Paths Straight and Twisted Pt. 03

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A story of pre-nuptial passion and misdemeanours.
8k words
4.5
2.7k
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Part 3 of the 5 part series

Updated 06/10/2023
Created 02/17/2021
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Each part of this story has quite distinctive erotic characteristics. While the chapters can be read and, hopefully, enjoyed in isolation, they are meant to be part of an evolving and complex whole. I hope you will take the time to read them as intended.

I await, as always with thanks, your comments and evaluation.

With Regards, Benultimo.

***

The first Saturday after Nils had returned to his job in Queensland, I saw Gertrud again. I had made an early night and was in bed reading when there was a knock on my door. It was Josef, in the company of Ingeborg, and Gertrud. They planned to go to the Austrian Club and wanted me to come along. I refused, but they tried at length to get me to come.

Gertrud had sat down on my bed and said little. Finally, Josef gave up trying to talk me into coming with them. He and Ingeborg turned to leave. Gertrud, however, remained seated. Averting her eyes from us three, her voice low, she said: -

"You two go, I'll follow. I stay awhile with Fred."

Ingeborg, with a mischievous grin, skipped up to the bed. Shouldering Gertrud aside she gave me a hug and a kiss: -

"Well, you two. Behave!"

She was still chuckling as they closed the door behind them. Ingeborg was naughty; there had been, I thought, even a bit of tongue in her kiss.

Gertrud had obviously decided that there would be no awkward beginning. She bent forward, offering herself to be embraced. I took her in my arms, and we kissed. Hers was not a gentle question but an unashamed continuance of our lust-filled night, charged with sex and longing. It became a long, telling-all kiss. Then Gertrud slipped a hand under my blanket onto my thigh. Smiling, just slightly blushing, she asked: -

"Should I join you under there? ... Only if I'm wanted?"

With lust stirring, I wanted to shout, Yes! Instead, I decided to pretend a lack of interest. I put my head back on the pillow and said: -

"Well then, shouldn't you get undressed first?"

Gertrud suppressed a smile, feigning reluctance. She hesitated a moment in token protest like a naughty child, then bent down to slip off her shoes. When Gertrud stood up, lightly swaying her hips, she kept herself just, but only just, out of my reach. With her head now held high, she started to strip; to my delight in a surprisingly knowing, sexily teasing way. It was a striptease she seemed to have planned and practised.

Gertrud was dressed to go out. First, she slipped her dress slowly over her head. Then she turned; slowly, twice, three times. It was a deliberately wanton display of showing off the enticing contours of her breasts. She wore a girdle; it stretched over Gertrud's womanly hips, framing and highlighting the triangle on show through her panties' lace. Gertrud's eyes never left mine. She wanted me to look, to admire, to lust for her.

And Gertrud granted me not only what seemed a long time to look but had inched closer. She reached down to unhook the nylons from her girdle. Turning her back on me, she bent forward to slowly roll the stockings down. I could have touched then her ass but desisted. Straightening up, Gertrud wriggled out of her girdle and then, slowly, pulled down her panties. By then, the blanket covering me had formed a tent. As on our first night, Gertrud turned away to unclasp her bra. Now, stripped bare but arms crossed over her, I knew, lovely breasts she was ready to join me in bed.

When I swung back the cover in welcome, Gertrud saw the effect her strip had produced. As she stopped and stared at my bulging-up pyjama pants, she burst into a peal of delighted laughter. Still covering her breasts from view, she nodded at my hard-on: -

"I see. It really worked. I am glad it did."

Then she slid into bed and embraced me tightly. Avoiding her searching mouth, I asked: -

"Did you practise this striptease in front of the mirror?"

I left the implied 'Just for me?' unsaid. Gertrud grinned: instead of answering, she mumbled something about "unfair" and began busying herself to strip me of my pyjamas.

It was an entirely different woman from the one I had initially met, and even from the one of our first night. In our opportunistic first sexual tryst I had, by chance, persuaded Gertrud to set temporarily aside her reservations. Her taking charge tonight was, however, I sensed, for her totally new. It was not the action of an experienced woman of twenty-five with me as her younger, supposedly less experienced partner. Not that I would have minded. I had been loved by and had loved sexually mature women that were much more experienced than I.

