Europa 4
By Bald Hairy Man
Email, bldhrymn@excite.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.
The party at Professor Schmidt's house became quite festive once everyone had apologized and the apologies were accepted. I did not feel wronged and so I could be very generous in my protestations that it was all right for me. Part of the problem was the German sense of propriety. I knew the Germans were very competitive. They wanted to be the best scholars in the world. Some knew you couldn't do that if you only won rigged competitions.
Bruno, the Italian archaeologist, was living in an archaeologist dream. Il Duce was pouring money into excavations and reconstruction. Bruno was a reasonable man and I don't think he was a fascist. I wondered how I would react if I were confronted by the dream job of a lifetime, offered to me by a dictator I despised. Hans van der Luft, the Dutch archaeologist and I had no need to worry about that. I had a brief vision of the President of France, or Queen Wilhelmina in military garb addressing a great throng of jackbooted followers and I knew we were safe.
We began to discuss the concept of the "master race" and had considerable fun at Herr Hitler's expense. This conversation was greatly enhanced by the professor's generous approach to drink. Bruno claimed to be the ultimate Italian, short, swarthy, hairy and horny. We agreed Wolfie looked like the perfect German. He claimed to have the Grossdeutcherdick, the prefect cock for the Gross Deutches Reich.
"I have heard that Herr Hitler has a dicklet and only has one ball." Van der Luft said. "Some say he may be trying to conquer the world to find his missing ball!" There was general laughter.
"Would the world be a better place if Hitler had Wolfie's cock?" Professor Schmidt asked. "What if our dictator had Jean's meat?" There was another outbreak of laughter.
"I know our friend Jean is merely a degenerate Frenchman, but he has Le Grande Cocque Francaise!" Wolfie said almost choking in laughter. "I'd rather be fucked by a mere Frenchman with a donkey dong, than a mini-dicked, mono-balled dictator."
"We in the Netherlands are modest and small, but I can assure you if there is a hole in a dike near me, I will fuck it closed, not plug it with my finger!" Hans added. "Dutch dicks do dikes! The "master race" may be made of supermen, but give me super cocks!" To illustrate his point, Hans unbuttoned his pants and exposed his cock. It was an anatomical wonder. It must have flopped halfway to his knees.
"That looks like something Mae West could use as a boa!" Bruno exclaimed.
"She should be so lucky!" Wolfie said. "Shit, I should be so lucky!" Everyone laughed.
"Well. If anyone wants to play leaking dike, I am willing to plug them." Hans said. At that moment Max appeared, completely naked except for a formal bow tie. He must have been working out, because he looked more muscular than he had ten years earlier, but was just as hairy.
"Let me be first in line!" he said. Two seconds later it seemed as if everyone in the room was naked and sucking. The room exploded into sex. I found Bruno sucking my cock while I sucked the Professor's cock. Otto was a leaker and I had thought often about his dick dribbling its creamy man juice. If anything, it had grown creamier and richer as he aged. With one taste, it seemed as if ten years apart had vanished.
Bruno was a cock hound. I had heard Mediterranean men were macho and hard to entice into homosexual play. Bruno spent the next several hours on his hands and knees sucking any cock within range. He loved cock, but was happy serving rather than being served.
The shy and unassuming Dutchman, Hans, was anything but shy when he was nude and erect. He was the cockmaster, picking his partners for his pleasure. He said straight out he had no interest in the feelings of his partners. He wanted to exercise his cock and anyone who wanted to try it, would have to take what he could get.
With Hans' monster cock, he was accustomed to picking and choosing his partners and doing what he wanted. I have no interest in sado-masochistic games, but that wasn't what Hans wanted either. Hans wanted to fuck ass at full speed. Nothing soft and caring, just man fucking. Max wanted that too. They put on a good show.
Not only was Hans huge, he had the opposite of a hair trigger. He stayed hard, but had no drive to shoot. He said he was a local, not an express train. "If you take a ride, it's going to be a long one." Hans said. Max lasted fifteen minutes before he was exhausted at the rigorous shafting and he got off.
Much to my surprise, Otto was next in line. In my experience the old professor was a top, but he got on his back and opened his ass wide for Hans. After a while Hans needed a rest and he signaled to me to replace him. He pulled out and I slid in Otto's quivering hole. At first it was odd to have my cock in my former professor's warm ass. He had fucked me many times and there was an odd sense of impropriety. This was a turn on. I realized I was living the student's fantasy, fucking his professor. Otto moaned in pleasure and we enjoyed it.
