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Tom met Sven Karlsson, a doctoral student from Sweden researching African philosophy when he was in South Africa. Sven was blonde, about 6' 2" and had blue eyes. Tom became close to Sven and supported him through a mental breakdown. Sven had to return to Sweden and Sven's mother invited Tom to visit Sven in Karlstad.
Becoming a Philosopher 8
I looked forward to seeing Sven again as the plane was about to land in Stockholm. I caught a captivating view of a city spread across 14 islands and I could also see the many bridges connecting the islands. The cityscape had a mix of modern and historic architecture, and the colourful buildings stood out. I was on the lookout for iconic landmarks, such as the Royal Palace and Stockholm City Hall, but I missed them.
Sven was at the airport to meet me; he ran to me as soon as I entered the arrivals hall and swept me off my feet, and I'm sure that I have never had a welcome like that before. He kissed me on the lips and held me tightly few a few seconds. He helped carry my bags to the car and then took me on a short tour of Stockholm before hitting the highway to Karlstad. He spoke about his time back in Sweden and the treatment he had after the overdose. He felt that he was doing much better now and that he was finding purpose:
"Tom, you showed me so much of Cape Town and your country, I want to show you some of Sweden. I'll never forget our trip to Lesotho; you opened a new world for me and I want to show you Sweden."
Sven wanted to know how I was, and what I was up to. I told him about Martin and how we had connected once he left. He was glad that Martin and I were seeing more of each other. I also told him about Carlo and his shenanigans with a young wine farmer. Sven suggested that I think of moving out at some point. He immediately stopped himself and apologised and said that he didn't want to interfere.
As we approached the Karlstad, Sven told me that Karlstad was located on the northern shore of Lake Vänern and that this vast expanse of water and the surrounding greenery contributed to the tranquil atmosphere of the area:
"Tom you'll see that the layout of Karlstad is a mix of both modern and traditional Scandinavian architecture. You can see the combination of red and white buildings which is typical of Swedish design. Look out for landmarks like the Karlstad Cathedral and the University. The historic elements give the city a distinctive character...It's a compact city which will allows for easy explanation..
You'll see Tom, it's very different from an African city, the efficiency and cleanliness characteristic of most Swedish cities, but the blend of nature and urban life sets this part of Sweden apart."
Sven and his family lived in a grand double-story house, with a longish driveway leading up to the door. It was painted light yellow and had white trim around the doors and windows.
Sven's mother came out to meet us and hugged me. She was dressed immaculately and was wearing pearls. I met Sven's grandmother in the lounge, and he took me up to my room which was next door to his, and to be honest I would have preferred to share with him. I put my bags down and Sven showed me his room - the good news was that we shared an interleading bathroom. It was a large room which reflected the history of his childhood. There were Star Wars posters on the walls and Lego Star Wars models on the bookshelves, next to the full volume of Harry Potter books. There was a box in the corner of the room filled with Lego and there were a couple of model planes hanging from the ceiling, and I couldn't miss the photograph of him and me taken near a waterfall in Lesotho. It appeared as if he hadn't moved on, in fact, it still looked like a child's room. I wondered how to interpret this. We took a quick shower together before joining Sven's mother and grandmother in the dining room. I was surprised to find out that they had a housekeeper, and that she had prepared the meal. Sven's grandmother wanted to know all about me and my family, eventually, Mrs. Karlsson interrupted and changed the subject. I was tired after so much travel and excused myself.
I brushed my teeth and climbed under the fresh sheets and turned off the lights. Sven came in about twenty minutes later, just as I was dozing off, and asked if he could get into bed with me. He snuggled up behind me and wrapped his arm over my chest. I could feel his erect dick against my arse. He kissed me and I kissed him and said goodnight. I slept deeply that night and so did Sven. He said that it was the best night's sleep since he returned to Sweden.
We got up, both sporting erections, and had a shower together. This time we gently caressed each other. I soaped him up and recalled that terrible time in Cape Town when I had to clean him up in the shower. Sven went down on his knees and took my dick into his mouth and sucked. I pulled him up and went down to take his dick into my mouth and sucked him `til he filled my mouth with his familiar cum, I couldn't help myself and shot without touching my dick.
After breakfast Sven took me to Europe's largest lake: Vänern. It was epic in every sense and Sven told me that the Norse sagas recount a battle on the ice in the 6th century.
The area bustled with activity during the holiday period and there was a lot to do. He told me that there were cruises on the Stella Polaris, which departed from the inner harbour. We opted to skirt part of the lake on hired bikes and search for a suitable sandy bathing area on the shore. Sven was confident and in control, and not as clingy as he was in Cape Town, and I thought that he must be getting better.
