Europa

Europa 9

By Bald Hairy Man

Email, bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com

This is an adult story for adults. It is not intended for minors, nor for persons who are offended by alternate lifestyles. 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.

I had joked with Samuel about being an unusual choice to be a "Mata Hari" type spy. Nothing Mata Hari could have done could have been more bizarre than the events of the next two hours. I was the only Frenchman in the group, but I will admit I, or more correctly, my cock, represented the Third Republic well. I had never participated in a sex marathon before, but the General, the Count, Hans and Max all wanted my cock.

All got it. At first I had the image of a French museum director being assaulted by the jack-booted officers of the Third Reich. In reality, I did the assaulting, starting with the Count and ending with Max. The Count was a vocal bottom, who moaned and cried the entire time I was in his ass. I was uncomfortable fucking him at first. He had a tight ass and my cock didn't fit well. I tried to pull back when he winced in pain. but the General wouldn't let me.

"He loves it, Jean." the General said. He was right, even though my cock seemed to hurt the aristocrat. The Count maintained a huge erection. There must have been a connection between the pain and sexual arousal in his mind. By the time my cock was fully lodged in his ass, his erection was magnificent. I don't think I rammed him more than a dozen times before he began to shoot.

The General was next in line. He started with a huge erection. My cock slid into his ass effortlessly and he glowed in pleasure. He must have been working on his stamina. I screwed him for a good ten minutes, then Hans took my place. I had a good erection, but wasn't particularly excited by the men, so it was the ideal situation for a long session. The General's ass was enjoyable, but I felt no urge to shoot. Curiously, Hans seemed to feel the same way. He spent another ten minutes in the General. We traded places. I went five or six minutes before turning it over to Hans for a second session.

I knew Hans was a bottom and wanted my cock in his ass. When the General began to look a bit frayed after the heavy fucking, I popped into Hans' ass. Hans slowed his fucking of the General as I pumped him. I knew how much Hans liked that. He slowed as my cock began to take control of his ass and he soon emptied his load in the General. Hans and the General both moaned in satisfaction. I was sweaty and hot after this and went to the adjoining bath. There I found Wolfie and Max in the shower.

Max bent over and Wolfie removed the flask from his ass. Wolfie offered me a drink and I took a swig, then he popped a glass ampoule for me to sniff, took a snort himself and passed it to Max. It was incredibly potent amyl nitrate. A second later I slid my cock into Max's open hole.

I had the sensation of being safe at home in my own bed. My cock was home in a friendly ass. A few seconds later. I felt Wolfie's cock at my hole and I opened up to let him in. The three of us turned into a single fucking mass. Every movement Wolfie made was directly transmitted through my cock into Max's quivering ass. After a few minutes of coupling, we broke apart to catch our breaths.

The minute Wolfie freed his cock from my ass we knew it was too good to stop so we traded places, I fucked Wolfie as Max screwed me. It was just as good. Max's cock must have grown since the last time we played. It made a direct hit on every sexual nerve in my body. We finally cooled down. Wolfie popped another ampule and I rammed him as he did Max. I began to shake as the pressure for the orgasm began to build.

The Count suddenly appeared, pulled me off Wolfie and sucked my cock. My dick already had been in five men's holes, but that didn't bother the Count at all. I began to ejaculate and not a single drop escaped the Count's greedy mouth. He was like a man in the desert dying of thirst who just found an oasis.

The General arrived and sucked Wolfie's cock as he pulled it from Max's ass. I saw Wolfie was still shooting as the General's mouth enveloped the dripping dick. Neither man seemed to mind the mingling of cock and ass.

We rested for a short while, but I became aroused again. Not just aroused, I was horny as hell. I think there must have been something in the drinks. Everyone had shot off, but erections were rising. Count Philip was next to me. Our eyes met and we kissed. My ass began to twitch and I was overwhelmed with a desire to get a cock into it. The Count must have sensed this, as he stroked his cock to full erection.

He got on his back on the floor and I straddled him, then sat back. He had a big mushroom head which barely fit through my sphincter. The shaft was thick, but tapered at the base. It became more comfortable, the deeper it went. My sphincter clamped tight on the shaft and his cock was trapped in my ass. Philip didn't fuck, he just lay there and moaned in pleasure.

I was undulating and twitching, massaging his cock and my prostate. His cock was in my ass, but I was in charge. It was good for me and for him. It only got better. I relaxed and looked around the room. Max was rough fucking the General and Wolfie was in Hans' ass. The General was crying in pleasure.

