Hilda Pt 01

HILDA. PART 1.

As this story wrote itself, over many of often stressed hours, it became clear that its length would far exceed the compactness of erotic stories that most Literotica readers seem to prefer. Neither did the nature of the story lend itself to be -- so rarely satisfactorily -- divided up into consecutively offered shorter chapters.

Being a humble writer at the mercy of my readers, I apologize for the threatening length of the two parts of my story.

I await -- still hopefully -- your marks of possible approval and comments.

It was a box Ben had not opened in years. And now it sat in the new, but with his old books filled study, next to the computer.

For this to come about had required a major shift in Ben's circumstances.

Thomas, his son, had finally convinced him to sell his much too large house, and to buy and move into a new 2-bedroom unit, close to where he lived. Somewhat easing the trauma was that Ben, although still reasonably fit and with it in his 80th year, could leave most of the shift to his son and two of his friends.

Thomas had also helped in the ordeal of clearing and decluttering the place in which Ben had lived for the last forty-two years.

In assigning most of the accumulated storage in the for the last thirty years unused darkroom to the rubbish, Thomas came across a dusty shoebox. Full of largely black-and-white photos, he thought that they could be of sentimental value for his dad. Therefore, he set the box aside.

Ben had been for years in the habit of transferring the interesting and good photos onto the computer and disks. He was, therefore, in no hurry to open this box, being sure that it contained only prints not worth saving.

But when he eventually opened the box, he got a surprise. Lying on top in protective plastic sleeves, were a dozen or so color film negative strips.

Ben shook his head in disbelief; he had totally forgotten that back in 1990, he had put these for him so interesting negatives, stupidly in the box with the long past rejects.

He remembered, of course, that he had printed and enlarged some of the naughtiest and best photographs he had taken of Hilda during the magic summer of 1990. He had given them to her as a farewell present and memento in the painful turmoil of Hilda returning to her home.

Some weeks after Hilda's return to Austria, he had searched for the negatives to print some of the best photos for his collection and to transfer the rest onto his computer. Not finding them, Ben eventually gave up on his search.

But now, after thirty-five years waiting, he could finally relish again the images from that magical summer now more than thirty years back, on his monitor's bright screen.

He immediately posted the negatives to be transcribed onto a digital disk by a local firm. He had it in his possession within days.

In viewing it with great enjoyment and creating a Hilda Album on his computer, Ben became aware that he ought to have photos of Hilda from a more distant past but unforgotten past. He eventually found two black-and-white photos of Hilda in his box of rejects.

It intrigued Ben, why he had not bothered to safe them earlier; not for their quality as photos, but the story that was hidden in them; even before their obsession with each other culminated in the summer 1990.

1960.

As a photo it was a poorly composed, boring, face-on shot of Hilda and him leaning against a railing.

In addition, Josef in taking the photo, must have been laughing and shaken the camera; probably about how his sister pressed her sexy little body onto the much taller Ben. So, what Ben looked at, was an unclear 10x8 cm print with the then fashionable serrated edges.

But what Ben now saw, was how close Hilda had clung to him, and the already knowing, mischievous smile on her pretty young face with which she had pressed one of her breasts -- its firm apple shape so sexily contoured in her dark dress -- onto his arm.

But his own sullen face, and how his hand lay so seemingly non-caring on her shoulder instead of holding her close, still gave his aging heart a painful jolt.

It had been an important, mixed-up day for them. Both he and Josef had received in the morning-mail their acceptance-notification as assisted migrants from the Australian consulate in Vienna. They were to leave, by boat from Trieste, in six weeks' time.

Ben had gone to see Josef. With his mother and Hilda - it was her day off -- they sat in their large, dark kitchen. He and Josef talked excitedly about the coming five weeks sea-journey, and their adventure-laden, they were sure, two year working-holiday in Australia. They would return with lots of money, saved from the high Australian wages which the Australian Immigration Department's prospectus had promised. Josef would buy, he grinned, a Fiat 1100, and take them, his mother and Hilda, for a holiday to Italy. Ben, if he wanted, could come along too

Ben, looking and smiling at Hilda, did not say what he would do with his savings.

