Frau Hauptners White Panties

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

well it's certainly been a while, but as usual life got in the way. I've had this story sitting around for about two years. The character Giselle is based on someone I met, a couple of years ago. It was a brief encounter of about five minutes. She passed on good comments about my work ( I am a professional musician, in case you hadn't worked it out). But she made a large impression on me that I built this fantasy around her. So as ever, the story is a complete fabrication, with true elements in there. I'll leave you to decide which is which.

Hope you enjoy the story and I welcome any nice comments you may have.

***o0o***

For Alex Mann, the evening of Friday 22nd April, 2012 was going to become a significant one. If only for the fact that it was a 20th anniversary in his career as a musician.

He'd been playing the guitar for 30 years, as a professional and in the beginning he'd taken any job he could lay his hands on, which resulted in his performing in a variety of venues, such as ferries from the UK to the continent, private parties, restaurants and bars all over the UK, Europe and Scandinavia. He'd even had tenure in a 60's band, prior to going solo until the untimely death of the lead singer, which resulted in the band going its separate ways.

Now in his late 50's, Alex had slowed a little. Taking jobs that suited him, rather than just for the money. being a musician had brought some benefits, including all the pussy he could handle, especially when he was younger. Now those particular benefits weren't so forthcoming, but he still performed because he enjoyed his job, first and foremost.

One gig that he came back to time and time again was a bar in Germany. He fell in love with the job from the first time he played there. The bar was a fantastic and unique place to perform in. The staff were great to work with and even after so many years, when that staff had turned over a few times, the replacements were just and nice and polite.

This was where he would be celebrating this 20th anniversary, because it was 20 years ago, give or take a couple of months that Alex had walked through the door with his guitar case slung across back. The job had been contracted, so the management were expecting him. The sound system was already installed, which meant all Alex had to do was plug in and play.

The company that owned the bar, owned several restaurants and bars all over the city and three more of them had guitarists and even a piano player in one of them. All four musicians lived on top of each other in an apartment building.

Alex's apartment was functional. Not luxurious in anyway, but comfortable and a haven to return after a busy night. It was also a place to bring women back to, if any came his way. He'd a few dalliances over the years and one or two them had developed in relationships. But they tended to flounder when Alex left town to work elsewhere.

10 years down the line, the company made some changes, after leases were cancelled or not renewed because death. These restaurants closed and most of the staff were absorbed into the other restaurants. The apartments were sold off to a developer who turned into rentals for business people and tourists.

Only Alex's apartment remained. Something he was thankful for.

During his first contract, when he was in his late 20's, Alex had a relationship with his first mature woman. Her name was Katja and she was in her late 40's. The relationship was only to be a month long summer romance, but Alex remembered that she was one of the hottest women he had ever met and boy did she know how to fuck.

10 years later on, Alex could look back on those times with affection and when there was alack of female interest in his life, they provided suitable fantasies for nights when he masturbated.

There was to be another reason why Friday 22nd April, 2012 was going to be significant to Alex, he just didn't know how yet.

***o0o***

The strident ringing of the mobile phone seemed to fill Giselle Hauptner's apartment. Giselle was, at that moment in time, just stepping out of the shower. Dressed only in a towel, wrapped around her voluptuous figure, Giselle padded from the bathroom, to the lounge, leaving wet footprints and puddles in her wake.

She found the phone, where she had left it. Picking it up, she checked the caller ID and saw that it was her friend, Ulrika or Ulli to her friends.

Smiling, Giselle accepted the call.

"Hi Ulli, so nice to hear from you."

Since the death of Giselle's husband, almost fifteen years ago, Giselle and Ulli had an arrangement to meet once a month to go to the theatre, or the ballet or a concert. Whichever caught their fancy.

"Hi Gilli, I hope I wasn't interrupting anything."

Giselle told Ulli that she had just finished showering. She asked Ulli what was the purpose of her call.

"I thought that we could catch the Philharmonic playing a selection from Monteverdi, Handel and Vivaldi at the Opera House tonight. What do you think?"

Then she added, "I have the tickets already."

