The Memoirs of Josephine Mutzenbacher (vintage erotica) (2 page)

A
nna and her brother one day had received another visit from her cousins Mizzie and Polde. This time they brought with them a big boy. He was fifteen years of age and his name was Robert. He was learning a trade and was quite well-grown for his age. He immediately declared himself chief of our games, and, when he showed us his “pecker,” we saw that he already had a lot of hair around it. We three girls played with it and enjoyed a strange thrill as we felt the pulse beating in it. We were extremely happy and excited as we manipulated it, for it was by far the largest one that we had ever seen. Mizzie asked him to poke her first, but he answered: “No, first I am going to diddle Pepi.” I remember how proud I had felt at this. I rushed up to the bed, lay down on my back, lifted up my dresses, unbuttoned my panties and spread my legs apart.

Robert came to bed, felt my “kitten,” looked at it and said: “My dear, I can only poke you from the outside!” Mizzie cried: “Why, of course; she hasn't even got hair on it! Come and poke me! I can stand your putting it all the way in, you know.” She immediately lay down, trying to push me out of the bed, but he said: “No, I am going to poke Pepi!” I lay perfectly quiet, as you can imagine. I looked at Robert. His face was red and he put his finger into my slit and rubbed it until I was excited and passionate as never before.

He thought it over for a minute, then declared: “I'll show you something!” He called Anna, who also had to go into bed, lying next to the wall. I was in the middle and Mizzie on the outside. Robert then got in, but did not get on top of me. He told me to turn over. I was lying on my stomach. He raised my clothing so that my little bottom was bare. He then had Anna crawl up to the head of the bed, so that her thighs were next to my shoulder. He then uncovered her grotto. Now he ordered Mizzie to bare her titties. She unbuttoned her waist and pulled down her chemise, and I noticed that her nipples stood out hard and firm. Robert then raised me up and put a pillow under my stomach so that my bottom was slightly raised, then he told me to squeeze my legs together, and he pushed his shaft from behind toward until I felt it rubbing gently against my “kitten” from between my buttocks. He then started working up and down. A most pleasant sensation seemed to go through my entire body. Suddenly I began to moan like Mizzie had done, and began working my bottom up and down in rhythm with his movements. My face buried in the pillow under my head, I saw nothing. But I felt the most pleasant sensation between my legs! Finally I heard Anna and Mizzie breathing heavily and moaning. I looked up from my pillow and saw Robert playing with Anna's slit with his left hand, which must have made her feel very good indeed, for she was working forward and back with all her might. With his right hand he was working Mizzie's nipples, which were getting harder and bigger all the time. Finally Mizzie started to cry out: “Oh!… I want somebody to poke me… I must be poked. .. Franz!… Ferdl!… Please… Oh! Franz… Come… !” She caught hold of his tool and pulled him to her. He lay down beside Robert, attacking Mizzie with all his might, while Robert helped him by playing with her nipples. But Mizzi still was unsatisfied. She reached out again, this time grabbing her brother, Polde, by the shaft. She was so excited that she took the tiny tool between her lips and started to suck on it. By this time Ferdl could not stand it any longer. He crawled up to his sister, Anna, and invaded her mouth. This seemed to excite her still more, and she started licking and sucking the stiff little offering- So there, the seven of us, were thus busily engaged. Robert still was slowly pushing in and pulling out, while I experienced such a wonderful, pleasant sensation. Then, all of a sudden, Robert began to work faster and faster, and, with a shock, I felt something wet and hot pouring out of him and onto my stomach. I was frightened and screamed, but Robert kept right on moving. The hot stuff seemed to be spreading over me. I said: “Something has happened. Stop it.”

But he kept right on, saying: “Keep quiet, I am discharging.”

I said: “You are peeing on me.” But he said: “No, I am not. I am 'going off.' That has to happen.” When he was through and got up, the rest of the group separated, all wondering about this curious phenomenon of Robert's 'discharge.' Robert told us that Franz, Ferdl and Polde still were too young; that they would not be able to 'go off' until they had a Jot of hair on their bellies and around their tools. Mizzie inquired: “Why is that?” But the boys and I wanted to see Robert discharge again. He was willing and said: “But you must do it with your hand.” We did not know how, so he showed us. He sat on a chair and began to tug at his tool. We soon learned how it was done. Then we took turns doing it, the same as he had done. Mizzie finally placed it in her watering mouth and began to suck on it. She was so hot and excited that she took it all in.

