4 comments/  7843 views/  0 favorites

Europa

By: Lonely Knight



The following is a story that came to me as I listened to a remake of Santana's Europa, done by Gato Barbieri. You may wish to try finding it and listen to is as you read. Yes, I am new here and I welcome any and all comments and constructive criticism.

The light from the scattered street lamps reflects eerily on the puddles that have formed in the pothole filled street, while at the same time, creating a luminescence in the darkness as it refracts through each drop of rain as it falls and joins those already amassed below. Above the street in a second floor apartment, she stands, leaning against the worn draperies that surround the window. The rain forms never ending mini rivers as it streaks down the panes of the glass. Not unlike the dimly lit street below, only a single candle placed on the windowsill lights the apartment, as beacon in the night. The flame flickers in the slight draft that finds its way through the worn and ill-fitting, window frame. The light reflects from the windowpane, causing her face to be backlit. As it flickers, shadows dance slowly upon her face.

She is dressed only in a delicate, white lace embroidered bra, pink thigh high stockings, held in place by a white satin garter belt, hidden beneath a short silk slip, also trimmed in delicate lace. Surrounding her gracefully flowing neckline is her collar of midnight blue crushed velvet, studded with small topaz stones, a small blue and yellow ying yang device hanging from the front. Her long, shiny, mahogany brown hair cascades over her shoulders, front and back 

Her eyelids can no longer retain the moisture building in her eyes. Without warning, a single tear begins to slowly slide down her delicate cheek to her jaw. It pauses, and when joined by a second traveling the same path, continues on down to her collar, where it is quickly absorbed into the soft velvet. She longs to see her Master yet again. He has not been to her in many days and a plethora of fears fill her mind. Could something have happened to him? How would she ever know? How would she go on without him? Her heart jumps as she sees someone moving on the sidewalk below, only to be overcome with deepening and painful disappointment as she realizes that it is but a stranger wandering aimlessly in the rain. Somewhere out in the cold and wet darkness of the night, her Master is on his way to be with her. She knows that he will come tonight to end the pain and suffering that consumes her, replacing that pain with the sweet pain that only he can give to her. A pain that is like no other, harsh but gentle, mean and yet ever so loving. He must come tonight, he simply must. Suddenly, a torrent of tears begin their journey down across her cheeks, only to be consumed at the end of their journey as the others, in her now dampening velvet collar.

The raging stream of tears is suddenly stopped at her jaw by a gentle touch. There could be only one touch such as this. She instinctively knows that it is the strong hand of her Master that dams the river of tears at her jaw. The hand moves slowly up across her cheek, removing the tears with a single stroke. Turning slowly, she beholds the image of all that is her life, all that is her will to live, but it is not her Master, or is it? Quickly lowering her head she immediately began to lower herself her knees, only to be stopped and drawn tightly against the massive, rain soaked body before her. His muscular arms softly enrapt her body and hold her close as she begins to weep uncontrollably. He has come. He has come tonight, to her, and will make everything new and beautiful again. Her life will, if but for a brief time, again become like an early spring day. A day filled with birds chirping and flowers opening to reveal their brilliant colors, welcoming the bees and butterflies to collect the pollen hidden deep inside of them. She too will open herself to him.

He gently takes her head in his hands. He tilts it upward and looking deep into her sparkling brown eyes, places his lips lightly upon hers, the touch of their lips as soft and gentle as a summer's breeze. His hands slide slowly down to her supple neck. Moving her mahogany tresses from his way, his fingers deftly unclasp the velvet collar, allowing it to fall to the floor. From his pocket he pulls a necklace of gold. Hanging from it is a golden pendant, fashioned as if to be an angel's wings, filled with emeralds and twinkling diamonds. He places it about her neck and fastens it securely, then once again softly kisses her tear-stained cheek. Yes, her pain has ceased; her true Master has finally arrived and taken her as his. She is now, His angel.

He lifts her into his arms and carries her through the darkness to her bedroom where he places her gently onto what is now their bed. Instinctively she quickly brings her hands above her head and spreads her long silken legs to await the placement of the bindings, only to have her Master take her hands and place them about his neck. Once more he gently kisses her warm moist lips, while they stare deeply into each other's eyes. There will be pleasure and pain this night, but not pain for pleasure. Her Master stands beside the bed and begins to remove his rain soaked clothing, eyes the barely visible paddles, floggers and assorted other instruments on the night stand, smiles in the darkness and lays on the bed beside her. He cups her breast in his massive hand, leans his head forward and quickly takes her erect nipple between his lips, gently squeezes it and pulls it into his mouth. The pleasurable pain has begun....................

Europa



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 child. 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.



European Co-operation



Paris would have been my first choice, With perhaps Rome or Amsterdam second. But Hamburg? It was hardly tourist-land. But Wendy's name had been on the entry form and she had chosen Hamburg.

"We've been to all the others." She said.

It had been one of those "You have been chosen..... " things, which come through the letterbox most days. I had always thought that nobody actually won anything. Wendy had been in one of her 'enter everything' moods and had won second prize. A long weekend for two in either Amsterdam, Brussels, Hamburg, Paris or Rome. She had chosen Hamburg.

"But the only thing Hamburg is famous for is the red light district." I had protested. 

"Yes." She replied. "I have always been curious and we would never go there at our own expense, so here's our chance."

She was right of course and there is a lot more to Hamburg than I had thought.

But this is not a travelogue.

We had arrived at the Hotel late afternoon, unpacked and were ready for the fleshpots. There is a good underground railway system and we took the 'tube' to Sankt Pauli, close to the docks and in the famous 'Reeperbahn'. It means "Rope maker Street", echoing Hamburg's maritime history. Reeperbahn is about a kilometre long and for most of it's length, both sides and the small side turnings are devoted to commercial sex. Sex shops, strip clubs and bars, cinemas, peep shows, live sex shows, shop window brothels. You name it. It's there.

We strolled down one side and back up the other, sampling as we went. We had a drink in one bar offering a live sex show. A bored looking couple were performing on a raised platform in the centre, fucking unenthusiastically to the beat of the loud music. Leaving there, we entered the sex shop next door. Sex toys, magazines and DVDs catering for every taste (and dis-taste) were available. At the back there were cubicles where you could watch the films in private, boxes of tissues were provided to clean up after your wank.

In another sex shop, the cubicles housed girls who, for a few Euros, would masturbate while you watched. For a few more she would provide hand - service for you.

In 'Grosse Freiheit', (Great Freedom) one of the side streets, were located the night clubs. Not yet open, but with photo's and multi-lingual descriptions in glass cases outside, advertising the, quite expensive, shows. We decide to visit one the next evening.

We tried to enter what appeared to be a sort of sex shopping mall, but were stopped and advised that it was 'men only'. Wendy insisted that I went in to have a look, it was still light and she felt quite safe alone. Inside, once my eyes had accustomed to the gloom, were rows of girls, wearing anything from nothing but high heels stockings and suspenders, to full bondage gear. As I came close to each one, after checking what language I spoke, told me in explicit terms what was for sale.

"You can fuck me in the cunt, in the mouth, in the arse or I can wank you with my tits", sort of thing. The prices were remarkably low.

I managed to emerge with still full, but by now, aching balls and described the experience to Wendy. The street girls were now taking their pitches, they are not allowed on the streets until evening. We had one more promenade to see them, then decided we would go back to the hotel for a meal. I needed to work off some of my hornyness and suspected that Wendy too, was ready for it.

The hotel meal was fine, if somewhat bland. Back in our room, we discovered that the television had several porn channels as well as the more conventional ones. We undressed and got into bed. A film was just about to start. It was in German of course, but close ups of giant pricks being sucked, sliding into oily cunts and spraying generously onto naked female flesh needs little translation. The film was well made, properly lit and in sharp focus.

We did not get to the end, my own prick was acting as a tent pole under the bed sheet and before long, Wendy had it in her mouth. As horny as I was, I knew that I could not hold back for long and I wanted to come in her cunt, not her mouth. I pulled her off, spread her on the bed and gave her some of the same treatment. She was running with juice and wide open for my oral caress. I lapped at her juices, then starting right down at her perineum, slowly drew my tongue along the slit until I reached her stiff clit, then took it between my lips and sucked. She came like a train, she had been as ready for it as I was now.

I squirmed up between her thighs and urgently pushed my prong at her vulva. She took charge and fed it into herself, I was ball-deep in a single thrust. I tried to make it last but her hole seemed to be milking me. With a grunt of release I sent my seed hard against her cervix. She was holding me tight against her, convulsing in passion. I think that she was still on the orgasmic high that my mouth had given her.

