I had just returned from visiting my real brother for Christmas, in Boeblingen, near Stuttgart. He was in Radio Company, Seventh Army, stationed in the Panzer Kaserne, on a hill above the town. I loved Ray very much – we were as close as brothers can get. Our Christmas together in a foreign land was very special. We had called mom and dad on Christmas Eve, dad’s birthday. As usual, they were having his annual birthday bash – all the neighbors were there for champagne punch and lots of goodies – our mom was a fantastic cook!
But, now, here I was, back in Ljubljana, at the apartment of the family I was living with while attending the university there. My Slovenian mom, Darinka, told me that my closest friend, her son, Mishko, had left for Vrshich, just south of Kranjska Gora in the Julien Alps, for the annual New Years ski trip. He had left the message that I was to follow as soon as I got back from Germany. He had set out skis and poles for me. I just had to pack a few things in a backpack, get dressed for the mountains and get on the train going north. Kranjska Gora was the second stop south of the border station at Jesenice, on the Austrian border.
The snow was deep in Ljubljana as I strode from the apartment, north across the city to the train station. I paid the few dinars for a round trip ticket to Kranjska Gora and waited in the warmth inside until the time came to board the train.
On board, putting my gear on the overhead rack, I settled onto the wooden bench, taking a spot nearest the window. The window was misty and I swiped over it with the sleeve of my jacket so I could see out. The steam locomotive was chugging and huffing as we gradually picked up speed out of the station. This was a ‘local’, that is, we would stop at every little town along the way that had a train station. As a result, we never did come up to the speed I usually associated with the ‘express’ trains.
The local people, on and off the train, were bright and cheerful during this holiday season. The older people still clung to their faith and Christmas was still a special time for them, a happy and sparkly time for gift giving. Whereas, for the younger crowd, New Years was the special occasion, a time for ski trips and other young people activities.
After a few hours and numerous stops and starts, the train was pulling into Kranjska Gora. I retrieved my backpack from the overhead rack, swung it up and on, slipping my arms under the straps and settling it comfortably in place. I pulled my skis and poles down and carefully carried them off the train, past others trying to get on the train.
I had been here once before, when Mishko and a group of us he had guided, climbed Triglav, the highest mountain in the Julien Alps, in August, the year before. While the streets were covered with snow, I still knew the general direction I should take and set off, striding to the south toward Vrshich. When, the road I was on ended, I backtracked and asked a native for directions.
Fortunately, I was just one street off and recovered my route easily. As I walked along, the road got steeper and steeper as I rose through the lower elevations toward the village of Vrshich. The ski lodge I was going to, per Mishko’s instructions, was a few kilometers above the village, but the trail up was well marked and had been traveled by others that morning. I actually did not see another person on the route except for an older woman, her head and face wrapped in a warm scarf, covering her nose and mouth, with steam coming through the loose scarf as she trudged down past me.
“Bog daj!” (‘God go with you!’) she greeted me, her eyes smiling.
I returned her greeting and asked, “Vrshich?” pointing up the road.
She responded, “Da, da,” nodding her head and continuing on.
Along the way, there were areas where the road passed stands of tall fir trees, their limbs bowed with the heavy snow. They were the personification of ‘Christmas in the mountains”. Then, the vista would open up and long distances of open karst greeted, the gray stone covered with a mantle of snow and ice wherever it could gather. The occasional trail marker, a white spot surrounded by a red circle painted on the bare rock, gave me a secure feeling. Still, no other person on the trail. Then, I realized I had arrived too late to catch the traffic going up the mountain to the lodge to the ski areas and too late to catch the traffic leaving to return to their lives below.
It was late afternoon when I finally got to the crest of the ridge on which the lodge was nestled, just below. I had hiked over ten kilometers uphill with my pack and skis that day. The sun was low and the gathering clouds dulled the light even further. There was no electricity at this level, but I still could make out a soft glow coming from the windows on my side of the lodge as I approached through the softly falling snow flurries which had started during the previous half hour.
There was smoke coming from the chimney on the forward end of the lodge, the end where the big room was, where guests gathered to eat meals and socialize. The big fireplace there was the only heat provided in the lodge. The sleeping rooms in the back of the lodge had no heat and you could see your breath steam as you undressed to slip into your bunk by the soft light of the kerosene lamp hung on the wall of each room.
