Europa 6
By Bald Hairy Man
Email, bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com, The Excite address doesn't work any more.
This is an adult story for adults. It is not intended for minors, nor for persons who are offended by alternate life styles. If you are offended, Don't Read the story! There is no effort expended to make this story realistic or depict safe sex practices. This story is a fantasy, not a sex manual.
After exploring the cave we returned to my house for dinner. My Aunt had made a masterpiece of provincial French cooking, remarkably good given the food shortages. She was complimented generously. She beamed with pleasure and then told us she would need to leave for the rest of the week. A dear friend was sick and needed nursing care.
Emile volunteered to drive her to the home. It was five miles away and there were no conveyances other than foot anymore. He would drop his party off at the hotel and then take her to the isolated farm. "It will be a bit crowded in the car, but we can manage."
"Perhaps I could spend the night and get to the Museum with Jean in the morning." Louis suggested. "That would alleviate the overcrowding." I said that arrangement was fine with me, so the men took off in the car with my Aunt.
Louis was excited about the cave. "Many people could hide there." he said. "It would be good in the summer, but in the winter wouldn't the tracks be visible in the snow?"
"Footprints don't last in the mountains." I said. "The west side of that area is subject to strong winds. I went there last January and after fifteen minutes any trace of my footprints had been blown away." Louis looked relieved.
"I wanted to speak with you alone." Louis said. "I have some nonpolitical friends I would like to get to safety. Albert is very political. I am not. My friends are in danger. Some are homosexual, some are Jewish, some are homosexual Jews. I had many friends in the theater and art crowd in Berlin. I don't think anyone here realized the full extent of the danger. The Nazis are beasts."
"I would love to help you, but winning the war is the main objective." I said. "I couldn't endanger the bigger objectives to save individuals." Louis looked at me.
"I understand completely." he said. "My plan is simple. I will use my friends as couriers whenever possible. Albert's thinking is to have Resistance members be the couriers. If they were to be captured, it would be a disaster. My friends are not important people. I would keep them in ignorance of the Resistance and thus they couldn't betray us."
"I guess that makes sense." I agreed, somewhat unwillingly. "It is very dangerous and physically demanding. Do you have friends who can do it?"
"That may be a problem, but I must be strong. I can only select those who can make it." Louis said. "However, let's face it. A Jew or Fag trying to escape from Nazi control is the most natural thing in the world. The border guards know that. No Jew needs to explain himself. They wouldn't expect them to be couriers." We discussed his plan in great detail for the next hour. Louis had planned it very carefully. He was both detailed and imaginative in his approach. We talked late into the night in my darkened house. Electricity was turned off after 11:00.
There was a knocking at the door at midnight. I immediately thought that my luck had run out and the firing squad was waiting. I answered the door. It was Emile. He had dropped off my Aunt and had returned to get Louis.
"I'm glad you came." Louis said. "I have explained our little plan to Jean and he will help us." Emile gave me a bear hug.
"When I saw the cave, I knew it was perfect. I misjudged you, I must apologize." Emile said. "I though you were one of Albert's friends, willing but physically weak. I should have known you were all right when I saw you climbing over the mountain." We talked and I realized that Emile was the co-author of the plan. He had been a strongman in a carnival and bouncer at some not very respectable establishments in Paris. As a homosexual muscleman he had many admirers.
He was driven by a violent loathing of the Nazis and passion for his many lovers. He also thought he was a dead man anyway should the Nazis find him and wanted to save as many of his friends as he could. He had struck me as being sullen and taciturn when I first met him. He was friendly and open now.
We heard rain and wind. There was a downpour. I invited the men to spend the night. They agreed. I took the only candle and led them upstairs to the bedrooms. The house was cool since the spring hadn't been very warm and the house wasn't heated.
I showed them the guest bedroom and the bathroom and then went to my room. I undressed and put my robe on, went to the toilet and washed. Emile entered the bath. He stood behind me, undid my robe and felt for my cock.
"Louis and I were planning to enjoy ourselves tonight." he whispered, "Would you care to join us?" He paused and felt my cock. "Damn you've got a big one!" I was tempted.
"It's really late and I am very tired."