With Gertrud, I only sensed it then, it was different. Her's was not the taking charge of a sexually mature woman. It was more a stealthily seeking out the hitherto unknown pleasures of uninhibited sex. It was something that she had not done before. And meeting me allowed it to happen. She found me attractive and, while younger, sexually much more experienced than her. Most importantly, as both of us were engaged, our meeting was no more than a short-term sexual adventure. As such, it was no threat to her life-plans and engagement and could be safely enjoyed.

On this second night with Gertrud, our love-making did become raunchily enjoyable. I could now make love to her without inhibitions. Gertrud had openly admitted what she wanted from me. After an unpromising beginning, our first night together had whetted her appetite for an untrammelled sexual affair. And Gertrud was determined to be, with younger me, unafraid shameless.

Once she had stripped me of my pyjamas, she pressed her naked body hard against me. Our lips found each other for an almost unending kiss. It was kissing that became, especially on Gertrud's part, more and more hungry and demanding. My hands had slid down over her hips and closed over her ass, gripping and moulding her firm buttocks.

Gertrud gave a throaty growl. Pressing her groin against me, she captured my cock between her thighs. She ground against me. I could have pushed and sunk my cock into her searching pussy. Instead, I held back; just allowing my cock to rub, almost kiss her pussy's lips. To stop it from being swallowed, I pressed her thighs together. My ego delighted in controlling our love-making. It was selfish but...

While we lasciviously kissed, her buttocks' muscles urged and quivered in my grasp. Gertrud whimpered in frustration at not getting fucked. Instead, the tip of my cock kissed and teased and only half-parted her Pussy's lips. For me, it was sweet revenge for last time in her bed: Then she had expected to be just mounted and fucked. It would have allowed her to stay coolly detached.

This time, with a degree of arrogance, I aimed to make Gertrud wait until every fibre in her body fevered for relief. I wanted to teach her, how tantalisingly sweet the torture of delay can be, time and time again.

When eventually I broke our sinuous embrace, she cried out in frustration. But then, the first touch of her breast made Gertrud arch against my caressing hand. When I began to bite and suck her nipples into pointy hardness, Gertrud's hand gripped so punishing hard my cock that it was my turn to moan. Replying in kind, I curled my fingers into the fleshy-hot cleft of her pussy. Gertrud drew in her breath but then cried out as one of my fingers pushed into her hot-slippery tightness. Her cry was followed by a staccato of breathless, stammering words urging me to finger her pussy, not to stop. As her crotch ground against the invader, I drank-in Gertrud's excited breath as she stammered: -

"Yes! ... Yes! Oh, God! ... Touch me! ... Feel how hot my pussy is for you!"

And I did. First one, then two and, after a while of sinuously slow penetrations, tree of my fingers curled and played in the hot, wet, pulsating tightness of Gertrud's cunt. Her moans turned into a shrill whimpering, ending with a drawn-out, half-choked cry: - "God! I am coming! ... I'm coming!"

Both of us wanted still more, but we needed some minutes to catch our breath. It was Gertrud that decided to test whether I had lost interest. She snuggled up close, rubbing her breasts over my chest, and pressed her groin against mine so testing my state of readiness. With a little laugh, a slight tremble indicating that she was a bit embarrassed to say so, she faced me and said: -

"God, that was wild ... beautiful, but not all that I came for."

I decided to challenge her into being more direct: -

"So you didn't just come for an appetiser before going dancing?"

It took Gertrud a few seconds to think of a suitably lady-like reply: -

"I don't feel like dancing tonight ... only for making love like last time. I came for a second helping."

She giggled and buried her face in the crook of my neck. I reminded her: -

"For a second helping, you must prepare. Have you forgotten? ... The condoms are in the drawer."

Raising herself, Gertrud reached across to my bedside table, opened the drawer and took out a condom. She clearly relishing what I expected of her. Throwing aside the cover, Gertrud admired for a moment my proud manhood. Then, looking at me with a mischievous grin, she bit the envelope open. She put the condom between her lips, leant over my middle, and set to work.

With her back to me, hunched over my midriff, I could caress her sexy ass. I had up to now somewhat neglected it, and it did not want to be overlooked. Gertrud's adorable buttocks twitched suggestively under my touch, as she moved them closer into my reach. This second time, it took her much longer until she had my cock tamed and dressed to her satisfaction.

When she snuggled back into an embrace, Gertrud announced triumphantly: - "I'm getting good at doing that. ... Satisfied? ... And what now?" - before she burst into a fit of laughter.