By the time I got to the front door, the wind had picked up and the snow was falling much more heavily. It reminded me of the blizzard we had encountered when we were here that earlier August when we’d scaled Triglav – yes, a blizzard in August!
I stepped into the entry way and secured the door behind me. Then, I stomped my boots to shed as much of the accumulated snow as I could, before I opened the second door into the large room. There was a roaring blaze in the fireplace and guests were seated about the room, chattering happily, mostly in languages I didn’t understand much of. An occasional word would be spoken which I did understood or someone would say something in German, in which I was more fluent than the Slavic languages common to the area.
I was scanning the room for someone I knew, when I saw Mishko stand and come over to me. He held his arms open wide and hugged me, pack, skis, poles and all. He was obviously glad to see me, grinning like a little kid.
“I wasn’t sure you’d get here today,” he said quickly. “As you can see, it’s very crowded here for New Years. Since we didn’t know when you would arrive and every bed is already occupied, we’ll have to figure something out,” he stated seriously. But there was a twinkle in his eyes, which betrayed the seriousness in his voice.
“Everyone else in our party has already gone to bed,” he explained when I asked where his fiancé, Maja was. He had been staying up a little later alone, just on the off-chance I did get the train up from Ljubljana that morning. That boyish, captivating grin I loved so much sprang into life again and he hugged me again. “Are you hungry?” he asked, “How about a tea?” he said.
“No, I already need to pee and don’t want to have the tea making me uncomfortable in the middle of the night.” He nodded knowingly.
“Yeah, that’s for sure!” He pointed toward the men’s room and reached for my skis and poles to hold them for me until I returned..
I went in and peed in the trough along the inside wall – sure felt good! When I came out of the men’s room, Mishko said, “Come on, time to sleep. You must be tired after your hike. You’ll have to share a bunk. Sorry, but that’s the way it is.” he grinned.
He had already stacked my skis and poles against the wall where a large mass of skis and poles were resting. I hoped I’d be able to find mine in the morning.
Then, it dawned on me. He had said many times before, that, “Above a thousand meters, anything goes!” Well, it seemed I was about to find out what that really meant. I asked Mishko who I’d be sharing a bunk with. He just grinned and said, “Don’t worry about it.”
I need to explain something here. At that moment, I was still a virgin. Yeah, I was twenty-one and had never made love with a woman. So, my emotions were chaotic, to say the least! I did know, from what Mishko had said previously, that I would be sharing the bunk with a girl. Oh, my God! I didn’t know what to do. What if I messed things up and she thought I was just a jerk? What if she wasn’t interested and I came on too strongly? What if she just didn’t like me? What if I fumbled about and she started laughing, in a room with six other people? Oh, God, I was scared to death! And, tremendously excited at the same time. Mishko knew I was still a virgin. I just knew he had set this whole thing up. I was as nervous as a cat!
Mishko told me which bunk I was to get into as we quietly entered the hallway to the rooms in the sleeping area of the lodge. It was the bottom bunk furthest from the door on the left. There were four sets of two-tiered bunk beds in the room, two sets on each side of the door. There were no windows and the kerosene lamp was not lit.
As we opened the door to the room, the dim light from the hallway behind us showed me enough that I could go to my designated bunk. There was a body already in the bunk, but turned away from me lying on its side, with a woven ski cap on the head sticking above the blankets. I knew it was a girl because of the lovely flair of the hips rising from a narrow waist.
I moved quietly to the bunk and pulled my sweat pants and shirt out of my pack. Setting them on the edge of the bunk I placed my pack toward the head of the bunk on the floor and began to untie my boots. I stripped, putting my clothes on top of my boots and pack. I was shivering a bit from the cold, standing there naked. Then I got into my sweat clothes. I carefully slid under the blankets on the bunk, trying not to waken the person laying there, on the assumption they were asleep. They had not moved nor made any sound since we had come into the room.
I soon realized the bunk was too narrow for two people to simple lay side by side. We had to cuddle in some manner. Since the person had already assumed a position lying on their side, I mimicked their position, spooning up against their backside. Again, I assumed this position very gently, trying to be as quiet as I could be.
