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The novel "Josefine Mutzenbacher or The Story of a Viennese Whore"...
was published anonymously in 1906.
The text is often attributed to Felix Salten, the author of "Bambi."
In an era of sexual taboos,
the book has been read by generations as an enlightening and liberating work.
It was banned until 1968, and in Germany...
it remained on the list
of Writings Harmful to Young Persons until 2017.
Its salacious and abusive portrayal of child sexuality...
continues to be controversial to this day.
At the same time, it is a world-renowned work of pornographic literature.
VIENNA, 25 APRIL 2021
CASTING CALL FOR A FILM ABOUT JOSEFINE MUTZENBACHER
LOOKING FOR MALE PARTICIPANTS BETWEEN THE AGES OF 16 AND 99
NO PREVIOUS ACTING EXPERIENCE REQUIRED
It is impossible to write down everything that I experienced...
during those years that I was a whore.
Yet my childhood memories, no matter how varied and eventful...
they may be, have stuck with me,
and I have written of them here.
In effect, they are childhood memories,
but, of course, of a sexual nature...
and admittedly, not very childlike.
But such memories remain far more deeply and indelibly...
engraved in our minds
than anything else that we later experience.
Please, take a seat.
How lovely,
a former erotic sofa.
Is it one?
Probably, who would have this in their home?
You have the right associations.
Maybe, yes, we'll see.
I'm not supposed to play Mutzenbacher, am I?
Do you want to?
Yes, of course, that would be great.
How would you play her?
With depth would be a little cliché, but yeah...
I mean after everything that I've learned about her...
Well...
A bit more complex,
not like Mrs. Schubert, or whatever her name was,
in that one little film.
Yes, I think...
But how do you imagine Pepi?
She must have been good-looking. That for sure,
based on the descriptions.
Pretty gabby, probably.
And pretty likable. Otherwise all those men...
wouldn't have flocked to her, even if they paid for it.
She must have been an interesting woman.
To me, Mutzenbacher was a kind of Lolita.
Probably not as flirtatious as Lolita,
but she doesn't regret anything, as she herself says.
She denies being purely a victim.
I find that very exciting.
Why?
It's unusual for today...
To be a victim is easy. Or...
Yes, to be a victim of circumstances...
is the easiest thing.
That's why...
those who...
go through it smiling are the heroes.
But they also experience pain.
Good afternoon.
Please, have a seat on the nice sofa.
A new roomer had moved in with us, Mr. Eckart.
Right from the start he was always very friendly to me,
and I would cuddle up to him, whenever I greeted him.
Once when we were alone again, I grew very horny...
and went to Mr. Eckart, who was in the kitchen.
There must have been something in the way I looked at him, something...
that robbed him of his senses.
I stepped up close between his spread legs and smiled.
Suddenly his face turned very red,
he pulled me close,
kissed me vehemently,
lifted up my skirt,
and fingered my slit.
He grabbed my hand,
guiding me, and soon I was holding his tool.
It was so big that I couldn't wrap my fingers around it.
I immediately began massaging this big fiery rod up and down,
and he fingered me...
and kissed me.
We rubbed each other like this for a while...
until he started to come.
I felt it warm and wet trickling over my hand...
and heard the heavy drops splattering on the kitchen floor.
And then I came too...
because while he was coming...
his fingers sped up tenfold.
When everything was over, he sat there startled,
squeezed me in his arms,
and whispered:
"You won't tell anyone, will you?"
Do you know what the book is about?
"The Memoirs of Josefine Mutzenbacher"?
The story is familiar, yes.
What's it about?
From what I heard, she was a...
"noble" lady from the 60s,
according to what I've read,
who was famous for her occupation.
I do not want to be more precise.
With pounding heart,
I rang the doorbell of the landlord's flat.
I was shown into Alois's bedroom...
I was shown into Alois's bedroom,
a big beautiful room with elegant white furniture.
I felt like I was in paradise.
He showed me his beautifully painted white bed and his large divan.
Gesturing toward the bed, he said:
"That's where I sleep."
And gesturing toward the divan:
"That's where Clementine sleeps, the nanny."
Then he showed me his picture books, his toy soldiers,
his toy rifles, and his saber...
and I never would have thought...
...and I never would have thought, never would have imagined,
that a child could have it so good.
A few minutes later, the small, fat, elderly nanny entered the room,
and we were no longer alone, and all hopes vanished...
of playing as we had the day before.
The nanny sat down on the divan...
and began knitting, paying no attention to us.
And we sat at the table covered with tin soldiers...
and played.
Suddenly Alois stood up,
walked over to the nanny,
stood in front of her,
and grabbed her plump, amply protruding bosom.
I was so stunned...
that I just sat there speechless.
She pushed him away and mumbled,
"Come on, Alois,"
while eyeing me suspiciously.
I went over to her,
grabbed her other breast and squeezed it.
It was so soft and wavy,
and the bony cheeks of the elderly, cross-eyed nanny flushed red.
Alois had already taken out his tool and pressed it into the nanny's hand.
She grabbed it and started playing with it.
With trembling lips, Clementine asked:
"What does the prick do in the cunt?"
Alois answered as calmly and seriously as ever:
"It fucks."
"What else is it called?"
And Alois listed:
"Banging, screwing, reaming,
shagging, poking, pounding."
I realized it was a game that they played together often.
Clementine was getting more excited. "What else can the prick do?"
"Tickle in the bum, come in the mouth, lie between the tits."
"And what does Alois want to do now?"
Without waiting for his answer, she leaned back and closed her eyes.
By turns, Alois fondled one breast, then the other,
put the nipples into his mouth,
and sucked with all his might that it smacked.
Alois worked as if he had been trained.
After getting off on first the left, then the right nipple,
he bent over,
and lifted up her skirt,
revealing Clementine's fat legs.
Then, he stepped between her legs,
spreading her thickly-haired cunt with one hand,
and with the other one, he expertly guided his short, strapping tool into her hole,
so that with one shove he was in all the way up to the hilt.
At snack time I was given cocoa, which I had never drunk before,
and when I left, Clementine showed me out.
In the anteroom, she reached under my skirts,
fondled my cunt, and said:
"Now be smart and don't go blabbering about this. Then you can come again."
She gave me a tenner and pushed me out the door.
Does this remind you of anything? Something you experienced yourself?
Well, I've never had a threesome.
I would say that in general, especially as a teenager,
my sex life was not very exciting...
because I was incredibly reserved.
Even if I had landed in a situation like this,
I would have been so...
I would have been so embarrassed or so shy...
that I probably wouldn't have been able to get it up.
Or maybe run away?
Run away, I don't know about that.
