Confessions of an Author

Chapter Eight. TRAGEDY FOLLOWS BLISS

One day, when I walked across Stephen's Square, I met one of my girl friends from Salzburg. She had seen me first and talked to me. And that afternoon I visited her in her stately mansion.

After the affair both girls had left Salzburg, their father had passed on not long afterwards and they decided to settle in Vienna. It would have been possible for them to lead a simple and quiet life on their inheritance, but the idea did not appeal to them. Then they had the splendid idea of opening an exclusive boarding home. It also gave them an opportunity to fulfill their heart's desire. A home for young gentlemen of fine families. Three or four at an exorbitant rate because these young gentlemen needed, except for their school education, everything at home: French and English conversation, piano and other music and many pleasures which young people otherwise would seek outside the home. They were lucky. Soon they had four young men between seventeen and twenty years of age, each one of them exceptionally good-looking. I am sure that the sisters exercised a very strict selective choosing.

When I walked into their home they flung themselves around my neck as if I had never been away, they behaved really as if we had seen each other the previous day. I had to tell them everything and they showed genuine concern about my fate. When I wanted to leave they insisted that I stay a little while longer. They wanted me to witness the life they were leading now. I did put in some resistance by not allowing any of the young men to see me. They laughed at me but finally they showed me a little room where I could be alone and watch through the keyhole. They thought I would come out of the room voluntarily once I had seen and witnessed the goings-on. They left me alone.

Somewhat later I heard voices, young, lusty, laughing voices. The sisters were alone in the other room, but I looked through the keyhole anyway to see what made them laugh.

I saw the girls talking to an older woman, obviously the cook. I also saw that the old woman, without any shame, was fingering Elly's lower belly, at the same time exposing Lotte's behind by lifting her skirt. She kissed Lotte's buttocks. Then she left and the girls set the table for coffee and cake. In came the four young gentlemen; they kissed the sisters' hands, all wore similar flannel suits, they waited till Lotte and Elly were seated and then took their own places. Everything went perfectly.

I quietly got myself a chair so that I could watch the proceedings at ease. I must have missed the very beginning, because suddenly I saw the girls and the four young men in paradise costumes. I saw four beautiful mast poles proudly erect, I saw Lotte and Elly each embrace two young men, I saw the six of them, laughing and panting, roll around on the rugs, I saw legs and arms entwined and in less than fifteen minutes both girls had been fucked twice. It was quite a sensation for me to view these male and female bodies in various stages of ecstasy.

Now it seemed that the four young men were about to leave the room, but the sisters called them back. Lotte and Elly rubbed the boys' members with soft towels and talked to them excitedly. I could only hear Lotte's slightly penetrating voice: “Today is a very special day. You can stay here all afternoon, but there won't be anything tonight.”

Regarding that last part of her sentence there was some slight protest. One of the young men walked over to the piano and started to play a waltz. I watched the nude couples dance past my door and I could breathe the aroma of the nude bodies. I noticed a young, handsome giant dancing with Lotte and trying to insert his member into her while whirling around to the strains of the waltz. At that moment Elly knocked on the door behind which I was hiding. The next moment I stood in the middle of a lot of naked people.

They flew apart, but Elly laughed and Lotte kept her giant in an embrace, allowing him to serve her standing in the middle of the room, groaning passionately. Then she ran over to me, kissed me and said, “You see?” She introduced me to the nude people, “Our dearest friend from whom you people may be able to learn a lot!”

And as if she had been love-starved for months, she tore the trousers off my body and before I could do anything, she was holding my erect member in her hands, putting kisses all over it. Elly called out, “He has the most beautiful body I have ever seen and as far as fucking is concerned, he can outdo each and every one of you.”

