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The rain on the window distorts the trucks moving across the dark concrete. It shifts their colours into melted patterns that jump and run and fragment the outlines of distant figures. Burly men in heavy coats move about the haze. Dark, heavy coats pulled tight against the weather. Red faces closed against the cold.
Germany is a dark, wet wasteland of diesel fumes and garish commercial vehicles, spattered with the dirt and grime of the autobahn.
The café is crowded and steam rises from wet clothing. People press past each other and a television mutters and cheers in a corner as small red and blue figures chase a ball.
I nurture my coffee though it tasted foul even when it was still warm. The woman behind the counter, hard faced and dour has been looking in my direction for several minutes before Geert returns to the booth opposite me carrying a tray filled with food. He is a large heavily built man in his late forties, with an impressive Slavic moustache and eyes filled with the kind of empathy that only comes with wisdom. In the four hours since I first met him, I have avoided his eyes. This wasn’t difficult in the cab of the articulated lorry, but here in the café I realise I am avoiding his eyes for some reason. When I think of it, I find myself trembling slightly. I find it difficult to accept empathy from strangers, but Geert has a strange quality that makes me feel as if he is able to read my mind simply by looking at my face. I wonder idly if a person can read another as easily as I might read a book. I sneak a peek at Geert as he eats wondering if he is aware of the hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I eat mechanically, for my body is hungry even if my mind rejects the notion of food. I glance up at the clock on the wall. It is a mechanical digital clock with numbers that flick noisily into place. It reads 18:44. Outside the darkness is gathering and the trucks are silhouettes bathed in white and orange light. Geert finishes his meal and lights up a cigarette. He offers one but I shake my head. I have no stomach for tobacco.
The truck stop is a large sprawling area with multiple buildings. Geert has parked in what he tells me is his usual spot and has collected the keys to a room at the motel and as we walk back to the car park in the rain he points to a line of dark and dull windows. The motel sits on a hilltop surrounded by looming fir trees and almost appears to be floating above the rain and haze of the trucks below. We step aside as a behemoth rumbles past us, its tires spreading apart a deep pool of turgid rain water and I spy a red sign reflected in the ripples that reads Bodega when I look up. Geert is lighting another cigarette. I decide to get a drink. He says nothing, merely nods and we make our way across the wet grass.
The bar girl in the bodega is blonde and tall. She smiles and puts two beers on the counter as I fumble for money. Around me hundreds of people talk and jostle each other and I begin to relax slightly. The bodega is warm and the air is close and slightly uncomfortable, but I know now that I do not have to move on tonight. I am off the road for now and I can settle down until the morning. A clock on the wall behind the blonde reads 19:33. I take the beers to where Geert is sitting with two other men. I pass him his beer and he introduces me to a Swede and another Dutchman who lives in the same town as Geert. I am introduced as a hitch hiker Geert picked up at the Austrian border, which is entirely true. Neither of Geert friends pays me any attention and I forget their names even as they are spoken.
I sip my beer and listen to their conversation which is mundane, dealing with the realities of driving heavy vehicles in Europe. Gradually I feel my body beginning to loose its cohesion and I slump against the wall. My mind begins to wander. I notice the Swede has an indentation on his finger, as of a ring removed. It becomes apparent why when a young Eastern European prostitute walks by the table and the Swede follows her with his eyes. All three truckers laugh and turn to regard the woman who pauses and looks back for full effect. The Swede grins and lifts his eye brows but the other Dutchman shakes his head. Geert says nothing but is chuckling when the Swede leaves with the prostitute. I watch them as they watch the Swede leave. Geert is laughing and talking but his eyes glance at me and I feel the tension return to my stomach. I make my excuse and go to the bar.
The blonde serves me a Smirnoff ice and three beers and I return to the table with the latter. Geert and the other Dutchman are talking in their own language and they barely acknowledge me as I put beers on the table before them. I settle down again, my mind wandering back to the ride here in the truck cab. Geert hadn’t said much, just asked a few questions and let me rattle on about university, girls, why I left home and life in general. I hadn’t paid much attention to him at first, happy to talk about myself and both of us staring at the road ahead. I was grateful that some one could be bothered to listen to me at all.
Only after we’d reached the truck stop had I really been confronted with his eyes.
