Ashes to Ashes
- 3 years ago
- 34
- 0
Memories In Ashes free porn video
As I sit here, in a wicker chair on my brother-in-law's front porch, in the warmth of the May sun, I am trying to remember clearly the events of the past few days, though (on some level) I am really trying hard to forget them. I remember the first time I saw the huge luxury-liner that we were about to board for our trip to America and the first time I saw Franz, in his neatly pressed, blue officer's uniform, leading us toward the embarkation stairs.
Tears come to my eyes as I again realize that the world, nor I, will ever see either of them again.
My husband Leonard and myself had been on the voyage as guests of the shipping line. Leonard had ghost-written the memoirs of the company's operations director Ernst Lehmann and his days as a ship's captain and the many adventures he'd had aboard his ships and back during the Great War, flying over England.
We were both writers, my husband and I, but Leonard was still allowed to write whereas I was on the enemies list of our country's current government and a persona non grata. I had been a journalist for the Dresdener Anzeiger but my press card had been withdrawn by the authorities after I had written several articles that they deemed unflattering to the Reich.
Still that didn't keep those authorities from letting us leave the country. We were connected with Captain Lehmann and therefore shown safely in the light of his world celebrity.
Our crossing was a dreary one from the very beginning. It seems as though the storm clouds and rain followed us clear across the Atlantic.
It was dark and rainy, for early May, as we approached the ship which was as long as the Titanic and towered over us as high as a four story building. The outer hull reflected the gloom of the night but the lights within it sparkled at us warmly from the windows as we were greeted by the ship's officers at the bottom of the gangway stairs.
Franz was (to me) so handsome as he touched the shiny brim of his officer's cap, in a casual salute, and enquired of our names.
"Mr. and Mrs. Adell," my husband told him.
"Welcome aboard," he said to us, as he glanced down at his clipboard and the passenger list and made a check mark by our names.
"Thank you," my husband replied, though Franz's gaze and smile seemed to stay fixed on me as Leonard spoke.
Franz took my hand and helped me step to the gangway stairs and watched as I ascended from the cool darkness up to the warmth and light of "B" deck with my husband.
A steward came and told us that our cabin was down the hall on this deck and that our luggage was already in our room. He told Leonard that a cocktail or beer could be obtained down the hall at the smoking room and bar and then he bade us to follow him up to "A" deck where my husband pointed out, at the top of the stairs, the bronze bust of the former president for whom this ship was named. It was warmer on this deck and we could see that the dining area's tables were neatly set with crisp, white linens and fresh-cut flowers and a buffet supper had been laid out for us passengers.
Leonard gathered a plate of beautiful-looking finger sandwiches for he and I and, knowing that I was still chilled, asked the steward to bring us some tea and found a small table by the large, closed window so we could watch our departure from there.
It was bright and warm in the dining room but, in stark contrast, the wind outside lashed the rain against the large window and we couldn't see anything but darkness coming from outboard the ship.
The steward brought an ornate tray containing a silver teapot, milk, sugar and bone china cups in white with blue and gold trim. He used white-gloved hands to set the tray and silver spoons on our table before placing the cups and saucers before us and pouring our piping hot tea.
The tea warmed me and the delicious sandwich filled me as we peered out the closed window for any sign of the docking area. That's when we were told, by another passenger, that the ship had left land already and was heading out to sea. We were so surprised because we hadn't felt any motion and had felt very little vibration and now had to strain our ears to detect any sound of the great liner's engines.
Leonard arose to go back to the buffet table for some of the cold Rhine salmon that he had spotted there and I glanced out at the darkness beyond the window before I heard a sound beside me and looked up to see Franz, that handsome officer, smiling down at me.
"Did you enjoy the departure?" he asked me.
"I'm afraid my husband and I missed it," I told him, wishing (for some reason) that I hadn't mentioned my husband to him.
"We hear that a lot," Franz explained, "because this ship sails very smoothly indeed."
"Yes," I agreed. "I can hardly believe we're underway." Then I asked him, "What do you do on the ship?"
"Radio officer," he said and saluted down at me with a suave grin on his face.
"Busy work?"
"Oh, yes Ma'am," he told me. "There are always messages being sent out by the passengers and officers. Not only that, our radios assist in navigation when we are out at sea. Traffic, from our radio room, never stops. There are four of us working in six hour shifts; Chief officer Willy Speck, Herbert Dowe, Egon Schweikart and myself."
"I'll have to send a radiogram when you're on duty."
"There's a writing room on the other side of the ship," Franz informed me. "You just put your message in the box or hand it to a steward and it gets to me in the radio room to be sent out by radio-telegram."
"That is so interesting," I said, my smile on his.
