Although my wife Sophia had sent a coach for me, a clear sign that there would be trouble should I decide to drag my feet, I could not head back home immediately. I had a lot on my mind. I was tired, true; exhausted really. However, I kept replaying the events of the afternoon in my head and I began to fear that this time, I had gone too far with Lottie.
The smell of her hair and skin still lingered all around me; the taste of her pussy remained on my lips. I knew that I did her wrong though, forgetting myself like that, hurting her beyond expectations. She was, after all just a young girl with hardly any experience. Her screams still pierced my head as if I was listening to them all over again.
Naïve or not, however, her body was that of a grown woman. Although her thoughts and words were childish, her actions were everything but. She said ‘no’, but at the same time she returned my kisses. Her body responded to mine. And even when she was hurting most, she thrust back towards me, making me completely lose control and do what I wanted to do so bad, knowing I should not have.
I had my coachman drive through dark streets of Hamburg, aimlessly wandering in despair, the wheels hitting the paved ground, throwing me this way and that, the thick cushions unable to soften the rough blows, making my head throb in an approaching migraine.
My toe, which I had so clumsily stubbed on a stair in the cellar was now pulsating with burning pain, which seemed to travel through my body straight into my already achy head. Even my nose, which Lottie elbowed accidentally, seemed to become another center of returning pain.
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I thought about the delicious meal Lottie had prepared for my daughter and myself; I recalled the minutes when we lay in bed, looking at the book, cuddling like a couple of gentle lovers. Each memory that would make me smile, was inevitably crushed by the thought of the pain that I had caused her afterwards, the memory of it punching me in the stomach, knotting it into a burning ball, making my uneasiness grow. Now, the passion and lust somewhat satisfied, my mind gave way to worry and outright alarm. I have had bad reputation since a young man in college. I just hoped that Lottie was too embarrassed to do tell anybody about the goings on that took place in Johann’s house. I could have kicked myself for being foolish enough to leave the telltale book with her. Were she to tell on me, the book might have been evidence, persuading people of her truthfulness.
On the other hand, and I am ashamed to admit I had thoughts like that, but knowing that Herminna and Johann were oblivious to Lottie’s relationship with the neighbor’s stable boy Sebastian, all I had to do was to point out that I had caught them in the act, in the library no less, and all her validity would evaporate. Given half a chance, my friend would believe my word sooner than that of any servant, even his own.
As I was leaving Johann’s house that evening I told myself I would be back. Now, however, my mind somewhat able to function beyond the desire for basic satisfaction, I was not so sure any longer.
I closed my eyes, unable to rest my head anywhere because of the bumpy ride. All of a sudden, the face of my brothers’ wet nurse and nanny Ursula appeared in my mind. Surprised at the realization of her link to Lottie hit me hard.
Of course! That was why I have always found Lottie so beautiful and appealing.
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Lottie was a mirror image of Ursula. Long blond hair, big sky blue eyes and a curvaceous body could have made them be sisters, so similar were they. And yet, I had not put two and two together until now. I have not thought of Ursula in a while.
For a very long time, I was the only child. Only when I was twelve years old did my mother became pregnant again, having lost all hope for a big family that was my parents’ greatest wish. Alfie was the first to inherit my baby crib and my mother was delighted, while my father was bursting with pride. Dimitri followed him in less than a year and when my mother found herself pregnant yet again before Dimitri’s first birthday, she was physically and mentally exhausted. When the twins were born, my father had decided to hire a wet nurse to share the burden of nursing the newborn boys and help raise the rest. And so Ursula entered our household and my world.
Many a times my mother’s petite and fragile body could not produce enough milk for either of the boys and Ursula would end up feeding Wilhelm and Kurt both. I believe she was more of a mother to all four toddlers than our real mother had ever been.
Ursula was a woman who came to Hamburg some years ago from the Austrian country side, where she grew up on a farm, not shying from heavy work, enduring the poverty and desperation patiently until she finally decided to leave home and look for work in a big city, as so many girls and women did before her. She became wet nurse and nanny in a household of my father’s very good friend and when his children were big enough that she didn’t have to wipe their noses and feed their mouths at any given moment, we were lucky enough to have her accept the harsh work in our home.
And harsh work it most certainly was.
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With four boys under the age of three and a budding teenager, who tried to attract attention wherever he could, she had her hands full all the time. My mother was very grateful to let her take charge in childcare and to this day, my memories of Ursula are more vivid and I must say dearer than those of our own mother.