I thought to challenge her some more: -

"OK. You have checked me out how hot, hard, and ready my cock was for you. Now I have to check you out. ... Any objections?"

Gertrud lay back on the pillow. When I bent over her to give her a long kiss, she obviously thought that I wanted to check on her pussy with another blind fingering. With a pleasurable sigh, she took my hand to guide it between her opening thighs. But I wanted to see! I hoped to find her willing but also, perhaps, a little shocked. I freed my hand from her grip and said: -

"Oh, no. I don't want to check you blind. You had my cock before your eyes. I want to see if your lovely pussy is ready for my cock. Are you going to show me your pussy?"

Not waiting for her answer, I threw the cover to the floor and raised myself to look at her. God, so stretched out on the sheet she was beautiful. My voice hoarse from wanting, I reminded her again that she could say No. Gertrud just smiled. I lay down, my head next to her knee and gently raised one of her legs over my head. My face was tantalisingly close to what she so willingly showed.

Gertrud had, unlike some other women I have known, a beautifully-shaped labia. And she was ready indeed to offer me her pussy to look at while I touched and tempted it with my caresses. I hooked my arm over her raised thighs, and my fingers began to stroke gently over the luscious, swollen-lips-like folds. When I switched to stroke up and down the cleft, Gertrud began to shiver. With a moan, her thighs spread wider. And I could watch my finger, as it sank with each stroke deeper into her pussy.

When I finally spread its plump lips, it revealed the wet-shiny state of Gertrud's arousal. At the high point of my finger's up-and-down, it unfolded the petals of Gertrud's clitoris. And I loved her reaction to the play of my finger! Every time my finger came close to this apex of lust, Gertrud's whole body began to twist and shiver. When I touched and circled, it made Gertrud buck and jolt, whimper and break out in shrill little cries. But there came from her mouth never a 'NO' or a 'STOP!'.

It became a wildly exciting foreplay. We simply had to stop, or both of us would have been sucked into coming. In our side-on 69, Gertrud's had also paid a too arousing, hands-on attention to my already overexcited cock.

Once we were again side by side, Gertrud proved she had learned. Wanting to fuck - as well as looking and being looked at now - she moved in the side-on position. As she raised one leg high, she reached down for my cock. Looking down, Gertrud guided it quickly onto her already hot-slippery pussy. All her movements and sounds were urging me to hurry, to finally fuck her.

And fuck we did, in an incredibly sensual way, equal to the best I had experienced before. Both of us were, from all the foreplay, supersensitised. I fought hard against climaxing too soon.

I fucked Gertrud in bursts, always just stopping on the brink of going over. Greedily I wanted to milk every move of its highest possible pleasure. It finally drove Gertrud into a convulsive, shaking orgasm that seemed to last forever. Watching and hearing her in this vortex of coming got me undone. I had to surrender too. I must have shouted as we climaxed so wildly together.

It left us both breathless and close to crying with relief. We clung together as if we feared a fall. Eventually, however, we just held each other in a loving cuddle. This was so different from last time. Mine was a single bed. Now, that we were done, there was no way of avoiding each other or the large, wet patch we had somehow produced.

Unlike in our first night, Gertrud gave no sign that she wanted to turn away, much less leave. I got a towel. We cleaned up like long-time lovers; she shifted sideways and spread the cloth over the wet patch. Then Gertrud sat up; leaning against the bed's headboard, she waited for me to join her. Her unashamed staying naked and close to me after having fucked somehow touched me. It was clear that we had discovered purely by chance, a unity of liking each other beyond our sexual infatuation.

I felt we needed to talk. I thought that Gertrud and I needed to remove, like shedding our clothes, some of the covers of silence. Foremost, in my mind, was the puzzle of her engagement to Nils. She had just spent a week with him between our first night together and tonight. The little I knew about them I had learned from Ingeborg. But I would not ask her directly.

So, I told Gertrud I was now smitten by her. She was an intelligent, gorgeous and sexy woman. It was a mystery to me why she had chosen me as her lover. She laughed, gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and told me that she would not have done so. I had been Ingeborg's choice. She, being naughty for once, had only agreed to our first time together out of curiosity: -

"Ingeborg likes you. She thought you'd be right for me."

"Was Ingeborg right? Was I?"

