A Lusty Work in Progress

~+ Prologue +~

2008-08-27T16:06:00.002+02:00

Vienna, 1914

The church was empty apart from an old woman praying or sleeping in one of the pews far off toward the front. Father Jakob Hafner, the middle-aged priest on duty that day, had been immersed in his own thoughts when a young man entered the confessional, knelt down, crossed himself and folded his hands with the flawless reverence that comes from years of practice. He let out a little sigh before he spoke, his voice soft and calm.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been twelve years since my last confession.”

His dialect betrayed the fact that he was not from the city, but this was hardly a rare thing. St. Stephen’s attracted visitors from every corner of the Empire, some of whom barely spoke a word of German. The good Father Hafner tried to welcome everyone with equal sentiments, but truth be told he was always particularly glad to see anyone under the age of thirty as their transgressions tended to be juicier and a sight more substantial than those of his major demographic.

“May God enlighten your heart and give you true recognition of your sins and His mercy,” he recited impassively.

“Amen.”

The young man paused a moment to reflect, then he began.
“My sins are many in number, and primarily of a sexual nature. I do not feel that I can list them in order of severity, for they are all mortal sins and your judgement of right and wrong is far more… finely tuned than my own, Father. So I shall instead confess them in the order which I committed them… if that is alright.”

“Very well,” the confessor said with an inward smile as he settled back in his chair. It was not often that he got to hear confessions of this nature; a shame, really, as they were his favourite. While a number of Catholics came to this particular cathedral to anonymously confess, the majority of those who frequently availed themselves of the Sacrament were elderly women with too little to do and even less to feel guilty about.

When the young man began his words came slowly but with relative confidence, given his age.

“Ten years ago I lusted after a girl. I entertained impure thoughts about her, obtained physical pleasure from these thoughts and did not seek absolution. I indulged in this sin on numerous occasions thereafter, despite adequate reflection and full awareness of the seriousness of the sin. I stopped going to confession around this time but continued to partake of Communion regularly although I was not in a state of grace and thus unfit to do so.”

A long pause followed, during which the priest couldn’t help but feel he had prematurely got his hopes up about his mysterious penitent. Trying not to let his disappointment come across he asked, “Is there anything else you wish to confess, my son?”

“Yes, Father,” the young man replied, and after another few seconds of reflection he went on.

“I lost my purity to a woman and entered into a casual sexual relationship with her which took place while I was still living under my parents’ roof. Around this time I also had sex with a young woman who I knew to be a virgin; I consented to sex with a male friend and I repeated this sin on no fewer than one hundred and twenty occasions. The number is probably higher, Father, but I cannot say for certain how many times it was exactly. I indulged in lustful thoughts and obtained physical gratification from them on numerous occasions. I cannot recall how many. I engaged in sexual acts with two young women who were sisters, during which intercourse was deliberately avoided and I also took part in an orgy during which I engaged in sex with three women and a man.”

The priest very nearly let slip a comment but checked himself in time. After quickly gathering himself and feigning an air of neutrality he said, “I see. Is that all?”

“No, Father,” the young man answered before carrying on.

“During my time at University I abused a position of trust and authority and corrupted a virgin by pressing her to engage in sexual acts with me, during which intercourse was deliberately avoided. I repeated these actions with her on no fewer than a dozen occasions. I consented to various sexual practices with a fellow male student, including sodomy, on no fewer than seventy occasions. I also engaged in sex with a prostitute.”

He paused once more, as though taking stock in his mind before he continued.

“On separate and recurring occasions I encouraged six fellow female students to perform sexual acts on me, during which intercourse was deliberately avoided. One of them after she had promised herself to another man. I entertained impure thoughts about a young woman after she was married to my best friend. I also lusted after a number of young women I knew and many I did not know. I intentionally became intoxicated, thereby placing myself in occasion of sin, and consented to sex with a male teacher…whose wife I also entertained lustful thoughts about. These are the sins I committed before my twentieth year.”

The young man fell silent. When the priest did not speak he shifted his position slightly. Sounding a bit unsure of himself for the first time, he added, “Shall I move on to the more recent ones, Father?”

© Hanna Loftus

UPDATE :)

2008-06-24T13:32:00.053+02:00

....................
All you faithful readers may have noticed that I am no longer posting any new work on this site. Contact me if you're interested in reading more.

hannaloftus@gmail.com

~"When Lust Entered In"~

2008-06-24T12:34:00.047+02:00

AN INCOMPLETE TALE

Please note: This story is a fragment and does not yet fit in with the context of the other stories. Just a bit of fun!
-hanna

Linz, 1905

The sun shone brilliantly in the cloudless blue sky when we set out that morning and the fair weather held most of the day. We swam in the lake for hours and by noon we had built up quite an appetite. Taking out the sandwiches and the bottle of milk I’d packed in my rucksack we picnicked under a tree, content as any two creatures on God’s green earth.

The spot was so secluded, so peaceful. It was well worth the long hike it took to reach. After our modest lunch we got back in the water and carried on swimming until late in the afternoon.

Neither of us had a pocket watch with us so we had no idea what the time was. It must have been around five or six when, without warning, dark clouds gathered in the heavens and the first drops began to fall. We scrambled into our clothes and packed our things together but we were stranded. There was no sign of shelter in sight.

Racing down the hill, trying in vain to outrun the storm, I spotted a barn about a kilometre away, so we changed our course and headed for that.

By the time we reached it we were soaked to the skin, but to my surprise Erich was not annoyed. He was actually laughing.

We stripped off our clothes and did our best to wring them out. While Erich hung them up to dry I climbed up to the top of the barn and found some large squares of cloth, probably used to transport the hay to the fields.
They were very dusty and the material was rough but they were better than nothing.

Wet, naked and trembling my friend lay down on the sheet I had spread out and I folded him up in it. After I had thrown some hay over him I curled up in my own sheet and wrapped it tightly around me.

“I’m starving,” he said. “How about you?”
When I answered that I was too it seemed to ease his grief. He and I exchanged our impressions of that day and found plenty of things to laugh about. I’d never seen him so jovial and carefree as he was now, the two of us bundled up in dirty old pieces of cloth as the rain pelted against the roof high above our heads.

In the meantime we had begun to warm up. The sun had set and I wondered aloud what time it was, but Erich was enjoying the adventure too much to care.
It would have almost been cosy had it not been for our hunger.

This is our last summer of freedom before we set off to university. To become adults, I thought with mixed feelings of excitement and melancholy as we lay there chatting contentedly.
It just seemed like the right time to tell him.

“Erich, I’m not a virgin.”
In my voice was a trace of apology.
For not having told him, but also for having something so sinful to confess in the first place.
My friend had always been so perceptive in matters concerning me and my life, but it was evident that my words came as a shock to him.

I waited for him to start in on me but he just looked over at me silently. There was no anger in his face, and I realised he was waiting for me to continue.

“The woman I was working for last summer,” I reminded him. “In the house on Landstrasse..”
“So you were just sixteen,” he interrupted, thinking out loud.
“Fifteen,” I corrected him timidly.
It had started in April, my birthday still a couple of months off.

He shook his head in disbelief.
“How did she seduce you?” he asked, knowing me well enough to know it had been the other party who initiated things.
“She talked to me,” I replied. “We talked for a long time.”
Bits of our conversation came flooding back to me, still fresh in my mind as though it were only yesterday.

“It was the first time someone like that actually looked at me. Not like I was beneath her, but like an equal.”
I’d never spoken so candidly with him before.
“She told me I was handsome,” I went on.
“Then she kissed me.”

Again I waited for my opinionated friend to inject a verdict but there was only silence.
Never before had he listened so passively. I had his undivided attention.

A little smile. “Well?” he urged. “Don’t stop at the best part!”

“She.. she touched me,” I continued, a bit flushed as I found myself becoming aroused. I wondered if he was as well.

“Go on,” he urged.
I swallowed hard and struggled to formulate a sentence. Unfortunately I was not so articulate at expressing myself as my friend.
“She… instructed me in the art of lovemaking.” It was the best summary of the amazing Katherine I could offer.
“Instructed you? How long did this go on?” he inquired, no doubt assuming it had been a one-off thing.
“We were sleeping together the whole summer,” I answered as delicately as I could.
“Until her contract with my father’s company ended. We’ve been lovers off and on since then.”
“You mean to say you’re still seeing this woman?”
“Whenever I go back home to visit, yes.”

I could tell he was having great difficulty coming to terms with what I was telling him and, undoubtedly, struggling to imagine me in a sexual situation with an older member of the upper crust.

What I wouldn’t have given to have her with me at that moment.
My erection, while easy enough to conceal beneath the coarse sheet covering my body, was becoming very uncomfortable and demanding attention I could not give it.

“Can we talk about something else?” I pleaded.
Erich must have sensed my discomfort and perhaps found himself in the same quandary, for he nodded in agreement.

A long silence followed while he processed the news I’d given him.
Finally he spoke.

"Who will pay the musicians, I wonder? When they’ve exhausted all their funds."

Ah, the little opera house in town. One of his favourite 'projects'.
My friend had an inane notion that he—a seventeen year old with no education, qualifications or experience—would be far better suited to run it than ‘those tone-deaf fatheads in charge’ as he termed them.
He had been chewing over plans for various improvements for the past week, and while I normally would have rolled my eyes, I was now grateful for the change of subject.

Erich was not a musician, nor did he know the first thing about musical theory.
"Why is it so interesting for you?" I inquired cautiously.
He gave my question some thought before replying

"Because I have you around me, I suppose. May as well make use of you."

This was his backhanded way of saying that it was convenient for him to have someone he could consult on matters he knew nothing about.

Somewhat flattered, I ventured a step further.

"So… who were you thinking of to conduct?" I asked, recalling how he had voiced his disapproval for the current conductor.
He saw through me immediately.
"Certainly not you!" he scoffed.
Then, a touch more serious, he added "Well, perhaps after you've completed your studies I'll consider offering you a junior post."

"I'll pass, thank you," I retorted, insulted by his previous remark.
"Besides, I'd prefer to conduct a real orchestra."

That was all it took to infuriate him.
"You'd be honoured to work for me and grateful I gave you the chance!" he snarled.
"I think you need to come up with some way to finance this dream of yours before you go about hiring people," I argued.