I twitched and Philip's cock twitched too and got even harder. It must have occupied another part of my ass and I lost all restraint. I was doing an exotic dance on his cock, wiggling, grinding and thrashing any way I could to get any more feeling from his cock. Philip's eyes glazed and I could feel his cock shooting deep into my ass. I began to shoot, spraying across the room. My sperm landed on Wolfie's back. Wolfie had finished with Hans, so he came over to suck my spewing cock. He sucked me dry, then kissed Philip, sharing my cum. Hans came over and licked my spunk off Wolfie's back. He kissed me and I tasted my own cum on his tongue.

I got home at five in the morning and got a few hours sleep. When I got to the museum another shipment of antiquities arrived from Paris. This shipment was complete with three downed British fighter pilots. It would be a full day.

Thinking back, I realize sex is only sex and no more, but I did feel trust for the Count. I knew Wolfie and the General were all right. I knew they were risking their lives. Several weeks later, I went into Switzerland and went to see Samuel. This was a legal border crossing as I was translating for the Mayor in negotiations with a German-speaking government official in Bern. This was a weak excuse, since most Swiss officials are multi-lingual, but our Gestapo commander had limited understanding of the world.

The Mayor never questioned my activities. He was a cautious man and never committed to either side directly. In his heart, he may have been pro-Vichy, but Vichy was only a memory now. They weren't even pretending to be anything but puppets. The Mayor was fully committed to the welfare of the town and while he wouldn't directly help the Resistance, he was always helpful when it came to protecting the community.

Samuel met me at a museum in Bern. He looked ten years older and I was a bit shocked. He looked shocked too. I saw myself in a mirror and realized we had both aged. I was getting gray and quite thin. I told him of the plot. He thanked me for the information, but had no other reaction.

I told Samuel about the art storage. He already knew about it. This information was transmitted to the Allies and we were out of bounds for bombing.

He gave me all the other news of the war. North Africa and most of Italy were in Allied hands and the war was going badly for the Germans in Russia. France would be liberated next, but no one knew when or how. There were plans for internal uprisings in France, to pull German troops away from the main Allied invasion. We remained the safest escape route from Paris, so no insurrections were planned for our district. Samuel said, the end was in sight.

The tide had turned, the end was inevitable, but the destruction continued without abatement. I had spent years in Germany and knew most to be good people, but they had let the devil have control and they couldn't get power back again. It seemed that they and Germany were doomed. They would pull down most of Europe with them.

Years before I had spent a week at Bayreuth listening to Wagner's Ring. Wagner always struck me as a odd combination of genius and crank. The ring combined sublime music with perverse sex. It worried me that it appealed to Hitler. Gotterdammerung, the Twilight of the Gods, in which the gods destroy their entire world rather than return the ring to its rightful owner, seemed to foretell the ultimate result of the Nazi lust for power.

Everyone knew the final result of the war, but no one knew who would survive it. Some ignored this. Our local Gestapo office became more oppressive. The manpower shortages in Germany made the dragnets for men more thorough. Our local Gestapo toad still dreamed of transfer to Berlin. He didn't know there might not be a Berlin by the time the war was over.

Late Winter 1944

Our situation deteriorated when General Wildebrandt was transferred to the Embassy in Lisbon. His replacement was a martinet, General Obermayer. He was wounded badly on the Russian Front. He was a true believer in Hitler. In nearly constant pain, he seemed to know something wasn't right under Wolfie's command. He hated Wolfie and all the members of the old aristocratic officer corp. There weren't enough arrests and executions. He set out to rectify that situation.

His hatred for Wolfie was greater than his detestation of the French. This worked to our advantage. Obermayer could not speak a word of French, indeed his German was none too good. I was called in all the time to translate. I was a fixture of sorts. My German is perfect and he seemed to forget I was French.

Wolfie wasn't a particularly brave man, but he returned Obermayer's hatred with a vengeance. Wolkfie looked like the perfect Prussian officer and to him the General was lower class trash. He fought Obermayer at every opportunity. Wolfie was never direct, never straightforward. Minor delays and obstructions continually confounded the Generals plans.

The Mayor and the Prefect of Police shared Wolfie's opinion of the new commander. The Prefect was always sly and calculating. I got the impression the Mayor was getting some backbone as the situation deteriorated. He was naturally a verbose man and he began to afflict the General with lengthy meetings. The General had less time to work his evil plans.

