Sylvia Baker was the Head Nurse on the Orthopedics Ward at the base hospital at Fort Hood, Texas. She was twenty six, and she was a stunning beauty who turned heads wherever she went. Sylvia liked that, and she used it to her advantage.
But Fort Hood bored her.
It was in the middle of nowhere, and there just wasn't anything interesting to do. She didn't care for bowling or tennis; she was much more interested in indoor sports. Her favorite was sex.
But it wasn't enough for her to be content with what she could get off-duty. She thought that fucking was better than a coffee' break, and she saw no reason that her patients shouldn't benefit from a little physical diversion at the hospital here and there.
Unfortunately, she was discovered in flagrante delicto with an enlisted man in the linen storage room. That was something the hospital authorities couldn't countenance.
Sylvia Baker had to go.
To her surprise, she was reassigned to Europe. The very idea of it thrilled her. There would be French men, German men, Italian men, Spanish men, all right there for the taking. And there would still be American service men if she got tired of the others.
What she found after she arrived, however, was something very different from what she expected. This is her account, in her words, of what happened.
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THURSDAY
May Fifteenth Europe!
It's really hard for me to believe that I'm actually here.
It just goes to show that getting caught at something isn't as bad as you think it is. There are times when crime really does pay, arid I guess this is one of them.
It still amazes me that it worked out the way it did. I mean, I thought they were going to send to the worst place they could find in Korea or perhaps the outer reaches of Alaska. Generally, when they catch you doing something you shouldn't be doing, they find a way to punish you.
And getting caught with that enlisted man in the linen storage room was something that I was sure they were really going to get me for.
Not that it was such a crime in itself. It's just one of those things that "isn't done."
At least not by an officer.
And certainly not by the Head Nurse of the ward-Definitely not during duty hours.
Oh well, it happened, and I was positive that I was a goner. They have a number of really gruesome places they can ship you off to when you violate their primitive conception of morality, and I was positive that they'd find one of the most isolated, remote and boring places they had, but for whatever reason, it didn't work out that way.
Not that Fort Hood, Texas, was any great shakes.
It wasn't.
And that's probably why it happened in the first place. I mean, they assign you to the base hospital in a place like that knowing that you're twenty six and single, so what should they expect? A vow of chastity? Not from this girl.
The place simply had nothing going for it except all those men, so what else was I supposed to do? The weather is rotten, hot as hell in the summer and cold as a bitch in the winter, so you don't really feel like being outside a lot. And they only have two lousy television stations, so there isn't much else to do inside except read.
And fuck.
Well, I'm just not that much into reading. That is, of course, unless the material is on the racy side (all right, I admit it... I really prefer it to be downright obscene), and When I read things like that, it just makes me want to do it some more. There's just no end to it.
So I guess I WAS a trifle indiscreet, but that was really no reason for that dried up old bitch of a Chief Nurse to get all bent out of shape. I think half of it was that she couldn't get anything if she tried. And if she even tried to approach that gorgeous stud I was making it with, he'd probably just laugh in her face.
But it looks like everything worked out for the best.
Here I am in Frankfurt, West Germany, right in the center of things, and they've assigned me to Orthopedics again which is nice. You get a lot of broken bones and bad backs, but most of the time, the people aren't really sick. And most of them are functional when it comes to sex.
I know that sounds terrible, but it beats the hell out of a coffee break.
I feel like the whole of the Continent is at my fingertips, and I intend to make the most of the three years that I'll be spending here. I guess that's why I decided to start writing this; to keep of a record of my travels.
Pictures are one thing, but I want to be able to remember what things smelled like and sounded like as well as what they looked like. And this is the only way that I really think I'll be able to keep it all. There have been times when I've thought that I'd like to have a film or video tape of my life, and I think this will be the next best thing.
There's really so much to see and do that I really don't know where to begin. This is only my fifth day here, and so far I've seen a little of Frankfurt which just isn't that interesting, but it's very convenient for weekend trips and things like that..
All those fabulous places out there just waiting for me!
Paris.
Rome.
Amsterdam.
Munich.
London.
Copenhagen.
Hamburg.
Berlin.
The Riviera.
Vienna.
The Swiss Alps.
It's really all too much, and I want to stop dreaming about it and start doing some of it. And I have the feeling that I'm going to do it all in a way that it's never been done before.
Pounded to one fabulous orgasm after another in Paris.
Ravished in Rome.
Abused until I can't take anymore in Amsterdam.
Mauled in Munich.
Lashed with a non-stop tongue in London. Carnal copulation in Copenhagen. Humped in Hamburg. Bruised and battered in Berlin. Raped on the Riviera. Violated in Vienna.
Attacked in the Alps (By a Saint Bernard?).
It's really all too much to think about, and the images that are coming into my head are making me all warm and moist. I can feel my panties getting wet, and I'm getting that old feeling that if I don't get something right away, I'm going to go nuts. I get that feeling a lot.
Well, there's no man around to take care of me tonight, and I have to go to work in the morning, so there really isn't time to go out and look for one tonight. I'm sure that things go on right here in the nurses' quarters with some of the girls, but I really haven't had a chance to make any friends yet and get the story.
Once that happens, I'm sure that I won't have to keep resorting to my finger. Not that it's half bad.
It isn't, but there always seems to be something missing when I do that. The orgasms can be fabulous, but there's no communication involved, and that's an important part of it for me. Even if it's only a one-night stand, there's something about doing it with another human being that can't be duplicated when I'm alone. But then I have to face the facts: I am alone, and it's about the only alternative I have right now.
I think I'll get to it.
WEDNESDAY
May Twenty First
God, am I tired!
But I haven't had a chance to write anything since last Thursday, and if I'm going to do this, I at least should try to be disciplined about it. It's that old saying about not doing something unless you're going to do it right, I think.
I guess it's just a case of being frustrated by the way that the damn Army always does things. It's nothing but a continual repetition of hurry up and wait.
They notified me on Friday morning that my car had arrived from the states. Usually, it takes about a month once you get here, but I'd heard about that from other people, so I shipped the thing four weeks before I left. I was spending my thirty-day leave in New York anyway, and there was really no need for a car there. And I knew that I'd want it right away once I got here.
But they make you get a special U.S. Army Europe (USAREUR - everything is always done with initials in the Army - there's a word for that, but I can't remember what it is) drivers' license, and you have to take a test and all that. Well, I'd been putting off doing it because I hate that sort of thing, so Friday I had to find a copy of the book that you study before you take the test and then go do it that afternoon.
At the same time, I had to arrange reservations on the Duty Train for Sunday night so that I could pick the car up Monday morning. I wasn't looking forward to the trip since I knew that if the Army was in charge of the train it would run like everything else the Army does: slowly. There are two speeds in the military services: slow and stop.
But somehow I managed to get it all done before the end of the day.
That meant that I had to spend the weekend getting ready for the trip and all that. Not that an overnight ride on a train and one day in Bremerhaven is such a big deal, but I'm sort of the fussy type who likes to make sure that everything I'll need is packed in advance, and I like to be completely ready to go a day in advance.
Naturally, the Army makes you report to the train station two hours in advance so that you can spend time hanging around waiting for it to be time to board the thing.
Then you get to wait another hour before it leaves.
Typical.
Luckily there was only one other woman on the train that night, so we weren't too crowded in the compartment. Normally, four people share the space, and I think that would make it a little cramped. But with just the two of us, it was really quite pleasant.
Of course, it would have been better if I had a compartment all to myself.
With a trainload of men and space to myself, I know that I could have turned up something.
But that was far from the worst of it as far as I was concerned.
The damn train kept stopping all the time.
It didn't stop to take on passengers or anything like that because it's a private train for U.S. Military personnel, and it takes on passengers at Frankfurt and lets them off in Bremerhaven. It's as simple as that.
So you'd think that they'd just move right along.
But that isn't the Army way.
It seemed like every twenty minutes or so, we'd come to a lurching halt. Sometimes the train was at or near a station, but other times, we were in the middle of nowhere.
Well, that made it impossible for me to get any sleep.
By the time we got to Bremerhaven at eight on Monday, I was so tired that I thought I was going to die. About the only thing in the world that I wanted to see was a bed with nice, clean sheets on it. I think I would have said, "Fuck the car," and just gone to sleep if I'd seen one.
But I went through all the hassle of picking up the car and all that, and I was ready to start driving back to Frankfurt by noon. I was glad it was all finally over with.
But I just couldn't handle a long drive.
In the first place, I was nervous about driving on the Autobahn (the German equivalent of an Interstate Highway). They don't have any speed limits, and I'd heard horror stories about the terrible accidents that they have; ninety cars piling up at once and things like that.
In the second place, I was just too tired.
I called back to Frankfurt and explained the situation to the Chief Nurse, and she was quite sympathetic. She said it would be all right if I didn't come back until the next day.
I asked around about hotels, and someone said the Nordsee Hotel was about the best place in town, so I got directions and went there. It was a nice looking place, and they gave me a very pleasant room.
Usually I brush my teeth and my hair before I go to bed, but this time I didn't even bother to put on a night gown. As soon as my clothes were off, I was between the sheet and the fluffy quilt and out to the world. It was the only thing I cared about.
When I woke up, it was just starting to get dark, so I figured that it must be about five thirty or six. I couldn't believe it when I looked at my watch and it said nine o'clock.
But when I thought about it, I realized that I was still thinking in terms of the way it was in Texas. Although I'd never consciously thought about it, I remembered that it didn't get dark in Frankfurt until after seven, and
Bremerhaven was three hundred miles farther north. And the farther north you go, the later it stays light in the summer time.
Then I realized how hungry I was. I'd had a quick sandwich at the base cafeteria after I'd picked up the car, but that was all I'd eaten that day. I'm not real big on eating breakfast, although I know that I should.
So I took a quick shower and made my face and hair presentable and went downstairs to the restaurant. There weren't many people there, but the food was decent even if it was sort of run-of-the-mill German stuff. I had the Weinerschnitzel.
Anyway, after I was finished eating, I sat there with a cup of coffee and wondered what I was going to do. I knew that I should have left a message at the desk before I went to sleep to have them wake me at five or something, because now it was eleven, and I wasn't in the least tired.
And I didn't know what there could possibly be to do in a place like that. Bremerhaven isn't very large, so I didn't think that there would be very many diversions. Even during the day, there hadn't been much traffic, and the place had a sort of somnolent air to it.
But it didn't make any sense to just go back to my room and vegetate.
I guess I could have watched television, but it's all in German (naturally), and I'm only starting to learn a few words here and there. I should take some classes, I guess.
So I told myself that it wouldn't do any harm to take a look around and see if there was some sign of activity. Even in the smallest places, there's usually something that stays open late. Quite often it isn't very interesting, but just having a few drinks with the locals can be interesting at times.
The street in front of the hotel was deserted, so I started to walk. I thought about getting the car out of the hotel parking garage, but it seemed like it was too much trouble.
I walked past a couple of bars that were open, but I couldn't see in, so I just kept on walking.
I suppose that I should have asked someone at the hotel what might be going on, but that thought didn't occur to me until I was several blocks away from the place. And I couldn't very well ask anyone I passed on the street since I don't speak German.
I guess I could have asked them if they spoke English, but the whole thing was a little intimidating in a way. To my mind, it was up to me to find something to do, and I didn't think that I ought to be going up to strangers and asking them what it should be.
Then I saw a couple of sailors.
I remembered that Bremerhaven was a port city, and it should have dawned on me before that there would be sailors there. I couldn't tell what nationality they were, but that really didn't matter. Where there were sailors, there was bound to be something going on somewhere.
I followed them for a block or two, then they went into a bar that had a neon light above the entrance spelling out its name. It was in German, so I didn't know what it meant.
But I figured that a bar is a bar is a bar, so I followed them inside.
The place was so dark that it took my eyes a minute or two before I was able to see anything. Then I saw the two sailors sitting at the end of the small bar. There were some tables beyond the bar, but I didn't see anyone sitting there, so I sat at a stool near the center of the bar.
The bartender came over to me and said something in German, and even though I didn't understand a word of it, I could tell that he wasn't being very friendly. The tone was not one that someone who was asking you what you wanted to drink would use; it was hostile.
"Do you speak English?" I asked him nervously.
"Oh, you ist American?" he asked me. "Yes."
"This no bar for woman," he said.
I understood the words, but I really couldn't figure out what he meant.
"You mean I can't have a drink?" I asked him.
"You make zee osher girl...how you zay it... on zee edge."
Now I really didn't understand what he was talking about. It had occurred to me when I asked my question that I might have stumbled into a gay bar or something like that, but now he was talking about other women getting nervous because I was there. It didn't make any sense.
Then I saw a flurry of movement at the far end of the bar out of the corner of my eye, so I turned to look and see what it was. A sailor and a woman came around a corner, the woman kissed the sailor quickly, then turned to the tables in the rear of the place as he walked out.
Finally it hit me. And now that my eyes were better adjusted, I could see that there were several other girls sitting at the back tables. They were sitting alone.
I was in a whorehouse.
Now I understood why my presence wasn't appreciated. It didn't matter if I were another hooker or giving it away or not doing anything other than having a drink, my being there would distract the customers, and none of the women would like that.
I turned back to the bartender who was still leaning over the bar looking at me.
"Now you zee?" he said.
"Oh, yes," I told him in an embarrassed tone, "now I see... Is there... I mean is there some nice place where I could go to have a drink?"
"You go Scotch Club... very nice place."
"Could you tell me where it is?" He said something incomprehensible. "Could you write down the address?" I asked him.
"Ja, I write for you."
He turned his back to me and went to the other side and scribbled something on a piece of paper, then he turned back and handed it to me. I thanked him and left as fast as I could.
When I was outside, I looked at the piece of paper, and I still couldn't decipher it. The writing was meaningless to me, but there was a number after it, so I assumed it was the address of the place.
I remembered passing a taxi stand a block or so before going to the bar, so I retraced my steps and handed the slip of paper to the driver who was first in line. He mumbled something that sounded like he knew what it was and where it was, so I got into the back seat of the cab.
It only took about three minutes to get there, and it turned out that the place was only about three blocks from the hotel. If I had started out in the other direction, I probably would have walked right past it, although I'm not sure I would have gone inside.
It was another of those places that you can't tell anything about from the outside.
I was a little leery about going in by myself after what had just happened, but I managed to do it. The idea of being wide awake and alone in my room was sufficient motivation.
Once I was inside, I was very pleasantly surprised.
The place was nicely decorated, the lighting was subdued, but not too dark, and there was what looked to be a fairly young and lively crowd. Here and there were tables of three and four sailors, but there weren't any hookers or women who looked like they might be around.
I sat down at a small table and signaled the first waiter that I saw.
He looked at me skeptically as he approached.
It wasn't until I asked him if he spoke English that he smiled and asked in very good English what it was that I wanted to drink. I got the feeling that he thought I might be a hooker when he first saw me. And from the look of the place and the clientele, I thought this might be a place that discouraged that sort of patron.
I ordered a carafe of white wine and studied the patrons of the place while I waited for him to bring it.
They were mostly couples with the exception of the sailors, but as the idea of doing something came into my head, it occurred to me that if they were all in groups, it would be hard to pick one up.
Then I wondered if they would let me bring someone back to the hotel with me. I didn't know much about European hotels, but from the layout of the lobby at the Nordsee, I knew that they'd see me when I came back. It would be embarrassing to be told I couldn't do it.
And it would be very unlikely that a sailor would have a place to go.
It might be possible that they'd know of a cheap hotel or something like that, but I've never liked going to places like that. There's something about them that makes me nervous.
I took a long swallow of wine after the waiter poured it, then I went back to thinking about what I was going to do for the rest of the evening. It was already past midnight, and
I didn't really know how much time was left; there's really no set closing hour in most of those places. They just sort of close when there aren't enough customers to justify staying open.
At least that was the impression I'd gotten up to that point.
I figured that it would take me about six or seven hours to drive home on Tuesday, so I really didn't have to worry about going to bed early or anything like that. It's always nice not to have to worry about that sort of thing on a weekday for a change.
The longer I sat there, the more I liked the place. There was a casualness and air of informality about it that was pleasant, and after half the carafe of wine was gone, I no longer felt self-conscious about sitting there by myself. It would have been nice to have been with someone, but that just wasn't the way things were.
From time to time, I noticed a glance in my direction from one of the sailors and once in a while from a man who was sitting with another woman. I made it a point to smile when one of the sailors looked at me.
"Your friend... He eeze late tonight?" I heard a voice say to me.
I started because I hadn't seen anyone approach my table, but he was on the other side from the direction in which I was looking, so I turned to face him. He was leaning close to my ear.
I almost gasped at first as my eyes took him in.
He was wearing a military uniform, but it wasn't the tunic and slacks of a sailor. He was wearing a uniform that was dark blue in color, and it consisted of a coat and tie and slacks. He was holding a cap under his arm, and there were two gold bands around the cuffs of his jacket sleeve.
But it was his face that made the biggest impression on me. He was one of the most handsome men that I'd ever seen in my life. He had dark hair, a neatly trimmed moustache and beard and blue eyes that were so deep I had the feeling that I could fall into them.
"I'm sorry," I said, "I didn't hear what you said. I had, but I needed a chance to collect myself.
"I thought you were waiting perhaps for someone and 'e iss late," the man said. The accent was light, but French.
"Ah... No, I'm not waiting for anyone," I told him shakily.
"Zen may I join you for a glass of wine?"
"I'd be delighted."
My heart was thumping hard as he pulled the chair out, sat down and signalled the waiter .
"Oh, you don't have to order more... I still have plenty," I said.
"But I must... Besides, I feel quite certain that we will be able to finish it."
"I suppose that we will."
He ordered the wine, and after the waiter left, we sat there looking at each other for a moment.
"My name iss Jacques Ferrendier... I am wiz zee French Navy," he said to break the silence.
"And I'm Sylvia Baker... I'm with the United States Army in Frankfurt," I said.
A broad smile came over his face. "Zen we are comrades in arms, so to speak, no?"
I laughed. "I suppose that we are, even though I'm a nurse."
"If I am ever wounded, I would deeply like the help of such an attractive nurse."
