Hawiian Cruise
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In the 1950s in St. Kilda, Melbourne’s beach-side, playground suburb, several so-called Continental Clubs had opened up. They added to St. Kilda’s nightlife a touch of central European ambience, quite different from the still British-colonial evening entertainments in the rest of Melbourne. The founders of these clubs had migrated to Australia in the post-war years. Some had come under the 120,000 Displaced Persons’ intake between 1947 and 1950; others had arrived under the Australian government's migration agreements with Germany, the Netherlands, and Austria.
Among the Austrians and Germans, it attracted many young men and some single women, then in their mid-twenties. After the turmoil of war and defeat, most of them had not found their place in the harsh post-war world of their countries. Quite a few of them were ethnic-Germans that had fled from the eastern parts of Europe in 1945. For many of them, the West had offered no ready refuge and acceptance. They were, therefore, willing to try a new life overseas. The opportunity to come to Australia at the cost of only ten pounds made it a more attractive destination than Canada.
Both August and Martin were such Ten Pound New Australians. They had met as tenants in one of St.Kilda’s rooming houses.
August was a nuggetty, no-nonsense Berliner, hard-working and holding down a well-paid, responsible job at Dunlop Tyres. Conscripted in 1944 at seventeen into Hitler’s army, he survived the final six months of retreat on the Russian front to return to a city in ruins and no home or family. His parents had been killed in an air-raid.
August arrived in Australia in 1951, found work, settled down, and, with some fellow Germans, got involved in starting the German Club in Barkly Street.
Martin had just turned twenty-one. An Austrian, he came from settled family background, had some secondary schooling, and completed an apprenticeship. In 1956, restlessness, the low Austrian wages, and an unhappy ending to his first love made him sign the immigration contract to come to Australia to stay and work for a minimum of two years.
Martin, slim, six-foot-two, and promising to become a strikingly handsome man, was by nature quiet without being shy. Although so much younger in years and experience, August liked his company. They began to go to August’s German Club together often.
On this Saturday night, the Club was already busy. However, August managed to get a little table for them some distance from the dance floor. Then he wandered off to talk to some friends. To Martin’s surprise, August returned accompanied by two women. He quickly organised two additional chairs. With the four of them sitting close together, intimacy promptly developed. August already knew one of the women, a German nurse, from earlier years.
She and her work colleague had come to town for a day of shopping and going to the pictures. In the evening, they had decided to drop in at the German Club for a brief visit. They had to catch the last bus to return to the Mental Hospital twenty miles out of town, where they were in residence as nurses.
Both women were attractive. They were confidently at ease in their bodies but with no girlish softness left in their faces. In age, they were closer to August’s thirty-plus than to Martin’s twenty-two. On his own, even if he had been attracted as he was becoming now, he would have been too intimidated to approach them.
They were, however, lively company and talked freely about their lives and experiences. One, August’s acquaintance, had grown up in Danzig. Fleeing from the Russians, she found no fitting home in post-war West Germany and had come, like August, to Australia in 1951. The other woman, her name was Hilde, came from Stuttgart. She had arrived two years later.
Both worked as nurses in Sunbury’s Mental Asylum. At the time, the Department of Immigration directed many non-British migrant women to staff Australia’s mental institutions and TB sanatoriums. They made up for the shortage of Australian nurses. These were deemed too precious to work in such institutions' often unsavoury and dangerous conditions.
Huddled together, the four shared quite a few drinks of brandy, hidden in coffee cups. Although unlicensed, alcohol was more freely available in the German Club than in the nearby Austrian Ski Club. There the police appeared often, going from table to table, lifting and sniffing coffee cups in search of forbidden whiffs. The Germans had obviously reached some agreement with the constabulary, and their whiff-sniffers raided only rarely and never unannounced.
Anyway, with lively talk, flirting, and repeated exchanges of furtive touching, August, Martin and the two women had a more and more sexily animated time. When the women made a move to leave, August easily persuaded them to stay. He promised to drive them home, all the long way to Sunbury. They readily agreed.
The four had quite naturally paired off by then: August with his old acquaintance and Martin partnering Hilde. She, like Martin, loved to dance. And Hilde, shapely slim and almost as tall as him, felt warm and promising in his arms as she led Martin gradually into dancing cheek-to-cheek and, eventually, closer than just heart-to-heart.