The young men seemed used to the fact that their paradise was inhabited by more than just one Adam and Eve, because my sudden entrance did not seem to bother them one whit. They only insisted that I join the group and take off my clothes. The young men were wild, but the two girls were even wilder. They no longer bothered to get up from the rug, but just lay there with their thighs spread apart, pulling one after the other down on top of them. As long as any of us could hold out we were straight fucking. And the moment our members needed some recuperating, our tongues became very busy. The boys licked everything: lips, breasts and nipples, between the buttocks and the sex organs. And when the members still did not get hard enough, the girls' tongues would pitch in. We were all rolling around on the carpet in one big ball. Lotte had one big member in her twat, another stuck in her behind, a third down her throat and another in her right hand. Elly only had two. Each one of the girls must have been fucked and sucked at least a dozen times before dinner was announced and they still were bucking and lustfully groaning for more.

They did not want to let me go and after dinner we were back down on the floor again. I was between the two sisters. I asked Lotte, “Aren't you afraid you will ruin these boys?”

“It's not this way every day,” she laughed. “Usually they only get it twice, once in the afternoon and once before bedtime. That's normal, isn't it? If the boys had their way, it would be like this afternoon every day. Oh, God, at least one knows why one is alive,” she added as an afterthought.

I asked her what they did those few days of the month when they were incapable and she said, “The boys are positively crazy about those days. They can only visit us at night and we keep the room dark. But have you never taken a woman during her period? That's when they are at their best.”

The young giant had overheard us and he slowly crawled over to Lotte and put his enormous erect member in her hand. “You see,” Lotte said, “all he has to do is hear about it and he is raring to go again!”

Without taking any further notice of us, the two started to lick each other and ere long the young giant threw himself upon her, penetrating her up to the hilt. Amidst her groaning and moaning, Lotte called out, “Elly does not have anybody yet, you lazybones!” Then she threw her legs around the giant's waist who kept pumping away and did not seem to get tired at all.

We all took turns in possessing Elly, who was very sweet and willing in her ecstasy. But when all of us had spent in her, the young giant was still deeply locked into Lotte, who was moaning low and spasming voluptuously. The young man was holding her buttocks firmly in his large hands, lifting her against him while grinding away at a steady pace. I have never seen such capacity and endurance in any woman before, or since.

All that time I had not once given a single thought to my girl, Anna. The newness of this orgy at the sisters home had completely wiped every other thought out of my mind. When I was in the big double bed between Elly and Lotte, trying to fall asleep, which I couldn't, I suddenly thought of her. It had never happened before that I did not show up for a solid day and night. To rid myself of thinking about Anna, I turned my face against Lotte's naked breasts and sucked her nipples. But she was so sound asleep that it did not wake her up.

That excited me. I became terribly agitated; I simply had to do something which would afford me release from tension, at the same time preventing me from thinking about my girl. Carefully I turned Lotte on her back. I did not have to pull her thighs apart because she opened up wide automatically, even in her deep sleep. I crawled on top of her and quietly guided my member into her, penetrating ever so softly but very deep. She stayed asleep and her breathing was deep and regular, it did not even quicken while I took her. I experienced a feeling of voluptuous release as I had never felt before. And when I had spent, I fell asleep on top of her.

When I woke up my member was still deep inside her. As a matter of fact, it had become quite hard again and I looked into Lotte's shining, laughing eyes, felt her hands in my armpits and her belly moving up against me.

“Oh, you sweet angel, you,” she sighed several times. Then she reached for Elly who was still asleep. But Lotte did not give in till her sister was wide awake and joined us. While I was poking away at Lotte, Elly had turned around in the bed and was working over my behind, exactly as we had done that evening in Salzburg when I was still the one and only in the girls' lives.

I was a guest at the home of my Salzburg girl friends for three days, and indeed, during that time the young men were limited to once in the afternoon and once at nighttime. For the remainder I was allowed to satisfy their every whim, and, incidentally, every one of my own whims. When I left their home, promising that I would return as soon as possible, I was completely worn out and my knees buckled under me. I went to the baths and from there straight home. I wanted to sleep, long and sound; afterward I would go and see Anna.

When I woke up after God knows how many hours, I was still shot. I had to admit regretfully that I was no longer capable of absorbing the excesses of the past few days. I wanted to excite myself and kept thinking about all the situations and positions I had been in; I tried to visualize Lotte and Elly, singly and together.