Gertrud hesitated to answer, her face quite serious. Then, looking down on the bed and glancing at our naked bodies, lounging at ease, she decided she could tell the truth: -

"Yes, she was. I don't know how she knew. That night ... you were the first man I ever had an orgasm with. ... I have often thought there was something wrong with me ... that I just did not like sex. What happened that night came as a total surprise ... and also a shock!"

She cuddled up close, offering her lips. My hand stroked up her midriff and touched a perky hard nipple. Confessing had excited Gertrud anew. I asked her, therefore, whether tonight had happened again by chance? Her answer was provocatively direct: -

"No. I wanted another night with you. Go with you to the Club. Ingeborg promised to stay with Josef. You would have come home with me. Wouldn't you?"

She slid down on the bed, her hands urging me to follow. One hand found my cock. To her satisfaction, it was already half-erect. A giggle escaped her before she hot-breathed another confession into my ear: -

"God, I am bad! I want to fuck you again. Is there something wrong with me!"

And we had another loving, long, breath-stopping fuck. Afterwards, Gertrud slept in my arms. My single bed suited Gertrud fine. She did not want to leave me until morning.

Before her Good-Bye in the morning, Gertrud invited me for dinner next Saturday night. Her knowing smile acknowledged the subterfuge when she told me that Ingeborg would be with Josef over the weekend.

Gertrud had not mentioned Nils throughout my probing, not with one word, nor did she ever after. It was Ingeborg, some weeks later that betrayed Gertrud's confidence.

Ingeborg was uncomplimentary blunt in talking about Gertrud's and Nils' engagement. She said that twenty-seven-year-old Nils was a 'nice enough boy' but, unfortunately, also 'seriously' religious. Therefore, when Nils fell in love with Gertrud, he could do no other but almost immediately propose marriage. He was obliged to prove his 'serious' intention. A further motive may have been a fear of loneliness, away from family, church, and friends in a strange country. And Gertrud was attracted enough by the respectable young engineer to agree to an engagement.

The rest of what Ingeborg told me she could only have known because Gertrud had confided in her, in detail and at length.

Nils was a healthy young man, indeed in love with Gertrud. They became, first as an unconsummated shipboard romance, then properly in Melbourne, sexually involved. Nils, however, was a practising Christian; for him, unmarried sex was sinful. So, every time Nils 'made love' to Gertrud, it became a sinner's blind and frantic rush into and out of damnation. Until the next fall from grace, this was followed by guilt and by clumsily voiced apologies to Gertrud. Worst of all, she sensed that she was to blame for leading Nils into sin and temptation!

On this last visit, they were, despite all, 'making love'. Only this time, Gertrud was determined to show Nils - and prove to herself - that she wanted him as a lover and husband. So, she lay there, in the hotel room, on her back. As always, strictly missionary, Gertrude stared up at the ceiling. Nils, mounted on top of her, kept his face buried in the pillow as they fucked. And then, her body suddenly remembered the arousal of a few nights before. Gertrud had to fight back a welling-up orgasm! This shocked her to the core. Allowing herself to come would have been a betrayal. But of whom?

***

On the Saturday night of our dinner, I knew nothing of the above. Gertrud had set a festive table, with candles burning. Both of us were appropriately groomed and dressed, and I had brought wine and flowers. We said Hello, and smiled; looked around, at each other and shared our amusement about the comical formality that both of us had chosen to adopt. I put my arm around her and asked: -

"You are wearing a girdle again, aren't you? I love to watch you sexily unravel!"

She grinned and told me to wait and see. With pretence removed, our real-play could begin and be enjoyed. We agreed that our meeting for 'Dinner' was primarily about sex, but we still enjoyed the meal and wine.

During dinner, looking at Gertrud across the table, I was captured by her beauty and understated, simmering sexiness. Tonight, she displayed for the first time a décolletage by having unintentionally left more than one button on her blouse undone than was proper. And catching my admiring look, she smiled demurely.

The eating done, sitting on the sofa, we settled into a drawn-out spell of already all-knowing kissing. During it, my hand wandered onto Gertrud's thighs. How could I resist stroking higher and higher as they so readily spread? Locked in our kissing, Gertrud purred her pleasure in what was to come into my mouth when my fingers touched the sheerest of panties. Unhindered by what they were neither meant to hide nor protect, my finger slipped into Gertrud's lovely slippery pussy. And her tongue told me, in entwining mine, how much Gertrud liked what we had just begun.