OUT OF THE RUBBLE - 8
Copyright 2004 by Carl Mason
All rights reserved. Other than downloading one copy for strictly personal enjoyment, no part of this story may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic or mechanical, except for reviews, without the written permission of the author. Comments on the story are appreciated and may be addressed to the author at carl5de@netscape.net.
This story contains descriptions of sexual contact between a young adult male and young male teenagers. Nevertheless, "Out of the Rubble" is neither a strictly "suck and fuck" exercise nor is it a story that focuses on the "love of adults for the young"...often without sex or with the mere suggestion of sex. If you are looking for these types of erotic fiction, there are fine examples of each on Nifty. Something slightly different is required here.
However based on real events and places, "Out of the Rubble" is strictly fictional. Any resemblance to actual events, or locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Further, this is homoerotic fiction designed for the personal enjoyment of legal, hopefully mature, adults. If you are not of legal age to read such material, if those in power and/or those whom you trust treat it as illegal, or if it would create unresolvable moral dilemmas in your life, please leave. Finally, remember that maturity generally demands that anything other than safe sex is sheer insanity!
PART 8
(Revisiting the End of Part 7)
Yes, Bleib du im ew'gen Leben
|:Mein guter Kamerad':|
(Continuing our Story: Seventeen!)
Perspiring heavily, Andreas and Rolf relaxed, sitting side by side on a rough bench in the attic "Exercise Club." The late spring sun had warmed the attic to the point where the inhabitants of Sam's House wryly commented that an exercise session brought a free benefit, a sauna! Legs resting casually apart, they simply allowed the sweat to run off their hard, naked bodies. Every few minutes, one or the other would violently shake his head which, of course, resulted in a shower for his friend - and the explosion of a few mandatory expletives.
Andreas is well known to the readers of this story: Nearly 17; "Classic" in his beauty; soft, light brown hair; intense blue eyes; a relatively hairless, muscular torso with heavy shoulder and upper arm muscles, sharply defined abs, a drum-tight stomach, a pronounced pelvic girdle, and a tight, muscular (but not overly narrow) waist; a thick cock, 5.5"/7", that flowed from a bush of the lightest brown hair; a long hairless scrotum that hung low and held two ping-pong sized balls; the classic "V" of his back with its ridges of muscle protecting the spine; beautifully muscled, dimpled buttocks; legs of strength and almost painful beauty - the thighs heavily muscled and almost smooth; lightly furred, well-rounded, muscular calves; feet and toes that would have graced a Grecian statue; skin that seemed to glow from within as does the finest marble; perhaps 5'-9", and 165 lbs.
His friend Rolf was also nearly 17 (born, in fact, on the same July day as Andreas, though in a small village near Tieferwald rather than deep in the forests of Slovakia); somewhat more rugged in his looks than Andreas, but still decidedly handsome; jet black hair; green eyes flecked with gold; a highly defined, relatively smooth, but slightly less muscular torso with an impressive six-pak and a muscled stomach; moderately heavy hair in his pits, the genital area, and on his calves - less on his thighs, butt, and between his sculpted pecs; a fine cock, 7"/8", with a heavy black bush; a rounded scrotum that held two large balls and seemed to "present" his cock in an eternal half-erection; a beautifully muscled back flowing from nice shoulders and descending in a classic "V" to a tight, narrow waist and a perfectly rounded butt; powerful, somewhat sinewy legs and calves; perhaps a shade under 6', and 170 lbs.
"Rolf," Andreas continued, wiping the sweat from his face, "We've just GOT to get ourselves back into shape! We're not in the panzers or back in the forests any more. Besides, I just heard something very interesting from Sam."
"I kinda thought we WERE in pretty good shape, Andreas. Why the big push?" Rolf asked wearily. "And what's this 'very interesting' something?"
Ignoring Rolf's minor protest, Andreas continued, "Well, Sam told me that he, a URA type, and a few Army buddies are going down to Salzburg for a week in July. Seems that one of his Army buddies has some friends who are stationed down in southern Bavaria...in the foothills of the Alps. That's real sports country, Rolf - winter AND summer. Evidently, they'd be willing to set up a canoeing trip for the two of us, were we interested. And Sam said that it could be a birthday present!"
"If we are interested?! A birthday present?! HOLY SHIT! Oh, man, I can see myself in that canoe...crashing my way through white water...just missing that last fuckin' boulder...slidin' across the finish line, raising my paddle in vic-to-ry! YEAH!" Rolf's back slumped against the wall, his legs spread slightly, his arms flung high into the air.
Rolf's little pantomime brought a big grin from Andreas. "Slow down, Fraeulein!" he commanded. With our great canoeing skills, Sam would never let us anywhere near white water, but we sure as hell would have one excellent camping trip in some unbelievable country! What do you say?"
