2 comments/ 47315 views/ 2 favorites 1996 More Fucking Around in Bosnia By: gggsss1962 1996: More fucking around in Bosnia I wasn't the only one to feel short of sex. Karin wasn't overall joyful about my sexcapades with Claire, but as I said, she was very understanding. So had I to be too... My wonderful wife wasn't only sheepishly aware of my needings, she was also well conscious of her own ones. It happened in early February. I had been fucking Claire's ass just a couple of times, nothing you could call a relationship at all, when Karin told me about this guy. You know, it was the typical old Karin type: unemployed, ponytailed, skinny, politically an extremist and intellectually a sponge. The type that ends up placing bombs in front of newspapers or sharing dope under a bridge. "But he is so much a nice guy," she insisted, "He red all the Russian classics, and likes my same music... Reminds me of the old times..." Right. Sometime I really wondered how Karin fell in love with me, considering the types she was normally felt attracted to. I felt almost insulted... "But my love: I don't want to replace you, or have a flirt... I just want to fuck him, and then dump him." OK. Fine. But please, do it with somebody who cares about washing and carries no illnesses... That was the proof she was keeping her word, and the very spirit of our agreement: she discarded the ponytailed terrorist-to-be, as I asked her. Two days later, she told me she had a date with a policeman. What could I say: he was clean, honest, almost a colleague; and not a real danger at all, considering he was 25 years old, and Karin was soon going to be 37. Young, enthusiast, reliable, and a little bit immature. "He's so cute!" Karin said on the phone, "He was embarrassed to hear I was married to a soldier overseas, and thought it was not fair to date with me... I had to explain our agreement, and still was unconvinced." "So how did you talk him into dating this evening?" I asked. Giggle: "Well, I didn't exactly talk him into it... I did as you told me: I showed a little more of my legs and cooed a bit." "You haven't lost your touch, have you?" I was almost proud of my wife, for her capability to seduce such a younger stud. "You know I was an amateur even when I was a professional," she protested, clearly relived that I was not mad, "It's so easy with you guys!" I know it is. I was so proud to see how other men were looking at her when we were walking along the streets... Her wonderful legs, slender, nerved and always tanned were constantly catching the eye of virtually every male in the neighbourhood... Blond hair and blue eyes only helped, and her ballerina catwalk was adding class and seduction to an already crushing presence. I missed her so much! "So, you have an appointment this evening?" "Yep. He will pick me up at the metro... I don't want him to know where we live, nor my phone number." "He can get the handy..." I offered. "I gave it to him already. We will get to a restaurant I hope, and then to a club. If he doesn't prove to be a jerk, I plan to end up at his place... Is that okay with you?" Was it? I knew I could stop her if I wanted... And I did want it. But it wouldn't be fair, and I knew she needed sex as much as I did. "My love, enjoy yourself... He sounds like a good boy, and you deserve some fun too. Just promise to be careful." Giggle: "Don't worry, my love. I know the game, remember?" My heart soared. "I love you..." I whispered. "And I love you... I have the most loving and understanding husband in the world." Sarajevo was a mess. The Serbs had left en masse, and set fire to all what they could: they knew they would never come back to the suburbs we forced them to vacate... But on the other end, it had been them who invented the ethnic cleansing four years before, right? Mostar was slowly improving instead: even the most extremists had understood that in the end Bosniaks and Croats had to live together if they wanted to stand against the Serbs. Freedom of Movement was still a dream, but at least there were no checkpoints anymore in the Neretva city. Maybe because the Spanish Army forcefully removed them. I was just back from another patrol along the Neretva valley, when I found Karin's letter, with the full, detailed account of her night out with Giancarlo. *** My love, here I am. Here is my little dirty and kinky story, as I promised. We agreed to total openness and transparency, so I will not hide anything to you... I only hope not to wound you in any way, because you don't deserve it. You are the most understanding and fair husband a woman can hope to find, and I love you so dearly. It was such a nice and cosy evening... Nothing nearly so intense in feelings or physically exciting like the ones we have together, but we are so far away from each other at the moment! This had to be just fun, not love. And fun it was all right! It was so long since I tried last to seduce a stranger... Do you remember? It was in Amsterdam, and I was even late to out first date... Okay. I tried to put into practice all what I learned about you guys in the last years, and also what you always tell me about it. So, I dressed up, exaggerating with my makeup, wore high heels, thigh-high black stockings, my black leather miniskirt, a white blouse with scarf to protect my neck (damn it's cold here...), and the short fur coat. I know you would like it... I also wore plenty of bijoux, but left real jewellery at home, you never know. All in all, I believe I looked like a high-class whore. I know what you are thinking... That's what I used to be. But I didn't look like one, did I? My problem was another one: I was