I definitely would have been interested, but...
I probably would have been shaking all over,
and unable to move a muscle,
to be quite honest.
How it would be today,
that's hard for me to say. But it's definitely exciting.
I'm married now.
And I would never betray my wife, but I can imagine...
if I were Alois and my wife were Clementine,
then I could imagine...
that we would be open to such an adventure.
You as well?
With me it started when I was eleven. It happened...
while we were playing, role-playing games...
You would touch each other, and that's how it started with me.
Maybe not the way...
adults would do it, but, still...
I was already very self-confident at that age.
I was very open about such things.
I also have a secret about a nanny.
I was in love with our nanny...
and I had...
Yeah, I...
I would secretly smell her underwear.
And her clothes, too, because I was so crazy about her,
but it never came to any touching, closeness, or anything like that...
But did you wish something would happen?
Sure, I had fantasies, but I never...
talked about them or anything like that.
But I was definitely crazy about her, yes.
I had sexual fantasies, so to speak.
Hi Alois.
Hi Pepi.
What are you doing down here?
Looking for something.
Looking for what?
You...
Oh really?
It's pretty dark down here.
True, but there's still something...
exciting about it, don't you think?
What's on your mind?
What's your plan?
I think you know...
what's on my mind.
Do you think we're alone here?
I don't see anyone.
I don't hear anyone.
Well then...
Let's find ourselves a nice spot.
Look, what about back here?
Here?
You don't think anyone will see us?
Not down here.
Would you really want to act out the sex scenes...
of which there are plenty in the book?
I could imagine that. But like I said,
only with a woman,
not with a man.
How young could the woman be?
How young?
Well, just so there aren't any legal problems.
16 plus.
But...
upwards from that I'm relatively open...
in terms of age.
It's interesting, because the casting revealed...
a certain mixture of people who you chose or who applied.
Because I think there are two large groups:
There's the group who really respects you as a director...
or who has no acting experience and just wants to see what it's like...
to stand in front of a camera with a microphone here...
and meet you personally and so on.
And then there are the people who are more...
drawn to the text.
And that has become obvious now, because I'm taken by surprise.
I never thought I would be doing anything sexual.
- Really? - No.
You don't trust me to pull it off?
That's an interesting question, sure I do.
But, like I said, I trust you as a director.
So if I told you to take off your clothes and...
have sex with whomever - with a tree - you would do it. Because you trust me?
Well, at least I'd think about it.
I wouldn't say yes right away.
But I think...
Yeah, it's an interesting question. I think with a tree...
I'd probably say yes...
No, but joking aside, I think that it...
really depends on who the director is.
Because I trust that this will have artistic value.
I mean, this is also a dimension of misuse, me sitting here in front of the camera...
not knowing how it will be edited,
how I'll be represented.
Especially when you read scenes like this, when you...
talk very openly about these things,
you can practically edit anything out of it.
I'll always stay inside,
just take your time, just take your time.
I won't come. Would it be unpleasant if I pulled out now?
Now all of a sudden I'm allowed to fuck you?
Now I'm allowed?
And at first, you brushed me off.
But now I can play with your titties. What? Now you're no longer saying:
"I am a faithful wife."
Are you familiar with the book?
I haven't read it, to be honest.
But you have? Maybe you can tell him a little bit about it...
since you've read it.
I'm not sure how old she is in the beginning,
but it starts when she's a girl...
and lasts until the age of 17/18.
And there is a lot of...
rough sex in the basement and in the attics.
And...
girls, children with men.
Everything is very vulgar and close.
The most common lines are:
"You didn't see anything, did you?"
"You won't say anything, will you?"
And the most common words...
in connection with women are "cunt" and "teats."
With men...
"wood" maybe, and "pecker."
So it's relatively crude...
One thing I noticed while reading... We live in a time...
that is hostile towards men.
And here the women, at least the ones in the book,
seem to have still had their fun with men and with masculinity and...
physical exchange.
In the times we are living in now,
that has become completely lost, because you only hear about...
the assaults that men commit and...
the darker sides in every form.
Here,
they appear to have had fun with men.
That's a very interesting aspect.
Can you give an example of how you experience this hostility towards men?
Yes, you experience it mainly through the media...
or through...
It occurred to me today that we have the concept of toxic masculinity
but not the concept of toxic femininity.
And you only talk about...
the toxic in men.
And everything else gets pushed aside.
Take flirting, for example,
that's what you used to call it.
That's gone now.
But also because...
you can't be sure if it's going to come back and bite you.
So...
But they still had fun,
from the perspective of the woman toward a man.
These days women don't go running around saying: "I'm having fun with a man."
Well, I don't know of any.
You don't either?
I do.
That would be very sad.
I have one more question.
Who would you play, since you've read it,
if you could choose? And what role would you give your colleague?
Yes, well,
the only role I could play is the boy who says: "I can't."
She takes a boy down to the basement, a kid from the neighborhood.
And she tells him: "You have a prick, so, of course, you can."
And he says: "I can't, I can't"...
and leaves the basement without having sex with her.
That would be the only role I could offer to play as an actor.
Oh my God, oh my God, you're poking my stomach.
Ah... I can't take it, I'm coming every second...
Now... Now... I just came again, ah...
that's so good... Hold back a bit... don't come yet.
Jesus. If my husband could fuck like this...
Ah, that's so good. No one's ever done it to me like this.
I can feel it all the way up to my mouth.
If I'd known how good you are, I would have put out ages ago...
I would have put out ages ago.
I'd have to be a fool not to let a man like you into my pants.
I'm coming again...
Harder, harder...
No one can do it like this.
When my husband fucks me, I don't even come.
My husband, he just doesn't get it.
You know, he can't hold back.
He gets up on top of me, sticks his prick in and comes.
I'm always so horny after he has fucked me...
that I have to do it with my hand...
I've often thought, it's got to work with him!
The second time around he'll need longer and then I can come.
But...
he can't get it up for a second round.
Only sometimes, when I jerk him off hard and take it in my mouth...
Yes. The things such a man can get you to do.
I can't help it. Just so he can get it up...
I've taken it into my mouth a few times, but in vain.
When he finally got it up and I quickly stuffed it back in...
Bam...
he came right away, and again, all the excitement was for nothing.
Sorry.
Do you talk while doing it?
No.
Oh, wait - doing what?
Oh, doing it... sure.
Like this...?
Well...
No.
A bit different.
We do talk though, sure.
Why talk? What good is it?
Why do you talk when you're doing it?
It just comes naturally, actually. You just talk about it.
"Should we do it like this or like that?" "Another way this time?"
"How do you feel?" "Do you want it harder?"