The wine came and we chatted about where we were from, the places that we'd been, what our jobs were like, what our futures might be and things like that. The more we talked, the better I liked him. It was starting to get late, and I was anxious for him to get down to the serious issues. I wanted to bring it up myself, but I didn't think that I should.
I mean, it wouldn't be the first time that I've done something like that, but I was a little unsure of myself around a European, especially a French man. I was afraid he might be offended.
As more and more customers left without being replaced by new ones, I got more and more nervous. I could tell by the way things were going that they were about to close up the place. The waiters hadn't started stacking the chairs on the tables yet, but it was getting close.
"I weesh I could invite you for what you Americans call a nightcap, but, alas, I have only a very small room in zee 'otel and no liquor of any kind," he finally said.
"Which hotel?"
"Zee Nordsee."
I laughed. "I'm staying there too, and there's a little refrigerator in my room with all kinds of little bottles in it," I told him.
"Eeze zhat an invitation?"
"It certainly is."
"Zen zhere is no reason to be waiting here."
He stood up and walked around behind my chair and pulled it out as I stood up. I waited at the door while he settled the bill with the waiter, and we walked back to the hotel. We didn't say a lot on the way back, but he put my hand gently in his.
When we got to the room, I showed him. where the refrigerator was and told him to select whatever he liked for both of us. There were two chairs in the room, but they were rather far apart, so I sat on the edge of the bed while he poured the drinks.
I wanted him to know what 1 wanted, and I didn't want to waste a great deal of time.
He came back with the glasses and stood in front of me while he handed me mine. There was a questioning look in his eyes that told me that he wasn't sure he should sit down beside me.
"Go ahead... Sit down," I said.
"Should I get a chair?"
"No, just sit next to me on the bed."
I took a sip of the drink and winced. It was sharp and it burned as it went down. "What is it?" I asked.
"Brandy... Unfortunately of German origin, so it eeze a little sharp, no?"
"Yes."
I took another sip and it wasn't as bad as the first time. I guess my mouth knew what was coming and was prepared for it this time. It was different than any brandy I'd ever had before.
I set the glass on the small table beside the bed, and Jacques set his on the floor. Then he put his arm around my shoulder and I leaned my weight into him. For a French person, I thought, he was certainly taking his time about things. Most American's would have already had my clothes off.
I turned my head to him and he brought his hps to mine and held them there gently. It was nice how he didn't try to get all hot and passionate right away. It sent a bolt of electricity through me.
Jacques increased the pressure of his lips against mine, and I felt my pussy begin to get all warm and moist. I had the feeling that my panties were beginning to get moist. It had been so long since I'd had a man that I thought I could take him right then and there. I even consider asking him to do just that, but I didn't.
As we held our lips together, he put his arms around my shoulders and pulled our bodies firmly against each other. As my breasts pressed against his chest, I felt my nipples become hard. The pleasure that they radiated through me made more fluids seep into my cunt.
Then his hands were moving all over my back and up and down my sides. It was a light touch, one that turned my skin to goose flesh. Each movement that his fingers made sent a tingle through me.
He pulled his head back from mine and looked into my eyes. "You are very beautiful," he said.
"Thank you... And you're remarkably handsome," I told him.
A flush came to his face at the compliment, but he didn't say anything.
I wondered if it was considered odd or something for a woman to say something nice to a man in his country. I had the impression from what had happened so far that he thought it was his job to do all the seducing, and I even wondered if I should put up a little token resistance.
But at that point, and considering that I hadn't had any sex with another human being since I'd left New York, there was no chance of that happening. I couldn't resist and I didn't want to.
Jacques brought his hands to my shoulders and leaned my body away from his. With particular attention to each one of them, he unbuttoned my blouse. It was like he was unwrapping a precious jewel.
He slipped my blouse over my shoulders and it fell to the bed behind me. Then he unhooked my bra and pulled it away from my breasts. He let it fall to the floor and reached around me to push my blouse off the bed.
"Magnifique," Jacques whispered as he looked at my breasts.
He moved his hands to them, but only the very tips of his fingers touched my skin. Jacques held them motionless for a moment, then he began to make slow, easy circles with them around the base of each breast. The tingling in my chest got stronger with each movement.
As he continued, he brought his fingertips closer and closer to my nipples. I had to take a big lungful of air because the sensations were so wonderful that I'd been holding my breath without realizing it.
For what seemed like an eternity, his fingers circled my breasts just short of the aureole. I was aching for him to touch my nipples. My body demanded more stimuli, and I thought I'd die if he didn't get there quickly.
But he took his time.
When the first finger touched the aureole itself, a surge of pleasure raced through me. There was a twinge in my clit as it engorged, and I felt more and more fluids ooze into my cunt.
Then he brushed his fingers lightly over the hard tip of my nipple.
I let out a gasp at the pleasure that ripped through me. It was like the ends of my nipples were live electrical wires seething with pent up energy. That energy was released by the touch of his finger, and it was flowing throughout my body.
He flicked his fingers slowly back and forth over the very tips of my nipples. Each soft touch of his fingertips sent a new surge of excitement through me, and I could feel the heat in my cunt starting to flow throughout my pelvis. I had the sensation that I was drenched with juices.
Then he put his thumbs and forefingers to my nipples and squeezed them.
I moaned.
My body shook.
I couldn't believe how good it felt. It was almost as thrilling as having someone stroke my clit. I'd never known that such intense pleasure could be generated from my nipples alone.
Jacques rolled my nipples gently between his fingers and there was a steady stream of sensations cascading throughout my chest. He pulled my nipples away from my body so that my breasts were elongated and the stimulation was even more intense. It didn't seem possible that my nipples could produce such an astounding degree of pleasure, but they were.
The harder he squeezed them as he pulled on them, the better it felt.
He let go of them, and my breasts plopped back to my chest. I let out a long sigh.
It was then that I moved my hand to his crotch and pressed my palm into it. Through his pants, I could feel the hardness of his cock. It seemed to be a pretty good sized one from what I could tell.
"I want more of you," I said in a hoarse whisper.
"And I intend that you should 'ave it all," he said.
Jacques reached his hand to the belt that I was wearing and, unfastened it. Then he unfastened and unzipped my skirt. I rolled back on the bed and raised my hips so that he could slip it off. At the same time, I kicked off the low-heeled shoes that I was wearing.
He slipped my skirt off, then he put his fingers through the elastic waistband of my pantyhose and slipped them over my hips. He moved around in front of me and pulled them to my ankles and off me.
I was naked.
"You have a very lovely body," Jacques said softly.
His eyes were roaming all over me, and I had the feeling that he was devouring me with them. The cool air that was now able to reach my slit had no affect on me; the way he was looking at me made me hotter. I wanted him inside me as soon as possible; I needed it.
"I think you do too, but it's hard to tell with all those clothes on it," I said.
Without a word, he started taking off his clothes. But all the time he was doing it, his eyes stayed on me. I really had the feeling that he was a man who really appreciates women. A lot of men like to fuck women, but not many of them really appreciate them.
When he was naked, I could see that I'd been right about his body.
He was something else.
His muscles were firm and well defined, and a thick mat of hair covered his chest. His waist was relatively thin, and he had powerful looking legs. He was really a beautiful sight.
But it was what was between his legs that took my breath away.
His cock was about average in length, but it was one of the thickest that I've ever seen. It was nestled in a patch of dark curly pubic hair, and the thing was jutting straight out in front of him. I couldn't see all of the head because half of it was still covered by his veiny foreskin.
I stretched out in the middle of the bed, splayed my legs and raised my knees. I wanted to let him know that I was ready for him right then and there. I didn't want to wait any longer.
He got my message and knelt between my legs. But before' he moved in really close to me, he ran the tips of his fingers along the lips of my slit. I don't know how he manages it, but he's got a touch like no other man I've ever had. And I've had a few.
Then he parted the outer labia with just the tips of his fingers and went from the top to the bottom with them. I let out a moan and arched my hips into him.
Jacques moved his fingers back to the top of my slit and gently prodded his index finger under the hood of flesh that covers my clitoris. He swirled his finger slowly around, and with each circumnavigation, his finger grazed over my stiff little bud of nerve endings.
I gasped with the pleasure that he was creating in me.
Finally, he moved his finger down and inserted it briefly in my pussy. Jacques rotated it around the rim of my hole so that it stretched the membranes of the thing. I guess he was testing the waters, so to speak, to make sure that I was wet enough to take him.
I was wet enough, that's for sure.
He pulled out his finger, took a look at it as it glistened in the light with my fluids, then he put it beneath his nose and sniffed it. After that, he put it in his mouth and sucked on it.
Jacques moved in closer to me and raised my legs to his shoulders. His cock was resting on my mound, and it was all I could do to contain myself from begging for it.
But instead of saying anything, I reached down and put my fingers around the shaft of the thing. I held it just below the rim of the head, and I pulled the skin all the way off the head. It moved easily, so I pulled it forward, completely over the glans, then pushed it back. I ran my fingers over the flared head of his cock, and there was a small bead of moisture in the hole at the end; I spread that over the smooth surface of his glass and kept my fingers going until it had evaporated.
I sent my fingers to the base of his cock and wrapped them around it. He pulled back a little bit, and I moved the head of his cock to the center of my slit. The tip of it was parting my outer lips, poised at the entrance to my pussy. I arched my hips into it and part of the glans entered me.
Jacques leaned over me and put his hands on the beds at my shoulders. His hips were raised above me, and the head of his cock was still partially inside the rim of my cunt. He lowered himself a little, and the entire glans sank into me, so I took my hand away from the base of his cock.
Jacques lowered his hips slowly until his entire cock was inside me. Our pubic arches were pressed firmly together, and just the pressure of him against my mound made my clit give of a twinge of pleasure.
He pulled out partway and thrust back inside me.
I couldn't help but let out a moan at the pleasure that it created. His cock was so thick that it really moved my clit around when he moved it inside me. That's the advantage to the really thick ones; length doesn't make that much difference as far as I'm concerned, but the thicker they are, the better. Some of those thin ones just poke around inside me without doing much.
Jacques pulled out again, but this time only the head of his cock was still inside me. He made a forceful lunge and buried it to the base. The strong thrust pushed my hips into the mattress, and I let out a gasp at the pleasure it sent surging through me.
He started a rhythmic series of strokes in and out of me, and each one of them sent me higher. And the more pleasure I felt, the hotter and wetter my cunt got. There was a steady stream of sensation from my clit, and those were mixed with the more delicate stimuli that his cock was creating in my cunt, especially in the upper wall as the ridge of his glans went back and forth against it.
As I got wetter ..his cock moved more and more easily inside me. And gradually, he was able to go faster and faster. The faster he went, the more my clit moved against the moist, soft flesh that surrounded it. The thing was beginning to feel like it was a live electrical wire giving off a thousand volt charge every time he pounded into me.
As Jacques went faster in and out of me, he added more force to his thrusts. I had the urge to beg for them to be still faster and still harder, but I didn't want him to think that he was doing anything wrong. Quite the contrary; he was doing everything right, but I just wanted more of it.
The stimuli that he generated in me sent me to a high plateau of pleasure. Each heavy stroke he made sent me higher, and I was rapidly approaching the edge. A vast abyss was yawning before me, and I was conflicted as to whether or not I wanted to stay right where I was or be thrown headlong into the void. But I really had no choice in the matter.
Jacques' cock was making all the decisions in that matter.
Each time that he pounded into me, I went closer to the edge. It was getting to the point that my body was yearning for release, aching for it, hoping that it would come with the next thrust.
Jacques was panting now as he rammed into me. There was a contorted look on his face, and his nostrils were flared like those of some demented animal rutting in the primordial jungle. And by that time, I didn't care what happened or how I looked so long as it didn't stop.
I felt all the sensations that he'd given me begin to gather force within me. They were mounting in my nerve endings and getting ready to discharge in a random frenzy.
I was floating.
Drifting.
Sinking into the pleasure that filled my body completely.
The sensations that he was producing as he pummeled my pulsating pussy were exquisite. I was starting to become overwhelmed with them as I moved closer and closer to the edge of the abyss.
As he rammed his thick cock in and out of me at an even greater rate, the sensations changed from exquisite to sublime. I knew that the gathering storm was about to release its thunder and lightning on me.
Suddenly there was a blinding flash in my brain as the orgasm was upon me. My entire body went rigid, and there was a spasm in my cunt as it hit me. Then there were more spasms, and a shudder made its way from my pelvis through my torso. I cried out with the pleasure of it.
Jacques kept pounding into me, and as soon as the sensations from the first orgasm began to fade, another one was upon me. There were more spasms in my cunt now, and they were stronger than before. My body began to shake with the force of it, and about all I could do was whimper.
I thought that that would be the last of it, but he kept making one hard, fast stroke after the other into me, and the orgasms came in rapid succession. After a while, they crashed into each other, each one making the one that followed that much more intense.
My hips were bucking involuntarily against his lunging cock by that time, and I was totally lost to time and space. I was completely engulfed in the raging sea of my passions. There was no other reality for me, and the pleasure of it all was the only solid thing in my universe.
Jacques was gasping for breath by that time and he said something in French as he rammed into me, but I could only hear it from a great distance. The rushing of my blood in my ears was blotting out everything else.
Then all my orgasms merged and meshed into a blistering climax that made it impossible for me to even breathe. There were constant convulsions in my cunt now, and I was in a state of unparalleled ecstasy. It felt like every part of my body was in a state of fierce orgasm not just my pussy; it penetrated to the core of my existence.
Vaguely, I heard Jacques let out an incomprehensible shout, then he took a few more quick plunges into and buried his cock deep inside me. His hips jerked as his cock erupted with burst after burst of warm jism. The warmth of it, and the movement of his cock inside me with the contractions his hips made intensified my orgasm even further.
Gradually, the sensations subsided, and I came back to some semblance of reality.
He held his cock in me, and I could feel it begin to lose some of its rigidity, but finally he pulled the thing out and collapsed together in a heap. Both of us were breathing hard and sweating profusely, but neither of us cared about that; we just wanted to hold onto each other.
Whew!
I guess I got a little carried away there, and just writing about it has made me all horny again. I shouldn't be horny after all the times that we did it, but I think it's one of those cases of "the more you get, the more you want."
At any rate, we did manage to get a little sleep at some point in the night, but it wasn't a whole lot. And on Tuesday, I didn't feel like driving home right away because he had the day off and wanted to spend it with me. I know that I should have been more responsible and left for home at noon or something like that, but I wasn't.
I didn't hit the road until almost ten o'clock at night and didn't get home until after four in the morning. And I had to work at eight this morning. Needless to say, it was a bitch of a day.
But it's over now, and I do intend to get to bed early.
But I did want to get some of this down. For one thing, my nerves are still a little jangled from the trip back last night, and writing about Jacques has made me more relaxed than taking a Valium as well as make me want to do a little work with my finger later on.
Those horror stories that I've heard about the autobahn are all true. I guess it wasn't as bad for me since I was driving at night and there wasn't a lot of traffic, but it was still pretty bad. I'm not sure that I'm going to be doing a lot of driving here.
For one thing, there aren't any speed limits, and they all drive as fast as the car will go. And the way they tailgate you when you're passing a slow moving bus or truck and you're not going as fast as they want to is enough to frazzle anyone's nerves.
When I think about it, it's amazing that there's still a country here at all. You'd think that they would have all been killed in car accidents a long time ago. Fortunately, they have very good rail service here, so I can take the train when I go on long trips. As far as driving is concerned, I think that I'll stick to doing it in the city and on country roads; they can keep their autobahn as far as I'm concerned.
MONDAY
May Twenty Sixth
Actually, I had planned or hoped to go someplace over the weekend, but I was still too tired from that trip to Bremerhaven to do something like that. And it doesn't make a lot of sense to travel when you're going to be exhausted all the time and not enjoy anything.
And I figured that it might be nice to just sort of relax and see some more of Frankfurt. I found out that there is an old section of the city that wasn't obliterated during the war. It's called Saxenhausen, and it's across the Main River from the rest of the city.
In addition to that, I wanted to get to' know some of the people around here. It would be nice to have something to do on week nights, and up until last weekend, I hadn't met anyone except for a few people that I work with, and they weren't all that interesting.
From what I've experienced, military people, especially the officers, are kind of a dowdy lot. Most of them live boring lives, and half the time, they don't have a lot to say that's very interesting.
At least not to me.
Most of them would be shocked beyond reason if they knew the kinds of things that are usually on my mind. If they actually knew the things that I do, they'd drum me out of the service.
I don't think that I'm going to spend my entire life doing this, but for the time being, it's not a bad deal. The work isn't that hard, and the money is really pretty good. And then there's the fact that I'm getting to live in Europe for three years. So for the present, it suits me. And when I get tired of it, all I have to do is resign.
But I certainly wouldn't want to be kicked out.
That just wouldn't do.
So when I'm around other Army people, I just keep my mouth shut. There are plenty of times when I'm tempted to say something that I shouldn't, but I'm usually able to suppress it. And when I'm not, they usually take it as some sort of a joke or something.
And so far, I've been very discreet at work.
I know that that won't last forever, but I always like to know all the ropes of a hospital before I do anything that I shouldn't. I like to find at least one person that I can trust, and I like to know which ones are a little more liberal than the others.
Those weirdoes who do everything "by the book" turn me off, and I don't like to have anything to do with them. Those crazies actually take the Army seriously.
That's always a big mistake.
Anyway, so far things have been going pretty well at work.
The other nurses who work under me seem competent, and there haven't been too many telephone calls when I've been off duty. It's terrible when you work on a ward that has a couple of real losers on the staff. I swear, I don't know how some of those girls ever got through nurses' training.
Probably on their backs. Well, if I'm going to tell the truth about it (and I might as well here since no one will ever see this... I hope), I did a little of that myself, but I was still a good student. But there were those times when I really thought it was important to get an "A" rather than a "B", and if it took a little extracurricular activity to get it, then that's how I got it.
Fortunately, I got the male orthopedic ward rather than the female one.
I guess that means that word of my minor indiscretion at Fort Hood didn't precede me. I suppose it could mean that they're just trying to tempt me and get enough evidence to do something, but the people here don't seem that way. You can usually tell when you're in a situation like that.
Well, so far things seem pretty normal, and the patient load isn't that high. In fact, the few officer patients that we have mostly have rooms to themselves.