I remember how I would sometimes peer through the nursery door that was left ajar, watching Ursula sitting in a big wicker chair, feeding the babies, exposing her breasts shamelessly to my prying eyes. At that time, I was foolishly certain that she was completely unaware of my spying.
When I was fifteen, my grandfather, my father’s father had become gravely ill and the physicians were not holding much hope of his recovery. Both of my parents were devastated as he was a good man, generous and kind to everybody in his family, loving each one of us selflessly as if we were his own children. My mother and father had spent almost three months practically living at my grandfather’s bedside, reading his favorite books out loud, chatting with him when he was in a state of lucidity and generally trying to ease his pains and sadness that came from awareness that his days on Earth were numbered.
Us children were often left alone at home with Ursula, and besides the fear of my grandfather’s inevitable oncoming passing, I was also bored out of my wits. I had no one to play with as my brothers were too young and I was not allowed to leave the household when my parents were not present. I spent my days reading and practicing piano, roaming around in the big garden at the back of the house, up to any mischief that a fifteen year-old was inclined to.
In those days I spied on Ursula more than ever. Peeping through the door when she was feeding the twins became almost a ritual. I knew that each night, after she had put the boys to bed and bid me goodnight, she would take a long bath in the utility room, always leaving the door wide open in case one of the children would wake up and cry out in fear. She would be out of the bath in a split second, wrapping herself in a big sheet and rushing up the stairs to see to whoever was in distress, her long hair wildly cascading down her back, her big body climbing the stairs with surprising speed.
I would sometimes creep downstairs, squat behind the railing and watch Ursula take a bath, lazily lifting her meaty arms in the air while she poured cups of water over her back.
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Of course, I was aware of my desire at the time, after all I was a young man, as my grandfather had said on many occasions. I would watch Ursula for a few minutes and then return to the safety of my bedroom, where I would crawl under in the bed and masturbate with my eyes shut tight, thinking of her heavy breasts, wishing that it were my lips on the big brown nipples that she so willingly offered to the babies every day.
In the months when my parents were out of the house almost constantly, I became quite obsessed with Ursula. I would follow her like a puppy, sometimes even helping her with caring for my brothers. And each evening, I would satisfy myself with a quick look at her glorious body and afterwards a clumsy satisfaction of my budding sexuality in the safety of my own room.
One of those nights was especially hot, humidity promising the coolness, which the oncoming rain would bring, making me unable to go to sleep. As always, Ursula had put the boys to sleep and had taken her bath. It must have been a couple of hours later that I found myself lying in my bed, still wide-awake. How I had gathered the courage to get up and walk over to Ursula’s room, I will never know. The door was wide open, again in anticipation of any of the little ones awaking.
I carefully walked inside the dark room, which was slightly illuminated by the brightness of the gas lamp on the main street. I crept all the way to the bed and looked at Ursula’s sleeping face. She never looked more beautiful than at that moment. Serenity and peacefulness which she lacked living in our house were making her face appear almost angelic.
I reached out and gently touched her hair, which was covering her bare shoulder.
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I could feel my loins stirring and all I wanted to do was to reach between my legs and masturbate right there, looking at that beautiful face, fondling her soft hair. Of course I did no such thing! The fear of being discovered was greater than the burning desire that was literally hurting my chest.
All of a sudden she stirred and to my horror opened her eyes. I almost screamed in shock, but was afraid of awakening the boys, so I just stood there like a dummy staring at Ursula, while for a few moments she stared at me with disbelief.
Finally, she smiled in recognition and raised herself on the elbow.
“What’s the matter?” she whispered and all I could do was shake my head.
“Can’t sleep, sweetheart?” she asked and this time I nodded. “Are you thirsty? Hungry?” I was neither.
To my great amazement, she threw the sheet which she was using as a cover off her body and patted the space in front of her. “Come,” she said. “Let’s try and go to sleep together. ”
At the time, I didn’t see anything wrong with me crawling inside her bed, pushing my back against her big breasts and belly, clad in a white cotton nightgown, sharing the cover sheet and being cradled in a huge bear hug. I could smell her hair; it gave off an intoxicating smell of herbs and I reached over my shoulder to caress it gently.
“You’ve beautiful hair, Ursi,” I said lovingly and she laughed hoarsely.
“You are yet to give your father a headache, master Konrad.
