Anonymous - Confessions of an Author

Rita Hellmer is the same girl who was in the bathing establishment when I went there with my Mama into the ladies' department, staring at all those girls and women in bathing suits, and who had told her girl friend, “That little boy starts early!” When Miss Rita, who meanwhile also had become ten years older and more voluptuous (nevertheless she had remained unmarried), entered the room, I did not recognize her and most definitely did not remember her remark. She told me about that herself, and since she thought that I was remarkably well-developed and tall for my age, she honored me with a small conversation.

Since I could not take my gaze away from her, she remarked smilingly to Mama, “He still looks exactly the same as he did at the baths.” She laughed. When Mama was called away for a moment, she turned around to me and said several times, “My, those eyes of that boy … I really should not say 'boy' any longer, and I should take care of not being so familiar with you.” And she took my hand.

I was totally confused. Blood rushed to my head. I kept staring at Rita, who now leaned back into her chair with a relaxed demeanor which was to me the epitome of excitement. She smiled, leaned over to me and brushed the tip of my nose with her beautiful lips. “Don't stare so hard,” she whispered to me, in such a way as to indicate that only I should hear her words.

I grabbed for her small beautiful hand and pressed my lips against it. From the way she allowed me to do this and in the manner on which she released me when Mama returned, I knew for sure that she was not entirely disinterested in me. But at the same time I became terribly fearful that I would give away my secret to Mama and I got up to leave the room. Rita offered her hand and again, though less passionately, I was allowed to press my lips against those divine fingers.

I felt incredibly proud and happy; I walked as if upon a cloud. But, this day had even more in store for me. About half an hour after Miss Rita had left, I was called into Mama's room. “Miss Hellmer forgot her lace shawl and I want you to take it quickly to her home. Be very careful with it, it is priceless.” Hot and cold shivers ran through me. I turned around and went back into my room because I did not want Mama to see my excitement. I told her that I wanted to dress up before I left. Mama laughed. “You vain boy,” she called when I dashed up the stairs, “she may not even be home!”

I had put the lace shawl in the inside pocket of my jacket; once in awhile I would take it out and hold it against my lips. Obviously, I talked myself into the fact that Rita was deeply in love with me.

When I had reached the street where Rita's home was — she had inherited it after her parents died-I had become so excited that I was unable to walk one more step, I could no longer see straight. But soon I succeeded in walking very slowly in front of the houses and when I had finally reached her home, Rita was just on her way out. She acted rather surprised but she called me by my first name. And she looked at me sort of strangely, winking!

She was in the process of leaving, she told me, because she had to deliver something somewhere, but I was obviously so tired that she went back into her home with me and asked me to sit down in a low easy chair. She sat down opposite me. But I could no longer take it. Suddenly I got up, kneeled in front of her and threw my arms around her waist. I felt her fingers in my hair and then I heard how she softly whispered, “Wait.”

When she returned she was without her hat and wearing a long, soft dress which left her shoulders free. I walked toward her and wanted to embrace. “Oh you wild, wild boy,” she said, though she made no move to avoid me. She walked over to the door and secured its lock. And then she permitted me to throw myself upon her and kiss her like a madman. She finally fell down upon the couch, completely out of breath. “But boy, where did you learn all this,” she asked pantingly. I pulled the beautiful white dress down her bosom, causing a few buttons to break off. I tore at the lace chemise which showed the fullness of her breasts and I kissed and kissed and kissed. Then, with a tenderness of which a virgin is incapable toward a man, she taught me the ultimate expression of love between man and a woman; she took me, because I did not yet know how to give.

When I left two hours later, I had become a man.

Chapter Two. THE YOUNG MAN

The next one and a half years of my life were called “Rita Hellmer.” The passion with which I had started my relations with womanhood was so strong and insistent that Rita, during her moments of extreme ecstasy, held onto me tightly and cried out fearfully, “One of these days it might damage your health!” I closed her lips with my kisses. Those were fantastic hours. At first I met her every day right after school and I would leave her only around dinner time. An excuse was easily found: I was playing the piano together with Rita.

Her large home was laid out in an extremely favorable manner. The music room had its own entrance and it was connected with Rita's bedroom by an archway covered with tapestry. Her chambermaid and the cook had no business there and it would not even have been necessary to lock the bedroom door, which gave entrance to the rest of the house. Nevertheless, it remained locked whenever I was there. We also did not have to be afraid of unexpected visitors. Rita knew how to protect herself; she never received anyone unless the intended visit had been announced beforehand. That was her rule. And it should be obvious that any visit during our afternoon sessions was out of the question.

It always took too much time for me to gulp the tea and Rita had to shove the edibles that belonged to it practically down my throat. The cold cuts, the caviar and the candies. But she allowed me, while I was furiously chewing away at these things, to loosen her silken gown, take off her shoes and slip off her silk stockings and then her fine silken chemise which was the only thing left to take off. Thereupon we would sit at the piano. She had invented that one to drive me out of my mind.

A few bars, and then I could not take it any longer. And then Rita would start to undress me, very slowly. She would turn and move with hot desire and I would almost lose all control over myself. And when her delicious-smelling nudity would kneel in front of me to untie my shoelaces, staring continually at that part of my body which stretched out passionately and longingly toward her, I was usually no longer capable of containing myself. I would take her by the shoulders and push her down upon the soft carpet or the silken pillows which she had moved from the chairs down to the floor. At that moment all her willpower would depart from her body, she would throw her arms over her head, her muscles relaxed and any life which remained in her would only be audible because of her heavy breathing. But the moment she felt my hot forehead against her shoulder, she would embrace me wildly and not let go of me. I have never since found such an ardent aftermath with any woman. And the aftermath was usually followed by new desire.

Before I left her, I always had to go with her into her luxurious bathroom. And when we were together in the large tub, in the warm water, we would kiss and kiss till our desire would flare up again.

And when I came home, Mama would receive me with quiet tenderness. She would often stroke my hair. She knew where I came from and I believe that she also knew about everything else. When I had been to visit Rita day after day for a few weeks, Mama said to me, “You will have to limit your piano playing with Rita to three times a week; the other afternoons I will have a tutor help you with your homework, otherwise I am afraid that you will fail in school and we can't have that happen, can we?” I took Mama's hand and held it for a long time, thinking whether I should talk and tell her everything. But my natural feeling of tact held me back. I remained silent. I did not protest Mama's wish to limit my visits with Rita.