By now Bruno was sucking Samuel, and wiggling his ass in the air. The Italian had spread his cheeks, so his pink ass hole with its little rosebud could be seen in the mass of swirling black hair covering his ass. Wolfie saw it too. He popped his cock in the hole and he and Samuel kissed as they fucked Bruno from opposite ends.
I watched them and soon realized it was a mistake. I can control my orgasms as long as I work at it. When I feel as if I am going to shoot, I can slow down and hold it off. Every time I get near to shooting and hold back, makes it harder to get to the point of shooting again, so I build up a load of cum that can't get released. It's a spectacular feeling to have a full load trapped in your balls. My ultra sensitive cock gets almost raw it is so stimulated, but I still don't reach the point of ejaculating. I love the feeling you get a second before you shoot and had found ways to make it last for minutes.
Watching Wolfie, Bruno and Samuel made me loose my concentration and I shot off. I pulled out of Otto's ass a second before and ejaculated sperm ten feet across the room. Max and von Altenburg were watching and applauded. I was spent, but Otto rolled me over into the 69 position and began to suck me. I was too tired to suck him, but I did lick his dripping cock. That was enough to turn me on again and discovered I wasn't too tired. We sucked until we could shoot again.
I must have fallen asleep around two in the morning. At dawn I woke and found Otto and Von Altenburg in bed with me. . I could hear Samuel moaning in another room. He was on Hans' cock and was obviously enjoying his ride. When I moved, Otto responded by working his cock into my ass.
I remembered the "lesson" in Wolfie's country house. Otto's dick massaged my ass and prostate. It was a massage, rather than being fucked. When he got too close to shooting, he turned me over to Altenburg, who slipped into my tender hole. It was both friendly and erotic. The sex had been non-stop, as if this was our last chance, as if there was no tomorrow. I said this to Otto.
"I don't know if there is a tomorrow. I have little hope." Otto said. "In a century of hard work Germany created a brilliant university system and had a spectacular cultural flowering. Beethoven, Wager, Bruckner, Strauss composed. German physicists, archaeologists, and science seemed to dazzle the world. In four years almost nothing is left. How could one small man destroy so much?"
"Hitler may pass." Altenburg said. He caressed my prostate with his cock. "It may not be that bad. People will come to their senses."
"You are an optimist." Otto replied. I think it could take a century to recover what we have lost. I think no one will come to their senses until it is too late." I was going to say something, but was feeling so mellow I just relaxed and let the two men enjoy my ass. a half hour later Altenburg popped and I shot. Otto took my load.
I had to get back to France and I left that morning. It had been an odd visit. I was worried for my friends, I sensed they were in danger. I also had experienced the most intense sexual feelings in a decade. Ecstasy mixed with anxiety is a peculiar feeling. I never guessed this would be typical of my future life experiences.
France 1941
It was hard to believe the entire military might of the French Republic could crumble and collapse in the short period following the Nazi invasions of Belgium and the Netherlands. I wouldn't say my respect for the government was as great as some thought, but in my most cynical moments I couldn't have believed France could have collapsed so totally.
My Department was untouched directly by the war, but was assigned to the German zone of occupation. An automobile accident a year earlier had left me lame and unfit for service in the army, so when the Germans arrived, I was one of the few able bodied men in the community. I was also the Acting Director of the local museum. Like my father, M. Adam was on active duty and we didn't know if he had been captured or escaped.
The Mayor, M. Auguste, Bishop DesJardins, and I were selected as a reception committee to meet our occupiers as they entered the city. My German language skills were needed, which is why I was selected to be a part of this distinguished group. We met the Germans on the edge of the city and officially surrendered the city. An hour later, they were ensconced at the Hotel Metropolitan, the best hotel in town.
We surrendered to the vanguard of the occupying troops. A junior officer told me to report to the Hotel at nine the next morning, to work out the details of the civil administration. I arrived at the hotel and was taken to the Royal Suite. The Royal Suite was by no means as grand as it's name, but it was the best the hotel had to offer.
An intimidating officer entered the room. He was almost a cinema's version of a German officer and it took me a few seconds to realize it was Wolfie. He was now a major in the Wermacht. I was speechless as the junior officer who brought me there was dismissed.
