An Intimate Encounter With My German Host Mother In 1980

AN INTIMATE ENCOUNTER ON THE LOWER RHINE 1980

At the age of 45, Gudrun Mayer was a mature, devoted housewife and mother whose hands bore the marks of the paring knife she had used for years to prepare potatoes for family meals. In the summer of 1980 she welcomed me as an international guest student in her apartment when I spent a year in a province on the Lower Rhine to learn German culture and language. I was 17 at that time and the experiences I gathered in the cosiness of her house influenced me all my life.

I remember very well how she and her husband Heinrich, who was a pilot for an important airline by profession, asked me one day at the dinner table what I wanted to do that year. I answered that I wanted to see Germany and that I was interested in history and culture. I also said that I wanted to learn German fluently. Gudrun then became my private teacher and she often corrected me when I made a mistake.

In the first months of my stay we made trips to historical monuments, museums, classical concerts, etc., and often I was alone with Gudrun in the car, which means we talked a lot to each other. At that age I did not yet understand the basic tenets of affinity, namely, the more you communicate with someone, the greater your affinity with that person, and this is an axiom of life that always has validity and effect, whether you grasp it at that moment or not.

It must have been one day in late autumn, when I was on the way with Gudrun on the Lower Rhine to visit an old church. Outside it was already quite fresh and Gudrun was wearing an ochre coloured dress, matching tights, and brown shoes. It was as if she wanted to adapt to the colors of the season, nevertheless she looked very pretty.

When we came home, nobody was there, and when we were about to take off our coats to settle back into the apartment, our eyes met in the dining area between the table and the sideboard. We looked at each other and were silent as I, without any contemplation or restraint, approached her lips and began to kiss her. She responded to my innocent, perhaps naive advance and as we kissed, my hands began to explore the mature curves of her body, still dressed in the ochre coloured dress.

I caressed her bottom, her waist, and her b****** gently, yet there was danger that one of her daughters might walk in on us. This moment seemed like an eternity, and in the end I asked her if I could caress her bare b******, and she agreed, but said that I should help her unzip her since the zipper was in the back of the dress, and she alone could not reach it easily.

When this was done, she pulled the top of her dress down to her hips and pulled down her bra so that I could admire her b****** and stroke them gently. When I finished, I thanked her and she put her clothes back on. This was the first intimate encounter with a woman in my life, and our relationship would intensify as the winter solstice approached.

Often she stayed up until late at night, knitting on a couch near the dining area, and I accompanied her. When her daughters had all fallen asleep, we would cuddle intimately on the couch. This went on for a few weeks, but one night in January, when we were sitting on this couch alone again, we decided to move to the other couch set in the living room to continue making out, because there was more space there, and that location was a bit away from the rest of the apartment. It became so intimately hot that we were both stroking each other. I had my hand in her panties while she stroked me as well. I asked her if she would come with me to my bedroom to which she said no at first, but we continued, and finally she realized that maybe it would be better if she came with me to my bedroom. She then said "ok, let's go".

From the perspective of an aging man, I now understand the conflict that must have been going on in the mind of a 45-year old lady as she was confronted with the reality of having s** with a 17-year-old adolescent. Nevertheless, this was a decision that neither of us ever regretted, because the pleasure, the fun, and the joy we both shared were unforgettably beautiful, and I felt like in paradise, in a kind of land of plenty. She added that I should go into my bedroom alone, and she would join me in a few minutes.

I went to my bedroom, took off all my clothes and got into bed under the covers, while she went upstairs to her own bedroom, also completely undressed, and put on her brown bathrobe. After a few minutes, she sneaked into the darkness of my bedroom and took off her bathrobe to get into bed where I was waiting for her. I put the blanket under which I was lying aside, and she climbed on top of me taking full command of what would happen next as I lay there full of expectation.

She took me in her right hand and tried to introduce me into herself, but, since our hot session on the big couch in the living room, a few minutes had already passed and she had become dry again, so I could not slide into her so easily. This hurt me and I whispered in her ear "it hurts, it won't go in properly". Gudrun was clearly old school and did not yet understand such subtleties, and whispered back into my ear "have a little patience". After a few seconds I could glide in and out of her and for the first time in my life I felt the comforting warmth of a woman. As a teenager I felt very honoured, because here I was not in any girl of the same age. I was in the most intimate realm of a mature and experienced woman who was willing to share her sensuality with her guest student and it was the best gift anyone could have granted me in life.

I came inside her quietly, and afterwards I told her that this was my first time. She was silent as if she wanted to record this moment for eternity.

We rested for a few minutes and when I recovered I turned to her, took her by the thighs and sat her on me again for a second session. When we finished, she lay in bed with me until 5 in the morning. We would have been together all morning, but the new day was dawning and she had to prepare breakfast for her daughters.

We continued our affair for the second half of my stay whenever and however we could, but another highlight was in February, when carnival was celebrated all over the Lower Rhine provinces. Gudrun invited me to a carnival meeting of her women's group, and at such events people meet in a hall, there is live music, people chat with friends, drink beer and wine, and the typical jesters tell jokes on a stage. I think we both wore improvised costumes, and when the event was over, we got in the car and wanted to go home. We were both a bit drunk and very excited. When she was about to drive into the street where the apartment was, I told her to drive straight up a hill. Without hesitation she followed my instructions and halfway up the hill I saw a dirt road. I told her to drive onto the field there. It was clear that we both wanted to have s** in the car, and when she brought the car to a halt, she took off her panties while I pulled my pants down, and she climbed on top of me. We made love there in the car in such a passionate way that it is impossible for me to forget that moment today. I still dream at night of that beautiful moment. Gudrun was an established woman who was willing to experiment with me spontaneously. By then we were very familiar with each other and she was willing to try everything with me.

When my year in Germany came to an end, we were both very sad, but nobody knew exactly why. Two years later I came back to Germany as a student to study media sciences at the University of Bremen for 2 semesters, and one weekend she came to visit me. We drove spontaneously in her car through the countryside towards the north, and in a beautiful spa town, in Bad Bederkesa, we found a cosy hotel where we spent the weekend together. When we arrived at the room, I wanted to have s** with her again. She wore a beautiful green dress with white shoes and started to undo the buttons of her dress in the front and asked me "should we really do this?" to which I said "yes". She lay down on the bed and spread her legs so I could easily access her. When I was inside her she whispered in my ear "yes, I wanted that too" and so we continued our love affair for another year while the hotel in Bad Bederkesa on the lake became our regular place for our intimate encounters whenever she visited me every few weeks.

When I now think back as an older man to the wonderful first encounter with Gudrun in 1980, I recognize now how the sexual urge of a 17-year-old adolescent perfectly matched the sexual needs of a 45-year-old lady. Certainly this is a joke of nature, because the difference in age sets natural limits to such a relationship, but I will never forget Gudrun Mayer, and if we had both been born in the same era, she would undoubtedly have become my wife and we would have had children and thus built a life together, a subject we discussed several times.

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