The Prefect seemed to know all the informants and double dealers in the city. There were always Gendarmes near the museum and when one of these creatures appeared, they would let us know. We began to get couriers bringing information back into France. I assumed they were bringing instructions for the Resistance about the eventual invasion of France.

My cave containing German art was filling up. The clearance for these shipments came from very high in the German Government and this gave me some protection from both the General and the Gestapo. I could vanish and they assumed I was going to the cave. I let them know it was important I not be followed, since that might give the location away to the French residents. By this time even the Gestapo admitted their agents were known.

The Gestapo were afraid of the district I lived in, so I was left alone there. The streets and alleys were narrow and roof tiles often dislodged when a German passed by.

Samuel notified me Raoul was to return. I had thought the officer was too old to serve with DeGaul, but he was put in charge of Free French activity in our Province. I knew he had wanted a more active role in actual combat. I think Georges made the return more palatable. Raoul brought a younger man with him, a radio operator. For the first time, we would have regular communication with London and the Free French government.

I got to the cave late in the day to see Raoul.

"Jean, I brought a friend for you. His name is Robert." Raoul whispered to me.

"I have a lot of friends already." I said.

"Trust me." he said, "You will love Robert. He is a scholar, he was at Oxford when the war started and was unfit for service. Poor eyesight. He joined DeGaul as soon as he could. Robert is a patriot and scholar. He shares our sexual interests."

"I thought your interest was Georges." I asked. Raoul burst out laughing.

"Yes, I like Georges." he said. "You will like Robert!" We went into the cave. Emile was cooking, Georges and Jules were on watch. The only other man was a stranger. I assumed he was Robert. He looked tall and thin with a newly grown, brown beard. He introduced himself as Robert De Champ, said hello and addressed me as "M. Le Director" with great politeness. In the confusion of the war, I had almost forgotten my rank. Inspite of the war, I still had impressive academic credentials.

He knew all about my work. He had been working with Neolithic stone age finds in England and Scotland. When I got close to him, I realized he was slightly below average height. He was proportioned like a tall man. After a half hour of conversation, we were friends. We shared the same interests, same approach to life and same likes.

He had a speech impediment, due to a cleft palette. It had been repaired well and he also spoke well. The beard disguised the surgery. His parents were from Normandy. He hadn't heard from them since the fall of France. That seemed odd, since there was little fighting in Normandy during the fall. Then I remembered he told me his home was in Normandy. I recalled the Banque DeChamps of Caen and I put one and one together. The Banque DeChamps had an association with the Rothschild family and while the DeChamps were Protestant, that might not be enough to save them.

Georges and Jules returned with another man, Group Captain Evans of the RAF. Evans had been one of the downed pilots shipped with the antiquities from Paris. He had been wounded in the crash and the villagers who saved him had not been able to set his arm correctly. He had escaped to Paris, then sent by Louis to me. His arm was partially paralyzed, so his flying days were over. In Paris he heard a village had been burned and the residents shot or sent to concentration camps for helping downed pilots.

Evans realized it was the village that saved him. Given a choice between piloting a desk in London and fighting the Germans in France, he opted for France. He stayed. He wanted revenge. This concerned me. Revenge can cloud your thinking.

Evans seemed to be attracted to Emile. We never called him anything but Evans, but I had no doubt he was upper class. He had been to Oxford and had been an upper class gentleman before the War. Emile was near the bottom rung of French Society. They were a strange pair.

I suspected Emile and Evans planned to be more active in the liberation of France than DeGaul wanted. I was worried their plans might endanger civilians in the area. Emile told me not to worry. That didn't reassure me at all.

Robert had stared at Evans when he entered. I thought he recognized him, but the look vanished and Emile announced dinner. Emile was a master of creating a diner out of nothing. This was noodles and a mixture of vegetables and greens in butter. We were in a dairy area and butter was still available. It was simple, but tasty and filling.

It was Georges' turn for watch duty. I offered to do it, so he and Raoul could make up for lost time. Outside of the cave was cool, but pleasant. It was a clear, dark night with no moon, so the stars were spectacular. I realized this was the same view prehistoric man saw from the entrance to the cave. They too would have felt the awe of the star filled heavens. I assumed, they had a watchman, although watching for a wild animal was preferable in my mind to watching for Nazis.

I heard a noise from inside the cave. Robert emerged.

"Is it all right if I join you?" he asked.