With August driving, his flame for the night slid quickly into the front seat. Martin and Hilde – she was merry and giggling in unvoiced expectation – struggled onto the backbench of the Volkswagen. As soon as they were seated, Hilde wedged her shapely bottom as close onto Martin as she could get. Then, her arm snuck across Martin’s neck, and she pulled him into a much promising kiss even before August could start the engine. By the time the VW pulled away from the kerb, Martin was hers.
Hilde was a shameless kisser. Her brandy-rich tongue dove into the depth of Martin’s mouth, engaging his in a sensual dance. When Martin’s hand moved shyly onto her breasts, she hurriedly opened her jacket to let an enticing boob swell into his grip.
Releasing Martin’s mouth after what seemed long minutes of the most brazenly naughty kissing he had known, Hilde’s lips shifted to his ear. The VW engine behind their back was loud, but Martin could feel her heavy breathing. Then she whispered: -
“I’m so glad we met. I like naughty boys that love and know how to kiss a woman!”
Then came her afterthought.
“So many men don’t!”
She had clearly decided that Martin was to be her naughty boy for tonight. And he, for a moment, had to weigh up the lure of her naughtiness against the humiliation of the pecking order she assumed.
Martin was not prepared to submit too meekly. He was pushing her hard against the backrest, with one hand cupping a breast and the other on her neck. Hilde’s lips opened hungrily, waiting for his. When her tongue temptingly flicked into his mouth, Martin sucked it in hard and deep, with his teeth threatening a bite. She quickly joined in this game, pretending to fight her tongue’s capture with throaty moans. But then, when breaking momentarily free, Hilde rushed anew into an even wilder and sexier kiss.
This tempestuous kissing brought them quickly into an undeniable and potentially embarrassing state of arousal. They were, after all, in a cramped and shared car visible under glass, being driven through a brightly lit-up city. And Hilde had almost unbuttoned her blouse as they kissed, which encouraged Martin to free her breasts from the constraint of the bra. There was no protest. As she twisted in and pressed her bared tits into his – at first – tentative grasp, she moaned a throaty, “Yes! Yes! Touch me!” into his mouth.
Glancing down, Martin saw that her skirt had slipped up on her thighs. She saw him looking. When he reached for her knee, her thighs unhesitatingly parted, inviting his hand to glide up the velvety inside of her unstockinged thigh.
Bringing her hot breath and a tickling flick of the tongue to Martin’s ear, she whispered, “God, you are a naughty boy. You are not going to stop, are you?”
By then, Martin’s hand had closed over Hilda’s warm fleshy mound, and soon one of his fingers slipped under her panties into a hot, wet welcome. She greeted it with a drawn-out “Yes” before her lips fastened on Martin. The wild dance of her tongue, after she rammed it deep into his mouth, let Martin know what her pussy wanted.
When the car stopped at a traffic light, Hilde dived down sideways, out of sight from possible lookers-in. She had gripped Martin’s wrist to hold his finger captive in her hot, so temptingly grinding cunt.
When August pulled away from the lights, Hilde scrambled up to continue their mad kissing. At the next stop at lights, she again dived down, gripping Martin’s wrist. When the car started to pull away, Hilde sat up, lifting her ass. As she pushed down, three of Martin’s fingers, down to the palm, pressed into Hilde’s hot-gripping cunt. For a moment, Martin was shocked. He had never imagined that a woman’s tight pussy wanted to or should be pleasured like this. But now, Hilde rocked on his stretched, clawing fingers. She was no longer kissing. Her mouth was on his neck, as she whimpered and moaned louder, Martin feared, than the VW’s engine staccato hammering. He was sure that August and his partner would hear.
At the next stop at traffic lights – it was a busy, brightly lit city intersection – Hilde, in the ecstasy of her ride, stayed momentarily upright. Then, realising that she was in full view of everybody near the car, she threw herself sideways. In curling up, Hilde’s ass twisted and jerked against Martin’s hand, wedged against his thigh. As the light turned green, the noise of the revving up engine covered her scream as she convulsed, shaking and squirming, in the grip of orgasm.
After a long while, lying on the seat recovering her poise, Hilde sat up. She turned her head to Martin, and he kissed her gently.