But then I had to think of the poor girl out of the whorehouse. My God, how nice and decent she was.

My knees were weak and my head was still spinning when I arrived at Anna's. She ran toward me and took me in her arms, still crying. “I could not even find out how you were. I would have visited you immediately if I had known where you live. You have to tell me your address. You could have been far more ill than you were now. You were ill, weren't you?” I felt guilty and I did not want to admit it. And one is never more unjust than when one feels guilty.

“You are nervous. Did anything happen? Please, tell me. Did you spend too much money on me?” She tried to nestle herself upon my lap. “You have been too good to me. I haven't earned so much goodness …”

She wanted to go on but I pushed her rudely away from me. She put a fist against her lips, knuckles white, and stared at me as if she wanted to look through me. That irritated me even more. I got up reluctantly and asked her, “Do I owe you any accounting for my time?”

She stared at me for a long time, biting her knuckles. “No, you don't… you're right.” But then she sank down into a chair and started to sob uncontrollably, even though she tried to contain herself.

I could not possibly have been normal and I must assume that the almost endless orgy at the home of the two sisters had dulled my senses, because I remained fully apathetic at the sight of the one woman I loved going through hell. When she did not stop crying I became furious, turned around and stomped out of the house. The next day I sent the girl a letter by messenger with a note for one thousand in it and the request to give me my freedom back. I still have to blush deeply and shamefully when I think about that. I am convinced that the girl would have flung the money in my face if I had given it to her myself, including all the other gifts she had received from me. But I was a big coward and remained hidden from her. She did not know where I lived but I moved nevertheless to one of the suburbs, wanting to put as much space between her and me as was physically possible. But she would be revenged … poor Anna.

* * *

I tried to lose myself in my work so I would not have to think about the new situation I had gotten myself into. I turned my nights into days and vice versa. I divided my time between my bed and my writing desk and the many leeches and parasites who kept me company, the pseudo literati one can find in almost any coffeehouse from Vienna to Berlin. All of them are loudmouths with a little bit of influence here and there; some of them even belonged to the editorial staff of a genuine newspaper.

I enjoyed reading my name in newspapers more frequently. Every time there would be some small item mentioning that one of my plays had been performed somewhere, obviously with great success, sometimes it would say that I was working on another one, then it was because one of my books would be reprinted, or a new one was about to be released. I scoured the drawers of my desk for small items I had written now and then, gathering them into anthologies that only found a publisher because my name on it was a guarantee for advance sales.

I know that people who write, and write things that are truly worth the trouble often plague themselves for months and years and then they have to grovel before some innate people in order to get their works published. But I never gave that a thought. One has to feel the ice-cold hand of death or go bankrupt to realize these simple truths. But in those days? I was proud of the fact that a well-known newspaper tried its best to add me to its staff and I became, though very temporary, one of their editorialists. I did not learn anything worthwhile during that period. How little use did I make of my experiences! But about that I will talk in another book, if I ever get around to writing one.

There were two people I liked a little (just a little) more than all the others with whom I associated. They stood out ever so slightly among the masses of acquaintances, but at least they stood out and that had attracted them to my attention. One was a very fat fellow who could have been a very fine writer. The few scraps he showed me to read proved that to me.

He was financially well-off and belonged to the very few who did not live off my income. He gorged himself on food and drink and ate himself into an untimely death. The other was the producer-director of a neighborhood theater. I mention both because they taught me an entirely new side to my sexual life. Once I came to know them better they allowed me to join them in a few of the big fat one's entertainment nights. By God, that was really something new to me, sickeningly new.

The fat one was, as he was wont to point out frequently with a whining voice, “absolutely through.” He was impotent, as he assured me often, with moist eyes and quivering lips. But he still had some desire left for a little excitement now and then. Lord knows how he did it, but he always managed to drum up a couple of waifs; boys and girls, about once a month. He would invite them into his home and personally give them a bath (the director and I were allowed to watch through a peephole), and then they would go into the living room where the children were ordered to masturbate, or to rub their sex organs against each other. The old lecher would just sit there, with but-toned-up fly, groaning with pleasure till some of his seed would drip through a limp member.

