The Thing with Uncle Frieder and Anni

From then on, everything went differently than I expected. I was surprised that my mother always made the crib clean and neat, although I slept with her again. She noticed my my questioning look and murmured that it was in case visitors came. I did not ask what visitors could come to us and we left it at that. Although she didn't seem to be angry anymore that we had fucked properly, it went on as before, as if nothing had changed. Or at least not in the way I had thought, namely that we would fuck every night now, as a matter of course. No, it didn't turn out that way. She remained completely passive and I had to conquer her again and again when I needed it.

I turned around so that I was between her thighs and palpated her body, stroking her breast and feeling for her cunt. Desirously I looked at her cunt, from which the clit barely peeked out. I knew how stiff and hard it could get, so I stroked it as she would have done it, although it seemed mostly for a brief moment as if she wanted to resist. I touched the clit as gently as I could, stroking it lightly until it grew a bit and became hard; soon it stuck out dark red and as big as half a little finger phalanx. It took quite a long time after that for her to relax and spread her thighs willingly so that I could better reach the clit, but at that time I still had to learn how to do it right and stopped after some time with the stimulation.

But somehow it was already right so, this stimulating. Because now I could crawl again on her belly and knead her nipples until she mewed with pleasure like a cat and the thighs spread very wide. Now it was as clear as daylight that I was allowed to put it in and fuck her so often until it was no longer possible. At the beginning, when I was still thinking about pulling out, she smiled and said that she was already too old to get pregnant and whispered that I was allowed to squirt in. At the same time she stroked my hair tenderly and said what a good boy I was. And how good it did her when I fucked her two or three times a night to orgasm. She kept saying "fuck", because in her opinion that was not a bad word. In the beginning, on many a Sunday, we stayed in bed all day and fucked as often as we could.

And so they lived happily ever after. So or so similarly the story should end now. But it doesn't end like that, not our story. Only fairy tales end like that.

Shortly before my 16th birthday, two things happened: first the one with with Uncle Frieder and then that with Anni, but now one after the other.

Even in the seclusion of our small village, I couldn't help noticing how often and regularly my mother drove to the city. One late evening, when she returned home, I was waiting for her under the front door and gave free rein to my sadness and jealousy; she had not just gone to Uncle Frieder's, but there was more! When she said nothing, I followed up with a bile–bitter voice that she was his mistress.

Mother looked at me with a horrified look, then she rushed past me without a word and immediately closed the living room door. Defiantly I waited outside, hoping she would come out and set everything right, because I must be mistaken, it could not be true! But no matter how long I waited, she did not come, and I heard her crying softly in the room. My bitterness vanished instantly and I quietly scurried in to her. I immediately became very sad because she was lying on the bed sobbing as if she had been cast down. I crawled to her and hugged her, whispering over and over that I didn't mean it and more along those lines.

After a while she stopped crying, sniffled a few more times, and then said very softly that it was true after all and that she was very ashamed of it, to him and to me. I was struck by the blow and kept silent for a long time, then I buried my face sadly against her breast. It could not be true! She stroked my hair and whispered that she wanted to tell me everything now, the whole truth. She blushed and started to confess.

Silently and haltingly she told me that after grandfather's death she had been left completely penniless. Within a few weeks she was faced with the ruins of her previous existence. She trusted some of her grandfather's friends who pretended to want to help. But she mostly found out only in the course of time that they wanted nothing else than to fuck the deceased friend's wife. She always broke away from these fake boyfriends when they stayed for a few nights, without seriously thinking about a responsible relationship, because she was not the kind of woman who let herself be fucked by everyone. In any case, Uncle Frieder was the only one who made a serious effort for her; but unfortunately he was still married and his intention to divorce was sincere, but proved to be protracted, because his wife was terminally ill and clung to him.