That's practically unheard of in a military hospital unless the person is a general or something. Most of the time even Colonels are put in the wards along with everyone else.
But then this place was built by the Nazis and taken over by the Allies at the end of the war. And about all they've done to the place is chisel out the swastikas that used to be in the middle of the ornamental wreaths over the entrances to hallways.
I really don't know why they even bothered to do that.
I mean, they should have taken the whole thing down if they didn't want that symbol there. What they've got now is a depression where the thing was chiseled out. It's simply an indented swastika instead of a raised one.
But they did it, and I guess "officially" the swastikas are gone.
It's like everything else in the military: there's a right way, a wrong way and the Army way.
Really, I can't be bothered with any of it. That's just the way they are, and there's nothing that I can do to change them. I tried talking to them about the way things were done when I first came in, but after a while I stopped wasting my breath; it never did any good.
But I do find it sort of amusing at times.
And if something is good for a laugh or a smile, then it at least has some value. You need, a bit of comic relief every once in a while around the Army. To go without it is risking death from boredom or total atrophy of the mind. But I rarely pass on the funny things that happen because the serious ones don't see the humor of it.
TUESDAY
June Third
I guess that I've been lax about writing this again I keep thinking about doing it, but I never actually get to it. Something always seems to come up, and I just don't sit down at the typewriter.
Now when that something that comes up is a man, I don't feel too guilty. I mean, there are priorities. The Army is always talking about things in terms of priorities, and half the things they want done are "Top Priority." Well, if they can have priorities, so can I.
And things have been picking up around here in that respect.
Last Thursday evening, I went to the Officers' Club at the I. G. Farben complex for dinner because they were having a special night with live lobsters flown in from Maine. And it only cost seven dollars, so I figured I couldn't go wrong.
Usually, I try not to eat at the Officer' Club too often because the food is usually terrible. Most of the menus are sort of bland, nondescript American food, and they usually cook it to death. But there isn't a lot that you can do to ruin a lobster unless you boil it for an hour, and I figured that even they weren't dumb enough to do that.
And I was right.
It was delicious, and they didn't even charge me extra when I ordered a second one. That was probably an oversight, but I wasn't about to bring it to anyone's attention.
I guess you could say that I really pigged out.
Well, so be it.
Anyway, I was feeling so nice after I finished dinner that I went to the bar downstairs for a couple of drinks. I was sort of in the mood to get half sloshed, but I had to work the next day, and you have to watch that sort of thing over here. I was driving, and the Germans really take drunk driving seriously.
I was a little surprised when I first learned about it because they have a reputation for drinking all that beer and such. But as it turns out, driving while intoxicated is a felony here; they actually put people in jail for it. Now in the first place, I don't think that I'd look good in stripes; in the second, I think jail would be a real bore.
It's not that I don't get off on women once in a while; I certainly do. But I think I'd get a little tired of it after a while. Too much of one thing is... well, too much.
So, I was sitting at the bar all by myself sipping a Drambuie and really not caring whether anything else happened to me or not. It's always nice when something does happen, but there are some nights when you just feel so good that you don't care.
There aren't many nights like that in my life, but it happens.
"Could I buy you another one of those," a male voice said from my side.
I guess I must have jumped a little or something, but I didn't even realize anyone was sitting there; I guess I was sort of lost in my own thoughts or something.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he added when I looked at him.
"Oh, that's all right... I just wasn't expecting anyone to say something to me, that's all."
"Well, if you'd rather be alone... "
"No, really... Some company would actually be welcome."
"So how about that drink?"
"Certainly... It's Drambuie."
"Bartender, a Drambuie for the lady," he called to the man behind the bar.
As we waited for the drink to arrive, I finished the last of what was left in my glass and studied him. He was about my age, maybe a year or two younger, and he had sort of sandy blond hair, a small moustache and watery blue eyes. I thought he was very nice looking even though he was a trifle on the thin side.
Not that I have anything against that. I can't stand fat ones.
It's like the late Babe Paley is alleged to have said: "You can't be too rich or too thin."
"I think it would be nice to start with your name," he said when the drink was in front of me.
"Sylvia Baker," I told him. "I'll bet you have one too."
"I wonder how you guessed that... Jim Daniels, Captain, U. S. Army."
"What's your date of rank?" I asked.
"Hmmm... Is its possible that you outrank me?"
"It is."
"Then I don't think I'll tell you... You're too pretty to call 'M'am' if you do."
"Thank you... Flattery will get you everywhere," I told him..
"Everywhere?"
"Well, some places take longer to get to than others... But with time and persistence, nearly anything is possible, isn't it?"
That was sort of a fib because I would have gone home with him without even finishing my drink, but I don't like them to know that I'm as loose as I am. Men have fragile egos, and if something is too easy, they don't want it. I think it's stupid, but that's the way they are, poor things.
"In that case," Jim said, "I have plenty of time, and I'm nothing if not persistent."
"I guess we'll just have to see what happens."
Well, to make a long story a bit shorter, we sat there and chatted for almost two hours about where we were from, what we did, where we went to school and so forth; all the usual information you exchange when you first meet someone. I've always thought that that information should include how big a man's cock is, but for some odd reason, the rest of the world doesn't see it that way.
After I finished the third drink he bought me, I told him that I had to go home because I had to get up early in the morning for work. He looked a little hurt.
"But it's hardly midnight," he said "That's bedtime for me on week nights," I told him.
"How about a nightcap at my place?"
"I'm afraid that I'll have to pass this time."
"Then how about some other time?"
"We'll see."
There was a pause and a flush came to his face as he began again. "You busy Saturday afternoon?" he asked.
I thought about it for a moment. I had planned to take the train to Munich after work on Friday and spend the weekend there. Beer halls, oompah bands and all that. But Munich would be there other weekends... I wasn't so sure about Jim Daniels.
"No," I said.
"Then how about a drive in the country... There're some nice things to see around here."
"Fine... I think I'd like that."
We set the time and I told him where I lived so that he could pick me up and all that. Then
I went home. Even if it turned out to only be a drive, I thought it was going to be fun, and ;I was looking forward to it.
Don't ask me why I was so ladylike and didn't take him up on his proposition. It really isn't like me, but there was something about him that I really liked. I hoped we'd become friends.
And I had the feeling that if I were too easy, it would just be a one night stand, and that would be it.
I thought that I wanted more out of it than that.
And when it comes to things like that, I've learned to trust my instincts. I didn't for a long time, and every time it happened, things went wrong. Sometimes it takes a while, but eventually, I learn.
Needless to say, time didn't go very fast for me while I waited for it to finally be Saturday. I found that I was thinking about it constantly, and the more I thought about it, the more anxious I was for it to be here.
In a way, I felt like a teenager again, and it surprised me.
You'd think that I'd be more casual about this kind of thing by this point, and I usually am, but it was different this time. There was something special about it.
By the time that he finally knocked on my door, I was pacing the floor. He was ten minutes late, and I was terrified that he'd forgotten about our date or just decided not to show up.
But by the time we were in his little red sports car heading out of the city with the top down, I was completely composed. I didn't even care that the wind was blowing my carefully arranged hair all over the place. It was a beautiful day, and I just let myself relax into it and enjoy being with him. I didn't know where we were going, and I didn't care.
I was relieved that he took a back road out of town because I didn't want the tension of driving on the autobahn to disturb the nice way that I was feeling. Even with someone else driving, it would have made me nervous.
We were driving past small farms, and even though there was nothing spectacular about the scenery, it had a refreshing, pastoral quality to it that was nice. There was a quality to it that let you know that the people who farmed there were good, simple, honest people who loved the soil and what it produced.
We didn't talk a whole lot as we drove because the wind rushing past us made it difficult. But that didn't really matter; just being there with him and the glorious day was enough.
After about half an hour or so, there was water in the near distance and high hills to our right. Jim pointed to the water and said, "The Rhein River."
It didn't look any different than any other river, so I just said, "Oh."
Then there was a sharp bend in the road, and suddenly, we were right beside the river and there were steep hills on both sides of it planted with vineyards.
It was gorgeous.
I saw a castle perched high on one of the hills, and it suddenly came to me.
"I don't believe it!" I said to Jim. We were driving slower then.
"Don't believe what?"
"This is the Rhein River Valley."
"I told you it was."
"I know, but what I mean is that this is THE Rhein Valley... The famous part of it, the part that you see on all the travel posters."
"You didn't know it was here?'
"I knew it was somewhere in Germany, but I didn't know it was this close to Frankfurt."
"Well, it is, and you're there."
I thought that I should pinch myself to make sure that I wasn't dreaming. The beauty of it was breathtaking. There was a bluish haze over the river when you looked into the distance that gave the bends of the river a dream-like look.
On either side of the river there were castles every mile or so. Some of them were Medieval, and others looked like they'd been built during the Renaissance or even later. And there were vineyards planted everywhere that it wasn't too rocky.
Every time we went around a bend, there was a new panorama, and it seemed like each one was more spectacular than the last. Then we passed a small island near the right side of the river that had a brown domed building on it that I'd seen in hundreds of adds and posters.
"That's where they used to collect tariffs on the river traffic," Jim told me. I was speechless.
The traffic was moving slowly now, and that was just fine with me. I wanted to take all of it in, and I was sorry that I hadn't brought my camera. But then it was so close that I could really go there anytime I wanted to, so that could wait for another day.
Traffic was moving slowly on the river as well, and there was a lot of it. There were barges with little houses at one end of the boat that pushed then. Most of the houses had window boxes with blooming flowers, and on some of them, there were clothes hung out to dry. It was where the owner-operators of the boats and their families lived.
In addition, there were tourist steamers that were crammed with people. I was glad that I was in a car with Jim. Seeing all that was a very thrilling experience for it, and I didn't think that I'd like to share it with a lot of strangers.
"Lorelei," Jim said at one point and gestured to the top of a steep hill on our side of the river.
I craned my head up at, but I couldn't see the top.
"Don't worry, you'll get a better look when we drive down the other side," he said.
"This is really fabulous," I said. I really couldn't think of anything else.
The Rhein itself looked a little dirty, but that didn't detract from the scene. The green of the hills as they rose beside the river and the blueness of the clear sky overhead and the story-book castles on both sides made up for all that.
I jumped when I heard the shrill whistle of a train as it sped out of a tunnel right beside the roadway. Then I noticed a train headed in the other direction on the other side of the river. I hadn't noticed the tracks before, but now I saw that there were two sets of them on either side of the river. In some places, they were right next to the road and in others, they were well set back into the hills.
"Feel like stopping for a drink or something?" Jim asked me.
Whenever we passed through one of the small towns that rose a few hundred feet against the side of a hill, there were always outdoor cafes just a few feet beyond the road.
"Not just yet," I told him. I was still so excited about being there that I wanted to see it all non-stop. I wanted to etch it all into my brain so that I could come back to it any time that I wanted to.
We came to a sign that said "Marborg," and Jim turned off the road. The smaller road that we were on went torturously up the rocky hillside in a sharp series of bends and twists. I thought we were going to some town nestled between the hills, but about three quarters of the way up, we pulled into a parking lot in front of a very old castle.
"This is the oldest one still standing," Jim said. "I thought you'd like to see it."
He paid for our tickets, and we went inside the gates. There weren't many other people there. When we were just inside the main arched doorway, Jim turned me around and pointed to it.
"See how they added bricks to it to make it smaller?" he said.
You couldn't tell it from the outside, but on the inside, you could see a layer of bricks around the original stone masonry that made the entrance about three feet smaller all around.
"Made it easier to defend the place," Jim told me.
We wandered through what was left of the place, and I found it fairly interesting. The roof had fallen in here and there, but other than that, it was pretty much intact. All in all, it didn't look like it had been a comfortable place to live.
When we were finished, Jim took me around to the rear of the castle to look at the vineyards that surrounded it. The vines were all severely pruned, and they looked more like bushed attached to a triangular support than vines. The grapes on them were still very small.
"Raw wine," Jim said when he pointed to a bunch of the developing grapes.
He took my hand, and we stepped over a low wire fence.
"Isn't someone going to get upset about our being here?" I asked.
"We aren't going to hurt anything, and a little farther in, you get a nice view of both the other side and the river. It's a lot different than looking up at it."
We walked a short distance between the low rows of leafy vines, and I saw what he was talking about. The river was far below us, and from that height, it looked more like a stream.
And the hills on the other side of it were clear and distance. Looking directly at them, I could see how the vineyards were laid out, patch by patch, making the side of the hill look like a patchwork quilt. It was another spectacular view.
Then I felt Jim's arm around my shoulders. He turned me slowly around so that we were facing each other. There was a nice smile on his face, and his blue eyes peered directly into mine.
He pulled me into him and our lips came together.
I felt like I was melting, dissolving into him, merging with his body and mind. I knew right then that I was lost, that he could do anything with me that he wanted to. Any pretext of being a "nice" girl was gone forever. I wanted him and I didn't care if we did it right there on the ground or in the middle of the road or anywhere else for that matter.
He pressed his lips harder against mine, and I started to drift. Even the physical beauty of the place couldn't distract me from the pleasure of his holding me close to him.
Both of us opened our mouths to each other and our tongues swirled together. The hot wetness of his mouth made me more excited. I'd never dreamed that a kiss could arouse me to such an extent.
As it continued, I felt my nipples get hard as they pressed into his chest, and there was a twinge in my clit as it engorged. My pussy was beginning to feel all warm and moist. Time stopped for me as he pulled me even tighter against him. The earth was standing still on its axis.
The embrace continued for an infinite period. I had the feeling that it would never end, that it would only build in intensity. I thought that whatever we did would have a cosmic nature, that what was happening between us was something that would affect the universe.
As we held onto each other, I felt his hands move along the sides of my body, over and around my back, across my buttocks. Every place he touched me made my skin come alive.
Finally, we brought our lips apart and he looked at me. I can't explain the thrill that his gaze sent through me. It seemed to encompass every possible emotion from animalistic lust to the love that a mother has for a newborn infant. It was something that almost frightened me.
"I like you very much," he said throatily. But the tone he used said more. "And I like you."
He looked around for a moment, then he turned back to me. "Here?" he asked. "Here."
He pulled me into him again, and our lips crashed against each other. There was more heat in both of us now that we knew what was going to happen. It was as if we had released ourselves so that our passions could build with no fear that they wouldn't be satisfied.
The warmth that I was feeling in my pussy spread throughout my entire pelvic region. I could sense that more fluids were seeping into my cunt, and there was a steady stream of sensations from both my clit and my nipples. My flesh turned to goosebumps with the thrill of it.
When the embrace ended, he leaned me away from him and put his hands over my breasts. Jim kneaded them gently through my blouse and bra, then he added more pressure to his touch.
The stimuli that I felt reminded me for a moment of Jacques. It was as if once my breasts had been taught to respond that way, the same response was there whenever they were touched.
Mentally, I gave Jacques a thank you.
Jim went to the buttons of my blouse and quickly unbuttoned them. Without taking the blouse off, he unhooked my bra and draped it on a grape vine. Then he ran his fingers over my breasts and tweaked the nipples. I got hotter and wetter
"God, those are nice," he said with a catch in his voice.
"Thank you."
He bent at his knees and put his mouth over the right nipple. He sucked in on the thing, then he ran his tongue around the aureole and ended by flicking it back and forth over the firm tip of the nipple.
Jim moved his mouth to the other nipple when he was finished, but now he brought his fingers to the one that his mouth had left. He squeezed it gently and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. I let out a long, low moan at the pleasure that it gave me.
As he worked on my nipples, I ran my fingers though the fine hairs at the nape of his neck. He sucked my nipple farther into his mouth and added more pressure to the fingers that were manipulating the other one.
My breathing became labored with the pleasure that I was feeling.
When he came off my nipple and stood up, he brought his fingers to the nipple that had been in his mouth. As he stood there squeezing them, I unbuttoned the shirt he was wearing and ran my fingernails over his nipples. Then I pressed them between my fingers and pulled them gently away from his chest. I could tell that he was just as excited as I was because the small brown patches of skin were firm to my touch.
He let. out a sigh.
"Most women don't know that men like that too," he said huskily. "I'm a nurse, remember?" "True."
"And I'm also not a virgin." I had thought about pretending that I was, but now that seemed pointless.
"I sort of got that impression," she said to me.
Jim kissed me hard on the lips, then he unfastened my skirt and unzipped it. It fell to the ground around my ankles. I couldn't have cared less if it got dirty or not.
I let go of his nipples and sent my hands to his crotch. His cock was making a tent in the slacks that he was wearing, and I pressed the palm of my hand into it. The hardness of it felt nice. I moved my hand around in small circles, and I could feel the thing strain against the fabric of his pants.
I was anxious to get it out of his pants, so I unfastened his best, unhooked the fastener at the top of the fly and unzipped it. Jim's slacks fell to his ankles after I pushed them over his hips. Then I pushed his shorts over his hips and looked down at his cock. It stuck straight out from his groin, and I could see the blood pulsing in the distended arteries of the shaft.
I wrapped my hand around it and squeezed the thing.
Jim let out another sigh.
I loosened my grip on his thick cock and ran my fingers over it. Then I made a fist on the mushroom shaped glans of the thing and pressed firmly on it. The smooth skin had a nice feel to it, and I couldn't wait to have the thing inside me. From the dampness that I could feel in the crotch of my pantyhose, I knew that I was ready for it.
As I held his cock, he put his fingers through the elastic waistband of my pantyhose and slipped them over my hips and knelt down so that he could pull them all the way down to my ankles.
His cock was pulled out of my hand as he did it, and I missed the sensation of touching the thing. He pulled his shorts to his ankles after he finished with my pantyhose.
I put both my hands on his cock when we were standing face to face again. At the same time, he brought his hands to my mound and pressed against it. That sent a surge of sensations through me, and there was a strong twinge in my engorged clitoris.
I let out another moan at the pleasure that I was feeling.
Jim ran the tips of his fingers through my pubic hair. Even though it was a warm day, my cunt was so hot that the air felt cool and refreshing against the area between my legs.
Jim brought his fingers to the sides of my slit and moved them up and down. Gradually, he brought them closer and closer to my outer lips. When he finally got to them, he increased the pressure of his fingers, and the outer folds on my cleft were pressed inward.
