I leaned my back against the cold wall of Berlin’s Hauptbahnhof, feeling the chill of the concrete seep through my jacket. It was a warm day, late September, the kind of day where the night suddenly feels cold. The air stank, heavy with the smell of oil and urinea typical scent of this rundown place. My gaze wandered over the deserted tracks, which seemed to vanish into the darkness. It was around three in the morning. The last train had just left, and the first international train would roll in about an hour. The station was nearly empty, just a few drunken students who’d missed the last train, some night owls like me, and security guards making their rounds. Only the approaching click of high heels broke the silence. My heart slowed, as if bracing for something inevitable. Photo Marlene.
Then I saw her. Frau von Flandern. She walked slowly toward me, her red dress clinging tightly to her body, the fabric shimmering in the faint glow of the flickering neon light. Every step she took was a provocation, a promise. Her high heels clicked like a metronome on the tiled floor, setting the rhythm of my growing excitement. My pulse quickened as she drew closer, her presence filling the platform, pushing everything else away. Frau von Flandern was in her early forties, while I was just twenty-two. She had been my history teacher in high school. Her stories and passion for antiquity—and, okay, her body with its full breasts—had captivated me, leading me to study history. During my studies, I reached out to her, and she helped me with some topics and my coursework. I listened as she spoke about her abusive ex, and we shared brief hugs upon meeting and parting.
Once, she had said she wanted to be Cleopatra, seducing the Roman ruler Julius Caesar, “if only for one night.” I understood the metaphor, but her true intent eluded me. Frau von Flandern was a tall woman, slightly taller than me, with strong hips and a large bust. Her blonde hair had an afro-like style, and recently she’d dyed it a fashionable gray. Despite our age difference, she was still a beautiful, thrilling woman in my eyes.
That day, I’d received a message from her:
“I want to see you! I want to feel you, and I want you.
Berlin Hauptbahnhof, platform 13a,
next to the vending machine. 03:30.
Be there!”
I’d read the message several times. I had no idea what she wanted. Sure, I was studying in Berlin, and she lived in Dortmund. If she needed a place to crash after a day of shopping or partying in Berlin, she could’ve just asked. Right?
She stopped in front of me, her gaze stern, piercing. Without a word, she stood before me, her hands gliding over the buttons of her dress. Slowly, almost regally, she unbuttoned it. After the last button, she pulled the fabric aside, revealing her body. She wore no bra, her breasts enormous and soft. Frau von Flandern took my hands and guided them to her chest. Large, pliant breasts with wide areolas and thick, dark brown nipples. I caressed and kneaded them. Her soft moans spurred me on. She grabbed my head, pulling it toward her breasts. “Lick me there, suck on my nipples!” she growled. Then she stepped back, displaying her body, her skin dull in the dim light, a patch of dark pubic hair between her legs.
My eyes stayed fixed on her as she reached into her bag and pulled out a vibrator. She moaned softly as she turned it on and playfully licked it. “Move aside…” she said quietly, taking my spot between the vending machine and the wall. She placed one foot on the bench. Amid the dark hair, I glimpsed deep red labia. She pressed the vibrator against her mound, moving it back and forth against and between her lips. Her eyes closed, as if absorbing the sensation of the penetrating device. She knelt, unzipped my pants, and pulled them down. I moaned softly as her warm tongue glided over my half-erect cock. Her lips closed around it, her tongue teasing my tip, and I felt myself harden in her mouth, as if her lust was infecting me.
Her tongue continued, playing around my balls, and then I felt a finger glide over and later into my anus. It was an unexpected but welcome intrusion, arousing me and relaxing my muscles. She stretched me wide while her mouth worked my cock, from my anus to my balls to my tip. She licked me, fucked me with her lips, kissed me as if I were the only thing that mattered in that moment. In the distance, on platform nine, I saw a guard pause and look our way.
I spread my cheeks, surrendering to her tongue, and she probed deeper, exploring me as if searching for a secret. At the same time, she continued fucking herself with the vibrator, her movements quickening, her breathing heavier. I felt myself on the brink of ecstasy, my cock hard and throbbing. “Now,” she whispered, her voice hoarse with desire. I grabbed her head, pulled her closer, and fucked her mouth wildly, as if she were a sex toy, a lustful object. I used her, thrusting into her face until I came. My seed shot into her mouth, and she swallowed it, her lips licking as if savoring every drop.
She stood, her eyes gleaming with lust. “Kneel before me, oh Caesar! Fulfill my desire,” she moaned. She stood with her legs spread wide before me. Her labia glistened in the faint light, her ass a sealed promise. “Lick my pussy, lick my asshole!” she demanded, and I obeyed.
My tongue played with her clit and slid to her anus, which I licked until it opened. I alternated between the two, my tongue gliding back and forth as she played with her breasts, which hardened under my touch. I ran a hand up her thigh. My middle finger entered her vagina, and with some extra saliva, my thumb penetrated her asshole. She began riding my hand as I licked her clit and lips. My free hand slid up her body, and I squeezed her breasts and rock-hard nipples one by one. Then I paused to let her catch her breath, intensifying her orgasm. Afterward, I licked every fold of her pussy, inhaling her scent—a mix of bitter, tangy, and salty that intoxicated me. I longed to taste her, to savor her essence. She spread her cheeks wider, and I penetrated her with my tongue as she moaned, her hands clawing at my hair. “Yes, harder, faster!” she gasped, and I obeyed, my tongue working tirelessly as she pressed my head against her vagina, moving back and forth between her vagina and anus. I licked her inner thighs, her cheeks, before returning to her clit.
Her juices dripped onto me. She moaned, and suddenly there was a scream… She came, her body trembling. She shook violently, her vagina clamping around my finger. Suddenly, Frau von Flandern became aware of where we were and her loud scream. Startled, she pulled me up and kissed my mouth. Her voice was soft. “You were amazing,” she whispered, running her hand through my hair. “Come to my place tomorrow. I need you.”
She turned, lifted her dress, and showed me her ass. “Come tomorrow, and this is all yours. I’ll have a sweet surprise for you.” My cock hardened again at her words, and she let her dress fall. As I tucked my cock back into my pants, she buttoned her dress. Frau von Flandern kissed me again, her lips warm and soft. “Thank you for this gift,” she whispered before standing and disappearing into the darkness. I remained, satisfied and exhausted, the memory of that night etched into my mind.
