Thomas felt as if he had been struck by lightning even before he was sure the woman in front of him was Margarete. Suddenly, he had forgotten why he was walking along the Kurfuerstendamm, where he was going, what came next in his busy day. The young woman walking in front of him in her stewardess uniform looked like she was in her late twenties. She was a little shorter than Thomas, not quite as slim as he remembered her. If anything, however, her figure was even more attractive than he remembered it. They’d grown up together in Wilmersdorf, went to the same school. When he was 16 and she 15, he had seduced her for the first time, deflowered her in her parents’ apartment. They had played hookey when she knew her parents would not be back until evening. He had loved her in her own bed.

Thomas himself had experienced his first time with a woman only a few months earlier when Anna, a pretty medical student eight years his senior had had an affair with him that lasted all summer. Young, strong and horny, Anna had taught Thomas the art of love and Thomas had passed his new knowledge on to the girl he had loved since he first saw her when she was 12 and he 13. So wonderful it had been that day in Margarete’s bed, so free of fear and guilt. She had briefly disappeared, then called from her bedroom.

When Thomas entered he had found her naked on her bed. In a minute, the young man had undressed, lay beside her – and she reached for his phallus as she had done once or twice before in dark, quiet corners of the nearby Stadtpark. Lying on her bed with him, she had looked at his penis between kisses, had stroked him to full erection. “You look like a real man,” she had said. And then he had loved her, taken her fully and she had been able to orgasm — twice. Thomas, having learned to hold himself under control, had finally been unable to wait any longer. He had withdrawn from Margarete’s vagina and spilled his seed onto her stomach while she watched.

They had kissed a long time after that, and fallen asleep. And Margarete had not become pregnant. Their passion plays had continued right through their university years. They were wild for each other and loved each other with equal fervor When he was 22, Thomas’s parents had arranged for him to go to America to perfect his second language, English, and start a career as a professional. After a few years in the U.S., Thomas had decided to stay and become an American. And he had pleaded, begged and begged Margarete to cross the Atlantic  and be his wife. Margarete was a flirt and a tease, Thomas knew. But she loved him, told him so over and over in her letters, phone calls and when he came home for visits. When he left again, her good looks and magnetic charm gained her admirers wherever she went. And she had continued to stall. First she wanted to go to England to be an au per for six months, then for another six with a different family. Then she said she’d also want to learn French by staying with a family in Paris. Thomas felt she was playing games with him to show that she and only she would be in charge of their relationship. Eventually, he gave her an ultimatum, only to receive an endless letter explaining why he should wait a little longer.


But by now Thomas’s heart was broken. He had given up. He was angry and hurt. In time, he fell in love with a young nurse friends introduced him to. And when they became engaged to be married, Thomas sent the newspaper notice to Margarete. It was truly over. And now, two months after the newspaper notice, Thomas was in Berlin, walking behind the unsuspecting Margarete – and realized he had never felt such an acute heart ache in his life. They had arrived at an intersection and waited for the pedestrian light to turn green. That’s when Thomas stepped behind Margarete and covered her eyes with his hands. Margarete turned rigid. She had smelled his cologne. “Tho … Thomas??” she said. “You… are.. in..B…” The young woman turned, threw her arms around Thomas and burst into tears. Minutes later, they sat at a sidewalk table of Café Kranzler, ordered coffee and torte, and were still in shock. Margarete was still in shock. “Oh Thomas!” she said.

“You have no idea what you have done! That notice you sent me made my world collapse. I have always loved you and only wish I didn’t love you so much. Of course I was going to be your wife. I just needed more time to enjoy my life as a single a little more. We had lots of time later for marriage, children, home. Why didn’t you understand that? Why didn’t you understand me?” Margarete said she was dating a pilot right now, started to cry again. “I wish I didn’t love you so much,” she repeated. This time Thomas believed her, told her he had never stopped loving her either. And suddenly he knew this encounter was going to end very, very sad and there was nothing, nothing, they could do about that.