"If you'd like," he told me, "I'll take you on a tour of the radio room and the whole ship for that matter."
"That would be lovely," I replied, smiling up and batting my eyes at him like a foolish schoolgirl.
"Enjoy the rest of your evening," he said as he saluted me again and walked away toward the stairs to B deck and I watched the gallant sway of his stature as he went.
Sitting alone now, with my thoughts and my tea, I felt a tingling warmth throughout me that, I knew, was caused by the dashing, young officer. Feelings that I hadn't felt in years.
Trude, I scolded myself, what's the matter with you? You're a grown, married woman and Leonard is a good, intelligent, husband and a great provider. Why are you letting this handsome young man turn your level head like this?
I had no idea but I loved the attention that he gave to me. Attention that my monotonous husband hardly favored me with anymore. He was far too busy either working, writing or kowtowing to the authorities in order to keep his career.
When Leonard returned, he hungrily ate his cold salmon and his sandwiches while he looked at the copy of the passenger list which he had picked up from the buffet table.
"I see we have some Air Force officers traveling with us," he said. "Colonel Erdmann, Lieutenant Hienkelbien and Major Hans Hugo Witt are aboard. I hear the voyage is a reward for their meritorious service to the nation."
"Doing what?" I enquired of him. "Dropping bombs on defenseless Spanish civilians in Guernica?"
My husband quickly looked around to make sure that I wasn't overheard by anyone. "Don't say things like that," Leonard scolded me in low, controlled anger. "You know better."
I scoffed at the look of annoyance on his face. "What else can they do to me, Leonard darling? They've already forbid me from making a living."
Leonard now leaned forward in his chair and spoke so that only I could hear him. "Surely you realize that I hate the current regime every bit as much as you do. I just comprehend, as do so many people in our country these days, that you have to go along to get along."
"That's right, Leonard my dear," I replied patronizingly. "That's what the lambs are thinking when they are being led to the slaughter."
"Shhh," he hissed in irritation. "Keep your voice down, Gertrude."
I shrugged and settled in my chair, holding my saucer as I took another sip of the warm tea. "Who else, of the Who's Who, is on the passenger list?"
Leonard sat back and spoke as his eyes scanned the sheet of paper before him. "Birger Brink, the news correspondent from Sweden, is with us, as is Ernst Otto Anders who is co-owner of the Teekanne Tea Company. Nelson Morris, of Chicago, who is heir to the Armour Meat Packing fortune is aboard. Ah, this should interest you, my darling," he pointed down to a name on the list as he told me, "Philip Mangone the New York fashion designer is on the ship with us."
"No movie stars?" I asked, aware that Douglas Fairbanks had traveled on this ship last year, as had Max Schmeling the German world heavyweight boxing champion.
"Sorry to disappoint, my dear," he said, "but Joseph Spah, the American stage acrobat, is aboard." Leonard nodded his head toward the far wall which was decorated with hand painted illustrations by the German artist Otto Arpke, "He's over there."
Looking over, I shrugged, adding, "Never heard of him."
"He goes by the stage name Ben Dova. We saw him at the Wintergarten in Berlin, remember? You reviewed that show for the Anzeiger."
"Yes," I said, the recognition coming to me now. "He played the drunken man in the top hat and tail-coat who was trying to light a cigarette while swinging from a lamppost." I now laughed at the memory. "He was very funny."
"Yes, dear. He was, indeed."
Light supper finished, Leonard and I went directly to our cabin where I was immediately taken aback by its small size. It looked very cozy though. The walls were a textured pearl-gray in color and the two bunk-style beds were covered in expensive linen and topped by thick comforters in an orange-brown hue. An aluminum ladder accessed the upper bed which, I could see, would stow away during the day. Opposite the beds was a clothes wardrobe with a curtain and, next to that, a wash basin with both hot and cold water spigots. There was a shelf and a small mirror above the basin and towels, monogrammed with the shipping company's initials "DZR", hanging neatly below. At the far end of the room was a fold down writing desk and a folding chair to go with it. There was also a button, on a cord, which one could use to summon a steward at any time of the day or night.
Sitting on the lower bed I found it to be very soft and comfortable and couldn't wait to get into it.
"Showers are on B deck," Leonard told me as he hung his jacket on a hanger in the wardrobe. "You can take a shower before bed if you like."
"No dear," I told him sleepily, "I'll just take one in the morning before breakfast."
Leaving me alone, Leonard went to the ship's smoking-lounge, for a nightcap, while I busied myself opening our cases, hanging our clothes in the wardrobe and setting our toilet articles on the shelf above the sink. Changing into my nightgown, I luxuriated in the fresh, open-sea air coming to me through the little ventilators on the wall. I was soon in bed and soon fast asleep.