It wasn't Giselle's ideal night out and she agreed to go on the proviso that there would be a light supper and wine afterwards. Ulli agreed.

After hanging up, Giselle went to her wardrobe. Unwrapping the towel and tossing it onto her bed, Giselle studied her naked self for a few minutes. She would soon be turning 70 years old, but she still had a good body, she thought. Okay, her breasts didn't defy gravity, like they once did, but they still hung in a way that was attractive and the last gentleman who had been lucky enough to find his way across her threshold and given her the fucking she desired, had commented on what a delightful pair of tits she had. Her stomach had spread a little, but a careful diet and regular exercise had slowed the momentum. Below her tummy and above her thighs, a prominent bush of dark public hair grew. She had never shaved, despite what fashion magazines wrote about it. But if she did have a date, she would trim the hair, so that it didn't sprout from between her groin and whatever underwear she was wearing.

She ran her fingertips through the soft dark curls as she debated whether to trim the hedge. Could she be lucky enough to chat up someone in the concert hall? Would she meet someone eligible in whatever restaurant they ended up in afterwards?

She padded into her bathroom and opened the drawer in the vanity unit. She picked up a battery powered hair trimmer. Before switching it on, she checked that the battery was charged and the blades were clean. Satisfied on both counts, Giselle switched on the trimmer and pointed it at her pubic mound. She chuckled as the vibrations from the machine coursed through her body and reminded herself that she would need to use a different vibrating tool afterwards.

After she had trimmed back the hair on her mound, shaping it into a V shape, Giselle decided that she would remove the hair around her pussy lips and anus. She ran some hot water into the sink and grabbed a face flannel. After wetting the flannel, she rubbed over her labia and anus. She smiled as it felt nice to have warm water over those areas. She then picked up a small can of intimate shaving gel and squirted a small amount into her hand, before massaging it into the hair around her pussy. As she rubbed the gel over her labia, she felt moisture that was not from the gel. She was turned on.

She picked up her razor and slowly and gently ran it over her puffy labia, removing the hair from them. Then she squatted into the middle of the bathroom floor and ran the blade from back to front, across her anus and perineum.

Using the flannel again, she washed the remainder of the shaving gel from her vulva and anus, before washing out the the flannel and hanging it up to dry. She emptied the wash basin and made sure she had washed any hair that had been deposited.

She popped the razor into the drinking cup, at the side of the faucet and walked back into the bedroom.

The clock on her nightstand read 17:25, which meant that Ulli wouldn't be arriving for another hour and a half at least.

With a smile on her face, Giselle walked over to the nightstand and pulled open the drawer. Inside was a small selection of pleasure tools at her disposal. She selected a seven inch gold vibrator. She was so horny and wet that there was no need for the bottle of lube that was also in the drawer. She climbed onto her bed and lay down. Giselle switched on her vibrator and began her enjoyment by running its tip over her nipples. She was surprised at how sensitive they were and the sensation she felt ran from her her breasts to her pussy, causing it to moisten more. She ran the vibrator over one breast while she teased and pulled at the nipple on her other breast. Cupping that breast, she pushed it up to her mouth and gently sucked on it.

It felt good, but not as good as when her lover would suck her nipples.

She allowed the vibrator to trail over her abdomen and onwards to her mound. She let it rest at the top of her slit, right over her clitoral hood. A warmth coursed through her body and she felt her pussy moisten even more. She ran the fingers of her free hand over her vulva and discovered that she was soaking wet.

She looked at the wetness on her fingers and popped them into her mouth before sliding the golden love tool in her drenched vagina. It didn't take long for Giselle to feel the unmistakable sensation of her impending orgasm beginning to build.

She slid the middle finger of her free hand over her clitoral hood and coaxed her love button out into the open. Licking her middle finger, she ran lazy circles over her hardening bud, moving faster and faster as her orgasm began to take hold. Suddenly her entire body stiffened and her breathing stopped, momentarily. Tremors ran through her and she let go of her vibrator. Her vaginal muscles squeezed the sex tool and expelled it from her body as she rubbed and tweaked her clitoris. Her moans became louder as her orgasm washed over her like a tidal wave.