Eventually, with a smile and in her friendly, normal voice, Hilde said, “God, that was some wicked love-making. I was greedy, needing it. But how about you, my naughty boy?”
As her hand reached across in search of Martin’s still painfully restricted, overheated cock she grinned at him.
“Oh, what a surprise. You are a little excited too. Do you want me to do something about that?”
They were still in the suburbs, and the street lights were flashing past the car’s window. Hilde grinned, stroking caressingly over his cock. She gave Martin a quick little kiss.
“With all these lights, I better stay out of sight!”
She slid down. Half kneeling in the foot-well, half lying across the seat, Hilde deftly undid Martin’s belt and unzipped his fly. With the matter-of-factness of a nurse, she uncovered his bursting forth cock. Then, resting her head on Martin’s thighs, Hilde started to rub and stroke his impressive, now liberated member. When Martin looked down, he saw its seeping tip a mere centimetre from her lips, which seemed to move as if forming words as she glimpsed up at him. He reached down to stroke over Hilde’s shortish hair.
Smiling up at Martin – with the motor’s noise he had to watch her lips and guess – Hilde whispered, “You are a naughty boy! Now you want me to suck your cock, don’t you?”
Hilde’s hand, sliding up and down, brought Martin’s straining cock closer and closer to her opening lips. Her tongue began to flick over its tip. Then Hilde’s lips closed over the excitedly engorged head of Martin’s cock, and her greedy mouth and tongue started their tantalising ministration. No woman had made love to him like that before. Martin threw back his head, crying out as he pushed his cock into Hilde’s face and hand.
Embarrassed, he looked at August’s back. Martin realised August could and probably did watch in his mirror what was happening in the backseat. One could only hope he would keep one eye on the road. His partner had folded down the sun-guard. She had adjusted it in a way where its make-up mirror could not have shown her face. Martin caught her eye in the mirror. To his surprise, he was not shocked but turned on by her watching him getting sucked.
It was Martin’s first experience of oral sex, of being pleasured by a woman’s mouth and tongue. He was also mildly shocked. Unlike now – when oral sex has almost become a feature of light-petting and foreplay – in 1960, it was still more a whispered about perversion than common practice.
However, being so ‘loved’ by Hilde, Martin was quickly undone. When he could no longer hold back, he grabbed Hilde’s hair to pull her away. With his other hand, Martin just managed to direct the charge away from Hilde’s face and body. Unlike today’s porn generation, he had not learned that coming into a mouth and over the face is, supposedly, an aphrodisiac for all women.
Martin was embarrassed about what had happened, but Hilde’s surprising response calmed him. She placed her hand onto Martin’s soaked crotch, unafraid to get her fingers sticky.
With a giggle, she said, “God, what a load. I’ll have to clean you up.”
She reached under her skirt, stretched out on the seat and took off her panties. Bringing them up to her nose, Hilde grinned and said, “They are pretty wet already, you naughty boy!”
Then, with a nurse’s efficiency, she cleaned Martin up. She decided, however, that his still-wet pants should stay lowered. With his cock airing and on show, Hilde bent over it for a quick, loving kiss.
Now it was dark country outside; the street lights were gone. Hilde and Martin had cuddled up in what seemed like satisfied affection. Without the raw lust of before, Hilde kissed him now in a different, lingering way. Murmuring words, he could not hear but guess, her tongue teasingly caressed his lips. Soon aroused anew, Martin pushed his tongue between Hilde’s – signalling a renewed desire – readily opening lips.
Martin was half-revolted by suddenly wanting to sink his tongue into a mouth that had just sucked his cock, with the taste of his almost-coming still on its palate! But he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
When Martin’s hand reached for Hilde’s now naked crotch, the thrust of her pelvis ground two of his fingers into the slippery-hot depth of her cunt. She moaned a drawn-out “Yess …!” into his mouth, and her hand gripped Martin’s hardening cock.
This time he knew what she wanted. When he sank all his fingers almost hand-deep into her, her gyrating groin guided fingertips and knuckles to the most sensitive spots. As Hilde whimpered and moaned, she punished Martin with quite painful bites to his shoulder and neck.
This time Hilde climaxed quicker and longer than before, and Martin pressed her shaking and arching body hard against his. It was a new experience for him, and he wanted to keep this woman’s wonderful, orgasmic shuddering imprinted on his body and mind.
