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"Gott im Himmel,"
Greta said, "You look like a raccoon."
"It's the black
powder from the maxim guns and the oil from the engine," he
responded.
He was tall, he was blonde,
he was a Barron and he was handsome and he did something few men
did: he flew! He looked impressive in his leather flying outfit.
What woman would not find him attractive? In spite of his somewhat
comical appearance, Greta nearly swooned.
He ordered schnapps and
sat down at a table with his squadron mates. Soon they were gesturing
with their hands re-enacting the day's aerial battles.
Greta watched him under
veiled eyes and flashed him a coy smile whenever he looked in her
direction.
One thing led to another
and after a few more drinks, the Barron stood up, saluted his mates
and said, "Dawn comes early, gentlemen. I must be earlier if
I am to meet it in the air."
He retired to his room
and undressed. He was busy washing the grime of the day's events
of his body when he heard a knock on his door. He opened it wearing
only his shorts. It was Greta.
She stood there and giggled
like a little girl and wiggled her way through the partially opened
door.
He opened his mouth to
say a word, but she put her finger to his lip to silence him. She
grabbed his hand and led him to the bed. He didn't resist.
Slowly she undressed
before him. She pulled him up to her and kissed him as she lowered
his shorts. She pushed him back on the bed and draped her body over
his lap.
He immediately got the
message and fixed his sites on her hinterteil. Being the good pilot
that he was, he launched his attack from the rear going vertical
with his palm, rolling over on a fingertip, reversing course and
diving down towards his target. At the last moment he pulled back
flattening out his palm before pancaking it on the landing zone
with a loud splat.
Pulling off rapidly,
he positioned himself for another pass. Dive after dive, splat after
splat he relentlessly repeated his attacks.
He was running low on
fuel when the door suddenly opened and one of his drunken mates
stumbled in.
The Barron thought quickly
and feigned confusion. He turned to the lady on his lap. "Madam,"
said Manfred, "what business drew you hither?"
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