Rose and Gephard Pt. 01

This story is based on a close friend's recollection of her relationship with an older gentleman when she was young. It begins when she is a young soldier stationed in Germany in the 1970's and befriends an older German gentleman. This part one of a series that takes the reader through her sexual and fetish awakening...

My name is Rose. I am from Philly- Kensington to be more precise. A poor neighborhood, rife with gangs, poverty, and a large homeless population- at least when I lived there in the 60's and 70's. My family was part of the small Polish population that settled there and never seemed to find a way out. Childhood was not a happy time for me. I learned how to ride the El for free and make my way from K&A way to the shipyards. I could spend all day there watching the ships come and go, daydreaming of exotic places travel could take me to. Mostly I would be dreaming of leaving Philly. One could find scraps of food at the shipyards too, although I can't imagine doing that now. But the shipyard was the happy place of my childhood.

People nicknamed me 'Olive Oyl' because I was such a skinny girl and tall at 5'8". That little girl learned at an early age, that no matter the circumstance, you must create your own happy place- you must make it happen. I have been back to Philly several times, but not to the shipyards. It is no longer my place...maybe it belongs to some other little girl now. Instead, I moved on the only way I could. I enlisted in the Army. My mother told me, "Only whores do that". She thought I should just find a man to support me. I didn't take her advice.

My story begins when I was a young soldier stationed on my first tour in Germany in the summer of 1977. The Army was good fit for me in some ways. This inner-city girl could take care of herself, and I tended to make sure others knew that. Under a tough exterior I was quite shy and did not make friends easily. Some things even the Army didn't change.

Physically, like most of my family, I matured with a much more athletic body. But unlike the other women in my family, I had sprouted much larger boobs (36D) and relatively long legs. I have light gray eyes that matched well with my then dark ash blond hair. Back then I wore it in a short shaggy haircut. My best feature though was my long, well-toned legs.

One of my favorite activities off base were the German schwimmbads. I dove into whatever culture I found myself in during my Army days and in Germany, this was one of those wonderful experiences for me. If you have never been to one, it is one of the most exhilarating experiences you can have. I adore a quiet day reading, soaking in the hot tubs, relaxing in the saunas, swimming in the pools all nude. It was a great escape. This schwimmbad had an outdoor area as well. I love being naked, especially outdoors.

I met Gebhard there. He was an older gentleman who he spoke English quite well. I am not quite sure of his age, but I assume in his 60s as he was mostly retired. So, the age difference between us might have been 40 years. We met in the sauna and were the only two in there the day we first met.

Gephard looked like many of the older gentleman who frequented the: gray hair covering much of his body, a big belly, a clean-shaven face and balding in top. The sweat rolling down over matted hair didn't help. Contrast that with my then young athletic body, and shaved legs, pits, and pubes. It was the type of contrast that was common in the schwimmbad. Really quite a variety of people who enjoyed relaxing nude. Gephard struck up a conversation with me. Most people were quiet in there, but I guess with just the two of us it seemed okay. I think he was fascinated by this young American Female, and I didn't mind the attention.

"You are an American?" Gebhard inquired.

Caught off guard it took me a moment to answer.

"Ah, yes, I just got stationed here", I responded.

"Oh, you are a soldier then." he concluded.

"Yes", I confirmed.

"You like the bath house, Gephard guessed. "Not too many Americans feel comfortable here".

"No worries for me. The first time I came was on women's day, but mostly now I come on open days." I explained.

"Well good for you. My name is Gebhard, by the way".

"Hello Gebhard, I am Rose."

"Good to meet you Rose" Gephard added.

Just then a women entered the sauna and our conversation ended. Except for the obligatory, 'Guten Tag' she quietly placed her towel on the bench and sat down. It was silent for several minutes, until I decided I had had quite enough of the sauna for the moment. I got up, grabbed my towel, nodded to Gebhard, and walked out. I rinsed off at a nearby showerhead and returned to my lounge chair to read.

