The story is written in collaboration with my friend Fred in Norway and is completely fictional. Ivar is a youngster of the writer's imagination, and so are the men he meets on his `educational journey'.
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Europe with Spartacus
Chapter 12
Paris Đ French Riviera (1975)
Ivar was surprised by the hearty welcome from Ken, whom he had first met on the train some weeks earlier, and then in the Louvre art gallery the other day. He was also surprised by what Ken was wearing - a sort of see-through sleeveless dress, almost like an insect net, showing that he was naked underneath. Ivar felt over-dressed in long trousers and a leather jacket, and the apartment was really hot. The sun streamed through the huge windows.
"Sorry for dressing like this today, Ivar. Honestly, I worked naked earlier because of the heat but I thought I must put something on so as not to scare you more than necessary." Ken took hold of Ivar's backpack and placed it in the corner.
"Well, I have seen you naked already, you know. The pictures you showed me on the train were great, and your body is like that of a well-trained athlete. I can see that you model too," Ivar said as he looked around. The walls in the one-room apartment were covered with photos, all of the same two naked men in spectacular surroundings.
"The pictures on the walls are just small copies!" Ken pointed to some of them. "We work with slides for the exhibitions. I'll show you the Norwegian ones when it's dark outside. But now we must have a cold drink. Beer?" Ken went over to the kitchen corner, divided from the rest of the room by a small bar. Ivar looked around for a place to sit. One third of the room was taken up by a huge double canopied bed. In addition to that, there were two leather chairs and a small table. A narrow door seemed to lead to a small balcony.
"We live and work in the bed as you can see." Ken saw Ivar's searching look. "A lot can be done there!" He grinned and his voice went into falsetto in his excitement. He handed Ivar a large beer. "Now you must make yourself comfortable. Dressing is optional around here. The tiny bathroom is behind the cupboard over there, if you need to freshen up."
"Are you both naturists?" Ivar was curious, and the man was close to naked, so he had to ask. His eyes had been at Ken's perfect round butt and the flaccid dick that seemed above average in size. No body hair on that man. Ivar had to concentrate not to grow an erection just now, but he struggled.
"I'm not quite sure what you mean by naturist," Ken smiled. "Henrik, as a true German, has been naked since he was born; naked in all possible places and situations. This work is his idea!" Again he pointed at the pictures.
"But you are naked in all the pictures too!" Ivar had to adjust his own growing prick a little.
"I was afraid of my body and of nudity when I met Henrik ten years ago. My ultra-religious parents had taught their kids that nudity was a sin and should be punished. It's a long story, Ivar. Forget it. I was very soon transformed." He smiled and placed a hand on Ivar's arm. "Now the situation dictates whether I am a naturist or not." He went over to the kitchen. "For example, when I cook I prefer an apron."
Ken pulled off the strange dress and was completely naked. Ivar swallowed; he thought he could see a change in the hanging circumcised beauty. Then Ken picked up a long black apron. When he then turned to the bar the globe-round buttocks were like framed in the black gear. Ivar had to hide his stiff cock.
"Drink up, Ivar, and then help me with the salad for the supper. I have another apron for you." Ken smiled at the boy who still was standing in the middle of the room.
"I think I need the bathroom, Ken, and it's really hot here soÉ" Ivar blushed and went up to the door with his shoes and his socks, then he went to the bathroom.
"You may use Erik's slippers. I think you are the same size." Ivar didn't see that Ken grinned. "He will not be back from Hamburg for another fourteen days."
The bathroom was the smallest Ivar had ever seen. It had a toilet, a sink and a hand shower, plus a bidet, like in all French bathrooms. Ivar did not know what to do. He sat down and pissed, pressing his hard-on down. He could wank to relieve the pressure like a schoolkid, but no. Not now.
Ivar looked in the mirror. "A lot can be done in the bed," Ken had proclaimed. "Maybe that was an invitation?" Ivar wondered. He hung his trousers, singlet and shirt on a free hanger. Then he arranged the hard cock inside the low-cut bikini he nearly always wore and found Henrik's slippers. He returned to the main room where Ken put down the knife he was using.
"Fuck! What a heavenly sight!" Ken nearly shouted. "You are a Viking prince, Ivar. That's what Henrik called you on the train. Please turn around."
Ivar turned slowly. He closed his eyes. He was on stage now. From some distance he heard an order: "Please strip off your briefs, Ivar!" And he did, slowly, like a performance, and he let his hands adjust his balls and his cockshaft. The knife Ken had been using fell on the floor with a sharp click. Ivar was brought back to the real situation, and he felt incredibly foolish. Here he was standing in a strange apartment with a man he hardly knew, with his dripping cock like a slut. He saw that the man in an apron had a camera in his hand, and worked fast like a press photographer.
