Chapter 1:
For the first three months and the last three months of study leave, Stefan Blatt was based at the University of the Saarland in Saarbruecken. The accommodation provided for him was in the University’s guest-house. It was surrounded by a park-like forest, a ten-minute stroll from the university campus. This studio apartment became for Stefan his home base for most of his year in Germany.
When Stefan and Irmgard became lovers, he had an additional reason to stay in Saarbruecken, even though he had commitments in parts of Germany distant from the Saarland. Shortly after arriving in early September, he had met Irmgard by chance. One night, Stefan had gone to a cinema in the city centre. Before going home, he dropped in a nearby café for a beer and a late snack.
The café, situated in a lane, was an almost hole-in-the-wall, elongated, softly lit room. The front was furnished with a bar counter and stools. The back part, where food was prepared, had a corner bench with a table and chairs.
As it was unoccupied, and Stefan wanted something to eat, he chose to sit there. The owner and only person serving was a friendly, attractive woman in her thirties. She made him welcome. With little business at the front at the late hour, they talked. She was interested in what had brought Stefan, an Australian, to Saarbruecken.
A few days later, after a film, Stefan dropped in once more. He liked the ambience of the locale and the company of its attractive and friendly owner.
On his second night, while he enjoyed his beer and delicious open sandwich at the corner table, a tall, young woman walked in. She greeted and hugged the owner and sat down at the table. She stretched out her hand, smiled at Stefan and said, ‘Hi, I am Irmgard.’
Surprised by her spontaneous friendliness, Stefan stammered his greeting and name. Liesl, the owner, came quickly to his rescue. She told Irmgard that Stefan was an Australian ‘Professor’ visiting the Saarland. She summarised for Irmgard, in a few sentences, what Stefan had told her in their conversation last week.
Irmgard was a strikingly handsome young woman. She was tall, with a beautifully proportioned figure. A friendly openness complemented her dark-brown hair, styled short, laughing eyes, high cheekbones, very kissable lips and healthy complexion. She was a lively talker who obviously enjoyed a flirting exchange of innuendoes and looks. With Stefan, encouraged by Liesl, she responded in kind from the moment they met.
He learned that Irmgard often came to the café. She worked in a nearby bank, being on the staff that between four and ten at night dealt with the accumulated clearing-tasks of the bank’s day business. Irmgard lived in a small village near Saarbruecken. Often, before driving home the fifteen kilometres, she came to Liesl’s café for a chat, a drink and a bite to eat
Irmgard was, Stefan guessed, like Liesl in her early thirties. She told him she was widowed. Her husband had died from brain cancer five months earlier. She had an eleven-year-old son and shared her house with her mother. In turn, Stefan told her about his study-leave in Germany and how, he an Austrian, became an Australian academic. He also mentioned that he had been married without going into the details of his recent divorce. After an hour or so of enjoying each other’s company, Irmgard and Stefan went their separate ways.
Two evenings later, Stefan returned to the café. He hoped to meet Irmgard again. And when Irmgard waltzed in, she greeted Stefan with a big smile before hugging Liesl. Looking over Liesl’s shoulder, she grinned down at him: ‘Where were you yesterday? We missed you.’
On this second night, Irmgard took the initiative. Stefan had mentioned his interest in Saarbruecken’s surroundings. Irmgard offered to be his guide. Even though he had a car, she would pick him up in hers on Sunday morning for a day’s excursion.
This settled, she told Stefan about where she lived and her life since her husband’s death. Without going into detail, Irmgard mentioned that she avoided the friendship group of her late husband and that no males were working her shift at the bank. Irmgard clearly wanted to let Stefan know that she was unattached. She also did not hold back on her view on marriage: –
‘Not for me! Not again! Unless I get stupid and fall in love. I like men, just not as husbands.’
The cards were on the table, and they left together. Stefan walked with her to a side lane, where she regularly parked her car. Leaning against her little Renault, he took Irmgard into his arms and kissed her. Their kissing, standing there in the dark, promised Stefan more than just a maybe. They parted in high spirits.
As promised, Irmgard collected Stefan at the University’s guest house on Sunday morning. It was a beautiful autumn day, and they enjoyed their outing and newfound companionship. Over a lengthy, authentic French lunch in Saarlouis – originally one of Lois XIV’s border fortresses – Stefan discovered that his guide was an unashamed foodie. It promised much; Stefan had always loved women that enjoyed feasting!
For Stefan, the day finished much too early. Irmgard dropped him off at his apartment at four o’clock. She came up to his apartment for a cup of coffee and some flirtatious, still tentative petting. She liked his apartment, especially the beauty of the beech forest outside the wall-to-wall window.
She was sorry, Irmgard said, that she could not stay. Her eleven-year-old son was during the working week, in the evenings and nights, in the care of her mother. Weekends and weekend evenings she wanted to spend with him. She cooked his favourite food and then most of the time, they either went to a football game or watched one on TV. So, she had to leave.