"I needed that." She declared, after I had rolled off, panting heavily.

As I fought to get my breath back, Wendy shushed me.

"Listen, she said, "what's that?"

I listened. From next door came the unmistakeable sounds of sexual congress, a rhythmic grunt as someone was being steadily rammed.

"Perhaps they are watching a film?" I suggested.

"No, no, lie still, you can feel it as well as hear it."

She was right, you could feel the wall moving. Someone was enjoying what we had just enjoyed. Wendy got out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom, re-appearing with two toothbrush glasses. She handed one to me and pressed the other between the wall and her ear.

"Wendy, really!" I scolded.

She shushed me again. "There are more than two of them," she whispered, "two men and a girl I think."

I positioned my glass close to hers, sure enough, there seemed to be a man's voice encouraging the rutting couple. As we listened, the girl came noisily, her lover accelerated his thrusts until he gave a great groan as he, presumably, ejaculated. It was quiet for a moment or two, then voices again, then the humping started again. Wendy looked at me wide-eyed.

"She's getting seconds," Wendy marvelled, "This group sex is not just in the shows!"

She took the glass from my hand, rolled me onto my back and straddled my hips. She held my rekindled tool upright and after kissing the tip with her moist cunt lips, eased her well lubricated love tube down onto it. She leaned forward, arching her back to bring her clit against the top side of my rod and began to slowly ride it. Her heavy breasts swung gently in time to her movements. She gradually synchronised her strokes to the rhythmic pounding from next door. I moved my head down to grasp at her penduluming tits, occasionally capturing a stiff nipple and sucking on it until it escaped my lips. It was the only movement I needed to make. She was fucking me.

She was breathing heavily, mouth slack, eyes glazed, face and breast flushed. Clearly on the verge of orgasm. She bit her lip, not wanting to climax until our fellow-fuckers did. She did not have to wait long. Cries from next door seemed to crash through he wall above our heads. Wendy let go, screaming loudly, jerking wildly.

"Come in me." She yelled.

I seized her hips and began to ram upwards into her writhing body, racing to cream her while she was still coming. The spunk seemed to scald me as it shot. I too cried out as all the tension released, pouring out through my prick into Wendy's clasping quim.

I did not remember any more until I woke up next morning. I could hear Wendy in the shower. I stretched luxuriously, enjoying that lazy, don't need to get up, feeling. Guiltily, I pressed a glass to the wall above our bed. Nothing. Not even snoring. There was a soft knock on the door and Wendy emerged wrapped in a white bath robe to accept the breakfast tray.

As she placed the tray on the bedside table, I made a lunge for her. She pulled away. 

"Not a chance," she said, "I'm clean, you're smelly. Eat your breakfast and have a shower, then we'll go out. It's a lovely day."

I did as ordered, when I came out of the shower, Wendy was dressed and looking glumly out of the window. It was raining hard. It seems that the Hanseatic weather is as fickle as our own.

I tried to cheer her up. "Let's stay in this morning and try all the Hotel's facilities, Gym, Sauna, Jacuzzi, Swimming Pool."

She brightened at the idea, fancying the Sauna and we made our way down. We took swimsuits and towels from the room. The attendant solemnly handed us bath robes and told us that we should use the towels, which she also provided. We separated into our individual changing rooms, arranging to meet in the Sauna. I wrapped a towel around my waist and headed for the Sauna, hoping that it was empty so that Wendy and I could enjoy some Scandinavian style frolics.

I was disappointed to find the room occupied. Two men about my age were sitting on the lower 'shelves' and a lovely blonde woman was stretched out on her back on the upper level. All three were stark naked.

"Oh! I'm sorry," I stammered, "I should have knocked."

My eyes were glued to the magnificent body of the woman, even lying on her back, her breasts were firm enough to form two delicious mounds , each tipped with a large, dark pink teat. She was shining with fine sweat. She had piercing pale blue eyes which she turned on me.

"English?"

It was more a statement than a question. Before I could answer, the door opened and Wendy swept in. Unlike me, she sized up the situation immediately. She peeled off the white towelling robe she had been wearing, revealing her own lovely curves, gave me a little kiss (Establishing ownership.) and said, 

"Good morning. I'm Wendy and this is David. We are from England."

The two men rose to shake hands, they were Manfred and Peter. The girl held out her hand.

"Eva."

She said. I almost kissed her hand, but settled for a shake. I'm glad I did, I enjoyed the way her tits wobbled as we shook hands. I suddenly felt silly, being the only one with any covering. I removed the towel and sat down in one movement, in an attempt to conceal my thickening manhood. The heat was oppressive at first and my errant probe soon went back down. Wendy took the other top bench.

In almost perfect, if accented, English, (or rather, American,) Eva led the conversation. They were from Dortmund. They worked for the same company. I was later to learn that Eva owned the company. The 'boys' as Eva referred to them, were salesmen and had won a very lucrative order for the company. Eva had taken them to Hamburg for the weekend as a reward. I was almost certain that they were our bonk-buddies from last night and that Eva was part of the reward.

I could not tolerate the heat and said that I must leave.

"Yes," said Eva, "we too must leave, we have had enough heat. Now we will swim."

She led the way, followed by Wendy. I was the last out, just in time to see Eva emerge from the deep, cold plunge pool. Her skin was covered with goose pimples and her nipples were hard, pink bullets. Wendy went next, gasping at the sudden change of temperature. Manfred and Peter 'kindly' let me go next. Had I not been in company, I would not even have considered it. The water was icy, chin deep and agitated by a powerful water-jet. My balls tried to take refuge inside my body and my cock tried to follow them. I leapt out, numb with cold. I watched the other two dunk themselves and was pleased to see them similarly affected.

We had to go to past the dour attendant to get to the pool and were informed that we should wear swimsuits there. Apparently nude was de rigueur for the Sauna, but not for swimming or the Jacuzzi. The swimming pool felt positively hot compared to the plunge pool. I swam a few lengths then headed for the Jacuzzi. Soon, all five of us were sitting in the circular tub. For some reason, this was time limited and when we were asked to vacate, we agreed to meet in the lounge for coffee.

The men were first to the lounge by a good fifteen minutes, during which we chatted. They too, spoke excellent English. When the ladies joined us, Wendy was still looking flushed, perhaps too long in the Sauna? By the time we had finished our coffee, the sun was shining again. Our new friends suggested that we take a coach tour of the town, leaving plenty of time for shopping later.

Eva asked how we planned to spend the evening. Wendy began to look slightly agitated. I said that we might visit one of the live sex shows.

"You must come with us," said Eva, " as our guests. We can show you the best, not known to tourists and we can have dinner at the same place."

Wendy was clearly concerned about something.

"Have your tourist day." Said Eva. "Meet us in the bar at 7:30. If you decide not to, that is not a problem."

As we stood to leave, Eva said to Wendy;

"Speak to David about our conversation."

Back in our room I quizzed Wendy. "What was that about?" Wendy told me about the discussion in the ladies room. it went something like this:

Wendy - "I enjoyed that."

Eva - "Me also. I also enjoyed last night"

"What do you mean?"

"We could hear you fucking your David last night, we have the room next to you."

"Oh that. Yes, we could hear you too."

"The walls are so thin. Bad for such an expensive Hotel. You had two fucks. I also had two, one with each of my boys. Did you ever fuck with two men?"

"Not at the same time, no."

"It's wonderful. We were all tired last night, but when we are not, they each fuck me many times. As one finishes, the other is ready. Sometimes I have the two together, one in my mouth and one in my cunt. It's better still with three, you know, the other hole as well. It's wonderful. You should try. Perhaps I will lend you my two boys, or perhaps swap. I would like to fuck with your David."

"Don't the boys have any say?"

They would not say no, you are very beautiful, they would enjoy fucking you. Will you agree?"

"I will talk it over with David." Wendy concluded.

Well now she had. My mouth had been open all the way through her story. I licked my lips. I was amazed. We had never considered swapping. We had what you might describe as an open marriage. Not wide open, but flexible.

It had started about a year after we were married, I went away with my company on a 'team building' weekend. Instead, I had built a team of two with an attractive married woman from the buying office. It had been a drunken coupling in her room. I could remember little of it next morning, I just woke up in her bed.

I suffered from a serious bout of remorse and told Wendy about it. She was tight lipped for a few days, both above and below the waist, but seemed to write it off. Some weeks later, we were at a party and Wendy appeared after being missing for about fifteen minutes, looking very smug. She linked her arm through mine. "We're even." She smiled.