"I had to record your professional entrance, Ivar! Henrik will love this. Forget about that underwear, kid. Here's an apron for you. I have roasted chicken here, and we'll make a nice salad. Better than going out tonight. You like red wine, I hope?" Ken talked without breaks. He was very excited. Two aprons hid two very stiff cocks.
The meal had been great, and strangely enough both Ken and Ivar kept their aprons on while they had the meal sitting on high stools in front of the stove.
"You want a drink on the balcony while we watch the sunset, Ivar? You don't have to get dressed. The ladies in the park will enjoy the view, you see!" Ken grinned.
Ivar handed Ken the apron and found a nice outdoor chair. Ken was soon there and served a chilled orange-gin cocktail, which Ivar thought was excellent. Ivar tried not to think about sex, but the situation was electric.
"Sorry, Ken, but I need to make a call. Okay if I borrow your phone? Monsieur Isac, my former landlord, has booked me a bed in a student house, and I have to tell the house owner when I will arrive because they close at night." Ivar had told previously Ken that he had checked out from the hostel that morning.
"No way, kid! You are staying with me, okay? I'm alone, and I'd love your company. I have an extra mattress if you don't want to share the bed with me." Ken used his hands to underline what he said.
A small pause followed. In a way Ivar wanted to go south now, but he liked this man, and he had no schedule, so why not.
"Settled then!" Ken lifted his glass before Ivar had time to answer properly. Ivar lifted his glass too. The sun was setting as they smiled at each other. "Now you phone and cancel the booking," said Ken.
"You want to see some of our pictures for the exhibitions?" Ken asked when the darkness made the room better for viewing slides. "Jump onto the bed. I have a screen on the other side of the room."
Ivar was in excellent mood. He was naked, he'd had food, wine and other drinks, and he was entertained, but above all Đ he was very horny and covered his pride with the bed clothes.
"Just to explain the idea..." Ken was lecturing now. "We are picturing a well-known landscape or building. It's important that the public knows the place. Then we model. We are the spice, as you might say, not the dish!"
"Damned hot spice, I must say," Ivar responded. Two naked men showed their round backsides in front of the Athens Acropolis, before the show changed to the Coliseum in Rome.
"How can you manage without being arrested for public nudity?" Ivar was curious.
"That's always a problem," Ken answered. "We shoot early or late, and sometimes we manage to get an agreement or use some helpers."
"Easier in natural surroundings obviously." Ken now showed a picture from Norway, the famous `Trollstigen' road with Ken and Henrik nude, hand in hand at the fore. "Not another person around that morning!"
After the half an hour show Ken switched the projector off. "I see you are tired, Ivar. Sorry for my lecturing!"
"No problem!" Ivar said. He had been back to school for a while. "Why are there no pictures from France?" he asked.
"A pity, isn't it? You never see your own garden's potential, maybe it's something like that." Again Ken went over to the kitchen and served them a huge glass of cold gin-orange. "We need a nightcap, eh? And I have a plan, but I don't want to tell you until tomorrow!" He jumped up beside Ivar on the bed.
It was early night. Ivar tried to find sleep on a rather thin mattress on the floor. He had moved from side to side for the last half hour.
"You asleep, kid?" Ken not more than whispered.
"No, sorry. I think I drank too much!" Ivar needed an excuse. He wanted to wank, but he couldn't.
"You horny, baby?" Ken went on.
"Fuck! What do you think? I've dreamed about sucking you the last few hours!" Ivar heard his own sore voice.
"Why just dream, kid? You afraid? I have been waiting for you since yesterday." No answer from the floor. "I'm still waiting! Come on, boy. Let me feel your Viking blood; I want your cock inside me!"
Ivar got up quickly and without a word dived into the huge bed where a naked, fully erect man waited for his young visitor. Two hot bodies met in full embrace, and two mouths met in deep and hard kissing. A dam was broken. The 32 year old Canadian, and the just 18 year old boy, let their stiff and wet cocks explore each other.
"You fuck me Ivar, please!" Ken whispered.
"If I can manage. I'm just a kid, you know!" Ivar tried to joke.
"The kid with the most beautiful tool I ever seen!" Ken had found Ivar's dick and wanked him with a hard fist.
Ivar was not prepared for this. His fucking with the American brothers had just been a sort of play between same-age mates. Now a real man asked him to top him. Ivar spread Ken's buttocks and played with his love-entrance. The man showed every sign of a bottom's lust.