"Your opinion is the last thing I care to hear!" he screamed. "And nobody asked you anyway!"

A frosty silence fell between us.
Hurt and angry I rolled over, turning my back to him.

Abruptly he scrambled out of his sheet and leapt on me.
He straddled me, grabbed me by the wrists and pinned me down.
The next thing I knew we were rolling around on the rough floorboards.
It wasn’t long before Erich regained his position over me.
I could only feel the cold ground under my back and his weight on top of me.
It took my mind a few seconds to register what was going on.

I couldn’t believe it had come to this. We were actually fighting. I mean, we’d argued on a daily basis throughout the four years of our friendship, but things had never turned physical before.

I struggled in earnest to get out from under him. Logically I knew I was stronger than him, and yet at that moment I couldn’t free myself from his grip.
Finally I gave up.

The light had all but gone, but when I looked up at his face I saw that he wasn’t angry at me anymore.

Lying there beneath him, our quick breaths white against the cold darkness, it dawned on me that this was a different kind of struggle.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, and the sincerity in his voice touched me.
“It’s ok,” I replied shakily.
“No… no, it’s not ok. I shouldn’t talk to you like that. I..” his voice broke off.
He gazed down at me tenderly.

“God, I love you so much,” he whispered.

Shocked and overwhelmed by my friend’s words, I simply stared back at him in wonder. My chest rose and fell as I attempted to slow my breathing.
He loosened his grip but remained on top of me.

The warmth generated by our naked bodies was pleasant and I felt a renewed stirring inside me. It was a strange feeling. Surreal but at the same time so natural. A comfortable heat spread through my body, rushed to my head, made my cheeks flush and my cock swell.
Every erogenous zone on my body was ablaze.

When Erich’s mouth came down upon mine I hungrily accepted his kiss. We devoured one another like it was the last night on Earth; in such a way as can only two people who have long yearned for it.

Finally he broke away to come up for air. His eyes travelled over my face and he smiled.

“I love you,” he repeated almost inaudibly, trembling with cold or emotion.
I couldn’t find my voice to answer him. The pounding of my heart hammered in my ears.

Still astride me, he shifted his position slightly. Relinquishing his hold, he ran a hand down his body, ghostlike in the pale moonlight. I could not see what he was doing, but I knew he had taken hold of his cock.
Leaning over me, he supported himself with his left hand.
His eyes still locked onto mine, he penetrated me unceremoniously.

“Christ! For fuck’s sake..!” I exclaimed with an agonised gasp of surprise.
I instinctively struggled against him in discomfort, and yet I didn’t want him to stop.
And he did not.

He withdrew and entered me again, taking obvious pleasure in the way it felt.
I squirmed in pain but he wrapped his hands tightly around my wrists, holding me down as he repeated the motions over and over again. It hurt so badly each time he pulled out, a sensation immediately followed by the sweet agony of his re-entry.

He kissed me to silence my cries and I readily kissed him back. My lust for him was intense, despite the pain. His tongue wrestled with mine as he buried his stiff cock in me and remained inside.

Then he started to fuck me properly. Our mouths were still locked as he repeatedly thrust into me and I lost myself in how good it felt. His hands relinquished their grip when I stopped struggling and he used them now to brace himself as his strokes became harder and more rhythmic.

Our laboured breathing and moaning filled the barn and echoed from the high ceiling, but we were miles from civilisation and there was no need to hold back.

He withdrew once more and turned me onto my side, positioning himself behind me where he immediately slid his stiff member back into me. I had curled up, but he hugged my chest, pulling me to him and straightening my back. This only intensified the feeling of each thrust.
Then he grasped my erection and moved his hand up and down my cock while he resumed fucking me.
The pleasure was almost too much to bear.

My breaths were quick and shallow now and I did not attempt to control my impending orgasm.

His hand had stopped moving and was now holding my cock tightly while he concentrated fully on fucking me. But I was so aroused at this point that no outside stimulation was necessary. He was clearly nowhere near finishing with me, but I could not stop myself from climaxing. Time ceased to exist. The ground moved as I came, Erich still gripping me firmly in his hand.

Close to sobbing with ecstasy, so utterly content and gratified was I at that moment, I slowly came down again. But his thrusts did not falter, merely sped up somewhat. Groans of animalistic pleasure came from my throat and he whispered things into my ear that I shy from repeating even here and now.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

All the time I had known my friend he had always had something of a controlling streak to him, but after that night in the barn his possessiveness got worse. Rather than bring us closer together the sex brought out a new, darker side in him that frightened me. We hardly spoke now, instead passing our time together in other ways.
I silently complied as he touched me, kissed me and had his way with me, too petrified to do anything else.

I do not mean to imply that I did not enjoy it, for I most certainly did. I was, however, intimidated by him and my fear pervaded every moment I spent in his presence, even those of intimacy.

His moods were now even more unpredictable and volatile. He demanded sex constantly and was becoming increasingly careless about how and where he made his advances. While I can’t deny that the stolen kisses and secretive groping were exhilarating, this new change in our relationship made me very uneasy.

Most times we went to the lake, a secret place that only we knew about. It was perfectly hidden by the tall trees and large rocks, far from any potentially prying eyes.
It also offered the added convenience that we could wash ourselves afterwards, rather than return to our homes smelling of sweat and sex.
But as the days grew shorter even Erich could no longer deny that the water was becoming too cold, and we were forced to give up our little refuge in favour of less hospitable places.

Our visits to the theatre and the opera helped greatly to improve his disposition and I was thankful to have the old Erich back, if only for a few hours. But in the back of my mind I was aware that the performance would eventually draw to a close and I would be alone with him again.

The Wagner production we attended had kept him talking long after we’d left the opera house at midnight, but in the end his carnal desires got the better of him.
Pulling me into a dark and narrow side street he pushed me against the wall. His body was pressed so close to mine that his hardness dug into my leg. His kiss was rough, almost hostile, and awakened some primitive lust in me. Forbidden fruits truly were the sweetest. Driven by impulse I kissed him back. My pulse raced when I thought of what we were doing, and both of us knew full well we could have been seen by a passer-by at any moment.

“Do you have somewhere we can go?” he asked breathlessly
Fleetingly I considered and dismissed both my options. I couldn’t tell him about my room at Katherine’s and my house was out of the question.
“My parents would hear us,” I said quietly.
“We could go down to the lake,” he proposed.
“It’s too cold!” I argued.

I could sense his frustration mounting rapidly.
“Fuck!” he exclaimed, pounding the wall above my head. I closed my eyes and waited for the storm to pass. When his glance fell upon my face he composed himself.
He kissed me once more, hungrily but this time more gently.
Almost affectionately.
Almost.

Then he straightened my clothes and said he’d see me tomorrow before walking back out into the street and starting for home. I waited a few moments before I emerged from the alley and headed in the opposite direction. It had already passed three o’clock.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next morning he came to my house. My parents, who were downstairs, greeted him warmly as usual and sent him up to my room. I assumed he’d come to get me and that we would go out, but he closed the door behind him. Before I could ask what he was doing he grabbed me and kissed me. His tongue forced its way deep into my mouth as he backed me into the corner where my back came to rest against my small writing table.

Our illicit moments in the dark had been one thing, but I couldn’t believe my friend was now proposing we bring this into the house of my parents. And in broad daylight, no less. The notion didn’t appeal to me at all.

“Erich…”
“Shh,” he silenced me before resuming his kiss with more passion.

While my parents tended not to bother us when Erich visited, there was no lock on my door and either of them could come in whenever they pleased. The shame I felt at the prospect of being discovered kissing my best friend was unbearable. I tried to push him away but he only pulled me closer.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” he whispered in my ear then he brought his hand between my legs.
He was right. I was already hard.

A satisfied little grin settled on his lips as he gazed into my eyes.

“Lie back,” he said. “I want to see your face while I fuck you.”

He couldn’t be serious.
Panicking somewhat, my mind grappled for an effective way to stop him, but he had already got my trousers halfway off and was pushing me back onto the table.
I could have protested. The rational part of me wanted to. But my own lust coupled with my fear of Erich’s temper was more powerful than my worries that we might be caught, and I let him have his way.

My heart raced as I lay back on the table. He removed my trousers, opened his and positioned himself between my legs.
Despite my nerves, there was no use denying my excitement. Any objection on my part was useless at this point, for my throbbing erection betrayed my true feelings.

Accustomed by now to the routine of being fucked, I braced myself for the pain. That was what I dreaded most every time, apart from his anger.

He entered me very slowly, and his ragged breathing revealed the amount of willpower that took for him. Stifling my own cries, all too aware that I could not afford to let one fortuitous moan escape my lips, I felt his eyes on me, observing me.
Unable to withstand his stare I closed my eyes tightly. My furrowed brow was already growing moist with sweat.
Erich no doubt relished this sight, delighted in the wickedness of what we were doing.

He was fucking me now and, as usual, the pain gradually lessened with each thrust.

“I thought about you last night,” he said quietly, still keeping up his rhythmic movements.
“I could barely sleep.”
I knew what he meant. Despite the late hour, I had needed to relieve myself twice the previous night before calming down enough to drift off. My dreams had been strange and sex-driven, a perfect reflection of my waking thoughts.

He placed one hand on my chest and another on the table top to steady himself as he drove into me harder. With difficulty he struggled to restrain his laboured breaths, which were coming closer together. He fucked me faster, with an urgency I’d never witnessed before. I pressed my hands against the wall above my head to take his fevered thrusts without being pushed back on the table.

Soon he stopped pounding into me and suppressed his moans as he shot his hot seed deep inside my bowels. His chest heaved as he struggled to regain his breath.

Though we tended to linger in this position after copulation, this time he pulled away from me and did up his trousers before handing me mine. I held them tight to my erection and rushed into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I collapsed onto the floor, my back against the cool wood of the door. Gasping for breath, the images of our risky act still fresh in my mind, I got myself off almost immediately.

Once my heartbeat had slowed to its normal pace I quickly washed myself and got dressed.
I came down the stairs to find Erich conversing with my mother. Small talk. Something about the weather.
When my mother saw me she remarked that I looked flushed and asked if I had a fever coming on.
“He’s not feeling well,” Erich answered for me.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

That evening he took me out into the woods, telling me he wanted to “make love to me under God’s starry sky”.
As usual I had no say in the matter and quietly went along, expecting a very unpleasant experience.
This time I was wrong.
He saw to my every need and went out of his way to make certain I was as comfortable as possible. I felt like a girl being courted by her lover.