Margarete was home on a lay-over and stayed with her mother in Wilmersdorf. Would she spend the night with Thomas, who had a room at The Kempinski up the street? “Yes yes yes! Of course I will,” Margarete whispered through her tears. Thomas gave her his room key, would later tell the concierge he had left it in the room and needed assistance. And now they both knew tonight would be the last time they’d be together – the last time they would love each other. Thomas was so moved by his unexpected encounter with Margarete that he could not continue with his plans for the day. He returned to his hotel, got the reception to help him back into his room and lay down to rest and think.

He was in an emotional uproar. Why had he even bothered making himself known to Margarete just then? What insanity! This would only open a horrible old wound that had taken so long to heal in his heart. Oh how he had cried over Margarete! How he had let this pain gnaw into his heart and mind. And how long it had taken him to get over her. One hour ago, Thomas had been over her! Now he had seen her again and he was bleeding again, just as he had bled before. The worst thing was that Margarete was bleeding also. The whole thing was beyond belief! They had been lovers. They had had carnal knowledge of each other in their mid-teens for Heaven’s sake! They had soared to the heavens together, seen each other’s faces, kissed in orgasm.


They had experienced things that would surely weld them together for life! And now he knew, it was not to be – but Margarete would come to him one more time. Then they would never see each other again. Tears began to run down Thomas’s cheeks. Perhaps he should just send her away and spare her and him the pain of the morning. “Are you out of your mind??” screamed the inner voice. “This night could be the happiest you will ever experience! If you throw it away, the thoughts of what could have been will haunt you to your dying day!” How true, thought Thomas —. Here they were, on the cusp of going their own ways. He was engaged to Gail. The wedding date had been set. Margarete was dating her airline pilot. Two or three weeks hence all this wouldn’t be possible even if they’d wanted it! Suddenly it seemed to Thomas as if fate had guided them to each other – today! In this city! In this street, Kurfuerstendamm! – to allow them to say one last Goodbye to each other and then. . . and then: And then just stop, for Christ’s sake! Thomas knew this night would tear him to pieces, and he knew there was NOTHING he could do about that. Oh God, he was still so hot for her! Just looking at her out there, seeing her bulging breasts under her uniform jacket made him wild!

He remembered how well endowed she had been lo these 11 years ago when they first. . .when he opened her blouse and bra for the first time to see and kiss her nipples. How she had driven him insane with desire before she had finally, finally allowed him to touch her “below the belt” for the first time. And it had been so good for both of them when IT finally happened.

Their lust had been like a symphony audible in Heaven above —. Thomas must have drifted off to sleep, for the next thing he knew was Margarete standing beside the couch he had laid down on. She had let herself in, carried her little overnight case with toiletries, was in civvies now and more gorgeous than it was decent to be. A look of gladness was on her face. She’d been able to hide all the sadness. Oh God! And Herbert was sadder than sad! How was this going to work? And then there was this voice from the past – his past – and it said so cheerfully: “Have you had anything to eat? Should we order a meal through Room Service?” Yes, they would order food. Herbert rose from the couch, stood very close to Margarete now. And she was suddenly very serious. “Herbert,” she said softly, “Herbert: Please kiss me! Please!!” He took her in his arms, bent down and did just that: kiss her. Long and deep – passionately, feeling her tongue with his again,  pressing her to him.

Margarete trembled as  he held her and he pressed her a little firmer to himself. When they broke, she breathed heavily. “First time I ever, EVER, had an orgasm from a kiss. I’m all wet down there now – and it’s all YOUR fault. You shouldn’t kiss a girl like that – ‘specially when she’s THIS hungry for you!” It was only 7 o’clock by the time they had eaten, but they could not wait to go to bed with each other. They both knew they had not come to this room to make smalltalk. They were here to be reunited one last time in their lives. They would feel each other, lie skin to skin as never before – and never again. Sure, they would talk, say perhaps the most important things they had ever said to each other – but naked, in each others’ arms, during the loving. And they knew that the next few hours would shake them to their core. The last two or three had  done that already.