"Don't worry about that." he whispered. "Lou and I will do all the work. I haven't sucked one as big as yours in years. You can sleep and cum. You don't even need to be awake." I thought about telling him I wasn't interested, but his stroking had already made it clear my cock was interested. Before I had a chance to answer, he picked me up and carried me into the guest room. I am not a small man, but it was effortless for him.
A few seconds later I was naked in the bed with both men. Emile and Louis were good friends and they shared my cock. They bickered good naturedly as to who would suck and for how long. They had totally different techniques. Louis deep throated me and used my cock to scratch his tonsils. Emile was almost delicate in the way he tongued my head. I was close several times with each. Finally I popped and Emile drank it down. I fell asleep.
I woke just after dawn, sandwiched between the two men. The house had been dark and they had been at my cock, so I hadn't seen the men naked. I didn't have much sense of what their bodies were like. I was shocked to see how badly I had misjudged them. Dressed, Emile was a dumpy, overweight man, naked he looked like the muscleman Sandow, except for his dark complexion and coat of black hair.
Louis looked like an effete popinjay. Naked, he had a greyhound like slimness, all toned muscles without a suggestion of fat. He was a natural blond with a mat of darker hair on his chest and a stream of hair connecting his chest to his pubic hair. I moved and Emile got up to let me off of the bed. His cock seemed to be all head and balls. He was cut and the purple head looked as if it was the size of a ripe plum. The piss slit all but bisected the head.
I looked at it, dropped to my knees and took the head into my mouth. Even soft I had to open wide. I licked the tip with my tongue then flicked it on the slit. I could taste old precum on it. As I did, the slit parted and I found my tongue deep inside the head in the cum tunnel. I got incredibly excited as my tongue worked its way deep into Emile's cock. I had never done that before, no one had been thick or wide enough to permit my tongue deep into the shaft.
Emile moaned and oozed fresh precum as I explored deeper. Erect his cock was short, but remarkably thick. I found my self trying to force my tongue still deeper into the shaft. Emile liked that too. The tender lining of the tunnel responded to my tongue and we were both getting really excited. He tensed up and I knew he was ready to shoot. I rammed my tongue as deep as I could.
Emile bellowed as he climaxed and I trapped the cum in his cock. I could feel the sperm shooting against the tip of my tongue. I finally pulled back and he immediately filled my mouth with the product of his multiple ejaculations.
This woke up Louis who watched with amusement. I stood up with my mouth filled with cum trying to decide if I should swallow it or spit it out when Louis kissed me. Emile joined in and we shared his sperm.
"I love breakfast in bed." Louis said after we broke apart. "I've always liked kosher food." I understood Emile's hatred of the Nazis.
A month later I had the first guests at the Blue Bear Cave. Emile drove them to the museum. My building had been certified as a depository for works of art. We assumed that Paris would be bombed and my museum in a mountainous area near Switzerland was a safe place. The truck was labeled "Musee de L'Homme". It was filled with crates and boxes.
German soldiers watched every move at first, but Albert had cleverly filled the truck with stone age artifacts. The soldiers opened a few boxes and realized there was no gold or obviously valuable things. I had mentioned the shipment to Wolfie. I was not sure, but I think he guessed there would be some Jewish cargo. He assigned his most slovenly and lazy men. I provided wine for their lunch. They slept the entire afternoon. The men from the Musee all dressed in the same uniforms and it was difficult to tell them apart.
That night I led them over the dark trails to the cave. Much to my surprise there were six men. I had thought there were only three. One of the men had trouble, the mountain was more than he had anticipated, but he made it. He did not complain. Louis had selected his men well.
France, New Years, 1942
I learned in November my parents were killed in the bombing of London. They had been watching for bombers on the roof of their hotel, when it suffered a direct hit. I had thought they were safe in England, but realized there was no safety anywhere in Europe. Samuel sent me a letter and said they were buried in his family's grave yard. DeGaul himself had attended the funeral. "All was done properly." he wrote.
My Aunt took it well. "An honorable death in these times is all you can hope for." she said. The next time I saw Wolfie he told me he was sorry to hear of my parents death. I didn't know how he had found out, but apparently the Free French radio had covered the funeral.