Ivar turned around and found Ken's cut cock. With skill he took hold of the average-sized cock with the mushroom glans and sucked him until the male's body shivered. Ivar squeezed the loose balls and then took them into his mouth one by one, while using his nails on the man's piss-slit.
"Stop! Please stop, or I will cum. Fuck me, please." Ken turned around and placed himself doggy. His round buttocks were hard and shining, and the hairless pussy was an invitation for the horny fucker.
Ken found a tube of cream from a shelf above the bed. Ivar knelt and let Ken grease up his iron-hard boy-cock, a shiny cock without visible veins, and a boyish foreskin that needed to be stretched. Very eager, Ken tried to place Ivar's cock in his crack. He seemed to be in a hurry.
"Let me rim you first, Ken. I have to eat your arse!" Ivar bent down.
"Fuck! Fuck! Henrik neverÉneverÉ ahÉ" Again Ken shivered. "...never sucks me, or licks me. I'mÉ I'mÉ" Ken moaned when Ivar's tongue entered his hole.
"But he binds you, I understand." Ivar had seen the ropes at each corner of the bed. "And then he fucks you." He pressed his cock against the entrance and penetrated the Canadian man. "Then he fucks you senseless, eh?" Ivar bottomed the man, and went on fucking at once, with short and long strokes in different combinations. Ken moaned and screamed, and then he moaned again.
"Yes, yes, you use me hard too. I like it, I like it! Please, harder Viking. Use your bone, use your Viking boneÉI'm...I'm cumming!" The man's contractions stimulated the young man, and their first fuck ended in a dual orgasm. Ivar sent his spunk into the kneeling man, and Ken managed to catch some of his own by a cupping hand.
"Give it to me, please!" Ivar said and licked the man's hand.
"You like man-milk, yes? Next time you may take it direct from my teat if you want too!" The he gave Ivar his lips, still wet by his own juice.
It was Friday and party-time in the small apartment. Some guests were naked, some partly dressed. Ivar had put on a bikini since he would meet some people he hadn't seen before.
One night in the apartment had turned into a week. The first day the two had been in bed all the time. They had had sex in all variations. When a young guy from the photo shop arrived with developed slides, Ivar had learned that he was partly paid by sex too. Ivar had been happy that the youngster was a tough top. For the first time in his young life, he had had his own boy-cunt filled with a battering cock while he had filled up the host with his own iron tool at the same time. Being the middle of a sandwich had become a reality for the young Viking!
"I want to show you all the results of this week's work. I call it `Viking visit.' Ken started the slide-show.
Over the next half hour, the guests were able to see the nude Ivar in Paris; in front of the Eiffel Tower, in front of the Sacre Coeur, in the Tuileries Garden, in the gardens of Versailles, inside the Gare de Nord, on the Champs Elysees and other different places. All the pictures, similar to the ones on the walls, showed the nude Ivar in front of all the Paris landmarks.
"How could you?" One of the guests said as he applauded.
"Well, I was arrested once," Ivar said. "But since I was a crazy foreigner I was set free with a warning."
"But the warning didn't help!" Ken grinned. "Ivar has promised me more pictures. We will leave for the Riviera tomorrow." The show ended with huge applause from the guests.
"I'm sorry that there are no frontals," one guest said. "I'm sure you have a hot front too!" He looked at Ivar with a smile.
"You will allow me to show our secret photos, Ivar?" Ken was holding a new cassette.
"Okay, but I haven't seen all of them myself!" Ivar answered.
Most of the pictures were from the apartment, some from the nearest forest, and some from the balcony; erotic pictures, very sensual, hot frontals, and sexy close-ups. This part of the show ended with a picture of Ivar in the bed wanking his morning-wood.
"Sorry, Ivar! The last one should not been shown. It's from our private collection!" Ken grinned. "The real one is much nicer!" All present could see the heavy tenting in Ivar's shorts. The new nude model did not bother.
Ken had bought first class railway tickets for the early morning departure to the southern French cities. They had just left Gare de Lyon and Ivar's three weeks stay in Paris had ended.
He opened his Spartacus Guide and showed the pages to Ken. "I think I have done Paris," he said with a smile. Ken answered by placing a hand inside Ivar's shirt to caress the boy's naked back.
"Do you know why Cannes is called the gay city of the south?" Ivar whispered. He was already planning the next step of his European adventure.
"I didn't know it is called that! It's a pity I booked hotel for us in Nice then." Ken yawned. "Maybe because of all the hot men coming for the film festivals?" He was about to take a nap.
"The guidebook says that the first gay bar in France, maybe in all Europe, was opened in Cannes in 1885!" Ivar smiled. Ken was in dreamland. Ivar placed his head on his Canadian friend's shoulder.
