CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The next
couple of months were tough. The winter break wasn’t over so there wasn’t much
opportunity to expend energy in training. The first team were on a working
vacation in
When the
season renewed I was back to playing with the reserves. It was difficult to
concentrate and I also had an ankle knack that wasn’t healing quickly, which
limited my playing time. There only good thing that came out of that was
spending more time in physical therapy, though even that involved a weird
incident I’m not even sure I want to write about.
I was
getting massages two or three times a week, so it was inevitable that I ended
getting Milena Szabo to work on me again. The first time nothing happened;
Milena, who I had found out was Hungarian, got the knots out my back and legs
and ‘rolfed’ my weak ankle. If she noticed the slight stirring in my loins she
ignored. In fact, during the whole session she didn’t say a word.
A couple
of weeks later I went into PT in the late afternoon. Milena and a dark-haired
man were doing paperwork in the office area in the corner of the therapy room.
Both were wearing starched white medical jackets. I noticed the man’s
nametag—Gustaf Szabo—and made a comment about that.
“I am
Milena’s husband,” he explained in careful English. The couple spoke rapid-fire
to each other, in Magyar or Hungarian I suppose, and then I was led by Mrs.
Szabo behind one of the partitions.
I lay on
my front, wearing just a pair of training shorts, and Milena’s strong hands
kneaded by shoulders and neck, then moving down my back and stretching it out.
Her fingers probed deep into my muscle mass and I felt myself relaxing, almost
drifting off. Unlike the previous massage, on this day Milena was much more
talkative. She asked which part of
I rolled
over onto my back. Milena leaned over me and massaged my shoulders again and
then my pecs. I could see beneath the crisp smock, a yellow blouse and behind
that a white bra. As she worked my body her breasts swelled in the tight cups.
Milena
then started working on my feet, stretching my toes. She was still leaning down
and looking between my legs I stared in the crevice of her cleavage. She kept
talking, looking up at me and surely aware I was looking at the valley between
her breasts.
I asked
her how long she had been married. She nattered on about meeting her husband
during her professional training, how they were both refugees from
“Haben Sie
eine Freundin noch gefunden?” she asked. Had I found a girlfriend? I didn’t
want to get into the whole saga with Beate.
“Ja… Aber
ich habe sie verloren.” Yes, but I lost her.
“Es tu ich
leid für Sie.” Milena said she was sorry for me and cupped my balls. I could
feel her weighing then in the palm of her small but strong hand, pressing them
together not hard but firmly.
“English
you should teach me…” she observed. Her fingers had grasped the root of my
hardening penis and the ball of her thumb pressed into the dimple at the base
on my pubic bone.
“If
English I have work other place I can go…” Milena continued. She released by
gonads and pulled down the waist band of my shorts, exposing my hardening
prick. She looked at wantingly.
“I should
try to teach you English I said.” Milena’s lips wrapped around the head of my
cock. I could feel her sharp teeth gripping the base of the mushroom shaped
head. Her eyes were open and staring at me, and then flicked toward the opening
of the cubicle.
“The
grammar and work order in English is different from German,” I observed as
Milena’s oral ministrations made me fully erect. “So instead of ‘English you
should teach me’ it would have been more correct to say ‘You should teach me
English’. And instead of ‘If English I have work other places I can go’ you
could say…” I paused as her tongue twirled on the sensitive flesh of my
pee-hole, “something like, ‘If I knew English I could work in other places’.”
Milena
released my prick from her mouth. Her hand continued to stroke the base up and
down.
“Help me
please. So much rules languages I have in my learning. It is…” She was looking
intently at the drops of fluid emanating from the tip of head and smiled. Her
hand continued to stroke the base of my cock. “If is… Verwirren… that is the
word in German. My head is full of tongues.”
She
smirked and used one of them to lick the drips oozing from me.