I placed my arms at my sides, with my right hand resting very slowly and softly on her right shoulder and upper arm. It was now obvious to me that the body was that of a girl, soft and warm. She was much shorter than I, but shapely. Her hair smelled sweet and she cooed gently as I settled in behind her. I lay very still, trying not to waken her, my body held somewhat stiffly. I could feel her soft breathing as her chest rose and fell gently. But, given our positions, I soon realized I was beginning to get an erection. Oh, God! I couldn’t control it. It was like my cock had a mind of its own. I deliberately tried to focus my thoughts on something else, but to no avail – all I could think of was that I was lying close up to a warm, soft woman!! And, would be, for hours…
She wiggled her bottom against my growing hard-on, pushing back against me. My hardening cock was pressed against the crack of her ass and she was making moves which actually caused my cock to sink deeper in that valley between her ass cheeks. This only served to cause my hard-on to get larger and harder! My excitement grew and grew. Wow! It felt good there.
She reached over herself with her left hand and put it on mine resting on her right shoulder. She stroked my fingers and gently pulled my hand onto her right breast, squeezing my hand to her soft, but firm mound. I about came right then and there! She gripped my hand and caused my fingers and palm to massage her breast and to gently stroke in a circle over it. I took over the motion for her and she slipped her right hand down over her hip to rub against my cock. Electric-like shocks were flashing out of my groin. With my fingertips I could feel her hard nipple under her sweat shirt, pushing firmly against the soft material. I stroked my fingertips around her nipple and up over it, back and forth. She moaned. She pulled my hand under her top and guided it to her bare breast. I cupped her lovely, firm breast gently and then palmed her nipple, swirling my hand in a circular motion.
She groaned and twisting her body, put her hot mouth to mine. She thrust her tongue between my lips and laved my tongue and lips. She tasted very sweet. She sucked on my tongue, drawing it firmly between her lips and rubbing it against her tongue. She pulled my hand on her right breast across to her left breast and moaned again in my mouth as she pressed my hand to her chest. Her tongue action in my mouth increased in intensity as my hand roved lovingly over both her breasts, trying to give equal attention to both of these gorgeous, soft and warm mounds. Whenever I strayed over her pointy, firm nipples, she groaned and arched her back, pushing her breasts more firmly onto my fingers and holding them there with her own fingers, when she wasn’t gently stroking my cock though the material of my sweat pants.
Then, she took my hand and slid it under the elastic top of her sweatpants, guiding me down to her downy bush. I could feel her legs spread as she pressed me against her pubic mound, causing my fingers to stroke up and down over her wet slit, nestled within her bush. I had not touched a girl there since I was eleven years old, when Helen Thiel had invited me to touch her there while we huddled in the back seat of my father’s car in our garage one winter’s eve. Helen was more aggressive about such things than the other girls in the neighborhood, but she never was slutty about it – she was always discreet. Well, I hadn’t got any further than to feel Helen’s sparse pubic hair when my father came into the garage to fetch the snow shovel. We hunched down until he left and then quickly exited. We never picked up on it afterward.
So, here I was, ten years later, softly caressing a girl’s pubic hair and feeling further, her warm, wet slit. It was very exciting, very wet and very warm! I tried to remember what I’d read in books about such things, but most books were so vague that nothing of a specific nature came to mind about a woman’s physical structure. All I knew was that there was a place there where a man would stick his cock and push in and out until he orgasmed.
Well, I was familiar with the latter, masturbating with some regularity, imagining I was in a woman. I had no idea whether a woman orgasmed or not or what a woman really gained from the act or how it felt for her. I was not just a virgin, I was totally ignorant of what was happening. All I knew was that I was enjoying it immensely and so was she as she guided me to please her. I knew I was pleasing her because of her reaction to the things I was doing. But, I wasn’t originating anything – I was accepting her guidance implicitly. My whole concentration was on doing what she was guiding me to do.
She pressed my fingers into her slit and thrust her hips up against my fingertips. She pushed one of my fingers into her wet hole and rocked her hips against the palm of my hand, holding it hard against the top of her slit. I later learned that was where her clit was and that she was masturbating herself using my hand to press against her clit. Her hips were moving up and down and in a circular motion at the same time, while she held the palm of my hand firmly against her, with a finger on that hand buried into her pussy hole. I began to understand what she was doing and was able to take over the basic motions on my own. As I did this, her hands, both rose and began to play with her breasts. She slid under her sweatshirt and began to toy with her nipples, pinching them and stroking them as I continued to finger fuck her pussy.