I knew what she meant and was mortified. We made our excuses and left. The taxi ride home was silent, but once in our own home, Wendy was keen to describe her experience. It had been a 'knee-trembler in the garden. They had snogged and he had fished her tits out of her blouse and sucked them while she rubbed his hard-on through his trousers. She had removed her knickers, unzipped him and taken him standing up against the wall, one leg hooked over his hip. She would not tell me who.

Instead of being annoyed, I was highly aroused. I had a prize winning erection, which did not escape her attention. We stripped there and then and fucked violently on the kitchen table.

We agreed then, not to go looking for it, but not to turn it down if offered. It also had to be in situations like parties, not when we were apart. Wendy got the best of it of course. Men seemed to sense her availability. But I have had my share. It's surprising how many women will drop their knickers in comfortable social surroundings. Part of the agreement is that we must describe the experience, in graphic detail, to each other. It has spiced up our own sex life enormously. If we had a 'dry spell', i.e. no extra - marital sex, for any length of time, one of us would say, "Do you remember when you....." and then re-live, with embellishments, what was remembered of the others tale.

So. What did I think about Eva's proposition. I fancied Eva like crazy, but the thought of Wendy being pegged by two virile studs at the same time? We agreed to do our sight-seeing and decide later. While on the coach trip, I leaned close to Wendy and whispered yes. She gave my prick a little congratulatory rub through my trousers. I was exceedingly hard.

Our new friends were waiting when we came down to the hotel foyer. They surprised us again by leading the way to a chauffeur driven stretched Mercedes which whisked us in luxury to Sankt Pauli.

The club was, from the outside, unobtrusive to say the least. There was a sally - port in the door, our hosts had to show proof of membership before the door was opened. We were signed in as guests, Eva used a card to pay the heavy entrance fee for the five of us. We were led to a quite small, circular room, by a stunningly beautiful girl wearing a long, white sheath dress which was so sheer she might just have well been nude. The thrust of her breasts and nipples were un-obscured. Even her navel was detectable through the thin cloth.

Tables were arranged in a horseshoe shape around a small dance floor. There were three tiers of tables each raised above the others so that each had a clear view of the dance floor. Chairs were on one side of the table only, for the same reason. The other side of each table had a privacy curtain, in heavy, dark red material. Most of the tables were for two, but some were pushed together to accommodate larger parties. There was space between and in front of the tables to allow the waiters and waitresses to do their thing. 

Around the outside, there was a long curving bar with high stools. About a dozen girls in varying attire, but all as revealing as our usherette, were perched on some of the stools. They were, explained Eva, highly talented, but very expensive prostitutes. Any unaccompanied male was approached and offered company for the evening, the hour, or the night. In fact we were asked by the usherette if our 'third gentleman needed a companion. We declined and took our, front row, seats. Our usherette went to join the other girls at the bar.

The head waiter, in full evening dress, materialised at out table, and presented menus while a waitress hovered to take drinks orders. She was in evening un-dress. She wore high heels, stockings and suspenders which disappeared tantalisingly up the legs of black French knickers. A tiny apron completed the ensemble. Pert little titties bobbed as she moved. Peter ordered two bottles of 'Sekt', German bubbly. The waitress bobbled off to fetch it

We selected our meal and sipped sekt while a few couples danced. The food arrived, served by waiters wearing tight boxer shorts, aprons, white cuffs and black bow ties. There chests were completely hairless.

The food was good, accompanied by the sekt and a sexy black singer, singing, we were told, very naughty songs. By the end of the meal we were relaxed and happy, ready for the cabaret. The girls excused themselves to visit the ladies, Manfred leaned over and said:

"I suggest that you make a pinkel, you will have an erection for the rest of the evening which may make you uncomfortable."

So the three of us trooped out to the loo. There can be no equal to that toilet. The urinals were pink and shaped like gaping vulvas. As I stood at one of them, water softly trickled from it's pee-hole in an automatic flush. At the hand basins, the soap dispenser was a miniature sculpted woman, knees raised, legs apart. You pressed either tit and her open cunt dispensed soap! The 'tap' was a slack penis which peed warm water when your hands were under it. There were large CCTV screens, currently displaying only the empty dance floor and the decoration was highly erotic, showing every imaginable sexual act, both hetero- and homo-.




European Co-operation



Ann told me later that the ladies were similar. No urinals of course and the soap dispensers were erect pricks which spunked soap when the foreskin was pulled back! I could not resist a peep into one of the cubicles, but was disappointed to find a normal pan and cistern. Bog-standard in fact.

This allowed the other two to leave before I did and returning alone was immediately accosted by one of the bar girls. She was gorgeous. Her dress had a deeply plunging neckline which gaped open when she bent towards me. I could clearly see the dark areola which tipped each fine breast. She addressed me in good English, would I like to go upstairs with her?

The pleasures on offer were not described quite so explicitly as in the Sex-Mall, she indicated rather than spoke, the various places where I cold put my dick. "Or we can do tying up, or pissing. Whatever you like."

The price quoted added a nought to those at the supermarket.

"I am with my wife." I countered.

" I can do her also, or she can just watch."

I politely declined and returned to the table. As I took my place in the centre of the fivesome, between Ann and Eva, Eva said,

"Be careful, they are not always female."

I shot another glance back to the bar. Amazing. I would not have guessed.

The sound system was asking people to take their seats, the show was about to begin.

The house lights dimmed quickly the came back slowly. I those few seconds, it seemed that the dance floor had been replaced, or perhaps covered by, another floor, with a couch in the centre. At opposite sides of the floor were two figures. The man was at about the nine o-clock position, the girl at three o-clock, both facing out. They were both completely nude. She was black, he was white. But that is an over-simplification. He was very white, with a halo of pale blonde hair. All his other hair had been shaven, including his pubes, making his endowment, hanging at rest, seem even bigger. He was oiled all over. Gleaming in the stage lighting.

"Oh wow!" Gasped Ann.

The girl was ebony to his ivory. She seemed matt black. Powdered perhaps. She was completely shaven, head as well. She had the form of a dancer, taut and muscled. She had those sugar loaf tits that were almost the sole domain of afro-Caribbean women until implants became available. Her high, firm arse competed with the tits for sheer grabbability. She slowly turned towards us, her vaginal cleft was high and prominent with bulging outer lips.

"Oh wow!" Said I.

They began a slow, balletic dance, at first without contact but with movements designed to show every fold and crack of their bodies. Her cunt was dark red inside as it was stretched open with her lewd movements. Eventually they began to touch, more and more closely until the were wrapped like mating snakes. Soon she too, shone with oil transferred from him. He lifted her high and slowly turned her upside down, then lowered her down his front to where his prick was now standing up to meet the thick lips which she slid around his straining shaft. He then buried his face into her gaping cunt.

When he came up for air his lower face shone with her juices. She released her oral grasp on his tool and he turned her again. This time when he lowered her she became impaled on his cunt-hook. He walked slowly around the edge of the stage, pausing at each table to thrust in and out of her. She arched her back, head thrown back and tits pointing at the ceiling.

He carried her centre stage and laid back on the couch, she sat astride him, bent forward so that we could see his cock sliding in and out of her hole. Without disengaging, she turned to face his feet and the fucking resumed. Finally, he rolled her under him then pulled her up by the hips so that he could pound at her doggy style. I could hear the squelch as he pumped into her. They seemed to orgasm, probably simulated, separated and took their bow.

The audience applauded enthusiastically, but there were no encores, instead, the soft electronic voice just announced the next act. This time the lights snapped off, giving the audience no time to become accustomed to the dark while the props were changed. 

The next act was a lesbian performance, no sleek male nudes for the ladies to gag over, but their turn would come later. The Sapphic frolic was well staged and well acted. It was set, I would guess, in the 1950's, in the sleeping compartment of a train. The sound effects indicating a steam train. The compartment started off empty, then one girl entered and put her bag on the rack. She was followed by a second girl, who did the same. They were dressed fifties style and each wore a little hat, one with a veil. They came to an agreement about who should have the top bunk and began to undress.

Off came the winter coats, followed by the dresses. They both wore stunning, prick-stiffening lingerie, the sort which garnishes a woman's body. Both facing the bunks, one girl looked long and hard at the skimpily clad backside of the other, then put out a hand to fondle a buttock. The other girl frowned at her, but then returned the compliment. They kissed, embraced, kissed some more, fondled each others tits and arses. Slowly the bra's and knickers were discarded. Just high heels, stockings and suspenders now. And the hats.