Slowly, almost methodically, they had undressed in front of each other, aware that they were going to do what any married couple did regularly: Quench their thirst, drink their fill of each other’s love, each other’s lust, each other’s passion. Thomas had decided this would be the wedding night they would never know as the beginning of a lifetime together. Only this night was going to be not the beginning but the end of their life together. And this night, for Thomas, was far more meaningful through giving than to taking. Margarete felt exactly the same. They had known each other for so long – it would not be necessary to speak, to express in words what they wanted. And yet: Their eyes spoke to each other. And their eyes said Love.

Their eyes said, I am geil for you. It was a German word they had known from their mid-teens when they had explored each other’s bodies. When Thomas had lied to her when she asked where he had learned how to make love so skillfully. He had not said a word about Anna and the wild loving he had experienced with her. Instead, he had shown Margarete how to handle him, had shown her how he could make her body scream with lust. She was so very young at the time, and yet, he had been able to awaken her to all the pleasure, all the sexual ecstasy most women don’t know until they are in their early twenties. Now Margarete lay in front of him, fully revealed in her wonderful naked young womanhood, looking up at him as he approached the bed from the shower, already fully aroused and ready to enjoy her body and let her enjoy his. Once again as he saw her lying in front of him, Thomas remembered their teens. When she first kissed him back, then became bolder as he led her – how tenderly she had caressed him. It had always been her tongue, her eyes that were so incredible. He had loved kissing her because of the way her tongue welcomed his in her mouth and thrust back into his. And, oohh, when he had persuaded her to kiss his penis! She had taken the head into her mouth, bathed it, caressed it with her tongue. She had learned to lose all her modesty. He showed her everything – how to massage him just the right way when he withdrew from her pussy because his crisis was about to overwhelm him, cupping her hand and spilling his sperm into it, allow him to lie between her thighs and watch him kiss her pussy and bring her to orgasm.

Step by step, they had discovered the joy of sex together and eventually were totally familiar and at ease with one-another. Now, years later, Thomas lay beside Margarete in this unlikely hotel room, kissing her passionately, sucking her pink nipples as he had done so many times in the past, as he had thought he would never do again. And suddenly the young woman he still loved so much lay under him, looked lovingly into his eyes and whispered: “Darling, make love to me. Please! Please! Make love to me!

You’re driving me out of my mind!” Before they both knew it, they were in a vortex of lovemaking, made love to each other. Thomas could not tear himself from her kiss, slid his penis into her hot wetness, filling her completely. She closed her inner muscles around his member, held him, felt him move deep inside her. Their kiss was desperate now, deep – soul to soul as it had been so often in the past. They were truly one flesh. And Thomas tried to make it last. He felt the growing arousal in Margaret, sensed that she was approaching her second orgasm, thrust harder into her, deeper, faster. Margaret’s moans had changed to panting. She was racing to her completion. Suddenly she reared up under him, went rigid, cried out in ecstasy. Her orgasm overtook her, shook her for what seemed an eternity, leaving her panting, limp, sweating and exhausted. “Ooohhh Thomas,” she caught her breath. “You can do that to me as many times as you feel like.


Until you make me lose consciousness. I can never get enough of you this way.” With Margarete’s hunger sated for the time being, Thomas longed to go back to the past. “Do you remember what we used to do when we were in school?” he said. “When your parents were not at home? I used to make you climax in a certain way. . . ? Do you want to do it again?” Instantly, Margarete remembered. “I had almost forgotten! Yes, yes, let’s do it again!” She sat up in the Schneidersitz position, Thomas in front of her. It was his favorite position to watch her during orgasm. Now she sat there as she had when she was 16, and he started to caress her inner thighs, slowly, tenderly, carefully, working his hands closer and closer to her vagina.

Their game had always involved looking straight into each other’s eyes and Margarete remembered every detail, and all the feelings she used to experience during that game. Slowly, Thomas’s fingers now entered between her labia, stroking tenderly in and out, up and down. Margaret’s juices were flowing copiously now. Thomas watched her face. Her eyes were on his and there was nothing but love between them – the sex was just incidental to what was going on in their hearts. Thomas’s other hand now touched her clitoris. In the game of yesteryear, he would stroke it, then pinch it gently, bend it left and right, then flick his finger tip across it as fast as possible. Now, as then, Margarete’s head sank backwards. Her mouth was slightly open, she was unable to keep her eyes open. She was panting.