“It’s
difficult to keep so many languages straight,” I prattled on. The blowjob
Milena was giving me was different. Her mouth only engulfed the head, gripping
it firmly between her lips and teeth, and letting her tongue swirl over the
bulbous head. “I think ‘Verwirren’ is confusing, or mixed up. What other
languages do you speak?”
Milena
released my prick from her mouth, and started stroking it fast. She took a deep
breath. “I speak Hungarian, French and German. And English. My husband Gustaf
speaks only German, and a little Hungarian that I have taught him. You can say
anything you want and he will not understand. Keep your voice normal, and just
talk.”
She
engulfed the head of my prick. I was initially shocked and speechless. Milena
glared at me. I started speaking the first thing that came into my head… The
Pledge of Allegiance. Milena started working harder on my erection, using her
mouth while still stroking the base which she had firmly clasped in her hand.
My balls began to ache.
I was
about halfway through when she released me again. “Please, you must finish
quick. He will become suspicious if we are here too long. Also, I would like to
taste you in my mouth.”
She winked
and went down on me. I felt the sharp edges of her teeth on the sensitive
underside of my prick-head. Her hand was moving up and down the length of my
prick like a pile-driver. Come was swelling up. I reached the end of the
pledge. I noticed her English had improved markedly.
“It is
almost time,” Milena said, breathing slowly and deeply. “You have the biggest
penis I have ever sucked. Now I want to see how much semen you can put in my
mouth. I want you to explode. But you must keep talking.”
“We hold
these truths self-evident…” I began again. I tried to thrust more of erection
into Milena’s mouth, but her head bobbed upward so only the head entered. I
could feel my climax nearing, and so did the Hungarian. Her hand speeded up,
masturbating me faster, while her tongue and lips pulsed over the radiant head
of my prick. The first shot spattered into her mouth, followed by three or four
other globs. I could see Milena’s swallow each explosion.
Milena
continued to suck and milk the last drops from my softening penis. Finally she
released me from her mouth. She used a towel to clean me. She also called for
her husband to bring some bandages. He came into the cubicle just as she pulled
up my shorts and covered my groin. Professionally she wrapped my weak ankle
while her husband admired her work.
* * *
After that
I came to hope that I would be assigned to Milena’s care when I needed
physiotherapy. Unfortunately there was never any guarantee that I would Milena,
or even that she’d be in the mood for some of her special “therapy.” She did
give me head another time.
We’d been
talking in German and English and she coming to the end of working over my
body. Then she pulled from under her towels a book, a novel in English. “Lesen
Sie dieses,” she said and opened the book randomly.
I read it
out loud, in a conversational tone, while Milena gobbled up my limp prick.
After reading a paragraph she broke free and asked me whether I’d read the
author and if he was famous. When I started to answer she started sucking on my
now-hard dick. This went on for three or four minutes. I would read or say
something for twenty or thirty seconds while Milena worked by hard-on with her
mouth. Then she catch her breath by saying something inconsequentially in
normal flat voice, pumping my erection while she did so, before capturing the
head in her cheeks.
She would
never let me insert more than the swollen head. She would nip its tender
underside with her small sharp teeth, while her fleshy tongue swirled and
probed the rounded sphere and pee-hole. When I came I felt it flush to the back
of her throat. It was an unique technique, concentration her oral skills to
only the tip.
* * *
I said
something weird happened. I guess it was pretty strange that physiotherapy
would include getting blowjobs from a married masseuse. I had queried my
roommate Frank, in a roundabout way, if anyone else were getting such oral
favors but he just shook his head. But the weirdest thing was the third time I
got head.
It was two
or three weeks later and late one afternoon. There were three masseuses—Milena,
her husband, and this Greek-looking woman—when I came in with a teammate. The
Greek woman took my companion while Milena seemed to get into an argument with
Gustaf. Eventually she broke the discussion off, though she seemed reluctant.
As she
turned to me I saw her face was bruised, like she’d been slammed into a wall.
“Kommen Sie,” she ordered.
In the
booth I asked her what happened.
“He hit
me…”
“Who”
“Da
Schwule.”