More fondling and now some tit sucking. Then one girl sat widespread on the lower bunk, the other went down on her cunt. They ended up in a torrid sixty-nine, but not before the one with torpedo like tits had pushed each one in turn into the others fuck-hole and had the resulting sticky deposit licked off. By the time it ended I was not sure that I could hold on to the reservoir of spunk which was building in my balls. How many stiff pricks were out in the open under cover of those tables? And how many hands sliding up and down them? How many wet pussies were being stuffed full of fingers? I thought that I would come in my pants, but before it could happen, the girls finished each other off, kissed goodnight and climbed into their own beds. The act was finished, lights snapped off and the voice announced the next act.

This was different. The house lights were left on, but dimmed. Mr Mesmer - a hypnotist. Tall, dark and handsome. Dressed entirely in black and with a matching goatee beard and a moustache. His assistant was equally striking. A tall oriental girl in an ankle length dress. The dress had a high neck, so that she was covered from neck to ankle, but like the bar girls, the dress hid nothing, merely serving to accentuate what was beneath. The dress was slit both sides to hip level, long shapely legs were revealed when she moved.

The man started his act, with a low deep monotone, he caressed our ears. He meshed his fingers together by lacing the fingers of one hand through the backs of the other. The audience did the same. Ann and I joined in, even though we could not understand what he was saying. He stopped speaking and pulled his own hands apart. I did the same, as did most of the audience, but ten people, three men and seven women, could not unlock their fingers!

Among those still locked were Ann and Eva. We were sitting boy - girl - boy - girl - boy, with me in the middle, so when invited by the assistant, Manfred and Peter had to stand to let the girls out. The assistant arranged them in a curving line at the edge of the stage, facing the rest of us. They really did seem to have their hands glued together. The hypnotist moved along the line behind them, speaking softly. When he discovered that Ann spoke no German, he unlocked her and sent her back to her seat. She swears that her hands were genuinely stuck together. He gradually sent others back until there were two women and three men left on stage.

He had these five doing silly things, pretending they were chickens, soldiers marching etc. The he got down to the X-rated part. Peter translated for me while Manfred did the same for Ann. The hypnotist told the women to pretend that they were in sexual ecstasy. Eva squeezed her left tit with her right hand and rubbed her mound with the other. The other woman squeezed both tits while rubbing her thighs together. Both were fully dressed of course.

The hypnotist turned his attention to the men.

"Look at those women wanking," he said, "would you like to wank?"

One of the men nodded and began to 'air wank'. The other two were reluctant and were quickly retuned to their seats.

Mr Mesmer went back to the females.

"Are you wearing stockings or tights?" He demanded.

Both confirmed stockings.

"Are you wearing knickers?" He went on. Both nodded yes.

"Show me." He commanded.

Both women seized the hems of their skirts and peeled their dresses over their heads. Eva revealing a pale blue bra and pants, with matching suspenders supporting black stockings. But she was trumped by the other girl. She wore red shoes and red underwear, but her bra was, well, frontless. It shelved her breasts on platforms supported by red straps either side and between her magnificent tits. Each tipped with a large, very stiff, dark nipple.

The audience went wild, cheering and clapping. The woman shook her tits at them in response.

"I think that we have a winner."

Said the hypnotist. He de-tranced Eva, gave her the red rose from his buttonhole and the assistant led her back stage to re-dress. He turned to the man, who was still wanking.

"Stop that!" He ordered. "You'll go deaf."

He looked at the woman in red and then back to the man.

"Would you like to fuck her?"

He asked. The man nodded enthusiastically.

"Go on then." Said hypno-man.

The man pulled the woman to him, she wrapped one leg around him, Tango style, he gripped her bum-cheeks and began to dry-hump her. The hypnotist allowed this to go on for about a minute, then stopped him.

"That's enough," he said, "save some for your wife."

The assistant handed the hypnotist a large, black vibrator, he offered it to the man.

"Now fuck yourself," he ordered, "up the arse."

This time there was no response. The man was sent back to his seat.

I have read that, under hypnotism, a person will only go as far as his sub-conscious 'conscience' will allow. The man, like the others, had reached this point. But Eva had not, she had been dismissed for a faked up reason. Just how far would she have gone?

The hypnotist circled his last victim, admiring her body.

"What is your name?" He asked.

"Anna."

"A beautiful name, Anna. Remove your knickers, Anna."

Anna obliged. I almost fainted. She was unshaven down there. A fetish of mine, probably dating back to my youth, when pussies were furry. I like shaven havens, or fully bushed, I don't favour the current trend for 'Brazilian' strips, even though Wendy complies with the fashion.

"Do you like to suck cock, Anna?

She looked at him disdainfully.

"Of course, does not every one?"

The hypnotist turned to the audience and grimaced.

"Ich nicht." He mouthed. "Not me."

"Would you like to suck mine, Anna?"

Anna nodded.

The assistant helped him strip. His cock stuck out from his body. He took hold of it and offered it to Anna.

She did not kneel, she bent at the waist and drew him between her red lips, sucking noisily. She had her back to me and was no more than six feet away. She had her legs apart, her stockings stretched to the limit, shapely arse framed by the suspenders. Her lower lips protruded through the hair, shining with her juice. I could practically taste her.

He pushed her away, I could see lipstick on his shaft.

"Do you like to eat pussy, Anna?" Anna nodded again.

"Would you like to eat hers?"

Indicating his assistant. Another nod.

The assistant turned to allow the man to unzip her dress, full length, from neck to hem. The dress fell away revealing her fine body, nude apart from shoes.

She sat, then reclined on the couch, drew up her knees and spread them. In contrast to the other woman, she was shaven down there. She pulled her cunt lips apart and began to play with herself. Anna bent again, but this time with legs together. Her sex lips now were pushed out between her upper thighs by the pressure. Her arse thrust out, tits dangling free. She applied her mouth to the other girls gape and once again slurped noisily.

The hypnotist grinned wickedly to the audience and positioned himself behind sucking woman. He thumbed apart her plump wet lips, and positioned his shiny knob at her entrance. With one steady push he sheathed his sword in her scabbard. He pumped for a short time, then, first the licked, the licker and then the fucker grunted with orgasm.

Act three was over. The lights snapped out, then slowly rose and an intermission was announced. The waitresses returned to take drinks orders and Eva returned to her seat. She had stayed at the back until the act finished. We decide to have coffees.

"Look."

Said Eva, indicating the bar area. Except for one, the bar girls were gone, upstairs doing business. Five seats were now occupied by men. The remaining bar girl was knelt between the legs of one of them, sucking his prick. As we watched, she finished him off, stood, took a mouthful of her drink, then knelt before the next man!

"She has been all the way along the row." Said Eva. "Would you like to be next?"

"Not if she's a man. " I replied.

Eva grinned. She kissed me then slid down in her seat, beneath the table. She undid my pants, took out my straining boner and in one gulp, took four inches into her hot mouth. The rest of my body went rigid.

"What's happening?" Asked Ann.

I took her hand and placed it on the exposed root of my shaft. Wendy gasped and gave me an astonished look. But the hand stayed there.

The waitress arrived with coffee cups and gave me a broad grin, Eva's feet must have been sticking out from under the table! The waitress placed the cups on the table as I erupted deep into Eva's mouth. She swallowed the lot and when my tool had softened enough, tucked it back into my trousers. She emerged as a waiter was topping up the cups with coffee. She kissed me on the mouth. I could taste my own spunk.

"Cream Madam?" The waiter enquired.

"Thank you no. I have just had some." Eva replied. 

During the break we discussed the show so far. We agreed that the orgasms were faked and that the hypnotist's 'victim', had been part of the act. But both Wendy and Eva insisted that they had been under the control of Mr Mesmer. Would Eva's sub-conscious inhibitions have stopped her from going all the way on-stage? Or would she have fucked the hypnotist?

"Oh yes," she replied, "naturally."

Act four was announced, the lights dimmed quickly. Lights up and the only thing on stage was an artificial tree. A young black man ran through the curtains and hid behind the tree. Seconds later, a white man dressed in jodhpurs, a loose shirt and a floppy brimmed hat entered. He was carrying a thick stick. He soon found the black boy and dragged him centre stage using a chain which was fastened around the boy's neck - Slave and Master.

The boy just wore ragged shorts. The man raised the stick as if to hit the boy, but the boy pleaded with him not to. He would do anything. The man rubbed his chin, then stripped off his clothes. He gestured towards his soft prick and the boy knelt before him to suck it. Soon the white prick was stiff and the boy sucked expertly at the thing. The man pushed him away and gestured for the boy to remove his shorts and bend in front of him. He stroked his erection while the boy obeyed.