He chose a grassy spot on the top of a hill overlooking the town and asked me what I thought. As touched as I was surprised to be included in the decision making, I nodded in agreement and was rewarded with a smile.

As the sun set he began to undress me, freeing up only my lower body, leaving me the rest of my clothes and holding his body close to mine so I wouldn’t freeze. Then he spread out his coat for me to lie on. With an uncharacteristic tenderness he kissed me as he gently lowered me down to the ground. The way his tongue caressed mine made my cock stiffen. Never before had I looked forward to sex with such anticipation.

With a trembling hand he slowly undid his trousers and released his erection. It was one of the few glimpses I got of it, though I had felt it in me many times.
I envied him for how perfectly proportioned it was with the rest of his body, wishing mine were more like it.
Katherine had often told me I needn’t feel ashamed of being so “blessed” as she put it, but her well-meaning remarks always embarassed me and I secretly wished I was smaller. Normal.
Like Erich. His penis was the perfect size. Big enough to be aesthetically and physically pleasing, but not so big as to invite embarassing comments.

Erich’s mouth returned to mine and straightaway my insecurities were forgotten.
He nestled between my legs and supported himself on his hands. I felt his naked erection pressed warm and hard against my thigh and my muscles tensed involuntarily.
His hand brushed my swollen cock and I flinched as his icy cold fingertips made contact with its sensitive head. It was the first time that evening that I became aware of the cold. Although my arousal rendered me numb to the chilly air, autumn had most definitely come.

Locking his steel blue eyes on mine as he always did, he held his cock to my anus, poised to penetrate me.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked.

I stared back at him silently.
It was not really a question, more of a challenge.
He was playing with me.

“I want to hear you say it, Gustl.”

There was a smirk on his face but his tone was serious.
Feeling slightly humiliated (which was, no doubt, his aim) I hesitated.

He brought his mouth to my ear and said, “What’s the matter?
All you have to do is ask.”

His hot breath made my skin tingle.
Taking hold of my rigid cock he slowly ran his thumb over my wet slit, which only made me wetter with desire.
He let out a self-satisfied laugh.

“You’re aching for it, aren’t you?”

When I still did not answer he tightened his grip and I gasped in pleasure and pain, my back arching impulsively.

“You little tease,” he scolded playfully, releasing my cock and taking his own in his hand.
He pressed it right against my opening and I felt that he was wet too.

“You want it,” he said sternly. “Ask me and it’s yours.”

My pride crumbled in the wake of my lust.
I was so worked up I would have done anything for him at that point.
Not only did I want it, I needed it.

“Fuck me,” I pleaded.

He shook his head, his grin widening.

“Louder. Say my name.”

Obediently I complied.

“Fuck me, Erich!” I exclaimed breathlessly.

His mouth devoured mine fervently and I reciprocated his kiss every bit as ardently.
My loins ached with the most acute longing, a sensation that only deepened as he drew our kiss out.

He took his time as he entered me, stroked the side of my face lovingly as he slipped past my barrier and embedded his full length inside me.
In sharp contrast to his little mind game moments ago, he made love to me slowly, tenderly, but every bit as passionately as he had done before.

He didn’t speak much to me that night, but his touch lovingly communicated all that needed to be said.

~ ~ ~ ~
I opened my eyes to a pitch black sky strewn with stars.
How long had I been asleep?
Erich slept serenely on top of me. He was still inside me and his body was draped warmly over mine like a blanket.

Lying there beneath him, I struggled to keep my eyes open. My fatigue from the lack of sleep the previous night had caught up with me. Vaguely I recalled nodding off moments after Erich had climaxed. Apparently he had done the same.
His recklessness was rubbing off on me.
I shuddered to think of how late it was. My parents would be worried sick.

“Erich, get up.”

Slowly he stirred as his dark lashes fluttered open.
“What is it?” he demanded groggily.
“We have to go,” I whispered despite the fact that we were alone and in the woods.
Force of habit.

He made no attempt to get up, nestling his head closer to my neck instead.
His hot mouth opened on the cool skin of my throat and he idly licked and kissed me.
“Relax,” was all he said in reply.

I felt his cock move in and out of me, stiffening in preparation for an encore. He let out a small moan of contentment that shook me to the core.
A minute ago I was determined to rush home. How instantly my resolve had weakened.
I could have demanded that he stop. It was just so good that I didn’t want him to.

With a sigh of pleasure and resignation I succumbed to the depraved bliss that seized hold of my body; let it seep into my very soul. My sex awakened and every inch of my skin prickled with energy.

I breathed deeply as Erich took me.
This was where I belonged.

~ ~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sunday had always been a holy day; the one day Erich would ease up on me and let me spend time alone with my family. Although I knew he didn’t think much of my religion, he had always respected my beliefs. Not once in the course of our friendship did he give me a hard time about them or question why I attended mass every week with my parents, despite the fact that he himself had stopped going years ago.

Once he joked about the necessity of me telling my priest what we got up to (to which I retorted that I’d sooner bite off my own tongue than mention our deviant activities in confession) but that one comment aside he never said a word about it.

One Sunday he was waiting for me outside the church.
After politely greeting my parents he told me to come with him. There was something important he wanted to discuss with me, he said.
“Can’t it wait?” I asked.
“No,” was all he said in reply.
My mother smiled very fondly at him and then turned to me and told me to go ahead. Erich thanked her cordially, promising he would send me back in time for lunch and then took me by the arm and pulled me in the opposite direction.

I wondered what had happened now. When we had been walking for a good five minutes and he still hadn’t said a word to me, I asked him what was going on. He simply smiled and said there was something he wanted to show me, then he fell silent once again. We were heading toward the river.

Moments later we reached the bridge, but instead of crossing it Erich continued on a slanted course that led us to a steep hill. He quickly began negotiating his way down it but I stopped. He had almost reached the bottom when he realised I was no longer with him.
“Oh come on, Gustl!” he shouted up impatiently.
Hesitantly I followed him down the grassy slope until I felt level ground beneath my feet. Looking around me I found myself in a shadowy spot under the great bridge. The Danube echoed off the stony ceiling as it flowed past us. Right away I knew he had not brought me here to talk.

“How was church?” he asked teasingly as he stepped closer, wearing the mischievous grin I knew only too well.
I averted my eyes as he stroked my face.
Lifting my chin gently with one hand, his other groped me between my legs as he leaned in and kissed me. I backed away from him slightly. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“What does it look like?” he said as he took a step forward and resumed fondling me through my nicest Sunday trousers. My cock swelled straight away at his touch, defying me yet again. Pulling me to him he inserted his tongue in my mouth and kissed me passionately. My reluctance dissolved and I yielded to his kiss, his touch. Before I knew it my arms were wrapped around him and pulling him closer to me.

Still massaging my tongue with his own, he tugged at my belt and moments later I felt his hand slide down the front of my pants. His fingers wrapped around my now hard and dripping cock and he slid my foreskin slowly up and down my shaft until I let out a little moan of pleasure. Then he turned me around and bit my neck gently, muttering “good, isn’t it?” before his hand moved back down between my legs.

He held his body close to mine and began rubbing his erection against my arse in a highly suggestive manner as he masturbated me. I placed a palm to the cool wall of the bridge to steady myself and he pressed himself more firmly against me, his strokes becoming harder and faster.
I came in no time.
Placing my forehead to the refreshingly cool stone, I gasped for breath. After a minute I turned to face Erich and saw him smiling patiently.
“You ok?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Good,” he said as he moved a bit closer.

I watched him unbutton his trousers and take out his cock as I leaned against the wall panting. It was fully engorged and the head throbbed a deep shade of red. He ran his hand, still warm and slick with my cum, down his shaft and told me to turn around. Obediently I did.

Pushing me up against the wall, my face and hands pressed hard against the cold stone, he slid into me with relative ease and wasted no time before he set about fucking me. At first he tried to regulate his strokes, but with a loud moan of blissful resignation he abandoned the attempt and rammed into me repeatedly, thrusting into me faster and harder.
In less than a minute he was coming loudly, clinging to my body as he sighed deeply, contentedly.

He kissed my neck as his breathing gradually returned to normal.
“I can taste the soap on your skin,” he purred as he pulled me to him possessively. “And smell the incense in your hair,” he added.
“You’re wicked,” I said with a grin.
“And you’re a sinner,” he replied, sinking his teeth into my shoulder.
He was right, but at that moment the shame I was supposed to feel just wasn’t there.
“You led me astray,” I reproached him playfully. “Couldn’t this have waited until tomorrow?”
Erich dragged his teeth over my skin and I could hear the smile in his voice.
“I can’t help myself. You feel so good.”

~ ~ ~ ~

© by Hanna Loftus

21.7.08

Thanks to Ash for tasting my half-baked biscuits :) -hanna

"Christian"

2008-06-24T12:10:00.057+02:00

Vienna, 1907

“Gustav!” a warm and familiar voice called and I turned to find a fellow student smiling at me, his hands buried deep in his coat pockets to stave off the chilly April breeze.

“Ah, hello Christian!” I called back, returning his smile as he approached me and shook my hand.
After the customary comments on the cold weather he asked where I was going, and when I replied that I was on my way to look at a flat, he stopped me.

“Moving?” he asked. “Whatever do you mean?”

Torn between a genuine desire to be polite and not to be late for my appointment with a potential landlord, I quickly filled him in on how my best friend and flatmate Erich had, without warning, vacated his room and I found myself either forced to pay for a double room or to seek out new accommodation.
He listened intently, a sympathetic look on his face.

I’d met Christian in my first year at Uni and we had hit it off immediately.
I always felt welcome in his presence. He was easy to talk to and a colourful character to be around.

I’d often suspected that there was something different about him, but only because he was so nonverbal when the rest of us were conversing about the fairer sex. To all outward appearances he was a healthy, normal young man. He was by far the most handsome of my friends and certainly one of the most interesting, and yet he never spoke of the inevitable success we were all certain he enjoyed with the young women in the city.

It wasn’t until about half a year later that I first entertained the thought that he could be—the word was practically foreign to me then—homosexual.