Ten minutes later, I watched Gephard leave the sauna, and dunk himself in the nearby cold-water bath. I had never tried that myself but made a mental note to put it on my bucket list. I kept watching as he climbed out of the bath. As he stood, I noticed that like the rest of his body, he was very hairy down there. So much so that coupled with his gut hanging down one could barely make out a penis there. He was also uncircumcised which seemed common here but not something I had seen with the men I dated. During my time in the sauna, I purposely looked him in the eyes so I would not look down there.

He looked in my direction and smiled as he walked over and took a lounge chair beside me. People here are so comfortable being nude that I wondered if they noticed the things I did when I was there. In any case I put it out of my mind when continued our conversation. Gephard and I had a mostly vanilla conversation, and he was easy talk to. It was kind of nice to have someone to chat with for a change and he was a very nice man. I never got hit on when I was there, but with the age difference between us I felt comfortable that he had just a platonic interest in me. At this point in my life, I had been with more women than men and most of my male relationships did not end well.

After that first encounter, we would see each other there from time to time. It could be several weeks or months in between, but we always caught up with each other's lives. He genuinely seemed interested. The conversations were always innocent; however, I do recall one conversation about pubic hair that crossed the line to a bit more personal.

"Do all American women shave so much of their hair?" Gephard asked. "Not so many American girls come to this side of the facility, but when they do, I see that many of them do shave." He continued.

I thought, Surely, he knows the answer to that question, but I went along anyway.

"I guess many do Gephard, especially our legs and armpits." I offered.

"And sometimes other areas" he continued.

"I guess so", I muttered.

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Rose, personally I like hair on a woman, but you are still a very attractive young lady." He teased.

It was the only time he made me feel a little self-conscious: Realizing that he was looking that closely at my private areas. But at the time I must have stood out as most adults, had some pubic hair: Some trimmed nicely and some just let it grow natural. It depended on age I guess, as some of the younger women seemed to keep more body hair than older women in Europe.

I am not sure if it was curiosity or the fun of toying with him, but after that conversation I began to lay off on the shaving of my pubic area and armpit hair. I was not ready at that time to let my legs go because it showed off the shapeliness of my legs. It also would have been more obvious during PT. Still, it was quite liberating. My natural hair is very light, very fine and thin, so I took some time to even be noticeable. Besides, kind of liked it. As it grew in, it made me fit in with the bath house crowd if not in the barracks shower. I had heard fellow soldiers use the term dyke more than once when referring to me but, I considered myself bisexual. So, my new look gave them something to more talk about.

The first time I went back to the schwimmbad after giving up the razor, the newly growing hairs was still in the uncomfortable stage. I didn't even think it was that noticeable, but apparently it was.

"Rose, have you decided that hair is okay for a lady?" Gebhard speculated.

A little embarrassed, I whispered, "maybe".

He turned his gaze downward, "But not your legs."

I smiled. "No Gebhard, I am not ready for that, but I thought I would let some areas grow natural for a while and see how it feels".

"Did you do this for me Rose?" He inquired.

"Oh no, I just thought, I would give it a try", I lied.

He just smiled. I thought I noticed a smug look on his as he went back to reading. I put the thought out of my mind, reached over for my book, and returned to my own reading. We both sat for some time without saying a word until he finally broke the silence.

"By the way the way Rose, I would like to invite you over for dinner...this evening. I love to cook and would enjoy having someone to cook for."

"You mean tonight?" I responded, quite surprised.

"Yes tonight, we can leave right from here. I live right down the street".

"I...I don't know...Gehard." I stuttered, "I mean... I really didn't prepare to go anywhere after this", I said.

"What do you need? When we are ready, we can shower here, get changed and walk to my home." He concluded.

I really could have come up with any number of excuses I suppose- but I didn't. Instead, I accepted the invitation. We had gotten to know each other. Besides I thought of him as a kindly older gentleman and thought nothing more of it. I had never been inside a German home, and I was curious how he lived.

Later, when we decided to leave, we went to our lockers to get our toiletries and then to the showers. The showers were basically open to the room and men and women showered together. Being naked the whole day in the rest of the facility, it was normally not big deal to shower together. Still, it felt a little uncomfortable when he came over and used the shower across from mine. None the less I went about my business washing my hair and body without watching what he was doing. When I was finished, I toweled off and remained naked while I dried my hair. Sometime during that period Gebhard must have finished and already gotten dressed. I suddenly realized I had never seen him with clothes on- and he of course had never seen me. But as I glanced over, I was impressed that he was dressed very nicely and looked the part of a refined elderly gentleman. He patiently waited until I was ready.