Those were his sexual holidays. The director enjoyed a few more realistic delights. And I? I had discovered something entirely new, though I never could find any true delight. Anyhow, these events ended abruptly, because our fat friend died. One day he had found a rather curious way of sexual satisfaction. He had lowered his enormous bulk into a tub of lukewarm water which was filled just high enough to allow the head of his member to bob up and down. He pulled the wings off a horsefly and let the insect crawl around on that tip. That's when a massive stroke surprised him.

We all knew that he had been playing this particular game once in a while and the life he was leading was both fascinating and repulsive to me. I endured it for two years and then the day of reckoning arrived. Those are the days that give birth to the most enormous stupidities.

I told myself that if sex had degenerated with me into wallowing in filth, I needed extra strong excitement to whip up my passions. Were there any that I had not yet tried? Now what? And again that same desire welled up in me: the love for my own sex. And I don't know why I resisted this urge with all the energy that was left in me, just like I had done every other time. Oh, how I wish I had given in to it because I allowed this desire to be conquered by the worst form of hypocrisy that our Philistine society could have dreamed up: I decided that it was about time to get married.

I had not given thought to any person in particular, merely to the idea itself. This was because of my reasoning: of all the other forms of sex, the only one that is unknown to me is the well-protected way of the marital bed. She has to be someone entirely different from all the others you know, I told myself. Usually one gets married because of love or adoration or, at least, to bring some form of regularity into one's life. About twice a week makes over a hundred times a year and that that sounds more than sufficient, according to church regulations. The man quietly at the side of his loved one, quietly doing with those bodily parts what nature intended him to do with them, and then back to sleep.

It started to sound excitingly new and I was overcome by a longing for happiness and a desire to get married great enough to inflame my excitable imagination. Therefore, I started to look around and really, among the citizenry I found myself a girl that seemed as if she were capable of giving me this particular paradise on earth. I was not a stranger among the members of the girl's family. They knew all about me from write-ups in the newspapers, and they respected me because I was rich and famous. Moreover the daughters of the house were enthusiastic about everything that looked like literature, especially the genre which one might consider modern.

In short, I became engaged. I told myself that I had to do things differently from other engaged couples who pretend respectability and in secret learn all about the charms of their brides by pawing with their coarse and vulgar hands, ruining the nice girls' blouses and dresses. Occasionally their underground activities would ruin a pair of good stockings or pull a pubic hair.

No, I preferred to be vulgar and indecent in words only, since this is very fashionable and expected from a modern man who is also a well-known literary person. Once my bride hinted that she did not understand that a man like me, especially during the opportunities we had together, remained 30 incredibly respectable as only a true Philistine could. “No, my child,” I told her, “I am a true connoisseur, and I refuse to enjoy my delights by bits and pieces. T take my pleasure all at once, I want to exhaust it completely and, if necessary, I will be destroyed by it.”

She cast her eyes down and asked shyly, a blush covering her face, “Have you never … found pleasure?”

“I have never been married,” I answered, and added more honestly, “I am waiting for happiness.” She rested her head on my shoulder and did not say a word. I waited, because I assumed that she was going to say something, something important. But she remained silent and, after awhile, started to chatter about other things.

A few weeks later she was my wife. To betray her during the engagement period would have been vulgar, to say the least. I did not even have any desire to do so. I had achieved a certain state of expectation which really made me feel very good. I wanted to remain chaste for this special one, who was going to become the center of my life and who existed for no one else but me.

After the wedding ceremonies we took the train. I felt terribly festive and kept telling myself that my life finally had been given a purpose. At nightfall we had arrived at a station which appealed to me. When we arrived at our hotel, I passionately embraced my beautiful young bride.

Silently I held her in my arms and finally my lips sought hers. “She is mine, she is mine,” inner voices jubilantly sang. It was not just a brutal feeling of lord and master; no, it was the exalted experience of a free spirit knowing that the merger of two was necessary to become one again. I knelt in front of her and asked her softly, “Do you want to give yourself entirely?”

She laughed. “Aren't we man and wife?”