The other Dutchman finally leaves and Geert turns to me. It isn’t late, but its dark and so it feels late. I am slightly drunk and I smile happily as he offers me a cigarette. I accept though I don’t smoke. I hold the burning cigarette in my fingers and softly inhale the smoke. I expect to cough but I don’t.
After another Smirnoff ice at the bar, I buy four more beers and make my way to the door. The helpful blonde has left their caps on and I stuff two of the bottles into my jacket. Outside Geert stands in the shelter of the over hanging roof and waits for me. He accepts his beer silently and we walk up the hill towards the motel. My hands and my legs are trembling with pent up nervous energy and I almost drain my beer in one long draught. Geert watches me and asks if I am alright. I am and I nod trying to relay a calmness I don’t feel.
We reach a door at the end of a row. It is marked 24 and I notice that 23 and 22 are both dark and silent. The autobahn in the distance is muted by the surrounding trees. Geert produces the key and opens the door. For a second I am staring into darkness and then suddenly light erupts about me to reveal a small comfortable room with a large double bed in the centre facing a television. I close the door behind me and drop my rucksack on to the floor beside it. Geert wanders into a bathroom and I hear him relieve himself. I sit on the bed and the floor seems to move beneath me as the sounds of running water register in my mind. I’m not too drunk and I feel good. I stare at the television screen and see Geert reflected in its grey emptiness. He returns to the room and removes his jacket, dropping it into an armchair then turns towards me. I turn my head towards him and my eyes flick up at his then away.
It is enough. He unzips his pants and produces a cock, semi rigid and fat. I catch my breath and in my chest my heart begins to beat urgently as I take in the sight of his fore finger and thumb caressing the head, pulling back the foreskin which slides back and forth easily.
I slide off the bed and onto knees and he steps closer, pressing him self against my face. The scent of him fills my nostrils and eagerly, I open my mouth wide. I don’t know if he is aware of it but this is the first cock I have had in my mouth and I find the experience to be a relief. The feel of this intrusion, the size and movement of him against, and into my face, combines with the dizzy eagerness in my head and I feel a wave of warmth washing through my groin. My erection spasms and I come despite myself.
As it transpires, Geert is aware of my virginity and doesn’t seem to mind my premature ejaculation. If anything it seems to enliven him, for he withdraws from my mouth and after watching me shuddering in the aftermath of my orgasm he pulls me to my feet and proceeds to undress me.
Naked, I lie on my back on the bed and standing over me he feeds his cock back into my mouth and then begins to play with me. I reach out with my tongue and he lets it run under the length of his shaft before ploughing as much of his length into my mouth as I can accommodate. My head spins but I am happy. His hand slides over my belly and he begins to stroke my cock slowly, his fingers following the same slow rhythm as his cock. His balls are soft and warm as they brush against my forehead.
There is a smell about him that is both familiar and yet alien. My mind is reminded of a thousand instances of human contact, but no previous experience corresponds to the scent of his crotch with the sensations in my mouth. I am stiff with pleasure at his touch, aching with a taut erection despite that I have only just ejaculated moments before.
He moves me about as his own erection makes it impossible to continue, pulling me onto my side and re inserting the ever expanding member back between my lips. He is almost twice my size and the disparity enhances the emotional impact of what is happening to me. I feel small and vulnerable and excited. I am eager to please him and make no protest when he pulls up my leg to allow his fingers access to my cleft.
I begin to moan with the pleasure of anticipation as his index finger presses against my anus and I feel his cock stiffen abruptly in my mouth. He knows I like this and it excites him. He can feel my body shivering, betraying my eagerness and his own movements take on a controlled urgency of their own. I want him to enter me now and I am breathing hard and fast, my voice making small uncontrollable noises as I take his thrusting ever harder into my mouth. I feel as though I might gag at any moment but before this can happen he withdraws from me and leans across me to take my cock in his mouth. I immediately come into him, my body contracting as the rush of semen erupts from me.
For a short minute Geert sucks on my cock, swallowing my load silently until I am spent and weary. He laughs and slaps my thigh as he gets up from the bed. I look up at him with confused eyes, but he tells me to take a shower whilst he drinks a beer. I understand what he means and waste little time. I wash myself thoroughly; my fingers trembling with excitement at the thought of being penetrated completely by the same cock which I have just tasted in my mouth. I can hear Geert talking in Dutch as I step from the shower cubicle and I pause, uncertain. He is talking on his phone, but when he sees me peering into the room he ends the call abruptly and tosses the phone on to the arm chair.