Jim moved his fingers so that they parted the outer labia, and he sent then to the bottom of my slit, just barely opening me. There was a gentleness and lightness to his touch that heightened my arousal. Still more oily fluids oozed into my cunt.
His fingers went to the top of my slit and he nudged his index finger under the hood that concealed my clit and swirled it around inside me. Every time it brushed over that concentrated nub of nerve endings, a burst of pleasure raced through my body.
"God, I'm ready to have you put that thing inside me," I told him.
"I don't know... " he said hoarsely.
"You mean that now that we've gone this far, you don't want to do it?"
Just the thought of it alarmed me. I was so hot and wet that I thought I'd die if I couldn't get that cock in me. I was really feeling the need to be filled with it.
"It's not that... Not by a long shot," he said. "It's just that you turn me on so much that I'm not sure how long I'm going to be able to last."
"Oh... "
"I think it would be best is you were right on the edge before I put it in."
I moved my hand to his scrotal sac and cupped it. His balls shrank right up to the base of his cock, and that told me that he was indeed extremely excited.
I was only able to hold my hand there for a moment. Before I knew what was happening, he was on his knees and his face was pressing into my mound. Just the pressure of it sent me higher.
Then I felt his tongue moving against my slit. He ran it back and forth across the outer lips and went from the top of it to the bottom. He made his way back to the top and stopped there. I arched my hips into him as he slit his tongue into me and rotated it. When he found my clit, he held his tongue against it and pressed it against the pliant flesh around it.
He held it there motionless for a moment, then he began to move it. The motions were almost imperceptible at first, but they sent a strong wave of pleasure cascading through my body. Each little movement that he made was electrical.
With agonizing slowness, he began moving his tongue more on my stiff little clit. Every time it brushed over the bared end of the thing, a jolt went through me that made me hold my breath for an instant. The sensation was almost too strong to bear, but at the same time, I longed to experience it again as soon as it was over.
As Jim began to move his tongue faster and faster, I soared to a high plateau of pleasure. The sensations were exquisite now, and the rate at which juices were flowing into my pussy escalated dramatically. The flames of my passion were fully ignited now, and each time he stroked my clit with his tongue, Jim fanned them. The conflagration was threatening to consume me.
I was floating with the pleasure that he was giving me, totally lost to the stimulation of his constantly moving tongue. I felt like I was melting, turning to mush with the ecstasy of it.
I sailed higher with each quick lash of the thing.
Then I felt the sensations gathering force within me.
They were building on one another now, each new surge of them amplifying the next. I was being pushed closer and closer to the edge, and my knees were starting to shake as my body got tenser and tenser. There was a vast chasm before me, and it was about to swallow me whole.
He was flicking his tongue rapidly on me now, and I reached that conflicted point where I didn't want the pleasure to end, but my body ached for a release. The charges that were accumulating in my nerve ending had to be dissipated, and there was no way that I could avoid it.
"I'm ready," I moaned breathlessly. "PUT THAT THING INSIDE ME!"
But nothing happened.
His tongue kept moving back and forth on my hard clit.
I was so close to the edge now that I knew I was about to be thrown headlong into the abyss. There was no resisting the inexorable buildup of energy. It had simply gone too far.
"I'M ABOUT TO COME!" I gasped. "I NEED THAT COCK IN ME."
Still no change.
The quaking of my body grew stronger, and it seemed as if his tongue was going even faster against my clitoris. The sensations were sublime now, and there was no point in trying to stave off the gathering storm; it was going to break over me no matter what I did.
"I'M COMING!" I cried as I felt the orgasm hit me.
As the first spasm gripped my cunt, there was a blinding flash in my brain. It obliterated everything, and I was swept away by the fury of the climax as it ripped through me.
I was only vaguely aware of it, but at that moment, Jim stopped licking my clit and stood up in front of me. He bent at the knees so that his cock was at the right level, then he brought it to the center of my slit and parted my outer lips with the tip of it.
He was holding the thing at the base to guide it, and he moved the head of the thing around in me until he found the entrance to my spasming hole. He pushed it slowly inside me.
When the entire head of the thing was buried in my pussy, he released his hand, and with one even thrust, he buried his thick cock in me to the hilt. I let out a gasp at the way the sensation of being filled intensified the orgasm that held me in its throes.
Jim held his cock in me for a long moment. By that time, the sensations of the orgasm were beginning to fade, and my cunt was drenched with fluids. He stood up a little bit so that the dorsal side of his cock was really pressed against the upper wall of my pussy.
Then he pulled partway out of me and shoved his cock back inside me.
The movement of it made my engorged clit slide against the slick membranes that surrounded it, and as he was pulling out for another thrust, the sensations that he created threw me into the gaping maw of another orgasm. It was like being captured by a black hole in space.
He began to pound his cock rapidly in and out of me as my cunt convulsed on it. It was like my pussy wanted to get every possible sensation out of the thing that it could.
His cock was moving easily in me, and he began to go faster and faster with it. I was panting and gasping for breath at the pleasure he was giving me.
As he lunged into me, there was one fiery orgasm after another.
Then they started to crash in upon each other and merge in a continuous climax. The spasms were stronger now, and one shudder after the other made its way from my pelvis up through my torso.
My hands and feet went myotonic.
I had the feeling that each heavy thrust that he made into me was setting off a new round of orgasmic fury. My body was shaking violently by that time, and I wasn't really sure that I could take any more. But there was no stopping that cock of his; Jim was holding my hips as he rammed into me and pulling me into his cock as he drove it in.
I had the feeling that he was penetrating me to my innermost depths.
I was totally lost to time and space as my pleasure mounted in a crescendo that seemed to have no end. I was lost to the seething ocean of my passions in full fury.
His cock pounded into me again and again and again.
As I hit a blistering peak that took my breath away, Jim let out an incomprehensible shout, took several more quick thrusts in and out of me, then sank his cock deep inside me.
His hips jerked against me as his cock shot burst after burst of warm jism into me. The movements of his cock as he shot and the warm feeling that his come gave me as it filled my cunt made that final orgasm even more shattering.
Jim held his cock inside while both of us gasped for air. I felt the thing lose some of its rigidity. He moved his hands to my shoulders and held our sweaty bodies tightly together.
I felt as if my entire body was glowing as we stood there in the vineyard.
Once we'd managed to regain some of our composure, he let his cock slip out of me.
Without saying anything, we dressed and left the vineyard hand in hand. There was a new beauty to the valley as I looked across the river at the steep bluffs on the other side.
We spent the rest of the afternoon driving up to Koblenz and back down the other side of the river. We stopped twice at outdoor restaurants and had glasses of the delicate white wine that comes from the grapes grown in the region, and it was early evening by the time we got back to Frankfurt.
By that time, both of us were ready for more, and we had it at my place before we went out to dinner that night. After that, we went to his place and spent the night there. I don't think I got much sleep; just a catnap here and there.
Sunday, we drove down to Heidelberg and saw the castle there and walked around the old part of the city with its Teutonic houses and quaint shops. That night was more of the same, and I was so tired on Monday that I didn't think I'd be able to get through the day. It was the kind of tiredness that I really didn't mind all that much.
Next weekend, we're going to Paris. Jim wanted to drive, but I really had to insist that we take the train. We won't be needing a car once we get there, and there's a night train that has a sleeping car with compartments for two. The idea of doing it on a train appeals to me.
Well, there's a lot more to say about him, but writing what I have has given me that old feeling again. I wish that I could just give Jim a call and tell him that I need him to come over right away, but it's late, and he has to be at work even earlier than I do. The Army is big on starting very early in the morning; but in most jobs, getting there on time is about the biggest event of the day. If you got there on time, you weren't considered all bad.
FRIDAY
June Sixth
The train that we're taking to Paris doesn't leave until ten tonight, and it's only six and I'm all ready to go, so I thought I should write something before Jim picks me up at nine He's going to leave his car in my parking lot, and we're going to take a cab to the station; we figured that it would be easier that way.
I'm really so excited about seeing Paris that I have to do something to occupy my time before we leave. And seeing it with someone that I like will be a vast improvement over going there alone. It just seems to be the sort of city that you should see with someone you like.
And Jim's been there before, so I'm sure that will help. I mean, I've read about some of the things that happen to unsuspecting tourists here and there; like having one drink and getting a bill for the equivalent of fifty dollars. I'm sure that won't happen with Jim along.
It's sort of like having a long standing wish finally fulfilled!
I mean, going to a city that I've dreamed about seeing all my life, and going there with someone that I like a lot. I don't know if I'm starting to fall in love with Jim or not, but the time we spent together last weekend was really fabulous. We seem to get alone together, and we certainly do have some mutual interests. Whether it gets serious or not is really sort of irrelevant at this point.
That's something that I've thought about in the past, and I still haven't come up with any cogent answer. There have been a few affairs in my life, but so far, I've never really thought about settling down with someone. I know that if I did, it would have to be someone very special.
I just don't think that marriage, two kids and a house in the suburbs is something for me. I wouldn't mind the marriage bit even if it is a little irrelevant these days, and I think I could even put up with the two kids. But I'm certainly not the type for a suburban lifestyle.
And I know that I couldn't handle someone who had the idea that marriage meant a monogamous sexual relationship. I mean, I think I could handle it. to some extent; having one primary sexual partner, for example. But one and only one just doesn't cut it as far as I'm concerned.
I don't know if what I'd like really falls into what people call an "open" marriage, but it's something like that. There would have to be something else in it besides just the one man, no matter how good he was and no matter how often he liked to do it.
Variety, after all, really is the spice of life.
And I'm not sure that what I want is something that would be called "swinging" or "wife swapping." Those terms just don't mean a lot as far as I'm concerned.
I guess I really don't know what it is that I want.
But that's something that I try not to think about very much. The present is very nice as far as I'm concerned, and I think that it's best just to let the future take care of itself.
Well, all this isn't really getting me anywhere.
The most interesting thing that happened this week is that I had my first experience at the hospital. I think that I've gotten the lay of the land down fairly well, so I went ahead and let something happen. I've been wanting to do it, but so far, I thought it was wise to be careful.
We have this one Lieutenant in the ward who broke a vertebra when he fell down some stairs, and they have him both in a body cast and in traction. I know how uncomfortable that is, but he never complains or anything. He's been remarkably good about the whole thing.
I give him a sponge bath every afternoon, and each time I've done it, I've been fascinated with his cock. The temptation to do something with finally got the better of me. Up until yesterday, I always washed it off very quickly, and even then, the thing would start to grow.
He's in a room by himself, and when I went in to give him his bath yesterday, I locked the door behind me. Most hospitals don't even have locks on the doors to rooms, but this one does.
As I said before, the place was built by the Germans, and as far as Germans are concerned, if you have a door, you have a lock. That's all there is to it. The idea of a door with no lock is unthinkable to them; it's just the way they are.
Anyway, yesterday, we were chatting as I sponged him off, and this time I didn't give his cock the old once over lightly routine. I took my time with the thing.
"I think it's about time this part of you got really clean," I told him.
The thing started to rise as soon as I put the damp towel on it. I think that he thought I was kidding or something, because when I looked at his face, it was beet red.
He squirmed to as great an extent as was possible, then he said, "I don't think it needs more than that."
The thing was getting bigger and bigger, and I knew that he wanted me to finish before he got a full erection. I guess he was embarrassed that what I was doing was turning him on.
"From the looks of things, it could use a lot more," I said.
"Is it really that dirty?" he asked me in a surprised tone.
There really was no way for him to know whether it was or wasn't; he hadn't been able to see the thing since he'd been in the hospital.
"That's not what I was talking about," I told him.
By that time, he had a full, throbbing erection, and I was glad to know that what I had suspected about his cock was true: it was a long one, and it was nice and thick.
I put the towel on the bed beside him and put my hand around the base of his cock.
"What are you DOING?" he asked in an alarmed voice..
"Are you telling me that you don't like it?" I moved my palm up along the underside of the thing and it made a little jump as it graze over the sensitive area where the rim of the head disappears into the hole at the end.
"No, I like it, but I don't think I can stand for it to get all excited and nothing else happen."
"You mean that you think I'm just toying with you?"
"I don't know what I think... I'm so turned on, I can't stand it."
"Well, you don't need to worry... I'm going to give it everything it needs."
"This can't be real," he said to the ceiling.
"I assure you that it is."
I brought my hand back to his cock and brought the palm of it down the underside of it once again. His cock jerked once more, and when I got to the wrinkled sack beneath it, I cupped it. His balls shrank up to the base of his cock, and I pressed my hand into them.
"God, that feels so damn good!" he said as I held my hand there.
"I should hope so," I said.
Then I moved my hand to the base of his cock and wrapped my fingers around it. I held it there for a moment and looked at the arteries pulsing and throbbing in the shaft.
Then I bent my head over the thing and pressed my lips against the head. There was a glistening bead of moisture in the hole at the very end so I pulled back and licked it off with the tip of my tongue. There was a vaguely salty taste to it as I sucked on my tongue.
I put my mouth back to it, but this time I opened it and took the entire glans into my mouth. I ran my tongue over the smooth skin of it, then I stuck the very tip of my tongue into the hole at the end and made several quick, little rotations with it.
"This is fucking out of this world," he gasped huskily.
I started bobbing my head slowly up and down on the thing. I had the sensation that it was getting even harder as I worked on it. As I continued my movements, I brought my other hand to his balls and cupped them. Then I started going a little faster.
I began taking more and more of the shaft into my mouth as I bobbed on his cock. When the flared head started to bump against the back of my mouth, I stopped for a moment and held as much of him as I could in my mouth. I could feel the pulsing of the thick thing through my lips.
"In-fucking-credible," he moaned. I started going up and down on the cock again, and the faster I went, the harder his cock got in my mouth. It could have been made out of obsidian by that point.
I pressed my hand more firmly into his balls as I went faster, and I almost felt them filling up with his come. From the way they were pulled up to the base of his cock, I knew he must really be getting hot.
"Christ! That thing is almost ready to blow!" he gasped.
I moved my lips up and down a few times on his stiff prick, then I stopped with my mouth just over the flared glans and flicked my tongue back and forth on the underside of it. His cock began quivering in my mouth as I did it.
"Oh, God, it needs more," he moaned. "It's got to get off... It's almost there!"
But I didn't stop what I was doing with my tongue.
As I went on, he was gasping and panting for breath.
I could tell that he was right on the edge and I wanted to keep him there.
The taste in my mouth was getting more and more salty, and the area that I was running my tongue against was getting slicker and slicker. His Cowper's glands must have been working overtime.
"Shit! I can't stand any more... BRING IT OFF!"
I still didn't stop what I was doing, but I increased the pressure of my tongue a bit. His cock was trembling with even more violence as I continued. By that, time, I think that just one or two firm strokes with my lips on the thing would have set him off.
I wanted him to get off, but I wanted to make it as good as possible for him. When men get excited, most of the time all they're interested in is getting off; they don't realize that the longer and slower it takes, the better it is I don't know why they don't know more about it, but a lot of them don't.
I was going as fast as I could with my tongue, and he was letting out one moan after the other. He was in agony with his need to have a climax and send all that sticky come into my mouth.
Finally, I figured that he'd suffered enough, and I started going up and down rapidly on his cock. He let out a long sigh with the pleasure that he felt, then he gasped , made an incomprehensible shout, and his cock erupted with one strong burst of salty tasting come after the other. I held my mouth on it until the last weak spurts dribbled out of the hole at the end of the thing.
WEDNESDAY
June Eleventh
God, I can tell that I'm going to like it here.
I can't remember the last time that I had such a fabulous weekend. Everything about it was perfect, right from the start. And there wasn't so much as one sour note the whole time. Usually, 'there's at least a little something that goes wrong, but not this time.
Everyone always says that the French are rude and unfriendly, but that certainly wasn't the case. Maybe we were just lucky, but everyone that we encountered was nice to us. And the prices weren't really as bad as people say either.
I mean, it wasn't cheap by any means, but generally we got what we paid for. As far as I could see, it really wasn't any worse than New York, and the quality of everything was superior.
I knew that it was going to be nice as soon as we got to the train station. There's something kind of fun about European train stations, an air of excitement and expectancy that you won't get in an airport.
There are always lots of people coming and going, and just watching them post the placards that announce the trains is fun. "Trans Europe Express 34, 'Roland', Basel SSB, Genevre, Chiaso, Milano," and "Italia Express" with a string of stops that ends with Roma Termini. I can't really say what it is that I like about it, but just the idea of all those trains going to all those places is thrilling in a way.
I think that one of these weekends when I don't really have anything to do, I'll just go down to the station on Friday afternoon after I get off from work and wander around until I see a destination that strikes me, buy a ticket and get on the train.
Anyway, the train was waiting when we got there, and Jim and I went to the blue and gold Wagon Lit car and he presented our tickets and sleeping car reservation to the man standing in front of the entrance to the car. He looked at his list of passengers and checked off our names and wished us a pleasant journey.
We got on the train and went to our compartment. It was already made up for the night, and it was small, but quite nice. The walls were all dark wood paneling, and there was a wash basin that folded out from one corner. It seemed that there were little levers and switches everywhere. But unlike American trains, there was no John in that room; that was down the corridor, and it was used by everyone, both men and women.
From what I hear, that's a pretty common practice here, and it doesn't really bother me at all. Everything is always meticulously clean, and I don't see why anyone should be concerned about whether the person who used the John before you was a man or a woman. Of course, where there are big Johns with more than one facility, they're segregated, but Jim tells me that the cleaning person or attendant in most men's rooms is a woman. But I digress.
The train left exactly on time, and shortly after we pulled out of the station, the conductor came by and punched our tickets. Jim put them back in his wallet and said that it was important to keep them since they check them when you get off the train in Paris.
Then the sleeping car attendant came by and gave us forms that we had to fill out for the border crossing. He took our passports as well so that the customs and immigration people wouldn't have to wake us up. I thought that was sort of a nice gesture.
Jim reached in the shoulder bag that he'd set on the floor and produced a bottle of Champagne and two glasses. He handed me one and popped the cork of the bottle.
I hoped that that wasn't the only thing that was going to pop that night.
There was really no need for me to worry about it.
"Here's to your first visit to Paris," Jim said after he filled the tulip glasses.