“Not yet.”

She bent over me and said, whisperingly, “But please, be careful, don't make me pregnant right away. Do you really want children at all?”

I heard, but unfortunately did not listen. The shyness of the girl and her desire not to cut the period of happiness short with an unwanted pregnancy. The desire for possession had been awakened in me. The lust for one who had never before been possessed and who had saved her virginity for me.

I sat down and pulled my wife upon my lap. I started, as tenderly as possible, to unfasten her dress. I felt positively giddy when I exposed her well-formed, marble-white breasts and lovingly gazed upon the firm round globes. I kissed them and her shoulders and then I proceeded to unfasten her other garments. I carefully explored all the forms of this beautiful girl's body which soon was to be all mine. She resisted a little bit when I proceeded to take off the last obstacle but then she stood before me, a beautiful Eve as no painter would ever be capable of portraying, in the middle of the room, under the chandelier, the epitome of womanhood.

I kissed and kissed. Then I turned off the light and undressed. I embraced her and our glowing bodies pressed together. “Are you going to hurt me very much?” she whispered anxiously. I carried her to the bed and started to caress her slowly. A shiver went through her body. “I am afraid,” she said fearfully.

I took her firm breasts in my hands, rolled one nipple between my fingers and licked, nibbled and then sucked the other one. My tongue trailed a path along her belly, her sex and her thighs. Then I tried to break down her resistance. At first quietly and insistently and finally with a little bit more force.

I asked her, trying to tone down my excitement, “Do you think I am a brute, don't you want me?”

I noticed that she hesitatingly opened her thighs a little. Suddenly I threw myself upon her. I heard her cry out … it had happened. I took her, kissing her wildly and embracing her passionately. When I had sacrificed for the first time, I heard her groan and cry. I blanched. “It hurts so much,” she complained. I kissed her tenderly, but when I wanted to mount her again she begged-me not to do it. I shrank back and tried to remain calm. Oh, yes, she knew how to hurt me.

A little while later I felt her hand. “Are you mad at me? But please, it hurts so much!” And when I did not answer her, she crawled over to my side and kissed me. First my mouth, then my chest, my belly … she reached for my member and took it in her hands. “It's far too big for me.,” That sounded so horribly sobering. I gave her a quick kiss and said, “Go to sleep, my child.” She pulled away from me and soon. I heard' her regular breathing. She was sound asleep.

I intended to be very considerate. This young creature had to-get used to many things that I took for granted. We continued our trip that same day. All day she was very sweet and demure but when we were finally together in the suite of our hotel in Trieste, she snuggled up to me, took my head in her hands and said,

“Dear heart, we are modern people and we should be able to talk things out quite openly. And after all, since last night we are truly husband and wife.” She looked me square in the face, “And really, we should hold nothing back from each other. So, you see …” Now she hesitated slightly. I did not insist and waited. Finally she went on, ”… I've read a book, I think it was French … no, I'm sure it was … please, turn off the light.”

I turned off the light and when I had found my way back in the darkness to where we had been sitting, I grabbed something naked. I pressed my face against her thrusting breasts and hardening nipples and felt her hand steal down toward my groin. “Wait, I'll take everything off, and you undress, too. Yes?” She seemed to be very excited. Now we were nude. “Can you find your way to the bed, or at least to the night-light?”

I stumbled my way to the bed while she held onto me. I turned on the lamp on the night-stand, then I lifted up my young wife and lifted her into the bed. She held her arms tightly around my neck and pulled me with her. I covered her beautiful body with kisses. I lingered when I had reached her sex and pressed many kisses there to excite her even further. I pulled the lips with my fingers and stuck my tongue into the opening as deep as I could.

“Oh yes … fine … ooh, you … how … fine!”

It excited me tremendously. I licked and licked and the more I licked the more her beautiful body quivered with voluptuous pleasure. She bucked, she turned and thrashed and started to groan with carnal delight. Suddenly I felt her hands on my head. She caressed my cheeks, my ears and ruffled my hair. “Oh, sweetheart,” she exclaimed, “that's what I meant, and you can't get pregnant that way either … that's what I read in that French book.” She leaned upon one elbow, and kissed me. “I want to do the same thing to you, but how do I do it? You lick me and I lick you … oh, isn't that wonderful?”

