Europa 12 Peace
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 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. This is the last part of the story.
In the pool, we all relaxed, or at least tried to relax. It is hard to turn your emotions on and off, especially after the excitement of the day's events. It didn't seem possible the war was coming to an end. We were a collection of Frenchmen, Germans and a Jewish Englishman sitting naked in a thermal pool under a mountain. Emile, Fritz, Samuel and I were bilingual, so we were all able to talk and translate for the others.
Samuel told us about life outside our little part of France. I had thought there was nothing left of London after the Blitz. He told me there was lots of damage, but London was still London and so were Paris, Rome, Florence and Venice.
"Paris is the same?" Emile asked.
"Almost untouched." Samuel said. "It needs a good paint job, but it's the same."
"Brussels is in good shape, so is Amsterdam." Fritz said. "I was stationed there. "I don't know if they will be able to rebuild Rotterdam. That didn't look possible." He paused. "I don't know if anything will survive in Germany. I was in Cologne and Frankfurt three months ago. It was hard to believe the destruction. I saw it with my own eyes and still can't believe it. I can't imagine what is left of Berlin or the cities to the east." Fritz was on the edge of crying.
"The destruction isn't over yet. Buzz bombs are still falling on London." Samuel said. "I wandered through the city several months ago. It's cold and damp and there isn't much food, but St. Paul's is still there. It's like a surrealist painting. The Cathedral sits there serene and majestic in the middle of blocks of ruins. Nothing survived except the Cathedral in that part of the city. St. Paul's looks undamaged."
"England and France will at least survive the war. I don't know if Germany will," Emile said. "I don't know what the Russians are planning. The future may not include Germany."
"How could it have happened? Germany was the center of education and culture. Science and art, Mozart, Hayden, Beethoven, Wagner. Nothing but ashes now." Fritz was near tears again. Max and Eric appeared with Evans. They were excited from their attack on the Chateau. They saw us nude in the pool and I never saw men strip so fast.
They explained Obermayer was dead and the Garrison surrendered to the Prefect of Police. The city was liberated. Max recognized Fritz and looked suspiciously at him.
"I thought you were a Nazi agent?" he said. "You were at the party in Dresden."
"I was supposed to be an informer. I thought I was. I just couldn't do it." Fritz said. "I was supposed to watch you and report incriminating conversations to the Gestapo. I was shocked when Jean didn't get the award. His paper was brilliant. I still had faith in the master race, how I could have been so stupid, I don't know."
"Things were good when it was all flags and marching and victories against weak nations. We were so disciplined and obedient, it didn't seem anyone could stand against us." Fritz added.
"Least of all those weak, effete democracies. Who would think England would hold out? When America entered the war, we were doomed." Max interjected.
"When I met Wolfie in Berlin all this didn't seem to be possible. I was French, he was German and we had no problem at all." I said. "We all got along personally and professionally. Of course we were all united by a common love of cock."
"I'm not 100% sure, but I think we all still may be united by a love of cock." Max said, as he launched himself at Fritz's cock. Emile translated the comment into French. Everyone laughed. Everyone also seemed to be inspired by Max's example.
"Is this the time to suck and make up?" Raoul asked with a smile on his face. Hans looked at him. He couldn't understand French, but he seemed to get the drift. Much to my surprise Emile seemed to be taken by Fritz too. Soon everyone in the pool slipped into sexual play. There were no Frenchmen, Germans or Englishmen. only cocks and assholes.
I remembered Fritz was a bottom. I hadn't realized he was an insatiable bottom. It was a good way to make friends. Hans was handsome enough and affable enough to be acceptable to everyone. Samuel, Max and I got together and relived old times. It was strange to have my cock sliding into an ass for the first time in more than a decade.
Robert returned from shepherding his men to the Swiss border. He walked in while I was deep in Samuel's ass. He didn't blink an eye as he joined in the festive orgy. Robert got behind me and worked his cock into my ass as I ploughed Samuel.
Robert was usually shy about fucking, but he wasn't shy at all this time. I was sandwiched between one of my oldest friends and one of my newest. I loved Robert, but the sex had never been that exciting. I liked Samuel, but the sex had always been good, very good.
Robert's cock popped through my sphincter and as it slipped deeper into my ass, it got better. When he was four or five inches in my ass, it became fantastic. By the time his pubic hair touched my ass, I was in heaven. My cock seemed to have directly transferred my excitement to Samuel and somehow I knew Robert was as excited as I was.