"Jean, it is so good to see you." Wolfie said warmly after the corporal left the room. "Even under these difficult circumstances, it is good."
"How did you end up here?" I asked.
"It's awful at home. At least I don't need to kill anyone in the Civil Administration office." he said.
"You are in charge?" I asked.
"Officially." he answered. "The army still has some authority. The Nazi operatives and the Gestapo are the true power in Germany today. I am here on good behavior. I don't think they trust me, or some other members of the officer corps for that matter, but we all seem to suffer from our Prussian upbringing. We all obey."
"I wish that I could be so pleased to see you." I said.
"I don't think it is a good idea for anyone to know we are friends." Wolfie said. "If you can help me, I can help you."
"I could never betray France." I said.
"Nor could I betray my homeland, but I won't be a party to evil. The Nazi's are scum, filth." Wolfie said. "I am little more than a figurehead here. The Gestapo give me orders. I am officially in charge. Where I can help, I will. I can at least give you advance information."
"What is their plan for us?" I asked.
"Some of them are mad dogs. There is no way to tell." Wolfie said. "I'm not trusted, they don't like the sons of the aristocracy. I do hear things and I command the troops. They can't do much without me." Wolfie smiled. "I have developed a reputation of indolence. I am here because the area has no real significance. It is an ideal place for a lazy bastard like me! Don't let anyone know you know me. As a translator you are invaluable, no one will think anything of your coming here."
"Who is in charge?"
"Tuefelman is the Gestapo officer for this region. I think he is a sadist. He had a horrible reputation in Berlin."
"You knew him?
"Only by reputation. I was never interested in the Sado-masochist games some liked. Max knew him and didn't like him."
"Where is Max?" I asked. Wolfie laughed.
"He is still my servant. Officers live well in the new Germany. It is a lot better to be doing an old friend's laundry than to be fighting in Poland." Wolfie replied.
"There doesn't seem to have been that much fighting for any of you." I said with some bitterness in my voice.
"I'm afraid for Germany. I don't think the Brits will give up and where the British are the Americans will be." Wolfie said. "The Nazis are monsters. The British would never accept them. You need to go before the spies get suspicious. Max will contact you if I need to talk." We shook hands and I left.
For the first several months little changed. There were shortages of almost everything, but we were in a rural area with many farms. My father had not been found yet. He apparently wasn't a prisoner of war, but they hadn't found his body either. My mother was brave, but lost a lot of weight. My Aunt Elise came from Paris to stay with us and take care of my mother.
I ran the museum and served as the town translator for both the French and the Germans. Curiously, the Germans seemed to regard me as a neutral conduit of language, not a real person. This proved to be very advantageous for the town and me. I received a letter at the Museum from a Swiss man, Herr S. Westburg, informing me a friend of his had seen my father in London wearing the cross of Loraine.
He was alive and with DeGaul. My mother stopped dying. My Aunt felt she should join him. She reasoned that if my father was with DeGaul there might be reprisals and my mother would be better off in London, or at least Switzerland. I went to see Wolfie and he made out the correct papers. He told me my Aunt was a perceptive woman. As I left, he asked if there were any Jews in the town. I, of course, said no.
"That is very lucky for them." he said. Wolfie was clever. I knew exactly what he meant. That night, my Aunt and mother called on Dr. Dreyfuss and had them move into a vacant farm we owned a few kilometers from town. I went to their son's apartment and got him into the attic of the museum until I could find a safe place.
The museum was still open to the public and it wasn't an ideal hiding place. I had spent much of the last decade looking for cave paintings and I realized that I had a near complete knowledge of the underground geology of the area. For years I was annoyed no one would join me on my rambles. Suddenly I realized this was near miraculous good fortune.
I moved Louis Dreyfuss to the Blue Bear Cave. It was big, complex and hidden from view. It was also completely unknown. I left him there with a week of food, returned to town and destroyed my notes about the caves. Ten years of research went up in smoke.
Wolfie had given me transit papers for two people, my aunt and mother, but it did not mention their names or sex. Dr. and Mme Dreyfus used them. My mother crossed at a cousin's farm on the Swiss border. Much to my surprise my aunt returned and did not escape. She told me women could do things that men can't in wartime.
Louis got out a week later using the same farm. I wrote Herr Westburg to tell him of a package coming his way. A month later I learned my Mother and Louis were in London.