"Less hard?"
Things like that.
Because here, talking is part of the pleasure.
Yes, yes, exactly.
Well, some people don't talk.
Yes, true. And some turn off the lights...
Everything is possible.
I prefer talking.
"Sweetie, angel, honey,
sweetheart, beloved."
"Sweetie, angel, honey,
sweetheart, beloved."
"Sweetie, angel, honey, sweetheart, beloved."
Right from the beginning during the post-war years...
we would go to Hirscheninsel, to the nude beaches.
And you would casually walk around naked.
Back then, sexuality was different.
It didn't bother me, it didn't bother anybody.
One wasn't put off by it in any way.
Which brings us back to sexuality... Before, everything was more open.
Today everything is so artificial and so inhibited, so...
That's how it is,
it gets pushed into a corner...
and somehow criminalized.
All under the motto: "It's against the rules."
"It's bad, it's...
shameful, it's yucky, it's gross. Don't do it."
When I was 20 I used to hang out with a friend in Vienna, he was a barber.
He had an uncle, who was a bricklayer...
who didn't just specialize in bricks,
and so women would go to him,
not to get their bricks laid,
but to get laid themselves.
Yes, but that was back then. But today?
It's still the same today, you'll find people for sure...
At my age I'm not so interesting anymore.
But when I was 40, 45 years old,
women would approach me,
the slightly older ones,
and they would lift up their skirts and ask:
"Do you like what you see?
Want to see more? My old man can't get it up anymore,
come over to my place, he'll watch us screw."
So we went there and made this young,
or older woman happy.
Well, that was the older generation, but in this book it's purely...
a childlike or a childish way of living...
Through the bricklayer, I met a woman once,
and she had a 14-year-old daughter.
"Come to my place and we'll take some photos, okay?"
Well, the first thing she did was take off her clothes.
So I took a few photos, and she said: "Of my daughter, too, please."
"Sure." And then...
my friend said: "There are other things we can do too."
"These nipples need to shine, I'll wet them for you" and he sucked on them.
She said:
"Please stop, or my husband will suffer tonight."
"No," he said, "we're not gonna wait that long."
And then we did it.
And her daughter: "Can I join in?"
These things happen too.
You just have to find the right people...
Okay?
The Locksmith's Apprentice.
My father was a dirt poor saddler's helper,
who worked in a shop in Josefstadt.
We lived far out in Ottakring in a new tenement building...
that was filled from top to bottom with poor tenants.
All these people had lots of children,
and in the summer the yard was too small for them.
I myself had two brothers,
both were slightly older than me.
My father, mother, and us 3 kids lived in a flat with a kitchen and one room...
along with a roomer.
There were dozens of these roomers in succession.
They came and went, some peacefully, some in disagreement.
One was a locksmith's apprentice, a dark-haired, sad-looking fellow...
with very small, black eyes whose face was always covered in soot.
We children were afraid of him.
He was always quiet and hardly said a word.
I remember him coming home one afternoon...
while I was alone in the flat.
I was five years old and sat playing on the floor.
My mother and two brothers were at Fürstenfeld,
my father had not come home from work.
The locksmith picked me up off the floor and sat me on his lap.
I wanted to scream, but he whispered:
"Be quiet, I'm not gonna hurt you!"
And then he leaned me backwards, lifted up my little skirt,
and looked at me, while I lay naked on his knees.
I was so afraid of him, but I remained very still.
When he heard my mother, he quickly put me back down...
and went into the kitchen.
A few days later, he came home early again...
and my mother asked him to watch me.
He promised, and again held me on his knees the whole time,
gazing at my bare torso.
He didn't talk, but just stared at that one spot...
and I didn't dare say anything either.
This happened a few more times while he was staying with us.
I didn't understand any of this and, like most children,
didn't give it much thought.
Today, I know what it meant,
and I often call that locksmith's apprentice my first lover.
He interrupted me:
"So you didn't want to do it and it was only involuntarily pleasant, correct?"
"Yes," I nodded.
"Please doctor," the inspector turned to the doctor,
"would you examine the child?"
I had no idea what I was in for...
when the doctor asked me to climb onto a high chair.
He lifted my skirt, grabbed my cunt and spread my lips with his fingers.
Then I felt him sticking something hard inside and pulling it back out.
"Yes, it's true," he said. "The child has had intercourse."
Embarrassed and confused, I got down from the chair.
"Mr. Mutzenbacher," the inspector said in a serious tone:
"I am very sorry you have to hear such sad news.
It is deplorable that an irresponsible and confused priest...
took your daughter's innocence.
Take solace in that she is young. No one will find out about this.
And through a strict moral upbringing
you will hopefully prevent any bad consequences."
That was great. In the beginning, dry.
My German is not so good, but I still thought...
even I could read it better.
But then you were totally into in. You killed it.
I had to warm up to it.
But back to the story, I think that is something that...
could have happened in the 60s and 70s.
Or did happen.
You hear about these things...
in children's homes and seminaries...
- Seminary students, etc. - Exactly.
And lots of cover-ups.
So,
if it was normal during the 1960s,
what would it have been like in the early 20th century?
Yes, I've heard stories. I live out in the country and there,
70-year-old grandmothers tell me about their school days when they were 12, 13,
and teachers checked to see if they had breasts.
That was perfectly normal.
- Checked! - Yes.
It's unthinkable today, thank God, but back then...
There was obviously a sense of wrongdoing. Why the examination otherwise?
With an inspector and a doctor.
Even back then people knew it wasn't right.
But this examination of the child is absurd.
Why?
In front of the police, in front of the father...
Today, that would be unthinkable.
It's done with a doctor and that's it.
And probably with a female confidant besides.
The police is not in the room and just gets a report.
I think she was caught up in this scene,
she experienced something...
that she didn't perceive as bad at the time.
It didn't become bad until afterwards, with all the questions.
Yes, that's when the victim blaming starts,
with all the questions from the inspector.
Whether the girl herself was to blame.
It was always the girl's fault anyway.
Either her clothes were too skimpy or she was too...
It was always like that. It wasn't like it is today...
that he ends up in prison...
It is still like that today.
Well,
she only realizes afterwards...
that this is something that is generally regarded as negative...
and starts to think: "What answers do I give?"
- Which answer should... - What does he want to hear?
Exactly, what does he want to hear?
It turns into an interrogation...
in which she also realizes, that she...
cannot tell the truth.
Especially with her father listening, right?
Exactly, yes.
That means that...
whether intentionally or not, she was being led.
I don't think it was intentional,
they probably just didn't know any better.
This girl definitely came out of the examination thinking:
"Maybe it was my fault."
Yes, but the father was a pig, too.
