When I entered basic training in the Army in Southern Germany as a 20 year old high school graduate, I was no virgin. In my younger years I had been in an intimate relationship with a much older woman who used to live in our house. She was horny and aggressive, and I was mostly on the receiving end. The school girls were much different, giggling and shy. We did a lot of kissing and petting on dark park benches, but I never had the guts to go beyond that. In the Army, some of my comrades were already married and/or had years of sexual experiences with women of their age. So, I felt as a newcomer listening to their stories and was embarrassed to tell them about my particular history. This all changed when I met Gerda. She worked at the bar across the street from our quarters which happened to be one of the few nice drinking holes in the small town. I noticed her the first time I entered the bar a few weeks after we arrived. And she seemed to look at me, probably because I was 6’6” tall and did not look as naive as I really was.
Gerda was almost 6’ tall, a very big Bavarian girl in her mid twenties. Her voluptuous breasts and her beautiful butt were probably the reason why she got employed at this place frequented mainly by soldiers. She wore the traditional dirndl, which typically has a great cleavage for woman with the right set of tits, and she sure had those.
When she was serving drinks at our table, I had the impression that she bent down more as she put my glass down than with my comrades, she also always managed to touch my shoulder or my arm with her nipples, and she always smiled at me so sweetly. Soon she became my companion at night in the barracks when I jerked off thinking of her, her gorgeous tits and the fat ass swinging under her skirt when the walked across the room on very high heels and strong, sexy legs.
After a while I figured it may be more convenient to sit at the big bar rather than at a distant table, because that’s where Gerda’s work place was. And sure enough, whenever she had a free moment she walked over to me behind the bar and we started to talk. One day when I paid my bill, she put a little note under the change money on the bar which said, "Come to the Krone tomorrow at 8”.
The Krone was a hall where a band played for dancing on Saturdays, but typical in those days, only couples were allowed to enter. At 8 p.m. sharp I arrived the next evening, and sure enough, Gerda was waiting for me at the door. I did not wear my uniform, and her tremendous body was barely covered by a low cut blouse, obviously with no bra, and a spectacular miniskirt. We sat down at a table in a dark corner, holding hands like an old couple, had a drink and then the music started.