He accompanied Irmgard out to her car. She offered her lips for a telling-much kiss. Then, unashamedly pressing her lovely breasts on Stefan, she said: – ‘I’m sorry I can’t stay. But, knowing where you live, I could easily drop in after work. You’ll have to feed me, though. I think I’ll be hungry!’
Stefan promised to do his best to meet all her desires. And he grinned ear-to-ear at the prospect.
Monday night, shortly after ten, Irmgard arrived. Not knowing yet the code, she rang the bell. When Stefan opened the entrance door, Irmgard was beaming. She did not hide how much she had been looking forward to this reunion and the adventure it promised.
Stefan had prepared a cold spread of delicatessen. Sharing a bottle of champagne, he and Irmgard settled down for a festive, little meal. Irmgard was delightfully direct, free of any coyness. She told Stefan that he was the first man she had dated since being widowed. She smiled but did not blush when she added: –
‘And you are the first man ever that has welcomed me with a feast and champagne.’
Then Irmgard added that they were lucky to be able to meet at night like this. Her mother and her son were always asleep when she got home after work. Therefore, it did not matter what time she got home. Smiling broadly, Irmgard added: –
‘If you don’t mind losing some sleep, I can stay longer than we do at the café. Even when we kiss a while at the car, in the dark and cold!’
Stefan replied that even hours with her were not long enough for him. Sitting next to each other on the sofa, they soon stopped wasting their precious time with each other. Irmgard’s lips, unrestrained by coyness, opened, and her tongue entwined Stefan’s in a sensual welcome. Neither did Irmgard squirm away or stiffen as his hand cupped a breast and, eventually, moved caressingly up her readily opening thighs.
If anything, there were barely hidden signs of impatience in Irmgard’s response. Stefan, in turn, did not wish to rush into a hurried, first fuck. He wanted their first love-making – as he had always done with women – to be a sensually charged slow discovery.
Unfortunately, for Stefan’s wished-for first love-making, preparations were required. The one-room studio apartment made it necessary to clear the table, put it out of the way, and convert the fold-out sofa into a bed. Like all housekeeping, it would bring, Stefan feared, a break in the romantic mood.
He need not have worried; Irmgard laughed and said: – ‘What a great idea! I’ll leave you to make a bed for us! We must have one for our first sleeping together!’
Irmgard had gotten up from the sofa. Smiling down on Stefan, she added with a mischievous smile: – ‘We are going to sleep, aren’t we? I’ll undress in the bathroom.’
When Irmgard re-emerged, Stefan had cleared the table and made the bed, but was only half-undressed. Irmgard was gloriously naked. She allowed him, however, only a brief glimpse. In contrast to her previous show of boldness, Irmgard was suddenly shy. Giggling, she hurried across the room to slip quickly under cover of the newly-made bed. Her courage restored, she whispered: –
‘Hurry up, Stefan! You can’t keep this spoiled lady waiting any longer.’
And indeed, Irmgard was in an un-lady-like hurry. When Stefan slid in next to her, she welcomed him in a full-body embrace and attention-demanding kisses. Irmgard did not utter a word, but her whole body radiated desire. Again, Stefan sensed that she expected him to rush her into a wild orgy of fucking.
Stefan, however, was too much a romantic. He wished to make this first sexual experience with Irmgard into a long sensual feast. He wanted to get to know every inch of her beautiful body. And then, in a slow build-up, bring their first love session to a tantalisingly delayed crescendo.
Perhaps it was egotism on his part to deny Irmgard a quick orgiastic relief that she, after her prolonged sexual abstinence, wanted. But Stefan’s holding-back did charge their first love-making with a tension that created for Irmgard an exhilarating experience all its own.
Stefan freed himself enough out of Irmgard’s stranglehold to start kissing her throat and neck and shoulders. He whispered in her ear how stunningly beautiful she was naked. She must allow him now to look at her: She had rushed before much too quickly into bed.
Kneeling next to her, he peeled the cover off her body. Irmgard squealed in token protest. Her hands neither grabbed for the lost covering nor thought to press her palms on her tits and pubes, now fully on show. Instead, she stretched out her glorious body. But then, blushing, she raised one arm to hide her smile and cover her eyes.
Irmgard was a beautiful woman. Her largish breasts were firm, shapely globes, her stomach flat, and her hips womanly rounded. Her long legs and shapely thighs leading onto the trimmed, dark triangle over the mound of her pubis highlighted her sexual allure.
Stefan began to caress – with his fingertips barely touching – the perfection before his eyes. He told her how much he admired and desired what she allowed him now to see and feel. When he asked to be allowed to kiss it all, Irmgard’s lips opened with a breathy sigh.
He bent over her and began to kiss her pink nipples into pointy prominence. No hand was stopping Stefan when he kissed a path across Irmgard’s, excitement-tensed stomach. Then he drew his tongue, teasingly slow, a few times up and down her pressed-together thighs. They shivered, cramping together, under Stefan’s roving lips. When he shifted down to her feet to kiss his way ever so slowly up, Irmgard’s legs began to spread open. With his kneeling body now in between, nothing remained hidden.