Both naked now, the man approached the boy from behind and lined up his cock with the boy's arse. A prod or two and the tip was in. He let it rest a second, then pushed all the way in until his balls rested on those of his victim. He began to bugger the boy vigorously, his balls slapping against the boy's cheeks. He reached round and grasped the boy's cock, now also stiff and began to wank it. The boy straightened up to let the audience see the action, then ejaculated powerfully into the air. Jet after jet of white come arcing gracefully out of his thin black cock. An astonishing amount of spunk spattering onto the stage. The man roared and pumped his own spunk into the boy's entrails. This was real. When he pulled out, we were allowed to see come running back out of the boy's ravished arse-hole.

Wendy's fingers were digging painfully into my thigh, her mouth was open and she was breathing hard. I placed my own hand on her knee and slid it up to the junction of her thighs. I found a hand already there, massaging her mound through her knickers. Manfred was getting acquainted. I withdrew my own hand and gave her a good luck kiss.

The lights came up for the next act. Centre stage was a 'stake', with a man lashed to it. The stake was T shaped and had a block about a foot off the ground for the man's bare feet. His arms were tied to the cross-piece, so that his body also formed a T. He wore loose black trousers and a loose white shirt. The sort of blouse/shirt that film stars wore in Hollywood pirate movies. He sort of hung from his bonds, chin on chest.

A woman entered. She wore a red leather costume. Cut high on her hips, neck high at the front but with a cut-out over her cleavage and apart from a series of thin leather thongs, backless. The costume was very tight and moved with her. Thigh high stiletto heeled boots to match and a mask which covered the top part of her face and hair completed the ensemble. In her right hand was a long, black whip.

She walked slowly in a circle around the tethered man, trailing the whip. The man did not move. She paused before him. She removed a white carnation that had nestled in the cleavage cut out and tossed it high in the air. The whip snaked out with a swish and a loud crack, which brought squeals from some of the audience. The shattered flower fell like snow back to the stage. The man took notice.

She prowled again, but this time the man's eyes followed. The whip cracked again. This time the man's shirt was torn from him. Again and his pants followed. He was now naked. His cock hung limply. She used the thick handle of the whip to lift it for inspection, then let it fall back. Again she prowled. This time when she stopped, her hand went to the neck of her costume and she gently pulled it away, revealing her own fine nudity. Now his cock showed interest.

Another prowl. Another pause. She began to taunt him with her body, writhing in front of him, rubbing the whip-handle between her tits and sucking it as though is was a stiff prick. Soon, his was. Very. The whip snaked out and wrapped itself around his shaft. It brought tears to my eyes. She slowly allowed the lash to uncoil, giving him a rotary wank.

Finally she lay on the floor in front of him, knees raised and apart and slowly fed the whip-handle into her gaping cunt. She fucked herself with the makeshift dildo, squirming in passion. Suddenly his prick twitched and shot a stream of semen over her reclining body, spurt after spurt splashing onto her. Spontaneous ejaculation? Why not, I was close to it myself.

The lights snapped off. When they came back on, a couch was on stage. The couch, which had seen action several times that evening. At the back of the stage were several Corinthian columns. On stage was a roman soldier, - The Centurion. (Even though he seemed only to have four men.) He was inspecting the couch and it's surroundings. When satisfied he called to his men, - The Praetorian Guard. They entered in single file, two soldiers, followed by six girls in see-through, white ankle length costumes, - The Virgins, then two more soldiers. The girls were lined up near the front of the stage, facing the audience. They were lit from behind so that their shapes could be seen through the thin costumes.

The Centurion left the stage and came back preceded by a vary small man in a purple toga. - The Emperor. He inspected the six girls, front and back, then indicated to the Centurion that they should be undraped. The Centurion gestured to his men and they unfastened the dresses at the neck and allowed them to pool around the girls ankles. Six very lovely naked 'virgins'.




European Co-operation



The Emperor made another inspection. He did not touch the girls, but ordered the Centurion to squeeze an occasional buttock or lift a tit. Which the Centurion did with enthusiasm. The Emperor made his choice, two girls. The others were allowed to retrieve their dresses and leave. Now one girl was ordered to dis-robe her master. The other girl was led to and laid on, the couch. Virgin one was told to kneel and suck the imperial cock up to stiffness. For a 'virgin', she seemed to know exactly what to do. When she came up for air, the Emperors baton was fully erect. It was huge! Even allowing for the diminutive form of it's owner, if was quite a weapon.

One of the guards held down virgin two by the shoulders, while two more guards raised and parted her legs. We were treated to a fine view of the fruit on offer. Virgin one gave the Emperor's sceptre another suck and guided it to the appointed place. Virgin two gave a little squeal as her 'virginity' was taken and then the Emperor began to shaft her royally. The guards withdrew to the back of the stage, ex-virgin two seemed now not to need holding down. She was enjoying it. He pulled out and ordered her turned, then re-entered doggy-style and resumed the fucking.

The four guards and the Centurion now had erections lifting the front of their tunics. Two of the guards put their hands up their skirts and began to wank. When the Centurion noticed, they were ordered to stop. The Emperor was close to climax, he jerked his bum as the imperial seed was spilled into the depths of his sex-slave. He pulled out and virgin one came forward to clean his prick with her mouth. Then she left.

He left the stage after giving the guards permission to use the now de-flowered girl. The guards stripped and lined up for their turn. One by one they climbed on top and gave her their best. Then they placed her on her knees and had her two at a time, one in the mouth, one in the cunt. The Centurion stood and watched, stroking his own ready cock.

The guards finished, one way or another and retreated to the rear of the stage. The Centurion bent to closely examine the now well-used slit. He stood up and castigated the four guards for making her so wet and slack, how was he going to get a grip in this over-bored hole? The guards left the stage while the Centurion considered his dilemma. Which did not take long, placing her on all-fours, he rammed his cock into her only un-used hole and sodomised her violently.

Satisfied, he pushed her off the couch and laid himself down. She gathered her flimsy garment to her and curled up at the foot of the couch. The lights dimmed slightly and soon he was snoring loudly. The girl stood up, checked to see if he really was asleep, the tip-toed off stage. She came back with the other five girls. All, for some reason, still nude. But who's complaining?

At a signal from ravished woman, they pounced on the sleeping Centurion. There was much flailing of limbs, then a loud cry from him. The girls slipped away. He was tied across the couch, face down. Protruding from his backside was the blade of his Gladius, the short Roman sword. He had been buggered with the handle of his own weapon!

The lights snapped off, came up again and the entire company returned to take their bows. Not a stitch of clothing between them. The waiters rapidly appeared with the bills for each table. Eva used her card again to pay ours. The show was over. But not the evening.

The Mercedes was outside the door, the chauffeur opened the door for us. Eva and I sat in the rear facing seat, while Peter and Manfred drew Wendy down between them on the back seat. Before the car even started moving they had each liberated a tit from the top of Wendy's dress and were feasting on the nipples. Below the waist they pulled the hem of her skirt up to it's limit and Wendy co-operated by lifting her bum from the seat so that they could pull the dress up around her waist.

The light in the back of the car was dim, but good enough to allow a clear view of proceedings. Wendy was knickerless. Where had they gone? More surprisingly, she was hairless! Where had that gone? She was furry this morning! Her defoliation allowed a clear view of her vulva, which was gaping wide, courtesy of her legs being spread by the boy's feet, one hooked around each of Wendy's calves. Not that she needed help, she appeared to be loving it. Manfred and Peter each had an arm around Wendy's waist, the spare hands were at work on her twat. Peter spread her lips while Manfred strummed her clit. Above the waist they alternated in kissing her mouth, while the other sucked on a stiff nipple. Her own hands were not idle, she had a stiff prick in each. But she was far too aroused to give either proper attention, she just held them tight, almost as though they were handles.

I had an arm around Eva and the hand of that arm had a firm grip on one of her breasts. My other hand was in her lap, fondling her mound through her dress. Her hand was on my boner, but we were both too entranced by the scene opposite to take our own gropings seriously. The boys brought Wendy to a shuddering climax just as the car pulled up outside the hotel.

The three opposite adjusted their clothing enough not to be arrested and we spilled out of the car, through the hotel doors and into the lift. The room keys were those credit card things, so no delay at reception. We went to their room, which was like ours but opposite handed. King size bed, large sofa, large TV. There was a race to be first undressed, then the boys pushed Wendy down onto the bed and started work on her.