Until this moment the room has been bathed in a hard illumination from the overhead lamp but now Geert turns on a small bedside light, bending its light into the wall and extinguishes the main light so the room fills with shadows. He motions to the bed and I climb onto it. As I do he walks into the bathroom again and I hear him enter the shower. I pull the bed covers over me and lie there, thinking dizzily. My mind is a riot of conflicting emotions.
There is a knock at the door and I stare at it in shock. I am lying naked in another mans bed. Geert walks through the room, turning to look at me as he walks by the bed, his eyes meeting mine in a look of reassurance. I feel the panic subside somewhat, but my stomach is trembling with trepidation. The tumult of my emotions I had experience scant moments before has been turned upside down and I pull the covers up to my nose like a c***d. Geert opens the door and the other Dutchman from the bar enters the room. He looks at me as Geert closes the door again and his eyes are very different from Geert’s. There is a hunger apparent in him, a naked desire that he takes no trouble to conceal. Geert turns to look at me again and I see there is a question in his eyes. Unseen by the other Dutchman, he tilts his head and his eyes flicker from mine to the new comer. I understand. I pause. I realise I want this more than I am afraid of it. I realise Geert has known this all along. When the other Dutchman is not looking at me, I nod, very slightly and Geert smiles a small secretive smile. It is a moment of confidence unlike any I have known. I am being given a gift of sorts, and I am made a gift. The other Dutchman is introduced again.
Jorn is taller than Geert and his cock is longer. He is a svelte, muscular man with a shock of sun bleached hair. His skin is tanned from outdoor activity and his general appearance is one of vigorous health. Geert by comparison is over weight and swarthy, but I find myself drawn inexorably to Geert. Jorn discards his clothes then sits on the armchair and opens a beer as Geert beckons me to him. I obey and the feeling of nervous energy in my body makes my hands shiver with excitement. Geert stands at the foot of the bed and his cock bobs softly to the rhythm of his heartbeat. I touch it, lifting it to my lips and then aware of being watched by Jorn’s greedy eyes in the corner I take the full length of Geert’s cock into my mouth as his hands run through my hair and clasp my head.
For the better part of five long minutes, Geert works on my mouth with his tool. His hands, strong and determined, control my movements and I am wilfully passive, allowing myself to be used for his pleasure. Jorn sits and watches us in silence and although my eyes are closed, I bath in the pleasure of this experience. I know what both of them want me to do and after a while I gently rearrange myself so I am no longer seated on the bed, but on my hands and knees upon it. It is the sign they have been waiting for, and although I keep my eyes deliberately closed, I can feel Jorn move behind me and his weight transmits his presence on the bed. His hand reaches between my legs and he caresses my balls gently. I squirm with anticipation as I feel his face nuzzle against me, his nose between my buttocks and his tongue touching my perineum. A spasm of electric sensation courses through me and I moan audibly as he begins to lick about my anus. Geert’s cock hardens perceptibly in my mouth and suddenly a rush of sperm almost chokes me. His fingers grip my head and his pelvis jerks with each spurt. I swallow his cum as it flows, letting it run down my throat until he withdraws from me, then as he moves away from me, I bury my face in the bed and breath heavily, moaning with pleasure at the touch of Jorn’s tongue.
I deliberately keep my hands away from myself and Jorn soon ceases to play with my balls. I am already straining to come but now I want to be fucked. I want it more than anything I have ever known and I have my legs spread as open as I can. I feel like I am inviting almost anything to be visited upon me and when Jorn ceases his attentions, gasping with his excitement I answer eagerly to his question as to whether or not I want to lose my virginity. I do.
Jorn climbs off the bed and makes way for Geert who now climbs to kneel behind me. I look back and see his hand softly masturbating as he contemplates me in my vulnerable state. I arch my back ever so slightly to emphasise my submission and his eyes meet mine again sending a surge of inner happiness through me. Jorn hands him a small plastic tube and then retires to the armchair and I wonder if they have done this many times before to other young men.