Slowly, as her orgasm subsided, Giselle regained her composure and began to breath again.

"God, that was intense," she whispered, breathlessly to herself.

***o0o***

Alex checked his watch. It read 21:15. Time for his second set. His first set was always a collection of obscure and not so well known instrumentals, that he had been playing for almost 30 years. Some of his friends and colleagues had criticised him for not updating his set. But Alex argued that in most cases, most people weren't listening to the music anyway and he was correct.

The early part of the night at the restaurant was populated with diners, either eating before going onto a concert or some other engagement, or business folk, trying to impress a potential client. Alex remembered a time when he worked in a restaurant in Amsterdam that had a great reputation and consequently invited the attentions of celebrities and business people. They always chose to sit close to where the piano was situated. but spent a majority of their meals chatting about deals or fiscal quarters. They sometimes even complained the music being too loud. Wankers, he thought. If you don't like the music, move tables.

He had a theory that when people complained about the volume level, it wasn't because he was playing too loud. The people didn't know the music and therefore didn't want to hear it. When faced with the loud music complaint, he would pretend to turn the music down and then played something that was recognisable. No one complained after that.

But Alex learned his lesson and chose to leave what he called the "good stuff" until those people had vacated the restaurant.

"It was too good for the likes of them," he would say, as he played some obscure Andrès Segovia composition.

Tonight was pretty much like any other night. He sat and played at one end of the L shaped room. To his right and in front of him were tables and booths and to his left were tables for singles, couples, foursomes and at the far end of the L shape was a long table, large enough to accommodate ten people.

He had a top hat champagne cooler on a stand beside his seat, with a hand written sign in German, thanking people who left tips. Some did. Some didn't. One night, a guest and his wife were leaving and he dropped a €20 note in the hat. Alex smiled and said, "Danke," which is German for thanks. But the man then began to dig around inside the hat, looking for change. He pulled out a €10 note and pocketed it. Alex complained that he wasn't allowed to do that and both the guy and his wife just shrugged their shoulders, in a "c'est la vie" attitude, as they left.

The thing that niggled Alex most about the gig was the utter indifference some had to him. Guests had to pass him, in order to reach their tables and when they left. He would smile and say "Hello," or "Welcome," or "tschüss", which means "bye", when they were leaving. Some would smile in return, but most wouldn't even engage in eye contact. Alex felt that it was like if they made eye contact and spoke to him, they might have to part with extra money.

But what he absolutely loved about the gig was that no one bothered him. He occasionally had song requests, but not often. But some did have the politeness to leave a tip. He figured it out early on, that if a guest liked his voice and not just the music, he made tips. He also learned not to second guess the night based on the guests behaviour. He sometimes made more money from quiet nights than from busy ones.

The job also allowed to him to indulge his passion for women and this restaurant delivered in spades. There was something about German women of a certain age that attracted him.

***o0o***

It was close to eleven o'clock when Ulli and Giselle walked into the bar, for supper. It appeared to be the only place, on the block, still open, which Giselle found a little puzzling and annoying. Annoying, until she found herself captivated by the smooth voice of the musician, performing inside.

Alex was just coming to the end of the song, when the two ladies took their seats.

He spotted them and called out to welcome them, announcing that if they had any requests, he was open to most of them, which elicited a few chuckles from the other diners.

"Was he trying to flirt with us?" asked Ulli.

"Be quiet and eat your soup," replied Giselle, enjoying the attention.

Just before midnight, Alex announced his final song and thanked everyone for coming to the restaurant. As he played the song, which was a Neil Diamond cover,

Ulli told Giselle that she was ready to leave.

"Are you coming to?" she asked Giselle.

With a wry smile on her lips, Giselle replied, "Oh I sincerely hope so later."

Ulli was clearly annoyed, as she collected her coat and handbag.

"I'm leaving," she said. "I don't why we do this. All you seem to be interested in is picking up men."

"You're just frustrated because you haven't had a man between your thighs in years," replied Giselle. "Sit with me while and you might learn something."