Being momentarily embarrassed, Hilda suddenly murmured that she had news too:

"By the time you come back, I'll be married. Hans has proposed.... Look!"

She stretched out her hand to show off a mean little ring.

It must have been the first her mother had heard; she joined Ben and Josef in stunned silence. They knew, Hans was Hilda's, far too old for her boss.

But they still went outside to take several photos with Ben's - for their Australian adventure - recently bought camera. They were going to be mementos of this supposedly 'happy' day in their young lives.

Ben had kept none of them, except the shaky one with Hilda in his box of rejects.

As Josef had been his closest friend since early primary school, Ben and Hilda had grown up together. She was the eldest in their tribe; a year older than Ben and her two, a year-apart brothers.

Her mother had married very young. Aged twenty-two in1945, she was a war widow with three children under five. Due to the acute housing shortage, they were still living in the two rooms in the no longer used annex of a hotel which they had rented at her marriage in 1940.

Ben, off course, had always known her as the 'old' mother of his childhood friends. He wondered what he would see now, if he had kept a photo of her. Would he see what a succession of men saw in and relished with her in their assigned bedroom which for Ben - and often her three children - was strictly off limits. When it happened, they slept on mattresses on the floor of the kitchen/living/all purpose-room, in which Ben also romped about in their play, when there was the rain or winter outside.

In such play, Hilda and Ben always paired of. They liked each other. But while they were children, the reason for Hilda may have been that it saved her from taking sides in the almost perpetual fighting between the two brothers. They appeared to hate each other the way only siblings can.

When they left school -- Hilda a year earlier than Ben and Josef -- she took up a live-in apprenticeship in a restaurant in a neighboring town. Ben started an apprenticeship as a cabinet maker and in the years between fourteen and their late teens they rarely met.

When Hilda returned home to work in a local cafe, their old friendship appeared to have been naturally renewed. Or was it that?

Ben was now a tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired young man that -- had he only known - many young girls, and not so young women, found attractive. And Hilda, with her pretty face and lively spirit made up for what she lacked in height with an exquisitely proportioned, stunningly sexy figure.

As a waitress, the male patrons had not left Hilda unaware of her sex appeal. However, as she complained with a laugh, the elderly owners of the restaurant under whom she served her apprenticeship, had guarded her as if she was their daughter.

I was unavoidable. However much he thought it was wrong and ridiculous, Ben fell head over heels in love with his childhood playmate. It took him three weeks till he gathered his courage to ask her if, on her day off, she would go with him to the pictures.

Hilda happily said Yes.

To his regrets it was a film he would never have gone to see; an Austrian -country comedy with silly songs and aging, superannuated Viennese comics, that made him wince in embarrassment.

But once in their seats and the lights down, Hilda seemed to unreservedly enjoy the silly film. As she laughed, her thighs twitched against his as she bent into him in her mirth. When she did it again, he slipped his arm -- careful that the people behind would not see -- across her back.

His hand closed shyly, barely daring, over Hilda's firm, shapely breast. And she did not pull away. Putting her hands over his as it cupped her breast, she leaned in closer. And then, she raised her face and quickly kissed him.

They walked home, shyly holding hands. But as he tried to kiss her Good By at the entrance of her unlit building, Hilda pulled him into the dark corridor leading to their rooms. And there, as they sunk into a magic spell of long, less and less child-like kisses, Hilda took his hand and pressed and rubbed it over both her breasts until Ben felt, under her light summer dress, the hardening nub of her nipples.

From then on, Ben thought they were lovers; that she was his and he hers. In the small town they lived, there was little choice in where they could go. So, on her day off, they went to the pictures, watching the films less and less as his hand -- often under a by her loose left blouse -- caressed Hilda's sexy breast into turmoil.

Already in the third week of their cinema affair, with their thighs rubbing against each other, Hilda slid in mounting excitement her hand up his thigh to touch, ever so lightly, Ben's growing erection. After the film, on their favorite bench in a dark nook behind bushes, she took hold of his cock through his trousers while she kissed him -- had he only known - with a promising-all and encouraging him abandon.

But Ben, having been properly brought up, and Hilda being a childhood friend and Josef's sister, was too respectfully decent -- too shy - to respond to her lead. During the following month, only once in the pictures, did Ben move his hand up Hilda's invitingly spreading thighs, only to stop centimeters from her excitedly waiting pussy.

