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The Butterfly And The FalconChapter 32 free porn video
Pavel Rodel was going to take his punishment like a man. Not for him would he cast his eyes downward or go on his knees and beg. In Siberia, one looked one's protagonist in the eye. There, men resolved disputes with a fist fight. That was the proper way, but he was now an Officer in the army and such things were unbecoming. He still longed for the old way, however, because there were few men who could best him in a fair fight.
The fact that Benin's 'husband' was a Lieutenant-Colonel had come as an unpleasant shock to him. Benin had introduced him when he arrived from Moscow, a man that was at least as tall as him, although slimmer, but with gold on his epaulettes. Man against man, that would make little difference, but in the army it meant the labour camp or worse.
Not that he regretted for one minute the things he'd done with Benin. He would miss her when he was sent into exile. Maybe she'd leave her husband and follow him? It was a fantasy, he knew, but one that appealed to him. He knew he could make a decent life for them both in Siberia.
He sat at his desk miserably, turning his pen over and over in his hand. Too bad they couldn't settle this as men, he thought.
If Pavel was beating himself up with a volatile blend of infatuation, fear and guilt, he was the last person on the minds of Benin and John as they reunited after so many months away from one another.
But John, too, was shamefaced. Benin knew from the moment she saw him that there was something important on his mind. That something, she was sure, involved Jana Ivanova. She could sense it, smell it, taste it on him.
Pavel had given her the afternoon off and they'd fled in a military car he'd acquired to the Pravda Hotel. Although he'd hadn't permission to stay at the Hotel, normally reserved for Party Officials, John had talked himself around the manager and had been offered a room on the 2nd floor.
The Pravda itself had lost part of its roof. A bomb had landed in the courtyard at the back and had blown down part of the wall. Their old room now looked out into space and snow was piled up inside it. The other side of the building was untouched and the damaged part boarded up. As such, life went on as normal.
Apart, of course, for the snipers posted on the top floor, the 12.7mm machine-gun on the roof, and the bevy of Air Force personnel attached to an air observation post in the ruins of the attic.
Within 5 minutes of falling through the door they were in bed, naked, and making love. John was more attentative than Benin remembered, perhaps more proof that there was something he was ashamed of. If it was mere infidelity, Benin thought, then he needn't worry. She knew he'd been with Jana and, in any case, she hadn't exactly been the model of a faithful wife herself.
"I've some news," he said at last. He still held her in the afterglow of sex. His dick lay soft nestled between Benin's legs. She still felt stung and alive from his frantic kissing of her body.
"Yes?" she asked, nervously. The only thing she could think of was that he'd decided to leave her. Nothing else, she thought, could be as grave a news as that.
"Jana... she..."
"Go on," she urged.
"Jana's pregnant!" He told her hastily. Perhaps he expected a slap on the face or a knee in his vulnerable groin? Secretly he shifted his legs together and turned them away from her.
"Yours?" she asked, even though she knew the answer. He nodded. "What's she going to do?"
"Keep it, I think," he replied.
"Good," she said, "and what have you decided to do?" He shrugged. "Are... are you going to go to her?"
"I... I don't think she wants me to," he told her. Benin sighed inwardly. Her worst fears weren't going to be realised, he was going to remain hers for the time being.
"Why not?" she asked, curious.
"She doesn't want to live with anyone," he told her, "she likes it by herself."
"With you looking in from time to time?" she smiled. He grinned, embarrassed. "And you will, won't you?" Benin continued. He, again, nodded. This, Benin thought, was the first time since he'd met Jana Ivanova that he was being completely honest with her. Such moments needed to be cherished, expanded. "John... are you in love with her?" Again, he nodded. Sucking in her breath in apprehension, she asked, "and, given the choice, who would you rather be with, Jana or me?"
"Both!" His reply was instantaneous, unrehearsed. It was clearly something he'd been thinking about.
"Both of us?" she laughed, "as in 'John's harem?' You imagine all of us together in a small apartment with kids running around our feet?"
"Sure," he replied, "a dream, perhaps, a fantasy. But really, why not?"
"Why not?" she laughed, "I'll tell you why not. The authorities would have a fit, that's why not. And besides, how would you convince Jana, who likes living by herself, to move in with us? Have you figured that one out?" No, of course he hadn't. John was clutching at straws, he knew. He was trying to figure out some way he could have his cake and eat it too.
"There's another thing," he said, nervously.
"Go on!"
"Jana... she, well. Benin, you know you once told me about that Bishop of somewhere. That guy you and your friend put on..."
"Put on a little sex play?" she said, "so the arsehole could get his jollies watching us? What are you trying to suggest, John, you want me to make love to Jana so you can watch and..."
"Not watch!"
"Then join in? You want to be the filling in some girl sandwich?" she roared with laughter, "John, you pervert!"
"No!" he said, "not for me at any rate!"
"Ah!" the penny finally dropped, "are you trying to tell me in your round about way that your Jana likes girls?" John nodded, "and you're suggesting that maybe I might satisfy that side of her?"
"Sure," he agreed, "it's not as if you've never..."