cold. The fur arrived just at the level of the skirt hem, so my legs were naked, but for the stockings. Why on heart a girl needs always to be cold in order to get a good screw? Anyway. I arrived at the bar next to the Metro station with ten minutes delay, just enough to make him wait a bit but not so much later to upset him. He was there, in a nice jacket and tie, he was so cute! Why aren't you more often in jacket and tie? Gosh he was young. I felt like a paedophile! I hope I wasn't ridiculous next to him. He was ever so happy to see me, gave me lots of compliments on my look, and he specifically admired my legs... So: yes, being cold did pay off. He had a nice Alfa Romeo parked nearby, and drove me to the centre, in an area I had not been before. When he stopped the engine, I took the lead: I grabbed him by his nice tie and pulled him to me; I stamped a kiss on his lips, making him feel my tongue, and then I let go of him before he could take advantage of it. I smiled and left the car, just offering him a good flash of my thighs, including the garter of the stockings and the black triangle of my knickers. Now he knew he was not in control, and I felt more confident. We walked down one of those pedestrian streets where there are bars and restaurants of all possible types, and we ended up at one of the most expansive. Wow, the boy was really going to treat me! We sat at a small corner table, and I placed myself across the table corner, so my knee was in contact with his, and the crowd in the room was behind us. I asked for fish and an expansive white wine, which he quickly agreed without hesitation, and soon we were chatting away. Apart from music, we had very few interests in common, so I just asked him about himself and let him speak... It always works with men of any age: they believe their life is an exciting story. If he only knew mine... Nothing especially interesting about him: average background, average culture, average income, interesting job, and no attachments (or so he claims, but I don't care anyway). He is tall and thin, but muscled enough. Quite rough in the face, thick black hair, strong lines and deep black eyes, very expressive. Raul Bova type, only rougher and taller. An attractive young guy for your hungry, slutty wife. I enjoyed the meal, appreciated the company, but I wanted to get laid. Only, the young stud didn't dare to take the initiative. Something was blocking him, I can't say weather it was our age difference, the fact I was married, or what. His stories were quite okay, but I started laughing at them more and more, making him believe I was getting a bit tipsy... I imagine I could easily outdrink him if I wanted, but I wanted him in good shape for later. Curious enough, he asked me about you, and weather I was embarrassed to be out with him. I laughed again, this time heartily, and told him you knew perfectly I was there with him. He looked puzzled, so I just told him straight away that we agreed to have some freedom as long as we were so far apart, thus implying I was ready and available. This seemed to give him courage, and he suddenly decided it was time to pay and change atmosphere. We ended up in a kind of house music pub... Something you would hate! I loved it. Music was so good that for a while I considered to dump him and just stay there and enjoy the atmosphere. Then I thought better, and just started provoking him. We sat at the counter, on the high chairs, and I offered him some VERY good show of my legs, up to the garter and further. The problem was, he wasn't the only one to enjoy the sight, and other males started staring at me and offering drinks and even a dance. This pissed him soon, and finally dared to drive me to the centre to dance. Again I provoked him with my movements and jumps: I wasn't in the Dutch National Ballet for nothing... I rubbed myself against him, and then jumped away, just showing him my butt and legs, and then I was again on him, over and over again... He could not resist for long, his hardon was evident, and other men started being really on to me. You guys down here can be so much on top of a poor girl who just loves music! At a certain moment, when a very good sound was just over, he just grabbed me strong and kissed me full on the mouth. At last! I pushed my whole body on him and kissed back, offering him my tongue to suck and my butt to fondle, while I caressed his hair and scratched his neck. He was ripe, and I was ready to leave to his place. It didn't take long. It was two at night, and traffic wasn't so bad anymore. His bachelor flat was a real mess, just like yours when I met you... Only less rich in books and pictures on the walls, and with a lot of CDs next to his stereo. He took just a minute to select one and get his giant stereo to play. A moment later we were dancing and kissing again, only this time we were alone, and his big hands were much more daring... He started again fondling my butt through my nice leather miniskirt (is that really SO good? You guys are all so mad for it!) while suckling my tongue, then he squeezed my poor small titties and started unbuttoning my blouse. In two seconds, he had my bare chest available, and started thwacking my erected nipples. Hmmm... I like when guys play with my nipples! I showed how much I liked it, by biting him on his neck. He didn't mind some rough play, and while still playing with one tit with one hand, he went down with the other, and started lifting my skirt hem. Easy job, it's so short! I was excited, but fully in control. I enjoyed his hand on my crotch, pressing on my clit through the thin tissue of my knickers, and went back on his mouth