Rolf answered by giving Andreas another bath, rising wheezingly to his feet, turning up the screw on a piece of real torture equipment, and throwing himself into hard work for another half hour. Finally exhausted, he walked over to Andreas, slapped his butt, and rested his hands on his buddy's shoulders as they marched single-file down the narrow stairs towards the showers.
(The Birthday Party)
Soaking up the July sun, Andreas and Rolf lay silently on the grass at the rear of their home. How could they not think of where they had been on their sixteenth birthdays...only one year previously. Andreas shuddered as he remembered still being on his trek in the country south of Tieferwald...in rags, exhausted, footsore, starving, and fast approaching the moment when all hope is lost. Rolf remembered spending his sixteenth in a Kriegsgefangen-Zusammensetzung [P.O.W. compound], hoping that he would soon be transferred to a P.O.W. Discharge Camp. True, exactly as Hitler had promised, he was "slender and supple, fast as a greyhound, tough as leather, and hard as Krupp steel...brutal, domineering, fearless, [and] cruel." Recently, he had begun to discover that he had been cruelly shortchanged - and that people such as Sam, Ehrhardt, and Andreas could be trusted to lead him out of the hell into which he had been thrust.
Suddenly, the back door of the house burst open and a crowd of teens shot out onto the lawn. As one might guess, enthusiasm was high, for, next to Sam and Sargent Ehrhardt, Andreas and Rolf were clearly favorites among the boys. A new Alsatian puppy scampered around everyone's legs, yapping, whining, and licking. Strange... When Andreas had originally told Sam that the boys had insisted on naming him "Blondi," Sam only shook his head in mock defeat and moaned, "Don't tell me anything more!" Nor could anyone understand on meeting their new four-legged house mate and learning his name why two American officers had nearly rolled on the floor...in laughter. He was such a great pup - even if he had piddled on one of the officer's shoes! Clearly, he was at it again. As Frau Luisa approached a table set up in the middle of the yard, he ran straight between her legs and nearly upset her and the birthday cake she was carrying. The Lord only knows where she had obtained the ingredients for that cake! Inasmuch as there was only enough for a 1-inch (2.54 cm) square piece for each boy, believe that there wasn't a smidgen of chocolate or a crumb in evidence after it had been quickly inhaled!
At that point, Sam appeared with a large box of balloons that had been donated to him by someone at the PX. Everyone received a few with orders to make "creative" gifts for Andreas and Rolf. In later years, Sam allowed that he was glad he had never gotten into Freudian analysis. Still, it was true that the results of their "balloon craft" were pretty suggestive! As usual, some carried things a little too far! Little Wolfgang, for instance, found a pair of bright pink balloons, inflated them, and tied them to his chest. Unfortunately, as Frau Luisa chased him around the yard with her broom, shouting that his new pink boobs had to go, he couldn't get them off! Not long after that, Horst had sided up to Andreas and promised him that he had a "real" gift which he would give him "later."
As the afternoon wound down, the boys joked quietly with their friends, on occasion blushing as it was suggested that had they developed any further, they might never have fit into a canoe and, if they had fit, they might have crashed through the bottom! Finally, Andreas and Rolf sat talking with one of the noncoms from the Base. When they met the next day, the Sargent promised to drive them over to one of the small streams that fed into the River Main and check them out on a canoe. He would also advise them on needed equipment as they prepared for their canoeing and camping adventure.
"Will we be ready for a little white water?" asked the ever-hopeful Rolf.
"Not on your life!" the GI replied. "Sam would have my balls! Beyond the basics, I have to check you out on some safety tips. Don't worry; I know this country. You'll never forget the trip!"
The boys grimaced...before turning away and grinning widely at each other.
(Final Preparations)
The canoe checks had gone well a couple of days ago, for the boys were both natural athletes. Also, they had accepted the fact that activities beyond a beginner's range were simply not going to happen. Their equipment was piled below ready for packing into Sam's jeep in the morning. (They would pick up their canoe when they reached Sam's friends' camp south of Munich.) Having completed their last exercise sets, they had cleaned up and were sitting in Andreas's room excitedly comparing notes.
Looking at Rolf in a calculating manner, Andreas suddenly said, "You not only have a lot of hair on you, Rolf, but you sweat like a stuck pig. Even where we're going to be, it's going to be hot on the water. With all that we face, I think the hair had better go - for hygienic reasons, if nothing else. Believe me, you'll feel a lot better. Any problem with that?"
Rolf gulped, but surrendered to apparently superior wisdom. (The deeply ingrained habit of following orders without question dies only slowly.) Recovering slightly, he mumbled, "Dammit, Andreas! Can't I keep the hair on my head?"