A couple of mutual acquaintances had been discussing him in my presence one day and commented on his sexual preferences in no uncertain terms. There was no malice in their words. In fact they mentioned it rather casually, perhaps with a hint of sympathy as one would report a colleague having come down with the flu.

I remember how appalled I had been at their accusations, how I had stood up for Christian, retorting that it was absurd and uncalled for to defame a young man’s character in such a way. Still I couldn’t shake the feeling that what they were saying was true.

It was such an alien concept to me that it took me days to wrap my head round it and even longer to accept that someone I knew and liked so well was really 'like that'.
But once I had finally come to grips with it, I was determined not to let it influence my feelings for Christian or allow it to affect our relationship.

That was a year ago. He and I were close friends now. Not close on the same level as Erich and me, but of all my friends from the conservatory Christian was the one I felt I could relate to the most.
Though in the back of my mind I was always aware of what I’d found out about him, over time it became easier to ignore.
So what if it was true?
It’s nothing to do with me, I told myself.

First I thought he was just being polite when he offered to let me stay at his place instead. I routinely thanked him and insisted it was not necessary, but he wouldn’t hear of it.

“So it’s settled then?” he asked, putting it more as a statement than a question.
Though I hated the thought of imposing on his hospitality, he made it clear that this was far from being the case. After his insisting we say no more about it I reluctantly accepted. And a few weeks later as I packed my things in preparation for the move, I found myself actually looking forward to spending the summer with him.

****

I had never seen such a luxurious apartment in all my time as a student.
Not only was it spacious, with characteristic Viennese high ceilings and double doors, but it was tastefully decorated in the most modern style as well.
My friend was obviously from a well-off family. Another of his dirty little secrets.

He put me in the guest room which held the biggest bed I had ever seen.
I had never slept on satin sheets before, and as my eyes traversed the dark outlines of the great room that night I couldn’t help but feel awe at what luxury I was going to be living in over the next few months.

After only a few days Christian and I had already settled into a comfortable routine of setting off for class together, visiting the opera most nights and going out for drinks on the rest.
By the end of the first week I truly felt like I was home.

My thoughts often turned to Erich. I'd left a forwarding address with our old landlady but as weeks passed without a word from him I eventually gave up hoping. I wondered where he'd gone to, why he had left so suddenly, and whether he was alright. But I was not overly concerned about his well being and was confident he would contact me when he felt the time was right.

One Friday evening in early July Christian and I were stuck in on account of the miserable weather. Somewhat perturbed that we couldn't go out, we settled into the grand living room, the gramophone playing softly in the background as the rain pelted the windowpanes.
Fortunately Christian was never short of interesting conversation material, and what started off as a drab evening quickly evolved into one filled with lively and captivating discussion.

Having shared a flat with him for the past six weeks, we'd got to know each other so well that he no longer tried to hide his true nature.
Without either of us directly saying it, it was obvious to me that he knew I knew his secret.
He was now somewhat more forthright in the remarks he made about men and women than I'd previously known him to be. The true Christian behind the facade of social decency was even more delightful and charming, I thought as I sat opposite him that rainy evening.

We were discussing another of our mutual friends who was studying to become an opera singer, when Christian commented, somewhat exaggeratedly, on how he was the embodiment of male perfection.

“Stop” I said playfully. “You’re hurting my feelings.”

Christian laughed warmly.

“My dear Gustav, surely you do not need me to tell you how perfect you are.”

It could have been dismissed as a light-hearted comment, except the way he said it was filled with significance.

Silence fell between us. Neither of us uttered a word.

He had a way of speaking that sometimes made it impossible to discern when he was joking and when he was being serious.

A faint smile graced his lips, though it was clear that now he was serious.
Suddenly so was I.

“You… you don't really mean that, surely,” I managed to say.

He looked at me intently. Then he answered with sincerity.

“Could I have lost my heart to anything short of utter perfection?”

Our light conversation had taken an abrupt turn.

For the longest time I was at a loss for words.
I'd never before been paid a more beautiful compliment, but that it had come from another man--from him-- was disturbing to me.

I was baffled, but my curiosity eventually got the better of me and I had to ask him.

“You’re saying — you have feelings… for me?”

Christian’s expression was one of slight discomfort. He broke eye contact, but his voice was confident.

“Feelings for you? That’s putting it rather mildly.”

A flood of different emotions hit me all at once.
Shock, disbelief, confusion, fear…

A heavy silence descended. Neither of us looked at the other.
I was too wrapped up in my own reaction to wonder what was going through my friend’s mind.

Finally I spoke.
“How long?”
It was all I could say.
I still couldn’t bring myself to look at him.

He paused a moment before replying.
“Since the day we met.”

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
“Why didn’t you say anything to me?” I demanded in a voice that betrayed how weak a handle I had on this news, realising it was a stupid question the moment I’d asked it.
He didn’t answer.

My pulse raced with emotion. I struggled to keep my voice steady although I was terrified.
“What… sort of feelings… exactly?”

Christian looked at me tenderly before lowering his eyes.

“Not the sort one talks about in polite society,”

“I don’t understand,” I said honestly.
“I don’t expect you to understand, Gustav.”
He suddenly sounded much older than his twenty years.

“Help me to understand,” I countered quietly.
More silence. Then he sighed.

“Have you ever wanted something you knew you couldn’t have?” he asked, though it sounded more like he was talking to himself.

I let the question settle in the air.
Of course I had.
Hasn’t everyone?

“What is it you want, Christian?” I asked seriously.
He shook his head gently.
“I can’t tell you,” he replied in a condescending tone that made me feel about five years old.
This I found too provoking to dismiss.

The words came out of my mouth before I had time to think them through.

“Show me then.”

I had never seen him caught off guard before.
I had actually managed to render him speechless.

How far are you willing to take this? his eyes seemed to ask.
I was asking myself the same thing whilst trying to appear cool, composed.

“Are you serious?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper. All his characteristic playfulness had long since gone, replaced by a sober earnestness.
I did not answer. I couldn’t find the words to do so.

Finally he moved closer and leaned in toward me.
For a second I wondered if he would kiss me and didn’t know how I felt about that.

But the kiss never came.

Instead I followed his eyes as they fell to where his hands began calmly unfastening my belt.
I did not stir, but simply remained sat in the same position. Not because I was too shocked to stop him, but because I could think of no reason to do so.

I felt a stirring inside. Not quite one of arousal, but more of curiosity.

I watched him in silence. His movements were composed but concentrated. He undid the clasp and slipped the leather strap smoothly out through the buckle, leaving my belt hanging open at either side.

Again he paused to check my reaction.
This time I nodded ever so slightly and gave him a little smile to signal my willingness.
Male or not, his eagerness intrigued me. That he was so attracted to me really played on my vanity, and the fact that he was so attractive himself did not hurt things either. Besides welcoming this curious new development, I now found myself growing steadily more excited by it.
By him.

Emboldened, he then set about gracefully undoing my trouser buttons, one at a time, until they too were hanging open at either side, exposing my underwear. Both his gaze and mine fell upon the soft outline of my loins beneath the thin layer of fabric.

He hesitated before moving on, revelling in the anticipation as one would before tearing the wrapping paper off a gift.
This was his favourite bit, I could tell.
I felt a bit of a thrill myself.

Slowly and more determinedly he pulled my underwear down toward him, slipping the waistband little by little over my cock, exposing me completely and taking a good look at the hidden piece I had to offer.
By now my growing excitement had manifested itself physically and my friend was pleased with what he saw.

Releasing a small sigh of excitement, he undid the top button of his shirt, loosening the collar. And looking quite sexy while doing so, I couldn’t help but notice with a little smile.

Then he placed his hand on my penis and began slowly rubbing me, his eyes alternating between intently studying every inch of my sex, and traversing up to my own eyes, which were in turn studying him.

Strange as it may sound, I didn’t feel the least bit uncomfortable at having him touch me so intimately.
It was the first time I'd felt another man’s hand.
And it felt good.
Very good, in fact.

His touch was gentle but firm, rhythmically sliding my foreskin up and down, making me grow stiffer by the moment.
There was a patience to his touch that communicated he was in no rush to bring me to climax just yet. That he was content to take his time with me and that I should relax and let it happen.
I inhaled audibly as his fingertips met with my exposed cock head, causing it to twitch in response.

Semi erect now, he took my cock properly in his hand and began stroking it more steadily, more confidently. I was surprised indeed to find what a beautiful sight it was--albeit an unnatural one-- to behold my handsome young friend manually pleasuring me.

It was not long before he had stroked me to full arousal, and he made no attempt to hide how impressed he was at the sight of my engorged erection at full mast. This embarrassed me slightly—others’ reactions to my size always made me uncomfortable, despite their being intended as compliments—but I was too turned on to be bothered by it for long.

Blushing faintly, I settled further back into the plush chair, moving my lower half a little closer to him. He eagerly pulled my trousers and underwear down a few centimetres over my hips, just enough to expose my arse and free up my swollen testicles, which he took firmly in his left hand and fondled skilfully before he resumed masturbating me slowly. I closed my eyes a moment and sighed in pleasure. My erection throbbed madly now as my own juices seeped from the slit of my cock, wetting the head and slowly dribbling down my shaft, making it glisten.

Gradually he slowed and then stopped his movements, still holding me in his hand a moment before releasing me and seating himself back on the floor between my legs.

Still fully clothed, he looked perfectly at ease. Propping himself on his arms he leaned back. His legs were parted slightly and bent at the knees and he wore a satisfied look on his face.

My eyes fell on the visible bulge in his trousers. I noticed he was slightly flushed and I could hear his breathing over the soft music projecting from the corner of the room. His right leg swayed restlessly from side to side. I guessed he was wrapt in contemplation over his next move and my heart pounded with lust and anticipation.

It was plainly obvious what would happen next. We had already started down this path, and figured we may as well follow it and see where it leads.

Christian spoke first.
“Would you like it if I…” he began in earnest, but with no intention of finishing the question. Perhaps he was too bashful, or maybe it was so obvious what he meant that he found uttering the last few words unnecessary.

The question hung in the air for a few seconds. I let the silence draw out a moment or two, savouring how good it felt as I looked deeply into his eyes. It dawned on me that there was nothing in the world I wanted more than for him to…
well…
whatever he wanted to do to me.
I badly wanted to get off.