“Ooohhh Thomas!! Thomas! Thomas! Don’t stop. Don’t stop. This is — AAAAHHHH!!! I THINK I’M ABOUT TO. . . C….OOOHHH!  . . . COME!! I’M COMING I’M COMING . . .N..N..NOW!!! OOOHHH!! WATCH ME NOW!!  I’M YOUR LITTLE GIRL AGAIN!! And Thomas saw her again as he had seen her in her breathless beauty so many years before. How her mouth made him wild as she bit her lower lip! How her face looked as if she was about to faint. She had completely opened herself to him, was totally vulnerable now, giving herself up so he could enjoy her while he gave  her pleasure. And as he caressed her clitoris with one hand and thrust tenderly and deep into her with the other, he felt her convulse in the paroxysm of her orgasm. Margarete had known since early on in their relationship just how visual Thomas was and had come to love that quality in him. To know that this man who was penetrating her just now was also watching her while he did it made her own pleasure so intense she could hardly stand it. Oh, how she loved him, wanted to give herself to him so completely! The naked young woman sat there, whimpering her lust into the room, almost unable to support herself with her arms and hands, drowning in this orgasm that would not end. But then it was over, for now. Margarete was totally sated – totally exhausted – totally happy.


Smiling from one ear to the other, she let herself sink into the pillows sideways, still breathing heavily. Thomas lay beside her again now, pulled her into his arms. Margarete cuddled close to him, slept briefly. Then they were dying to make love again – and this time they did something they had never been able to do before because they had never been in one bed together with an entire night before them. Thomas asked her to lie on her knees and let him take her from behind. Trembling, panting, Margarete did as he asked. Now he could hold her breasts, squeeze her nipples, stroke her clitoris while he took her. And this time he did not hold back but rutted with her hard, hard, fast fast, holding her by her hips as his own orgasm approached. And then he was there, crossing the point when he knew he was about to come!

Rigidly he knelt behind this wonderful woman who was on the verge also. And then they screamed their lust together, convulsed as their mutual orgasm shook them to the core of their being, Thomas upright and rigid and Margarete with her backbone bent through. In four mighty spurts Thomas’s seed spurted into Margarete. She felt the impact of his sperm in the back of her vagina and convulsed  slightly. They collapsed on top of each other.

All night long they had loved each other – to the limit of  the strength of their young bodies. Time and again they were one with each other – sometimes joyful, always passionate, sometimes desperate, once unspeakably sad, even crying as they held onto each other. Now they were sated as they had never been sated before. They had seen each other  thrashing, whimpering in the throes of their lust, in Margarete’s case almost to the point of madness, over and over, as Thomas brought her to orgasm after orgasm. Toward morning, Thomas took her one last time, experienced his own explosion deep within her body as she urged him on to let it happen and joined him as he came. They had thrilled to their union. It had been the first time they had tasted truly mature passion. This night had been so intense they had almost become each other in every respect, not just sexually. Nobody could ever have separated them again had this  happened to them a few years earlier.

Only it hadn’t. This had been more than  enough for one night of passion and they would never forget it as long as they lived. Enough for one night, yes – but far too little for the lifetime it would have to last them. Daybreak found them in each other’s arms and weak as babies. And now the sadness was upon them. The next night would come, Thomas thought, and one by one, the stars would all go out and there would be nothing but darkness. It would take him forever to heal his broken heart and he asked himself if there was any point in wanting to heal in the first place. And then all was quiet, and this Good bye was going to have to last them to the end of time. Thomas wished the end of time was right now. They were on their way to Frankfurt.

Margarete had switched with a girlfriend to be the stewardess on Thomas’s flight. As she served him a Piccolo, she bent and briefly looked out of the window with him. Both had the same thought, and expressed it: “I’d wish this plane could crash right now…” She looked at him, and her voice was almost a tad reproachful. “…and I was going to have babies with you!” she said, turning away almost angry. And then he was alone, so very, very alone, and her last words would ring in his ears until the day he died. She had put her hands on his cheeks, kissed his lips, looked into his  eyes and through her tears she said: “I am going to miss you so much, Darling.”


© Nimrod