"She's looking at you." Emil nudged me in the ribs.
"No, she isn't. Leave me be." I picked up my stein and held it to my lips. It was empty. I set it down.
"There! She's looking again. Smile at her!"
"Stop it!" I pushed his arm away without looking up.
"I will do what you aren't willing to then," he declared, and stood up, weaving slightly. We had both had much too much beer, and it became obvious when doing such ambitious actions as standing and walking across the biergarten floor. Emil staggered and approached the bar where the waitress stood, shyly smiling back at him.
To my shock and annoyance, he dragged her by the arm back to the table and motioned for her to sit.
"Her name is Christel," he announced loudly. "This is my friend Schumann, He's a pianist."
I took the girl's extended hand, and felt the smooth palm as it gently touched my own. "And I write music. Though I have only one opus published as yet."
"That is very interesting," she said, her voice soft and high. "I love piano."
"See, Robert? I told you she was a music enthusiast! I'll leave you too alone." And before I could object, Emil had disappeared through the doorway and left me blushing at the table with the waitress, Christel, who sat upon my invitation.
"Actually I have to get back," she said apologetically. Can I get anything more for you to drink Herr Schubert?"
"Oh my god, no! I am Schumann! Schubert was a great composer! I will never achieve what he did." She stood, then, and leaned toward me.
"I don't believe that for a minute," she said, and before I could utter another word, she placed a light kiss on my mouth and turned, her voice dropping. "Perhaps you would be interested to see me when I finish here? I get through at 11." And I nodded, once again confused at the quick pace of her offer. There could be no mistaking it - could there?
It was afternoon when I left the biergarten, slightly dizzy and drunk, and went back to my rooms to sleep it off. I woke suddenly. It was full dark then, and scrambled for my watch to find out if I was late. I mustn't be late! And my watch told me there was plenty of time still, and it did not need to be wound. I wound it tight once again, compulsively.
I tramped off to the bath with a change of clothes and washed up, rinsing my mouth to obscure the taste of stale beer and schnitzel. I walked to the biergarten to pick up Christel, and forced myself to keep a sedate pace along the way, so that I would not arrive too early and appear overeager.
As I approached a slender arm slipped through mine and I turned. "I asked them if I could go early. I knew you'd be here," and she reached up and pulled at my collar, pulling my head down to meet her lips.
"My dear," I gasped, drawing away.
"What's wrong? I thought you wanted me." She drew back, frowning.
"I do. I do - I am just --" I wrung my hands, suddenly confused.
"Oh! This is your first time!" she exclaimed, suddenly delighted. I blushed again, grateful for the darkness around us. "How old are you?"
"Eighteen," I replied, embarrassed.
"Is it far to your rooms?"
"No, half a mile..."
"Perfect. Shall we go?" she seized my arm once again. "I hope you have a piano there. You'll play for me, won't you? After?"
"After you've had your first woman!" she said cheerfully, and twining my fingers between hers, she dragged me forward down the street.
I had no time to think. After we had trudged up the stairs I was a bit breathless, which always worried me, because I feared that I was coming down with consumption whenever I became short of breath. But the fact was that Christel was far more energetic, and had led me on a very fast walk, as soon as she knew we were headed down the Mainzstraße. I barely got the door closed when I turned and saw that she had already unbuttoned her blouse. "Come here," she called, loosening her camisole. "Help me."
I felt an utter fool. I had no knowledge of women's things! But she wriggled out of the slip and brassiere almost as soon as I had touched them, and she turned, grasping my hands and placing them on her now naked breasts. My breath caught in my throat. "Kiss me, silly," she commanded, and I hastened to obey. As we were kissing, she had somehow managed to unbutton her skirt as well, she guided my hands down her back to her now naked bottom. I was beside myself with desire, and the arousal was clouding my mind. Fortunately Christel seemed quite in command, and led me to the bed, where her gentle hands pressed down on me, and worked my buttons free. Once she had freed me from my clothes, I closed my eyes, concentrating on the sensation of her quick fingers exploring my body.
"Oh, I see you are all ready!" she exclaimed as she pulled down my now unbuttoned trousers, and she joined me on the bed.
I was at a complete loss for what to do, so I leaned over her and kissed her once again, and as I did, she writhed against me, took my hand, and pressed it between her thighs, and I felt a hot wetness which excited me even further. I moved my fingers back and forth, and she moaned, writhing more fervently. "Please, take me now," she said, and placing her hand on my rigid erection, guided it between her legs. And I obeyed. The sensation of entering her was almost an unbearable tightness, and I pulled away, briefly, to collect myself. She sat up abruptly. "What is it, what's wrong?"
"I was afraid I would explode immediately." I explained, embarrassed, my face burning hot.
"No worries, We could always try again if you do. Come on now. You'll get used to it." She was urging me, and I could not resist, and knelt, this time slowly pressing forward as my erection gained entry into her hot interior. Oh god, what a feeling. My breath quickened in me, and the girl moaned as I gradually thrust all the way in. I did not explode, then, but managed to establish a regular rhythm as I got used to the sensation of her tight loins around my flesh. But soon I felt the pressure inside building up, even as her hands against my back urged me onward, until a climax tore from me like the burst of a sudden storm overhead, and the girl cried out, briefly.
I collapsed suddenly, panting, in her arms. She patted me, soothing, cooing some nonsense into my ear that I did not understand, and I realized she was speaking another language I did not know. I pulled myself up and balanced on my elbows, and withdrew carefully, then lay back on my side. "What tongue is that?" I asked.
"Oh, it's my own little language," she said. "I made it up." She smiled sweetly "Will you play piano for me now, or shall we go again?"