My eyes still on his, I whispered almost inaudibly, “Would you?”

I caught a flicker of relief in his expression, quickly partnered with a coy little grin.
“Ask me,” he replied flatly, inching closer.

Our eyes remained locked as we mutually tried to take in each other’s every move, interpret every little tremor, facial expression or hesitation.
We could have been two expert chess players locked in a battle of wits. I had been challenged and now it was my move.

“Please…” I felt my mouth form the appeal, though I could scarcely recognise the trembling, breathless voice that uttered the word as my own.
I was overwhelmed by an immense desire I didn’t know what to do with, and as Christian’s eyes bored into me, they left no doubt that he could see right through me, could read my every thought.

He shifted around to kneel between my legs and glanced at my exposed erection, still throbbing insistently, still gleaming with lust and burning for release.
I felt so naked, so exposed before him, but I did not feel shame.

I closed my eyes tightly and waited, every nerve of my body awakened as the pounding of my heart filled my ears.

The warmth of his hand enclosed around the base of my cock, directing it away from my body and out toward him, his breath cool and sharp on its soaked and swollen tip. Then at once the hot, wet smoothness of his mouth engulfed the head and I nearly recoiled at how blissful it felt.

My back arched and my pelvis thrust upward, making him take me further into his mouth. My moans of pleasure immediately entwined with each laboured breath as he began to suck me expertly, lovingly.
His mouth was heaven. I immediately surrendered myself to the sheer ecstasy of it.

He took his time as he worked up and down the length of my rigid shaft, spoiling me with his mouth and tongue in ways no girl ever had.

His hand caressed my balls, brushing them lightly with his fingertips before grabbing them more firmly, but it was not painful. Either he knew exactly where the line between pleasure and pain lay, or I was aroused beyond the point of registering any discomfort.
I didn’t care. I could only feel.

The first sensation was then replaced by a second, even more pleasurable sensation as one of his fingers cautiously made contact with my arsehole and began rubbing it gently.
This elicited a more guttural groan from my throat and my body automatically responded to his touch. My arse scooted further off the edge of the armchair and my legs opened wider for him, independent of any rational thought.

Sprawled out almost horizontally now in my chair, I laid myself out completely for him and he took the hint, pressing his finger more firmly against my opening. He continued to rub my sphincter in tiny circular motions all the while as he alternated between worshiping my cock and my testicles with his mouth.

I was so caught up in the multiple sensations Christian was bestowing upon me I didn’t even feel his finger penetrate me, but was soon aware of the feeling of it moving slowly in and out of my anus. This sent me instantly over the edge and I felt the tension of a fast-approaching orgasm grip my body.

It was so animalistic, so shamelessly uninhibited.

This is wrong, I thought as wave after wave of physical gratification washed over me.

Unable to hold myself back any longer I surrendered, letting myself come endlessly into his exquisite mouth, which he kept upon my cock, taking in every last drop until I was spent.

* * * *

Night had fallen. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, and the humid summer heat still hung over the city.
I had stripped my clothes off and opened all the grand windows in a feeble attempt to cool down, but all that came into the room was a warm breeze.
Christian was in the bath and I lay in the dark trying hard to gather my thoughts.

My pulse was still fluttering as images of what had just happened replayed before my mind’s eye, and for a moment I wondered whether it was possible for the heart to get worn out from exhaustion. Mine had been racing non-stop for the better part of the evening.

Alone in my room now I lay back on the large bed, a thin sheet covering my nude body.
The silky fabric felt cool against my skin.

For some reason my thoughts meandered back to a hot summer night the previous year.
It was back when Erich and I were still best friends sharing a cramped room.
Before he had vanished from my life.

I had awoken from a recurring dream; one that visited upon me often, though the details varied.

I had dreamt of the two of them. Together.

Wide awake, with a familiar feeling of envy in the pit of my stomach and an uncomfortably nagging erection, I looked over across the small, dark room at the outline of Erich sleeping peacefully in his bed.

I listened to the soft sound of his breathing, and immediately caught myself wondering how his breathing sounded when he was making love to her.

To my Lena.

This only evoked another, stronger pang of envy/arousal deep within me, coupled with a feeling of guilt.

I could not hate him. He was practically a brother to me.
And yet a part of me so yearned to hate him for taking her from me.
A part I was able to suppress most of the time, but which I struggled with that night as I watched him sleep.

I lay there observing him in silence for a minute or two, waiting patiently for my anger to subside.

Then, satisfying myself that he really was asleep, I proceeded to do something I very rarely did.

My hand slipped beneath the sheets and I began to masturbate as quietly as I possibly could.

I thought of the two of them as I jerked off.
Of him fucking her the way I so badly wanted to fuck her.

The ugly feeling of jealousy in my chest steadily lifted, giving way to the animal lust this image provoked in my nether regions.
My hand compulsively tightened its grip around my swollen cock and I let out a small cry of pleasure.

My heart stopped.
Had he heard that?

I turned to check, relieved to find my friend still fast asleep.

Returning to my self-play I willed myself to slow down, consciously controlled my breathing and stroked myself at a calmer, steadier pace.
The pace with which I was making love to her in my mind.
A warm wave of pleasure rose up in me at this thought as my hand continued its rhythmic movements.

I shuddered to think what Erich would do if he were to catch me pleasuring myself now, yet at the same time it turned me on enormously to know that there was a chance he could wake up.

Throwing caution to the wind I threw back the sheets with my free hand as my gaze once more turned toward my slumbering friend, defying him to wake up as I continued my right-handed assault.

I recall asking myself even then whether I was projecting some of my feelings for her onto him.
Or whether I was in love with both of them.

The whole thing made me confused and frustrated, so like most unpleasant thoughts I suppressed it.

It was not without a renewed twinge of Catholic guilt that I lay there, wanking myself off openly now to the fantasy of fucking my best friend's girl—my girl— in front of him.

The thought of him watching us together so aroused me that I had to bite my lip hard to keep myself from climaxing there and then…

Christian appeared at the open door of my room, bringing my thoughts back to the present.
“Come in” I said in a subdued tone, slowly sitting up.
His timing could not have been more perfect.

He, too, was naked except for the towel draped around his hips which he held closed at the side. There was an awkward shyness now, in both of us. Now we had both had time to think about what we had done.

“Can we talk?” Christian asked, his confident self re-emerging.
I nodded, adding “Afterwards.”
I was already hard and clutching my erection in my hand. He didn’t need much coaxing and was soon devouring me with renewed dedication.
He sucked me long and deep, taking his time just as he had before. As I had already come earlier in the evening I was able to enjoy it much longer this time round.

His moist skin shimmered in the veiled moonlight as his soft lips moved up and down my cock.

The storm began to intensify outside, as if reflecting the passion within these walls. Thunder rolled in the distance and the wind picked up, getting gradually louder.

Now his hands were under my arse, moving my hips upward and I felt the warmth and silky wetness of his mouth trail downward, pausing to pleasure my testicles again before continuing further downward. A lustful sigh escaped my lips as I felt the firmness of his tongue exploring my back entrance, cautiously at first, then increasingly more daring.

The heat of his breath and his skilled mouth was so intense as he licked me.
All at once, every intimacy I had ever known up to this point was forgotten.
How could I have been ignorant of such immense pleasure for so long?

Probing my anus forcefully with his tongue as though intent upon penetrating me fully, his fingernails dug into my thighs. I inhaled sharply, not wanting to come just yet.
The feeling was so powerful I grabbed the bars in the headboard behind me to brace myself.

Eventually his mouth moved back to my cock, which was dripping wet with precum and saliva.
I gave in to my lust. It had free reign over me now.

“Christian?” I said out of breath, stroking the side of his face.
He pulled back and glanced up at me.

I spoke in a low voice, as though I feared we’d be overheard.
“Can I fuck you?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he replied with a quiet sigh.

21.6.2008
© by Hanna Loftus

Heartfelt thanks to the lovely Ash for her brilliant editing
-hanna

"Franz"

2008-06-24T12:08:00.025+02:00

While the summer of 1907 marked my first sexual encounter with another man, it was not to be the last. Another occured the following year with a conductor in Vienna I was working under.

No pun intended.

One evening we’d imbibed that tad bit too much spirits and I suppose you could say male bonding was taken to another level.
He was heterosexual as well, but our sexuality had little to do with it.

The year was 1908. It was the third year of my music studies at the conservatory.

Franz was about ten years older than me and occasionally visited our class to lecture or give instruction as he was too young to acquire the position of a professor at the time, though he was on good terms with all of the teachers and many of the students.

A respected young conductor, he was a mentor of sorts to me, having already achieved the status I could only dream of someday nearing.
I rather looked up to him but he had always treated me as an equal, despite the differences in our age and social standing. Somehow his status was never an issue between us, or at least he never gave me cause to feel that it was, and I was immensely proud of the fact that I had earned his respect at such a young age. He had seen potential in me and it was as though he had already given me credit in advance for the greatness he was certain I would achieve.

We’d always got on quite well as colleagues, and over time we’d developed something akin to a professional friendship.
He was a handsome, accomplished man of about thirty and married to an attractive woman from Salzburg who was a couple of years his senior. I’d met and spoken to her on numerous occasions when I’d had the honour of being invited to dine with them at their beautiful home in one of the nicer parts of the city.

In comparison, the scruffy 25m² behind the Westbahnhof I returned to every evening was a constant reminder to me of my lowly position in society, at least for the time being.
I would never have dreamt of inviting my peers back to my modest dwelling, let alone the great conductor himself. But as chance would have it, one evening after attending a spectacularly performed Handel concert, he invited himself.
It was not the only surprise fate had in store for me that night.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Our first stop after the performance was a local Kaffeehaus where we had a satisfying go, as usual, at picking apart each detail concerning the orchestra, good-naturedly finding fault where we could. He’d already ordered his second cup of melange and I was still working on my first.
The man loved his caffeine and was a regular at half of the cafes around the city.

After having finished our coffee, we moved out into the unusually warm October evening, chatting all the while—him doing most of the talking and myself agreeing or contributing when appropriate.

Despite our being jovial with one another, you should probably be aware, as I was, that the fact that he was older and more accomplished than me played something of a power role in our relationship. Although we were friends in our private time, to me he was always my teacher in the first line.