We found an excellent spot and laid our towels on the beach; I applied sunscreen to Sven and then he did me. I loved the way he did it, it was always so sensual. We lay soaking up the sun and spoke about Sven's dissertation. Sven's phone rang and it was his mother, his grandmother had a heart attack and she needed him to return home. She made sure to tell him that she was fine and that she had been admitted to the ICU. We got dressed and cycled as fast as we could back to the house.
Sven's mother was already at the hospital and he drove us there. Sven introduced me to his aunt who was in the waiting lounge, and he hugged his mother when she joined us and told her that he was there for her. When Mrs. Karlsson was on her own with me she asked me to keep an eye on Sven during this stressful time. Sven got to see his grandmother for a moment, and this put him at ease. Sven and I ate a toasted sandwich in the cafeteria before returning to his house. His mother wanted to stay at the hospital that night.
Sven looked stressed and his relaxed demeanour from the morning seemed to have disappeared. I needed to help him gain perspective and suggested that we go for a beer at the local pub. Sven took me to the Bishops Arms on the Klarälven River, a British-style pub with over thirty beers on tap. It was a quiet spot where you could talk without raising your voice over the music. I helped Sven to see that things were not too bad and that his grandmother would recover. I also helped him to weigh up the positives to change his worldview. After two draughts and a couple of plates of fries, Sven was calmer and ready for a calming walk along the river.
Sven's house was empty that night, their housekeeper had left, and Sven's aunt was staying at a B&B. Sven suggested that we relax in the jacuzzi on the back porch. He had already stripped down, and my Swedish boy was walking around with his bouncing dick. I left my clothes in the room, collected two beers from the fridge, and joined him in the jacuzzi. We were sitting next to each other with the jets blasting in all directions. Sven leaned over and kissed me and gripped my hardon under the bubbling water. I grabbed his dick and slowly wanked him.
"Please turn the jets lower Sven they're blasting my balls to smithereens."
"Sorry Tom, I'll change the intensity and the direction."
"That's much better Sven. Thanks."
Sven moved closer held me tight and whispered:
"I feel so alone Tom. Thanks for coming and being here with me, you don't know how much this means to me."
"I'm glad I'm here Sven," I said and gave Sven a light kiss.
We got out and dried ourselves off put on track pants and T-shirts and went to sit on the couch in the TV lounge. Sven stuck a DVD into the player to show me old home movies that his mother had compiled. Sven and his older sister were the main subjects, and the movies covered his and his sister's birth, many birthday parties, school concerts, and family holidays. It was fun watching, with Sven providing the English commentary. At one point I hopped up and went to get two more beers and the last bag of crisps. We continued snuggling watching nearly two hours of home movies. We were both tired and we slept in Sven's bed, him spooning me from behind.
The next morning, we showered together, and it was there that we became intimate again, with Sven sucking my dick and me his. We washed and dried each other off. Sven's mother called during breakfast to share the news that his grandmother was out of the woods and doing well. I looked at my phone and there was a message from Carlo:
"Hi, Tom. Hope all is well. Things are fine here. I just wanted you to know that Wynand has moved into the flat. He and his wife had a major fight and he's camping out here with me for a while."
My heart sank when I read the message. I had a feeling that Carlo would make a move while I was away, and I also knew that I couldn't continue to share the apartment with him and that I would need to make other arrangements when I returned home. I shared the news with Sven, and he agreed that I should probably move out.
"Come on Sven, let's visit your grandmother, and then you take me to see more attractions in Karlstad."
Sven's grandmother was much better and joked with Sven, his mother was pleased with her progress. We didn't stay long, and Sven took me to Sandgrund. It was five minutes from the city centre and close to some of Karlstad's other attractions, this astounding art gallery dedicated to the works of Lars Lerin (one of Sweden's most famous artists). His watercolours and oil paintings are displayed as well as his captivating graphic arts and photographs. We had tea at the cafe and enjoyed the breathtaking views of the Klarävern river.
Sven then took me to see Karlstad Cathedral which was built in 1730. The brochure says: "The 65-metre whitewashed tower and its black spire are ever-present on the Karlstad skyline and like the facade, the interior walls are completely white." Sven, the philosopher explained, that this was from Enlightenment ideals that the church should be an expression of reason, morality, and eternity. He pointed out some of the objects inside, the pair of angels at the old altar for example which were carved by Johan Tobias Sergel, and he also showed me the 18th-century oil paintings and the gilded pulpit from the 1790s.
That evening we joined Sven's aunt, mother, and older sister for dinner. I liked his sister Hannah, who was very different from Sven and a lot more confident and dare I say pushy. She was a major in the Swedish army based in Lapland and had returned home to see her grandmother. I told her that we had watched the home movies and that I had got to know a bit about her life. Mrs Karlsson wished that she was around to watch those home movies with us.
Later that night Sven and I sat cross-legged on his bed and planned a short cycling camping trip along Lake Vänern. The weather was good, and the days were long, and it was the ideal time to do a trip like this with my Swedish boy.