She was lying at the foot of the bed, with her legs draped over the end. Peter spread her legs and went, tongue first, for her hairless crack. Manfred knelt at the other end and fed his erection into her mouth. Eva and I had to make do with the couch, but it had the advantage of a fine view of the bed action. I was desperate to get my cock into Eva's cunt, but did not want to relinquish the view of my wife being seen to. Eva solved the problem by sitting on my lap, feeding me into her wet hole as she did so.

Perfect. Cock fully encased in Eva's warm slot, hands free to explore her fine tits, alternating with rubbing her oily bud. Eva joined in with this, rubbing her own clit just the way she preferred. Peter brought Wendy off again with his mouth, then quickly moved to slip his prick into her dripping, gaping cunt. His need was great, he humped frantically to bring himself off. I was close again, but decided that I would try not to come just yet. I had already spent twice today. I knew that I could come again, probably a fourth time, but five may have been beyond my reach.

I mused that, assuming the boys had not yet come today, and if they were capable of four or even five ejaculations, Wendy could well be on the sticky end of ten! As it turned out she was to get even more.

Peter began to thrust jerkily, pumping his stuff into Wendy. Eva, who was wanking herself in time with his thrusts, bore down onto my prong and shuddered into her own climax.

Manfred pulled out of Wendy's mouth, quickly came round the bed and pulled Peter off her, quickly taking his place. He too, seemed to be in training for the sex Olympics, racing for the finish. It took him no more than a couple of minutes to send a second helping of semen to join that of his fellow fucker.

"You're next."

Said Eva, standing up and disengaging me from her adorable cavity. I did not want to fuck Wendy, I wanted Eva, but Eva had decided.

"Imagine how Wendy will feel to be fucked by three men." She explained.

She pushed me into place between Wendy's thighs, still delightfully garnished by stocking tops and suspenders, and literally fed me into Wendy's overflowing quim.

It felt warm, wet and wide, but deliciously dirty and I could not help beginning to bang into her. "Yes," I thought, "three loads of come in quick succession. How wonderful to be a woman. And quick it was, I was squirting in no time, spurt after hot spurt into the already come filled hole.

I rested inside Wendy until I went soft, then slipped out, followed by a near torrent of spunk. Eva pushed me out of the way and applied her mouth to staunch the flow, slurping frantically at the rich, three cock cocktail. My prick snapped back to full attention, I had never seen a hornier sight. My whore-for-the-night, sucking the combined prick-loads of three men's spunk from my wife's ravished cunt.

Eva's arse bobbed invitingly before me, her slit bulging out between her squeezed together thighs, framed by suspenders and stockings. I stepped up to the mark, applied my bulging tip to her tight entrance and slid deep into heaven. Eva brought Wendy off yet again, then turned to watch me power into her. Wendy propped herself up on her elbows so that she too, could enjoy the show. This time seemed to take ages, I thought that I might have to take a break and come back later. But no. There was the unmistakeable feeling of a rising climax. It hurt as I spouted, but spout I did.

I was now reduced to the role of spectator, but there was plenty to watch. The boys used Wendy relentlessly. At no time was there not one or other of the pricks in one or other of her holes. They fucked her singly and together. Every position was used to keep her entertained. Cunt, mouth and arsehole were repeatedly pumped full of spunk.

Eventually they took a break for drinks. Wendy shone with sweat and spunk. Eva suddenly said;

"Shower."

Good idea, I thought, I could do with cleaning up. But a trip to the bathroom was not what she meant. Wendy was told to lie on the bed, on her back. The boys stood one at each side and began wanking their re-aroused cocks. They were going to shower Wendy with come! Eva pulled me onto the bed and positioned me between Wendy's legs, reached over and began to pull at my depleted prick. Amazingly, I felt the sap rise yet again, inspired by the wanking men and what they were about to do.

With a great cry, Peter came first. An unbelievable amount of semen poured from him onto Wendy's face. She opened her mouth to catch it, licking her lips as they were splashed with the stuff. Manfred erupted next and directed his stream onto Wendy's heaving tits. Wendy's fingers were a blur between her legs as she frantically rubbed her clit. This was Eva's chosen target. When I did eventually come, she aimed the spurts at the junction of Wendy's thighs.

There was another break, then the boys started on Wendy yet again. Each combination was re-tried, each hole plugged and re-plugged. Eva lay alongside Wendy raised and spread her legs in a frog position and said to me,

"Once more. In my arse

How could I refuse? It was sweet agony to push my depleted tool into the tight, forbidden hole of her anus. Eva turned to Wendy and kissed her on the mouth as I drove myself to one last hurrah. I came. Weakly, but there was something. Then I was finished. Possibly I thought, for life!

I sat back on the couch with a drink and watched the others continue their sport. Now with three more available holes, the boys demands on Wendy were reduced. How could they possibly keep this up. Eventually, they too were spent. Rather sheepishly, Wendy and I gathered up our cloths and said goodnight.

It was late when we awoke. We tapped at our neighbours door. No reply. We hurried down for breakfast, enquired at the desk for our friends, but were informed that they had left early. We packed in silence and made our way to the airport. We were able to catch the next plane home. There was little in the way of conversation.

I was able to get it up again. Quite soon. Eva had not spoiled me forever. Wendy too, was soon back to normal, if rather sore.

Exactly one week following our night of debauchery, I gave her a big bunch of flowers and kissed her. "Good choice, Hamburg." I said.



European Grooming



It has often been said that if you met a Homo Erectus in the street and wearing clothes, you wouldn't dream of wondering if she was really a person... a human being. I'd been wandering around the paloeanthropology gallery at the London Natural History Museum for about half an hour. Most people just dip in and out of the galleries, but with me in taking their time, was an unlikely looking American couple. She, late twenties, I guessed. Clearly an expert in the field and explaining exhibits in detail to her younger, taller, conservatively dressed, male companion. It was her commentary that first caught my attention, but when I peeped round the display, what I saw kept it.

She was a bit shorter than me with spiky, short pink hair and an elfin face. Her eyes were alive, green and intelligent, complexion pale with freckles around her nose. She wore a knee length, light weight summer coat over a green, much shorter skirt and a green and black striped jumper. On her feet were Docs with a spring flower design, and she wore over-the-knee green and black striped socks which left an enticing band of bare leg below her skirt hem.

I love the Natural History Museum. My Dad used to bring me here on Sunday afternoons to wonder at the dinosaurs. I would gaze in awe at the allosaurus skeleton in the great hall and hope that I'd make friends with some other little girl. The ritual was always the same; I'd swap tentative glances with someone who was just as shy yet just as eager as me to have a companion with whom to have adventures in the darkened galleries. We'd circle around each other, testing, sounding each other out, orbiting closer until eventually, much to Dad's amusement, we'd speak and within thirty seconds become firm friends. At least, firm friends for the rest of that afternoon.

I felt like I was a kid again, circling around the display cases. Was it deliberate that we were now standing looking at the same exhibit; a magnificent diorama with a disconcertingly life-like, and startlingly human looking in her nudity, Homo Erectus woman gazing out at us? We had seemed to be being drawn to one another... catching each other's eye across a display case or around a cabinet or marble column, and quickly looking away again. Contriving to get close without seeming to do it on purpose, then exchanging smiles over naive questions from the man. And now, here we were, standing side-by-side, the tension feeling like static in my hair, drawing me towards her... but our eyes were fixed on the woman behind the glass.

"Gee, I think she needs to wax!"

In that instant, the ice was broken... all the tension evaporated as the grin spread across my face and I heard myself teasing; "Ah, I guess she's probably European". And as she laughed, I felt her arm slide around my back and her hand trace across the contours of my bottom, pausing perhaps a little longer than necessary at the place where she may find my pantie line. I smiled and looked into her eyes, finding a wicked glint in the languid pools of pupils so large I felt I might drown.

"Trimmed but not shaven", I replied to her unspoken question... and I saw her swallow, licking her lips seductively as, without taking her eyes from mine, she guided my hand inside her coat, placing it on the smooth skin above her socks. Now I swallowed as she guided my hand higher until I felt the thin soft cotton of her panties, slightly damp over her obviously shaved sex. 

As I moved her panties aside, I realised I could feel her fingers exploring me too and I knew we were lost... I found her rhythm quickly and soon we were as one. I knew my climax was coming as surely as thunder follows lightning, and hers was coming too... two long-lost sisters seeing each other from a distance before running together and exploding into a passionate embrace that neither wants to let end. The waves crashed over me and I felt the muscles between my lover's lips throb in time with mine. My eyes were closed and my world was focused on that ecstatic pulsing deep below my tummy. In my wetness her fingers moved and sparks of electricity seared over my skin, finding my nipples and releasing my aftershocks. And eventually we were still... holding each other close, watching the world reappear through misty eyes.