We’d not agreed on a set destination, opting instead to amble along the streets and through the parks of Vienna. It was only when I heard him say “You live around here, isn’t that right, Gustav?” that I realised we’d happened upon the vicinity of my street. I’d been so engrossed in our discussion I hadn’t paid attention to where we were going. Somewhat ashamed, I nodded.

Without a hint of sarcasm or judgement Franz exclaimed, “Well then, you shall have to give me the grand tour!”

Hesitantly I led the way to my flat, silently cursing myself all the while for having let us end up here.

Somewhat reluctantly I welcomed him into my little home, apologizing for the state of my cramped quarters. He quipped about his own humble beginnings and said something about great men having to start somewhere. This pleasantly surprised me and put me at ease.

I rummaged through my tiny pantry, coming across an expensive bottle of schnapps I’d been given by a fellow student on my last birthday but had never opened, so I could at least offer him something. There was not a morsel of food in the flat.

He seemed to pay no mind to my underwhelming abode and while I poured our drinks our discussion instantly picked up where it had left off.

We drank to our friendship, to what he termed my “brilliant future” and nearly everything else he could come up with to toast.
The clear liquid burned my throat and warmed my belly.
I was soon feeling relaxed and content, and finding it much easier to chat with him.

With a few drinks inside us, the barriers between us gave way to a comfortable frankness usually shared between good friends of considerable years.

Franz was on the subject of the fairer sex by the time I’d got up to light the lamp. Its glow bathed the room in the dimmest of light, but it was rather cosy. We’d got through about half of the liquor by now, the subject matter of our conversation growing progressively raunchier the more we drank.

His inhibitions dulled, he meandered onto the topic of sex. And although an unorthodox area for our discussions thus far, it was not at all unwelcome or unpleasant.
Soon he was regaling me with tales of his conquests during his years at the conservatory, some in subtle terms, others in surprisingly forthright detail.

This adds a whole new dimension to the man, I thought as I listened to his portrayals of an oversexed youth so similar to myself, and I could effortlessly picture the scenarios he laid out for me.

He then probed me about my own adventures, asking me whether the girls at the conservatory were as sex mad as he’d known them to be during his own studies.
I blushed at the bluntness of his question.
It summoned images of my own hours with those very girls and I felt a stirring in my stomach. I uttered a hushed reply that I did not know.

“Ah, you are a dark horse, Gustav!” he replied with a broad smile.

I was struck by an intense look of tenderness in his eyes I’d never seen before. Not knowing what to say, I simply smiled back and had another drink, which he did as well.

It all happened so suddenly I barely had time to react.

His drink still in his right hand, his left fell to his crotch and he began rubbing himself as though it were the most natural thing in the world. It was only then that I became aware of his aroused state, of the clear outline of his erection straining against the material of his trousers.

I felt a subdued awe at his shamelessness regarding his arousal, and I felt my own body swiftly respond in turn. Fuelled by a mix of curiosity, lust and intoxication, Franz grew bolder.

“Come here.”

He said it softly, but the tone of his voice rather urged more than asked me to comply. I was confused and flustered, my pulse quickening. It was like a strange dream in which the dreamer knows he is dreaming.

Feeling hot and uncomfortable I obediently moved closer to my friend, and he averted his gaze. Franz nipped at his drink and set it down on the table. Then, taking the glass from my hands, he set it down next to his.

“Touch me,” he said, lowering his gaze to indicate where he meant (as though it were necessary).

Not believing I had understood him correctly, my puzzled expression must have betrayed my bewilderment.

“Christ, Gustav, don’t be so uptight,” he countered impatiently.

He sounded a bit tipsy but was still his lucid self.
His eyes fell on mine, a slight grin adorning his face as he slowly undid his trousers, freeing up his rigid erection.

“Here. Touch me,” he repeated.

Hesitantly I reached out my hand and brought it to his proud erection. It was incredibly hard. And hot.
It responded immediately to my touch.

It was the first time I had touched another man’s cock. Strange sensation though it was, it was not at all repulsive to me.

I heard his breath escape his throat in a quiet moan of pleasure. Though my focus was fixed on what I held in my hand, I could feel his eyes upon me.
My mind was spinning from the alcohol and the rush of blood forced to my head from my racing heart.

Some distant but present part of me found this undeniably arousing.
His hand closed around mine and guided it up and down the length of his shaft. I silently consented and he left me to it.
I carefully began pleasuring him as I would myself, my fingers wrapped tightly around his foreskin, moving my hand steadily up and down and hoping he was finding it pleasurable.
Franz sighed deeply and sat back, seemingly enjoying it.

I recall thinking this is a lot more difficult than it looks.
I’d instructed girls in the proper way to touch me on several occasions, directed their movements in such a way as to insure the utmost pleasure.
Finding myself now in a position where I had to give manually pleasure another man was, however, a different matter altogether.

As uncomfortable as my position was, Franz was my mentor and I wanted to please him.

After some time he stopped me and told me to have another drink. He pressed the glass into my hand and took over where I left off, steadily stroking himself.

Feeling somewhat affronted, I emptied the contents of my glass in one go, praying the liquid courage would hit me soon.

Franz finished off his drink as well and poured us new ones before settling back into the corner of the sofa.
He rested his hand between his legs again, and idly ran his fingertips along the length of his cock, all the while looking at me but not saying a word.
His erection had subsided a bit, as had mine.

For a second I wondered if he had noticed I’d been aroused too, then decided I didn’t really care if he had.

“You ever had a girl play with you like that, Gustav?” Franz asked, a little smile gracing his handsome face.

The sexual tension returned again in a heartbeat, only this time I didn’t feel as uncomfortable.I found it was actually pleasant.
Arousing even.

The last shot of schnapps had gone straight to my head and was doing its work brilliantly.I merely smiled and lowered my gaze in reply.

“I’ll bet you have,” he purred, his eyes studying me… analysing me.
“And? How was it?” he coaxed, genially.
“Did you like it?”

Summoning up my strength, I met his glance and held it.
I felt a sudden lurch of desire as I realised how attractive Franz was. It was not entirely dissimilar to the feeling of falling for a girl, I thought.

“The best is when a beautiful girl takes you with her mouth,” Franz continued as if talking to himself, lost in his own thoughts. He resumed absent-mindedly running his fingertips up and down the length of his cock, which was now fully engorged and a deep shade of purple.

His words were audibly breathy now.

“Have you ever had a girl suck your cock, Gustav?”

His eyes travelled over my face and up and down my body.
My heart was pounding.
I was hard and wet now, and dying for release. I couldn’t believe how turned on I was.

Swept up by the lust in his voice and his words I nodded yes.

Franz responded with another little smile and tightened his grip around his rigid cock, clearly enjoying the mental picture of a pretty young student going down on me.

“I knew it,” he replied with a grin.
“Handsome boy like you, the girls must be throwing themselves at your feet.”

Both flattered and embarrassed, I turned my eyes from his once more.

“Beauty is not a sin, my boy,” Franz said, reaching out to stroke my face.

His eyes lingered on mine for a moment as though trying to communicate something that could not be put into words. Then he picked up his glass and drank eagerly.
Wishing to numb my senses and to relieve myself of the burden of rational thought, I did the same.

Replacing his empty glass on the table, Franz commented that he was beginning to feel the drink and settled back again, closing his eyes briefly.

Setting my now empty glass down, I rubbed my swollen, aching cock through my trousers.It was so hard it hurt to touch it, so I stopped. I looked over at Franz, who was still standing proud and had resumed staring at me intently.

Without a word he called me to him again and I obeyed.
He grabbed me firmly and put his mouth so close to my ear I could feel his lips forming the words. Smell the alcohol on his hot breath.
I felt my body tense up.

“Stop. Don’t fight it.”

Before I could fully understand what he meant he had turned me over, not roughly but with an urgency which communicated that his intentions were not to be questioned.

I was too numb and excited to feel scared, though my pulse raced at the thought of what he had in mind. He was pulling my clothes off of me and I could feel the familiar sensations of wild, unbridled arousal rising within me.

A little cry escaped my throat as he pushed me against the arm of the sofa. I clung to it, feeling my heart fluttering like a caged bird as I closed my eyes and breathed deeply.

He pinned me down with his body so I couldn’t move. I didn’t know if I wanted or was ready for this, but I didn’t attempt to fight it, and instead quickly braced myself for it.
Fumbling amateur that he was, he clearly had no clue as to what he was doing and was acting impulsively on pure lust.

His rigid member wet with only his saliva, he pressed it to my anus. I jerked as the discomfort hit me, inadvertently backing toward him and driving the head of his cock into me.

Before I could recover from the initial pain he thrust himself deep into me, penetrating me roughly and taking my breath away. I felt as though my insides were being ripped from my body.

His thrusts became more rhythmic. I was intoxicated by the alcohol. Overwhelmed by the acute agony and the shock of being fucked by another man, the reality hit me.
He was my friend and colleague.
He was a married man, for Christ’s sake!
No, this couldn’t be happening.

I struggled to pull my thoughts together as, somewhere far away, I was aware of Franz’s weight on me; of my wrists pinned down by his hands; of him moving in and out of me steadily in long strokes, boldly having his way with me.

There was no tenderness in the act. No affection.
Just sex for its own sake.

My senses were dulled. Far away I could hear the sound of laboured breathing and after a few moments I realised that at least half of it was my own.

The pain faded to a dull throbbing ache as my body adapted to the onslaught and another opposing sensation overcame me. It was one of intense arousal and physical pleasure. I suddenly became very aware of my own nagging erection, pressed hard and uncomfortable against my stomach.

I willed myself to surrender to the pleasure of it. I was now lightly perspiring and I was certain that Franz was as well, despite the coolness of the room.

His thrusts were relentless and showed no signs of letting up. Perhaps it was the drink, or maybe the man was just blessed with inhuman endurance. All I know is that it felt like he’d been fucking me for hours. I had no concept of how long it had really been. The friction of his movements as he pounded into me pulled me closer and closer to the edge.

A newfound energy surged through my body and every nerve was switched on. I began to moan, only partially aware that I was doing so.
I was powerless to do anything but react.