Strangely, we all seemed to plateau and then stop. I had that "few seconds before orgasm feeling" for a good three or four minutes. Every inch of my cock had bonded with Samuel's ass and every movement was exquisite. Robert's cock had become a part of my ass. The feelings were so spectacular I couldn't tell if it was my cock, or Robert's which was generating the feelings that all but overwhelmed me.
"I can't hold back anymore!" Robert cried. He pounded wildly, then became still. I felt the sperm shoot into my ass. The force was so great it almost tickled. A second later my balls exploded and I shot off. Samuel moaned as his cum spurted from his cock like a Roman candle. As I ejaculated, my ass twitched and Robert moaned. The triple orgasm wasn't just good, it was a good as it gets. We collapsed on each other exhausted. I didn't want to move. My cock felt good, trapped in Samuel's ass.
Robert was young and didn't lose his erection after his orgasm. He stopped thrusting, but if I moved, he would pump a few times to freshen up his erection. We finally broke apart. Robert and I went to bed together.
The next day we went back to town. The Prefect was in full control and greeted the advancing British troops. Our rntire group was together. Every one of us was back from Switzerland and there had been no casualties from the last days' events. I thought our group was unknown, but the whole town treated us as Resistance heroes. Even stranger, they all thought I was the leader. I was apparently known as M. Le Neanderthal. Wing Commander Evans was with me on the side of the street.
"Evans! You're bloody alive!" a man screamed from a jeep. He jumped out and ran over. "You may not believe it, but I went to your memorial service!" After a few minutes, Evans introduced me to his old friend Archie MacDonald. Archie was almost a caricature of a bluff and hardy Scot. Copper hair, with a bushy beard and barrel chest. He was in army khakis, but he needed a kilt and a sword to be complete.
The day was confused. I was suddenly a member of the town council and I was also asked to go to Paris to meet with the Free French government. Robert had to go to see if he could find his parents, or any members of his family. He hitched a ride with a messenger and vanished.
A week later, MacDonald took Emile and me to Paris. I was to go to the Louvre and meet with some fellow curators and discuss the recovery of looted objects. I also wanted to tell them about my own treasure trove of art objects from German Museums. I was given rooms in the Hotel Georges V. Apparently my fame as a curator-Resistance member had spread as far as Paris. I couldn't figure out how this happened until I remembered Samuel. I was working for him and he alone knew what my group was doing.
I was given a double room, so both Emile and Archie stayed with me. At the Louvre the remains of its staff were trying to figure out where everything was located and if it was hidden, looted or just lost. The Musee de L'homme staff, which occupied another wing of the Louvre was all but gone. They had run an underground printing press and had been betrayed. A representative from the Army wanted me to go with them into Germany to identify and protect art works as the nation fell into Allied hands.
I told the Acting Director of the Louvre about my stores of German art. He felt it was best to keep it quiet until the war was over. If the art was safe in my caves, it might as well stay there. That made sense to me. I didn't get to Germany until 1947. There was too much work to do with our own museums. Because I had German connections and had maintained good relations with several Germans, I was in a good position to help locate looted art in Germany.
I had many long days at the Louvre, as we worked out the problems and figured out approaches to finding stolen art. Samuel ran an office in Switzerland that watched art galleries and dealers who were trying to sell stolen paintings. Samuel seemed to know most of the crooks and con artists. I knew the names of German Curators and historians who could possibly help. My name was known in certain German circles as being able to protect artwork. Emile retained good connections in Paris' underworld. We had saved some of them from the Gestapo. He was a good source of leads as to stolen objects and likely fences. The three of us seemed to cover all the options.
Archie was on leave for two weeks and stayed with us. He was an attractive man and good company, but he created a sexual dry spell for Emile and me. The sex had been great in the cave, but having a third man who was hetrosexual in the room, put a damper on sex during our stay at the Georges V. We were all adult men and perhaps we could have ignored him, but it seemed rude to have sex with him in the room. That all changed when Emile and I walked in on him with a young Naval officer. Archie couldn't have been more embarrassed. Emile resolved the difficult situation by stripping naked and joining them.
I followed suit and the four of us had a good time. The Naval officer, Willem De Groote, was Dutch and found Emile very attractive. I liked Archie and seeing him naked and excited did nothing to reduce that. Archie was well hung, thick and massive. Archie was also a size queen and my cock all but mesmerized him.