Finally it was my turn. I had no time to think, but puckered up my lips and took the thing into my mouth as she had done. I felt a sensation in my grotto and realized again the sensation of being poked. After me, Anna had her turn, but she had hardly begun, when Robert began to 'squirt.' She jumped back and spit out what she had received in her mouth. Robert at once started to tug at himself until he rid himself of the whole 'discharge.' At every jerk, large drops of white matter were thrown out so far that I got one big drop in my face. We were all greatly astonished and very much excited over this phenomenon. Anna immediately fell on Robert and graciously begged him: “Now, you will please poke me now, won't you?” But Robert's tail hung limp and exhausted. “I can't do it, I can't do it. He won t stand again.” Mizzie was beside herself. She sat down between his legs, took the slack appendage in her mouth and started to suck, saying: “When he stands you must poke me.” In the meantime, Franz, Ferdl and Polde wanted to try this new and delightful discovery of sucking, so Anna and I went at it. It was easier with the boys, as their weapons were smaller and thinner than Robert's. I took Ferdl and Anna took Franz. Ferdl was wild. He pushed into my throat so that I had his entire device in my mouth. After pushing it in and out about a do/en times, he 'went off.' I felt a drop when he discharged, but I felt a sensation between my legs as though I had it away up inside me and I must have 'gone off' at the same time. It was beyond description. I held his stalk in my mouth until it was soft and limp. Then, since Anna and Ferdl still were at it, I took Polde, who was waiting. He had already done this before with his sister and was quite expert. Almost immediately I experienced a tickling sensation and a buss which I cannot describe. I began playing around the head of the stalk with my tongue, which caused Polde to 'come' at once. He held me tightly around my neck, pushing his rigid rove away into my mouth. I had the keenest sensation as I felt the pulsation in the splendid shaft. I held him in my mouth until he became soft.

In the meantime, Mizzie, with all her teasing and licking, had succeeded in bringing Robert back to life. Franz and Anna could not make room quickly enough. Mizzie acted like a crazy woman. She bounced on the bed and dragged Robert after her. Taking one of his fingers after another, as she had previously done with his tool, she put them into her mouth, sucking and biting them. She grabbed his staff and pushed it into her opening, then worked so hard that the bed creaked. At last, she was getting a poke from her Robert, as she had been trying to do all afternoon. Suddenly Robert bent down, took one of her nipples into his mouth and began working it and sucking it the same as she had done with his shaft. Mizzie cried out: “Oh… poke me… Poke me! Oh, such a spear… such a grand, glorious spear

… push harder… faster… still faster… poke me tonight… tomorrow afternoon… every day… Oh… how grand and beautiful…!” Robert gave a short grunt and squirted; Mizzie lay as one dead. There was no doubt that Robert was a great man. Anna was happy that at last she had been poked like a grown-up but we did not pay any attention to her in the excitement. Robert told us that he had been poking for two years. His step-mother had taught him how. His father was a cripple and slept with his wife, Robert's step-mother, while Robert slept in the kitchen. One evening, while he was sitting on a bench in the kitchen, his step-mother came in. As it slowly grew dark, she sat closer beside him and began to fondle him-first his hands, then his head, and then his thighs and legs, suddenly slipping her hand into his trousers. But perhaps I had better tell the story as he told it to us children. “My step-mother ran her hand into my trousers and my shaft stiffened. She then let go of me and, unbuttoning her dress, put my hand on her naked nipples and showed me how to play with and manipulate them. She gave them to me, first one and then the other, finally both together, and we had a great time. “She had long, thin breasts which hung down nearly to her waist, and big brown nipples which responded to manipulation quickly. She soon began breathing so loudly that father heard her and called out: “"What is the matter in there?”

“'Nothing,' she answered, 'I am just sitting here with Robert,' at the same time fondling my stalk. “After doing this for a time, she left me and returned to the other room. During the night, however, when father was asleep, she came out to the kitchen in her night-dress, got into bed with me, crawled on top of me and put my spear into her grotto. Then she leaned over and put her nipples into my mouth, first one, then the other. It felt very good, as you can imagine. She showed me how to work up and down, and I poked her until she 'went off,' sinking on me totally exhausted. “The next evening we sat again in the kitchen playing with each other, and, that night, when father had gone to sleep, she again came in and we poked once more. “One night she did not come. I could not sleep and could not imagine why she did not come to me. Sitting up in bed, by the light of the moon, which streamed in through the window in the adjoining room, I could see their bed. I saw mother on top of father, who could not move. She was entirely nude, and was vigorously working up and down. Stooping over and putting her nipples in his mouth, 'she went through the same performance as she had done with me.

