Chapter 1

"Kurt." A vaguely familiar voice disturbed my reverie, "May I sit here? It's a bit crowded!"

I had been enjoying a leisurely coffee at the mall, watching the shoppers riding the elevators: harried young mothers manoeuvring baby buggies and shepherding straggling kids through the throng. Couples arm in arm, oblivious to the rest of the world hurrying by. Men striding purposefully in a beeline to their various destinations, casting impatient glances at the parents who failed to control their fractious broods. Older women, usually in pairs, festooned with bags emblazoned with the logos of the famous shops they had visited, animatedly discussing the goods displayed in the shop windows.

And girls! Oh those beautiful creatures in twos and threes everywhere, arms linked and giggling, strutted, paraded, undulated past my eyes. Skimpily, provocatively, dressed as the heat wave permitted; proud young breasts threatening to burst forth from scarcely adequate cover; smooth bare midriffs and bejewelled navels; short low-slung skirts revealing shapely thighs and a show of thong disappearing into that mystical valley; half-hidden tattoos peeping round the edges of clothing. A voyeur's paradise!

I looked up and recognised Fraulein Reimann, a spinster about my mother's age, who lived in the apartment on the next floor above home where I lived with my parents. Her hands were burdened with plastic carriers and she was precariously balancing a tray. I smiled a neutral welcome and indicated the vacant space opposite. She sighed with relief as she unburdened herself and sank her body onto the chair, organising her bags around her feet then turning her attention to the coffee and pastries on the tray.

I returned my gaze to the hustling, bustling throngs weaving in endlessly random patterns on the floor below, like so many ants scurrying about their various tasks until Fraulein Riemann's voice pulled my reluctant attention from the crowds and back to the table. She was asking the usual string of questions women of her age asked youths of my age: how were my parents? My brother, my sisters? How were my school results? What was I doing for the summer vacation? Did I have a current girlfriend?

With the intrusive persistence of the mature woman, Fraulein Reimann drew out of me that my parents were fine: they and my younger siblings had gone to Düsseldorf for two weeks, leaving me behind because I had a couple of employment interviews. My visit to the mall had been to buy some summer shorts, shirts and swimming gear for my own vacation three weeks hence and that I and my latest girlfriend had split a couple of weeks ago.

Her questions eventually dried up and she looked me over; an almost predatory glint in her eye. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head, a few errant wisps escaping about her ears. Piercing violet eyes looked out from a generously fleshed face; the fine dusky fuzz above her upper lip was highlighted by the froth from her coffee, absently licked away by a small pink tongue. She wore a light flowered cotton dress which was half a size too small, her ample bosom forcing gaps between the buttons to reveal glimpses of the bra beneath. Her arms were fleshily flabby as they emerged from the short, loose sleeves and her pudgy fingers toyed with her empty coffee cup.

I excused myself and stood up saying I was going to get another coffee. She stood and insisted she'd get it if I would keep my eyes on her bags. She wanted another cup herself anyway. I sat down and watched her as she made her way to the counter. The dress was stretched tightly over her shoulders and back, the outline of her deep bra clearly contoured on the thin material clinging with perspiration to her body. The vague pale shape of her briefs around the generous backside was visible as the glare of the window opposite made the material of her dress semi-transparent: her shadowy fleshy thighs descended to reveal surprisingly shapely calves.

As we drank our coffee she offered me a lift if I would help with her bags. I was grateful as I wasn't looking forward to the journey home, either walking the five kilometres in the unremitting sun or being stifled on a crowded airless bus. We finished our drinks in no particular hurry then made our way to the multi-storey car park. She carried a bag in each hand as I struggled with the rest. The light breeze wafting through the welcomingly cooler shades of the car park chilled the perspiration in my shirt and I gratefully dumped the bags into the boot of her car.

She made her way through the busy town centre and it wasn't too long before she pulled into her parking space behind the apartment block. I mentally cursed as I remembered that the elevator was 'temporarily' out of order for the third time that month and we were both breathing heavily after climbing the stairs to the fourth floor where she lived. She opened the door and preceded me into the apartment which was the mirror image of our own.

There was a strong smell of lavender pervading the neatly furnished rooms. Fraulein Reimann led me through to her bedroom and told me to dump her packages on the floor. I did so and gratefully stretched and flexed my aching shoulders and fingers. I asked to use her bathroom: she gave her consent and when I returned she was just putting the phone down.

She asked if I could fix a plug for her: her vacuum cleaner was out of action. She produced the new plug and I sat at the kitchen table doing the simple wiring. I accepted her offer of a cold drink and she placed a glass of chilled orange juice on the table then stood behind me with her hands on my shoulders, watching as I manipulated the wires and screws.

Her hands massaged into the muscles which were still a little sore from carrying all her bags. That felt welcome until her cool fingers slipped beneath the shirt and disconcertingly rubbed over my chest. Her large bosom was pressed into my back and shoulders as she bent down to smooth her fingers across my little nipples which, for some reason perked up. Despite myself, I was embarrassed to feel my penis starting to tent in my shorts as I finished my task and drank my fruit juice

I felt her warm breath, panting slightly, on my ear as she slowly opened the buttons on my shirt. She made me stand and pulled me into her bedroom as she removed my shirt then and made me lie on the bed. I watched avidly as she opened her dress to reveal a pair of soft mounds swelling over the top of her brassiere and lower down her tummy and hips bulged over her plain cotton briefs. Smiling, she unfastened her bra and the pale moons sagged a little after the restraining material had been removed.