to kiss him full mouth. He started slowly masturbating me in that standing position, but he was clearly uncomfortable like that: I suppose I was the tallest girl he ever got, and that wasn't making things easy for my young lover... Finally he got guts to remove my knickers, first slipping them aside, and so getting able to feel my soft bush, and then pulling them roughly down. I immediately felt his fingers opening my labia and slipping in. I shivered. It was so long since the last time you did me! He felt my pleasure and took a taste in fingering me. But I still had the knickers around my knees, and that was not comfortable. So I just pushed him back, forcing him to sit down on his own bed. I made a wicked smile pulling out my panties, and fell on my knees, right between his legs: it was time to get serious. I quickly opened his fly and got his cock free. I know what you want to know now. You boys always want to know the size, and believe that's important to us too... It's not all so important, but ok, I'll tell you: I took note just to be able to report to you. He was just above standard; smoother and slightly longer than you, and a bit thinner. Very much bended up, like a proper banana. The kind of cock a slutty girl could consider getting in her ass, if you know what I mean! For me, what was important was that he was clean, hard and got a nice male smell; in this respect, he was not so different from you. Now, what I hoped to find similar to you, and that is really important for a girl, was his resistance. But that was something to test, and not to see... I stroked it a few seconds to harden it up, looking him straight into his amazed eyes, and then I gobbled him into my mouth. You know it: blowjobs are not my speciality. I am not so sensitive in my mouth, and I prefer ten times to get eaten up rather than to give head myself, but guys love it, and sometimes (like now!) they do need it to step forward... So I did my best. I must have improved, because he soon started moaning his appreciation and caressing my hair while trying to force me into his favourite rhythm... I don't like to be pushed, but I let him get his way, since his cock was getting nicely stiff and ready. Giancarlo really tried to fuck me between my ears, pulling my hair to force his cockhead into my throat, but I suppose I was a little too expert for him, so I just moved his mushroom out of my lips and started lapping the shaft instead, until he gave up trying to manoeuvre me, and only then I got him in the mouth again. Hmmm... He tasted nice, my young stud! I could have considered eating him off straight away, but my pussy had its requirements, so I let go of him and stood, to get rid of my now useless garments. Music was still on, so I improvised a strip-tease at the rhythm of that nice house sound... I admit it's not the best combination (it's a bit TOO wild!), but it worked nicely: in a heartbeat, I stood naked on my heels: my hairy golden pussy was a centimetre from his nose, and his cock was as stiff as I left him before stripping. The sight and perfume of my body drove him mad, and in a split second he was naked too, ready for use. I jumped on him, bottoming him down on his own bed, and started rubbing myself on his hard naked body, enjoying his erection against my flat belly. We kissed passionately a few minutes, rolling around on his bachelor bed (how many young girlies had he laid there, before getting laid himself by this Dutch Threat?), until I pinned him down and sat up, riding him. It was the moment: I rose on my knees, grabbed his scimitar (that was what it looked like), rubbed the head amongst my rebel hair until I found my slit, and then I just sat on him, swallowing him into my cunt. "Oohhh..." I panted, "Yes, deep... Deep... Hmmm, it's soooo good!" He grabbed my swaying breasts and squeezed them again, rubbing my nipples as I started riding him hard, trying to feel him with all the walls of my pussy. I was fucking him, not vice versa: I was in full control, choosing speed, rhythm and style of our fuck. He tried to get some control: left of my breasts and grabbed my hips, trying to force his tempo, but my ballerina legs and sides were far stronger than his hands, and I went away on my own favourite rhythm... I didn't care to please him: I wanted my orgasm, it was long overdue. It didn't take long; I must have been really hungry. I grabbed my own tits and started playing with my nipples, while he caressed and fondled my buttocks, and his cock was moving nicely and hard inside my belly. I felt it quite deep into myself, caressing and teasing all those regions that hadn't been touched since far too long. I started panting faster and faster, feeling it coming... And suddenly, there it was! "Oohhh, shit!" I screamed, "Yes! Yesssssss.... Ah! Aaaahhhhh..." My pussy contracted so nicely on him, squeezing his cock as if to milk him... But he was so nice not to cum yet. I was all sweating after my long due climax. I bended over to him and French-kissed him deep, to thank him for the pleasure he just gave me. I felt his hands on my buttocks, while I rubbed my tits on his hairy chest, kissing him dry. His cock was still pumping into me, and he was finally in charge, fucking my satisfied but still very willing body. We went on a few more minutes, kissing and fucking with me up and him screwing me upwards, until I felt him tremble and swelling inside me. I jumped off him, grabbing his cock in my long fingers, and started jerking him mercilessly, just like the porn stars of your favourite dirty movies... And like in those movies, he suddenly shot his load up onto my face, splashing his sticky cum on