Lotte S - Memoirs

Monday-Sanchez' Day. The waves rose and fell gently. With her eyes closed Lotte imagined herself on the desk of a cabin cruiser in the middle of a quietly rolling sea. Except this was better. Instead of lying on a hard wooden deck she was floating on the soft waves themselves. Every inch of her naked flesh was caressed by the warm undulations, the endless ebb and flow of the waterbed's captive and personal tide.

The specially made waterbed-twelve feet in diameter and "passionate" purple in color-was Lotte's most persistent lover. It never tired of trying to satisfy her with its infinite variety of intimate touches. Wanting to change the direction of the tidal flow, she merely arched her back and pressed her heels into the cushion of water. Immediately she felt the caressing movement against her buttocks and the swell of the wave as it moved up her spine. By the time it reached her back it seemed enormous, lifting her head and shoulders high in the air. Even before it passed she could feel the second wave rocking her buttocks and rolling larger and larger toward her shoulder blades.

The waves continued endlessly, rocking her body, massaging her muscles, raising her high above the surface of the bed. At the crest of the waves she was almost in a sitting position and could dig her fingers even farther inside her cunt, clawing at the velvet walls and releasing the wonderful juices that Sanchez loved so much.

"Vunderbar!" Lotte cried in exaltation. "Oh, you vunderful vaterbed! I luf you!"

Minutes later, with the sea calm beneath her and the turbulent excitement of her body relaxing once more into its soft, delicate contours, Lotte languidly raised the lid of one eye and peeked at the wall clock. Ten minutes before six in the evening. Sanchez would be arriving for dinner in a few minutes. But there was no need to rouse herself from her comfortable position. Everything was prepared. Sanchez had been eating dinner with her on Mondays for some time now and she knew precisely how to satisfy his healthy Mexican appetite.

Learning to cook for Sanchez had been no easy task. In Germany where she grew up she had never tasted Mexican food. Being a provincial country girl, it had not occurred to her that people in other countries ate anything except the same kraut and weiners and salted pork that made up her daily menu.

Fortunately, she was not destined to remain provincial. She was only seventeen when a handsome tourist coaxed her down onto one of her father's haystacks and broke her virginal bond with German provincialism. She would always remember that moment as the most glorious of her life. When he gently spread her thighs apart, it was as though he opened the world for her. The gift of his throbbing cock inside her innocent body was the gift of life itself.

Not until after they were married did Lotte realize that the handsome American tourist was also rich. They toured Europe for almost a year before Edward brought her home to New York, and by then she was no longer an innocent young country girl. She had dined with royalty, slept in the finest hotels of the world, learned to drape her body with the most exquisite fashions. She had experienced the ways of physical love that few women ever dare. Edward had taught her to be a lady in public-and a woman in bed.

Since she had never given her body to any man but her husband, perhaps she did not realize how truly remarkable his sexual perfection was. Not then, anyway. She knew only that every moment touching his body was a moment spent in heaven. She loved him as she could love no other man.

Nine years after they were married, Edward was killed in an airliner crash in Italy. For many months it seemed to Lotte that she could not survive his death. Indeed, she did not want to. She made two attempts at suicide, but each was thwarted by an unexpected circumstance.

Her first attempt was with a razor blade. She had waited until the maid's night off, when she could be alone in the apartment. As fate worked, however, Ilse, the maid, returned to get an advance on her next week's check so she could buy a few Christmas presents before the seasonal rush. She found Lotte sitting in the bath tub, her head resting back against the ceramic tile, eyes closed, a dreamy smile on her lips. The water was quickly coloring scarlet as life drained from her body and the cold mortality drew her closer to her desired rendezvous with Edward.

Lotte's second attempt at suicide was the most miraculous, however. It changed her life almost as much as that moment years before in her father's haystack, when Edward brought a young girl to life. Now brought to life a second time, Lotte was never to learn exactly what happened, so she preferred to think of it as a miracle. For all anyone knew, the incident may have occurred just as she believed.

This time she closed the door of her garage, rolled down all of her car's windows, and started the engine. The exhaust fumes had a wonderful, soothing aroma as she inhaled them into her lungs, and before long she was drowsing peacefully on the verge of Edward's heaven. From somewhere in her mind's foggy world she heard a voice whisper quietly, "No, my darling. This is not my wish. I will meet you again in the future, when God's will brings us together forever. But this is not the time. I wish you to live. Enjoy life as we enjoyed it together. I will be watching always, experiencing what you experience. So live, my darling Lotte-for me as well as yourself!

And with that she felt herself being cradled in a gentle pair of arms, lifted from the car-then she gulped the fresh air, felt the flush of a breeze, the heat of the sun against her cheek. Once more she had been snatched back from the jaws of death.

Whether the voice was dreamy fantasy and some stranger (or perhaps servant) actually lifted her from the car, perhaps she will never know. In her own mind, it was actually Edward's arms that lifted her from the car and brought her to life for a second time.

Although she had slept in many beds since that fateful day, experienced the variety of sexual gratifications with many men, none could approach the perfection of her love with Edward. Finally she learned to stop seeking such perfection in a single man. She discovered that most men excel at a certain aspect of sexual endeavor and could be enjoyed for that one thing alone. And on this basis she had finally achieved the ultimate in sexual gratification that most women never know.

Today was Monday, Sanchez' day to share her delights. She had cooked him the finest Mexican dinner he would ever eat. As her fingers stroked her wet pussy her desires were aroused to a fever pitch by the knowledge that soon, any moment now, she would be able to serve Sanchez his delicious morsels.

Indeed, she had a joyous surprise for him this evening. Something she had never served him before. Her ditty tingled as she thought of his excitement, knowing as she did how much he loved this particular entree. Oh, Sanchez would love her tonight as he had never loved her before. Eating was his specialty, and he did it better than anyone else in the world!

"Come, my lovely Sanchez," she whispered breathlessly. "Come for your delicious meal!"

"Ah, such exquisite German wine! I have never tasted it so fruity, so full bodied, my bonito Corazon."

"I haf special preparations," Lotte told him, gently stroking his balls. Then she laughed. "But who drinks German vine vit a Mexican dinner, my darling? You should haf Tequila instead!"

"We have invented a new delicacy, my pet," Sanchez told her, then proceeded to lick her wet hairs with his tongue. Her body-wine bubbled from her slit as though from a subterranean well. After a moment he pressed his lips over the foaming chasm and gorged himself on the succulent juices, swishing them around inside his mouth and drowning his taste buds in the joyous flavor of Lotte's German wine.