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” She said and how right she was. “Now, go to sleep. ”
Of course sleep would not come for me. I was in the arms of a beautiful woman whose body was so familiar to me from the glances that I stole when I thought she was not aware of my presence. Her breathing slowed down within a few minutes, soon turning to soft snoring. I didn’t mind, it was quite amusing.
The stirring in my pants that I felt while looking at her before, had now turned into an almost painful hard on and I was afraid that she would awaken and somehow know what was happening, even though that part of my body was turned away from her.
I lay perfectly still for what seemed like a very long time. Eventually the muscles in my limbs started aching from immobility and as I moved to stretch my legs, Ursula gave out a loud snore and squeezed my teenage body closer to hers. I was pinned under her weight now and getting desperate. My cock throbbed in the rhythm with my heartbeat and all I wanted to do was to relieve the pressure, bringing myself to a blissful satisfaction. Again, I was too afraid to do any such thing. Instead, I carefully wiggled myself out of Ursula’s grip and crept out of the room.
My desire for the voluptuous beauty was so great that I didn’t make it to my room. As I stepped out of into the corridor, I turned the corner and leaned on the wall, slipping my hand inside my pajama bottoms, jerking off furiously, occasionally poking my head around the door frame and stealing a look at the sleeping woman.
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How I wished I could have remained in bed with her. How I wished her hand were where mine had been at that very moment.
It had taken but a few moments and I shivered, my cock spitting out the juice, staining my pajamas. I must have moaned louder than I was aware for all of a sudden I heard Ursula calling out of her bed.
“Konrad?” she half whispered, half yelled. “Konrad, are you okay?”
I didn’t say anything, just simply ran to my room and quietly closed the door. I was excited beyond belief, at the same time deep shame flooded over me and I began dreading the moment when I was to lay my eyes on her in the morning.
It was a very unpleasant time that I spent in my room that night. Being young and charged with immense sexual energy, I masturbated two more times before the exhaustion took hold of me and I finally closed my eyes, drifting off into an uneasy sleep, just as the first sun rays poked through the shades that were covering the windows in my room.
I slept very late that day and to my great relief my parents have not returned home at all until the next morning. They have sent a messenger with a note instructing Ursula on certain things, as they would not be returning until at least tomorrow. Grandfather’s time was running out and as sad as that had made me, I was strangely excited, too.
I avoided Ursula as much as I could that day. I slipped out into the garden and spent most of the afternoon reading on a bench that was hidden from view behind the rhododendron bushes. She didn’t bother me, pretending as if I was not even there.
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The evening came and when the darkness started settling over Hamburg I finally gathered enough courage to enter the house. Ursula was playing with the boys in the den, and simply smiled at me when I entered.
“Your dinner is in the kitchen, Konrad. You must be starving!” she said and I nodded. I was embarrassed by the thought of what I had done the night before. As I was turning to head towards the kitchen, I caught her eyes and she gave me a long and meaningful look. Not so much amused or mocking, but rather calculating, as if she was trying to see deep inside my thoughts, weighing something that I was not even aware of.
When she had put the boys to bed and I was certain she was taking her bath, I did not dare to creep down the stairs to watch her. I became convinced that she must have known I had been there many a time before. She was a caretaker of four small children, which probably sharpened her senses and to believe she was not aware of what was going on would be absurd. Even at the tender age of fifteen I knew that to believe otherwise would be simply foolish. Besides, I had a whole day in the garden by myself to think and ponder on what had happened the night before, whether she was really aware of it or whether it was just my paranoia that was driving me mad with terror.
For a couple of days things were calm in the household. I managed to restrain myself from spying on Ursula and as hard as it was, I promised to God I would never do it again. I felt that it was the wrong thing to do.
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Besides, she was very old, at least in my eyes, I believe I heard my mother mention once that she was twenty six.
It was my brother Alfie’s third birthday that weekend and my parents decided to celebrate it, despite their heartbreak over my grandfather’s poor health. Relatives and friends filled the house that Sunday afternoon and even though the merriment was subdued, there was a lot of food to be eaten and even more wine to be drank.
My father proudly paraded me from one small group of people to the next at the party, chatting with friends, letting the women pinch and kiss my cheeks, which inevitably left me embarrassed and with some women downright disgusted.
The party did not last long, however, as my parents had to return to my grandfather’s side and it was in the early evening that the last of the guests had left and my mother kissed all of us children goodbye and hand in hand with my father left the house for the night.