my chin, cheeks and hair. "Oohhh..." he panted heavily, "Oh, yes... Yesssssss!" I didn't swallow him: that's one of the things I'm not going to do whit other men, like letting them cum inside me or doing anal. These are our perversions... We laid there naked for a while, cuddling and resting, and then I watched the time. Four in the morning. "Honey," I said, "I've got to go." "Uh?" he looked dizzy and puzzled: "Why don't you stay to the morning? We can have a late breakfast, and then..." "I'd love it, darling, but I have my dog at home waiting for me..." He was pretty pissed about that, I had to make an effort not to laugh. But of course, Ysa was far more important to me than him. Especially once I had gotten what I wanted! Giancarlo took me home all right, and just before leaving him I lifted back his mood, French-kissing him again. "Hmmm... That was so nice, darling. I really enjoyed the evening and the night. We may do it again if you like." He looked surprised: the poor boy thought I was dumping him: "Are you serious? Can I call you back?" "Sure," I said: "My husband will not be back for a while, and until then, I will be free and available for fun... But for that only. It must be very clear, Giancarlo: this is going to be just sex, and nothing more. If you are looking for something serious, look somewhere else." "Shit. I wouldn't mind having something serious with you," he sighed, "But if I can get more of what we did this night, I won't lose it!" "Good boy!" I said, "Behave, and we will have some more fun the coming weeks!" I kissed him goodbye and left the car, giving him a last glimpse of my thighs before disappearing in the night. I was home in a matter of minutes, and Ysa was all so happy to see me. We took a quick walk together, and then we went back to sleep. So, my love, this was my wild night out. What do you think about it? I actually plan to do it again... Not too often, but often enough not to get crazy for the lack of sex. But if you say stop, I will. I love you. More than ever. Karin. *** Mostar was getting quieter. They stopped shooting to each other, and started playing hard at the media game. This was somehow more civilised. I started liaising also with the EU Police that was trying to administer justice in the divided city and to reunite the two distinct ethnic Police services that had developed on the two banks of the Neretva River. The head of the EU Police was Dutch, with a German Chief of Staff and a Carabinieri as Chief Operations. There were also Spanish Guardia Civil, Austrian and French Gendarmerie and English Bobbies. Quite a Babel Tower. 1996 More Fucking Around in Bosnia The centre of social life in Mostar was the Ero Hotel: a strange, modern building built by EU in the very centre of the devastated area at the very centre of the city: it was built as a hotel with a restaurant, because the idea was to sell it when it was not needed anymore as the HQ of the EU Administration. Until then, it was to be the core of the International Community within the city. It was there that I met Anja. Anja was a Marinechaussee Sergeant, part of the EU Police establishment. She was gorgeous. I was not capable to say much in Dutch, but it didn't need more than a "Hallo", and "How do you do" to start, since it was far more than anybody else could muster. I offered her a coffee, and we just happened to see each other for a few days in a row there, so we became kind of acquaintances. I spoke to Karin about her. Strange enough, she didn't like her. Who knows why, my wife was ready to let me screw Claire as much as I wanted, but didn't have me even to take a dinner with Anja. Maybe because she was Dutch? Or because I mentioned she was quite pretty? I never came to understand it, and I suppose it wasn't so important... Anyway, an agreement is an agreement, and I stuck to my word. I never fucked Anja, nor I ever had dinner with her. Hell, I don't ever know weather I could ever manage to get on her! I kept on fucking Claire every now and then, and Karin saw Giancarlo average once a month, just enough to satisfy our overriding hormones. We never missed informing each other about our sexcapades, and we never felt bad about it. I came to terms with the idea that my wife was fucking someone else in my absence (it was far better than thinking that someone else was fucking my wife in my absence: knowing she was in full control helped a lot), as long as I was aware of that: no deceit, no cheating. We both had tested our veto power, saw it worked, and we felt pretty safe about our partner's feelings. I was the first to loose my wartime partner. Claire was being repatriated. It wasn't a nice thing, and I don't mean about myself. Somebody had written her husband that she had being cheating on him quite regularly (even if apparently nobody knew the screwer was me), and he had been mad. There had been a number of calls between New Caledonia and Paris, not to mention New Caledonia and Former Yugoslavia, and as a result they were both heeding back to France to avoid a scandal that, apparently, French press would have loved (our one would not give a damn about something like that). Claire was quite ashamed of the whole story, also because somebody at their HQ leaked it out, and half the base was talking about it. Plus, because of them both coming back from overseas, they were going to loose a lot of money. "My commander is furious with me, not because of my indiscretion, but because I am leaving," she told me when we met at the canteen: "It will not be easy to replace me quickly. If I knew who was the bastard who wrote my husband in first place..." "Claire, I'm sorry. I am really