The lubrication fluid is cold but not unpleasant. Geert’s blunt fingers smear it liberally about my anus then softly he presses a thumb into me, pausing then pressing with the ease of experience. I feel myself tighten as my reflexes react, but after a few moments I find I can relax and accept the intrusion. Geert moves his thumb back and forth and the feeling of intense pleasure I felt with Jorn’s tongue returns causing me to breathe deeply with satisfaction. Geert applies more lube, squeezing a long stream from the top of my cleft which runs down and around his thumb which is still held tightly in my anus. He works the lubricant into me, moving his thumb in and out until I am relaxed. The nervous sensation in my chest is almost painful, my heart beat throbbing in my neck and when he removes his thumb I feel open and exposed in a way beyond my imagination. I know what’s coming next so I take a deep breath. Geert’s cock is far bigger than his thumb and the pressure it exerts on me is such that my muscle instinctively tightens, but Geert has tried this before and he does not show any impatience.
Slowly and deliberately he massages my opening, pressing himself ever deeper and pausing until after a few minutes, gasping with discomfort, I find myself suddenly enveloped by a warm pleasure. My anus finally relaxes and allows him to press his full length into me.
It is at this moment that I finally accept my nature for the sensation and pleasure of being filled by this mans cock impacts upon my mind to such a degree that I feel a rush of emotion bringing tears to my eyes. As Geert begins to move, thrusting slowly yet powerfully into my body, I bury my face in the bed and sob softly with happiness. Each thrust brings a small exclamation from me: a hoarse sigh of satisfaction as my body accepts the intrusion of his cock. I have no idea how long I am fucked by Geert. I am soon prostrate on the bed, pressed down onto my stomach by his weight, grunting with each solid thrust of his pelvis against my body, forcefully driving his shaft deep into me.
Eventually he reaches his climax, long after I have come for a third time, my semen spilled into the bed and smeared against my belly. He grips my hair with one hand and pulls my head back and side ways so that I am facing Jorn who watches from the corner. I can look back and see Geert’s red face, wet with sweat, breathing hard and fast as he empties himself into me with along shuddering groan that reverberates with pride in my heart. I feel utterly at peace. Geert rolls off me and Jorn stands up. His eyes are upon me, questioning and I simply nod. I want more.
Germany is a dark, wet wasteland of diesel fumes and garish commercial vehicles, spattered with the dirt and grime of the autobahn.
The café is crowded and steam rises from wet clothing. People press past each other and a television mutters and cheers in a corner as small red and blue figures chase a ball.
I nurture my coffee though it tasted foul even when it was still warm. The woman behind the counter, hard faced and dour has been looking in my direction for several minutes before Geert returns to the booth opposite me carrying a tray filled with food. He is a large heavily built man in his late forties, with an impressive Slavic moustache and eyes filled with the kind of empathy that only comes with wisdom. In the four hours since I first met him, I have avoided his eyes. This wasn’t difficult in the cab of the articulated lorry, but here in the café I realise I am avoiding his eyes for some reason. When I think of it, I find myself trembling slightly. I find it difficult to accept empathy from strangers, but Geert has a strange quality that makes me feel as if he is able to read my mind simply by looking at my face. I wonder idly if a person can read another as easily as I might read a book. I sneak a peek at Geert as he eats wondering if he is aware of the hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I eat mechanically, for my body is hungry even if my mind rejects the notion of food. I glance up at the clock on the wall. It is a mechanical digital clock with numbers that flick noisily into place. It reads 18:44. Outside the darkness is gathering and the trucks are silhouettes bathed in white and orange light. Geert finishes his meal and lights up a cigarette. He offers one but I shake my head. I have no stomach for tobacco.
The truck stop is a large sprawling area with multiple buildings. Geert has parked in what he tells me is his usual spot and has collected the keys to a room at the motel and as we walk back to the car park in the rain he points to a line of dark and dull windows. The motel sits on a hilltop surrounded by looming fir trees and almost appears to be floating above the rain and haze of the trucks below. We step aside as a behemoth rumbles past us, its tires spreading apart a deep pool of turgid rain water and I spy a red sign reflected in the ripples that reads Bodega when I look up. Geert is lighting another cigarette. I decide to get a drink. He says nothing, merely nods and we make our way across the wet grass.
