I felt very sad, my meal did not taste good at all, I shoved my plate away and started to smoke. I picked up a book and began to read. But it did not work. I could not take my mind off this girl. And I kept repeating over and over as if to console myself, “She has kissed me.”
I must have sat there for over an hour and when Marie returned to clear the table, I took her hand and said, “Please, forgive me, Marie.”
“I do not want you to be sad, young Sir, and please, do not make yourself feel guilty.”
And suddenly she embraced me, held my head firmly against her bosom and she kissed me tenderly. “Please, don't be sad,” she said several times over. With a deep sigh she stroked my hair, picked up the dishes and went. I had the feeling that the most beautiful thing had just happened to me. I was happy and I smiled like one who is at peace with himself and the world. That was the mood I was in when I went to bed, turned out the light and really, I pressed my lips against my pillow, kissed it passionately and said, “Good night, Marie!”
Wait a minute! Didn't somebody slip through the half-opened bedroom door? No, nothing! But suddenly I felt a hand on my face, a nude body in my bed! Marie!!
She snuggled up to me closely and whispered, “I could not take it any longer. I don't want to be alone!”
She felt around, caught my head and kissed, kissed and kissed.
“I promise not to do anything, Marie. I promise. Oh, you sweetheart. Oh, my angel!”
It felt as if her whole body dissolved, she rested peacefully on her back, all her muscles relaxed and then … she opened her thighs! I threw my arms around her, kissed her lovely face, her neck, her breasts, her entire body. She threw her legs apart, I felt her hands under my armpits, she tugged at me and drew me across her body. What happened then? I heard small outcries of pain and got terribly scared.
“Do you want me to go away?” I stammered. “I am a terrible brute, Marie!”
She held-on to me tightly, her panting breath came haltingly, she stretched her thighs even wider than before and I felt both her hands search for my member, grab it and pull as if she wanted to pull my entire body inside her. No longer in control of myself, I pushed forcefully — a suppressed scream — I put my mouth upon hers. My head sank next to hers on the pillow, but I did not let go of her. A wild feeling surged over me, but also over her. It was a sort of terrible hunger. She clamped her legs around me as if she had to keep me tight and tighter and her lips locked onto mine. It seemed as if we never could be separated again, we held on tightly to each other and stayed that way for quite a long time.
Finally I slid exhausted off her hot body, burying my face between her breasts. I heard her soft breathing and could feel the passion ebbing away. We lay there for some time and then I asked, “Can I switch on the light?”
She did not answer, but her hands caressed my body softly. I switched on the light. There she was, her eyes closed, but with an expression of intense happiness. Then we looked at each other, laughing like happy children. She lifted her arms and stretched them toward me. I let myself be embraced by her.
“Oh, what else can I give you, my darling,” she sighed.
No, the happiness of that night, the delight of those weeks … I'll never find them again. Even the life of the most blessed person is sadly lacking bliss like that.
I do believe that Marie is the only girl, with the exception of my beautiful mother, that I have ever deeply and truly loved. Our togetherness was tender and timidly intimate and even the storms of passion that raged between us were very sacred. There was nothing in our words and deeds that was unclean, and there was not a hint of the lasciviousness which used to whip me into a frenzy whenever I was with Rita.
And the day on which Marie admitted to me that she was to become a mother, belongs to the very few real sacred ones in my entire life. We were absolutely not worried. I remember that she lifted her beautiful face up to me, and smiled with shining eyes. I looked deep into her eyes and said, “My girl.”
She anticipated our child with joy. She only did not want her parents to know about it. After it had arrived she would show it to her mother and then I had to be there too. Oh, it was all arranged and so beautiful. Throughout that whole period I did not dare to embrace her firmly because I was afraid she would break. But she just laughed at me and came to me night after night.
One day she said to me that she had to leave the house because it had become increasingly difficult to hide her situation. She wanted to rent a room in one of the suburbs and there she would deliver our child. “And after that you can be with me forever,” she said. That was our tragedy. It could not be. I started to think. It was impossible for me to imagine the days and nights that I could not be with her. With a thousand kisses I talked her into staying. She finally gave in.
This was where Mama had to help us.
I had long since decided to tell her everything. Fortunately for us, her trip around the world proceeded very slowly, and at that particular time she was still on the Continent. Surely, she must have had ecstatic times now and then and could understand the trembling with which her son now asked for her assistance. I wrote her everything. That, at first, I had had the bad luck to fall into the hands of a female to whom I was nothing more than an instrument to satisfy her insatiable demands, and that finally, after a few other trials and efforts, the desire which brings man and woman together had overcome me. I can still remember word for word the letter I wrote to Mama. And, even though some of the things I said now seem to be rather childish, one thing was for sure: I had painted a very accurate picture of my relations with Marie.
What I have written down on the previous pages is nothing but a faint copy of what I have written to Mama. And what still amazes me to this day is that I could write all this to that marvelous woman. I did not have to wait long for an answer. The next day I had a telegram from Mama: “Dear Boy, Your Confidence Made Me Happy, Letter With My Proposed Arrangements On Its Way, Greet Marie, Kisses From, Mama.”
Marie had some trouble regaining her self-control after she had read Mama's telegram. She kissed it, she kissed my hands and she implored me to tell her what she could also do to make me happy. My God, she was so sweet when she offered me her body. I did not notice any changes, and I put my ear to her belly, listening for any possible sounds that might come from the movements of our baby. We smiled happily at each other.
According to Mama's preparations, Marie moved in with an old woman who had been Mama's wet nurse and who had lived for years on a small farm outside the city. When we went to see her, the old lady knew about everything from Mama and she was very nice to Marie and me. She talked about Mama as if it were her own daughter.
“You can stay here for the night, you bad boy! The two of you have gone — well — as far as you have gone, and I don't think that you both will say the rosary when you sleep here tonight,” and saying this she patted me shamelessly on the crotch, adding, “Such a knave. But it felt good, didn't it?” She squeezed Marie's blushing cheeks and left the two of us together. But I no longer dared to touch Marie. It seemed to me as if she had become a higher being.
Week after week passed. I often kneeled in front of her and kissed her hands and then I left her with a feeling of sacred elation and shyness.
And then a day arrived … it would be sacrilege to attempt to describe it.
As usual, after school hours, I walked out to the little dwelling of the old woman. She opened the door with a very worried look on her face and did not want to let me in to see Marie. At that moment I heard her cry out for me. Marie had had an accident and the six-month-old fruit of her womb had been destroyed. A few days later she died in agony after she had touchingly said her farewell to me.