My nymph fled across the green lawn. I chased her, overtook her and punished her petulance with kisses. Then, again, she slipped out of my hands, jumped into the basin and received me with foaming floods of water. But nothing could keep me back; I embraced her swan-like neck firmly and our fight ended in a passionate kissing of tongues.
Tired of our frivolities, we walked hand in hand into the little hut. We dried our wet bodies with soft towels.
She mockingly inspected my shriveled prick, laid herself down upon the sofa, and invited me to the battle.
There I sat, looking at the beautiful thighs spread widely, at the very seat of passion, at the red lips shining through the little bush like a freshly opened rose.
“Oh, poor boy!”
She arose, got soft woollen towels, gave two of them to me and started to rub my body. She asked me to do the same to her. Very soon, a nice warm feeling pulsated through our bodies. We continued and, according to her directions, we finally rubbed thighs and buttocks only, especially the latter.
What a fantastic effect! Fire flowed through our veins! My pillar had swollen and grown enormously erect. I had never seen it that big.
“Come here, lover, I can't hold it any longer.”
And really, the strong rubbing had made her behind glow, and it was in continual motion. Pantingly she ran toward the sofa, threw herself upon her back and lifted her behind high up, resting upon her drawn-up legs. The lips of her beautiful mount were hot and tender. I hesitated too long for her; she pulled me on top of her with great impatience and moved her behind so violently that I was almost incapable of guiding my prick into her cleft. She received it with a loud and voluptuous cooing; she worked and groaned so passionately that her center of bliss flooded after the third jolt.
“A-ah!”
“Please, don't leave me behind!”
I doubled my efforts and she lifted up so high that I penetrated as far as possible and I brought with indescribable pleasure-a double sacrifice to her little god.
She moaned loudly, her eyeballs turned around in her head, and she pressed me close against her bosom.
Now we rested peacefully, our bodies close together.
Despite the heavy losses, my amour still did not want to bow his head; he remained inside the temple of passion and flirted with the god Hymen.
“No more, darling, help me dress myself.”
“Am I being denied love's greatest pleasure?”
“Oh, yes, you are. Conserve your strength till tonight, and then I won't tell you any longer what to do.”
I gave her a firm jolt, meanwhile pressing her closely against me and planting a firm kiss upon her mouth.
“Please, dear boy. Please, don't ruin my performance for tonight. I promise you that I will submit entirely to any desire and fantasy you may have.
Her pleading was so beautiful and urgent that I had to give in, despite the fact that my staff was standing up in perfect position.
“Oh, you libertine, how lascivious you are.”
“Don't you like it?”
“I love it. Darling, where else could I get my pleasures? Will you ever come again?”
“Whenever I am welcome, and able.”
She sighed, looked at me, and her eyes filled with tears; I kissed them away with my lips.
We arose, took a bath, dressed, and returned to her little castle.
Without knowing yet for what I was going to use them, I took some of the woolen towels with which we had warmed our bodies after our bath.
Upon our return we found fortifying cups of chocolate waiting for us, and we drank them during pleasant and flirtatious conversation.
My dear young friend, I hope that you will be led into the secrets of love by a lovable creature like my Frau von Glossen; and I would truly pity you if you were to fall into the hands of some insatiable rutting Messalina who would force you to spend all your powers at once and who would not be satisfied till you dropped down, drained of all power so she could look down upon you disdainfully with a victorious mocking smile.
Yes, my beautiful Glossen was lascivious and passionate, but she was always prepared for the next pleasure and preferred to save something rather than lose it all at once.
14. A YOUNG KNIGHT GAINS HONOR
After the chocolate we went for a little pleasure ride. One should have seen me. I considered myself the greatest when I was trotting next to my beautiful amazon. Even my light sorrel seemed to feel the same way, because he had never held his head so high or thrown his legs so proudly.
Around eight o'clock we had a light dinner and we passed the time with light and frivolous conversation.
Then the clock struck nine.
“You are becoming passionate.”
“Shouldn't I be, dear lady? Would you be less satisfied with me if I were not?”
“Who told you about my weakness?”
“Which makes you so adorable.”
“Flatterer! It's true, I like passion and insistence, but only if I can guide it. I like to have something to do, and the restraining of passionate men increases my pleasure just as much as it is decreased when I am not very successful.”
I embraced her and kissed her passionately.
“Does that pertain to me, my darling?”
“Not yet; (smiling) but it would be nice to find out.”
“But such a beautiful bosom, soft as down, these well-rounded hips, these… these adorable thighs, limbs like no painter's imagination could ever portray on canvas, kisses to steal from the most beautiful lips…”
“Poor boy, you forget to put any sense into your speech! But without questioning the truth of your lovely statements, don't you believe that your beautiful, young, strong and well-built body does not evoke in me feelings that are just as pleasurable? I don't play around with your cheeks and hairs for nothing. It isn't just to idle away my time that I kiss your beautiful lips, or rub and feel your muscular thighs, or…”
“And you are still waiting?”
“Because postponing a certain pleasure is a pleasure in itself.”
“Even when postponing becomes torture?”
“Oh, little boy, I am afraid that you will become lecherous and let yourself be guided by your innate desires. It would hurt me if I would ever have to see you when you lose your virile power and courage. Believe me, the sweet pleasures of love, when taken too frequently, become deadly poison.”
But what good did her teachings do to a passionate young man who felt flowing fire in all of his veins and whose every reaction was twice as sensitive because his nerves were on edge?
From these few lines my dear reader will understand the value of the beautiful Glossen, and if my memoirs against all probability ever fall into the hands of some stern moralist, then I will believe for sure that his damnation of them will be not as strong and maybe, if the beautiful Glossen would be there herself, he would forget about it all together.
My beautiful Glossen finally gave in. She rang the bell. The little old woman was ordered to show me to my bedroom.
I was more than extraordinarily excited. I undressed completely, found a soft flannel nightshirt and put it on over my naked body.
The sleeping quarters of my beautiful Glossen were brightly lit.
She appeared soon.
“I thought I would find you ready and eager to go. I am afraid that my pleasure will be very temporary: you are too passionate.”
Without uttering a word, I loosened the strings of her bodice and her skirts. She sat down upon the sofa. I quickly took off her silk stockings, pulling them over her full calves, tore at her chemise and while I took it off I threw myself upon her and guided my prick without any further ado into the temple of her passion. My beautiful lady did not move at all, only the springs of the sofa reciprocated my quick and violent jolts which I doubled every moment.