"I hope there are many more," I said.
After we took a drink, Jim kissed me affectionately. "Have you ever fucked on a train before?" he asked.
"No, but I'm willing to have a go at it."
"I think you'll like it."
"If I liked it in a vineyard, I know I'm going to like it on a train."
"I get the feeling that you'd like it anywhere."
"You may not be too far off track."
Both of us laughed, and Jim refilled our glasses. The train was rolling along at a nice clip, and I tried to see out the window, but I couldn't make out much in the darkness. But that didn't matter since I had all that I really wanted to look at right there in the compartment.
"I'll have to start thinking about unusual places," Jim said after a pause.
"How about on top of the Eiffel Tower?"
"I think they might get a little upset about something like that."
"In front of the altar at Notre Dam?"
"I know they'd get upset about that."
"I don't really see why... I mean, the Bible says to make a joyful noise to the Lord and all that."
"I don't think that's what they had in mind."
"It certainly is joyful," I said. "Be that as it may, priests take a dim view of that sort of activity in their churches." "That's just because they aren't getting any."
"Could be... "
I looked at him for a long moment. Then I said, "Maybe we could do it in the Louvre... As far as I'm concerned, that thing of yours is a work of art."
"I don't think it'd be of much use hanging on a wall in a frame."
"True... Well then, how about in the middle of the Champs Elysee?"
"Too much traffic... We'd get run over."
"Unpleasant."
"Yes."
We finished the Champagne, and Jim moved closer to me on the bottom bunk. There was a brief station stop in Mainz, then we were rolling through the night again. There's a splendid feeling of isolation that you get on a train. You're completely insulated from the outside world, and it's almost like all your cares and the troubles of the world are at a great distance.
None of it can effect you as long as you're on that train.
Jim put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into him. "I think we ought to get naked," he said.
"Not a bad idea."
As I started to undress, he pulled the window shade down and locked the door. Then he began taking off his clothes. I always like to watch him as he undresses. He's got a really magnificent body, and I wish that I could have him nude all the time; it's just nice to look at him.
When both of us were undressed, I stretched out on the narrow bunk and he lay down beside me. We turned to each other and he gave me a long, deep kiss. It made me all warm and moist inside. My nipples were pressed against his hard chest, and I felt them get erect as he held me to him.
And as we held the kiss, I felt that thick cock of his get hard and begin to press against my tummy. Just the feel of it, and the knowledge of what it was going to do to me made me hotter. More and more fluids seeped into my cunt.
"God, that feels nice," I said when we finally broke the embrace.
"I'm glad you like it... I do too." He kissed me again briefly, then he pushed our bodies apart and let his hands roam over me. His fingers made me feel all tingly wherever they touched. His touch was light and gentle at first, then he exerted more force. He pinched me all over my body.
I started moving my hands over his body, and I tugged at the wispy hairs that surrounded his nipples. His cock made a little jump as I did it. Then I pulled on the nipples themselves.
He moved his fingers to my nipples and rolled them around between his thumbs and forefingers. They came alive at his touch, and pleasure cascaded through my chest. My clit was engorged by that time, and it gave a twinge with the sensations that he was creating in me.
Jim pulled my nipples out from my chest so that my breasts were elongated. He pressed his fingers more firmly into my nipples, and the pleasure of what he was doing escalated.
My cunt was getting wetter and wetter as more oily fluids oozed into it. The warmth of it was spreading throughout my entire pelvic region. A chill went up my spine with the pleasure of it.
I let go of his nipples and moved my hands to his crotch. I wrapped the fingers of one hand around the shaft just below the rim of the head, and I pressed the palm of my other hand into his balls. They shrank up to the base of his shaft.
I gave his cock several quick pumps, then I simply held it tightly for a moment. A glistening bead of moisture appeared at the hole at the end of the thing, so I moved my hand from his shaft and spread the slippery liquid around the gland with the palm of my hand. Then I closed my hand on his cock and rotated it from side to side. I felt the thing strain against me as I did it, and it produced a little more moisture.
When the fluid dried, I sent my hand back to the shaft of his cock and gave it another jerk.
As I did it, He released my nipples and put his hands against my mound. There was another strong twinge in my clit as he pressed his hands into me, then he ran the tips if his fingers through my curly pubic hairs. He tugged at them so that the skin was distended.
I was breathing hard by that time, and I was getting anxious for him to be inside me. That old feeling of wanting to be filled was coming over me again. Somehow, it seems that having a cock inside me is almost like completing my body; something that has been missing from it has been restored.
Jim parted my outer labia with his fingers and moved them from the top of my slit to the bottom and back to the top. The stimuli of him touching me there cause me to make a sharp intake of air, and I let out a little moan with the pleasure that I was feeling.
With the index finger of one hand, he parted the soft hood that conceals my clit and swirled his finger around in me. Each time it grazed my clit, there was a new surge of sensations through me.
With his other hand, he went farther down my slit and parted the outer lips with two of his fingers. He held them against the rim of my hole for a moment, then he pushed them slowly inside me.
I let out a long, low moan. Jim kept his fingertips just inside the hole for a moment and rotated them so that they stretched the membranes of the rim. It got more and more aroused with every movement that he made.
He pushed his fingers farther into me and spread them apart. As he swirled them around in the warm wetness of my cunt, I let out a groan of pleasure. The more he moved his fingers in me, the stronger the stimuli became. I felt as if I was drenched in fluids.
Then he pulled his fingers out of me and turned me on my back. There wasn't a lot of room between the upper and lower berths, so he had to really hunch down to get between my legs.
When he got there, he leaned over me and rested his weight on his forearms with his hips raised above my midsection. I reached around us and put my hand around the center of his shaft. He lowered himself, and the tip of his cock parted my outer lips. I moved it down until the head of it was poised against the entrance to my hole. He let his hips fall again, and the end of his cock slipped into me. He made a push, and the entire glans entered me.
Now that his thick cock was secure, I released the shaft from my hand.
Jim fell onto me gently and buried his cock in me to the hilt. He held it there for a long moment and just the sensation of being filled heightened my arousal.
"Now do you see what I was talking about?" he asked busily as he held his cock in me
"I don't understand what you mean."
"About fucking on the train... Doesn't it feel a little different?"
I hadn't really been paying all that much attention, but now that he mentioned it, there really was a difference. The swaying of the train as it rolled along moved Jim's cock slightly inside me, and the vibrations from the wheels were being transferred to me through the wheels.
There was a twinge in my clit at the extra bit of sensation it gave me. "Yes, now I do see," I said. "I hope you like it." "I do."
"That's what I thought."
Jim pulled his cock about halfway out of me and shoved it back inside.
"Oh, God, yes....YES!" I groaned. "Now I really see what you mean!"
The sensation of his cock driving into me along with the vibrations that were racing through my pelvis sent a torrent of pleasure through me. The vibrations heightened the feeling that his cock gave me.
He pulled out again, this time so that only the head of his cock was still inside me. With a forceful lunge, he drove it all the way back into me and held it there for a moment.
I let out a gasp as my hips were pressed into the bed.
He pulled out again and gave me another forceful thrust.
Then Jim set up a series of rhythmic in and out movements with his stiff prick. Each time that he pulled it back and forth, my clit moved against the slippery, pliant folds that surrounded it.
As Jim pushed in and out of me, still more juices flowed into my cunt, and he was able to go faster and faster inside me. The sensations got better and better as it went along, and I soared higher and higher with them. Every hard plunge was a new thrill for me.
As he began to go faster, the strokes became harder.
I was gasping and panting for breath by that time, and what he was doing to me was pushing me closer and closer to the edge. As the sensations got more and more exquisite, I began to answer his thrusts with my hips.
After a few minutes, they were bucking against his.
Jim was ramming his cock even deeper into me now, and I could feel the head of the thing pushing against the back wall of my cunt whenever he drove all the way in. The way he was stretching me, and the sensation the rim of the head produced as it moved against the top wall of my cunt made me start to writhe beneath him.
It was all I could do to whimper as my pleasure mounted.
The pleasure I was feeling became sublime as I got closer and closer to my peak. I moaned and groaned as one wave of it after another washed over my body. It was sheer delight.
I began to float with it.
I drifted.
It was like sinking into a fleecy cloud.
Then all the sensations and pleasure that I'd had gathered force and welled up inside me. I made animalistic little whimpers as the fury of the storm within increased.
Then there was a blinding flash in my brain as I hit my first orgasm.
There was a spasm in my pussy.
A shudder made its way from my pelvis through my torso.
There were more spasms and more shudders as Jim ploughed in and out of me with renewed energy. Almost as soon as the first wave of sensations began to wane, there was another orgasm. This one was more intense than the first, and I was floated away by the pleasure of it.
T was totally lost to time and space. There was no reality for me except the passions that held me in their grip. I was a quivering mass of protoplasm totally consumed by my lusts.
The orgasms began to come fast and furiously. Each one of them was more intense than the one that followed it, and I had the feeling that it was too much for me. The pleasure that I was feeling was more than any mere mortal should be allowed to experience.
Jim plunged on and on, one heavy stroke after the other.
Then all the orgasms and all the sensations that I'd had merged.
They swelled to an incredible peak that shook me to the very core of my being. There were constant spasms in my pussy now, and my rigid body was shaking uncontrollably.
"Yeah, there it is... There it is... THERE IT IS!" Jim groaned as he plunged in and out of me.
I heard it as if it were coming through an echo chamber. My hearing was almost totally dominated by the sound of the blood that was rushing through my ears in a loud roar.
As he made his final strokes back and forth in me, I hit a blistering, shattering peak. I was completely lost to my seething passions, and there was nothing that I either could do about it or wanted to do.
Jim let out an inarticulate shout and plunged his cock all the way inside me. Then there was a strong contraction in his hips, and the first heavy burst of sticky jism jetted out of the end of his cock and into my pulsating pussy. As his cock spewed one spurt after the other into me, I felt the warmth of his come spread throughout my cunt.
When he finally stopped shooting, Jim rolled our bodies on our sides without letting his cock slip out of me. He kept it there until it had completely lost its rigidity.
I don't know how long we lay there with our arms and legs wrapped around each other, because the next thing I knew, it was light, and I was just waking up. There was a sheet and a light blanket over me, and Jim was in the upper berth.
The train was moving at a fast, steady rate. I looked out the window and saw one track after another beside the train. Beyond the tracks were the outskirts of a city.
We were there, and the train started to slow before its arrival at the Gare de L'est.
I was so excited that I didn't know what to do.
I woke Jim up, and we dressed as quickly as we could. By the time we'd brushed our teeth and I'm managed to arrange my hair and put on a little makeup, we were in the station.
This is hard to believe.
I've spent all this time writing, and it's starting to get late, and I haven't been able to get down anything about Paris. I guess I got a little carried away with what happened on the train.
And remembering that has had it's predictable affect.
My pussy is all warm and moist .and I'm going to have to do something about that. And since I'm here all by myself, there's only one thing that I can do, so it's back to the old trustworthy finger. Unlike some men, it's always here, and it's always able to do what it should.
I've been thinking about buying a vibrator or something like that, and they have sex stores here, so I really ought to go ahead and do it. I sort of wonder what Jim will think when I show it to him. I think that something like that might actually make things even better between us.
I know this might sound a little odd, but I think I might really get off on having the vibrator up my anus while Jim is battering the hell out of my cunt. It would certainly be worth a try.
There are a lot of things that I've always been intending to try, but for whatever reason, I just haven't gotten around to it. I guess that I've always been uptight about going into those sex stores in the United States and buying something. They always look so sleazy.
But that isn't the case over here, not at all.
The stores are actually nice, at least from what I've, seen looking through the windows. They do display the stuff in the window which I think is a little bit too much.
I mean, I wonder what a five year old kid thinks when he sees a twelve inch dildo in a shop window. Something like that could mess a kid up for the rest of his life.
He might get the idea that his thing was going to be that big some day. And unless he's incredibly lucky, it never will be that big. It could give him a permanent sense of inadequacy.
But then that's just the way things are, I guess. And maybe being exposed to things like that from an early age could be good for you. It's certainly a lot better than pretending that sex doesn't exist. And a whole lot better than telling children that it's dirty.
Well, this still isn't taking care of my problem.
It really is time that I got started, otherwise, I might be up all night with it. There are times when when I just keep my finger going until I really can't take anymore. I just get so lost to the pleasure of it that by the time I've finally had enough, it starting to get light outside. Then I'm tired as hell the next day at work.
And being tired at work is something that I really don't like at all.
THURSDAY
June Twelfth
Well, I do want to say something about Paris and the weekend we had there. Looking back over the last few entries that I've made in this, a person would get the idea that the only thing that I care about is fucking. Well, that's certainly an important part of my life, but it isn't the only thing that I'm interested in. I have a little more depth than that, I think.
As I said, everything went beautifully, and it was one of those perfect weekends that I'll never forget. It was so good that I'd never even try to duplicate it; it just wouldn't be possible, and failing would make that weekend miserable. I'm just going to take things as they come.
We saw all the sights, of course.
The Eiffel Tower.
The Louvre.
Notre Dame.
The Champs Elysee.
L'etoille.
In short, all the MUSTS that were possible for us to take in on a weekend.
I know that it's going to take a lot of weekends and probably a few full week trips to that city before I really cover even a part of it with any sort of depth. And the place is so fabulous that it's worth spending that kind of time to get to know it.
I wish that I could put my finger on just exactly what it is that makes it so special. It seems like there should be a single word that could sum it all up, but if there is, I don't know what it is.
I guess it's everything and the combination of all the best things.
For one thing, the architecture is built to a human scale.
It's not like New York where you're really dwarfed by the buildings. Not that New York isn't one of the greatest cities in the world, but it does sort of overwhelm you. Paris is sort of like Greenwich Village in Manhattan, but magnified to an entire city... And without the freaks.
And there's a consistency of design about the central city that's very pleasing to the eye. You can tell that it was all built about the same time. And while it's relatively uniform in terms of style, it's never boring. There's always an interesting detail here or there.
And there's something unique about the light there. It seems to pick up the highlights of things and point them out to the viewer.
There are other times when it seems to fuse everything into a coherent whole, a unified and complete design, a place really intended for people to live.
And the way that the people live their lives is reflected in the city and the mood that prevails there. In just a weekend, I could sense that the people there really care about their lives, and that they do everything possible to enrich them. At least most of them.
There's a sort of sensuality to the place that pervades everything.
Just as the cityscape continually delights the eye, the food delights the palate. Eating is a sensuous experience, and they take it seriously. And when you add the excellence of the wine to the high quality of the food, you really have something special.
There's always a nice touch to things that I've never found anywhere else. For example, the people who play music at the entrance to the Metro, play good music, and they play it well.
And when we went to the Louvre, Jim made sure that we arrived by the Metro just so that I could see that station. I was dazzled as the underground train pulled in. The station is a part of the museum itself, and not only is it done in polished bronze marble, there are continually changing displays behind glass windows that are set into the walls.
Even the Metro is something else again. Most of the trains ride on rubber wheels, and they carry you from station to station with a gently whose rather than the clangor of the subway in New York. It's sort of all nice and civilized.
And everywhere you go, people seem to be enjoying themselves.
Whether they're just taking a walk along the Champs Elysee or on their way to work, there aren't a lot of concerned-looking faces. I got the impression that they were glad to be alive and having a nice day. They were enjoying what was around them, and it showed.
That's certainly a big difference from New York where people scurry here and there with scowls on their faces. Everyone in New York acts like they're late for something and in a rush to get there. And from their expressions, it's always something important, and they're worried about it.
The more I think about it, the less sense living that way makes
Maybe the way they live has something to do with that French sense of fatalism. Their attitude seems to be that what's going to happen is going to happen, so you might as well enjoy things while you can.
Que sera, sera.
Well, I've always sort of bought into that attitude. The only exception is that occasionally, when it's possible, I do what I can to make things happen. And that's specially true when it comes to things that I want physically. I'm not one to just sit there and wait for something to happen if I don't have to. There's nothing wrong with a little assertiveness.
But by the same token, I can't go along with all this "assertiveness training" and all that. What those crazies do is take a nice, well mannered woman and turn her into a cunt.
I've met a few of them in my day, and their act doesn't go over with me any better than it does with men. But they can be that way if they want to; all they end up doing is alienating other people.
It's a good prescription for loneliness as I see it.
I digress again.
But then I guess that I've said as much as I need to about Paris.
People have been writing about that place since the day one, and no one has really been able to describe it yet. You just can't know what it's like until you've been there. There's a saying that every man has two countries; his own and France. I'm coming to believe that.
Work was normal today, and I think that I've finally settled into the routine of the place. So far, I haven't run into too many people that I don't like working with, and that's nice.
There are a few that I don't particularly like, but that's bound to happen. With people like that, I do my best to get along, and I avoid them as much as possible. It makes life easier.
I don't see a need to have a confrontation unless it's absolutely necessary. But when it can't be avoided, I do my best to hold my own. Sometimes I win, sometimes I lose; that's just the way it goes.
I did take time out this afternoon to give that nice Lieutenant a hand job, and that was sort of nice. He sprayed come all over his cast which was a little messy, but nothing that I couldn't handle.
I think that I'd really like to fuck with him, but that would mean getting on the bed and straddling him, and I'm afraid that I might lose control and exert too much pressure on his spine. It would be a little difficult to explain if something happened as a result.
But in a few weeks, he should be out of the cast, and by that time, doing other things shouldn't be a danger to him. And in the meantime, sucking his cock or giving him a hand job is sort of a titillating pastime. It's always something to look forward to when things get slow in the afternoons.
I don't really know why they get so bent out of shape when you do something like that with a patient. I mean, I can see how much this guy's morale is improving, and he feels better, that can't possibly hurt him, can it? It might even make him get better sooner.
And that's why all of us are there, isn't it?
It seems to me that it's the sort of thing that ought to be encouraged rather than frowned on. But it's going to be a long time before the world gets to that point.
TUESDAY
June Twenty Fourth
I guess that I've been irresponsible about this again. I keep intending to get something written, but it just doesn't seem to get done. I suppose it's another of those cases of good intentions paving the road to Hell. I know that I should try to be better about things like this.
Jim and I have spent the last two weekends together traveling, and now he's starting to come over here once in a while on weeknights as well. The more I see of him, the better I like him.