He did it as well, and...
The father was no better than the guy who did it.
They are like in "Dogville", they're all pigs.
They all took advantage of her,
and in the end she made the best of it.
She didn't suffer.
Everyone tried to tell her: "This is not okay,"
but they also tried to abuse her.
Every one of them. Including her father.
And when she was 17 or 13 or 18, she just made the best of it.
Because...
she is a fighter...
and a sensualist, and she is great, the little one.
She didn't end up damaged because of it.
But if she had stayed in her village,
she would have been damaged...
and become really nothing.
Probably also beaten by her husband and whatever else.
But no, she didn't do that. She...
That's a very free interpretation.
- It's my opinion. - Okay.
So, you may start.
The next day, after going to see the inspector,
my father said to me:
"I wanted to give you a proper beating...
because you're such a filthy pig."
I was shocked: "But it wasn't my fault!"
"Well," he growled, "I suppose you're right, that son of a bitch."
After a while he said:
"What's done is done."
And after a short while:
"But, from now on, I'm gonna keep an eye on you, understand?
You'll go nowhere without my permission,
and,"
he faltered...
then shouted:
"And from now on,
you'll sleep here!"
He pointed at Mother's bed.
So from that night on, I slept in the bed next to my father.
A few nights later I woke up,
I had been sleeping soundly and was awaken by his touch.
He lay close to me, had...
uncovered my breasts, and was playing with my nipples.
He played with them so quietly, so tenderly,
that both grew hard and stiff.
I pretended to be asleep.
A tremendous curiosity overcame me as I wondered what he would do with me.
I already suspected what he would do, but I was terribly ashamed,
and besides, I wasn't sure if this wasn't some kind of new test.
I kept very still.
Suddenly he lifted the blanket and raised my shirt.
My heart pounded loudly with fear and lust...
because I still believed it was some sort of test.
It was a vague, dull notion...
that took control of me along with my sensual excitement.
But as his hand...
touched my slit,
I couldn't help twitching, and he stopped suddenly.
I pretended...
to be unaware of his actions,
snoring quietly. He swung himself between my legs...
propped himself up on his arms, and got up on top of me...
without touching me except with the...
tip of his cock.
I could not contain myself, I was so overcome by horniness.
He moved up and down,
pressing his hot tool...
quietly against my cunt.
I continued...
to snore.
He kept his tool at the opening of my pussy,
quietly rubbing it back and forth, and making me incredibly horny.
I expected,
I hoped that any moment he would finally stick it in.
At that point he discharged.
My hair and belly were doused with the warm flood.
Immediately afterwards, he moved away from me,
quietly and carefully, so that I wouldn't wake up.
Only now did I realize exactly...
what my father's intentions with me were.
Hot. Nice.
Incest.
Natural.
Yes...
Above all, well written, I think.
Did you like it too?
I would say one needs some...
time in order to digest the whole thing.
Really?
- I think so, yes. - I don't anymore, I know it too well.
Yes...
But that is the nice thing about...
one of us being older and the other, younger.
Tell him something.
What?
Then tell him something.
How I would do it? Or...
what I know from my own experience?
- What it was like for me? - Exactly.
Well, with me it was totally different.
Even as a three-year-old, at the boarding school...
run by friars...
I always wondered...
why the other boys weren't doing the same thing under their blankets?
And...
I waited for them to start playing with their...
tiny ding-a-lings,
but they never did, and...
that made me wonder why this was happening to me.
Because...
if you are the only one,
you start thinking it's strange.
But since it made me happy, I knew it couldn't be wrong.
That's understandable.
And that's...
why it started so early with me.
And I also just let it take its course.
So for me it was never...
anything that made me feel alienated.
Because the night came at the end of every day. It was always there.
Nowadays it's no longer as dramatic, sadly.
Because there was also this wonderful feeling of pleasure.
And did your parents find out about it?
That's none of my parents' business.
I never felt it was something my parents...
had to know about.
But at some point, I can imagine that...
Only when I was seduced,
when someone wanted to seduce me,
then I felt the urge...
to tell my mother.
Because then it wasn't just my fault, there was this other person too.
But my mother let me sleep in her bed for a long time.
Between my parents.
And I remember...
when I was getting older, maybe 8 years old,
and I used to press myself hard against her.
Then I wasn't allowed to do that anymore.
She wouldn't let me sleep in their bed after that.
Well, everyone experiences it differently.
I have to say that improvisation is pretty difficult for me.
I'd be willing to read aloud, but...
I don't have a lot of experience with improvisation.
Okay, then just watch him and he'll do it alone.
Ah, c'mon.
It's difficult.
But it's only about sexuality. Everyone has it.
Yes, but maybe it's my moral index finger piping up...
and says that...
The way it's described in the book and how...
Yes...
Sure, you could say, okay, she likes it and later she evolved and...
was able to integrate it into her sense of "womanness"...
and in the way...
she dealt with men,
but I personally can't get the moral aspect out of my mind.
I can't turn it off.
Yes.
I just don't find it cool...
when little children, little girls are abused.
And that's simply how it is, in this story.
Of course, you can always direct the focus elsewhere.
Because it's not only that. Maybe this is just a small excerpt,
and then it goes on to how she develops and so on...
But I probably automatically transfer those things...
onto events that might actually happen in real life.
Now it's going to get difficult, gentlemen.
You've already memorized the first part. Should we do it again?
Okay, let's do it again.
"What does the prick do in the cunt?"
"It fucks."
"What does the prick do in the cunt?"
"It fucks."
"What does the prick do in the cunt?"
"It fucks."
Now for the next part. Question: "What else is it called?"
"Banging, screwing, reaming, shagging, poking, pounding."
It's never going to work.
- I'll read it again, okay? - Yes, please.
"Banging, screwing, reaming, shagging...
You mean ramming. Ramming.
Reaming.
It says "reaming."
Is ramming better?
Reaming!
- It's literature, we can't change it. - Ah okay, literature.
Reaming. So... "Banging, screwing, reaming,
shagging, poking, pounding."
- We could start like this... - I can divide it up, first I can ask:
"And what else is it called?"
And then come the first three. And then I ask again, "and what else?"
Aha, I see. Yes, we can try that.
That would be a little easier.
Did everyone in the back hear that?
No!
No? I'm going to tell this side how the sentence goes again.
Once more.
The first sequence is:
"What does the prick do in the cunt?" he asks.
Then everyone says: "It fucks."
"What else is it called?" he asks,
and then, memorize:
"Banging, screwing, reaming, shagging..."
And what else?
"...poking, pounding."
Let's try it once all together!
"Banging, screwing, reaming, shagging, poking, pounding."