Before I
could ask who that faggot was Milena opened her smock, pulled back the cup of
her bra, and squeezed a nipple into my mouth. This was the first of many
surprises: for the first time I was touching her sexually. I sucked and nipped
her teat and felt her nipple harden in my mouth. Already she was rubbing my
crotch, making me hard.
She was
talking in German about the last soccer game she had seen the seniors play.
They had lost 2-0 at home the last weekend. My cock was now released from my
shorts and she was stroking the foreskin over the head. Her nipple was bursting
and I pulled my attention to its lonelier twin, pulling back the light-blue
nylon cup with my teeth before pressing it between my lips.
I felt her
thigh with one hand, on top of her skirt. She spread her legs slightly inviting
me. Soon I was rubbing the crotch of her panties, and started talking nonsense
in English when my touch caused her gasp. She pulled aside her panties and I
stroked the puffy lips of her sex. With one hand still stroking my erection
Milena started to rub her clit with the other while I probed between her labia
with my index finger. She started rocking against me, harder and harder, while
stroking her clit faster until she orgasmed in a sharp exhalation.
I removed
my finger from her cunt. It glistened from her wetness. I sucked it dried and
felt her taste, salty and tangy, on my taste buds.
“That was
nice,” she said, rearranging her clothes. She was slightly sweaty and picked up
a towel to wipe her face and moistened hand. She pulled backed strands of thin
black hair from her face. She looked down at my prostrate body, and then placed
her mouth over my prick.
In seconds
she had me fully hard again and her tongue was whirring around the purple dome.
I thrust my hips upward, trying to force her to take more of my meat, but
Milena recoiled. I ran my fingers through her hair and tried to force her to
take more of my length. She broke free.
“Keep
talking in a normal voice,” she said. She placed the soiled towel over my face.
“Yon itt,” she called out.
I couldn’t
see anything but could feel her hot breath course against my swollen cock
before being swallowed into her hot moist mouth. Milena was a tongue queen,
using her oral muscle to coax drops of pre-come. She broke free and said
something rapid fire in a language I didn’t understand and then toyed with the
dome of my cock again. I started reciting something in English so it would
appear that we were having a conversation.
After
thirty seconds, with me feeling the first tinges of climax, she released by cock
and started speaking again, this time in German. Then I felt the head of my
cock in the hot moist cavern of her mouth. For the first time more than just
the bulbous head penetrated. I could feel tight lips embracing the
circumference half-way down the length of my hardness and started pumping
up-and-down. I reciprocated and started humping back and felt the mouth sync
into my urgent rhythm. After just three or four thrusts I exploded,
instinctively thrusting against the mouth that refused to let my prick go.
Even after
my spasms subsided I felt the suction on my cock. I could feel the swelling
dying while at the same time the urge to harden up. Milena lifted the towel
from my face and leaned over and brushed her lips against mine.
Then is
dawned on me. Who was sucking my cock?
Startled I
looked down. Gustaf pulled his mouth off my cock and spat my come over my
torso. He started shouting at me in a harsh dialect, laughing at the same time.
Then he stormed off, with Milena trailing behind.
* * *
Shit. I
didn’t know what to think. What was this guy’s problem?
I mean I
had gotten head from Milena, who was his wife, but this was a weird way to
exact revenge. Plus it had all these ramifications about my own sexuality. I
man had given me a blowjob—did that mean I was gay? I didn’t know it was
Gustaf… I knew from previous experience that most of the work had been done by
Milena, and if I had known would I still have come?
It took a
while for me to get my bearings.
A couple of
days later I asked Frank about a couple of things Milena had said—“Yon itt” and
“Schwule.” He had no idea what the first word of phrase meant, but then he felt
out the translation for the second.
“Schwule…”
he mused. “It is a man who like other man.”
“Like a
queer?”
“Queer?”
“A
homosexual.”
“Yes a
homo… Did someone call you that?”
“No, I
just heard some woman call her husband that.”
Frank just
laughed.