My temperature rose further and my muscles tightened as wave after wave of pleasure seized me and an unusually vocal orgasm wrenched from my body. I’d never felt so uninhibited or come so hard before in my life.
This served to intensify Franz’s passion, and the rhythm of his thrusts increased, his strokes becoming noticeably harder and faster.

He didn’t try to contain his cries as he came inside me.
I couldn’t feel anything at that point but I knew he had finished.
His cock still buried deep inside me, he collapsed on top of me and waited for his breathing to return to normal. That was the last thing I remembered.
Physically and mentally exhausted, I must have passed out.

The next morning I awoke curled up in the armchair with a quilt around me.
I was still naked, my head pounding and it was cold.
I wrapped the blanket more tightly around myself as Franz appeared from the kitchen with a glass of water.
He gave me a warm little smile and told me to drink.

“I went to the bakery,” he added. “There’s fresh bread in there if you’re hungry.”
It was as though nothing had happened. For a moment I half-wondered whether last night had all been a strange dream, but the aching all over my abused body quickly put that theory to rest.

After we’d had breakfast and Franz left, I washed and dressed. I desperately needed affection after what I’d been through.
The young woman whose arms I slept in that evening was speechless at the sudden change in me.
No sex for once. I just kissed her and asked her to hold me.
So she did.

Franz and I never spoke about or repeated what happened that night.
It was neither shame nor denial.
It was just something we silently agreed not to make a big deal about.

I cannot explain why he did what he did, nor why I let him, for I do not entirely understand it myself.

As for Franz and me, we remained close friends until I graduated, married and moved away. After that our communication naturally dissolved, as tends to happen with time and distance.

24.4.08

"First Encounter with Katherine"

2008-06-24T12:06:00.009+02:00

~Linz, 1904~

Katherine was an exquisitely handsome woman of forty.
Being barren, she had never married, but owing to her family’s great wealth she’d never had to.
She spent much of her time in her large, stately old home. It was her castle and nothing was too good for it. She surrounded herself with the most lavish furnishings, carpets and artwork money could buy, and was constantly renewing and improving the mansion’s many rooms.

It was toward the end of the spring of 1904 when the young apprentice was sent out to the great house to put up the newest and finest wallpapering in one of the guest rooms.

Arriving on his first day of the new job, the boy was shown upstairs into a spacious room where his services would be required. There he was given various instructions by some men who he assumed were employed by the family who owned the house.
All the while Lady Katherine sat quietly, pretending to read by the large window in the far corner of the room.

The two noticed each other immediately, discreetly, as The Attractive instinctively do. Though she made a point of not acknowledging him, her interest was aroused upon her first stolen glimpse of him.

He was beautiful. Tallish, unruly sandy hair, handsome blue eyes and a gorgeous, intelligent face. Rugged but strikingly sophisticated all at once. Slim but strong.
Katherine resolved to get a closer look at the young man once the two of them were alone.

****
The boy was put to work and continued undisturbed until the late afternoon, when Katherine sauntered into the room, pausing a moment to observe him unnoticed before pleasantly summoning him to join her in the drawing room.

Taken aback by her invitation, the young man left his work and humbly followed her into the spacious and lustrously furnished room.
He tried hard not to betray to her how impressed he was with all he saw around him, but he was.

Suddenly very aware of how dirty he was, he did not wish to soil the fine things around him with his presence. This, however, did not seem to bother the lady in the least.
“Have a seat,” she said.

Obediently he sat and Katherine seated herself across from him, letting her eyes come to rest upon his.
There was a distinct warmth in her look which he had never before experienced from anyone of this handsome woman’s social standing.
A working class kid, the upper class normally tended to look down on him as one would some sort of insect, when they did look at him, that is.
But from the very beginning, Katherine was different.

Confused and nervous, young Gustav tried hard to meet her glance while he waited for her to speak. She smiled at him and he was captured instantly by her immense beauty. There was a purity and warmth in her face, rarely found in wealthy women of her age.
Vain as the young man was, he was hard pressed to find a single physical flaw in her.

She pressed a glass of fine port into his hand-- his first-- and encouraged him to drink.

“It will help you relax,” she said, continuing to smile warmly at him.
“You look like you could use an afternoon off.”
Thanking her, he drank.

Katherine gazed at him kindly and tilted her head slightly.
“What’s your name?” she inquired.
He answered, automatically giving her his family name.
She responded with a little smile.
“Your Christian name,” she corrected him softly.

“Gustav”, the young man replied.
She paused, taking in his name and trying it out in her mind.

“Tell me about yourself, Gustav,” she said softly.

Never having been in a similar situation before, Gustav was unaccustomed to talking about himself and did not know quite what to say.
Modestly he began telling her of his occupation.
Her eyes moved over him as he did so and he sensed this acutely.
Waiting for him to finish, she then pressed on with genuine curiosity,
“And besides work?”

Very soon Gustav had begun to feel the alcohol.
Both Katherine’s relaxed nature and the drink she had given him had served to lower his guard and his inhibitions somewhat.
Still, he did not know quite what to say to her, and fumbled to find the words.
Hesitantly he began to tell her of himself, his passions and his interests.
She listened attentively as he told her of his life--what little he had to tell, that is.

When he finished, a fond smile settled on her red lips. The image shot through the young man’s mind of what it would be like to kiss those lips, and he had to turn his eyes away lest the sensation overwhelm him.

“You’re very handsome, Gustav” she remarked sincerely as she took his glass from his hand to refresh his drink. He had not even noticed it was empty.
The young apprentice blushed slightly against his will, not knowing how to respond.

“You must hear that all the time,” Katherine purred moving ever so slightly closer to him.
Their eyes met again and an unmistakeable spark passed between them. Gustav could not help but wonder if he was dreaming, so surreal was the situation.

“If it’s not too forward of me to ask,” she said, “have you ever been in love?”

Hesitantly the young man nodded.
“I am in love.”

No jealousy registered in Katherine’s eyes, only sincere interest and approval.

“What’s her name?” she asked, her hand casually, familiarly, coming to rest upon his leg, making his pulse quicken.

“Lena” he replied.

A warm smile crossed Katherine’s gorgeous face as she paused to commit the name to memory.

“You’re going to marry her?” It sounded more like a general statement than a question.

When the young man did not answer, she ventured, “Doesn’t Lena return your feelings?”

“She doesn’t know," he confessed soberly. "About my feelings, I mean.”

“Do you think she suspects?” Katherine asked, innocent curiosity registering in her face.

Yes, Gustav thought.
Of course she does.
But instead he answered that he didn’t know.

Katherine studied the boy’s face for what seemed like ages before speaking again.
Lowering her voice for no one in particular (for the two were alone in the room), she spoke.

“Have you ever been with a woman, Gustav?” she asked, extending her hand and lovingly brushing a lock of hair from his forehead.

Blushing deeply and averting his eyes he shook his head.
“No.”
The very thought! He was only sixteen.

She moved closer to him now and his heart raced.

“When you marry her.. Lena…” she began, and he felt flustered at the effect of those words; the conviction in the woman’s voice, as though it were as sure to happen as the sun rising on a new day.
She was now sitting very close to him and he barely found the courage to meet her eyes with his.

“You want to be able to…” she hesitated half a beat before finishing, looking him straight in the eyes,
“to please her, don’t you?” she stated rather than asked him.

Ignoring the shock he felt at her question, the young man responded with automatic honesty, if a bit flustered.

“Yes. Very much so.”

For another moment Katherine studied his face and coveted what she saw. God, he is beautiful, she thought; and his innocence only emphasized his beauty.
She wanted him.

Touching his face almost timidly as if to ask ‘is this alright?’, she slowly brought her mouth to his and kissed him gently.
She felt him stiffen at her touch, but he did not withdraw.
Instead he slowly, insecurely but instinctively began to kiss her back.
He has much to learn, she happily thought to herself as their kiss drew on and then ended.

Her eyes moved downward and rested on the spot between the boy’s legs; something he barely had time to take in before her hand followed.

“May I..?” Another statement.

She looked to his face for any sign of resistance, of protest, but saw only virgin modesty.
His already stiff cock immediately responded to her touch.

He averted his eyes once more but could not hide his obvious arousal.
As if reading his thoughts, she sensed his discomfort, smiled, and assured him “it’s alright.”
Her words were uttered with the intention of calming him, but instead they only made him feel even more tense and exposed.

She brought her mouth to his ear, kissed his neck.
A tiny shudder passed through his body.
Functioning purely on instinct their mouths met and he felt vulnerable and helplessly aroused as she groped his erection, felt her sizing him up with her fingers.
Explored the impressive length and girth of him.
He was truly blessed.

Still kissing him deeply, she proceeded to undo first one, then slowly, very slowly, a second button and slip her hand into the young man’s now too-tight trousers.

Gustav closed his eyes, a wave of carnal lust overcoming him as he felt her hand upon his naked sex. He felt her eyes on him, too.

“Nice,” was the verdict she sighed lovingly in his ear before returning her mouth to his.
“Very nice.”

Though neither of them knew it at that moment, it was to be the start of Katherine’s four-year love affair with the young apprentice’s cock.

When their mouths parted, she spoke.
“Get undressed,” she said.
Her words penetrated him to his very core and it occurred to him that he must have met with her approval.
Humbled and with trembling hands he removed his clothes.

Emboldened by his obedience thus far, she ordered him to wash up, indicating the basin in the corner of the room.
Feeling slightly humiliated and yet undeniably aroused, he obediently went about washing himself while she watched.
First his hands, his face, his hair, then the rest of his body.

Katherine’s eyes beheld the splendour of his young form and a chill of excitement took hold of her, the like of which she hadn’t felt for a very long time.
Behind him he could hear her removing the clasps which held up her long, dark hair.
His heart raced.

Katherine watched for as long as she could, but soon her desire to touch him was too strong for her to resist.
She stood and approached him.

As he was finishing his task she embraced his body from behind, almost possessively, as though he were hers.
He felt her sweet breath hot on his ear as she generously complimented his body.
Felt her mouth kiss along his jaw then move to his neck as she reached around his waist and took his stiff member in her hand.
Gently grasping his silky foreskin, she slid it slowly back and forth.
Gustav closed his eyes and passively gave in as he felt her slowly-- agonizingly slowly--begin to pleasure him with her right hand.

