“Well,” she said and remained standing where she was.
I looked at her. She put down a purse and then she stepped slowly out of her robe. Standing in front of me, wearing only a very tight-fitting low-cut swimsuit with very short, short skirt, she lifted her arms high above her head and slowly turned around to grant me a good look at her. Her upper body was slightly bent and I could see her huge but nevertheless well-formed breasts. She asked, “Are you undressed?”
She seemed to take it for granted that one was supposed to be without clothes on in her presence. But this woman had something that was very distinctive, her voice was pleasant and I was not at all offended by her question. Not even when she asked me, “Do you want to get into the tub, or do you want to lie down upon the couch right now?”
I could feel my excitement increase. I just stood there, my arms hanging down the sides and I pulled in my stomach. My bathrobe came off and fell on the throwrugs that covered the tile floor of the bathroom and I just stood there, stark-naked. I heard her surprised exclamation and noticed how a delighted shiver ran through her body. Her voice was noticeably friendlier when she asked me to please make myself comfortable on the couch.
She threw her robe on the couch.
“Like this?”
And I stretched out on the couch. While doing so I wanted to grab her beautiful large breasts but she avoided me and sighed, “Please, don't.”
She reached for the leather purse and took a sponge out of it which she dipped into the tub.
“The water is very warm,” she said, bending over me, sprinkling my pubic hair and moistening my member with the sponge. She turned around and opened her leather purse again. I was looking at her backside and admiring the white, absolutely hairless legs and calves, and the gorgeous globes of her behind. I involuntarily spread out my arms and exclaimed, “Please, hurry up!”
And she did … she started to rub my pubic hairs and my organ with a perfumed soap. At first very quickly to create enough foam and then slowly, incredibly softly and excitingly. I started to groan, I bucked, but her fingers did not stop. To increase the excitement and to postpone a possible climax she would occasionally stop to tickle my belly and my chest, but she always returned to my member. She smiled at me, bit her lower lip and continually mumbled things like, “You have a beautiful body” or “Actually, I don't like a man's body, but yours …”
Sometimes she stopped completely and leaned back voluptuously. Her eyes would become large and shining. At one point it seemed as if she was about to take off her bathing costume, but she only slipped down one shoulderstrap and let one large breast hang free. I begged her to put it against my face but she shook her head and started to bite her lips again. However, she kept on soaping furiously and finally my excitement gave way to a furious release and with a sigh I let my head loll to one side. But she kept my member firmly in both hands and I could feel her tremble. Suddenly she let go of it and slipped back into her tricot suit, her breast was no longer visible. She jumped up and I could see that her face was quite distorted while she was shaking her head wildly.
“Come here, to me!” I called out, sitting up. But she backed up against the mirror that was built into the wall and kept staring at me. Her way of having sex with me had excited rather than satisfied me, so I jumped up and wanted to throw myself upon her. But she held up her hands pleadingly and said in an almost panting voice, “Oh, please, no … no man has ever possessed me … please get into the tub.” But I had already taken her hands in mine, intending to pull her toward me, when I caught the rather painful expression in her eyes. I stepped back without taking my eyes off her. She threw the sponge into the tub, quickly grabbed her robe and covered herself. “What are you doing?” I exclaimed. She wiped a few strands of hair away from her forehead and said, “I thank you, Sir, now I feel fine again,” … she smiled, “I don't think it has ever been as difficult as it was today.”
I hurried washing and cleaning myself, slipped into my bathrobe and sat down next to the girl on the couch. My physical excitement was gone and I only wanted to know about the meaning of this all, especially her almost inhuman resistance. She moved away from me, then she stood up and walked toward the door.
“Do you want to leave me now? Please stay with me … I promise that I won't bother you, Miss …” And while I was talking to her I wondered why I suddenly had become so respectful toward her. But when I noticed that this girl, who had just committed such a licentious act upon me, started to blush, I got up and politely asked her to sit down.
“There is nothing to be worried about … I promise not to try and keep you here if you want to leave,” I said, beginning to get the uncomfortable feeling that I had just attacked a respectable woman whom I had now to ask for forgiveness, “But before you do … I implore you … please explain to me …”
She looked at me for a long time and her eyes were terribly sad, then she shook her head slowly.
“Please, Sir, let me go without an explanation.”
But I kept insisting, I flattered her, and finally she was unable to resist. But she did not want to talk here.
“Please, do get dressed first… I have to put my clothes on too, because somebody may ring for me … and when you are in your room, all you have to do is to call room service.”
Without answering I pulled the bolt on the door, looked out to see that nobody was there, and I let the girl walk out. The next moment she had disappeared behind the opposite door.
About a half-hour later she was standing in front of me, wearing a black tafetta dress, a white apron and little starched cap.
“I should have known that you would not have wanted my … particular service,” she said, “till now it had only been old men who called for me. I strongly believe that one recommends me to another … they never hesitate to say what they expect me to do … it is sometimes very difficult for me to hide my disgust.”
“But, why then …”
“Nobody has ever asked that question. Why does it have to be you, Sir?”
“Maybe only because I am young, and because I feel sorry for you.”
She pressed her fists against her eyes.
“And because I do not understand how a woman like you can resist so much. You are not an iceberg.”
“Fortunately it has never been difficult for me to resist.”
“And today …?”
She gave me a hungry look and then she pressed her arms close to her body.
“I don't want to talk about it any longer. I had to force myself to remember why I started this wretched trade.”
“The goal?”
She suddenly tensed and asked, “And can you tell me any decent way that a woman can make money, much more money than just the little amount she needs to scrape by. You can believe me when I tell you that I have tried. Night after night I worked on embroidery and I made the most beautiful things that sold very well. Fine, but when a year has passed, how much money is left? No, no, there is no work that pays enough. Oh, sure, one may become the mistress of some rich man; I could have been so lucky,” she added bitterly.
Out in the corridor the bell had been ringing several times and she did not seem to notice it. But now the shrill tone seemed to penetrate.
“Somebody is calling me … do you really want to hear the rest of the story?”
She did not wait for my answer and hurried out of the room. Once I was alone I paced up and down my room like a caged animal. I was completely confused. And I could barely expect her to return. When I thought I had waited too long, I pressed the bell button, and a few minutes later she reappeared.