“Waiting until she was through with my father, I called out, making believe that I was ill. She came to my bed and leaned over me, asking what was the matter. I suppose that she understood that I had seen what had just been going on. She immediately gave me her titties to play with, got into bed beside me, took off her nightdress so that she was entirely naked and said to me: Tonight you must get on top of me.' “She showed me how to do it in this manner and then we both went at it with a great vigor. In fact, we made such a racket that my father called out: “What does the boy want?” “She replied, keeping right on thrusting: 'He wants me… he's feeling better now.' “Father again fell asleep and we continued our enterprise. We had to stop several times, for we rolled and shook so much that the bed was making a terrible noise and we were afraid of waking my father again. “When we had finished, mother wanted some more. As I could not get stiff, she took my tool into her mouth, starting to suck on it. I wanted to cry out, the feeling was so intense. Of course, my tool immediately stiffened under this treatment. And, as soon as it got hard, she made me get up, go over and sit on the bench, and she sat astride of me, and we had one more poke in this manner. Then she put on her night-dress and returned to her room. “The next day I spent in bed, being too tired to get up. Father thought that I really was ill, but it was simply the result of the violent night I had spent.” Robert had by now been poking his stepmother regularly for the past two years. We looked on him with great admiration and respect, as he had been well-instructed in the arts of love. When he finished his story, we were all set to go at it again, the idea of lying on top of him interesting us greatly. Robert, however, said that there were still other ways of doing it: he had also poked his step-mother from behind. Anna and Mizzie immediately wanted to do it that way. But they misunderstood what he meant by back-door poking. Both wanted to try it while lying on top of him. I also wanted to try it, but since Robert could not raise himself to the tack again, I began laying with Ferdl. Shortly after this delightful afternoon, Anna and Ferdl and their father moved away, and I saw them no more for a long time.

Q
uite frequently at home I heard my father and mother shaking the bed and breathing hard, but I could not discern anything in the dark. I had an idea that I knew what it all was about, however, so, when this occurred, I would lie in bed listening with rapt attention, at the same time fingering myself. I got so that I could satisfy myself very well by this method. I often heard mother and father whispering to each other in a tone too low for me to distinguish words. One Saturday night father came home drunker than usual. Mother got up and helped him undress. When I awoke at the noise, I saw a light in the room. Father pushed mother over on the bed and reaching up under her clothing, she at the time fighting him off.

He whispered: “Here now… spread your legs apart!”

Mother refused, saying: “Go away! You are drunk!” “What of it?… Come on…!” He was a powerful man. Wild-eyed, he grabbed her, tore her night-dress, caught her by the breasts and pushed her back on the bed. Then he got on top of her, brandishing his big, stiff shaft out, all ready for business. “Put out the light, the children are looking,” mother said. But father just said: “Put it in, damn it!” Mother again said: “Put out the lights, you fool! We don't want the children watching this.” Father just growled: “They are asleep.” And he went right on with his business. Soon I heard mother say: “Oh, but that is so good! How big you are tonight!”

They presently finished and all was quiet once more, father falling asleep immediately and mother soon afterward. When they had started to snore, I slipped out of my bed and over to Franz, who slept on a nearby lounge. He had not seen anything but he heard it all. I got into his bed with him and we hugged each other fiercely. He wanted to get on top of me, but I turned over and made him invade me from behind as Robert had done. We were very quiet; nobody heard us, but we were rather frightened at first. We were quite naked and the feeling of our little bodies rubbing so close together without the interference of clothing was delightful. Finally completed off our little poke, and, finding that we were comparatively safe, we did it often at night, as we could feel reasonably safe when all the rest were asleep. Soon after this, we got a new roomer in our home. This roomer was a middle-aged man of fifty or so. I do not know what his business was, but he was at home a great deal and sat in the kitchen for hours talking to mother. I often was left alone with him. Since he had a full, bushy beard I often wondered how much hair he had between his legs. One Sunday, when he was washing himself, I noticed his hairy chest. This only enhanced my curiosity as to his other parts. He was very friendly to me. Often he stroked my hair, chuckled me under the chin and caressed and fondled me frequently. I always went to him smiling when he spoke. Happening to be at home alone with him one day, I thought: “Now is my chance.”