"Gotta run", she said as she slipped her card into my hand, "need to find my nephew and get to the airport". The tremors were still making my legs weak and the world still felt like marshmallow as she leaned in and kissed me deeply. Later, I sat in the cafe reflecting on my second orgasm in this museum, thinking I seem to be making a habit of it. Carolee was the name on the card... and in the summer, she's taking me to the Smithsonian...



European History 201



I can't say I was driven to be a teacher. It's something that I kind of fell into. I was really interested in World History during school and that's what I majored in college. 

However, there's not a big call for professional historians so I chose the academic route. I knew I didn't want to teach grade school or high school so it was on to my Master's and then my Doctoral degrees. 

That was 25 years ago and the life has had its rewards. I met my wife, also a college professor, and we've been together now 15 years. 

Right now, things are kind of rough though. Who am I kidding? They suck, especially now with me on leave and traveling across the country. 

I've been blessed to have been offered a temporary spot at an Ivy League University. "Guest Professor" as you will. Last fall I was in the south and I'll be here just the spring semester. My wife is back home. 

Needless to say, it kind of sucks. I haven't seen her in months, but even when I was with her last, all we did was fight. We fight a lot lately.

Anyway, as I said, being a university professor has its ups and downs. Tenure is great. Tenure and summer vacation. I really don't have to worry too much about my job, especially considering life out in the workforce and the economy these days. 

The downside is that I'm supposed the produce research. Yuck! I'm supposed to be published. And teach! Now, don't get me wrong, teaching is rewarding and all but, seriously, some of these kids shouldn't be out of high school let alone in college. Our future! Be very afraid people.

As I was saying, there are a few perks that go with teaching, like the girls. I know I'm supposed to be above it all, the trusted position I've been put in and all of that, but I'm still a man. You have no idea the temptations that exist. 

I was strong for the longest time and then one of my colleagues showed me a Playboy magazine, the college girl's issue. Sure enough, one of my students, Sarah, had her picture in there. 

My God, the body on that girl! She hid it so well with those baggy clothes. Sarah certainly didn't look that good in my class. Seeing her naked like that was so incredibly hot. From then on, it's been a struggle for me. 

I stand before 200 hundred students, lecturing in a large auditorium. Most of you have been to college and know the kind of room I'm talking about. Semi-circular, with set-back stadium seating that allows each student a clear view of me, down front and center. 

Have any of you actually been down there when class is in session? Let me tell you what I see. At eye level are a couple of rows. It never fails. There's always some pretty girl, or girls, sitting there. 

Invariably, one of them will wear a short skirt and, unconsciously or not, sit the whole class with their legs just kind of splayed open. Eye level! Mmmmmm, all the pussy's I've seen. Like I said, I'm still a man.

Of course, I've never acted on these urges. But it's hard, please excuse the pun, when one of these sexy little co-eds make's her way down to the lectern after class to ask me some benign questions. How does she expect me to focus after I've been staring at her sweet little pussy for the last 50 minutes? Sometimes I just have to go back to my office, close the door and jerk off.

That's how I got myself into this mess in the first place. Like I said before, I'm here without my wife. Our marriage isn't the greatest to begin with but at least I'd get sex every once in a while. But not now! Needless to say, I'm so horny I could bust.

Now, there are three types of girls in my classes. First, the pretty ones. They really need no further explanation. They're hot and every guy in the class would love to bang them. 

Second, there are the ugly girls. The one's in class no guy wants to bang. Finally, the largest contingent is the regular girls. Over the years, I've found myself more and more attracted to the regular girls. 

Because of Sarah I think. She was a regular girl but once I saw that body she kept hidden beneath those clothes, I find myself imagining what my other female students looked like. Girls like Dawn Sanders.

Dawn was in my 200 level European History class. She was an average student at best. Average looking too. Maybe 5-6, shoulder length brown hair done neatly, brown eyes behind dark framed glasses. 

Since it was still winter, Dawn always wore sweatshirts or big sweaters under her overcoat, either with baggy jeans or sweatpants, so it was hard to get a read on her body. The typical college look for a typical girl. 

Like I said, a regular girl. Her questions were neither provocative nor insightful. Really, sometimes you wonder why these kids are here, even if it is an Ivy League school.

During the fifth week of the semester, I had scheduled an exam. It was clearly identified in the syllabus so there should have been no confusion. Well, Dawn got confused. 

She failed to show up for class that morning. Her and about 10% of the class. My experience has told me that these were the students who were dropping and sure enough they were. All that is, except for Dawn.

She came down to the podium after the next lecture when she realized she had missed the exam. She stood at the end of the line of questioning students, fidgeting as she waited for her turn. "Dr. Brown, can I speak with you for a second?" she asked.

Looking up at her as I gathered my paper I said, "Sure Miss. What can I do for you?" Her hair still had that freshly shampooed fragrance.

"Sanders. I'm Dawn Sanders. I'm sorry. I don't know how it happened, but somehow I screwed up and missed the test. Is there any way I can make it up?" Her eyes were frantic behind those dark glasses.

Now, I've heard just about every excuse there is for a student to miss an exam. Somewhere along the way, students think make-up exams are easier. They're not. They're just a pain in the ass for me and my TA's. 

But, since I'm a visiting scholar this semester, I have no TA's. I have to grade all of my own tests and papers. BORING! And I really didn't want to go out of my way, especially for no reason. But, invariably, I had to ask, "Why did you miss the exam Miss Sanders?"

"I – I don't know Dr. Brown. I – I just missed my alarm and didn't wake up in time. I studied all night and fell asleep, right through the alarm and missed the test. By the time I woke up, you were already gone." She stood there, fidgeting wildly. I looked at her for a second. Her skin was pale but very smooth. In fact, her features were quite pleasant behind those glasses. 

I stood there for a minute not saying anything. I just love that. Watching students squirm a little as the silence intensifies. The power; the control, it's very intoxicating. I stared at her for what seemed like forever. The more I looked, the prettier she got. She really was an attractive girl.

Finally, I said "Miss Sanders that really is not a good enough excuse. I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for you." I picked up my papers and made my way toward the exit. She stood there for the briefest of moments but quickly followed me out.

"Please Dr. Brown. I'll do anything to make it up. I really need a good grade in this class." Her breadth was nervous and quick as she moved along side of me.

"Then you should have been here for the exam Miss Sanders. Why is this class so important to you?" Really, who cares? I was just enjoying the power I felt over this attractive young girl. Another of the perks of this job, power. So, I kept up with the façade.

"It's my major. I know I can do good on the test. All I'm asking for is a chance." She stood there anxiously, her mouth parted slightly taking in short breadths. Her lips looked incredibly sensual in her heightened state. There was an aura around her as she pleaded her case and I found myself becoming aroused.

I was drawn to this young girl. Softening my stance slightly, I still pretended annoyance. I exhaled sharply in mock exasperation. "You're asking a lot. You're making a lot of work for me."

"Please Dr. Brown. I'll do anything," she begged. Now, I know she didn't mean 'anything' but my mind raced ahead as I tried to picture what this young girl looked like under those baggy clothes.

Composing myself, I said "Ok Miss Sanders. Here's what I'll do. The exam will have to be in my office, on your time. Also, I want you to prepare a paper on Catherine the Great. If your paper is acceptable, you can take the test." 

"Not the same test mind you," I continued, "but a different one a little bit more difficult. I'll need your paper on Monday, in my office, right after class. If I like it, you can take the exam over next week. Fair enough?" In all honesty, it was getting difficult to stand there with this young woman. My cock had become rock hard as my mind flashed fantasy after fantasy with this girl.

She smiled broadly and shrieked, "Thank you! Thank you Dr. Brown. You won't be sorry." She quickly made her way down the hallway and out of the building as my cock throbbed in my pants. 

In minutes, I had made my way painfully towards my office. Once inside, I closed and locked the door to the tiny temporary office. Reaching for a tissue, I unzipped my pants and stroked my erection. I blew my load imagining Dawn Sanders, her jeans down around her ankles, bent over my desk with me fucking her wildly from behind.

I know, I know, Professors are supposed to be above that. But like I said, I'm a man as well. A lonely man who needed to get laid. Or at least jerk off every now and then. It was all harmless fun.

That weekend went by painstakingly slow. I found myself thinking about Dawn and I have to admit, I jerked off again and again as I imagined her doing the dirtiest things to me. A couple of times. 

But I also thought about the paper she was putting together. In all reality, I could care less about Catherine the Great. I chose this subject for one simple reason; Catherine the Great was renowned for her affairs and the trading of her position of power for sexual favors. A bit insatiable the old girl was. I wanted to see how Dawn would handle that topic.