"You're a smug piece of work," she said through her laughter, "you manipulative son of a bitch. What, you're pimping for her now? And all because you can't make up your mind who you want."
"I want you both. Why do I have to make a choice? I love both of you, differently, but equally. I know you two would hit it off."
"How do you know?" she asked, "because you're fucking her are you telling me that I must want to fuck her as well? How conceited is that?"
"She wants you, I know she does," he told her.
"Does she now?" Benin asked, intrigued, "and how would she know? She's never laid eyes on me."
"I've told her about you."
"Oh really!" she grabbed him by the penis, "and what did you tell her? Be careful, now?"
"Um, that your cute... and..."
"And?" she squeezed, smiling like a cat.
"And... that you have a gentle touch."
"Really, that can change!" she squeezed him harder.
"I've, ah, told her about, how you look... about... ah... your body."
"And what about my body?" she asked him, still clutching his stiffening prick.
"How you have a cute arse. How your skin glistens when making love. About your pretty face and brown eyes. She told me she could picture you. She described how she would touch you... how her tongue was softer than a man's and would... um..." Benin had grown quiet. She listened to him intensely. A picture did grow in her mind of Jana Ivanova, the girl in that old photo, with her long legs spread, her white, soft skin, and that classic Nordic face twisted up in pleasure. 'Maybe, ' she thought, 'John did have a point after all.' But damned if she was going to make his twisted scheme easy for him.
In the meantime, though, he'd grown hard and ready. She pushed him onto his back and sat astride him. Gently, she took him by the cock and worked it towards her moist pussy.
As she rose and fell on top of him, she thought about telling him about her episodes with Pavel Rodel. After all, he'd been more than open with her. But, did that accomodation apply to her little dalliance? Maybe, she thought, she might wait awhile before spilling the beans.
On the 15th April 1943, Adolf Hitler put his signature to the 13 copies of Operational Order 16. There were 26 pages, not an unusually long set of orders emanating from the Fuehrer. On the opening page he named the new operation 'Zitadelle' and it was the first German offensive action of the year.
After describing how the finest weapons, men and commanders would be committed to this new attack, he went on; 'Objective of the offensive: by means of a highly concentrated and savage attack vigourously conducted by two armies, one from the area of Belgorod, the other from South of Orel, to encircle the enemy forces situated in the region of Kursk and annihilate them by concentric attacks.'
Hitler's intitiative, actually it stemmed from Oberst-General Kurt Zeitzler of OKH, suggested an earliest date of May 3rd, depending on weather. The great tank commander, Oberst-General Heinz Guderian, hated the plan from the beginning. It would squander the carefully husbanded resources the Panzer Divisions had built up, for no good purpose. He also added that, the Panther tank, the PzKw V, that Hitler was placing so much faith in, was still undergoing teething troubles. He also pointed out that tank losses, expected to be heavy, could not be replaced in 1943 and they ought to be building up for the expected Allied attack in the West in 1944. Hitler's response to Guderian's advice was to place the operation in the hands of von Kluge and von Manstein.
Since the Soviet offensives of last Winter, that saw the extinction of von Paulus and the 6th Army in the Stalingrad 'pocket' and the destruction of the Rumanians and the Italian 8th Army, the Germans had stabilised the front line. Some 'bulges, ' called 'salients, ' had been left in the line and Hitler had allowed the armies to evacuate some of these to 'economise.' Demy'ansk had been evacuated on the North West Front, and Vyazma, astride the Kalinin and West Fronts. But to the South of Moscow the frontline described a huge reverse figure 'S.'
From Kirov, the front bulged deep into Soviet territory around Orel. It then reversed course around Kursk to meet up at Belgorod before meandering down to Taganrog on the Sea of Azov.
In all, 'Zitadelle' involved 41 German Divisions including 18 Panzer and Panzergrenadier Divisions. Von Manstein had 1081 tanks and 376 assault guns at his disposal.
Red Air Force bombers and reconnaissance aircraft had reported the preparations to General Vatutin of the Voronezh Front. Sensibly, Stalin, who had been busy with the preparations for his own attack, decided to let the Germans wear themselves out. He therefore bolstered his defence line along the front. At the same time, he planned a counter-stroke of his own, to be launched after the panzers had knocked themselves out against Kursk.
In Lucerne, Roessler and the 'Red Trio' drew on his spy network inside German General Headquarters, the OKW, codenamed 'Werther.' By July the 7th the Russians knew every detail of the planned attack. Detailed information was also forthcoming from dozens of partisan groups working behind the German lines. There can be few battles where the advantage in intelligence gathering lay so heavily on one side. This time, however, Stalin paid proper attention to what was being offered.
Hard and fast figures for the the Red Army are hard to come by. Although little mention is made of the strength of the army defending Kursk in the definitive Soviet work on the subject, 'The Great Patriotic War, ' some reasonable guesses can be made. The Central and Voronezh Fronts were composed of 75 Divisions, 3,600 tanks, 20,000 guns, howitzers and mortars, 6000 Anti-tank guns and 920 rocket launchers. Thus the defensive potential of the Red Army far exceeded the offensive potential of the Wehrmacht.
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