soon I heard mother breathe hard, saying: “Now! Now! Push your finger away up! I am com-ing!-Oh!-Oh!-That was good!”
Father said: “Thank God. Let the poor soul rest!” I soon heard them snoring peacefully. I seemed the only one awake, all excited and wishing I could get a little “piece,” not knowing whom I would prefer, Franz, Ferdl, Robert, Mr. Eckhard, the soldier, the ragged boy or Mr. Horak. But I could have none of them, so I gave myself a good rubbing and fell asleep. I had become familiar with several of the boys in the neighborhood. This was probably due to that certain something in my eyes or my looks which seemed to give them the courage to ask me for a “piece.” Of course, they were all wicked boys, the same as my brother, poking their sisters or such of their friends as they could get. Whenever I happened to meet one of these boys on the stairs or in the street he would slap me on my bottom or feel between my legs. If I liked him, I'd touch his shaft; if not, I would turn away. With the girls I had very little to do. In school I was very quiet. If I did talk with one of the girls, she would start in to tell me how much she knew about poking, or else she would look at me in disgust when I mentioned it and shun me afterwards -if she was one of those “nice” girls. With the boys it sometimes happened that, if I felt the lance of one of them and he took the hint we would slip into the cellar, which was always open, quickly snatch a “piece,” standing up, then hurry away. I probably did it with eight different boys during this period. I especially remember two of the boys-one of them later becoming very closely connected in my story with Mr. Eckhard. I will relate further concerning these boys in my next chapter.
CHAPTER EIGHT
One of my boy friends was a lad named Alois, the son of our landlord; a fine boy, blonde hair, always faultlessly dressed in a brown velvet suit with Knickerbocker pants. He was about twelve years old. I really believe that I was in love with him. Every time that I met him I was nervous and excited. He seemed to be a very proud boy and carried his head high, as though he considered himself above the rest of us. I felt ashamed and humble in his presence, but could not resist staring at him. He would give me a short look when we met, then haughtily turn away. He was always accompanied by a nurse; a middle-aged woman, very stout, with one lame shoulder. I accidentally met him alone one day, while I was sneaking around the cellar door, looking for some boy; it did not much matter which one, for I was excited and wanted to be poked. I said: “Have you ever been in a cellar?” He answered: “No, never.” “Well, let's go down together.” To this he agreed, and, on the stairs he whispered: “Are you sure that nobody will see us?” This brought us more intimate than ever and also on friendly terms, and I knew that I had him where I wanted him. Still, not daring to touch him, I replied: “Why, there is no one there.” He said nothing as we went down the dark passage, but, stopping suddenly, he began to stroke me on the cheek. I was so happy at this notice that I held my breath. He now grew more bold and began to knead my breasts, and, since I did not object, he let his hand stray lower and lower until it had reached the throbbing crux of my passion. I was now quivering with delight all over. Pressing me harder and harder as I leaned against the wall, he said: “Shall we do it?” At first I resisted, saying: “What if somebody should come?” But he lifted my dress and I felt his little engine rubbing against my citadel. I was so worked up by this time that I reached the heights of passion as soon as I felt the head of the taut and twitching tool entering my canal. Alois' face still was sober, but he must have achieved satisfaction also, for I felt myself getting all wet. Alois remained quiet, always with that grave look. Putting his hands under my buttock and pressing me tight to him, with one shove I suddenly felt his whole shaft entering me. It was a short, thick one, but… it felt quite huge. For several moments Alois did not move. Then he began a round- about, revolving movement, as if trying to enlarge the entrance while still keeping it sealed. I moaned and once more felt myself attaining pleasure's heights. Alois remarked: “Now for the end!” “With pleasure!” I replied gladly. He slowly withdrew his shaft and pushed it in again, repeating this operation five or six times. I felt him quickly expel the scalding seed of his sexuality. There was not much, but he really enjoyed it. I could feel his meager machine convulsing inside me and I right along with him reached my goals for the third time. When he had finished, Alois wiped himself on my shirt and put his instrument back in his pants. He then remarked, patting me on the cheek: “You do this much better than Clementina.”
