August 1888, Austria Germany

Suddenly, Klara Hitler withdrew from Alois’ Lips and looked at him.  He looked at her through the haze of passion that had broke the vase and table, and paused halfway through taking off his dinner jacket.

“Do you have protection?” She asked, her chest heaving, and her brow furrowed with concern. Alois Hitler couldn’t do anything but stare at her red, moist lips, his brain’s higher functions being almost overriden by messages from other parts of his body.  He drew his gaze away from her moist red lips and looked at her pleadingly.

“Umm..” he said, but in her passion, she interrupted him by kissing him deeply.

“Fuck it,” She said in gasping breath, “What’s the worse that can happen?” and he pulled her towards him and they resumed their way to the bedroom.


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