The next morning I went, in my robe and slippers, down to the door marked BADEZIMMER to have my shower. It was hot water but the spray was meager and I wasn't quite free of soap when the stream abruptly stopped and I had to yell for the ship's only stewardess who arrived to explain that fresh water was a miserly kept commodity aboard ship and that I should be faster in showering next time.
"I'm so sorry," I told the girl in the starched, white, nurse-like uniform, as I held the shower curtain to me in a way that covered my soapy nakedness, "but I wasn't aware of the water situation and I'm all soaped up Miss..."
"Imhoff," she said. "Emilie Imhoff, Ma'am."
"Please, Miss Imhoff," I entreated her, "just a little more water? Please?"
"Yes, Ma'am," she finally curtsied in subservient compliance and added, "Please tell no one that I break the strict rules for you."
"My lips are sealed," I told her and she allotted me just enough more shower water to get the soap off of me before it abruptly stopped again.
Quickly dressing in my white, flower print dress and after applying make-up and primping the curls of my blonde hair, I joined Leonard in the dining room for breakfast. The delicious aroma of sausages filled my senses as I sat, with my husband, at one of the tables adorned with fresh-cut flowers. We were joined by Edward Douglas, a New York advertising executive, and Margaret Mather, a matronly heiress, from Princeton, who now lived in Rome and insisted on being addressed as "Miss" having never been married. Sitting with these two Americans was a good opportunity for Leonard and I to practice our English.
As the stewards came with the sausages and hot, crusty German rolls, Leonard asked Miss Mather why she was traveling to the United States.
"To visit my dear brother Frank," she told us as she spread marmalade on her buttered roll. "I haven't seen him in the eight years since he retired from the faculty of the Art and Archaeology department at Princeton."
"The university?" I asked.
"Yes, dear lady. He's the director of the Princeton Museum of Historic Art now. He's always on about Pharaohs and mummies and that sort of thing."
"How interesting," Leonard commented as the steward filled his cup with hot coffee from a silver pot. "My wife and I are both avid art enthusiasts."
"Then you must come to Princeton and tour the museum," Miss Mather told him and then added, "Where will you be staying while in America?"
"With my brother in Mays Landing."
"I know that well," Miss Mather happily spoke. "That's in New Jersey as well. We'll practically be neighbors. You can surely come and visit me by car."
"We may do that," I told her, cutting a piece of sausage with my silver knife and fork and noticing the beautiful, cream-colored china plate encircled with a dark blue band trimmed in real gold-leaf. The plate was adorned with the crest of the shipping company, showing one of the company's ships over a globe of the Earth.
"Well," Leonard said, setting his coffee cup in its saucer, "Mays Landing is in the southern tip of New Jersey while Princeton is in the middle of the state. We will certainly consider it though."
Most of the rest of our breakfast was taken listening to Miss Mather talk of her world-traveling adventures. Mr. Douglas never uttered one word at all.
After breakfast, Leonard and I walked the promenade and looked out at the wind-whipped sea. The water looked so cold and gray and rolling with whitecaps and yet our ship was making its way without any disturbing movements at all. No noticeable pitching or yawing whatsoever.
I had heard that this ship was the one to take if you were prone to sea-sickness and now I really believed it.
With not much to see outboard, Leonard set out to find Captain Lehmann to discuss the June launching of their American version of his memoirs so I retired to the reading room to write a few postcards to send to our friends back home.
I also filled out a radio-gram for Leonard's brother Karl, telling him that we were on our way and would arrive on the sixth.
I wondered if Franz would be the one sending my message and I could feel the warm tingles and urges enter my body again as I thought of him.
"Ah," I then heard his voice close behind my chair as Franz said, "I see that you've taken me up on my invitation."
I turned to him in confused query. "Your invitation?"
"To send a radio-gram."
"Yes," I smiled now. "It's to my brother-in-law in New Jersey. Will you be sending it?"
"Alas, no. I'm off duty until tomorrow morning. Willy Speck is working the radio room right now, Ma'am."
"Oh, please don't call me Ma'am," I told him. "You can certainly use my first name."
"Gertrude?"
"Trud-e," I corrected him. "Only my husband calls me Gertrude ... when he's cross with me."
I was immediately cross with myself for mentioning my husband, to him, again.
"Very well, Trude. You must call me Franz." And with that he put his hand out to take mine in his and I offered it to him and he bent and kissed it.
I swear I swooned down to my toes and I know that my freckle-specked face was blushing deep red because I could feel that heat in my cheeks.
"What about my other offer?" he asked, still bent to me and looking directly into my eyes as he continued to hold my hand in his.
"Your other offer?"
"To take you on a tour of the ship."
"Oh," I smiled again. "Yes. When?"