Two weeks before the day the farewell photos were taken, Ben had arrived to pick Hilda up for their usual cinema visit. He knocked on the door; hearing a sound he entered. Not only was Hilda alone in the room, but she stood there, barefoot, in her bra and panties.

"I was just going to get dressed." she lied, mischievously smiling.

Instead of trying to cover up, she spread her arms. Offering Ben a long look, she asked:

"Do you like, seeing me like this, Ben?... Should I get dressed now or are we staying home tonight?... The boys have gone out,... Mum is on her evening shift. We'd be alone for hours."

Not waiting for an unwanted answer, Hilda sidled up to Ben and slung her arms around his hips. Being much too short to kiss him standing up, she led him -- no danced him -- to their large, well-worn couch in the corner of the room. As he sat down, Hilda pushed him back and threw herself down next to him.

It was a warm, late-summer evening and Ben was lightly dressed. In wriggling up his body to kiss him, Hilda slid her hand under his shirt. With their lips barely touching, she whispered:

"I have wanted to do that to you too; for a long time in the pictures!"

As her nimble fingers closed in to pinch one of his nipples, she murmured sexily, "There must be things that you wanted to do with me, too?... And never did!... Why not now?"

Not waiting for an answer, Hilda's tongue circled his lips before it pushed deep into Ben's mouth to join his in a lengthy, shamelessly sinuous dance.

It made up her mind. When they finally, out of breath stopped their kissing, Hilda knelt up. Smiling down at him, with her wet-gleaming, sensuously swollen lips parted and her knee pressing into Ben's rebellious crotch, she slowly unhooked her bra. She pressed it for a teasing-long moment over her orbs, before she let it drop on Ben's face.

Having blinded him, she bent her lush breasts in onto his mouth. As wanted, it closed with a moan over one of her, so far, neither seen nor kissed, luscious pink berry nipples. Over the next long minutes, Hilda twisted in ever heightening lust as Ben, besides himself in mounting excitement, made love to her beautifully firm, apple-shaped tits and their aroused nipples.

But then, with her hands on the elastic band of his summery shorts, Hilda began sliding down Ben's body. And as her lust-panting, hungry mouth closed over Ben's nipple, his hands, slipped for the first time ever into her panties to touch and feel her in lust twitching behind.

With Hilda moaning a "Yes Ben! Yes!" he lost control. Gripping her buttocks he pressed her hotly pulsating -- and so more-ready cunt had he only known - against his, in his thin pants, uncontrollably rearing up cock.

And he exploded; could not stop the storm of his climaxing and filling his pants with the flush of his seeds, and even streak and soil Hilda and the sofa.

It stopped them both in shock. They were too young and inexperienced to accept this accident as a not unusual part of having sex; to just laugh it off and continue their play.

Instead, with both embarrassed, Hilda fetched a towel, and they frantically cleaned up. But when Ben soon after - believing he had failed her -- left, Hilda's farewell kiss tried to tell him that she hoped for another opportunity like today.

But then, two weeks later, Hilda dropped the bombshell of her engagement with Hans, her boss in the cafe she worked. It cut Ben to the bone to suddenly learn, that for most if not all the time he had believed he and Hilda were lovers, Hans, a twenty year older -- in his opinion despicable ugly man -- was already fucking her.

And Hilda had been and, it seemed, was as ever, still prepared to make love to him too. Ben could not, did not want to understand it; he hurt.

Trying very hard to think of Hilda as nothing more than a promiscuous slut like her mother, he avoided seeing or talking to her in the weeks before he and Josef left for Australia.

1975.

The second photo of Hilda which Ben had put aside showed her sitting at a table, somewhat quizzically smiling at the lens. In leaning forward, her dirndl revealed a generous show of well-formed round boobs. The shot had been taken in the evening, in a beer garden, with a crowd standing behind her, many with either a beer mug or glass in their hand.

The shot was interestingly composed and the images clear; well worth enlarging. Or especially, to be saved as a record of a very special night.

Ben shook his head. He could not remember what must have made him -- in a painful moment, most likely -- put the photo deep down under the rejects.