Not knowing who Clementina was, I said nothing, but I did not wonder, for I felt sure that such a fine boy could get almost any girl whom he wanted. As he was about to leave me he said: “Come to my house tomorrow afternoon. My parents are going out and I will be alone!” The next afternoon, I rang the door-bell. The cook came to the door and I bashfully inquired if Alois was in. “Yes, the young master is there,” said she, showing me to a beautiful elegantly furnished room, which appealed to me like a Paradise. Alois showed me around the room and then showed me his bed, which was very beautiful. He also showed me a large couch covered with light, blue material, saying as he pointed to the bed: “That is where I sleep.” And to the couch: “And the nurse sleeps here.” He then showed me his picture books, his soldiers, his guns and his swords. I never had known that a child could have so much luxury and that it could be possible to do the thing which we had done in the dark cellar in such a beautiful room. In a few minutes, the nurse, who always accompanied him to and from school, came in, so we were not alone after all, as I had been led to expect. I then gave up all hope of repeating the very delightful performance of the day before. Alois smiled very pleasantly. The nurse sat down on the couch and began to knit, paying no attention whatsoever to us playing at the table. Suddenly Alois got up and, going over to the fat nurse, began playing with her huge globes. I was naturally so astounded at this effrontery that I could not say a word. She pushed him away, murmuring: “But Alois,” glancing at me. “Never mind her,” he said. “Pepi is wise and understands everything.” Then he again put his hands on her fat, protruding breasts. She made no further objection, saying: “But won't she tell?” Instead of replying, I got up and began to play with one of her breasts, pressing and squeezing it gently. It was soft and mushy, and her wrinkled old face began to get very red. Alois had already taken out his engine and put it in the nurse's hand. She started to play with it, but not as I had always done it. Instead, taking it between her thumb and her middle finger, she began toying with the head, tapping it with her forefinger so the foreskin kept drawing further back. “Do you know what this is?” she asked, her wrinkled face wide in a grin. “Oh, yes,” I said.” “And what is it called?” “A tool!” I said in a low tone. “And what do you do with such a tool?” “Engulf it!” I whispered in reply.
She began to breathe faster as she quickened her play on his tool, saying: “And in what is the tool engulfed?” At the same time, she smacked her lips. “The canal!” Alois answered for me. Then he had loosened the nurse's waist and began playing with her flabby, bare breasts. She now turned to him and began questioning him. I assumed that this was a game which they both often played with each other. “What does the hoe do in a row?” “Plow!” he answered, in the same quiet way that made him so charming to me.
“What other name has the act?” Then Alois began to enumerate: “Pruntzing, screwing, shagging, nookieing, bootying, tailing, poontanging, gashing, frigging, diddling, scratching, meating,… etc.” I was delighted at hearing so many names for the delightful amusement. “What else can the hoe do?” she asked him. “Tickle the cleft of the buttocks, go into the mouth, go between the titties or between the legs, under the arm-pits, etc.”
“And what does Alois want to do now?” Without answering, he pushed her back. She closed her eyes and panted heavily. Loosening her blouse, he took out her titties. I noticed how far they hung down, the nipples standing out like little fingers. Alois then took the first one and then the other, sucking at the nipples with all his might.
Each time that the woman jerked the corresponding shoulder after Alois had sucked the nipple on that, she said: “Oh, how wonderful.”
Now he raised her dress, disclosing her fat, short naked legs. He smoothed the skirts out over her stomach, so that they would not bunch up. Then, stepping between her legs, he spread her black, hairy slit, which was of an enormous size, and deftly slipped his short, thick saber in to the hilt. Clementina reached hotly behind him and, clasping one of his cheeks in each hand, drew him to her tightly. He pushed with all his might, she still holding him so that it would not slip out. Clementina closed her eyes and gasped for breath. Holding a breast in each hand, Alois worked like a clock, as grave as he had been when he poked me the day before in the cellar at the school. After working like this for a few minutes, Clementina said: “Now, for the end, with pleasure,” and at the same time releasing his cheeks. I noticed, him slowly withdraw his shaft. She jumped with pleasure. Slowly he put it in again. She acted as though she were having a fit which threatened to tear her in two. Again he slowly withdrew. Clementina seemed to be choking. Slowly he put it in again. She trembled all over. Alois, always grave and sober, repeated this five or six times, always watching her face. As soon as her features relaxed and the spasm of spending was over, she sank back exhausted. Alois, getting red in the face, after several quick pushes, also sank