Stefan looked down on Irmgard’s firmly shaped pussy, with the flash of glistening pink in the dark of her bush. Irmgard now lowered the arm covering her eyes. A knowing smile spread over her face as she let her eyes wander down on Stefan’s fully erect cock. With her voice at a higher, excited pitch, she stammered: –
‘Do you just want to look at me? Don’t you want to make real love to me? I want you, Stefan! Fuck me! Now!’
It was the first time that a woman had said that to Stefan in German. It had been a long wait. Still, he did not immediately comply. Instead, with Irmgard’s thighs so invitingly open, he played his fingers over her pussy’s fleshy lips. They parted readily, and as the fingers caressed up and down Irmgard’s more and more luscious crevice, Irmgard’s whimpering grew louder. And it began to be interspersed – in lust and shame – with half-swallowed cries of – ‘Yes! No! God, no! What are you doing to me?’
As an answer, Stefan began to push one finger, deep-probing, repeatedly into her pussy. Irmgard bucked and ground against it. When a second finger joined, she cried out. Stefan’s lips closed over her mouth, but it was her tongue that now thrust into his mouth. It matched, slide by slide and twirl by twirl, what his fingers were doing to her convulsing cunt below.
This compelling double play – or was it triple by what it did to Irmgard’s mind – pushed her unprepared into a twisting and crying-out orgasm. Now Stefan backed away from her to run his hands over Irmgard’s shivering body until it again lay still, stretched out in all its aroused glory. Irmgard’s eyes remained shut.
Stefan lay down next to her, and their lips found each other. Irmgard’s were soft and yielding. With their bodies just touching, Stefan began to caress Irmgard’s back. Separating for a moment from her lips, he whispered in her ear: ‘You have a gorgeous, sexy ass, Irmgard. You are as beautiful from behind as from the front.’
And Stefan began to explore its voluptuous contours, gripping her buttocks and, eventually, running his fingertips up and down her ass’s opening crack. And Irmgard, whimpering, pressed and ground her pussy against Stefan’s rock-hard cock. Finally, Irmgard just managed to gasp a breathless ‘Fuck me! Oh, Stefan. Why do you make me wait? Fuck me!’ into his mouth.
And Stefan whispered his answer: -‘Yes! Yes! God, I want to fuck you! May I take you from behind? Fuck you hard and deep? Do you like it like that?’
With a cry of – ‘Yes, God, yes!’ – Irmgard scrambled onto her knees. She stretched her voluptuous ass in the air and her arms out in front. With her breast and face pressed into the sheet and her fingers already clawing the sheet, she turned herself into a lascivious offering. Her pussy’s lips were glistening half-open from the finger-play and climax of before. And Stefan let his cock sink slowly and smoothly into the slippery, hot grip of Irmgard’s welcoming cunt.
He began to fuck her with deep, penetrating strokes. Whenever he stopped, leaving his cock deeply engorged, Stefan could feel the hot massage of Irmgard’s inner muscles. All the while, he caressed her trembling body.
He drew his fingernails down her spine and through the cleft, or gripped her buttocks, or, reaching under, allowed his fingers to search through her bush for her clit. With each sequence of hard, deep-penetrating thrusts, the pitch in Irmgard’s love song got higher, her urgings shriller. And when his cock rested deep in her touching her cervix – sucked and milked by her throbbing cunt – Irmgard’s shivering increased.
For a first fuck, Stefan and Irmgard were building up to a perfect orgiastic peak. Under one of Stefan’s deepest thrusts, Irmgard collapsed onto her belly without dislodging him. She greeted the crushing in orgasm with a drawn-out howl as her fingers clawed and tore into the sheet. With Irmgard’s ass wildly bucking in the throes of her coming, Stefan fucked her as hard as he could until he exploded into her.
As if glued together, they lay still for a long time. When Irmgard eventually stirred, Stefan rolled off her. Irmgard turned; sat up. Her hand stroked up her thigh, then gripped her soaked pussy. With her eyes shining, she laughed: – ‘Wow! That was worth a wait! Even for more than a year. Do you always make love like this, Stefan?’
Matching her flippancy, Stefan told her that he made gentle love like that only with beginners: – ‘I had to restrain myself tonight, Irmgard. I did not know yet how much loving and fucking you could bear.’ It made Irmgard giggle. She hugged him. Reaching for his cock she confessed that she was ready for whatever more he had in mind. For tonight, however, she was more than satisfied.
Pleased with themselves and each other, they sat up in bed for a while, laughing, cuddling and chatting. Both Stefan and Irmgard avoided talking about the sex they had enjoyed and about possible tomorrows.
Eventually, Irmgard got dressed. Stefan made coffee, and around one o’clock, Irmgard left for home. They had shied away from making another date.
Irmgard had had her so openly wanted sexual adventure with a compliant stranger. And Stefan, not knowing her yet, was to proud to press Irmgard for a, perhaps, less than wanted reunion.