Her left hand pressed against his chest, holding him close to her.
His knees felt weak and his head felt light as she gradually increased her movements, holding him even tighter as she did so.
The sensation was too much for the young man to bear.

He braced himself on the table in front of him and surrendered to the utter outrageousness of the situation as her expert hand brought him to climax.

Sighing deeply, breathlessly, she turned the boy’s face to her and kissed him.
Their kiss was more serious now. Full of intention.
Katherine felt him kiss her back, long and deep. Let him lead for a moment.

Her hand found his and pulled it to her. She guided it to her waist and he let it rest there a moment, feeling her heat before pulling her to him. His own ragged breathing echoed in his ears.

He knew what was going to happen but his mind struggled to keep up with his body, which was always a step ahead of him, it seemed.
Numbed ever so slightly by alcohol, yet aware of every nerve in his body, he felt Katherine take his hand in hers now and lead him over to a large, solid writing table at the far side of the grand room.

At her command the young apprentice was on his knees and she guided his handsome face to her hungry sex as she steadied herself on the edge of the table.
Mystified, he acted on sheer instinct, exploring and tasting her with his mouth.
Intoxicated by her scent, he was instantly turned on and Katherine felt it in the way he kissed her down there.
Though it was clearly the first time he had ever been in such a situation, for a beginner he showed great potential.

Gazing lovingly down at his handsome young face, she knew she had to have him.

She quietly turned her head to the left, looking over at the large bed in the corner of the room and bit her lower lip, grinning slightly as she looked back down at the fine-looking young man between her legs who was now looking back up at her, too stunned to return her smile.

Although Katherine was a lady who enjoyed life and had had many lovers, she still got a thrill at the thought of escorting boys such as Gustav into manhood.
And she would thoroughly enjoy showing this one a thing or two about lovemaking.

(to be continued..)
6.7.06

"Klaudia"

2008-06-24T11:57:00.006+02:00

Vienna, 1908

Friday morning. I was stewing alone in the flat.
My flatmate had gone out unexpectedly and told me he would be away a little while, and knowing him that meant I’d be able to get in a good five hours or so of practicing.

Not long after I had seated myself at the piano there was a gentle knock at the door.
I got up to answer it, a bit dishevelled.

“Good morning, Fräulein Novak!” I exclaimed.

Our lessons were normally on Mondays so I was caught off guard seeing her today.
She’d come to tell me the news. She had passed her exam and she had just felt the need to stop by and tell me how grateful she was for all my help.
I took both her hands in mine and gently squeezed them with a proud smile before breaking away.

“Oh,” she softly broke out, reaching into her purse.
“For this month…”
“I don’t want your money” I replied with a calm smile, turning from her.
“But I insist…” she began but I was adamant.
“It was my pleasure,” I said, shaking me head.
Confusion gave way to gratitude in her eyes and her smile quickly returned.

“Herr Redl, I don’t know how to thank you for all you’ve done for me.”

For a moment I could feel her wanting to say something else to me, but she was soon restrained by the sense of what was and was not appropriate. Instead she lowered her glance, blushing slightly.

I had her. I knew.

“Thank you ever so much for stopping by, and congratulations again” I said in the most condescending teacher’s voice I could conjure up. And with that I sent her on her way.

She’d be back.

****

At noon the next day there was a knock at the door.
Leaving my notes, a bit perturbed for I was not expecting company, I fleetingly checked my appearance in the glass before opening the door.

“Why, Fräulein Novak! What a pleasant surprise.” I exclaimed.
She looked paler than usual, worn, as if she hadn’t slept.

“Please, come in.”

She was all nervous smiles and blushes and scarcely dared enter when I motioned her into my modest quarters.
I invited her to have a seat which, reluctantly, she did.
She appeared shaken and at a loss for words.
I did not probe, but rather waited for her to speak.

To be honest I savoured the anticipation.

Her eyes were glued to the floor, her hands clenched tightly in her lap.
I let my eyes wander over her face, her body, and I knew she could distinctly feel me doing so.
Still she remained silent.

Though I myself felt no need for redundant words at this moment, it was obvious to me she was struggling for what to say.

Finally I got up and moved over to where she was, seating myself next to her on the piano bench.
Desperate now to utter an explanation for her presence she lifted her eyes to mine, but all she could manage was a breathless “I….”
It hung in the air a moment.

Then I leaned in and took her mouth with mine, sternly pulling her to me, a rush of excitement coming over me as I did so.
Naturally surprised by my actions she struggled a bit and I broke away from her to take in the expression on her face. She was clearly ambivalent.

“Why are you here?” I challenged her.

She could not meet my glance, and only shook her head, a blush settling on her pretty cheek.

Though we were the same age and attended the same conservatory, we had always adhered to the conduct of the proper teacher-student relationship since I’d begun tutoring her a few months ago.

She was now hopelessly adhering to said code, compelled to respect and obey me.
My tone of voice was authoritative but softened slightly.

“Why are you here, Klaudia?” I repeated, addressing her for the first time by her Christian name.

Her eyes still cast downward, she whispered
“I don’t know”.

This touched me in an inexplicable way. The silence between us returned and settled.
Suddenly she got up and made for the door, turning to mutter “I shouldn’t have come. Forgive me.”

“Klaudia,” I called softly but sternly, stopping her in her tracks.

I got to my feet and approached her.

“Do you find me attractive?”

What can I say? I was feeling naughty and was curious to see how far I could take this.
She stirred nervously, clearly upset by my forthrightness and tenacity, but this only emboldened me.

“Look at me” I commanded.

Obediently, but with great effort, she did. Her eyes pleaded with mine, although for what I could not be certain

“Answer me.” I pressed.

Her resolve crumbled.

“Yes, sir.”

I recoiled slightly at being addressed by a peer as such.

“Please,” I corrected her, taking her chin gently in my hand, “call me Gustav”.
This did very little to calm her. She trembled at my touch.

“I’m not going to hurt you” I said in almost a whisper, withdrawing my touch.
Her eyes met mine.
More silence followed.

“You’re free to go, if you wish” I added, searching her face for some sign of what she was feeling.
She made no attempt to leave, but only closed her eyes and shook her head.
Then she sat back down.
She didn’t want to go.

A stillness followed which was neither awkward nor tedious.
We let it pass, neither of us attempting to speak.
I held her gaze with mine, taking pleasure in the unspoken power I held over her before I leaned into her once more and kissed her, more gently at first this time.
She surrendered, parting her lips to accommodate me, bending to my will as I pulled her in to me.

I kissed her more deeply, fully aroused now.
The old familiar nagging, throbbing, washed over me. It was heaven.
Too long had I restrained my desires since moving to this sinful city. Too willing was I to give in to it.

Klaudia is a good girl, I reminded myself.
But this only made the prospect of corrupting her even sweeter.

I reached for her small hand and took it in mine, my mouth still seeing to hers.
I brought it down on my leg, just above the knee, and held it there.
Pausing now to catch my breath and to let her regain hers, I caressed the side of her face with the back of my free hand.

She did not shy from my touch this time, but closed her eyes and took it in.
My mouth was upon hers again, penetrating and in control.
Slowly but firmly I moved her hand upward…further arousing myself by taking my time, wallowing in the sweet anticipation, all the while kissing her in such a way as to confide to her my intentions.

At last I brought her hand firmly to my aching erection.
Her breathing wavered at the size of it but she did not struggle greatly and I did not let her pull away.
It was I who pulled my mouth away from hers when the time was right.
My hand still pressing hers onto me.

Flushed with excitement, my heart pounding, I brought my mouth to her ear.

“Do you feel this?” I inquired breathlessly.
“This is what you do to me.”

I released her hand and she withdrew it, abashed.
She averted her eyes from mine as I resolutely undid my belt and freed my throbbing sex from its confines.

Wordlessly I instructed her in what to do as I guided her head down into my lap.
I felt her mouth around my burning member and I shuddered with pleasure.
She passively held me in her mouth and taking a handful of her hair I gently pressed her down and pulled her back up, demonstrating to her what to do, relinquishing my hold on her when she began following my movements unaided.
Her amateurish attempt pleased me greatly and I pounded out one mixed ungodly chord on the piano keys behind me in my attempt to steady myself.

“Take off your scarf” I breathed and she released me in order to do so.

A part of me wanted to ask her if she was alright with what we were doing as I watched her fumble with and remove the pretty blue strip of silk adorning her neck. But I held my tongue, not yet willing to surrender my unchallenged power.
Clenching the scarf in my left hand I pushed her head back down, signalling to her to resume where we had left off.

“Don’t stop” I whispered pleadingly.
“That’s so good”.

Very soon the pressure became unbearable, and I had to sigh for her to stop, bringing the silk scarf to my manhood, I came as quietly as I possibly could (not wishing my landlady in the next room to know all about my private life.)
Then I pulled Klaudia up to me and kissed her deeply.
The taste of me still lingered on her.

My first lover, Madame Katherine’s teachings came rushing back to me that instant and I was gripped by the selfishness of my lust and actions.
I stood and helped the girl to her feet.

“Get on the bed” I ordered her.

Too overcome with desire to protest, she acquiesced.
I fastened my trousers and belt, grinning in spite of myself at the puzzled look in her eyes as she watched me do so.
It faded as I approached her, seated and trembling there on my flatmate’s bed.

“Lie back” I said softly, and she hesitantly complied.

I crawled onto the bed and positioned myself over her.
She was, no doubt, preparing for something very different to happen, but I had no intention other than of pleasing her.
Pulling up her skirts with my right hand and steadying myself on my left I pressed a finger resolutely to the right spot, which was easy enough for me to find.
Immediately her body tensed beneath me and she let out a small cry, either of pleasure or of pain.

I lowered my face to hers and thrust my tongue deep into her obliging mouth as I held my finger in place. I got her off in as short a time as she had me, taking an unselfish, vicarious pleasure from the compulsive arching of her back and smiling as I pressed my mouth firmly to hers to stifle her cries.

Below we heard the sound of the main door opening and scrambled to our feet.
As my flatmate entered the room a moment later I was as composed as I could be, given the circumstances.

Young Klaudia , still flushed, merely uttered a quick goodbye to me and ran out the door.

11.6.06
~~~~~~
© by Hanna Loftus

Thank you, Ash!!