We left the schwimmbad together swim bags in hand and walked a few blocks to his home. When we entered his home, he removed his shoes and socks and asked me to remove my shoes as well. He offered me a glass of wine and took me on a quick tour of the house and a look at the garden out back (It was a small yard, but he called it a garden).

It was a comfortable house sparsely furnished, lots of plants and not much on the walls. There were no closets that I could see, and it seemed he lived a simple life. The most luxurious room was the bathroom: Beautifully tiled (with heated floors I would later learn), a bidet, a wonderful shower (Though no tub) and exquisite and plentiful wood-stained cabinets. The kitchen was tiny as were the appliances; but it was also very nice. After the tour, we sat down to eat.

I enjoy food and I remember the meal and wine was very good. He mentioned that he liked a girl with an appetite. I wasn't sure if that was a compliment, but I took it that way. We had eaten together at the schwimmbad several times, me with a loose-fitting coverall and him with a towel wrapped around his waist below his belly. People probably assumed I was his daughter or an even younger relative. That was not uncommon there. But today we were all dressed up sitting at a nicely set table as if we did it all the time.

Our conversations normally where more heavily weighted to my life but I always enjoyed it the few times he talked about himself. So, I was pleasantly surprised when he talked about his life during dinner. However, the conversation slowly changed to more personal topics. Like all men everywhere I guess, he seemed to enjoy the fact that I was bi and asked a lot of questions about it. He seemed to sense my discomfort in talking about such things with him. He said he always had a curiosity of what young women think sexually, then mercifully changed the topic back to some of his interests.

We had more wine after dinner, and I began to get the feeling that he might want something more than friendship. In all the times, nude at the pool, I never felt that at all. Now we had clothes on, and I remember thinking, "does he think we are going to have sex or is it the wine that is making me misinterpret his intentions?" I had no romantic feelings toward him, and I really did not feel sexually attracted to him at all. Despite that, I remember thinking that if he does want fuck me, I might let him. I had let men fuck me before, men who were not nearly as nice as Gebhard. I hoped he would not go there, but he was difficult to read. It quickly got a lot easier to discern.

"Would you like desert, Rose?" He offered.

"No thank-you." I mumbled. "I think I have had quite enough food for today".

He grabbed his wine glass, stood up and reached for my hand with his fee hand.

"Well, then Rose, let's take a break from eating, I have something to show you".

I stood up and instinctively grabbed my glass. He took my other hand and led me to his bedroom, which was the only room in the house I had not seen. When we arrived in the room, he took the glass of wine from my hand and set the glass on a nearby table. I looked around spotted picture on the table by the bed, released his handhold and looked at the picture of a younger Gebhard with a woman.

"Was this your wife?" I asked, honestly interested, but hoping to change the direction I worried we might go.

"Yes, we were married for 32 years when she passed."

"I'm sorry Gebhard, that must have been very difficult...She was very pretty", I offered, without looking up.

He approached me again, put his own glass on the table and took my hand.

"That's okay Rose, we had a very good life together."

I nodded slightly as we stood facing each other in silence. I could tell he was a very lonely man. But he was very sweet. 'Were there other women who had been in here since his wife', I wondered. They never had children- I was not sure why. I could be his daughter, almost his grand daughter I thought. All these thoughts racing through my mind.

Breaking the silence, he politely asked, "may I kiss you Rose?"

"Gephard, I..."

I really tried, but I couldn't find words at that moment. 'Should I turn my cheek', I thought?' No that would be childish. Did he really want to kiss me in a sensual way".

I relented.

He was a tall man, maybe 6' 2" or so with a large belly. At 5'8" I was not very short, but it still felt awkward as he reached in. He kissed me very firmly, fortunately with no tongue or anything like that. I was not sure if people his age did that sort of thing. It was not unpleasant. I had very short hair back then and I remember his hands running through my hair as he guided my head to his lips. I closed my eyes and let him kiss me as he sat me on the bed. He took a seated position beside me.