Franz let go of my hand and stood erect now. "What about right now?"
Well, I had nothing else planned and Leonard was busy.
"Yes, of course," I said happily. "I'm placing myself in your hands."
Standing from my chair, I let Franz take my arm in his and he led me down the promenade, past the lounge and down the stairs to B deck, where he took me into the bar area and then through a connecting room and a door that opened on a lighted, inner corridor.
"The officers' dining room is through that door," he informed me, pointing to the other side of the hallway, "and the crews' mess and the galley are through that door over there."
"They cook the meals down here?" I asked. "But the dining salon is on the deck above us."
"Just so," Franz concurred, "but they send everything up, to the stewards in the dining room, by dumbwaiter."
"I see," I replied, acting interested but mostly just enjoying listening to the deep timbre of his voice.
Then he showed me a long passageway which, he said, led aft to the crews' quarters, the power generators and entryways to cargo storage and to the ship's engines.
"The Daimler-Benz diesels produce the power of twelve-hundred horses each," he explained with smiling pride. "There are four engines so that's four-thousand-eight-hundred horse power which can move the ship along at a cruising speed of 65 knots. Though I doubt, with the storms and these headwinds, that we are even doing 40 knots right now."
It was thrilling, to me, to see the look on this masculine officer's face as he talked to me about such things as diesel engines and horsepower. I loved it.
Franz then took me along a passage forward and held my hand and put his free arm around my waist to steady my way. I utterly felt like melting butter in his strong grasp and would have swooned to the deck had he not been holding me.
Stopping, he said, "This way is the mailroom and officer's quarters and there is the door to the radio room. Chief Speck is working in there now and we better not disturb him. Beyond that is the hatch to the navigation room and the bridge and, beyond that, the bow and forward landing stations."
"Where is your room?" I asked him but felt the pang of embarrassment just after the tawdry question had left my lips.
"Just forward this way," he said, his arm still about my waist as he turned me to him. "Would you like to see where I sleep?"
My breasts pressed to his large chest and, held in his arms with my face but an inch from his, my mind told me to escape while I had the chance but my lips said, "Yes."
Franz gripped me tighter and then his lips pressed to mine and we were suddenly kissing with hungry, panting passion. A passion that I hadn't felt with Leonard in a long while.
There was no doubt about where things would proceed as I let Franz guide me quickly to his cabin where I gave myself to him completely and we made love for most of a full hour.
When it was over, I realized that I had been unfaithful to Leonard and was now totally in love and committed to Franz in every way.
What was I to do now? I wondered as I lay still below his firm, panting body.
"Franz," I whispered breathlessly. "Do you love me?"
"Yes," he replied and my heart leapt in my chest. "I have loved you since the first moment I saw you at the gangway."
"I felt the same, my dear Franz. It was as if we were meant to find each other at that pre-destined moment. I want to spend the rest of my life at your side, dear Franz."
"But what of your husband?"
"Leonard doesn't care anymore. He has his work and his writing. This new book, being published in America, is going to make him a very rich man. We haven't made love in so long that I can't even remember. He's twice my age, you know."
Franz rose up on his elbows above me and then smiled at me and kissed me before saying, "We better get dressed and get you back to the passenger decks before you're missed."
A short time later I was in the cozy ship's bar and sipping one of their Kirschwasser cocktails while pondering what to do and how to tell Leonard about my new love.
It may hurt him, I reasoned, but I had to start anew with Franz and could not miss this chance for happiness with a dashing, adventurous, virile man closer to my own age.
This was fate, I told myself as I remembered last week's visit to Brussels and our session with Judith Grosemans, a mutual friend of our friend and author Stefan Zweig who had been forced to flee the country. Judith performed divinatory card readings under the name of "Cassandra". She performed a card reading, for us, that evening, predicting that Leonard and I would be in a horrible shipwreck and that Leonard would die a fiery, agonizing death. I saw her flip the card showing a ship battered on the rocks and then a card depicting fire next to Leonard's card. It did scare me then and almost made us cancel our crossing.
Judith was wrong, of course, and I wrote her a postcard, before our trip, to tell her so. I didn't mail it though but left it in my purse to send to her after our safe crossing to America.
However, I reasoned, maybe she misread what the cards foretold and that it was our marriage that would die on this ship and that prediction was now coming true.
At late afternoon Leonard found and joined me and we shared a drink together, in near silence, before going to our cabin to dress for dinner.
It was a custom on trans-Atlantic liners to wear evening gowns and dinner jackets for what they called The Captain's Dinner. I wore a long, white, silken gown that hugged my curves and, I was certain, would attract Leonard's attention onto me. Maybe it was a last effort, on my part, to try and save our marriage.
Angelica
- 29.08.2021
- 16
- 0