On January 1, I went to the Chateau for an official New Years event. It was a dreary affair with the Mayor and Bishop and local dignitaries exchanging greetings with the General. Everything was very proper, but I knew the Prefect of Police was a member of the Resistance, as was the Treasurer of the Commune.
After translating for the official reception, General Wildebrandt took me aside. He was with one of his boys, Hans. Hans looked quite a bit like Siegfried, a hero straight from a Wagnerian opera. The General had told me Hans was hung like a horse, but didn't have the intelligence of the dumbest farm animal.
"My dear Jean!" the General cried. "I have a chance for you to help save the Culture of the Reich!" I must have looked appalled. He realized his mistake. "I mean to save some works of art. They are German, but they are art. Can you admire art without a Nazi taint?" I nodded. He got closer. "We have lost. The American's are in. The Russian's are in. It is over for us."
"You still seem to be adding victory to victory." I said.
"You remember I was a diplomat." he said. "I said the British would never surrender. Have you been to America? It is vast, untouched by war and all but untouchable. Nothing but factories, raw materials and food. We don't have a single bomber that could touch her. If Churchill had asked for a divine favor of the highest order, he could not have asked for more than Pearl Harbor."
"Wolfie tells me you know all the caves in this area. Are there any suitable for storing works of art?" the General asked. "I have friends in artistic circles in Germany who want to save our art. Not the Nazi shit. We want to save the Durers, the Holbeins. The real art. We figure it would be safe here. Unless Switzerland declares war on us, this is the most out of the way place in Europe." I agreed this was out of the way, but didn't know how to do it and was reluctant.
"My dear Jean. You have perhaps noted that some of our leaders are noted for their rapaciousness. They seem to acquire art from the captured nations. I might be able to help you in some way." the General said.
"And how is that?"
"They don't take it from their fellow officers. I can confiscate the works, but turn it over to your museum. Your museum is a joke among the "Collectors." They have no interest in stone age tools. I will save what I can if you can help me save my treasures." he explained. He began to whisper. "I have access to a truckload of modern works, stolen from Jews in Paris. It is safer here than in Berlin." I said I would do what I could.
"Come to my private rooms for a drink, will you?" he asked. "These receptions make me dry." I followed him to the upper floor. His personal guard had cleared the house of guests and of the Gestapo agent who had been with us earlier. His rooms were sumptuously decorated and warm. There was little heat anywhere in France, but these rooms were toasty. There was champagne on ice and food piled on a table. At first, there were only the three of us.
A few minutes later Wolfie joined us with Max and Otto, my old professor. Otto looked tired and was much thinner than he had been before the war. We embraced warmly. He told me he no longer taught. He couldn't toe the Nazi line, so he was now the registrar of collections for one of the museums in Dresden. To my surprise, the General had been one of his students in Berlin. The General retained the very German awe of learned men and deferred to Otto as a great man.
Otto was afraid for the safety of the art work in his collection and had contacted Wildebrandt to see if he could find a safe place. The General felt that Dresden should be safe, but wouldn't contradict his former professor. Thus the General contacted me. I felt a lot better about the entire arrangement knowing Otto was at the root of it. We had several drinks and we all began to feel a bit more festive. Otto went off to the toilet and the General followed.
I didn't expect them back soon. I knew the Generals approach to sex and could guess what was going on. Wolfie vanished next. I realized my first coupling with the General and Wolfie hadn't been as spontaneous as I had thought. I smiled to myself. Otto looked as if he could use some cheering up and fucking a former student, who was now a General in the Army, might be just what he needed.
Max and Hans obviously were playmates and Hans was hoping the party would end early, so they could go at it. Max winked at me. Hans apparently didn't know I was a member of the club. I could hear Otto in the bedroom, so I knew he was enjoying the General's hospitality. Max stood behind Hans and cupped his basket in his hand. Hans blushed.
"Hans, there's no need to be embarrassed. We're all men here." Max said. "You're a big boy. M. Le Director would be impressed! I'm sure he would admire your big German cock. Whip it out and dazzle him!"
"The general might come back!" Hans said. "He wouldn't like it."