She took my rigid member and pressed it, suddenly she planted a kiss upon it. “When you can lick me, I can lick you,” she exclaimed, happily laughing. I was so overexcited that I had no will of my own and I sank on my back. She licked and licked and licked and did not stop even when my seed was spilling. But now I had become incredibly horny.

She kissed me passionately with moist lips.

Then she asked, “Can't we do it at the same time you do me, I do you?” and she spread her thighs apart. I showed her how. I mounted her the wrong way, my face in her sex and my member turned toward her face. At first we licked mutually but soon she left my member alone and enjoyed herself alone. Only when she felt that I had satisfied her did she take it back against her lips, licking, occasionally nibbling with her teeth. After this second licking I was exhausted. But she wanted more. That night my misery had started.

She did not want an;- other way of intercourse and declared flatly, “Isn't it the highest form of love? Could you do a thing like that to a man you don't like?” Her logic was devastating.

And we licked. She me, I her. She started to bloom and looked more beautiful every day. The strain was beginning to show on me; I was heading for a nervous breakdown and after these nightly orgies I was incapable of going to sleep. She did not listen at all when I told her that this manner of conjugal bliss was killing me slowly. “I will be very considerate,” she promised. But when, because of the proximity of her beautiful nude body my member became rigid, she would exclaim happily, “But see, he wants to!” And then I, too, wanted it again. She loved it so much that she also wanted to be licked during the day, and there have been days that she insisted upon at least six times. And I had to be undressed during these ceremonies at all times. Finally my member refused to react at all, and my wife resorted to tricks. She rubbed it, sobbing, against the throbbing nipples of her breasts, she licked my anus, and even that seemed to excite her enormously.

We had long since returned to Vienna. I still had one joy, the sight of her marvelous, nude body. But I also had the desire to possess it. Completely, not just with my tongue. I implored to no avail. I begged her, and she would answer, “You want to be a modern man, don't you?”

One night I came home much later than usual. When I entered the bedroom, I found it empty. I became worried. I looked for her everywhere and when I came close to the door of the servants' quarters I heard a noise in the chambermaid's room. I heard moaning, “Ooh, yes … that way … down further … Oh, my God … it's great!”

I sneaked away and went to bed, as if I did not know that my wife needed more tongues than mine only. An hour later she came down, relaxed, happy and a little bit tired.

She pretended to be very surprised to find me in bed, and as if nothing had happened, she kissed me and lay down herself. I started to boil over, “I've been looking all over for you …”

“I know, darling, and it was very decent of you not to open that door … you know that Tina is fantastic. She licks like no one else. Really, you should try it, too. Have something really good and have her give it to you …”

All the hate within me crystallized and I said, “Fine!”

Her eyes lit up and she said quickly, “I know what we can do; you lick me, she licks you, and if she wants to, she can twiddle herself with her fingers!” She bounced out of the bedroom and returned soon with a slightly reluctant chambermaid.

She pulled off the girl's nightgown and stood next to her. “Which one of us has the nicest figure?”

I cannot remember whether the girl was good-looking or ugly. The only thing I can remember is that I threw her upon the bed.

I heard my wife ask, “What position should we take?”

I knew what position I was going to take. I was going to rape and fuck the maid right in front of my wife's eyes.

But my fury had killed my desire. I couldn't … What had happened to me; what was I going to do?

“Back to your room,” I hollered at the girl.

When she had slipped out of the room I turned around to my wife. I grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to the bed. And I hit her and hit her, and if I had not blacked out, I would have killed her.

I left my home that same night.

This marriage has brought me to the brink of my grave. A serious heart condition is the result of months of unnatural copulation. I will most likely die of it before I have finished this confession.

But I do hope that this writing will show this execrable creature whom I loved and who called herself my wife that the only whore I ever knew and who temporarily played a role in my life was venerable compared to her who had vowed before God to share my bed. Amen!