I went up to him and began to stroke his beard. He must have perceived something in my looks which robbed him of his senses for a moment. He began shivering, and put his hand between my legs as if looking for an entrance. I was standing in front of him. I did not discourage any movement on his part, but smiled encouragingly. He pressed harder, but as yet only on the outside of my fluffy dress. I stepped up closer, between his knees, and smiled. His face reddened and he pulled me to him and kissed me. He then lifted up my dress, pulled down my panties and kissed me passionately on the mouth. He next looked at and began to finger my grotto. This sensation seemed different from anything I had ever before experienced, due no doubt, to the fact that hitherto I had played only with boys while this was a grown man. I became so excited that I could hardly control myself. I did not know whether he was using one finger or five. But I did not care. I felt as if I was being poked. Excitedly I began to work back and forth, at the same time playing with the hair on his breast. He took my other hand and placed it on his shaft which he had taken out. It was so large I could hardly get my hand around it.

I started working it back and forth while he rubbed my mound and kissed me. We kept this up until suddenly he stiffened out and twisted and squirmed and began to ejaculate in great drops that squirted far into the room. At the same time, part of the hot and sticky deluge flowed across my hand. I also 'came,' for he had quickened the movement on my “kitten' with his finger as he 'came.' When he had finished, he sat there frightened, telling me not to breathe a word of what had happened between us, to anyone. As I shook my head, he kissed me again, got up and went out. For several days I hardly saw him. He was apparently ashamed. This also affected me, and when I would see him approaching, I would run away. About a week later, while playing in the backyard with my brothers, I saw him go into the house. Since my mother had gone out previously, I knew that he would be all alone up in his room. Without hesitating I sneaked up after him, my heart beating wildly and rapidly, and I quivering in excitement.

When I entered the kitchen, he reached eagerly for me, his hands shaking. I threw myself into his arms and he at once put his hand between my legs and began to finger my slit. We sat down beside each other and he put his tool into my hand. I now had a good chance to examine it, and I must say, even after all these years, having had thousands of shafts not only pushed into my grotto but into every opening in my body, that this was an exceptionally fine specimen of a healthy, strong spear, twice as long as Robert's, somewhat bent, with a large red head; and a great mass of dark hair surrounding it. I certainly could have had a great time with it had I been but a few years older and more developed. I eagerly manipulated this massive member with one hand, as I had learned to do from Robert. When I tired, and stopped working, he whispered: “Go on, my angel; my darling girl; my little sweet-heart! For goodness sake, go on… don't stop!” Much pleased at these pet names, I worked hard and tried to do what he wanted. Soon he 'squirted' so high that the deluge almost struck me in the face. A few days later, during a repeat performance, he said: “Darling, angel, sweetheart.” I was doing my best to please him, throwing my hips around as he was working at my grotto. “Oh, goodness,” he continued, “if I could only poke you right… just once, just one little poke!” In a moment I pulled away, laid on the floor on my back, spread my legs apart and said:

“Come on, try it.” He came over, stooped down, coughed and said: “No, damn it. You're too small.” “That's nothing,” I answered. “Try it anyhow.” Half wild, he got on top of me. He put his hand under my bottom, lifted me up and rubbed his tool against my toolbox. I held on to the monstrous machine, making sure that he rubbed it all over. Between shoves, he asked: “Have you been poked before?” Something warned me to deny it. I did so, but he insisted, saying: “Now, angel, tell me, you have been poked, haven't you? I know it. Who was it? Often? Was it good?” I was breathing hard. I could feel his engine jerking, but I still denied it, saying: “No, certainly not. Of course not. This is the first time.” His breath came faster and the pleasure for me became greater. “Is it good?” he asked. “Oh, so good,” I said. Just then he 'went off,' wetting my belly. “Lay still,” he said, and he wiped me clean.

Now he asked: “Are you telling the truth? Come on and tell me.”

I told him that I had seen it done and pointed to the other room. “Yes, yes. Your father and mother.” He wanted me to tell him all, and, as I told him what I had seen and heard, he played with my slit until I again went off. I did not tell Franz that I had been poked by a grown-up man, although he was always talking of Mrs. Rhinelander, dreaming about her…