She made a small pause, and there I asked her with a depressed face, whether she had fucked with all. She looked a little embarrassed and whispered "no, not with all!" But I asked and drilled stubbornly further, and then she admitted that she had done it with all who were courting her at the time. There were about 150 or more, she said, blushing. I kept silent, depressed, because I had always watched them fuck when I was a small child. I watched them fuck through the crack in the door which I had secretly opened a bit when she had taken me to the children's room. Mostly, though, I lay naked in their bed and they always waited until I was asleep. I watched them fuck at close range without her ever noticing.

The little genius had moved to the end of the bed "in his sleep", from where I could secretly look directly into her open vagina. Mother slapped a hand over her mouth as I told how excited I was when the stiff cock entered her hole, drove in and out a few times, and the guy thrust wildly and squirted inside. I watched the fucking and the squirting up close without her ever noticing. She blushed like a virgin when I described in great detail and quite piggy words what the little genius could observe then. She continued: of course she noticed my stiff cock, she was staring during being fucked at the little cock as it slowly became stiff and the little sleeping boy stroked it in his sleep. After the man had gone, she pulled her sleeping child onto her naked lap and stroked the little cock until it was quite soft again. Infinitely gently, she rubbed the foreskin over the glans with her fingertips up and down until little translucent droplets signaled the end and the little penis softened. I always fell deeply asleep during her soft and tender stroking, dreaming beautiful erotic snatches of her fucking. She held her breath as the squirting sputtered slowly over months. I emerged from sleep for a fraction of a second when I squirted, she said, but instantly fell asleep again. She told me now, haltingly and blushing, that she then had me squirt carefully every night for years. Soon she had to have me gently rub twice and squirt twice before the penis softened again. I couldn't remember at all, but she said I was only startled half asleep and then went right back to deep sleep. But when she noticed that I had learned to masturbate and squirt with Willi, she stopped playing with my penis from one day to the next.

For a few years she fucked another man every day, but when I was 11 or 12, no more men came to her bed, from then on she was mine alone. She listened in horror, her face red with shame, as I told her everything I remembered. She had never known that, she said, and we were silent for a long time. Then I asked how it had gone on and she continued after a while.

Uncle Frieder was a lawyer and knew perfectly well that they could not afford to make a mistake, because the divorce could ruin him if they did not proceed wisely. So he got mother and me this little one–room apartment far out of town, and they agreed to see each other only once or twice a week to fuck until the divorce, secretly, of course. For that he gave us some money so we could make ends meet.

My tears had long since dried as I cuddled up to her. It was bad for me, but I could do no more than escape to the safest place in the world, her warm lap. Slowly she undressed me and caressed me before she undressed too. I waited meanwhile and pondered full of jealousy, then I asked the question, how that was, with the uncle Frieder, how that was with them fucking?

Mother smiled and lay down next to me. This is nothing, she said and pulled me to her chest, Uncle Frieder is already very old, and therefore it is not like with me. How, not like that with me? I asked defiantly and full of mistrust. Mother cleared her throat first and thought about it for quite a long time, then she explained to me that he was already very old and that he ran out of breath when fucking, long before she could reach orgasm. That was finally over, she usually only does it to him with her hand or with her mouth, that he liked most. And that is quite different from the two of us, isn't it? I had to agree with her that with us it was really different. She rubbed the old man, but I took care of the real fucking. Somehow I was reassured and almost relaxed, but I still asked how it was done, with her mouth? She thought again quite a short time before she explained to me how to do it to a man with the mouth. My confused look and my questioning eyes made her laugh, she hesitated only a moment before diving down and taking my cock in her mouth. My curiosity turned to horniness, the horniness to arousal and then I breathlessly whispered it was coming to squirt, but she was not deterred and continued with the head nodding continued until it squirted, then she sucked it all in, swallowed the semen and sucked until nothing more came. It wasn't as fine as fucking, but squirted is squirted.