"There is a private place around the corner. Go there." Max commanded. Hans did what he was told and we went behind a tapestry. It wasn't really a room. It was a big bay window which had been cut off from the room by the oversized tapestry. The alcove was big enough for a bench and little else. We were crowded. Max told Hans to get naked and the Nordic god striped in record time. Max was almost as fast and it took a while for me. My bad leg hurt my speed.
There were windows in the room, but the dim light from the moon provided only pale illumination. It was also cool. I felt Max's cock and remembered the good times in Wolfie's country home. Max directed my hand to Hans' crotch and the General had correctly described the soldier's equipment. Max directed Hans' hand to my cock at the same time.
"The General makes Hans fuck him every morning." Max whispered. "Hans is a good soldier and does what he is told, but he has an itch deep in his ass that needs to be scratched."
"I need it scratched so bad, Maxchen!" whined Hans. "You are the only one who has been able to reach it."
"Stroke the director's cock, Hans. Get it hard, so we can both get to that special spot." Max continued. "His is bigger than mine. It will feel wonderful." Max got me to sit on the bench and Hans bent over to suck me. Max oiled his cock and slipped it into Hans' ass. Hans was a big, imposing man with limited intelligence and I expected a quick blow job.
Instead, Hans was almost delicate in the way he licked and caressed my genitals with his tongue. I thought of him as a wine taster savoring a particularly good vintage. I though of Emile and his approach and wondered if this had something to do with being musclemen.
Every time Max's cock hit the special place in Hans' ass, the man shivered and twitched. He was whimpering and I was afraid Max was hurting him. Then I realized the sexual feeling in Hans' ass were almost too intense for him. Max motioned to me to take his place at the soldiers ass.
I was going to oil my cock, but Max told me not to worry. "I shot a big load in there. He's wet enough." he said. Max was right. I was dripping precum and that, combined with Max's sperm, was just right. It was cold, but Hans was warm and his ass was hot. I slipped in to the hilt. Hans gasped.
"He loved it, Do it again!" Max said. I did. I soon found the same spot Max had toyed with. My cock is longer and much thicker than Max's. Hans was a size queen. He shivered violently when the cock head pressed the prostate. He was crying. I pulled all the way out.
"Please! Shove it in again! I can't stand it, but I love it!" Hans said. Hans and I were mismatched. My cock fucked him to distraction. His ass was nice, but didn't really excite me. It felt good and was enjoyable, but I didn't feel driven to have a climax. It was enjoyable enough to keep me hard, but not so enjoyable to induce an ejaculation. For Hans, this was a dream come true.
It was a dream come true for Max too. He later told me he really liked Hans, but he shot off so fast, Hans would jerk off before there was time for a second round and the sex was over. With me there, Max could fuck and shoot, then turn Hans over to me. I would fuck him for twenty or thirty minutes, until Max was ready to go again. Max would renter his lover's ass and get a second chance to pop.
On this night Max got a good ten or twelve minutes in the ass on the second fuck before he shot off. Much to my surprise, I wanted another round, and I had a slow and beautiful fuck. Hans was worn out by then and was almost asleep. He still twitched when my head rubbed him the right way. There was no resistance in his ass as my cock glided in and out on the sea of Max's cum.
There was a slight noise on the other side of the tapestry.
"The General must be in bed." someone said. "He might as well sleep. He will be on his way to Berlin in a week. We can then start the round up, without obstruction."
"The Labor Ministry will be pleased." the other voice said. "Quite frankly, I don't approve of the policy. Good German labor will do more in a day than conscripted labor will do in a week." I recognized the voice. It was a minor Gestapo functionary and his flunky. There was some noise on the other side of the room. "The microphone is working again." the flunky said. They quietly left the room. I suddenly recognized the other voice. It was Jules Davoud, he was the radio operator at the Gendarmerie and a collaborator.
I felt a shiver come over me. I was frightened. The Nazis were planning deportations. I also was cumming. I couldn't believe that. At least now I knew, you could fuck a Germans soldier while collecting secret intelligence and have an orgasm without making a sound. I wondered if Mata Hari even came close to doing that! There was work to do.