The bar girl in the bodega is blonde and tall. She smiles and puts two beers on the counter as I fumble for money. Around me hundreds of people talk and jostle each other and I begin to relax slightly. The bodega is warm and the air is close and slightly uncomfortable, but I know now that I do not have to move on tonight. I am off the road for now and I can settle down until the morning. A clock on the wall behind the blonde reads 19:33. I take the beers to where Geert is sitting with two other men. I pass him his beer and he introduces me to a Swede and another Dutchman who lives in the same town as Geert. I am introduced as a hitch hiker Geert picked up at the Austrian border, which is entirely true. Neither of Geert friends pays me any attention and I forget their names even as they are spoken.
I sip my beer and listen to their conversation which is mundane, dealing with the realities of driving heavy vehicles in Europe. Gradually I feel my body beginning to loose its cohesion and I slump against the wall. My mind begins to wander. I notice the Swede has an indentation on his finger, as of a ring removed. It becomes apparent why when a young Eastern European prostitute walks by the table and the Swede follows her with his eyes. All three truckers laugh and turn to regard the woman who pauses and looks back for full effect. The Swede grins and lifts his eye brows but the other Dutchman shakes his head. Geert says nothing but is chuckling when the Swede leaves with the prostitute. I watch them as they watch the Swede leave. Geert is laughing and talking but his eyes glance at me and I feel the tension return to my stomach. I make my excuse and go to the bar.
The blonde serves me a Smirnoff ice and three beers and I return to the table with the latter. Geert and the other Dutchman are talking in their own language and they barely acknowledge me as I put beers on the table before them. I settle down again, my mind wandering back to the ride here in the truck cab. Geert hadn’t said much, just asked a few questions and let me rattle on about university, girls, why I left home and life in general. I hadn’t paid much attention to him at first, happy to talk about myself and both of us staring at the road ahead. I was grateful that some one could be bothered to listen to me at all.
Only after we’d reached the truck stop had I really been confronted with his eyes.
The other Dutchman finally leaves and Geert turns to me. It isn’t late, but its dark and so it feels late. I am slightly drunk and I smile happily as he offers me a cigarette. I accept though I don’t smoke. I hold the burning cigarette in my fingers and softly inhale the smoke. I expect to cough but I don’t.
After another Smirnoff ice at the bar, I buy four more beers and make my way to the door. The helpful blonde has left their caps on and I stuff two of the bottles into my jacket. Outside Geert stands in the shelter of the over hanging roof and waits for me. He accepts his beer silently and we walk up the hill towards the motel. My hands and my legs are trembling with pent up nervous energy and I almost drain my beer in one long draught. Geert watches me and asks if I am alright. I am and I nod trying to relay a calmness I don’t feel.
We reach a door at the end of a row. It is marked 24 and I notice that 23 and 22 are both dark and silent. The autobahn in the distance is muted by the surrounding trees. Geert produces the key and opens the door. For a second I am staring into darkness and then suddenly light erupts about me to reveal a small comfortable room with a large double bed in the centre facing a television. I close the door behind me and drop my rucksack on to the floor beside it. Geert wanders into a bathroom and I hear him relieve himself. I sit on the bed and the floor seems to move beneath me as the sounds of running water register in my mind. I’m not too drunk and I feel good. I stare at the television screen and see Geert reflected in its grey emptiness. He returns to the room and removes his jacket, dropping it into an armchair then turns towards me. I turn my head towards him and my eyes flick up at his then away.
It is enough. He unzips his pants and produces a cock, semi rigid and fat. I catch my breath and in my chest my heart begins to beat urgently as I take in the sight of his fore finger and thumb caressing the head, pulling back the foreskin which slides back and forth easily.
I slide off the bed and onto knees and he steps closer, pressing him self against my face. The scent of him fills my nostrils and eagerly, I open my mouth wide. I don’t know if he is aware of it but this is the first cock I have had in my mouth and I find the experience to be a relief. The feel of this intrusion, the size and movement of him against, and into my face, combines with the dizzy eagerness in my head and I feel a wave of warmth washing through my groin. My erection spasms and I come despite myself.
As it transpires, Geert is aware of my virginity and doesn’t seem to mind my premature ejaculation. If anything it seems to enliven him, for he withdraws from my mouth and after watching me shuddering in the aftermath of my orgasm he pulls me to my feet and proceeds to undress me.