*****

Neither Ben nor Josef returned home from their two-year working holiday.

Except for a few, spaced out back-visits, both established reasonably successful lives in Australia: Josef, eventually as the owner of a small business, and Ben -- by studying and going to university in Melbourne - as a teacher and academic.

It was his career that brought Ben in 1975 for a year's study-leave back to Germany and Austria. Based at the university in Munich, he visited, of course, his hometown and relatives, as well as Josef's mother. She had moved, and in giving Ben her new address, Josef had included Hilda's. She lived now with her husband and son in a town in Tirol.

Ben had no intention to visit her.

Fate interfered. Invited to a symposium at the university in Innsbruck, Ben left Munich on Saturday morning. He intended to use the drive to Innsbruck as well as Sunday to take in the sights of parts of Tirol he had never visited. He knew that on crossing the border into Austria, he would drive through the town Hilda now lived in. He had no idea, that he would quickly learn where she actually lived.

Hilda's mother had told him that Hans, Hilda's husband, had taken a job in his hometown as the caretaker/manager of the voluntary brigades' fire station. The address she gave Ben, was, 'Flat 1, Municipal Fire Station, K....'.

And there it was, in front of his car.

In sudden surprise, Ben pulled up opposite the two big open doors which showed off the town's two gleaming fire engines. He must have sat in his car and mulled for ten minutes. Should he or should he not, unannounced after fifteen years, knock on Hilda's door.

But then, thinking that Hilda would know from her mother that he was in the country, and how cross she would be if she knew he had avoided seeing her while in town, he crossed the road. Finding the Fire Station's back entrance, he walked up the stairs to Flat 1 and rang the bell.

Hilda opened the door. She looked up, recognized him, and gasped:

"Ben! Ben, God I'm glad,... Mum told me you are here!... I didn't think you would come to see me!"

Ben was amazed how little Hilda had changed. All he noticed were a few additional laugh wrinkles in the corners of her eyes. And when she embraced him and he -- in a burst of spontaneous affection - lifted her up, the body wriggling against his was as light and as disturbingly shapely, as he had tried to forget.

Eventually, sitting together around the kitchen table over a cup of coffee, they talked about what had happened to them and their respective life's.

Hilda, gripping Ben's hands, listened spellbound as he told her about his and Josef's experiences and life in Australia. He said nothing about why they had not returned. Especially, that he had felt there was nothing to return to for him, after their compulsory two years of work in Australia.

When it was her turn to tell, her eyes hung no longer animated on his face. Still holding his hands, she was looking down on them. Her voice flat, Hilda explained that Hans had secured his present position now ten years ago. It had made them secure and well off.

Hilda shrugged her shoulders, "I have been so much luckier than my mother. Hans is a good husband," looking up she tried to smile at Ben - was it a smirk or a grimace -- and added, "... For all his faults."

Suddenly much brighter, she told him they had a son, Max; he was twelve, a bright, lovely boy; he is, unfortunately, away today on a camp with the scouts.

When Ben explained to Hilda that he had dropped in on her while he was on his way to Innsbruck, and that he had to leave, she was disappointed.

Hilda got up, turning away. But then, she stepped up to him so close that he was tempted to pull her onto his lap. But his hands stopped, resting unrejected on her hips.

"I had so hoped you would stay, at least overnight." she pleaded:

"You could have been my beau tonight, at a Fire Brigade function, and taken me home!... Hans, always spends all his time with his fire-fighter mates.... He gets drunk and I must get him home.... Tonight, we could have left it to his friends!

"Why can't you stay, Ben, and leave tomorrow?... I'll fix up Maxi's bed for you.... I'm sure, Hans won't mind if you take care of me tonight."

Intrigued by how Hilda had spoken about her marriage and tempted by her wish that he'd stay overnight, Ben accepted the invitation. He awaited, however, with some interest, how Hans would react to his wife having invited an unexpected guest. And if he knew or suspected their past, certainly an undesired one.

When Hans came up from his office for the evening meal, he greeted him without a great show of surprise or interest.

Hans had aged badly. He had put on weight and acquired a paunch. His hair had thinned out to a few colorless whisks and his face appeared unhealthily bloated. And his eyes were the eyes of a drunk, searching for focus.