From now on she didn't have to lie to me when she went to town, and I tried to cope better with my jealousy. When I went on to ask if she went only to Uncle Frieder's or to someone else, she remained silent until I asked again. Then she admitted that sometimes she also went to one or the other, you know, with whom she had done it a long time ago. I had guessed it and nodded affectedly. And that Uncle Frieder must not find out all the details, she added, because she liked him very much and wanted to marry him. I wanted to know which of them she really enjoyed it with. When I continued to probe, she blushed all over and finally confessed that she had once met two friends, young and strong cocks, with whom she had sometimes fucked through the whole night with heavenly orgasms until the morning. No, not at the same time, she smiled with answering, always only one after the other. But that had been over for a very long time.

Despite this, I continued to ask her out and did not give in until she told everything in great detail. She didn't want to hide anything from me and squirmed uncomfortably, but finally she told everything, a bit jumbled. That she drove from Uncle Frieder directly to her former admirers, usually she visited four or five in a row and all of them had to give her money. She blushed again, when she admitted, that she let herself fuck every week by 10 to 15 guys and — here her face turned deeply red — she loved it very much to be fucked by so many different cocks. Every fucking was different to any other. There were only a handful of the more than 100 lovers that fucked her to a proper orgasm, but she always reached a high and intense sexual arousal which she would not miss, not for all the Gold of the Kings. I asked, what about us? She looked me in my eyes, clear and honest. "We fuck a good 15 times a week," she said firmly, and "you are the only one I love deeply with all my heart, and the only one who could give me a real orgasm anytime."

Most of the admirers didn't want to believe that she was already 48, most of them thought she was in her mid–thirties and she was very proud of her beautiful body. (She had accepted Uncle Frieder's marriage proposal only on the condition that she could continue to visit the friends who fucked very well and keep the money for herself — she wanted a self‐determined life and Frieder had agreed.) She would usually be invited for afternoon coffee or dinner before she did them. No, she never did them with her mouth but only Frieder, most of them wanted to fuck her properly, she said, and if they were struggling she would do them with her hand first until they were stiff and able to fuck. Only a very few fucked her so long that she got her orgasm, never did she masturbate in front of them, not even in front of Uncle Frieder. But, she continued firmly, she only did it because we needed the money so badly, and she was no whore. Then she burst into tears. Startled, I hugged her and stroked her back soothingly; of course she wasn't a whore, I said, she took care of us as best she could. So that was the thing with Uncle Frieder.

The thing with Anni was quite complicated. She began to prefer me to Willi when I was with them and drove him quite crazy with it. Sometimes she teased me by whispering in my ear that Willi fucked her so–and–often now because he was so jealous; I, on the other hand, had my head completely elsewhere and tolerated Anni's caresses, but at the same time I was thinking about the fucking with mother. When Anni became pregnant, I stayed away and left her completely to Willi, because they would have to get married soon anyway. Whenever I met Willi, he avoided me and I had the impression that he was not happy with Anni and being a father. Soon the contact broke off completely, except for the home evenings with the Hitler Youth, for it was already 1938. Later I heard that Willi came via Hamburg to the nautical school and the submariners. He wrote once–twice funny field postcards, made mischievous insinuations, how great the women there were, how cross–fit one was and that one allowed oneself here and there more than only a glass.

When I heard that Anni had had her child and named him Bruno Wilhelm, I was delighted at the unexpected honor, but it was several weeks before I could visit her. At the municipal office she had stated that the father was unknown, which earned her scorn from the villagers. I, too, was stunned, because it was as clear as daylight that Willi was the father, and why she made such a secret of it, I did not understand. No, of course I also wanted to confront Anni about it, because it seemed cowardly to me. Willi had moved in for the Reich, for all of us and did not deserve this denial behind his back.

When I first entered Anni's apartment, Bruno Wilhelm was already a few months old. Anni, who now better looked as before, welcomed me with a radiant smile and embraced me. She chattered away and showed me her little darling. She gave her mother a serious look, and the grumpy old woman got up after a moment and went out to visit her neighbor. It was just as well, because we wanted to be alone.