I softly said to him "Gephard, what are you doing?"

"Rose, I want to show you some things".

"But we are friends", I countered.

"You are my Busenfreundin", he implored. "My close friend."

I really liked Gephard, and I did not want to lose his friendship. I never thought of him this way, but I put myself here in this position. 'Why did I do that' I wondered. 'It's not his fault', I reasoned...I let him continue.

He reached over with one arm and let his fingers slide though my hair until he had a firm grasp of the back of my head. His other hand reached over to my cheek and brought me close to him. His hands were rough and strong. My arms remained by my side supporting my upper body on the bed. I made no attempt to stop him. He was kissing me...and I was kissing back. Was that a reflex? It was a little gross and a little exciting at the same time.

From the proximity of his face, I could see wrinkles that betrayed his age. His face said eager, but he took his time and began exploring my face with his mouth. His fingers were massaging my scalp through my hair. As he moved down my neck, I impulsively tilted my head back. I closed my eyes. He found a spot: On my neck below my ears, and he enjoyed my reaction. He realized any inhibitions were down. He stopped and we sat for a moment looking at each other.

"What do you want me to do Rose?", he asked.

I didn't answer right away. I didn't even know the answer. Part of me said to just get up and leave. I didn't think he would hurt me. He is a nice man. 'He will just let me go', I reasoned. But I did not want our friendship end right here. Should I explain what I want for the limits of our friendship? I was confused. I wasn't thinking clearly. 'Was it the wine?', I wondered.

Suddenly I realized he had continued kissing my neck. I had rolled my head to the side and invited more. His lips returned to my lips, and he kissed me passionately. I closed my eyes. I love it when a partner searches for my spots and instinctively I respond when they find them.

'Perhaps, I should just get it over with', I thought.

"What do you want me to do Rose?", he persisted.

"Kiss me", I said softly, not ready to stop...maybe we will just make out, maybe that's all he wants...

"Then tell me Rose", he said.

Not sure what he wanted to hear, I tried again.

"I want you to kiss me Gebhard", I said more directly.

He reached in and met my lips.

I kissed him back. It felt good, so wrong, but good in the moment. I released my arms. Not sure where to go with them I settled on his sides, just below is arms. It felt awkward- he was a big man, and I could barely reach to his back. I felt his tongue and lips alternating spots on the right and left side of my neck- running up and down from my ear to the base of my neck.

'No, we are not stopping at kissing' I realized. I was enjoying this so far. I thought, 'Do I really want him to fuck me?'

He reached down slowly buttoned my top exploring each newly revealed patch of skin with his mouth and hands. I sat there with my blouse open. He was enjoying the slow unwrapping of his gift, reaching around behind my blouse, and gently caressing my back. I imagine he'd done this many times with many ladies, though he made it feel like I was special.

I lifted my arms and let him pull my top up and away. He grabbed hold of each arm and held them up high, sliding his hands down to my armpits. His fingers exploring the short, fine hairs I had let grow in. He kissed my upper arms before continuing to my armpits.

'How strange' I thought.

He had seen me naked many times, and I wondered if he had thought about doing this during those previous encounters. I never felt naked back then, but I did now- and very vulnerable. He found a new spot in the soft recesses on the top of my shoulder. I loved that! I closed my eyes and enjoyed the soft kisses know on my shoulders and of his hands now exploring my exposed skin. His hands were now gentle and forceful at the same time. Fingers gently caressing my back, shoulders, and stomach.

He began probing underneath the straps of my bra and I knew what was next. He slid the straps slid over my shoulders. A plain white functional bra, not very sexy. I didn't think it needed to be. It took him a minute to unhook the bra, but he finally removed it and tossed it aside. He went back to work immediately. He cupped my boobs and began to fondle them squeezing each nipple between his fingers. It would have been awkward now to close my eyes and look away, so I just stared back in his eyes. He had wrinkles around his eyes and dark spots beneath them that revealed his age. But there was more in his eyes. More than lust, it was something else. He was happy with me.