness.

It was fast, maybe two minutes. Then Link caught his breath and his fingers and abdomen clenched tight. Cathy knew he was erupting inside of her. It took a masterful effort on his part to keep his groans bottled up lest anyone overhear him. But the look on his hard-muscled face was plain enough. It set her off and she felt her belly convulse in her own small climax.

“Thank you, baby,” he whispered once the tenseness of his orgasm had eased off. “I love you. I always will.” She didn’t say anything, only gave him another soul-baring look. Their lips connected again hungrily.

Link kept glancing around, subconsciously trained to keep on the alert no matter where he was or what he was doing. Yet his eyes were pulled back to Cathy, gazing up at him so longingly. His ungloved hands rested around her waist. “Cathy…” his voice cracked.

She heard everything he seemed unable to speak. The words screamed from his tortured eyes. He had seen such horror, things that were haunting him this second, and he would be back in the middle of it shortly. He felt he was becoming part of the bloodiness. He might hurt her. Still, his stubborn male body demanded sexual relief in spite of the surroundings. He wanted her. He needed her after these unending months.

“When we got married,” Cathy began in a very unsteady voice, “we made some vows. We said we would love in good times and bad times, in sickness and health, until death parted us. Link, this is a very bad time, but I still love you. I always will.”

“Your love for me and my love for you is never a question in my mind,” he averred. “I love you so much and it’s because I love you so much I don’t want…”

“You don’t want what?”

“To just…use you.”

A look of deep compassion softened her puckered brow and wet her eyes. “I know it will never be that. I was made for you, for this time, as you were made for me.”

He gazed at her for a long second, then masterfully grabbed her neck with both hands and pulled her to him. “Oh, God, I need you so bad, Cathy!” he said hoarsely. Then he kissed her. She responded. Their mouths melted together, desperate to be satisfied.

When they allowed themselves a brief pause, Link said, his lips close to hers, “You are a marvelous woman, Cathy. I can’t thank God enough for you.”

She didn’t say anything, only gave him another soul-baring look. Their lips connected again hungrily.

Link’s hands strayed down her arms to her waist and hips, but unfortunately, he couldn’t feel much under Cathy’s clothes. She was in Medical Corps khakis and a heavy overcoat. But she was trembling, feeling his need for her in the groping of his muscular hands, and agitatedly she pulled at her coat buttons. In this setting she couldn’t undress, and the weather didn’t allow for that either, but she opened her blouse up so he could reach in and clasp his hands over her warm, firm breasts. At first touch, she gasped. His fingers were cold. But then she smiled weakly at him, encouraging him to go on.

He seemed to slow down and his face blanked out as if in disbelief. This intimacy with a woman…it didn’t jell with the carnage he’d been living through. The sounds of gunfire and mortars faded from his hearing as Cathy’s body immersed his senses.

Her gloved fingers wandered into his coat, then under his shirt. A passing jeep, carrying several departing officers, made them glance around. In spite of the cold autumn dusk, they were still visible to others. They met each other’s eyes again. There wasn’t a lot of time.

Quickly, though fumblingly, Link pulled his hands out of her clothes and unbuckled his belt. Cathy finished unbuttoning the last buttons of her coat. Link had his shaft freed from his trousers and in a second he picked her up and plunked her on the edge of the truck’s bed. She had pulled her trousers and panties down just enough to give him access. Pressing himself close to her, both out of desire and the need to shield her from prying eyes, he positioned his rod at her damp love-hole and shoved into her.

She gasped and gripped his shoulders. “Yes, Link, darling, yes!” she cried in his ear. He pounded as though he must bore through her and she welcomed it. This was for him. She gloried in the ability to do this for a man like Link. So often he had sacrificed for her. Back home in the happier days before the war, she had experienced some rough things, including a miscarriage that rendered her barren. Link had stood by her so lovingly. Even now he was satisfying her; his meat rubbed hard against her sopping petals as he went in and out and it stimulated her deliciously. For a few minutes, husband and wife forgot the war and lost themselves in the pleasure of togetherness.

It was fast, maybe two minutes. Then Link caught his breath and his fingers and abdomen clenched tight. Cathy knew he was erupting inside of her. It took a masterful effort on his part to keep his groans bottled up lest anyone overhear him. But the look on his hard-muscled face was plain enough. It set her off and she felt her belly convulse in her own small climax.

“Thank you, baby,” he whispered once the tenseness of his orgasm had eased off. “I love you. I always will.” She didn’t say anything, only gave him another soul-baring look. Their lips connected again hungrily.

Link kept glancing around, subconsciously trained to keep on the alert no matter where he was or what he was doing. Yet his eyes were pulled back to Cathy, gazing up at him so longingly. His ung

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