embarrassed, I didn't mean to damage you," I said, feeling uneasy about the whole story, "I really hate it. I only swear you I kept it absolutely private about the two of us." "I know. Why should you bust us up? No, this was somebody who couldn't take a no for an answer, I know it..." Hmmm... I really had no idea who could have been the asshole. But I took a mental note to enquire about it. "I'll leave tomorrow. And if I know my loving husband, I'll be divorced within six months. Not so bad anyway, not now that I know what a lousy lover he is..." Claire smiled a sad, wicked smile. I smiled too, within myself: the cuckold wasn't going to appreciate the new fire within his wife's sexual drive, not for sure... Nor the new, enlarged size of her sphincter! "So, we are going to get a last chance this night," Claire smiled again, this time with no sadness and lots of wickedness: "Are you going to come and see me after dinner?" Of course I was. That evening I was hanging around the containers, waiting for the right moment to sneak into Claire's, when I stumbled into Fabianne and the group of boys she was regularly screwing. They were sitting outside her container, smoking and chatting. I didn't care much about them, and walked through, as if I was going towards the public telephones area (Italian Telecom had set up civilian phones everywhere in the area, and calling from Former Yugoslavia was as expensive as calling from Bari). As I mentioned early, I can't claim my French is nearly as good as my English, but still it is far better than our cousins beloved. That's why they didn't stop bubbling when I came through, and that's how I got the meaning of their small talk. As you may guess, they were talking about Claire's affair. They weren't the only ones; that was the camp story. But from a few words, I understood they knew something more about it than most people around. For that reason, I turned around the container and stopped in a dark corner next to the toilet. I don't smoke, but a cigarette is always a good excuse to hang around, so I enlightened one and pretended to enjoy it as I listened. Fabianne was a bit tipsy and the others were trying to make her talk. She was basically throwing shit at Claire for her bossing attitude as the eldest female in the camp and for her having criticised her "open" attitude towards boys. "The bitch. At least, I'm not married nor engaged... Who cares who I am sleeping with, as long it is off-duty and with colleagues?" she was more or less saying. The boys, who were the ones she was sleeping with, agreed understandingly. "I mean! Who is she to tell me I behave like a whore? At least, I do it only with other French! She should mind her own papers and try to keep her mouth closed when she fucks somebody in her container..." "But, did you hear her talking to her lover?" one of the guys probed. Fabianne laughed: "Hear her? Ah! The slut was yelling as the bitch on heat she is... There wasn't much talking, I tell you. But that little, it was in English." "In English? You mean her lover isn't one of us?" "Ah! Would you speak in a foreign language while making love, if you didn't need to?" "But, are you sure?" "I am sure! I can't understand English, but I can recognize it. They were talking English." Fuck. The little whore overheard us... I did think Claire was being a bit too loud when she came. "Which nationality was him?" "Uh! Italian, Spanish, Portuguese... Who knows? Not French for sure." "How many times you heard that?" "Two or three... It was my duty to inform her husband, wasn't it?" "For sure. I would have informed the Commander too." "No. He would think I do it as revenge..." "You're right. Better to leave the small idiot alone, isn't it?" Laughing. "OK guys, there is nobody around, and I feel a bit lonely... What about giving me some company?" I heard enough. Claire was furious when I told her. She wanted to run out to carve Fabianne eyes out of her skull, but I managed to restrain her. Rather, I offered to help her to exact some revenge out of the little wench. About two hours later, we posted ourselves out of the container in which Fabianne was getting gangbanged. We actually had to wait quite a long time, but eventually the nurse came out and stumbled towards her own quarters. Claire came out of the shadow and quickly joined her. The young girl was still tipsy and by now also quite worn out. She didn't offer much resistance when Claire offered her excuses for having been tough at her in the past and offered her a drink in her container. It really sounded like, now that she was leaving, the Captain didn't want to have bad feelings behind. I followed them to Claire's lodgement keeping a low profile, and went to the open window to hear what was happening inside. Claire had the girl drink more... I recalled there was a good bottle of Cognac in her small fridge, and when I finally got in called by Claire, it was half empty. Claire's glass was still full, and so was Fabianne. The cheeky goose was feeling no pain and could hardly see me. The light was off, so there were no chances she could spot who I was. Claire locked the door and the window, and then helped me with her friend. Fabianne made no resistance when we started undressing her: just a few muffled protests and unconvinced moans came out of her mouth when we placed her on Claire's bed, stripped naked and ready to be feasted on like a turkey at Christmas. She wasn't a nice display: her partners hadn't been kind to her. She had bite marks all over the body, and dry cum was staining her hair and skin. More cum, still quite fresh, was oozing and trickling out from both her bruised and abused