Ursula was preoccupied with the boys as was normal and did not have time to clean up all the plates and glasses from the living room where the party had been. My father had allowed me a couple of sips of his wine that afternoon and I rather liked the taste. As I was wondering through the house, listening to the children’s laughter and Ursula’s baby talk that was audible from the upper floor, I wandered back into the living room and found a few glasses that were half empty. Very foolishly I bottomed up three or four and by the time Ursula returned downstairs I was pleasantly tipsy.
She walked into the room and her eyes fell on me, immediately growing wide in alarm. My face must have been gleaming from the effects of alcohol.
“Konrad!” she exclaimed louder than she meant to. The boys were not completely asleep yet and one of them started crying, shortly to be joined by one or two more. Ursula rolled her eyes in frustration.
“Do not touch anything else in this room, do you hear?” she yelled again.
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I smiled with mischief in mind and stole a glance at the table, where a number of glasses still filled with wine sat.
“Right!” she said and furiously stepped towards me. “Bed for you, young man!” she dragged me out of the room and up the stairs, while I giggled wildly as the whole scene seemed beyond bizarre.
She pushed me inside my bedroom and sat me down on the bed. “Behave, master Konrad!” she said threateningly and stormed out to see to the crying that was slowly subsiding, closing the door behind her.
I sighed deeply as I felt my stomach beginning to knot up in discomfort. I have not eaten much that particular day, despite all the food displayed. After all, I was quite worried about my grandfather and seeing my parents’ concern clearly visible on their faces, made me even sadder.
With my legs still firmly on the floor, I let my body flop back onto the bed, only to shoot back up again as my whole world spun wildly the moment my head hit the softness of the cover.
Fast movement made my stomach turn and I felt as if I was going to be sick at any moment. I had enough time to slide to the floor, crawl around the bed on my hands and knees, and pull the chamber pot from underneath. I was violently sick and the more I threw up, the sicker I felt. My entire body was spasming and my stomach was burning with the acid that was rebelling against my foolish act of drinking.
Exhausted by the throwing up, I sat on the floor, leaning against the bed, crying because I felt so bad, feeling more than stupid. Finally, the crying of my brothers silenced, the door to my room opened and Ursula came rushing to me.
“Oh, poor baby!” she whispered, managing to calm me down a bit, as I was certain that she would storm in the same way she stormed out and started yelling again. She knelt beside me and ran her fingers through my hair. “See? Not good this drinking business, is it?”
I simply nodded, ready to burst into tears again.
“There, there,” she said and helped me up. “You should be able to lay down now and I’ll go and warm up some chicken broth for you. You are more sick than you are drunk, thank God. You drank too fast and now you’re paying a price. It will settle your stomach, you’ll see. ”
I don’t know how long she was gone, for I had drifted off into a soundless sleep, but when she returned, darkness outside the window had enveloped the city. I woke with the first sound of her shuffling feet and sat up. The dry taste in my mouth and burning sensation in the throat reminded me of the laborious inconvenience that my body had undergone probably less than an hour before.
“Here,” she said, carrying a bowl of steaming soup in her hands. She sat next to me on the bed and started feeding me, carefully blowing cool each spoonful before gently pushing it inside my mouth.
She was right, I did feel better instantly. I could not finish the whole bowl, but the little that I had, seemed to have a calming and energizing effect.
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“I am very sorry,” I apologized with sincerity.
“I know,” Ursula nodded. “This is very hard on you. Your grandfather on his deathbed and your brothers being so young. ”
I was ready to cry again, but I swallowed my tears. The feeling of sadness evaporated when my eyes landed on her chest. Her breasts were tightly squeezed into the torso part of the dress she was wearing. They were bursting out of the fabric, and all I could think about was what it would feel like to touch them.
Ursula sat on the bed and continued talking with no particular topic in mind. If she did have a topic that she was discussing with me that evening I wouldn’t know.
All my thoughts went out the window and my entire being was concentrated on the soft whiteness of her skin.
“Come on,” she said finally and nudged me in the ribs. “I got a bath ready for you. It’ll draw out the poison you have drank today. ”
For a moment I froze.
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A bath! Was I happy or was I terrified? I didn’t know exactly. A place of my sin, I thought. How many times have I sat on the stairs, watching her bathe with care? I lost the count already. Too many times in the eyes of God, I was certain. My mother had always been telling me that God was looking upon me and counted my sins. Funny how I always remembered those words only after I had spied on Ursula and then masturbated. The minute the relief came, the thought of God just witnessing my sin entered my mind.