Naked, I lie on my back on the bed and standing over me he feeds his cock back into my mouth and then begins to play with me. I reach out with my tongue and he lets it run under the length of his shaft before ploughing as much of his length into my mouth as I can accommodate. My head spins but I am happy. His hand slides over my belly and he begins to stroke my cock slowly, his fingers following the same slow rhythm as his cock. His balls are soft and warm as they brush against my forehead.
There is a smell about him that is both familiar and yet alien. My mind is reminded of a thousand instances of human contact, but no previous experience corresponds to the scent of his crotch with the sensations in my mouth. I am stiff with pleasure at his touch, aching with a taut erection despite that I have only just ejaculated moments before.
He moves me about as his own erection makes it impossible to continue, pulling me onto my side and re inserting the ever expanding member back between my lips. He is almost twice my size and the disparity enhances the emotional impact of what is happening to me. I feel small and vulnerable and excited. I am eager to please him and make no protest when he pulls up my leg to allow his fingers access to my cleft.
I begin to moan with the pleasure of anticipation as his index finger presses against my anus and I feel his cock stiffen abruptly in my mouth. He knows I like this and it excites him. He can feel my body shivering, betraying my eagerness and his own movements take on a controlled urgency of their own. I want him to enter me now and I am breathing hard and fast, my voice making small uncontrollable noises as I take his thrusting ever harder into my mouth. I feel as though I might gag at any moment but before this can happen he withdraws from me and leans across me to take my cock in his mouth. I immediately come into him, my body contracting as the rush of semen erupts from me.
For a short minute Geert sucks on my cock, swallowing my load silently until I am spent and weary. He laughs and slaps my thigh as he gets up from the bed. I look up at him with confused eyes, but he tells me to take a shower whilst he drinks a beer. I understand what he means and waste little time. I wash myself thoroughly; my fingers trembling with excitement at the thought of being penetrated completely by the same cock which I have just tasted in my mouth. I can hear Geert talking in Dutch as I step from the shower cubicle and I pause, uncertain. He is talking on his phone, but when he sees me peering into the room he ends the call abruptly and tosses the phone on to the arm chair.
Until this moment the room has been bathed in a hard illumination from the overhead lamp but now Geert turns on a small bedside light, bending its light into the wall and extinguishes the main light so the room fills with shadows. He motions to the bed and I climb onto it. As I do he walks into the bathroom again and I hear him enter the shower. I pull the bed covers over me and lie there, thinking dizzily. My mind is a riot of conflicting emotions.
There is a knock at the door and I stare at it in shock. I am lying naked in another mans bed. Geert walks through the room, turning to look at me as he walks by the bed, his eyes meeting mine in a look of reassurance. I feel the panic subside somewhat, but my stomach is trembling with trepidation. The tumult of my emotions I had experience scant moments before has been turned upside down and I pull the covers up to my nose like a c***d. Geert opens the door and the other Dutchman from the bar enters the room. He looks at me as Geert closes the door again and his eyes are very different from Geert’s. There is a hunger apparent in him, a naked desire that he takes no trouble to conceal. Geert turns to look at me again and I see there is a question in his eyes. Unseen by the other Dutchman, he tilts his head and his eyes flicker from mine to the new comer. I understand. I pause. I realise I want this more than I am afraid of it. I realise Geert has known this all along. When the other Dutchman is not looking at me, I nod, very slightly and Geert smiles a small secretive smile. It is a moment of confidence unlike any I have known. I am being given a gift of sorts, and I am made a gift. The other Dutchman is introduced again.
Jorn is taller than Geert and his cock is longer. He is a svelte, muscular man with a shock of sun bleached hair. His skin is tanned from outdoor activity and his general appearance is one of vigorous health. Geert by comparison is over weight and swarthy, but I find myself drawn inexorably to Geert. Jorn discards his clothes then sits on the armchair and opens a beer as Geert beckons me to him. I obey and the feeling of nervous energy in my body makes my hands shiver with excitement. Geert stands at the foot of the bed and his cock bobs softly to the rhythm of his heartbeat. I touch it, lifting it to my lips and then aware of being watched by Jorn’s greedy eyes in the corner I take the full length of Geert’s cock into my mouth as his hands run through my hair and clasp my head.