Again.
"Banging, screwing, reaming, shagging, poking, pounding."
Now try it alone.
"Banging, screwing, reaming, shagging, poking, pounding."
Wow.
If nobody looks at him, you can stay there. You're not in the picture.
Okay?
Okay.
Don't look at him.
He is one of you.
All right?
Ready? Sound is rolling, camera is rolling.
"And what else?"
"Banging, screwing..."
No, no, no, no, sorry, wrong.
We're starting from the beginning.
We're doing the whole thing.
It starts with: "What does the prick do in the cunt?" Okay?
1, 2, 3.
"What does the prick do in the cunt?"
"It fucks."
"And what else?"
"Well, how about it?" he asked.
That's what they all asked.
And I said: "Should I walk on ahead? It isn't far."
"No," he said, "I don't want to go to your place."
"Fine," I said smiling,
since I was prepared for that too.
"We'll stay here then."
"Here?" he said, surprised.
"Yes," I reassured him. "On the stairs, no one lives here,
we can do anything."
He didn't want that either.
"Come to my place!" he commanded. "You'll be paid handsomely."
He saw me hesitating and added: "Like never before.
I pay better than everyone else."
He impressed me and struck me as trustworthy.
"Fine," I said, "but you have to give me the money up front."
"At my place," he urged, "you'll get your money...
as soon as we walk through the door."
We left the gate together,
and after walking down several small streets, he hailed a carriage.
We got in and as we drove away, he asked:
"You probably think I want to fuck you, right?"
I gave him a coquettish smile: "Well, what else?"
"I want something else entirely," he said mysteriously.
I couldn't help smiling and tried to act smart:
"Aha, I know," I said.
"Well what then?" he teased back.
"Perhaps in the mouth?" I guessed.
"No," he said smiling. "What are you thinking!"
"From behind?" I guessed again.
He shook his head.
Then I thought maybe he wanted to be treated like the young man...
we thrashed with birches.
"Would you like to be whipped?" I guessed again.
"Oh Lord, you know your stuff!" he said.
"No, not that either."
"Well, then I really don't know." I gave up.
"I want to photograph you," he said.
"Photos?"
"That's right, to photograph you nude, in all sorts of different positions."
I laughed.
I'd never been photographed before and thought...
I would get some nice pictures of myself.
Nice, thank you.
Did you take nude photos, too?
Yes.
Positions, too?
Poses yes, I wouldn't say positions, but...
certain poses, yes.
But it was not about...
Sorry, we have to start again. Could you ask the question again?
There was an airplane.
Ah, there was an airplane.
Did you shoot nude photos, too, positions, porn...?
Well, not porn,
but nude photos, yes.
Nude photos yes, and...
it's a delicate matter, you know?
But most of the time you play with shadows...
so that you...
show less and allude instead,
you leave more in the shadows.
The movement from light to dark has to be good.
It's such a meticulous task to get the lighting right,
and it isn't like with Rembrandt, where you just have...
a white patch on the face, and the rest is in the shadows.
It's much more complicated with nudes.
And every woman is totally different.
My God, you can't learn a thing, because every woman...
has a different body,
it works totally different with the lighting.
And it also takes forever. If you do a good job, it takes up the whole day.
So when I did it, we would spend hours...
in the studio. With lunch in between and so on.
Who were your customers?
Well...
Women,
adult women.
One who... um...
I can't really say, because you can draw your conclusions, but...
Women...
who trust a photographer...
and who feel that with him they are in good hands,
who are probably searching for a part of their own identity in the photo.
And they...
might do it once or twice in their life. Those were my customers.
They don't come once a month to do this kind of nonsense.
Yes...
Very different, yes.
Did they do it for themselves or for a man?
These ones did it for themselves.
They always left the man out.
They always had one somewhere in the background,
but he never came with them to the studio.
Thank God.
A new position.
Lie down, Albert.
Melanie...
go stand over him,
lean forward.
Albert, take her breast in your hand...
hold it still with your hand or I'll have to come help you.
I'm starting over because it's about his hand actually.
It's not her breast he's supposed to hold still but his hand.
I'm starting again, okay?
New position.
Albert, lie down...
Melanie, go stand over him,
lean forward.
Albert, take her breast in your hand...
hold your hand still...
or I'll have to come help you.
Peperl, now take his tool and stick it in.
But don't let it out of your hand.
Not so deep Melanie.
You have to see Peperl's hand.
That's good.
How often have I explained to you...
that we're only doing positions... it's called "just pretending."
Pretending is permissible,
but I would never allow my wife to be fucked by another man.
Look at the camera...
smile!
Pepi, you too.
Now...
one...
two...
three...
four...
five...
done!
It was a summer afternoon, but inside the large rectory...
I was enveloped by a holy coolness and silence that filled me with awe.
I read the nameplates on the doors...
and knocked on the one that said: "Father Mayer."
He opened the door himself.
I politely greeted him: "Praised be Jesus Christ."
"Forever, everlasting," he answered.
I kissed his warm fleshy hand, and he closed the door.
"Come," he said.
We knelt side by side on the kneeling bench and said the Lord's Prayer.
Then he led me by the hand to the grandfather armchair and sat down.
I stood in front of him, leaning against the desk.
"Well," he said, "I'm listening."
But I kept quiet and in my confusion didn't know where to start.
"Well, tell me!"
I remained quiet and looked at the floor.
"You know you have sinned - unchastity - a deadly sin, you understand?
And with your own brother - incest."
I heard this word for the first time and began to tremble.
He continued:
"Perhaps you're damned, and have forever forfeited your salvation.
If I am to save your soul, I must know everything exactly."
His voice was quiet and hesitant as he spoke.
And it made such an impression on me that I started to cry.
"Don't cry," he commanded.
I sobbed.
He spoke more gently.
"Come, child, don't cry.
Everything will be all right. Just tell me."
I wiped away the tears, but still couldn't speak.
He lay his hand lightly on my breast,
which was already sticking out beneath my blouse.
I felt the warmth emanating from him, and it calmed me.
"It is the work of Satan," he continued,
"that he would give a child the breasts of a woman."
Meanwhile, he took my other breast, and was now holding both.
I saw nothing wrong with this,
but listened to him, full of excitement and edification.
"Women must hide their teats!" he said.
"They have to remain hidden and be tied up so as not to excite men.
These teats are instruments of lust.
God gave them to women, so that they may nurse their children,
but the devil made them into a toy for the unchaste."
"So, how did it all happen?" the Father asked me again.
But again, I couldn't speak.
"All right," he said gently, "I understand."
"Your heart is pure, and it shames you to speak of such things.