I was certain God had carefully noted my sin of drinking that afternoon, as well as my lustful thoughts of Ursula. I was a little more than a child, with sexual experiences next to none, save for my own pleasuring exercises almost every night. However, my father did talk to me at length about being proper, respecting the ladies, not cursing and such. So, of course I knew I had sinned more than once that afternoon alone.
Oh, sod God and sinning! At this moment, I was going to relax in the nice hot bath and everything would be all right in the morning.
I should have known that Ursula did not miss my lustful glances! I should have known that she would not let me get away with it! However, I didn’t know any better, I was only fifteen. Young, foolish and horny.
Ursula helped me up and led me down out of my room, to the stairs and squeezed my forearm in a firm grip, as I was still slightly unsteady on my feet.
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We finally staggered to the utility room and I noticed that the bath was full with clean water almost to the brim. Not having to reuse the dirty water after my parents or my brothers, which was a custom, was a relief. Come to think of it, I am certain my mother would greatly disapprove of a servant taking luxurious baths every evening, but at the moment, my mind could not work out anything more complicated than a simple task of putting one foot in front of the other. I stood next to the bathtub for a moment, awkwardly glancing toward Ursula.
“Well?” she asked, busying herself with towels. “Are you taking a bath or not?”
For one crazy moment I almost decided I should step inside the tub dressed as I was.
As I did not make a move, Ursula paused and turned around. “Are you embarrassed?” she asked and croaked a hearty laughter. “You silly boy!” she exclaimed. “I have seen more naked boys and girls than I ever wanted to see! Now take your clothes off and get in the tub before you make me really annoyed. ” She commanded and to my great relief walked out of the utility room and towards the kitchen, shaking her head in disbelief and softly murmuring to herself.
I stripped my clothes off in two seconds flat, throwing them in a heap on the floor, entering the tub and trying hard not to mind the water that was slightly too hot for a quick descent. As soon as I sat down, I could feel the sweat beads gathering on my forehead.
She was right; the bath was making me feel better already, just as the soup did. She certainly knew her business well.
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I reached towards the high stool next to the tub, grabbing the small wash towel and a bar of soap that were carefully arranged for my use. As soon as I started soaping the towel, however, Ursula returned and to my great embarrassment knelt next to the tub.
“Let me. ” she said with an air of authority that allowed no nonsense protestations. She took the towel and the bar of soap out of my hands and proceeded soaping my arms, neck and chest, rubbing them with the cloth, then repeating the entire thing two more times. She pushed my head under the water for a couple of seconds and when I came back up for air, rather bewildered, she soaped my hair and washed that, too.
Then came the part, which I had hoped would not come, but knew was inevitable.
“Stand up,” she commanded. I remained sitting and observing her carefully. She would not really make me do that!
“Stand up, boy!” she became impatient. “I don’t have all night, I’ve still to clean the living room and I am exhausted. ” I remained still. “Please, Konrad? Please?”
I have often found that when most embarrassed I tended to try covering it by some remark or a piece of information that I ought to take the observer’s attention off my person. And usually I was quite unsuccessful. In fact, I am convinced that most times I would only make a bigger fool out of myself.
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This time it was no different.
Why I thought about my cousin at that particular moment I could not say for certain, but I believe it had to do with my being aroused and knowing that kind of state in people was inevitably connected to the babies.
“I know how babies are made. ” I said proudly, looking square in Ursula’s sky blue eyes.
“I beg your pardon?” she said, not quite sure whether I was trying to pull her leg or simply being insolent.
She must have decided to ignore me altogether. “Will you get out of the tub, or do I have to pull you out?”
“My cousin says that a man and a woman get into a bath together,” I would not be deferred. “They have to be naked, mind you. ” I noticed that she was trying hard not to smile, or was it to croak her impossible laughter?
“And which cousin is that, may I ask?” She said and this time I definitely noted a chuckle.
“Cecil. But anyway…”
As she closed her eyes, her eyebrows shot up high onto her forehead and she shook her head in disbelief. “Why do you always listen to that foolish boy?”
“Anyway!” Now I was getting impatient. “They get into the bath, like I said, naked,” I emphasized the last word as much as I possibly could. “And if they wish for a baby really, really hard, God gives it to them. ”
There was a very long moment of silence, while I continued starring into her eyes and she was returning my stare without a blink.