One weekend we went to Munich, and that was nice even if it was a little touristy. The Hofbrau House downtown was filled with rowdy Americans, mostly college students, and that wasn't a whole lot of fun.
Jim hadn't wanted to go there in the first place, and for that very reason, but I was convinced that I had to see it. I mean, I've read about the place and heard about it all my life, and I thought that no matter what it was like, I at least wanted to see it.
Needless to say, we didn't spend a lot of time there.
We had one beer and left. Jim took me to a place away from the main downtown area, and that was really much nicer. We didn't hear a word of English spoken, and the crowd was a little high, but not rowdy and boisterous. The music was nice and we had a good time.
But last weekend was really the best, even if it didn't start off that way.
When we went to Munich, we took the train and had dinner on the way. As we sat in the dining car with the sun going down, we feasted our eyes on the passing panorama of central Germany outside the window. In addition, the food was quite nice and elegantly served.
But last weekend, we drove to Munich on Friday night because we were going to spend Saturday and Sunday driving through the Bavarian and the Tirolean Alps. I was really looking forward to seeing the mountains, but the thought of that trip on the Autobahn made me nervous.
I filched some Valium from the drug cabinet and took two of them before we left. I figured that as long as we had to do it, I might as well get some chemical release from the tension.
Even with the Valium, I was scared as hell the whole way.
Traffic is starting to pick up with the summer season, and that just makes things hell on wheels. Jim has a tendency to drive fast in the first place, and the speedometer on his car goes to one hundred forty miles an hour. I don't know if the car can go that fast, but I know that it doesn't have any trouble going to one hundred ten. At that point, I told Jim that he really had to take it easy; having your brains bashed out on the motorway isn't my idea of a pleasant beginning to a weekend.
So he slowed down to a mere hundred miles an hour.
I tried mostly not to look at the speedometer or the traffic.
The incredible thing was that even at that rate of speed , cars were still whizzing past us like we were moving slowly. And if we'd be passing a bus or truck there seemed to always be a Mercedes on our tail flashing its lights and blowing its horn.
What made it really dangerous is that they have these double semi tractor-trailer trucks that slow down to twenty miles an hour on hills and steep grade. One time, we were in the right lane and doing about ninety or a hundred, and we rounded a curve and there was one right in front of us going up the grade at thirty or forty miles an hour.
If there had been anything in the left lane, we wouldn't have made it.
That definitely called for another Valium as far as I was concerned.
By the time we pulled into Munich, I didn't care any more.
After we checked into our hotel, we had dinner and I had a few glasses of wine. That was all it took; instant blotto. I know that I shouldn't have been drinking anything with so much Valium in me, but I didn't think the effect would be so catastrophic.
So that more or less ended Friday evening for me.
But I woke up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed Saturday morning, and we got an early start into the mountains. You can see the Alps in the distance once you're twenty or thirty miles from Munich, and I was thrilled that I was finally seeing them.
Jim was a bit more blase about it. "Behold," he said as we drove along, "an Alp."
Well, it doesn't bother me if wants to feel that way.
And I guess he has a right to since he's seen it all before.
Anyway, we turned off the motorway when we were close to the mountains and drove along a small road until we got into the foothills. Everything was so green that it almost hurt to look at it. The onion like domes of the small country churches stood out in stark relief to the green of the fields that surrounded them and the deep blue of the sky above us.
We came to a small town named Neubayern, and Jim parked the car and we walked around for a while. There were only a few streets to the place, and it was like one of those towns you see on a postcard. The architecture was Teutonic with wooden staves crossing each other on the gables, and it had a fresh, clean, unspoiled look to it.
We lingered for a mid-morning beer and some bauenspeck which is an Austrian/Bavarian specialty. It looks like raw bacon, but it's been completely smoked so it's cooked. You eat it that way with bread, and it's really delicious.
A few miles down the road, we crossed the Austrian frontier at a small crossing point where the official on duty looked glad to see us; he was probably bored since there wasn't any traffic on that little road.
We didn't talk a lot as we drove.
I was so fascinated with everything that I saw that I just didn't want to say anything. It seemed like every bend in the road presented us with a new and interesting sight.
The mountains in Tirol weren't anything like what I expected them to be. I thought they'd be like the Rockies or the Sierra Nevada's in California or at least like the pictures that I've seen of the Swiss Alps. But they're altogether different.
They run in long ridges, and in between each high ridge is a wide, fertile valley. There are clusters of houses and small villages in the valleys, and the land is farmed both on the valley floor and on the sides of the mountains until it gets too steep and rocky.
The mountains themselves aren't that dramatic, but there's a quiet quality about them that makes them very beautiful. And the rural life of the valleys is everything that I would have expected. We even saw a farmer plowing a field with a team of horses.
That evening, we stopped at a little town called Mothern which sits high up in the mountains at the end of one of the valleys. The place is a ski resort in the winter, but there are a fair number of tourists in the summer as well. The views are awe inspiring.
There's a rather large hotel just outside the village, but we stayed at a small gastehaus not too far from it. The place was even better situated than the hotel, and the balcony of our room overlooked the entire valley.
The mountains turned to blue as the sun set, and we divided a bottle of wine on the balcony before going to dinner. On the floor of the valley, I saw a train as it snaked along and Jim told me that it was the Vienna-Paris Express. It was fun watching a train from that height.
It was late by the time we returned from dinner, and I way in a very good mood. That could have had something to do with the three liqueurs that I had after we finished eating.
At any rate, I was feeling playful as well as sexy, so I sprang the item I'd purchased on Jim as soon as we were back in the room.
It was a vibrator.
Jim just looked at it for a moment when I showed him the thing.
"And is that supposed to take my place tonight?" he asked with a smile.
"No, I thought it might be fun to put this in the other hole," I said.
There was a pause. "Then why did you only get one?" he asked.
"I don't think I understand what you mean... One is enough."
"Enough for what?"
"Well, if I have this up my ass and your cock in my cunt, that pretty much takes care of things."
"For you, it does."
"I still don't get it."
"Well, you know that I've got an asshole just like you do."
I was flabbergasted as the idea hit me. It had never occurred to me that a man would like something like that. I knew that some of them liked a finger in their anus when I sucked on their cocks, but something like this was completely new to me.
"You mean you'd like something like this up there?" I asked incredulously.
"I've got one at home that I stick up there when I jerk off," he said. I was stunned.
"I never knew that regular' men liked things like that."
"You mean you thought that's something only a fag would like?" "I guess I did."
"Well, you're dead wrong on that one... I've been into it for a long time."
"I wish you'd said something about it," I said to him.
"Well, it's not exactly dinner table conversation, is it?"
"No, but you could have found some way to let me know."
"I guess that I finally did."
There was a pause. "I don't suppose you brought it with you, did you?"
"No, it didn't occur to me... We've never used things like that."
"I'll tell you what we can do," I said. "We'll flip for it."
Jim laughed. "I can live without it at least once... I've managed all right so far, haven't I?"
"You certainly have."
"And I can tell that you're anxious to try the thing, so you might as well get it."
I didn't say anything, but actually, I was glad that we hadn't flipped for the thing. I'd purchased it several days previously, and I'd wanted to use it by myself, but I thought that it would be nicer if Jim initiated its use. I thought it would be sort of romantic that way.
I started to undress, and so did Jim. There was really no need for a lot of preliminaries before both of us got naked. And I was anxious for the action to get hot and heavy. I didn't know whether or not I was really going to get off on the thing, but I knew that I wanted to find out how it would feel. It was something different, and that always intrigues me.
When I was naked, I got on the bed and stretched out in the middle of it. My legs were spread, and the vibrator was beside me. As soon as Jim had all his clothes off, he lay down beside me.
"Did you bring any Vaseline?" he asked me softly.
"Oh, I didn't think of that," I said. "Do you think cold cream would do?"
I really felt stupid because we always use K-Y jelly on things that we put into people's rectums at work, even a thermometer. And that dildo was a lot bigger than any thermometer.
"Well, let's try it with the natural things and see how that works," Jim said.
We rolled together and he brought his mouth to mine. Our lips parted immediately, and our tongues swirled together. The head of his mouth made my arousal begin to mount.
As he held the embrace, my nipples became firm, and there was a feeling of moist warmth in my pussy.
He brought his head away from mine and lowered his mouth to my nipple. He put his lips over it and sucked the thing in. I let out a low moan as his tongue ran around the aureole, then flicked back and forth across the taut end of the thing.
The excitement of what he was doing sent me higher, and I felt more fluids ooze into my cunt. The thing was feeling hotter all the time.
Jim moved his mouth to my other nipple and gave it the same treatment. This time, he brought his fingers to the nipple that he left and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. Ripples of pleasurable sensations raced through my chest and more oily liquids seeped into my pussy.
He kept his mouth on my nipple, but he moved the fingers that were squeezing the other nipple to my mound and pressed against it. The pressure of his touch made my clit give a twinge.
My pleasure was building, and the sensations he was creating were getting better and better.
Jim moved his fingers to my slit and parted the outer lips with them. He ran them from the top of my cleft slowly to the bottom, then he returned just as slowly to the top.
Jim inserted his index finger beneath the cowl of skin that hid my engorged clitoris and swirled it around. I had to take a sharp intake of air every time that he grazed over the thing. The sensations his finger sent through me were electric; my clit was like the end of a live electrical wire, and his fingertip made a thousand volt charge shoot through me.
I was so wet by that point that I had the feeling I was drenched with my own juices. And the more excited I became, the more rapidly they flowed into my cunt.
I reached my hand between his legs and wrapped my fingers around his hard cock. I had them just below the rim of the flared head, and I gave the thing a small pump.
I released my grip on it and moved my hand gently over the entire surface of his thick, stiff prick. When I sent my palm up and down the underside of it, it made one jerk after the other.
"I think that I'm ready to have something inside me," I moaned hoarsely.
He took his mouth off my nipple and pulled his finger out of my slit.
"I think we should start with this," Jim said as he reached for the vibrator.
He turned the thing on and the humming sound that it made filled the room.
Jim brought the end of the thing to my slit and pressed it into me. The vibrations sent a surge of pleasure through every part of my body. I shuddered with the force of it.
He parted my outer lips with his fingers and poised the end of the vibrator against the entrance to my hole. He gave it a little shove and the tip of it entered mc. He gave it another push, and more of it slipped inside. Jim made a slow, steady shove, and the vibrator sank in almost to the base. His fingers holding it were against the outer folds of my gash.
When it was all the way in, the humming sound was softer, but the effect that it had on me was out of this world. The little movements that it made reverberated through my pelvis, and the slight motion of my clit against the slippery, pliant flesh around it sent wave after wave of intense sensations thundering through me. I let out a long series of moans.
Jim moved the thing around in me, from one side of my cunt to the other, then he began to move it back and forth. That coupled with the vibrations was almost too much for me to bear.
Jim spread my legs a little farther apart and raised my knees. Then he knelt between them and pulled my legs over my body. The effect was to roll me back on my shoulders and raise my hips high into the air. My slit and my asshole were at the apex of the curve between my legs.
Jim pulled the dildo out of me and it glistened in the light.
Jim brought his hand to his mouth and spit on it.
He transferred the saliva to my clenched ring of muscles and spread it around. Jim repeated the process a second time, then a third, but the third wad of the stuff, he applied to the vibrator.
Jim pressed the thing into me again, and this time, the tip of it parted my asshole. He gave it another push and more of it entered me. There was a sharp pain and I winced.
Tell me if I'm going too fast," Jim said when he noticed the expression on my face.
"I think it'll be all right," I told him. The vibrations were already beginning to ameliorate the pain of the things entrance. I was feeling more comfortable with it all the time.
"Sometimes it hurts at first," he told me.
"I know... Just like a cock, I suppose, but then it gets better."
"So you have done that?"
"Yes, a couple of times."
"Then this shouldn't really be any problem for you."
"No, I really do think I can take it."
He gave the thing another shove, and more of it entered me. There was another brief period of pain, but the pleasure that the vibrator sent through me quickly overtook the pain.
Jim pushed it in steadily and gently, and almost before I knew it, I felt the tips of his fingers against my distended sphincter. Then they were gone, and he gave the base of the thing a quick shove and my asshole closed behind it. Now it felt really nice.
But one thing did concern me. "How am I going to get it out?" I asked
"The same way you get anything out that's up there," lie said. "You shit it out. But if you want to, I, can always reach in later and pull it out... Don't worry about it.
"All right."
The truth of the matter was that the pleasure it was creating was getting so intense that I couldn't worry about getting it out of me. At that moment, I didn't think that I ever wanted it out except to change batteries.
The humming of the vibrator was almost inaudible now, but the sensations that it was sending through me were becoming exquisite. It was different than having it in my cunt; The pleasure it was giving me wasn't as intense, but there was a delicate nature to it that was wonderful.
"Now I need that cock inside me... I really need that thing!" I groaned.
Jim moved in closer and let my hips fall a bit so that his cock was resting against my slit. He pressed it against me and a surge of pleasure shot through my body. I had to have it right then and there.
I couldn't wait any longer.
I reached down and grabbed the thing at the base of the shaft. He moved back a little, and I positioned his cock at the center of my slit. The tip of it parted my outer folds and I held it poised against the entrance to my hole. He pushed forward, and the big thing started to slide in.
When the whole head of it was inside me, I let go of it, and he leaned his body over mine. He put his hands on the bed beside my shoulders and lowered his hips into me.
His cock slid into my slick hole to the base of the shaft.
I let out a moan at the way it stretched the membranes of my pussy. There was a strong twinge in my clit as his pubic arch pressed against my mound. I moaned again.
"Oh, God, that feels good... Really fuck that thing," I gasped.
"That feels good for me too," Jim said as he held his cock in me. "I can feel the vibrator against my cock."
He pulled his cock partway out and shoved it back into me. Then he pulled out so that just the head of his cock was still inside me. He rammed it back into me with enough force to press my hips into the mattress.
"OH, GOD! FUCK THAT THING... FUCK IT AS HARD AS YOU CAN!"
He set up a rhythmic series of strokes in and of my cunt, and each one of them sent me soaring. The combination of the vibrator inside me and his cock moving in and out and the way that my clit was moving was too much. It wasn't long before I was right at the edge.
I was panting and gasping with the pleasure that he was giving me. And the more he moved inside me, the more slippery I got. He was able to go faster and faster, and I had the sensation that he was penetrating me deeper and deeper all the time. I could feel the head of his cock as it hit the thin membrane that separated it from the vibrator.
"Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, YES. YES!" I gasped as he pounded into me.
He went faster all the time, and the sound of our hips slapping against each other filled the room. For a moment, I was concerned about someone hearing us, but the pleasure I was feeling quickly put the thought out of my mind.
I no longer cared about anything but what was happening right then.
The Outside world ceased to exist for me, and was carried away on a tidal wave of pleasure that would soon break with irresistible force. My body went rigid and I began to shake.
Then the orgasm hit me.
There was a searing flash in my brain, and my pussy went into a series of spasms. One shudder after the other made its way from my pelvic region up through my torso.
As soon as the sensations abated, there was another orgasm and another and another. They came in rapid-fire succession, and it was all I could do to get enough air into my lungs.
Jim made one heavy lunge into me after the other, and I had the feeling that I was having an orgasm with each of them. I was delirious with the pleasure that I was feeling.
As Jim rammed his thick prick faster and harder into me, the orgasms merged, and I was catapulted to a shattering peaks that divorced me from time and space. The only reality for me was the blistering climax that held me in a vise of ineffable pleasure.
I was only vaguely aware of it, but from a distance, I heard Jim give out a strangled, animalistic shout, then he sank his cock into me to the base of the shaft. His hips jerked and one burst of warm jism after the other spurted into my pulsating pussy. The warm of it as it spread through me served to further intensify the orgasm I was having
Well, I guess I've gone and done it again.
I didn't say a whole lot about Tirol, but once I started to remember what Jim did to me. I just couldn't stop. And the affect has been what it always is.
I'm so hot and wet that I can't wait to get to myself with that vibrator and that finger. The vibrator makes things a lot better, and I have to remember to buy a second one.
It'll be for Jim when he's here, but when he's not, it'll be for me.
I think it would be fun to have one inside my cunt and another one inside my ass while I diddle my clit. It would be like super stimulating everything, and I really can't wait try it.
After all, if you're going to play with yourself, you might as well go all the way. That's one area where there's no reason to stint on anything. Actually, I'm amazed that I never thought of it before. It makes a lot of sense.
SATURDAY
June Twenty Eighth
A weekend at home for a change. Actually, I can use it from the way, that things have been going between Jim and myself. He was over here twice this week, and I didn't get enough sleep to worry about. Not that I'm really complaining or anything like that.
I'm certainly not.
But now that we have two vibrators, and now that he's found that I'm not as "ordinary" as he thought about sex, it seems that he can't get enough. And I guess I can't complain about that either.
Something happens to him when, he gets that vibrator up his ass that is really unique. I've never seen a man do the things that he does in that condition. He was always charged up enough in the past, but now it's like he's got a super-charger inside him or something. He comes once, and then twenty minutes later. he's ready for it again. Sometimes it takes me a good hour to recuperate after what he does to me, but he's so fired up that he can't wait.
One night when I really wasn't ready, he had to jerk off while the vibrator was going. It was sort of fun to watch, and I was kind of turned on by the time he was finished. I thought that it'd take him an hour to be ready for a third bout, but ten minutes later, he was in me again.
And that time, I had so many orgasms that I was totally wiped out when it was over.
There was nothing I could do but take the vibrator out and go to sleep. I don't know when it was, but at some point during the night I woke up and he was inside me again humping away.
That's the sort of thing that I didn't think I'd like.
After all, sex is a mutual thing and all that.
But much to my surprise, I didn't mind it. I didn't get real turned on, but it was sort of pleasant, so I didn't even let on that I wasn't asleep. I just let him pound away until he finished. He rolled away from me, and I went back to sleep. I even found it nice in an odd way.
And things at the hospital are getting better and better.
We got a new patient in the day after I made my last entry in this, and I thought he was odd right from the beginning. He was only in for a broken leg, so he wasn't going to be all that limited.
