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.