It had been a long time since Archie had last had sex and he wanted to make up for the lack. He said he was a top, but he wanted my cock badly. I oiled his cock and he oiled mine. Much to my surprise, Archie opened his ass and opened it wide. I touched my cock head to his hole. Archie shivered in excitement.
"I've never taken a cock as big as yours before." Archie whispered. "I want it, but go slow and take it easy." I pushed forward and Archie's ass offered no resistance. My cock head popped in and my shaft began a slow progress deep into his body.
It turned out Archie not only liked to look at big cocks, once I was fully lodged in his ass, my cock was everything he hoped and expected. He loved it. There was nothing my cock could do he didn't enjoy. My horse cock penetrated into unexplored parts of his body, parts that were virgin. He was in ecstasy and his enthusiasm spread to me. It was a wild sexual romp.
Emile and De Groote got caught up in the play and joined in when they could find an opening. By the time we woke the next morning, we had explored every possibility and configuration of sexual coupling. It was a night of pure sex. None of us were lovers; we were just friends. Each of us was ready, willing and able and there was no baggage to keep us from exploring our bodies and those of our companions.
This was my last night of all-out sex for months. With the end of the war, the men I knew all dispersed to their homes. Robert was gone for three months and my communication with him was sporadic. Telephone and even mail service was erratic. There was a chance his parents were alive, but his Father had been carried off by the Gestapo and his Mother had simply vanished. Robert's sister and brother were in the United States, working as translators at the State Department. They had access to leads as to his parents possible whereabouts. Robert was able to check out some of these, but to no avail.
When I got back home, there was so much work to do; I didn't miss the companionship of my friends for months. Nothing had been done in five years for maintenance and repairs in the town, so there were almost daily breakdowns. There was an outbreak of crime and no one knew what the franc was worth.
I met Robert only briefly after the war. He found his mother in an asylum in Spain. She had suffered a total mental break down. His father was liberated from a concentration camp in Germany. His health was broken, but he felt he had obligations to the family bank and their depositors. Robert was now helping them full time. Robert had always been a responsible man. That was one of the things I liked about him. I knew in his heart he had no option other than to return to his family obligations. There was no way we could resume our relationship.
Max stayed with me. He had no relatives in Germany, at least any he wanted to stay in touch with. He became my valet-assistant. It was nice to have some contact with my life before the war. Max never said it out loud, but he wouldn't leave Wolfie. Wolfie was buried beside my Aunt.
In late 1946 Archie came to see me. I hadn't realized, but Archie was a wealthy man, the son of a Scottish nobleman and he had liked my little town. I t was good to see him. He was good company and we had a nice visit. I showed him the other tunnels and the Stone age paintings. He was impressed.
"This is such a beautiful place." Archie said. "The caves are a treasure. I would love to explore them more."
"Are you interested in stone age paintings?" I asked. "What are you interested in?"
"It's odd. My Grandfather was interested in Stone Age Culture. He did some excavations of early sites in Scotland. He published the work and was apparently much admired at the time. I thought it just boring stuff old guys liked. I've been thinking more about it now and it seems more attractive. Lately though, my primary interest has been modern men's cocks. I seem to be a bit obsessed with them." I laughed.
"That seems fair to me. I share the same interest." I said, "Have you been trying some out?"
"Ever since our roll in the hay at the Georges V, I've been sampling some. I'd played a little in school, you know, boy stuff. It didn't seem to be worth the effort then. Your cock was twice as big as anything I had tried before and at least four times more pleasurable."
"Well, I'm glad I pleased."
"You did a hell lot more than please, Jean." Archie said. "I've never felt anything as good, before or after." he paused. "I was hoping you had liked it too?"
"I did, but I'm not sure I liked it as much as you did."
"Well I was hoping we could try it a few more times and fix that problem." Archie said. "Would you be willing to give it a try?" I said sure, but I was promising nothing beyond some fun in bed.
We did have fun in bed and a lot more. It had been a wild romp at the hotel a year earlier. Archie had been fun and responsive. Somehow this time, Archie all but sucked my cock into his ass. It was one of those rare occasions, when your genitals merge along with your physical sensations. I felt as if my cock belonged to him and I needed his tender ass lining to make me complete.
Archie was a big, bluff, bear of a man, strong and commanding. It was always hard for me to believe such a strong man had an ass so delicate, tender and quivering in excitement. Archie stayed for a week and each night the sensations grew stronger, more exciting and more totally involving. These feelings lasted for the next twenty years. We were happy.