When August stopped the car near the gatehouse to the Mental Asylum, he was not pleased about parking there for quick goodbyes. His partner giggled and laughed a bit, playing coy. Then, however, she directed him to a secluded spot in a side lane under overhanging trees. Had the women parked there before on outings like tonight?
August killed the VW’s engine. Martin expected that August would order him to swap seats. In Martin’s uninformed opinion, the Beetle's front, unlike its back, was not made for sexual merry-making – Handbrake and gearstick between seats interfered with any advanced petting.
August, however, was not to be defeated by any design flaw in his Volksie. He got out and shut the door with a bang. Then, he walked around to the passenger side, opened the door, and ordered his partner out. Bending down, August reached under the seat for the catch.
As he pushed the seat back, he grinned at Martin and said, “Sorry, mate. You two have to squeeze together again still a bit more.”
August slid into the seat while his partner, in silent agreement with August’s plans, stood waiting. Once comfortably seated, he reached out for her and pulled her onto his lap. The door August left wide open.
August was either not a believer in lengthy foreplay or thought that he and his woman had been aroused enough by their rear-views during the journey. Soon, and with no concern for the watchers in the back, the two were fucking – in Martin’s youthful, romantic opinion rather artlessly.
Hilde and Martin had, of course, stopped all sexual activity while August prepared for his. Once he and his partner started to fuck, Martin and Hilde could have sat back to enjoy the show.
However, Hilde had other ideas. She reached for Martin’s cock and liked what she found. Pressing herself closer, she whispered in his ear, “God, you are a randy boy; you are hard again! Should we just watch? We could fuck now, just like them? Should we?”
Martin answered by working his trousers and underpants, which he had pulled up before, down to his knees. Hilde, in one swift move, straddled him. Reaching down, she guided his cock unerringly into her slippery-hot pussy
They began by fucking unhurriedly and teasingly as if they had been long-time lovers. Hilde regularly lifted her ass off Martin’s thighs to make the cock’s tip kiss her pussy’s lips and tantalise her greedy clit. Then she sank again, slowly gyrating down to take in Martin’s full throbbing length.
It was getting light. In looking over Hilde’s shoulder while she rode him in search of the sweetest of pleasure, Martin was face to face with August’s woman. She was riding him too, but in looking over his shoulder, her wide-open eyes were fixed on Martin’s. And then, while she shook under the thrusts of August’s quite vigorous cock, she smiled. With her lips sexily parting, she sent Martin a kiss.
In cheating unison, their eyes remained fixed on each other as they fucked. More and more aroused, Martin gripped Hilde’s buttocks to pull them apart and dig his fingers into the crack. Hilde arched back. Her only half-suppressed cries filled the now silent car as Martin continued to ram his cock, time and time again, deep into her cunt. It drove them both, gasping for breath, into a shivering, twisting climax.
Convulsing simultaneously on August’s cock, the other woman had shut her eyes, and her head had stretched up in a silent scream. She had watched Martin and her friend the long trip up to Sunbury in the mirror. And now Martin had, with his eyes consuming her, fucked her in fucking Hilde. For both of them, it was adulterous, mind-blowing sex. As Martin came so hard it hurt, he knew that she did too!
On the way back to Melbourne, August chuckled, “Turned out a good night. I think I’ll have to ring them. They might like a return match.”
Martin was spent, eyes closed, laying back in his seat. August reached over, slapping him hard on the thigh.
“That Hilde has done you right in. We might have to swap partners next time.”
The thought kept August amused, and Martin – he was ashamed to admit – contemplating the prospect all the way home.
Martin never asked or found out if August did ring the women to ask for a ‘rematch’.
Although Martin was then still relatively immature and his ideas about sex were far from formed, he believed that meeting again would have ended in disappointment. What had made their night so special was that they had found each other by chance. No justifications were necessary for them to enjoy their sexual meeting without reservations. With no hidden motives, nobody schemed, and nobody finished up used or short-changed.
What they enjoyed that night was the pure pleasure of shame-free sex with a stranger, free of all the hidden agendas which reduce sex so often to a mere means-to-an-end. If they had arranged again to meet, the magic which their spontaneous coupling had had for Martin would have been lost. The ‘once more’ would have only made what he had experienced less.
Dani
- 11.07.2021
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