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“Master Konrad,” she said carefully, swallowing hard, “I suggest you get out of this bath this very instant!”
As I refused to move, she sighed and pushed herself off the floor, holding onto the bathtub rim. Then she bent over me, placing her hands under my armpits and picked me straight up as if I was no more than a rag doll, making me stand. Of course the reason I refused to stand up was that by that time I had already a firm hard on and I did not want her to see it. I had hoped that if I was to talk about knowing how the babies are made, she would change her mind and leave me alone. After all, my father did explain to me that talking about things such as lust and love with a person that we did not really love was quite improper.
Another thought popped into my head, as I stood there before her, naked as a babe. If she had really seen that many boys naked, I was certain this would not be the first time or a surprise for her, but it was still an embarrassing situation for me.
She deliberately ignored my saluting manhood and with great care washed my legs, first one, and then the other. She made me bend my knees and put my feet one by one on the rim of the bathtub so that she could wash them, too. She soaped and rubbed my back and then my front with the washcloth. Even my buttocks were not spared her delicate deed.
Throughout this entire procedure she did not look or touch my cock. I felt that were she to accidentally brush up against it with any part of her body or clothing that she wore, I would simply explode in ecstasy.
Finally, she straightened up and looked me squarely in the eyes. I felt the blood drain out of my face, still weak from my first experience of drunkenness, I somewhat felt as if I was dreaming.
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“Now,” she said and with our gazes locked, I still managed to see her hand move towards my lower part of the body and feeling the wetness of the cloth touch my cock. “What are we going to do about that?” I gasped and put my hands onto her shoulders for support. No, this was certainly no dream.
I felt the washcloth in her hand slip all around my cock as she squeezed me gently but firmly, making my entire body shiver in a familiar, and yet such a strange sensation. She knew of course that I had no actual sexual experience with a girl or a woman, just as she knew that I pleasured myself on regular basis, practically every day. One other thing that I am aware of now is that she certainly knew that it wouldn’t take but a few seconds to bring me to, for me at least, long awaited orgasm caused by someone other than myself. I closed my eyes and let her take complete control of my body.
While holding my cock with one hand, with the other she gently cupped my balls. True to my fear and probably her prediction, five or six gentle synchronized squeezes did the trick. At first I shivered and then my body seemed to spasm, which was followed by a blissful orgasm, stronger than I have ever experienced.
A few seconds later, as my body stilled I finally had the courage to open my eyes. Ursula was still staring at me, an odd smile lingering on her lips.
“There,” she said and took her hands off me, letting the washcloth drop in the water that by now has become muggy with all the soap used on my body. “You should most certainly feel better now. ”
I nodded, noting that my face was burning with shame.
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I even went as far as to prudishly cross the palms of my hands in front of my now much smaller and somewhat shriveled cock.
“I can trust you’ll be able to dress yourself and go to bed without my help?” I nodded again and she slowly walked out of the utility room. Just as she was to step out she turned back and gave me the biggest smile I could ever hope for. “Like I said, with what you have master Konrad, you are yet to give your father a headache. ”
As she disappeared around the corner into the corridor, I could hear her voice call out to me: “And by the way, that is not how babies are made!”
I felt like a fool! Nevertheless, I was a very happy lad that evening, unbeknownst to me at the time, I was to become even happier in the course of that very night. I stepped out of the bathtub and dried myself off, wrapping my skinny body in the biggest towel I could find.
As I was heading towards the staircase, I poked my head into the living room, where Ursula was clearing the dishes and glasses off the tables.
“Goodnight, Ursi. ” I said and without turning around she waved at me.
“I will be up a little later to check on you. ” She said and my heart skipped with delight.
The experiences of the entire day had left me quite exhausted. I thought that I would not be able to go to sleep no matter what, but the moment I laid my head on the pillow I was fast asleep.
- - - - -
I felt the coach stop and drew the curtain off the window, only to realize that we stopped in front of my house. I sighed deeply.
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I did not really want to enter yet, having no energy to argue with Sophia, which I was certain was her intent.
The dwelling on the past had lifted my spirits up somewhat and for the first time since I left Johann’s house I was able to take a breath without feeling of heaviness. I looked forward to my cozy bed, where I could re-live the entire episode with Ursula, which followed that faithful night, many years ago.
.