Suddenly, she began to breathe very hard and her body shuddered. She arched her back and pressed her hips up hard against my still-moving hand. She moaned out loud and her mouth sought mine again, her tongue twisting about and sucking on my tongue. Her body was stiff and shaking. It was then I realized that women did orgasm, too. And that I now knew how to cause this woman to orgasm. I assumed it would be the same for all – little did I know!
Slowly, her breathing returned to normal and her body relaxed. She kissed me tenderly on the lips and pressed her whole body against mine. Then, she rolled away from me and, putting her bottom against me, pulled her pants down She reached around and pulled at my pants, indicating she wanted me to pull them down. I did so and my rigid cock sprang out and pressed against her ass cheeks again. She lifted her right leg over my thigh and pushed back. Her hand went between her legs and grabbed my rock-hard cock. She rubbed it along her slit and spread her juices flowing from her pussy all over my cock.
I almost came, but stopped it – I don’t know how!
Then, she placed the head of my cock against her pussy and pressed back. I could feel my cock sliding into her velvet channel. Oh God! This was heaven! Involuntarily, I thrust deeper into her and started to cum. I had lost all control. I just wanted to be all the way into her. My own orgasm swept over me, obliterating any sense of awareness except for the overpowering feeling, flowing outward from my groin, throughout my body. I had never orgasmed like this. Never! I was lost in the wonderment of it all.
As I finally came back down to earth I realized I was still embedded in her pussy from behind, my cock still hard and gripped by her hot sheath. She pulled my hand down and pressed the tip of my middle finger against the top of her slit, forward of where the base of my cock was pressed against her mound. She guided my fingertip into a slow circling motion over a little nub, sticking up out of her nether lips.
As I took over the motion, she reached back and pulling on my hips to press more firmly against her, began to rotate her hips again. I could feel her pussy drawing on my shaft, as if to milk it and pull it farther into her. She was a marvelous teacher, gentle and loving, but passionate. Somehow, she knew to take the lead and we soared off into another round of love-making, bringing each other to simultaneous orgasms – my first such experience. It was awesome…
We drifted off to peaceful sleep, spooned into one another. When I finally awoke from my exhausted sleep the next morning, she was gone. I didn’t yet know who my teacher was. I dressed in the gloom, put my pack on the bed next to hers and went out to the main lounge of the lodge to get a breakfast of sweet tea and cornmeal mush, sprinkled with bacon bits and drippings. This was the only fare available at that time and was commonly served at such altitudes, even in summer. I grew to love it! And still do to this day, fifty years later.
I found Mishko and Maja and sat with them at a table packed with people. There was Muki, a good friend of Mishko, and his very beautiful girlfriend, Anja. Her sister, Anchka, a year older, and also a stunning looking girl, with a fabulous figure, was seated next to them. I had met her briefly at Muki’s birthday party about two months ago. She smiled at me and winked. Wow! I thought, was she my teacher, my voiceless, but extremely capable lover?
After we all breakfasted, we rose to get our skis and head out for the slopes. Anchka slid close to me and patted my crotch covertly. “Thank you,” she said softly, “I will see you again tonight.”
She moved off with her skis toward the door, shaking her butt at me. I was stunned!
That night, we had another bout of marvelous sex and passion, with Anchka guiding me flawlessly along a path of sweet love-making.
Mishko told me later that when the circumstances of my virginity were casually revealed while the group was planning the trip, that Anchka, overhearing the discussion, volunteered to go along and be my teacher. She told Anja that she had never had a virgin before and thought it could be a marvelous experience. Well, it certainly was for me and I learned, for her as well.
We never had sex together again after that. She was engaged to another student and we were not above 1,000 meters in Ljubljana. When we did meet, as we did from time to time, we simply smiled warmly at each other and softly touched with our fingers on each other’s arm, politely.
But, I’ll fondly remember Anchka to the day I die, with deep affection for the loving woman who guided me onto a wonderful path, one imbued with love and respect for a gentle and tender lover.