In fact, most people don't even get hospitalized for a broken leg, but I guess there were some complications that they wanted to watch, so he was admitted. But then they tend to admit patients over here that they wouldn't in the states. It keeps the census up and justifies all their positions.
Anyway, the odd thing about him was that he was only twenty seven, and he was married to a thirty five year old woman. And she wasn't a particularly well kept thirty five either.
So right from the start, I thought he would be easy pickings unless he had some kind of hangup. I mean, sometimes there are guys with a mother fixation who can only make it with older women.
I hoped that he wasn't going to be one of them.
His name was Steven, and even though he was only a sergeant, we had two empty rooms, so I put him in one all by myself. I knew that if two officer patients came in, he'd have to be moved, but I thought that I'd cross that river when I came to it. Even laying there in a stretcher, he looked pretty good to me.
He had dark blond hair, good features, a small moustache and a rugged, athletic build. And his face had an open, friendly look on it that I liked right away. I wanted him, to put it bluntly.
Well, even I have been known to show prudence on occasion, so I didn't do anything that first day. I wanted to, but I thought that I should get to know him a little better. Sometimes, you even have to be careful about men in the Army, they can be as treacherous as women.
I certainly didn't think that he was that type, but I wanted to make sure. After that incident at Fort Hood, I've at least learned to be more careful if nothing else. After all, this is a good duty station, and they have plenty of bases even here that are out in the boonies.
Now that I've somehow managed to stumble onto a really good thing, I don't want to blow it. While what happened at Fort Hood turned out to be a blessing in disguise, it would be asking too much for that sort of thing to happen again. In the Army; you can luck out once, maybe twice if you're very lucky, but then they Ye bound to really sock it to you.
So when it got quiet on Thursday afternoon, I went down to Steven's room with a glass of fruit juice and a piece of cake that had been left over from a little birthday celebration for one of the nurses in the next ward.
I figured that if I did something nice for him. he'd return the favor.
"I've brought you a little something to break up the afternoon," I told him as I walked into the room.
"Thank you... But why the special attention?" "Steven asked.
"We try to be nice to new patients," I told it. "Then they don't mind what happens later on so much."
"What's that?"
"After a while, we start torturing them late at night."
"Don't the doctors get a little upset with things like that?"
"We never leave any marks."
"I see... When does this sort of thing begin in my case?" Steven asked.
"I don't know.... We never let anyone know in advance."
"You might be surprised... That might be something I could get into."
"So you're the kinky type?"
"No one who goes around torturing people who have broken legs should call anyone else kinky."
"Kinky is as kinky does," I said.
He laughed and took a bite of the cake. I was liking him more and more.
"How do I know that this isn't laced with drugs?" he asked after he swallowed.
"You don't."
"From the sounds of things, this is no ordinary hospital," Steven said, "It's a regular den of iniquity." "And if that's the case, I'll bet that you're one of the ring leaders."
"Chief honcho in charge of sadists, to be exact... And I'm very good at it. "I'll bet you are."
"Anytime you want to find out how good, just let me know," I told him. "Anytime would be fine." I walked back to the door and locked it. The banter between us had been friendly, and I'm sure that he didn't think that I was serious. Well, I wasn't serious about the sadist part, of course; that was something that just seemed like a good idea at the time. I though: it would get things moving in the right direction, and that's exactly what it did. I didn't think that he was going to be any real problem, and I was anxious to get to it. The sooner, the better, I always say.
"In that case, anytime is right now." I said when I got back to his bedside.
There was still a look of disbelief on his face, so I pulled the sheet that was covering him off and sent my hand to his crotch.
Through his pajamas, I could feel the soft.
fleshy mass of his cock, and even though the thing was flaccid, it felt formidable.
"I hope that you understand that my movements are somewhat restricted," he said as he knocked on his cast with his knuckles. "I AM a nurse."
"And a very special one when it comes to tender, loving care." "T-L-C is my forte."
His cock was starting to grow and I rubbed my palm against it.
I unfastened his pajama bottoms and undid the buttons of the fly and spread it apart. Steven's cock was semi-erect, and I returned my hand to it as soon as the thing was exposed. The glans was covered by a thick, veiny foreskin, and I pulled it back. Then I pushed it slowly back and forth as his cock continued to grow. As the thing got bigger and bigger, I saw that I hadn't been wrong in my initial appraisal of his organ. It was way above average in length, and it was even thicker than Jim's.
Steven's cock reached its full proportions with my deft (if I do say so myself!) ministrations, and I began moving my hand faster on the thing. He let out a long sigh and raised his head so that he could see what I was doing. From the look on his face, it was clear that he still was Finding it hard to accept the fact that this was actually happening to him.
"This is really above and beyond the call of duty," he said.
"I like to go all out for my patients... It gives me a sense of use fullness."
"It does more than that for me."
"I hope so."
I stopped moving my hand on his cock and held the skin back; there was a glistening bead of moisture in the hole at the end of his cock, I brought the palm of my other hand to it and spread the slippery fluid over the underside of the glans. Then I made little circles with my hand over the frenum. His cock was straining against my hand with the pleasure I was giving
When the fluid evaporated, I moved my hand to his balls and pressed it into the wrinkled scrotal sac. I could feel his testicles moving around beneath the skin.
"Well, as I see it," I said, "there are two viable alternatives... Either I give you a blow job, or I sit on your cock... Which sounds the best to you?"
"You could always just give me a hand job," he said.
"That's really a little mundane, isn't it?"
"I suppose so... I just wanted to point out a third option, that's all."
"Duly noted."
"But you're right... The first two are far superior."
"So which is it going to be?... You have to make up your mind sometime."
I started moving my hand slowly up and down on his cock again. Every time I went to the top of the thing, I pulled the foreskin all the way over the glans and gave it a squeeze, then I pulled it all the way off to completely expose the head of his cock.
"Is there any reason that we can't do a little of both?" he asked me after a pause.
"No reason at all... We may as well have the best of all possible worlds."
"Thank you, Doctor Pangloss."
I stopped moving my hand on his cock and held it midway down the shaft. Then I bent my mouth over the thing and pressed my lips against the smooth skin of the glans. Slowly, I opened my mouth and lowered it over the head of his cock. I ran my tongue over the taut surface and flicked it back and forth over the underside.
What I was doing was beginning to arouse me, and my pussy was getting all warm and moist. I started moving my lips up and down on his cock, and the warmth that I was feeling in my cunt suffused my entire pelvic region. I felt my nipples become erect, and my clitoris engorged.
As I went faster on him, his cock got even harder. It always amazes me how something that is so soft and pliable most of the time gets as hard as granite with a little stimulation.
And it always turns me on to provide the stimulus that makes such a reaction possible.
As I bobbed up and down on his swollen prick, I began to take more and more of the shaft into my mouth. I moved my hand farther down on it, almost to the base, and I was careful to keep the skin pulled back so that the bared glans maintained contact with my lips.
After a few minutes, I began to follow my mouth with my fingers that were wrapped as far as they'd go around the hard shaft. Every so often, I'd take my mouth all the way off the head of his cock and wrap, my hand around it. Then I'd swivel my palm on the slick glans.
Steven let out one long sigh after the other as I worked on him.
Finally, I brought my mouth off his cock and pushed the foreskin all the way over the glans and held it there. I stuck out my tongue, pushed it between the skin and the head of his cock and ran it around the thing. Steven let out a low moan with the pleasure it gave him.
By that time, more and more fluids were oozing into my cunt. There was one twinge after another in my clit, and my chest was filled with little ripples of pleasure as my erect nipples rubbed against the material of my bra whenever I moved my head.
"God, that's what I really call special treatment," Steven moaned.
I ran my tongue around between his glans and his foreskin one more time, then I looked up at him. "I aim to please," I said to him.
"You certainly succeed."
"Thank you."
I stood up, kicked off my shoes and hitched up my uniform dress so that I could get at the elastic waistband of my pantyhose. As soon as I had it between my thumbs, I pushed the pantyhose over my hips. Then I sat down beside him and pulled them all the way off.
By that time, the fluids were seeping into me at an even greater rate. I felt as wet as a slough, and I was anxious to get that thick pole between Steven's legs immersed in my swampy pussy.
Keeping my dress hitched up at my waist, I climbed over him and straddled his midsection so that my mound was directly over his throbbing cock. I reached down with one hand, wrapped it around the base of his cock and began to lower myself onto the pulsing thing.
When I felt the tip of the glans part my outer labia, I moved his cock to the center of my slit and poised it at the entrance to my wet hole. I dropped myself a bit more, and the head of his prick nudged into me o With another drop, the entire glans was inside, and I removed my hand from around the base of his cock and lowered myself farther.
When I felt our hips connect, I relaxed and sat here for a long moment with his cock buried to the hilt in my warm, moist hole. The way it stretched the membranes of my cunt and pushed against the back wall of the thing heightened my arousal. My juices were flowing even faster now.
I raised my hips so that about half the shaft slid out, then I dropped myself on his cock. I had the feeling that it sank in even deeper this time. I held the thing in me for a long moment, and I adjusted my position so that the dorsal side of his cock pressed more firmly against the top of my slit. That increased the amount of action his cock would give my clit.
I raised myself once more, but this time I went up until only the head of his cock was still inside me. Then I sat down heavily on it. A surge of pleasure ripped through my body as my clit slid against the slippery membranes that surrounded it. I let out a low moan as I went up again and sat down again. The sensations were getting better and better.
I started going up and down on his cock with steady, rhythmic strokes.
"How does that thing feel now," I asked with a throaty voice.
"Christ! That cock is getting hotter and hotter," he said hoarsely.
The more I went up and down on the thing, the more easily it moved inside me. The sensations were increasing in intensity, so I began going faster and faster on the thing.
There was a steady stream of strong stimuli from my clit now, and they were answered by the pleasure that emanated from the walls of my cunt. That pleasure was softer and more delicate than what I was getting from my clitoris, but the two seemed to echo each other.
At that point, Steven brought his hands to my breasts and kneaded them as I raised and lowered myself on him. His touch sent heavy ripples of pleasure cascading through my chest. The sensations combined with those that were flowing from my pelvis, and I sailed higher and higher.
"That cunt really likes what your cock is doing to it," I said breathlessly.
"And that cunt is really making that cock hot!"
I picked up the pace of what I was doing, and I rammed his cock into me with greater force. Our hips were slapping together, and the sound of it ricocheted around the room. Our labored breathing made a sensuous undertone to the slapping sounds, and there was the fainter counterpoint of sloshing as his cock made one fast trip after the other in and out of my slippery hole.
The sensations and pleasures that I was feeling gathered force and pushed me right to the brink of a vast abyss. As I moved with even more determination now, I was floated aver the yawning mouth of the chasm. I was m a high plateau of pleasure, but I knew that I would soon reach my peak.
Then it hit me.
I was thrown headlong over the edge with a blinding flash in my brain. Then there was a spasm in my hot pussy, and a shudder raced through me. My entire body was rigid as the orgasm held me, and it was all I could do to keep from crying out with the ecstasy of it.
The spasms continued, and I heard Steven let out a heavy sigh. Then he made a strangled noise, and his face went into a contortion as his climax was upon him. I kept going on him as my pussy went into one convulsion after another and his hips contracted.
The warmth of his jism filling my cunt heightened my orgasm, and just as the sensations began to fade, Steven moved his hands from my breasts and pulled my hips down on him to stop my movements.
I stayed on his like that with his cock deep inside me until our breathing returned to normal, and his cock started to wilt. Then I lifted myself off him, dressed without a word and continued with my regular duties. There was a warm glow that stayed with me for the rest of the afternoon; work was very pleasant that day.
TUESDAY
July Eighth
God, I'm so tired that I can hardly move.
Over the long Fourth of July weekend, Jim and I went to Amsterdam, and I think that we really outdid ourselves. I mean, having a good time is one thing, but there should be limits. Well, I guess I didn't complain much at the time, so I shouldn't be complaining now.
We took the Trans Europe Express "Das Rheingold" up there on Thursday after work, and we took the same train back early Monday morning. Both of us had arranged to be late for work on Monday, and it was nice that we were able to do that because the train has a dome car and it goes right through the Rhein Valley that Jim first introduced me to.
There wasn't much to see going there because the train doesn't leave Frankfurt until ten thirty at night, but the trip back really was spectacular even if I was so tired that I didn't think I could keep my eyes open half the time.
From the moment that we arrived almost to the moment that we left, it was one non-stop party. There aren't any laws there to make bars and discos shut down at any particular time, so they stay open until all the customers leave.
And that's usually sometime around six in the morning on weekends.
We closed down more than one of the places we went to.
And then after a night of entertainment and dancing, there was still the fucking that had to be done. There was once night when we just collapsed in bed and fell asleep, but just one.
We did some sightseeing in the afternoons, but in that department, Amsterdam is more or less a bore. It's a play city and a sex city, and if you don't like to do either one of those things, then it's a place that you should avoid like the plague.
But then if you don't like either of those things, you should be in an institution.
It is true that the central city is quaint with the canals that ring it in ever greater concentric circles, but quaintness can get old after a while. And at night it's kind of pretty with lights on the sides of the arched bridges of the canals and that sort of thing.
And there is certainly an element of charm in the traditional Dutch architecture of the place with the narrow houses along the cobblestone roads that line the canals.
But charm gets old after a while as well, I think.
We did manage to make it to the Rijts Museus to see the Rembrants and Vermeers, but other than that and the more contemporary museum behind it, there isn't a whole lot of cultural interest to the city. It's one of those places that you'd think would be interesting in that respect, but it isn't.
But it was the Sailor's Quarter just off Dam Square that fascinated me.
"You're going to like this," Jim said to me as we walked past the ornate Grand Hotel Krasnopolski that's on the far side of the wide square.
"Why?"
"Just take my word for it... You'll see why a few blocks farther on."
The Sailor's Quarter is very close to the Zeider Zee, and there aren't any canals there It's about the only part of the downtown area where you don't cross a bridge every block or so.
The streets are extremely narrow, and there isn't a lot of traffic there. For one thing. there's no place to park since if a car parked on the side of the street, it would be impossible for another car to get past it. And it's a lot more interesting to walk through it.
After a few blocks, we turned onto one of the main streets of the quarter, and I saw what Jim was talking about. There were people everywhere, bars everywhere, and it looked like fun.
Then we passed a large plate glass window that had a girl sitting in it.
I stopped dead in my tracks and looked at her. She was pretty even if she was wearing a little too much makeup, and she was wearing a filmy dress that was slit way up her thigh. The dress was draped so that it exposed as much of her legs as possible, and it was cut low to show her breasts, all but the nipple itself.
At first, I didn't know what to think. It just seemed odd.
Then it dawned on me what was going on there.
After all, it is called the Sailor's Quarter, and I know what sailors like to do when they get shore liberty; they like to drink, and they like to fuck, not necessarily in that order.
"Now that's really what I call blatant," I said to Jim.
"Well, it's better than having them on the street like in New York, isn't it?"
"I suppose so... But it just seems like it could be a little more discreet."
"You mean like in Frankfurt?"
"I guess so."
Prostitution is legal in Germany as well, but it's more or less organized and controlled by the government. From what I've heard, there are clubs and houses that are licensed by the city, and it's pretty much limited to those areas although you do see them driving around in their cars looking for a John from time to
They must do rather well at it since the only kind of car that I've ever seen a hooker drive is a Mercedes 220SL, and those aren't exactly cheap. I've always wondered if they fuck in the cars; the idea of it strikes me as being a little on the cramped side.
I'm digressing again. Oh, well...
So we walked along the streets and looked in the windows and generally had a good time But it wasn't until I realized that when you saw one of the windows and there was no girl in it, there was someone inside fucking with the girl. The whole idea of it turned me on.
The more we walked, the more turned on I got.
Every step that I took made me feel better. There was a pleasant sensation between my legs as the velvety outer lips of my cunt slid against each other. The more we walked, the better it got, and the thought of all that semen being spewed into all the girls made me warm and moist.
I felt like I was right in the middle of an orgy.
But it was an orgy that I couldn't see, one that was being played off camera. And that set my imagination off and running. And the images that I saw were probably better than what was actually going on. I mean, doing sex for money with someone that isn't turned on to you can't be a whole lot better for a man than jerking off.
But then I stopped caring what it was like in reality.
What I was seeing was lewd and infused with every lust imaginable. There were couples and groups of every gender combination imaginable. And I wanted to watch and participate in all of it.
"We have to go back to the hotel for a while," I finally told Jim.
"Oh really?... What on earth for?" he asked mockingly.
"You know very well what for."
"I guess I was right about your liking this place."
"You knew damn well what it would do to me, and you'd damn well better be in the mood to do something about it." Jim yawned. "I'm tired," he said artificially, "and I think I feel a headache coming on." "I would be nice if you'd stop acting like a suburban bitch." "All right, you know that I won't disappoint
"You'd better not."
We walked back to the hotel as fast as we could, and by the time that I got my clothes off and was on the bed, I was so hot that I thought I was going to come as soon as he stuck it in me.
But I didn't, and it turned out to be a fabulous session.
Even so, it didn't stop us from going out again later and dancing until dawn. Then there was more sex, and finally, a little sleep. That's the way it was the whole weekend.
THURSDAY
July Seventeenth
"What do you think about the idea of adding another man?" Jim asked me after we were finally finished screwing last Saturday night.
"What do you mean?" "Well, you said that you've had a man screw you in the ass before, and I was just wondering how you'd feel if it was a man inside you instead of the vibrator."
"While you're fucking me in the cunt?"
"Precisely."
I thought about it for a long moment. The idea of it certainly had an element of appeal to it, and if he was asking a question like that, it had to mean that he was interested as well.
"I guess I wouldn't mind giving it a try," I finally said.
"That's the way I was hoping you'd feel," said.
"You mean you have someone in mind? I asked him.
"More or less... But I'd arrange for us all to meet under neutral circumstances so that you could see whether or not you like him and whether or not he likes you... But there isn't much chance of his refusing."
"That sounds like a good way to arrange things."
The more I thought about it, the better it sounded. I wanted to ask Jim more about the person he had in mind and how he knew this guy would be into a thing like that, but somehow, I didn't really think that it was appropriate. If Jim wanted to tell me something, he usually just told me, and if he didn't want to tell me something, asking about it generally didn't do much good.