Monday morning lecture came and Dawn made her way down towards me at the end of class. She handed me her paper and I told her to come see me during my office hours tomorrow afternoon. 

Her skin was aglow as I watched her bounce up the stairs and out the door at the top of the lecture hall. Her backside looked round and firm in those droopy sweatpants as I watched her leave.

I made my way back to my office, Dawn's paper in hand, with my cock beginning to swell. Something about that girl was driving me crazy. Like I said, she was rather plain looking but I found her incredibly attractive. She had something, something beneath that plain exterior. 

She reminded me a lot of Sarah. Seeing her smile as she handed me that paper, watching her as she moved; there was something about Dawn Sanders that I was finding intoxicating. 

It wasn't her intellect. I closed my office door and sat back behind my desk to read her paper. Mediocre at best, and not one mention of Catherine's sexual conquests. I'm not sure what I was expecting but Dawn had completely glossed over that aspect of her life. Very disappointing.

Tuesday afternoon came and I attended my office hours. A few students usually stopped by but that's typically right before exam time. Today, nobody showed up. I sat at my desk playing solitaire and surfing the internet on my computer to pass the time.

Just as I was getting ready to call it a day, Dawn showed up. She knocked on the door and I told her to come in. She was wearing another baggy sweatshirt and loose jeans. Her book bag was slung over her shoulder and she carried her winter coat. 

"Did you have a chance to go over my paper Dr. Brown?" she asked as she stood in the doorway. Her cheeks were flushed with a little color having just been outside in the cold air. Her eyes were hidden behind those glasses but her smile was big and warm. 

"Yes I have Miss Sanders," I said in my most professional tone. My eyes moved over her body as unnoticeably as I could, and my mind tried picturing what she looked like beneath those unflattering clothes. 

"Please come in and close the door," I said as I motioned toward the chair in front of my desk. She sat down, put her bag on the floor and leaned forward towards me. She really was a pretty girl behind those glasses. I felt my cock becoming aroused.

Searching my desk, I found her paper and handed it back to her. "Not your best work," I said to her. That smile of hers vanished in the blink of an eye.

"Wh-what do you mean?" she asked, disappointed and clearly confused.

"Well," I began, "this is the same old stuff about Catherine. I was hoping for something more from you Miss Sanders."

She fidgeted in her chair, finally saying "What were you looking for Dr. Brown? And please call me Dawn."

I leaned back in my chair and said, "Well Dawn, most students disregard certain aspects of her life. However, these are the very forces that drove her. She wasn't called Catherine the Average."

Dawn looked up at me and said "You mean the sex thing, don't you Dr. Brown?"

Feigning exasperation, I replied "Yes Dawn. The 'sex thing' as you called it."

Dawn fidgeted for a moment in her chair in silence. I watched her as she squirmed. My God she was incredible. It was like someone had flicked on a switch and I noticed her budding sensuality. Dawn was fidgeting but not because she was embarrassed. I sat there wondering what was going on with her, all the while my cock stiffening in my pants.

Finally, she said "Catherine's lust must have been all consuming."

Raising my eye, I said "Go on."

Dawn continued, "I mean, back in that time, women were not supposed to derive pleasure from sex. It was all about procreating. But not for Catherine. Her lust was so strong that she was willing to openly trade her powers for sex." 

"She didn't care what other's thought of her," Dawn continued. "She had a hunger that needed to be fed and she didn't care who knew it. In a time when women were subservient, she dominated, fueled by her need to fulfill her lust."

My cock throbbed as I listened to this pretty young girl I was finding myself attracted to talk of lust. "How do you feel about a woman acting like this?"

Dawn blushed a bit. "We all have sexual needs Dr. Brown."

"Yes Dawn, I know. But she traded sex for political favors. Doesn't that bother you?" I stared at her sensual lips as they formed her words.

"Why? Men have done the same thing for generations. How many times have girls like me been made to do things, sexual things, for men to further their careers? Or to feed their families? It's gone on for centuries, but here was Catherine, turning the tables, and doing it for herself."

My cock ached in my lap as I listened to her. All I knew was that I wanted this young girl. I did my best to keep up a professional demeanor but inside, I ached for her. I grew bolder. "So, it's ok if there is a need?"

Dawn looked at me and replied "I didn't say that Dr. Brown. Sex is something beautiful between two people and should be cherished."

Inside, I cringed. Blah blah blah! Dawn was not someone who slept around, not with an answer like that. There was a side of me that liked that though. I thought she was special and I'm glad she did too. 

She continued, "But lust is powerful. Lust can burn your soul. Throw in mutual attraction and you have all the elements of an explosion. Kind of like this."

I sat there as my lust filled brain finally registered her words. I coughed a bit and leaned forward in my chair towards my desk and said "What do you mean, kind of like this?"

Very calmly and collectively, Dawn said "I mean, lust, like you have for me Dr. Brown."

Her words shocked me back to reality. Had I really been that transparent? "I don't understand," was all I could mumble in reply. My life and my career suddenly flashed before my eyes. I took a deep breath and waited.

Dawn smiled softly and said, "It's ok. Really. Don't be worried." A sense of calm came over me again, and then Dawn continued, "Still, it is completely inappropriate. I've done nothing to bring this on. All I'd have to do is talk to the department head. Or my boyfriend. Though, it would turn out pretty ugly for you and for me."

Suddenly, this sweet young girl wasn't so innocent and naive. Somewhere along the way, I had lost control of the situation and I needed to get it back. 

Feigning anger I said tersely, "Look young lady. I haven't said or done one inappropriate thing toward you. I haven't touched you. I don't know what you're talking about." Regardless, my cock ached but my erection was beginning to wither away.

Dawn, disregarding my soliloquy, proceeded on. "It was your eyes that gave you away. That, and your constant hard on whenever I was around. But like I said, it's ok. I'm flattered. We'll just keep it between us." She smiled ever so slightly as she looked at me behind those glasses.

I said nothing as I stared at her. Dawn continued, "I asked myself, 'Why a paper on Catherine the Great?' It was obviously about the sex but I couldn't write that. Like I said earlier, 'mutual' attraction. But I did learn a great deal from her, about lust and power." 

Suddenly, the mood in the room shifted again. I finally understood what she had meant. "Do you really think you could trade sex for a grade Miss Sanders?"

"Yes. That bulge in your lap tells me I can. And call me Dawn."

My cock ached for her. I wanted this woman more than any woman I've ever known. Here she was, offering herself to me. I had to try and maintain control. 

I looked across my desk at her. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair fragrant and soft. The heat between us had been turned up by Dawn's words and I did the best I could to resist. 

I said nothing and in the silence of the room, the clamor in my mind began to deteriorate my will. My eyes moved over her body, covered completely by her baggy clothes. Her smile had been replaced with a look of lust that burned. I leaned back in my chair, my erection clearly visible against the fabric of my pants. 

Dawn smiled slightly, still sitting across from me. She leaned back in her chair, her legs parted and her left hand slipped between her jean covered thighs. Slowly, she stroked the inside of her leg and her hand traveled upward. She cupped her hand against her vagina and moaned. My cock throbbed for her.

Dawn rubbed herself for a moment and my hand slipped involuntarily into my lap. I rubbed my hand along the length of my cock through my pants. Dawn watched me and her lips parted slightly. 

She slowly stood up and moved around my desk to where I was seated. I swiveled the chair to face her as she stood before me. I said nothing but only watched as Dawn's eye's moved from mine to my aching crotch. I watched as Dawn lowered herself and knelt between my outstretched legs.

My God, she looked so sexy behind those glasses. She looked up at me from between my legs, her eyes aglow and slowly began to trace the outline of my erection with her fingertip. My heart pounded as I felt her finger. My mouth was suddenly dry and I was barely able to mutter "Take out my cock."

Dawn smiled slightly again and turned her attention lower. She began to unbuckle my trousers, pulling on the belt and opening the top button of my pants. Slowly, Dawn found the zipper tab and slid it down. From between my legs, she grabbed the waist band on either side of my hips and gently tugged down. 

I lifted myself up slightly from the chair and my clothing slid easily. My throbbing cock sprung from inside and slowly bobbed and swayed at attention. Dawn's eyes opened wide, never leaving my cock as she continued pulling down my pants to mid thigh.

She leaned forward again and let go of the material. Slowly, Dawn wrapped her small, thin hand around my hot, hard shaft. Dawn's eyes were riveted to my cock as she began working her hand up and down my length. I closed my eyes drinking in the warm sensations her hand was giving me.