Huffing and puffing, Ulli reluctantly put her clothing over her seat and sat down again. Giselle called the waitress over and asked her what the singer's favourite drink was. She was told Craggenmore single malt scotch. Giselle ordred a glass and a glass of red wine each for her and Ulli.

The drinks arrived and Giselle picked up the scotch glass and walked to over to Alex.

"Hello, she said.

Alex turned around to be faced with a vision of beauty.

She was about his height, her long grey hair was tied in pony tail that fell down her back and finished at her waist. She wore a blouse of blue cotton, with a yellow floral motif. She also wore black leather trousers, that seemed quite tight On her arm was slung a black leather handbag and in her hand was clutched a whisky glass, filled with a twelve year old Craggenmore single malt.

"I just wanted to tell you that my friend and I have really enjoyed your music," Giselle continued.

"Thanks," replied Alex, clutching his guitar case and microphone. "I appreciate that. I hope you tell the management that." He winked.

"Of course," she replied. "We have just been to the opera house to see a performance by the Philharmonic. We thought that we would find a place to have a late supper and believe or not, this was the only place close by that was open. But what drew us in was your music. You have a very nice voice."

Alex thanked her again.

Giselle asked, "My friend and I were wondering if you were not doing anything now, whether you would like to sit and have a drink with us. The bartender told me you like whisky, this particular brand, in fact."

Alex smiled.

"That's very kind of you, " he replied. "I have nothing special to do now. I normally have a whisky while sitting at the end of the bar. But it would be nice to spend sometime with such attractive ladies."

He felt that he might be laying it on a bit too thick, but he had said it and there was no taking it back.

Giselle blushed a little. Alex told her that he had to run quickly back to his apartment and drop his stuff off. If the ladies could wait, he would appreciate it.

***o0o***

Alex accepted Giselle's offer to sit with her and friend Ulli. He thought he was being polite for her buying him such an expensive drink. he had no idea that Giselle has a plan.

After the introductions were made Alex took his place, sitting down with the two ladies, Giselle set his drink down in front of him and then took the seat opposite him. Seated next to her was Ulli. She was very different from Giselle.

Alex studied both women for a moment.

Alex would have guessed that she was in her mid seventies. She was little rotund around the middle and her breasts were large and he could see the outline of her bra through the blue satin blouse she was wearing. The blouse itself seemed a little on the small side for the woman and things bulged in places you wouldn't expect them too. Her hair was once blond, maybe. He couldn't sure.

A funny thing he had observed about some older German women, that in later life, they tended to have their hair cut in a crew cut, making them look very masculine. He had even smiled to himself once when he was playing and thought a table of four, in front of him was three men and a woman. As turned out, it was two married couples.

Ulli had such a haircut. With her blue satin blouse, she wore black trousers, that didn't nothing but accentuate her large figure.

Giselle was slim and attractive. Her dress sense was elegant to say the least. She wore little make up. Just a little mascara to compliment out her sparkling hazel eyes. He could tell, by the way her dress fell, that she had nice sized breasts and as he followed to the table, he noticed how firm her legs and how tight her ass looked in the trousers she wore.

Giselle was proud that at almost seventy, she still had good legs and a tight ass. Not as tight as when she was young, but enough to keep the boys interested.

After about a half hour of small talk, Ulli announced that she was going home. She put her coat on and two ladies air-kissed each other on the cheeks, the way some women do.

Once Giselle saw that had left the restaurant and was walking down the street, she turned her attentions once more to Alex.

"Could I ask you a personal question?" she asked.

"Sure," he answered. "But I reserve the right not answer it."

"Are you married?"

"Not anymore," he replied. "Are you?"

"No, I am a widow," Giselle replied. "Have been for about 15 years now."

"I am divorced," said Alex. "About 10 years now."

"Who divorced who?" Giselle asked, wondering if she had overstepped the boundaries of what was appropriate conversation.

Alex breathed in deeply and exhaled.

"I filed, due to her adultery," he answered. "I'd been working on a cruise ship, for 6 months. I came home to an empty house. I thought it was odd as she usually always home. She knew I was coming home. I thought that maybe she was out shopping or something. I took my bags upstairs to unpack and was met with an awful sight."