Living in the high rise in Neckargartach was really wonderful, especially living right of the edge of civilization. I could sit on the balcony with a wonderful view of the Neckar River and the city of Heilbronn, or look out the back windows of the apartment to several kilometers of farm land. It was also wonderful for running or simply hiking.
I would often get in a good workout by loading my rucksack with several gallons of water, and hit the road for a fast road march. I would also load 3-4 half liter Stuttgarter Hofbrau beers in a small cooler with some ice blocks right in the top of the ruck for quick, easy access. As I gradually began to tire, I would empty the water a little at a time and continue to march.
I was out one afternoon on my usual circuit that would take be by the feuerplatz where I had shot pictures of Kelli. As I headed for an intersection where I would make a left turn toward the feuerplatz, I saw a figure topping the small hill to my right. I had to look closely at first. It almost looked like a monk in a flowing robe, or kaftan, complete with hood.
The person was moving at a decent pace and was carrying a tall walking stick with a bottle holder. At the pace we were walking, we would meet at the intersection. As we neared the person finally noticed me and threw the hood back. It was a woman with dark brown hair piled up into a knot on the back of her head.
As I approached, she smiled and waved at me as if she knew me. I waved back and she smiled some more. I spoke first, saying, "Grüss Gott!" This was a typical southern Germany greeting in an area that spoke a dialect of German called Schwäbisch. It was known to other German areas as a farmer's dialect, or more often what Americans would refer to a hick language.
She smiled and responded in kind. "Sprechen Sie Englisch?" I asked.
She smiled widely but shook her head no. That was okay with me, and I replied "Es ist kein problem."
She said something back to me but her Schwäbisch accent was thick and heavy and I didn't understand a word of it.
"Können Sie sprechen Hochdeutsch, bitte?" I asked.
She smiled broadly, saying, "Ja. Kein problem."
As I turned in her direction of travel, I asked "Darf ich mich zu Ihnen?"
She nodded and waved her hand for me to walk along with her. I did a quick appraisal before saying anything else. She appeared to be early to mid-40ish, nice looking without a bit of make-up. Her robe was loose and ruffled in the wind as we walked. It had large, belled sleeves, and alternated medium brown and forest green stripes. The material was thinner that I first thought. She wore comfortable looking sandals on her feet, which had professionally manicured toes.
I could tell little about her body, considering the robe she was wearing, but she did have a pleasantly obvious bulge for breasts, including a growing sign of nipples poking against the fabric. This bode well for braless!
We set up a nice hiking pace and headed down the road. She began steadily talking to me, some of which I didn't understand but mostly she talked about how much she enjoyed her afternoon walks. I noticed she had a small bottle of Jägermeister in the holder on her walking stick. It appeared to be about half full. This gave me a bit of a chuckle.
The farther we walked, the more I thought about how I could get to know this nice looking German frau, even though she was maybe a dozen years older than I was. This was back in the day before "cougars" or MILFs became a popular thing. She seemed wonderfully friendly, and as we walked she stayed close enough to me for her sleeves to brush against my arms.
She rattled on about a nosy neighbor she had, and I feigned interest. She said something I didn't understand about her neighbor, and when I asked, she made a circle with her fingers and thumb and turned it on her nose. I got the idea that her neighbor was excessively nosy and also a butt kisser.
We finally came down the easy slope to the feuerplatz.
"Möchten Sie für eine Minute Pause?"
She turned and smiled and replied, "Okay."
I stepped over the wall around the fire pit and slipped my ruck off my back and sat it on the ground. I dug into the top and opened my cooler.
"Möchten Sie ein Bier?" I asked, and motioned to her with one of the beers.
She smiled broadly, and gratefully replied, "Ja, bitte."
I used one of the D-rings on the ruck to pop the lids on two beers, and handed her one, saying, "Es ist Kalt."
As soon as she took it in her hand, she laughed lightly and told me, "Das ist eine amerikanische Sitte."
I quickly answered, "Ja, sehr amerikanisch!"
She laughed lightly in a pleasant, feminine voice. She got the Jägermeister from the holder, took a sip and chased it with a drink of beer. I took a long draw from my beer, and watched her. She took another sip, and then offered the bottle to me.
"Drink?"