"Yeah, I can't quite see you bald at seventeen," Andreas answered, grinning at Rolf's wry look. "Ok, slip out of your clothes again, hop up on the bed, and I'll get some gear." Moments later, he returned with some large towels, clippers, bowl, a hand towel, a large can of shaving cream, a mean looking strop, and a straight razor. Andreas smiled down at Rolf who lay on his stomach on the towels, relaxed and seemingly enjoying an additional break. "I'm going to run the clippers down your back, friend. They're faster and easier." Running his hand over Rolf's V-shaped back, Andreas found light hair both there and on his rounded, strongly muscled buttocks. The hair quickly disappeared; a little razor work saw to the stubble. "The next few moments are going to be a little uncomfortable, Rolf. Sorry..." he exclaimed. The clippers made short work of the jet-black hair in Rolf's crack. Andreas then rubbed a little shaving cream into the small amount of stubble that remained and completed the job with his razor. When his finger grazed Rolf's pucker, the boy started, but quickly released his breath and unclinched his muscles. "That'a boy," Andreas praised him. Hair on the boy's perineum disappeared as the razor continued its downward journey. As Rolf tightened up again, but quickly relaxed, Andreas rested his hand on the youngster's shoulder, murmuring quietly, "Well done." Gazing down the boy's body, he saw that there was a goodly amount of hair on the back of Rolf's thighs and on his calves, but the clippers made short work of it.
"You ready to turn over?" Andreas asked. Noticing that Rolf's ears and the back of his neck had turned bright red, he laughed and said lightly, "Don't worry. It happens to all of us. Relax for a few seconds more." He softly massaged the top of Rolf's shoulders and the back of his neck until the youngster nodded and began to turn over. At that point, as one might guess, the nature of the "problem" became obvious. To make matters worse, Rolf's cock, which had been deflating, suddenly bobbed twice, stiffened, significantly lengthened and thickened, and snapped rigidly back against his stomach - all 8+ inches of it! More than ever before, it was obvious that Rolf was built like a young stallion! For a few minutes, the two friends sat with their foreheads nearly touching as Andreas attempted to ease Rolf's utter mortification. Finally, Rolf grinned weakly and said, "I'm ok. Let's finish the job."
The thick underarm hair was cleared, and then a few hairs between the pecs, and a few more on the stomach. Jokingly, Andreas put his hand over Rolf's eyes, chortled, "Don't look," and continued. Leaving only a thin crown of dark hair immediately above his cock, the clippers made quick work of the boy's heavy pubes as well as hair on his legs and feet. All that was left, beyond some stubble, was a little hair on Rolf's cock and scrotum. Using his razor with great care, Andreas deftly lifted the youngster's cock and shaved the heavy length of thick meat that more than filled his hand. Then, grasping the heavy, compact scrotum and gently pulling it downwards, he stretched the sack in several directions. Quickly, he removed the remaining hair safely and without further trauma to Rolf. The stubble followed in quick order once the razor has been briskly stropped. The relatively sparse, nearly colorless hairs on Rolf's forearms were left untouched. The task completed, the boy lay peacefully upon the bed, calm and quiet as a statue on top of a sarcophagus, every muscle now open to Andreas's gaze, every breath visibly lifting his proud chest, his body classically perfect in its youth and in its symmetry. Andreas gulped and quietly adjusted his equipment.
"Now, good buddy, you are going to experience the reward reserved for those who faithfully labor in the vineyard," Andreas announced from across the room.
Rolf, sitting up on the bed, wasn't quite sure that completing an exercise program and going along with a full-body shave qualified him as a "faithful laborer," but he grinned and remained silent. When the Andreas returned, he carried an interesting looking bottle that proved to contain an aromatic body oil, of the highest quality and warmed. Signaling to Rolf that he should lie down again, Andreas poured a small quantity into his cupped hand, rubbed his hands lightly together, and began slowly to work it into the boy's torso.
"The game here, Rolf," he murmured almost as if to himself; "is to bring a warm glow to the skin without making it look oily."
Mesmerized by the combination of vapors and the feelings that seemed to be stealing into his body through Andreas's fingers, Rolf could do no more than quiver, partially raise one eyelid, and utter a soft "Oh-h-h-h-h-h-h" by way of response. Once carved of cool marble, his muscles slowly surrendered to Andreas's ministrations, softening and gleaming with a warm and golden light. For uncounted minutes, Andreas's eyes gazed on something of ultimate beauty. Finally, trying unsuccessfully to find some moisture in his parched mouth and throat that would allow him to swallow, Andreas simply shuddered and returned to the everyday world.
Carefully concealing a growing wet spot on the front of his shorts, as well as a tent that he had partially controlled by earlier donning a jockstrap, Andreas had all that he could do to help his groggy friend to his feet, give him a hug, and send him off to bed. Would that he could have joined him! As it was, he was relieved soon thereafter to welcome Horst - and his promised "gift." Horst and Andreas did exchange gifts...gifts that put the flavors of chocolate, vanilla, and sugar to shame. ('Man, oh man,' Andreas thought to himself afterwards, 'that boy has REALLY developed!')
(To Be Continued)