"I don't understand. If it's an environmental protection club, why are they talking about going stag hunting in those getups?"
Erika had returned, laden down with empty beer steins, to the bar running across the back of the Hofbräuhaus beer hall below the university precincts and the sprawling ridge-top castle in Heidelberg. She was near the end of her shift and looking and feeling quite frazzled. Strands of hair were loose from the bun at the back of her head, her eyeglasses were smudged to the point that she could hardly see out of them, and none of the young university men she was serving could see her normally captivating bronze-speckled green eyes.
To add to her general aspect of dishabille, the hem of her silly German peasant barmaid dress had been torn out at one side, making it look like she was listing to one side when she walked. She had the sinking feeling that her lipstick had been smeared up toward one ear, but she was too busy slinging beer steins to check herself out in the mirror.
In any case, none of the hunky young men in the medievalist club who she'd been shipping beer to were noticing her. Not like they were noticing flirty buxom blonde Sigrid who she'd posed this question to as Sigrid was about to deliver another round of beer to the boisterous table with the men in the medieval German courtier costumes.
"They are combining their interests," Sigrid answered. "They are a historical reenactment group, but to get more financial support through the university, they have declared as an environmental support group too. And animal rights. They say they are taking themselves back to fifteenth-century Germany when people were close to and accommodating to the earth and there was little waste."
"And the university bought that claptrap?" Erika asked, rolling her eyes at the notion that fifteenth-century Germans were environmentalists. If they'd had plastic bags then, Erika was sure the Germans of the time would dump them in landfills.
"Apparently so. They aren't going to actually shoot the deer they hunt tomorrow. They are going to use paint balls and take photos to score the hunt. But why so sour, Erika? If you would loosen up and smile as you served them, you'd get more notice. You're always complaining that you can't get laid."
"Can't get laid well, is what I say," Erika answered in a tired voice. "I'm tired of the beer-gut, middle-aged auto mechanics hitting on me in here."
"Well, most of those young men are real hunks. And I know for a fact that they all come from rich families. Some are even nobility. Like that blond German god in the middle of them—the tall, strapping one. I heard him being called Graf Friedrich Von Salm. A count. That still counts for something in Heidelberg."
"You just came on duty, Sigrid. After you've been on your feet for six hours in this mad house, I'd like to see you smile and be flirty too. And, funny, I heard the blond hunk being called Freddie."
"Well, of course they'd do that among themselves. You have to admit that he's divine, though."
"Yes, I'll have to admit that."
"And the dark one. The one they call Lutz. I have my hat set for him."
"Uh, why not the blond god, Count Friedrich Whatever? The way you flirt, you can have any of them that you want. In fact, I'd be surprised if you haven't had the measure of every cock at the university."
"You're just jealous, Erika. I'm skittish about the blond hunk. He's talking all sorts of weird things about the Hallsbroeck Forest they're going to tomorrow to do their paint-ball hunting—how it's enchanted and all. How his family, which once owned the forest, had its own enchantress wood nymph. Even had her named. Egerie was her name, he said. How they must be careful when they hunt and not harm the Knospe—the wood nymphs of the forest. I can't tell if he's playing the part or a little nuts."
"Probably a bit of both," Erika answered.
"Well, he certainly looks the part. I bet those guys picked the fifteenth century just because they all have such great legs and wanted to wear those form-fitting tights."
"The bulging codpieces suit them well too," Erika answered. Cracking the first smile for hours.
"See, you're as interested in hooking up with one of them as I am. And I think it's about time to do just that—for me at least."
Sigrid waltzed off toward the table of medievalists and Erika became busy filling up the eight steins she would deliver in one trip, four steins per hand, to another section of the beer hall. When she was able to look at the university men's table again, she saw Sigrid leading the dark hunk she'd called Lutz away toward the back of the hall.
Not long afterward, Erika had to go back into the storeroom area to retrieve more clean steins. She heard them, Sigrid's gasps and sighs and Lutz' grunts and groans, before she saw them, back in a dimly lit corner. The back of Sigrid's peasant skirt was bunched up around her waist. Lutz was holding her close from behind, facing away from him. From the angle Erika was viewing the tableau, he appeared to be fully dressed in his medieval costume except that the material of his codpiece was flapping between his legs.
He had one arm wrapped around Sigrid's waist, holding her buttocks into his groin. His other hand was busy squeezing the ample breasts that had burst out of the bodice of her frilly barmaid blouse. His face was buried in the hollow of Sigrid's neck, and his hips were moving rhythmically in a manner that made quite clear that he was deep inside Sigrid. The way she was thrusting her buttocks back at him indicated that Sigrid was happy to have him inside her.
Erika turned in anger and disgust, grabbed a tray of clean steins, not caring how much clatter she caused, and flounced back out into the noisy beer hall. Her disgust was more that Sigrid always managed to get the men than that she'd caught Sigrid being fucked by a handsome young stud. Sigrid was getting what Erika would like to have.
She was doubly busy for the next twenty minutes because Sigrid wasn't there to hold up her end of the service. And slowly Erika's disgust and irritation did turn on Sigrid. So that when Sigrid returned to the line of duty, all aglow and bubbly, Erika snapped at her more than once.
Sigrid got the point, but she didn't back down. "If you weren't such a sourpuss and paid more attention to your grooming, you'd have a little fun too."
"I've had a tough night. And I can get any of these men I want," Erika snapped back, showing more bravado then likelihood.
"Really?" Sigrid said sweetly.
"Really," Erika responded emphatically.
"Then bring me the condom the Graf Friedrich Van Salm uses when he fucks you," Sigrid spat out. She gave Erika a nasty smile and spun away with another round of beers for the men of the Heidelberg University Medievalist and Environmentalist Club.