For the better part of five long minutes, Geert works on my mouth with his tool. His hands, strong and determined, control my movements and I am wilfully passive, allowing myself to be used for his pleasure. Jorn sits and watches us in silence and although my eyes are closed, I bath in the pleasure of this experience. I know what both of them want me to do and after a while I gently rearrange myself so I am no longer seated on the bed, but on my hands and knees upon it. It is the sign they have been waiting for, and although I keep my eyes deliberately closed, I can feel Jorn move behind me and his weight transmits his presence on the bed. His hand reaches between my legs and he caresses my balls gently. I squirm with anticipation as I feel his face nuzzle against me, his nose between my buttocks and his tongue touching my perineum. A spasm of electric sensation courses through me and I moan audibly as he begins to lick about my anus. Geert’s cock hardens perceptibly in my mouth and suddenly a rush of sperm almost chokes me. His fingers grip my head and his pelvis jerks with each spurt. I swallow his cum as it flows, letting it run down my throat until he withdraws from me, then as he moves away from me, I bury my face in the bed and breath heavily, moaning with pleasure at the touch of Jorn’s tongue.
I deliberately keep my hands away from myself and Jorn soon ceases to play with my balls. I am already straining to come but now I want to be fucked. I want it more than anything I have ever known and I have my legs spread as open as I can. I feel like I am inviting almost anything to be visited upon me and when Jorn ceases his attentions, gasping with his excitement I answer eagerly to his question as to whether or not I want to lose my virginity. I do.
Jorn climbs off the bed and makes way for Geert who now climbs to kneel behind me. I look back and see his hand softly masturbating as he contemplates me in my vulnerable state. I arch my back ever so slightly to emphasise my submission and his eyes meet mine again sending a surge of inner happiness through me. Jorn hands him a small plastic tube and then retires to the armchair and I wonder if they have done this many times before to other young men.
The lubrication fluid is cold but not unpleasant. Geert’s blunt fingers smear it liberally about my anus then softly he presses a thumb into me, pausing then pressing with the ease of experience. I feel myself tighten as my reflexes react, but after a few moments I find I can relax and accept the intrusion. Geert moves his thumb back and forth and the feeling of intense pleasure I felt with Jorn’s tongue returns causing me to breathe deeply with satisfaction. Geert applies more lube, squeezing a long stream from the top of my cleft which runs down and around his thumb which is still held tightly in my anus. He works the lubricant into me, moving his thumb in and out until I am relaxed. The nervous sensation in my chest is almost painful, my heart beat throbbing in my neck and when he removes his thumb I feel open and exposed in a way beyond my imagination. I know what’s coming next so I take a deep breath. Geert’s cock is far bigger than his thumb and the pressure it exerts on me is such that my muscle instinctively tightens, but Geert has tried this before and he does not show any impatience.
Slowly and deliberately he massages my opening, pressing himself ever deeper and pausing until after a few minutes, gasping with discomfort, I find myself suddenly enveloped by a warm pleasure. My anus finally relaxes and allows him to press his full length into me.
It is at this moment that I finally accept my nature for the sensation and pleasure of being filled by this mans cock impacts upon my mind to such a degree that I feel a rush of emotion bringing tears to my eyes. As Geert begins to move, thrusting slowly yet powerfully into my body, I bury my face in the bed and sob softly with happiness. Each thrust brings a small exclamation from me: a hoarse sigh of satisfaction as my body accepts the intrusion of his cock. I have no idea how long I am fucked by Geert. I am soon prostrate on the bed, pressed down onto my stomach by his weight, grunting with each solid thrust of his pelvis against my body, forcefully driving his shaft deep into me.
Eventually he reaches his climax, long after I have come for a third time, my semen spilled into the bed and smeared against my belly. He grips my hair with one hand and pulls my head back and side ways so that I am facing Jorn who watches from the corner. I can look back and see Geert’s red face, wet with sweat, breathing hard and fast as he empties himself into me with along shuddering groan that reverberates with pride in my heart. I feel utterly at peace. Geert rolls off me and Jorn stands up. His eyes are upon me, questioning and I simply nod. I want more.
Mila
- 22.10.2021
- 6
- 0
