In this chapter Barbara and Sven get to know each other a little better and often have sex. They both are somewhat dominant and exhibitionistic. The first sign of trouble appears.
§2.1 The Netherlands, late April 1990.
Her last words still rang in my head.
"I really, really need you," she had said.
This choice of words seemed a bit strange to me, when you depart. Was this typically East German?
"Bye, I love you," or something like that, was something I would expect sooner.
At that time, just after the fall of the wall but before German unification, it was difficult to make telephone calls in the GDR. Mobile phones and the internet did not exist yet. The telephone network predated the war and could not cope with the sudden increase in telephone traffic. International telephone calls could even be called a disaster. They worked very hard to get the country in order, but it would take a long time before everything was ready.
Writing was the best way to keep in touch. The mail took one to two weeks. I could understand German quite well. Writing German is unfortunately something I'm very bad at, but necessity forced me to try.
My concentration was crap, I barely slept and I barely ate. My thoughts were focused solely on Barbara. Of course, the day after she left, I sent her a letter saying I loved her and wanted to see her again. Not only because of the fantastic sex, but also because I wanted to understand her a little better. She was extremely kind and full of odd mysteries.
Why did she want to divorce her sympathetic husband? That was incomprehensible. Why did she leave so abruptly when we first met? I didn't understand that either. Why was she kicked out of the GDR national Olympic gymnastics team? There must be a reason for that. How could she have become a nurse if she wasn't allowed to study? Too many questions.
Sometimes chance and luck conspire. A week after Barbara left, my wife and I received an invitation to a wedding. I had a job to do on the day of the wedding, so I couldn't come along. My wife went alone and was going to spend the weekend with her family after the wedding.
In a second letter to Barbara, I bluntly wrote that I assumed that she would like to meet me again and that I had therefore reserved a room in a German railway hotel about halfway through our residences. It was entirely up to her whether she wanted to appear. My letter would probably reach her in time. However, her answer would not be back in time. Anyway, I promised to be there.
Four days later I received a long letter from Barbara. Poste restante. She had already started it on the train, and had sprinkled it with her perfume. Her handwriting was terrible, but it quickly became clear to me that it was a real love letter. Barbara wrote that she was sick with desire to crawl safely into the arms of her big strong "Seebär." Was this a hint that I had a little too much bacon on my stomach? Or did it have to do with the canoe? She was difficult to fathom.
The envelope also contained some recent professional black and white photos of her in a sexy leotard. They looked like some kind of instructional photos. Barbara could be seen in all kinds of awkward positions. The photos were a bit erotic, but that might just be me. In one picture, she stood on her hands, bent back, with her feet under her chin. Some people can do truly astonishing things with their bodies! The photos came with a separate note that read:
"Just to make sure you don't forget me."
She was apparently still a little insecure about my feelings for her. She didn't have to worry about that though. She could now also deduce that from my letters. If I ever developed dementia, the last thing that would disappear from my memory would be her enraged look, with those breathtaking, sparkling, bright amber-brown eyes, when I first met her.
The photos suggested she was still doing gymnastics or athletics or something like that. This would immediately explain how she was so extraordinarily flexible and strong.
Barbara thanked me a great deal for the most beautiful day of her life, and she wanted to meet me again as soon as possible.
§2.2 West Germany, May 1990.
Dressed casually is something that feels comfortable for me. I normally wear a sweater and jeans or, if it's warm and the environment allows it, nothing at all. Women often want a well-groomed man, dressed in a smart suit. The renewed meeting with Barbara was of utmost importance to me, so I would go with all the bells and whistles. I had put some money aside for the hotel and dinner, and with my last guilders, I bought a return ticket to the chosen station.
It was a rainy day. Upon my arrival, I was not surprised that Barbara already was on the platform to see me again :-) Despite the weather, her coat was on top of her weekend bag. She wore a very short black dress with bare arms and a deep décolleté. A particularly revealing dress. Her dark purple satin bra and panties were clearly visible through the thin fabric. Her fantastic body was also clearly visible: muscular yet one hundred percent female. A woman on the warpath. She wouldn't let me escape!
Barbara flew to me and immediately jumped on my hips. Reconnecting our minds resulted in an explosion of pure happiness. Kissing, with her legs around my hips, her arms around my neck and my hands under her buttocks, we greeted each other. With two bags on my shoulder and a kissing Barbara on my hips, I walked to a building with the appropriate name "Railway Hotel". Wooden floor, worn carpets and plush on the tables. It was old and needed some maintenance, but It was clean and tidy. The agreed wide double bed in our room was more like a small twin bed, but that didn't bother us.
I thought it would be nice to sit down and cuddle a bit, but Barbara had something else in mind. She looked at me sultry and immediately stripped me of all of my clothes. I didn't need that anymore for the time being, she said, spinning around me like a tailor measuring me for a suit. Her conquest was inspected. Her eyes slowly moved over my naked body. She assaulted me with a lusty glance and struggled keeping her hands off me.
§2.3 Screwing and talking.
"Sit on the bed," she commanded.
I noticed before that she sometimes behaved a bit dominantly.
Barbara turned away from me and took off her panties. She turned back again so I could take a good look at her. She pushed the straps of her dress aside and gravity did the rest. She was standing right in front of me. Her vertical smile was almost at eye level, but hidden from view by her dense black lawn. Barbara looked at me defiantly and said:
"You're so good with bras, aren't you? Show me again how you do that."
I pulled her forcefully against me. With my nose in her dark bush, I immediately and unnoticed opened her bra. The pheromones hidden in her wildly erotic scent flowed into my body. With effort, I pushed her away from me again.