When I spoke out my reproach concerning Willi, Anni looked down at the ground for a few moments, affected, then she looked at me very directly and asked the counter–question why I was so sure that the child was Willi's? I remained silent, concerned and astonished, because I had not known until then that she had also screwed around with others. We were silent and the tension was only released when she took Bruno Wilhelm out of the cradle and we sat down on the sofa. I looked at the two of them while she breastfeed him and it created a warm feeling in my heart. Admittedly, Anni had developed pimples and blemished skin, and her hair was sticking out like yellow straw since she had her blond braids cut off, but her eyes were shining just like the eyes of the little one, whom she held incredibly gently and sweetly in her arms. Also, her bosom had grown beautiful and large and was plump with milk. My glance at her new bosom did not escape her, of course not. She put the little one in the cradle after he had fallen asleep again and sat very close next to me.

She talked about Willi and the time of her pregnancy and that Willi had volunteered so surprisingly. I didn't know that, I muttered over and over again, because if all the other things she told were true, then he had made off as soon as it became serious. Surprisingly, she put her arm around me and kissed me, right on the mouth. Then she laughed brightly, because I was visibly perplexed. Come on, she laughed conspiratorially, we haven't done it for many months! She kissed me again, and now I kissed her too, although I was astonished; for then I had abused her, and then she had nothing but contempt for me. When we paused, breathing a deep sigh of relief, I said as much, but Anni only said "Fiddle–dee–dee!" and kissed me again.

"I've liked you more and more each time," she said, "you were always so serious and closed off, and you've suffered from Willi's dominance, too." She paused for a long moment and looked at me frankly. "You're very wrong," she repeated, "in the end I actually liked you a lot!" I thought about it and had to admit that it had really been like that, although I had completely repressed that beautiful time and remembered all too clearly my meanness toward her. And, because Willi had practically pushed me out of our three–way relationship, later, when she was already pregnant.

"Your breasts have become beautiful," I said and felt them under the blouse. She blushed a little and said it was because she was breastfeeding Little Bruno. She looked at me with wide eyes and asked if I still liked her. Again I was surprised and mutely answered in the affirmative, when she smiled very gently and whispered, "Well, come on then!" and leaned back on the sofa. So it came that we began to fuck again, and I obediently paid attention at the beginning, because she had said that I was not allowed to squirt inside because of the breastfeeding period and the pregnancy. When Little Bruno started to cry in the middle of it and she put him to her breast, we continued with the peck on her breast and there it happened again and again that I squirted into her. Admittedly, I did it later on purpose, because Anni could not defend herself with the little one at her breast. Anni smiled gently, although she was always quite restless because of it.

Anni's mother was a little gray mouse who constantly whined about the bad world, the bad times and the bad people. When she came to it once, as we were still in the middle of fucking, she acted God knows how horrified and shouted that he could finally marry her, the cowardly brat! Anni shouted angrily at her and she immediately withdrew, but we had to start all over again, because we had lost the joy of fucking.

It depressed me very much that my mother had to fuck with several patrons to bring us financially over the rounds. And because she went to the city more and more often, I also went to Anni and the little one quite often. My sexual desire grew the more often my mother stayed away, and there I had to stick to Anni. I liked it best to fuck her when she put Bruno Wilhelm to the breast, then I held my two treasures gently and fucked Anni gently. It was so nice to hold them both tightly and let it squirt in very slowly, without any wild fuss. She loved it most when after the first time she lolls a bit and I fucked her the second time, hard and firm. That way she often got a wonderful orgasm, but not always could I last that long. I was then always annoyed, but once she brought it up, we discussed it for a long time. She blushed and confessed to masturbate only very rarely and secretly, because of the little one and because of the bigot mother. We laughed because that was actually stupid, and then of course she did it quickly when I was tired.

Anni was very grateful that my mother had somehow managed to keep me from being drafted. She often sighed that it was enough for her that Willi had been taken from her; and no, not now me too! She didn't talk about marriage at all anymore, because I had told her that I first had to finish my apprenticeship at the notary's office and find a job, only then I could think about something like that. I hadn't told her that I was also still quite insecure, because she never said anything about whom else she had fucked and who the father of little Bruno Wilhelm really was. So that was the thing with Anni.