holes. Just what you would expect from a freshly gangbanged gal. We undressed too and reached our guest partner on the bed. Claire had been freshly fucked too, and it was quite funny for her to place her dripping and sticky cunt on Fabianne's face, forcing the girl to eat her first creampie. Her mouth muffled by Claire's lush bush, she couldn't scream when I went on her breasts and started biting her nipples... She jumped instead, and Claire enjoyed her revenge squeezing her thighs around the girl's head and forcing her to lick my sperm out of her sloppy pussy. Fabianne's cunt was shaven and freely leaking mixed fluids from half a dozen unknown guys, so I didn't feel like fucking her. Rather, I stood and offered my cock to Claire's eager mouth. I did cum twice less than an hour earlier, so my French lover had to display her best art to revitalize me, but by now she was at her best as far as fellatio capabilities are concerned, and I was quickly ready for her. "I don't want you to fuck the whore," Claire hissed to me, lying down on top of the other female; "Fuck me instead, hard and deep!" She was offering to be entered from behind, and I didn't miss my target. "Ouch!" Claire panted as my rod sank into her moist flesh: "Hmmm... Yes, fuck me. Fuck me hard... Harder... Harder... Oh, yeah!" I grabbed her hips and started fucking her doggie-style, while she resumed French-kissing Fabianne in her mouth. The two girls' naked bodies were clenched at each others, bouncing over the bed at my fucking tempo. I had unloaded shortly before, so I could go on for a while, and I did. I went on ramming into Claire until she let go of Fabianne's mouth to toss her head and pant: "Uuhhh... Yeah. Yeah! Fuck my butt, now. Fuck my... Aawww!!!" She didn't need to repeat it: I pulled out of her sloppy cunt and slammed myself into her sticky asshole, still leaking my previous cumload. Her sphincter hadn't closed yet, so my cock sank into the woman's bowels without any problem. Mashed under Claire's recoiling body, Fabianne gasped and groaned at the rhythm of the sodomization, until the elder woman closed back her mouth with another wet kiss. I started getting tired of this, and my poor dick was sore by now. I wasn't going to last much more, and Claire felt it. She stopped kissing her "friend" and looked back at me: "Aahhh... Cum now! Cum inside my ass... Fill me!" Again, she didn't need to say it again. I drove into her reaching bottom and released myself deep into Claire's rectum, stuffing it with the second cumload of the night. "Aahhh..." she whined, "Oh yesss... I feel it... Hmmm..." I felt like cumming inside her for ages, but it must have been raw seconds before I collapsed on her sweaty back. I popped out of Claire's abused asshole and rolled on the side, while she quickly rose on her feet and turned around. With a swift motion, she squatted over Fabianne's upturned face, opened up her ass checks and let go a gush of cum directly on her open mouth. The girl jumped but couldn't avoid the second spurt, which landed on her check and eye, less even the last, long trickle which stained her hair and neck. When Claire rose again on her feet, Fabianne's face was all smeared with sticky cum out of the other woman's ass. "Well, honey," Claire grinned, leaving the bed: "Now you can go!" Fabianne was found half an hour later by the guards, while she was stumbling amongst the male quarters. She was completely drunk, naked and all covered in dirty sperm. Her clothes were found under the container where she had been gangbanged earlier that night, and a quick test showed full compatibility between part of the cum smeared over her body and the sperm of the men living inside it. By the time Claire arrived in France, Fabianne and her friends were in deep shit. When Karin heard of my threesome – however quite an incomplete one – she felt it was fair enough to organize something like that for herself too. She told Giancarlo she wanted to do two men at once, and the poor guy was told to find a friend for her to fuck. According to the story I got from Karin, Giancarlo wasn't so eager to share her with another guy, but faced with the threat to be dumped on the spot he agreed to find another guy for her. As I expected, it ended up being a colleague of his. They treated her with a hectic night out that ended up as expected at Giancarlo's place, where my lovely wife dried their nuts up and left them spent and spoiled for good to any other girl. But I'll left the story to her, as she duly reported in her last letter. *** I admit it: I was in for something kinky that night. I knew I was in full control of Giancarlo, and through him of his friend Luigi. This last guy was smaller, more rounded and overall less attractive, but ended up having quite a better cock, which poor Giancarlo couldn't know. I managed to have them nicely buzzed up during the evening, while I just simulated my drunkenness after a few drinks like the other times with Giancarlo; we put on some soft music, drank some more bubbles, softened the lights in the living room, and when I was satisfied with the atmosphere, I decided to start the party with a striptease. I'm pretty good at that by now, you'll see soon! My men were as horny as rabbits in a matter of minutes, naked, standing and ready for use. First of all, I wanted them sitting next to each other on the sofa, in order to give them a stereo blowjob. I have seen in on the movies, and always wanted to try it out. It was great! The two cocks of theirs were so different from each other that the sensation of the fellatio was just redoubled. Hmmm... They were clean, young and healthy, and so ready for