If you can't speak, you'll show me through gestures...
what it is that you have done!"
"I will, Your Reverence," I promised gratefully.
Placing...
my thighs on his shoulders, his mouth approached my slit and...
I could feel his hot breath against it.
Oh, how I enjoyed it...
when I felt his thick hot lips on my labia...
when he - with his soft, hot tongue -
licked my cunt from top to bottom.
A feeling I'd never known before made me tremble.
I'd never experienced such pure delight.
It was I who usually serviced men with my mouth.
This brave priest was the first man...
to lend me his tongue.
I twitched my buttocks and tightened my man-trap.
He lifted his head and asked me:
"Do you like it?"
Trembling with desire and wishing for more,
I quickly answered, "Yes, Your Reverence."
Again he began running his tongue over my hole and over my lustful snatch...
so delicately that the delight I felt was painfully gratifying.
"This cleanses you," he said.
"This cleanses you of everything."
He then began to work on my clit.
I felt as if every sensation were suddenly down there, my mouth, my...
nipples, the inner core of my cunt.
Wherever the tip of his tongue touched me,
electricity seemed to shoot through my body.
It took my breath away.
The room was spinning all around me and I closed my eyes.
He slipped in deeper and drove...
his tongue into my opening.
My bum danced a Czardas on the desk.
What was fucking compared to such stimulus!
One can imagine what men thought and how they took advantage, thinking:
that's how it is and I'll do what I want...
and whatever makes me happy.
I can imagine that.
But today, many men claim that women are too strong, and that makes them impotent,
they can't do it anymore and they're weak.
That's total bullshit.
Of course, one's gaze changes.
If you're with the same partner for 30, 20, 40 years,
your gaze can change.
But...
you can always find new ways of looking at this person...
because everyone grows, everyone develops,
everyone has new sides, and everyone can find themselves, and...
an old body is just as beautiful as a young body...
if you treat the old body...
accordingly with respect and love. That's all.
If we look at this Mutzenbacher from today's perspective...
Of course, it's a portrayal of evil men, who exercise power,
whether it's the father, the chaplain, the priest, or whoever...
The brother...
But she always adds that she, too,
feels pleasure. That she also feels joy.
And maybe it's an apology for men...
and that is bad, right?
Or I don't know if it's bad, but...
it gives the impression that the novel was written for that purpose.
In order to excuse men for the evil deeds they do.
You can see how they tried to do that...
by whitewashing...
Yes, yes, it's a joy for the women...
...and poeticizing her sensations because you want to believe it.
Which suggests it was written by a man after all.
But it is a male fantasy to screw a little girl.
I think it's inside everyone.
No, not in everyone. Definitely not. No.
And particularly in those who dispute it.
I don't want to insinuate anything...
The idea never even occurred to me...
Only in your imagination.
I wouldn't even find it interesting.
No, it's not about executing the fantasy.
It's about how the spark...
of this thought exists in everyone...
and you immediately put up a barrier.
- That's how it is. - No.
That's how I would describe it.
- Not with a child, not with a girl. - You can't, sure.
Not even a feeling, not even a spark.
I can't understand how that could excite anyone.
It's unclear to me. Totally.
Let's put it this way...
From the moment on...
when a woman's development starts to become visible...
When you're...
walking through the city and in front of you, you see...
a beautiful woman's butt,
and then the woman turns around and you start...
because she's a 12-year-old,
right there you have that spark inside of you
and we're still not talking about a teenager.
You have that spark inside you and, of course, then it's gone.
I don't have that spark, because once I realize that she's young,
I have no spark. The spark I had is gone.
But I didn't see that before.
Because I thought it was a woman.
Yes. But again...
I can't deny that the spark is there.
I can't deny a certain arousal.
But from the first moment on, where you sense...
that there is a possible biological receptiveness...
A child - we don't need to talk about that.
But you can see that.
And as soon you recognize femininity...
But actually we are still talking about children.
Finish with relish!
For the beginning I'll sit up straight...
Then maybe you'll lie down...
Once I've read the text, I'll have to lie down, right?
- I don't know yet... - Let's find out.
Exactly.
So what I've learned about Josefine...
Okay... she really got around.
Yes.
Had a lot of sex in her life...
with a lot of men. Apparently made a living from it.
A Viennese girl, a harlot, as they say.
Yeah, I read up about it, it's a novel...
about Josefine Mutzenbacher.
But now I'll read aloud, all right?
Okay.
Ferdl told us girls that our cunts were still sealed shut,
so you could only rub them on the outside.
And that, as we got older,
hair would grow there,
that our hole would open up,
and that then you'd be able to stick the entire cock inside.
This text is very salacious.
I didn't want to believe it, but Anna assured me...
that Ferdl knew what he was talking about.
Ferdl said that he had fucked Mrs. Reinthaler in the attic,
and his cock had gone all the way into her hole.
While Ferdl was explaining this to us,
he reached under my skirt and touched me there.
Franz did the same to Anna.
I had Ferdl's cock in my hand, and I was very much enjoying...
the way he was fingering me.
It tickled. Not in a way that made me laugh,
but in a way that sent a feeling of well-being throughout my entire body.
This activity was interrupted by Anna, who took both dolls...
and placed one of them on her stomach under her dress...
and the other one under mine.
"There," she said, "now we're expecting."
The two of us went around the room, sticking our stuffed bellies out...
and laughing.
Then we gave birth to our children,
cradled them in our arms, and gave them to our husbands...
to hold and admire.
And for a while we played like innocent children.
I have to let the text sink in a bit.
I wouldn't have thought that it was so deep.
Not as superficial as I'd thought.
Where it's really about foul Viennese language.
And it's really about the first time.
Where the girls don't really know...
what they are in for.
And then...
they are presented with accomplished facts.
That's how it seems to me.
Unaccomplished facts.
That they were somehow pushed into it by Ferdl.
Perhaps maybe even a little forced to do these things.
How was it for you as a child?
Well, I was a late bloomer, I was around 16 years old...
by the time I even started thinking about sex or wanting it.
Before that, I remember that I was...
maybe around 14...
when I saw my first porn movie, in which...
a girl was giving a guy a blow job.
And for me that was so strange.
It totally grossed me out.
And then it made me laugh, just imagining the situation...
It made me laugh inside.
Because it was embarrassing for you?
It wasn't embarrassing, it was just the situation:
How can you put someone's cock into your mouth and suck it?
I mean that's gross, your pee comes out of there.
That's what I was thinking.
But you were 14, so you knew something else came out of there too.
When I was 14...
I was somehow, I don't know...
maybe like a girl, who...
doesn't have a clue about anything. I was a late bloomer.