Max had become a messenger. Wolfie was very suspect, but respectable, so they used him as a front man when they needed a presentable man to represent Germany. In a stunning failure, the Gestapo never found out Wolfie could speak French. His school records showed he had studied English and Italian. He learned French from a childhood tutor.
Wolfe's official translator was a Gestapo agent who had no command of idiomatic French at all. Wolfie was to go to Switzerland to help negotiate sealing the border more tightly and when his commander heard the translator try to make a French sentence, the man was dismissed on the spot. The commander, General Wildebrandt, could speak some French and didn't want to be humiliated in front of the Swiss officials. His rank gave him power, even with the Gestapo. I was drafted to be a translator for the visit, until they could find another.
The General, Wolfie and I were off to Switzerland for a week of discussions. The General seemed to be a pleasant man once you got to know him. In peacetime, he had been assigned to an embassy as an aide, and he had no desire to get back into fighting. It was obvious he was glad to be out of the war.
It was clear Wildebrandt ho no interest in closing up the border at all. He was a clever man and I knew he would have no trouble writing a report that made things sound good to his superiors, but the negotiations were an excuse to get away from the stress of occupied France. I had a day off when the General and Wolfie went to the embassy in Bern and I decided to locate S. Westburg, my correspondent in Switzerland. His address was in Geneva.
I wanted to thank him for his help. I also wanted to check him out. I had read novels about double agents who allow small fry to escape to establish credibility and wanted to see the man in person and make sure he wasn't working out of the German Consul's office.
The office was easy to find, the sign over the door said it was the headquarters of the Beaux Arts Importers. The secretary called Herr Westburg and much to my surprise, Samuel Westheimer appeared.
"Jean! You escaped!" he cried as he ushered me into his office. "Are you hurt?" I had all but forgotten about the accident and my bad leg, they seemed minor compared to the current disaster. I filled Sam in on the last few years and then explained my odd reason for being in Switzerland.
"My God, Jean! I can't believe you are here. A translator for the Germans! It's too bad you got out. A man in that position could be very useful to us."
"When I saw you in Dresden I knew you were working for the King. I am just here for a day. I will be going back this weekend." Sam didn't need to recruit me to help, I was ready. He hadn't realized Wolfie was in charge of the area, and knew of General Wildebrandt.
"Your General likes men!" Samuel said. "He was in Britain at the Embassy and cut a wide swath in some circles. He was good at cocktail parties and pleasant company for the ladies, but his real interest was athletes and weight lifters. No wonder he is with Wolfie."
"I'm no athlete, so you're out of luck there." I said. "I'll be no lame Mata Hari for you!" We both laughed. I was heavily bearded now and had put on some weight so I was as far from a svelte sex kitten as any human being could be. The combination of images was comic.
"The General likes weight lifters, but he also likes men who are big in another sense!" Samuel explained. "Your accident didn't effect that did it?" I laughed.
"Not at all. Everything is still working. It is a bit rusty from lack of use."
"Well, if the opportunity arises, follow Queen Victoria's advice to her Daughter as she married the German Crown Prince. Close your eyes and think of England!" he said, then he paused. "Oh, and don't forget to take notes."
"Sam, we've moved on from Mata Hari to Queen Victoria. Somehow I don't see myself in either role." We both laughed.
"I will get you a radio so we can communicate. Sometimes, I need something specific." He looked at me. "You do realize how dangerous this is?" I was surprised that being recruited to be a spy was so easy. Samuel and I said almost nothing. We both knew what was needed and had to be done.
"I'm afraid I do." I said. We kissed and I returned to my hotel. I got back before the General and Wolfie returned. They called me to their suite. The meeting at the embassy had not been a success. Both men had been through the ringer. Their scheme was to do as little as possible without having attention drawn to them, but they had miscalculated. Room service brought a bottle of English whiskey and they sat down to figure out a scheme to keep from being transferred to a place that might see some action.
I was part of the discussions. The General had no problem with escapees. He wasn't anti-semitic and seemed to like the French. He didn't want anything to happen to his men, but other than that he didn't care.
I went to the bathroom, and was pissing when the General appeared. I had drunk a lot and had a full bladder. The General watched. I was embarrassed until I realized he was all but drooling. He stood beside me and held my cock as I pissed.
"It's beautiful." he said quietly. "Big and beautiful."