me! I deepthroated both of them in turns, enjoying both the smoothness and the curve of Giancarlo's rod and the roughness and stiffness of Luigi's, and went on until I felt the salty taste of Giancarlo's precum; that was a warning signal, so I stopped and changed game. Since Luigi was the guest, he got the honour of the first pussy. I climbed over him, straddling on the couch over him, and I impaled myself on his stiff pole. Hmmm... It was quite thicker than Giancarlo's, and actually also than yours. Longer, too... And almost as hard! I felt it at the mouth of my womb, and it felt great! I moaned my satisfaction and started riding him, making quite a noisy show about it. It must have been quite unnerving for Giancarlo, since after a few minutes he climbed over the couch and fed me with his cock to muffle my yells of pleasure. Hell, that was his home we were screwing in, so I thought it just decent to oblige, and started blowing him as I rode his friend. That lasted quite a while I must say, and none of them looked ready to cum, so I readily agreed when Giancarlo suggested to swap position. I laid on all fours on the couch like the bitch I am, and while I gave head to Luigi, Giancarlo took me doggy-style. Hmmm... There is nothing to do, being accustomed to a cock helps a lot. And I am pretty much accustomed to Giancarlo's by now. I gobbled Luigi's thicker bone and started blowing him hard, with mutual satisfaction. Again, the ride lasted quite long. Do you remember our threesome in the castle, back in Norchia? Well, this one was almost as good... And much more comfortable! At least, we were screwing in a living room instead on the dirt! Again, it was Giancarlo the first to reach the edge. Lover, I am so sorry, but I forgot to tell you I run short of condoms, and lately I have been screwing Giancarlo without protection. Anyway, I wasn't going to run any risk and as I felt his twitching dangerously I pulled him off and grabbed his shaft into my left hand while kept on blowing Luigi with the right one. Wow, a stereo blowjob! My two males started groaning like elephants as I alternated sucking their mushrooms, and finally Giancarlo exploded onto my chest. I had planned to have the two of them shooting at the same time, each over one of my nipples, but my lover failed me and spurted all across my chest while his friend was still valiantly resisting my hardcore kisses. Well, I will have to try again another time. The feeling was beautiful anyway: I felt Giancarlo's hot, sticky sperm leaking down my tits while I was deepthroating his better endowed friend. So naughty! Luigi let it go quite suddenly: I tasted his precum, and as I swallowed it he groaned deeply. I barely had the time to let go of his cock, and the first shot caught me on the neck. The ensuing burst of cum splashed all over my chest, washing away Giancarlo's poor jism and creaming my tits like never before. Quite some sperm started dripping on the carpet, but I didn't care: I was too busy sucking Luigi's cockhead of its remaining nectar, while jerking Giancarlo with my hand. I managed to swallow my new lover's last spurts, and then I kept blowing him hard. Soon I realized that, while Giancarlo was rapidly deflating in my left hand, Luigi was stiffening back in my gorge, promising some extra action. With a moan of satisfaction, I let go for good of Giancarlo and started blowing his friend for all I was worth with both hands and with all the remaining energy of my abused throat. I was on my knees in front of the hairy guy since a while by now, and my legs started hurting (I am not as young as my mates, I am afraid...), so I thought it time to change game once more. Anyway, Luigi was sporting a raging erection, and looked more than ready for some ruthless usage of his valiant tool... I laid back on the couch, spreading my legs open and pulling Luigi on top of me to get a decent fuck right in the face of my (by now quite frustrated) lover. The young policeman stabbed me with a grunt of animal satisfaction, making me yell, and started fucking me for all he was worth. I clenched him with my legs, planted my stiletto heels into the back of his muscled thighs, and pulled him to me, to French kiss him full-mouth. I felt his hairy chest splashing my cum-coated breasts, and the sticky sensation of the sperm smearing all over me sent me over the edge. I howled my orgasm, convulsing under his thrusts as he fucked me through my climax, and the poor sofa creaked dangerously under our combined assault. Cumming so outrageously in front of my lover and over his favourite couch under the ferocious ramming of his friend, was such a turn-on that I kept cumming and cumming for at least a full minute, screaming my throat out. Hmmm, I felt such a slut! I really enjoyed my threesome, my love... Giancarlo enjoyed it much less, I am afraid. I suppose it asks for a lot of complicity, trust and understanding from your lover, to share such an experience with mutual pleasure. Not all partners can be as good as you are, my love. But you're being back soon, right? Anyway, I could sense Giancarlo's discomfort while his friend was fucking me senseless on his own sofa, and I must admit I enjoyed the ramming even more knowing he was fuming watching at us and hearing my screams of pleasure. 