That's just the sort of person that he is.
It was late, and we'd had a nice evening tha night at a restaurant in Saxenhausen, and I was a little tired from all the things that we'd done after we got home, but I found that the more I thought about what Jim had asked me, the less sleepy I was.
Evidently, it didn't faze Jim, because he turned over and went to sleep. I guess that as far as he was concerned, the matter was settled, and ail that remained to do was to put the plan into operation and see how it worked out. For him, the matter was settled.
But thinking about it brought back the memory of the sex we'd had that night for me and the difference in the way that it would be if it was a cock pushing back and forth in me instead of that vibrator quietly humming away inside me. I was getting more and more intrigued.
Jim always has a way of changing things between us so that there's never a dull moment in bed. And he always seems to know where the right time to do it is. It's not that things are ever dull between us, but it is fun to add something once you're really used to the previous thing.
I'd been surprised the first time that we did it with a dildo up his ass as well as mine. I mean, I didn't think that it would make that big of a difference. It didn't seem to me that I'd get much sensation from it; I knew it would be good for him, and that was enough.
But that was one thing I was really wrong about.
Somehow, the vibrations are transferred. It was hard to believe when he first pushed his cock into me, but as soon as he was all the way in, I felt it, and I took off like a Saturn rocket.
I guess the vibrations are transferred by the pubic bone or something, but as he held that thing inside me, my clitoris went wild. It was like there were a thousand tiny fingers running all over the thing. The sensations were fierce, and I was having one orgasm after the other in no time.
And it made something else possible that I'd thought of before. With vibrators in both of us, it was possible for him to simply put his cock inside me and hold it there until both of us had a blistering orgasm. That was certainly something different, and it was something that had a very special pleasure and intimacy to it.
Without all that thrusting back and forth and the physical exertion of it, there seems to be a higher level of sexual communication. And it's possible to keep your lips locked during the entire ascent. It's really quite nice.
I always thought that I knew a lot about sex, but these days, I'm certainly finding that there's a lot more to know than I ever thought possible. I guess I thought that I was knowledgeable because I'd done a lot of it: but doing the same things a lot doesn't teach you anything. You certainly have more experiences but there's nothing new about it. And where sex is concerned, I want to know all that I possibly can. I've always thought that it should be taught in the schools, but it'll be a long time before that happens.
I count myself lucky that I finally found a good teacher.
I suppose that the subject is really limitless but I'd like to explore every facet of it in as much detail as possible before I'm too old to enjoy it anymore. Although if I'm lucky and keep myself in reasonable shape, there really isn't any reason that I can't go on enjoying it for a long time. From what I've read, age really isn't a barrier. I certainly hope that turns out to be true; I'd hate to stop doing it.
FRIDAY
July Eighteenth
I didn't get a chance to relate the events of last weekend yesterday because I had to get dinner ready. Jim was coming over in an hour, and I figured that I'd better get cracking, We're staying in town again this weekend, and I'm finding that I'm actually beginning to not mind cutting back a bit on the traveling. It gets taxing to go someplace almost every weekend, and it's expensive as well. Both of us make good money, but we're acquiring expensive tastes, and it's easy to spend more on a weekend than you made during the week
There's no future in doing something like that all the time.
And sometimes just a quiet weekend of sharing between the two of us is really nice. Whenever you travel, there's always so much to see and do, and you're always rushing around so much that there isn't a while lot of time for quiet little conversations. And those are important, I think.
But there I go meandering off in another direction again.
Anyway, Jim didn't waste any time in getting me together with his friend Bruce Warren. We met him at a restaurant for dinner the very next night. And I was impressed.
Bruce is a Lieutenant in the Signal Corps and he and Jim work together from time to time. He's younger than both of us, about twenty three or four, I think, and he's extremely good looking. He's got hazel eyes, and his hair is dark. He has a somewhat bushy moustache that sets off his sensuous mouth very nicely. From the moment he first smiled at me, I liked him.
We had a nice dinner, and his conversation was sparkling and witty. And one of the nice things about him was that if he knew why he was there, he didn't show it. There were no innuendoes or double entendres that might have turned the talk to a sexual track. Even though he made it obvious right from the start that he liked me, he did it in nice way.
As we were having coffee, all I had to do was flash my eyes at Jim to let him know that not only did I approve, I was enthusiastic about the whole thing. It's nice when you get to the point in a relationship that there's that kind of non-verbal communication between two people.
We went back to Jim's apartment for a nightcap. and everything progressed easily and casually from that point on. I was surprised that there wasn't at least an awkward moment or two. But Jim has a way of managing things like that, and it just seemed like the most logical thing in the world for the three of us to end up naked on the bed together. For a long time, we simply let our hands roam over each other's bodies. It was all sort of soft and gentle, and there was a nice feeling of mutual sharing about it. I knew things were going to work out And I was certainly pleased to find out that
Bruce had a cock on him that was almost as large as Jim's. In a way, I felt that it was almost too good to be true. I mean, it's rare to find a man with all the qualities that Jim has, but to find another one with almost as many and to be in bed with both of them is like tempting fate; you get the idea that it isn't fair for things to be so good.
I was a little shocked at first when I saw that Jim and Bruce were touching each other as much as they were touching me, but I quickly realized that that attitude is a little out of date.
I guess I thought that I should be the center of attention for both of them.
And God knows that I certainly don't mind touching another woman. It's always a nice change, and I had the idea of asking Jim to try it with us and another woman sometime. But that was neither the time nor the place to bring something like that up.
And after a while, I found that I was actually liking the way things were working out. It was really a menage a trois in the best sense of the word. It wasn't two men taking me, it was three people all giving each other pleasure. The longer it went on, the better I liked it.
After the touching, we went at each other with our mouths.
By that point, it seemed the most natural thing in the world for me to see Jim take Bruce's cock in his mouth as Bruce licked my clit and stuck his tongue into my hole. At the same time, I had Jim's cock in my mouth; I had the sensation that we were all connected in a most delightful way.
And it wasn't just our sexual organs that we explored with our mouths and tongues. We didn't miss anything from the toes to the eyebrows. It was one of the most sensual evenings I've ever had.
And Jim was certainly right about having both of those cocks inside me. It was a lot better to have a thick, throbbing prick in my rectum than that vibrator. Not that I intend to throw away the vibrator, of course.
They were able to match the strokes that they made in and out of me, and I could feel their hard cocks sliding against each other though the thin membranes that separated them.
I knew that the fact they could feel each other as well as me was an additional turn on for them, and since it was making them more excited, it heightened my arousal as well. I rose in a steady crescendo of pleasure as they went faster and faster into me.
By the time that we all came, I was exhausted from the number of fiery orgasms that I'd had. The whole thing proved to be a truly overwhelming experience; the glow of it lasted through the entire next day.
Well, both of them are coming over here for dinner tonight, and I'm sure it will be more of the same. I know that it won't be exactly like the first time, but I know that it will be something special, and I'm looking forward to it.
SUNDAY
July Twentieth
Well, it's one thing for a guest to stay a little too late at a party. But it's something else when Friday's dinner guests don't leave until Sunday evening That really is going a bit too far, I think. It's almost asking too much of a hostess; especially of her body.
Well, I think that that's the way I'm supposed to feel. But I don't. Not even close.
The truth of the matter is that I was sorry to see them go. And I think that the only reason they left was because I just couldn't take any more from a physical standpoint. I wished I'd have been able to, but I was just sexed out, and the body wasn't responding any-longer.
I did everything I could think of to get myself aroused, and God knows that they did everything possible to help me, but there just wasn't anything left. It had all been too much.
That's what happens when a woman really does, in fact, get too much. There just comes a point when there is no longer a response to manipulation. I was sorry about it, but there was nothing that I could do to change it.
I was more than willing, of course, to let them use whatever hole they were interested in to get off, but for some reason that's the sort of thing that just wouldn't work with us.
We've all become so close that one person not getting off on it ruins it for the other two. I suppose that that's nice in a way because it reflects the consideration and empathy that the three of us share, but even now, just an hour after they've gone, I miss both of them terribly.
And I have a pretty good idea where they went.
In a way I feel like checking by calling Jim, but that's really not fair. They needed more, and the best way for them to get it is with each other. It makes sense as far as I'm concerned.
I saw the look that passed between them when they left, and I felt like offering them my bedroom while I just watched television or something. Even though I can't understand it, I'm able now to get an idea of what's going on when I watch. And it helps with learning German.
I guess what I wanted was to sleep with the two of them again.
Both Bruce and Jim have the nicest way of sleeping with someone. They never lose some sort of body contact. If I move or something, there's a leg against mine right away. And usually, one of them would have an arm over me with his hand on the other's shoulder. I can't remember when I've felt so secure as I have these past two nights sleeping between them. It's difficult to explain, but I can feel it at the very center of my being.
When Bruce and Jim first left, and when I realized where they were going and what they were going to do, I had the feeling that I should be a little jealous or something. I didn't like the idea of being left out.
But even though I gave it a try, there was none of that in me.
And the more I think about it, the more I actually like the idea.
I know that seems strange, but there was an intimation from Bruce over the weekend that he'd like to get together with me privately. I didn't make any response, and at first, I dismissed the entire idea. It would seem like being unfaithful to Jim in some odd way.
But the more I think about it, the more I find myself liking the idea. It's sort of the same way I feel about the two of them being together and about Jim and I being together.
There's a relationship between Jim and I and there's obviously a relationship between Jim and Bruce. I don't know any of the details yet, but I'm sure that this isn't the first time that they've done something like that. And I wouldn't be surprised if they've been doing it for a while.
So it just seems logical that there should also be a relationship between Bruce and me. And when all three of us are together, we bring those relationships together, but the sum of them is more than the parts. The three of us together are stronger than any two of us together.
But at the same time, there are unique aspects to each of us with just one of the others. There's a shared intimacy that exists only in that specific pairing, but that intimacy serves to make the group stronger and more cohesive. It's a sort of emotional glue. I wish there were a way that I could explain it better, but there isn't. All I really know is that I like what's happening to us, and I hope that it goes on getting better and better. At this point, Jim seems to be more or less at the helm, and I really think that he'll steer a steady course for us. There are bound to be problems here and there, but I doubt that it'll be anything that we can't resolve. I have a feeling that Jim will see to that.
This is the sort of thing that I never thought would happen to me, and it's possible that I'm projecting it too far into the future and taking too much for granted. After all, it could turn out to be just this one weekend fling. None of us might ever get together again. But I really doubt that that will happen. There's something between us that goes way beyond sex.
It's a kind of chemistry that just doesn't crystallize like this very often. Each of us seems to be a catalyst for the other two, and together our bond is doubly strong for it.
While there's really no way to know what's going to happen, I think that it's going to be good, and I think it's going to be something that we're all going to find very satisfying and rewarding. At any rate, it will be an adventure.
THURSDAY
December Twenty-second
I know that I've really been remiss about this, but there just hasn't been any time. It seems that that's the one thing that's always in short supply, and I have even less of it than ever before.
There are so many things that I should have written about that I feel guilty about not putting them down. I'm sure that there will be a point in my life that this will be an account that I'll treasure. It's documented some of the most important things that have ever happened to me.
I should have written about Bruce and me together.
And I should have written more about what's happened between Jim and me.
I should also have said at least a few things about Bruce and Jim.
I certainly should have written more about the three of us.
But there'll be time for all that at some point, I hope. I think it's something that I want to write a lot about, and I hope I get the chance. I'm even thinking that if I could rewrite parts of this and delete some of the things that. I don't want anyone to know about (except Bruce and Jim, of course... They've read the whole thing), it might make an interesting book. It would be a romance, but different from anything that I've ever read.
We're flying off to the Canary Islands for Christmas and New Year's together, and should be a funs trip. The travel agent thought we were a bit odd when we requested only one room with a king sized bed in it, but I re don't give a damn what other people think anymore.
What's important is what's developed between us.
All three of us know now that we belong together, and we don't have any intention of letting the obsolete sexual mores of the rest of the world stop us from being what we are. The relationship is just too valuable for each of us to worry what other people think about it.
We're trying to come up with a way that we can legally cement what we feel for each other, but that's becoming a little sticky. We've considered Jim and I getting married and adopting Bruce, but that doesn't seem the right answer. It involves an inequality that we don't want or feel even if it is only a legal one.
And we've thought about drawing up some kind of a contact, but that doesn't seem to work either. I don't know all the details, but Jim talked it over with someone who's supposed to know about things like that, and he said it would be very difficult and might not be valid in the first place. But it seems that there must be something that we can do.
Well, I can't worry about that too much now. I've got packing to do, and I'd rather ink about the good time that we're going to have. What with the holidays, the time off from work, and the sunshine, it should be a very nice vacation.
TUESDAY
January Fifth
I really should have gotten to this sooner, but now that the new year is upon me, things have been a little hectic. And being back at work after that wonderful vacation was a little depressing. But then one does what one has to do.
Actually, just being back in Frankfurt is a little depressing.
After all that sunshine and nice weather in the Canaries, coming back to the bleak winter here wasn't exactly exciting. I'd hardly noticed it before we left, but there hasn't really been any sun here since the middle of October. Jim says it's like that every year, and I'm finding it a little tiresome. It's just one gray day after the other.
It seems that the clouds sort of stack up against the Alps, and they stay in place for most of the winter. It really doesn't get that cold here, and there isn't nearly as much snow as I would have expected, but that still doesn't change the dreariness of it.
I really do need to say something about our vacation, but it's the kind of thing that I don't know how to begin. Everything was so delightful about it that I don't know what to mention first.
Well, to be honest, I guess the sex was really the best part.
That's usually the case with me, and I doubt that it's much different with anyone, although there "are a lot of people who don't like to admit it. I mean, if there isn't any sex, or if what there is isn't too swift, it would be difficult to say that one had a good time, wouldn't it?
But this time, we really outdid ourselves.
It was like eating.
Morning, noon and night.
It was like none of us could get enough. And I have to admit that I certainly didn't mind it. I think I could spend the rest of my life like that. If there were a way to make a living and still live that way, I'd jump at it. It would be the best of all possible worlds.
We did spend some time on the beach, and we went sightseeing and all that, but there really isn't that much to see there. But the natural beauty of the place makes up for the lack of diversions. Just to see an hibiscus blooming in December was worth the price of admission.
Now I've gone and done it again!
Just thinking about the trip and what we did has made me all warm and moist. I think that it's getting to be time that the three of us did something about our living arrangements. I really miss Jim and Bruce when they're gone for even a day... Now that I know how wonderful things can be, it's a little disappointing to have to do it by myself. But then it's better than nothing
MONDAY
February Twentieth
DAMN!
I came down with a fucking yeast infection. Well, it didn't mean that we couldn't do anything, but it did mean that the most important hole was out of commission. "In the shop for repairs," was the way that Jim put it.
But then I give a pretty decent blow job, so there was no problem as far as Jim and Bruce were concerned. And Jim has always said that I'm about the best "head" nurse around.
Good knows I've had plenty of practice.
I think that I've finally got it down right.
In any event, that isn't the most important news. The big thing is that at the end of January, the three of us finally decided to move in together, and last week, we found this marvelous old German house just outside the city. We move in the first of March, and I can hardly wait.
Now I'm not going to have to rely on myself so much anymore.
It's been hectic ordering all the things that we're going to need for the house, but it's been kind of fun too. It's work, but it's work with an objective, and the objective is something all of us want.
I really can't wait until we move in. There's going to be even more work then, and I plan to take a week off to get it all done, but I don't think I'm going to mind it that much.
I guess that I'm going through a nest-building phase or something.
Well, it doesn't really matter, because the three of us are finally going to be together. I imagine that we'll all have to make a few adjustments, but that's something that we can handle, I think. All of us want this to work out, and with all three of us pulling for it, I'm sure that it will.
That pesky yeast infection is clearing up rapidly, and I think that next weekend will be a big improvement over this past one. I mean, with the thing all cruddy like that, there really wasn't any way that I could get that turned on. I don't mind just "servicing" Jim and Bruce from time to time, but there comes a point when I really want to get off too.
And it looks like that time is now.
I never thought about writing as an aphrodisiac, but it sure as hell seems to work for me. All I have to do is just mention the idea of having sex with Jim and Bruce, and I get all wet "down there." Now I'm sure that I'm going to be fine by the weekend. We're planning a trip to Milan on the train to see La Scala perform "La Traviata," and I'm looking forward to it.
I just hope I'm able to stay in my seat for the entire performance. Not being too "active" lately might make me lose control and climb onto Jim or Bruce's lap. I don't think the other patrons would approve...
SUNDAY
March Sixteenth
God, I've been so sure that I'm going to do it, but then I don't. I really have to develop a little more discipline.
But there's just been so much to do around here that I haven't had the time.
The house is finally coming together, and so far, we're all very happy about things. I always knew that it would work out, but I didn't expect for things to go this well. Sometimes, it's like all three of us are one person. We seem to think alike on most things.
And I'm finding that I don't even mind the commute that much. It takes us about forty minutes to drive into the city, but we only need to take one car because the hospital is right on the way to the I. G. Farben building where both of them work.
I'm afraid that we've shocked a few of these staunchly middle class Germans when we've been backed up in rush hour traffic, but that's just too bad. There are times when we can't wait until we get home to get started, and it's never bothered me to go down on someone in a car.
And it doesn't bother me if someone can see us once in a while. I mean, it really ought to turn them on to see me giving a blow job in the car next to them, but Jim says that we've totally gotten some strange looks, especially from some of the older women. So be it.
I'm certainly not going to let their antiquated value affect me. It's probably due to the fact that their husbands can't get it up any more. I mean, if you're living with a man who doesn't come across, and you see someone doing something that you can't do, you're bound to be a little jealous, aren't you?
The old biddies are probably too repressed to even diddle themselves.
Well, that's their problem, not mine.
And speaking of diddling myself, that's something that I don't have to worry about any more. With the three of us living together, the thought hardly even occurs to me. They take care of all my needs most admirably. so it's just not a necessary anymore.
The only problem that I can see is the damn Army. They just won't understand us always wanting to be assigned together, but I think it's something we can deal with. I mean, none of us are really that serious about staying in the damn Army forever, so when they try to reassign one of us, that one will quit.