The hotel room in Nice was excellent; close to the Old Town, and with a glimpse of the Mediterranean. "The hotel has free sunbeds for us on the private beach," Ken told Ivar after they checked in. "We just need to show the room key."
Ivar hugged the smiling man. "Thanks to you, I feel like a luxury tourist. My plan was a bed in the youth hostel dormitory."
"That would be a good place to check out horny guys, I guess. Here it's just me!" Ken pretended to pouted.
Ivar blushed, because he had thought the same. He put his arms around Ken's neck and kissed him lightly. "You will have to push me out when you meet all the dark handsome studs," he said.
"Yes, I will! I'll push you out just now. You go to the beach and get some afternoon sun. I need to rent a car for us, and I have to call Henrik as well. He doesn't know I've gone to Nice. He will be very envious!"
Ivar used his key and was shown to a sunbed with a parasol. He was handed towels and even a tube of sun cream. The young servant dressed in all white was probably not older than Ivar. He was dark and well-tanned. "You may change inside, sir. You have a private locker for your valuables."
Ivar felt very strange being called `sir', but he followed the lad to a luxurious changing room and was given a private cubicle. This was far from his style. He looked at his pale body in the mirror, but smiled when he put on the smallest possible bikini. He touched the pubic line. "Good that Ken shaved me completely in Paris," he thought. "But very girlish!" The touching of his lower body made his bulge grow so he hurried back to the sunbed.
"What drink would you like, young man?" A waiter in a tight white top and black trousers that followed the body like an extra skin stood beside Ivar's bed. "We would like to offer you a welcome drink. Your first visit here, I believe." The man in his late twenties handed Ivar the bar menu.
Ivar swallowed. His eyes went from the man's bulging biceps to his crotch and then back to the white smile and the oiled dark hair. "Please bring me a mojito with lots of ice, sir. I need something really cold."
The man grinned, and Ivar saw that he was checking out his body. The youngster was not able to control the situation. His erection was about to fill the small bikini completely. When he tried to re-arrange the chair to a lower position the junior lad was there with a helping hand at once, also bringing a pillow. Ivar thanked him and turned his back to the sun.
The drink was brought on a tray and placed on a small table. The waiter made errands to and fro and Ivar was sure he was being checked out. "Let me test you," he thought. He sat up, found the sun-cream and started to apply cream to the front of his body. The waiter followed every movement, but had to serve some old ladies close to the stony beach. The junior was close again.
"You want me to apply cream to your back, sir? The sun is quite tough for your Nordic skin," he said.
"Thank you, my friend. Nice of you to help me! How did you know I'm Nordic?" Ivar smiled and lay back down.
"Your beautiful hair!" The youngster was very serious. He knelt beside Ivar and rubbed sun cream all over his neck, shoulders and back. In a glimpse, Ivar saw that the waiter was following the action. He was really in the mood for teasing. He pulled the bikini down underneath his round globes.
"I could do with some treatment for my bum too. You mind?" Ivar looked at the youngster who did not show any reaction. He just used his young professional hands on Ivar's buttocks and let his fingers follow the crack to take care of the remaining cream.
"You are very good, my friend. I really need a full massage after the long journey today," Ivar commended.
"We do massage here too sir, but you have to order ahead. I'll check the list for tonight if you want me to." The boy was about to finish.
Ivar relaxed; he finished his drink and then hurried into the water. The water temperature was great and the sun was bright. From the water he saw the city, the lovely houses and the beach promenade. He remembered that Promenade des Anglais was the name in the guide-book. After a long relaxing swim he looked for the private beach where he had his sunbed. It would soon supper-time, but Ken had not arrived. He stopped at the stony part of the beach where the waiter handed him a huge white towel.
"We have a cancellation young man, so if you please, you can have a massage in half an hour." He led Ivar to the outdoor shower and waited while he got rid of the salt and sand.
"Thank you. That's perfect!" Ivar said as he followed the man. The waiter opened the door to a nice massage-cabin where the junior servant waited. "Please help our guest, garon! I'll be back in some minutes. You may use the indoor shower and get you hair done after the massage, if you wish," he told Ivar before he left.
"Maybe you want to remove your wet swimming trunks, sir?" The youngster held up a towel to cover Ivar's private parts. Then he helped him to dry, before Ivar lay face down on the massage bench. The youngster placed a dry towel across his bum, then he left.
When the door again opened, Ivar turned his head to see the masseur. It was like he hoped. The former waiter had changed to a white short-sleeved and short-legged uniform.
To be continued.