1996 More Fucking Around in Bosnia Eventually, Luigi reached himself the point of no return, and I had to kick him out, as I had the feeling he wouldn't mind cumming inside me... The valiant guy groaned once more, pulled on his knees and jerked off between my wide-open thighs, until with a final roar of male satisfaction he emptied his last load over me, spreading long, warm and sticky ropes of cum all across my stomach. I laughed, coating my fingers with this additional cumload, smearing it all over my belly and mixing it with the previous, larger load which still coated by breasts... You will find my skin all fresh and soft, my love, with all the natural body cream I have been using these days. And it was all for free! Luigi laughed too, admiring the mess I was, while Giancarlo complained that his precious sofa was getting stained by all the cum I was leaking from my ravaged body... So that was the end of my wild night out. Giancarlo was pretty pissed but tried not to show it while driving me home together with his friend sitting on the rear seat. He was just unusually silent. Before leaving them at the underground station, I kissed him lovingly on the check, while I gave Luigi my tongue for a hot French kiss... I had decided already to dump Giancarlo for his better endowed friend, and I wanted to make it clear for both of them. The evening after, Giancarlo called me at home. He was all tensed, asking me out for the coming weekend, but I cut him short telling him I was busy already with Luigi. That has been the last time I have heard of poor Giancarlo. I am a bitch, am I not? I actually saw Luigi on Saturday evening, and we had some sex on the rear seat of his car, but it wasn't as exciting as I had hoped. Basically, he is quite a valiant lover, but isn't as handsome as Giancarlo, and has no style at all. His car was small and smelly and his choice of restaurant and club was quite poor. No fun; and no second chance. My love, I got enough of enjoying my freedom... I just want you back. My love, come back. Spring is breaking out: all the hills are flowering... And my bed is so cold! I'm waiting for you... Karin *** The first, major sweep in Pale took place in May. A full battalion of the 8th Bersaglieri Regiment surrounded and secured the town, as our Military Police, our Special Forces and some British SAS from the NATO HQ in Sarajevo swept the houses. The Serbs were pretty pissed with us, but neither Dr. Karadzic nor Gen. Mladic, the most wanted war criminals of the Balkans, was found. Quite a number of smaller fish were arrested though, and sent to The Hague for trial. I was as usual acting as a liaison at the operational HQ, and saw no real action. That was, anyway, my last important experience in Bosnia for the time being. The turnover had started at April already for the most exposed combat units; privileged guys like me, who slept in containers rather than in tents, had six-months turn; June was my time to go back home, and it was quite nice being aware that we were leaving a place in Europe that looked ten times better than the one we found in December the year before. My bags in a pile near the entrance door in a room used as a waiting room in Mostar Airport, I was waiting for the Hercules due to take me back home. It was a beautiful late spring day in the Balkans, and it was weeks since the last time I heard a shot in the air. I was going home to my beautiful wife, and couldn't be happier... Or so I thought. "Roberto!" I heard a well-known voice calling me. "Claire! What the hell..." There were a lot of people around. We shook hands with a knowing smile, and I saw she was in very good shape, slimmer and happier than I remembered her. We got a coffee at the small Italian canteen at the Divisional HQ, and there I got the story. Claire's hubbie had been fuming in Paris, waiting for his unfaithful wife and getting lots of shit by everybody for her indiscretion, when reports came in about Fabianne's case. The guy knew exactly who the nurse was, and as he got the report about her outrageous case, all his anger disappeared. Clearly, she had mounted the entire story about Claire to cover up her own habits. When my friend had arrived, his attitude had totally changed; Claire found the most apologetic and submitted of the husbands, all too keen to get forgiveness from his enraged wife. How could he believe in such outrageous stories about her? How could he doubt about her? It must have been because of the distance... He was so sorry! So ashamed... Could she ever forgive his stupid jealousy? Claire played the outraged wife and insinuated that his suspicions came from his own behaviour: he was the one living in Polynesia after all... The poor guy had flushed and clumsily denied any charge, turning into a carpet for her to clean her boots with. Claire's chain of Command shared her husband's point of view, and Fabianne ended up taking all the blame, while the two reconciliated spouses had been sent back to their overseas assignments. "So far, so good," Claire concluded her story with a wicked smile. "And so, is your husband back to the Pacific?" I asked with a much more innocent grin. "Oh, he is the most submitted and faithful of the husbands, I assure you," Claire smiled confidently. "The cuckold doesn't imagine I'll dump him as soon as we will be back to France both of us... He actually tried to bed me while in Paris, but we had separate rooms, and I just let him out in the cold. The upsetting thing is that now I'll have better to behave as long as I stay here... I grinned: "So it's good I'm heading home..." "It is. For both of us, I suppose. Give a hug to your wife from me, and tell her she's a damn lucky woman." I smiled: "No. I'm a damn lucky man." Claire laughed: "Whatever. I'm just happy I'm not your downstairs neighbour... The poor guy will not sleep much the next nights!" Our laughs went covered by the roar of the Norwegian Air Force C-130 from NATO HQ in Naples, landing on the short runway of Mostar Airbase. I was going home.