I was somehow so awkward when I was 14.
I didn't really know anybody who had already had sex. I mean people my age.
No, not really.
The party I mentioned, that was the first time...
I came into contact with anything like that.
I had just turned 14, I was 13 or 14.
Yes, and then not long after that...
I liked what I saw.
That was later, when I was 16.
That mouth thing, you mean?
Blow jobs, yes. I enjoyed giving those myself.
I'm gay. I'm outing myself here.
When did you realize it?
It became clear to me when I was 16.
But I had always been interested in boys,
this feeling of being in love:
"Oooh, that boy is cute, I like him," and so on.
With girls, it was never a thing that I could somehow like girls.
Maybe that explains why I thought:
"How could a girl give a boy a blow job?"
Maybe that's why it was somehow different for me.
I see.
And I've had my experiences with prostitution, too.
I tried it myself because I hardly had any money.
But with gays it was a little different. For that you went to a public toilet.
There were men masturbating around a urinal.
And...
if an older man tried to approach me,
I'd say: "That'll cost ya somethin'."
Everyone discovers himself.
Yes. But I don't know really.
Yeah, everyone discovers it for him- or herself. And I also think that...
especially with guys... Because girls tend to talk about it less,
or at least not with guys...
But guys like to...
test it out...
and then...
literally play around,
in order to discover their own barriers or limitations,
to find out what the body can and cannot do.
And...
I think that's also something beautiful,
that you're somehow able to...
massage yourself into an ecstasy of happiness.
Massage yourself into...
Or I don't know...
You're the older one here.
I'm only one year older than you.
Massage yourself into an ecstasy of happiness, I mean...
That just left me a little speechless.
Maybe to get into a...
Massage yourself into an ecstasy of happiness.
I don't know how else to say it. I don't want to use these vulgar...
Masturbation, jerking off.
Yeah, but if you are on that level, where you're just satisfied...
But that's a really good expression. I'll have to remember that...
Yeah, I simply respect my body.
Yeah but, jaxxen.
Ah, c'mon please.
Long, thin and strikingly white.
Short and quite thick.
Big and red-hot.
Thick, short, upright.
Thin, white, crooked.
Standing tall.
Hello.
Please take a seat on our couch,
and just sit there for a while.
Ferdl told us girls that our cunts were still sealed shut,
so you could only rub them on the outside.
And that, as we got older, hair would grow there,
our hole would open up, and then you'd be able to stick the entire cock inside.
I didn't want to believe it, but Anna said Ferdl knew what he was talking about.
Ferdl said that he had fucked Mrs. Reinthaler in the attic.
And his cock had gone all the way into her hole.
While Ferdl was explaining this to us,
he reached under my skirt and touched me there.
Franz did the same to Anna.
I had Ferdl's cock in my hand, and I was very much enjoying...
the way he was fingering me.
It tickled. Not in a way that made me laugh, but in a way...
that sent a feeling of well-being throughout my entire body.
This activity was interrupted by Anna, who took both dolls...
and placed one of them on her stomach under her dress...
and the other under mine.
"There," she said, "now we're expecting."
The two of us went around the room,
sticking our stuffed bellies out and laughing.
Then we gave birth to our children, cradled them in our arms,
and gave them to our husbands to hold and admire.
And for a while we played like innocent children.
If I could just comment on this straight away.
These are experiences that I think...
maybe not like this - everyone has had, but normally it's divided up.
I remember that in kindergarten -
especially in kindergarten -
we used to play house. All the time, in fact.
Of course, not like this, just normal stuff, like someone would cook or...
we would build a house or something, of course, without all this sexual content.
And then for me this gets mixed up with when you're a teenager or young adult,
or whenever these first sexual experiences happen.
Because it's similar to this,
when you lose your virginity,
and maybe that's the case for both of you - like it was with me.
Then you're both so awkward...
and you're still figuring everything out,
"Like this feels good and this doesn't."
But here everything is all mixed up, these phases...
that actually should be happening years apart.
But when considered separately,
I think these two experiences are something everyone understands, right?
The memory that suddenly shot into my head and that...
is comparable to this, at least to a certain extent, has to do with...
the use of foul language,
but with no equivalent to the actual deed itself.
It was where my grandmother lived...
I think I was 9 or 10, and there were other kids...
with whom we played together all the time. They were already 13/14.
So there was about a 4-year age gap between the two groups.
The larger group consisted of the younger ones, 9 and 10, and...
then there were a few 13- or 14-year-olds.
And that summer, they pitched a tent -
a camping tent - in the grass between the buildings.
It was a housing complex in Vienna, in Meidling.
So they had this tent that you could zip closed.
And the way the game worked was that a boy and girl went into the tent -
it was like a game of courage -
and inside, they had to "fuck."
I think that was the first time I became conscious of that word,
and I had no clear idea of what it really meant,
except that it had something to do with...
physical, human closeness between two people.
Go in there and "fuck!"
And some of us did it.
Of course, we don't know what the others really did in there.
Some may have played it out explicitly.
I can't remember, I think it was Petra...
I was good friends with several girls.
Marion and Petra were good friends of mine.
I don't remember who I went into the tent with, but I did go inside,
I think it was Petra,
and we just sat there for ten minutes and stared at each other,
or we looked at the ground and did absolutely nothing.
We didn't even touch or anything.
And then we came out and said: "We fucked."
And the reason why I think I remember this...
why it has remained so strongly as the only sexualized image of my childhood...
is that afterwards I went upstairs,
and my mother was there with my grandparents,
and I went up and, as usual, my mother asked...
what we did that day, and I answered:
"Today we fucked."
I read recently...
that the reason our generation has so many more problems sexually...
or is so buttoned up is because...
in recent years it has turned into a performance act...
almost like we're being attacked from all sides.
And so, this entirely normal thing...
which sexuality is, has become lost.
And that's why our generation...
is allegedly - I don't know if you can generalize like that -
I don't want to say traumatized, but...
Can you be more precise? I can't picture it.
"Attacked from all sides." How does that change you...
sexually speaking in terms of what you actually do.
Let's say for example...
you consume a lot of pornography,
which many start doing at a very young age,
at my age or even younger.
And then you also have all these dating apps popping up,
where it's like a competition about...
how many partners you have and so on.
All these influences come at you from all sides,
even the content of the porn you watch...
gives you a certain picture of what sexuality should be.
We talk about some of this openly amongst friends.
It's like it becomes...
a script of how you're supposed to perform in bed,
how you're supposed to start,
what foreplay should be like, how long you have to last in bed,
what to do to...
satisfy your partner.
And all these things are buzzing around in your head.
