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ships with the most vital supplies headed for England.

With her own short-wave radio, she passed this information on to German Military Headquarters in Berlin. On a separate frequency, she spoke to Trude Ruttinger two or three times a week. In explicit detail, Lillian praised her relationship with Olive Masters. "Fraulein, thank you so much for sending me to her, she has the most incredible, and most beautiful pussy, except for yours. And Trude, she thinks my pussy was a gift from the gods."

"You know how to keep her interested, Lillian. It's for the Reich."

"Trude, yes, it's for the Third Reich, but Olive's pussy and her tongue give me such pleasure. She's almost as delicious as you, dear Trude."

"Lillian, when the war is over, I'll reward you with weeks and weeks of my tongue. You've earned it."

"And your pussy, too. Reward me with your pussy, Trude."

Olive Masters never knew that her young lover was a spy. What she did know was that Lillian Fletcher's pussy seemed to be sweeter and sweeter every time they met, and her tongue seemed to do her clitoris better and better.

After Pearl Harbor, with the United States in the war, Olive Master's work became more vital. Lillian found that she could relieve Olive's stress by massaging her pussy with her tongue. "Thank you, Lillian, your tongue is marvelous."

Evening after evening, Miss Masters came home from her stressful work, washed thoroughly and then lay back while Lillian's tongue relieved the strain. No, Olive's moans could not be heard in Manhattan, but she was loud and her orgasms were numerous.

"Olive, I love your pussy. I want to be your pussy eating girl. Tell me, no order me to be your pussy eating girl."

"You're a good girl, Lillian. Please my pussy like only you know how."

Lillian continued to pass on information to the German U-boats, and about once a week Olive insisted, "Lillian, I need to enjoy your taste. I need to know that with everything going on, I'm still able to please you."

"Say it, Olive, please."

Olive was on her knees between young Lillian's legs. "Lillian, I want to please your delicious pussy with my tongue."

The day after the Battle of the Bulge ended, it was obvious to even the most casual observer that Germany was on its last legs; the war was lost. Lillian Fletcher disappeared. She didn't show up for work. Her personal belongings in her apartment were gone.

A year after the war ended, a mature woman walked into the offices at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. She had a slight accent, "I'm looking for a Miss Olive Masters."

"I'm Olive Masters."

My name is Trude Ruttinger, and a dear friend, Lillian Fletcher suggested we might get to know each other."

"What happened to her?"

"I don't know; I lost contact with her during the war."

"Too bad. She was marvelous."

"Extraordinary."

"Wonderful."

"Highly skilled. Did you train her?"

Olive Masters knew Trude Ruttinger was speaking in code. Trude Ruttinger knew Olive Masters was speaking in code. "I think Lillian was right, we should get to know each other. I'm new in New York. I'm staying Manhattan at the Mid-Town. Why don't we meet for lunch?"

"That's a wonderful idea."

Trude was not shy. When Olive arrived at Trude's room at the Mid-Town, the German woman, who passed herself off as Swiss, was dressed in a satin gown; lingerie much too risque for the times. "Miss Masters before the war, I had a lover in Zurich, who called these my Alps." She pulled the shoulder straps on her negligee off, and her lovely, luscious breasts were a feast for Olive Masters' eyes. "I'd like you to enjoy them as much as she did."

Olive Masters not only enjoyed Trude's breasts, but later that afternoon, her pussy too.

By Sunday morning, Olive's pussy was enjoying Trude's very skilled tongue. The German woman recalled her conversations with Lillian Fletcher. "Olive, you seem tense. Why don't you just lay back, and let me relieve your stress?"

"Thank you, Trude. You're the most talented woman I've ever been with. Keep doing me just like that."

"And you have the sweetest, most delicious pussy. Lillian told me that she was your pussy eating girl. Olive, can I be your pussy eating girl, please?"

"I'd like that, but I want the pleasure of your Alps and more."

Within a week, Trude move out of the hotel and into Olive's apartment. Almost every day, Olive sat back on the chair in her parlor, and Trude massaged her clitoris with her tongue.

Almost every day, Olive Masters started on Trude's magnificent breasts and ended up with her face in the German woman's bush. "Trude, have I told you how beautiful your pussy is today?"

AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER.

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