And I see all this in my own environment,
that people feel like they have a checklist...
that they're trying to work through.
And I think these influences are...
They turn sexuality, which is really something totally natural,
where you shouldn't have to think,
something innate... They turn it into a kind of performance.
Do you expect girls to know about these checklists?
That's the thing.
As a guy our age...
I think that we think girls have these checklists, too, and that they think:
"Okay, he did that, check. He didn't do that, cross."
That's putting it crudely, of course, not always, but...
I think many do think like that. And that's also why you try,
you want to be seen as a good lover, a stallion.
But, of course, most girls don't feel that way at all...
when you talk to them about it.
"So, little girl, it gave you pleasure,
and you enjoyed it, correct?
But you said yourself that it gave you pleasure.
All right, all right. So you didn't like doing it,
and it was only 'involuntarily' pleasant, correct?"
"No, he didn't do anything to me...
Yes.
Here...
Well, because the catechism teacher wanted to.
Because I didn't dare.
Yes, out of fear.
No!
Sometimes it hurt me, but not always.
No, I didn't like doing it.
I can't help it if it goes back and forth...
Yes."
Let's try it again with a little less performing this time.
I looked it up to see what it's about.
It's about Mutzenbacher, about her text.
So then I started to read it,
and it's a tad too vulgar for me.
I did find parts...
that I can accept.
Part of my concern is what if my grandchildren were to see this...
and think:
"Whoa, Grandpa says cunt," or something like that.
That's a situation I want to avoid. So I'm telling you this now,
before you invest your time,
and in the end I say that I don't want to do it.
You find it too vulgar.
I don't know which parts you found objectionable.
There's...
a scene...
where she talks to a boy from the neighborhood.
She asks him if he has ever slept with a woman, or if he has ever done "it" before.
And they agree to go down to the basement, I think.
I didn't read it very carefully I just skimmed over it.
And then I think he touches her...
Yes, he touches her genitals through her clothing.
And this excites her and she immediately comes. That kind of thing.
A boy named Alois.
Possibly.
He was a handsome fellow with beautiful blond hair.
One afternoon I ran into Alois by chance alone by the entrance to the basement,
where I was sneaking around feeling horny.
Alois stopped and looked at me.
When he didn't speak, I smiled. "Have you ever been to the basement?"
Is this it?
I think so, it probably goes on for another page.
I read it online.
Then he caressed my breasts...
and finally, his hand strayed lower and lower,
until it rested on my cunt outside my clothes.
He remained serious and quiet.
Yes?
- With one hand he... - It's...
...grabbed my buttocks and pushed himself against me.
So that only my back was leaning against the wall.
And the next moment, I groaned heavily,
trying to suppress a cry of lust.
I think that's as far as I got, yes.
The way you read it...
it's okay, I'd say.
How do you read it?
I don't know. I haven't read it yet.
I just read it to myself and thought:
Whoa - vulgar.
- Are you saying we should try it? - Yes, of course.
And the other passage, where he seduces the mother...
That's the one you'd like?
We have the Eckart and Horak monologues.
Shortened versions of both.
Yes, I have the Father part here, too.
Then let's do Eckart?
- Am I too much trouble? - Or the mother?
What did you say?
I'm sorry I'm causing so much trouble.
Here, the mother...
The mother is better.
Is the mother better? Okay, good.
Yes.
So this is the part you mean,
but it's only the mother's part.
One can imagine the rest.
- Yes. - Here.
I'll just start and give it a try.
Exactly.
Whenever?
My husband, a second round with him...
I'd be grateful, if he managed even one round.
Other men won't be much better.
Leave me alone. I'm a respectable woman! Do you understand?
Although...
you can't tell that I've already borne three children.
You can't tell anywhere, I'm still just like I was as a girl.
Nothing's changed...
My breasts are just as firm as ever.
You don't have to believe it, if you don't want to.
There, you see, now you believe me.
Because I'm a respectable woman.
C'mon now, stop it. Stop it!
Stop it!
Someone might come.
No, no... I don't want to, I don't want to.
I am a respectable woman.
Go away... Or I'll scream...
If somebody comes home now...
I beg you, don't...
I beg you... Don't...
You can't even find the right spot!
Wait... Don't... Don't...
Jesus, you're hurting me...
Such a big cock... And so thick...
Ah...
Sweet... Sweet...
This is so different than usual...
Hard, simply hard.
I can feel it all the way up to my teats.
Fuck me...
Fuck me good...
I'm about to come.
Ah, that's good...
This is new to me,
being fucked as long as I want.
My husband would have finished ages ago.
That's good,
shove it in hard... Hard.
And ream me. Ah... That's wonderful.
My husband has never lasted this long.
God... I'm coming... I'm coming.
For God's sake, don't pull out now.
Not yet.
Please, please, please, please...
Bang me! Oh God, if only I'd known how good this feels,
how good your cock is and how it can ream.
Now... Now... Now!
I just came.
Oh God... Ah...!
I'm really coming again... Hah!
That's never happened with my husband.
I'm dying. I'm dying.
I feel your cock all the way up to my mouth.
I beg you... Take my teats, play with my breasts...
Please, play with my teats. Like that... Like that...
And just keep fucking me.
Leave it in my cunt, your prick... Leave it there.
Ah, I'm coming again, for the third time.
Forget what I said... "Respectable woman"
I'm coming...
"Respectable woman..."
Fuck me... Fuck me!
I don't care if anyone comes by!
Come, come!
Ah... Now... Now I feel it. Now...
How it squirts the warm spurt coming inside me.
Oh and how often it twitches.
Oh, this is a cock. This is a cock...
Hehe, the teats, touch them. Like that... I'm coming too...
I'll definitely have a child like this,
you're coming so much.
It doesn't matter! And he's still pounding me.
When my husband comes,
he stops moving. And you keep fucking...
Like that... Like that...
My husband squirts twice and it's over.
That's it.
Was I good?
Very good, and you enjoyed it...
I came after all...
Now what?
Thank you.
When you consider that there are 365 days in a year,
and if you count at least three men per day,
that comes to eleven hundred men per year.
Over a period of three decades that's 33,000 men.
That is an army!
And no one would expect nor want me...
to give an individual account of every one of the 33,000 cocks...
that have shagged me over the years.
Nor is it necessary for me to do so,
neither for me, who has filled these pages...
only so I might watch the main phases of my life go by,
nor for the sake of those...
who might leaf through this record after I am dead.
Because in the end, love is nothing but nonsense.
A woman is like an old reed pipe with only a few holes...
and on which you can only play a few notes.
All men do the same.
They lie on top, we lie on the bottom.
They pound us and we get pounded.
That is the whole difference.