Date: Sun, 20 Jan 2002 19:05:09 -0800 (PST)
From: Bob Archman <bldhrymn@yahoo.com>
Subject: Europa 6

Europa 6

By Bald Hairy Man

Email, bldhrymn@yahoo.com or bldhrymn@aol.com, The Excite address doesn't
work any more.

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.


After exploring the cave we returned to my house for dinner. My Aunt had
made a masterpiece of provincial French cooking, remarkably good given the
food shortages. She was complimented generously. She beamed with pleasure
and then told us she would need to leave for the rest of the week. A dear
friend was sick and needed nursing care.

Emile volunteered to drive her to the home. It was five miles away and
there were no conveyances other than foot anymore. He would drop his party
off at the hotel and then take her to the isolated farm.  "It will be a bit
crowded in the car, but we can manage."

"Perhaps I could spend the night and get to the Museum with Jean in the
morning." Louis suggested. "That would alleviate the overcrowding." I said
that arrangement was fine with me, so the men took off in the car with my
Aunt.

Louis was excited about the cave. "Many people could hide there." he
said. "It would be good in the summer, but in the winter wouldn't the
tracks be visible in the snow?"

"Footprints don't last in the mountains." I said. "The west side of that
area is subject to strong winds. I went there last January and after
fifteen minutes any trace of my footprints had been blown away." Louis
looked relieved.

"I wanted to speak with you alone." Louis said. "I have some nonpolitical
friends I would like to get to safety. Albert is very political. I am
not. My friends are in danger.  Some are homosexual, some are Jewish, some
are homosexual Jews. I had many friends in the theater and art crowd in
Berlin. I don't think anyone here realized the full extent of the
danger. The Nazis are beasts."

"I would love to help you, but winning the war is the main objective." I
said. "I couldn't endanger the bigger objectives to save individuals."
Louis looked at me.

"I understand completely." he said. "My plan is simple. I will use my
friends as couriers whenever possible. Albert's thinking is to have
Resistance members be the couriers.  If they were to be captured, it would
be a disaster. My friends are not important people. I would keep them in
ignorance of the Resistance and thus they couldn't betray us."

"I guess that makes sense." I agreed, somewhat unwillingly. "It is very
dangerous and physically demanding. Do you have friends who can do it?"

"That may be a problem, but I must be strong. I can only select those who
can make it." Louis said. "However, let's face it. A Jew or Fag trying to
escape from Nazi control is the most natural thing in the world. The border
guards know that. No Jew needs to explain himself. They wouldn't expect
them to be couriers."  We discussed his plan in great detail for the next
hour. Louis had planned it very carefully. He was both detailed and
imaginative in his approach. We talked late into the night in my darkened
house. Electricity was turned off after 11:00.

There was a knocking at the door at midnight. I immediately thought that my
luck had run out and the firing squad was waiting. I answered the door. It
was Emile. He had dropped off my Aunt and had returned to get Louis.

"I'm glad you came." Louis said. "I have explained our little plan to Jean
and he will help us."  Emile gave me a bear hug.

"When I saw the cave, I knew it was perfect. I misjudged you, I must
apologize." Emile said. "I though you were one of Albert's friends, willing
but physically weak. I should have known you were all right when I saw you
climbing over the mountain."  We talked and I realized that Emile was the
co-author of the plan. He had been a strongman in a carnival and bouncer at
some not very respectable establishments in Paris. As a homosexual
muscleman he had many admirers.

He was driven by a violent loathing of the Nazis and passion for his many
lovers. He also thought he was a dead man anyway should the Nazis find him
and wanted to save as many of his friends as he could. He had struck me as
being sullen and taciturn when I first met him. He was friendly and open
now.

We heard rain and wind. There was a downpour. I invited the men to spend
the night. They agreed. I took the only candle and led them upstairs to the
bedrooms.  The house was cool since the spring hadn't been very warm and
the house wasn't heated.

I showed them the guest bedroom and the bathroom and then went to my
room. I undressed and put my robe on, went to the toilet and washed. Emile
entered the bath. He stood behind me, undid my robe and felt for my cock.

"Louis and I were planning to enjoy ourselves tonight." he whispered,
"Would you care to join us?" He paused and felt my cock. "Damn you've got a
big one!"  I was tempted.

"It's really late and I am very tired."

"Don't worry about that." he whispered. "Lou and I will do all the work. I
haven't sucked one as big as yours in years. You can sleep and cum. You
don't even need to be awake." I thought about telling him I wasn't
interested, but his stroking had already made it clear my cock was
interested.  Before I had a chance to answer, he picked me up and carried
me into the guest room. I am not a small man, but it was effortless for
him.

A few seconds later I was naked in the bed with both men. Emile and Louis
were good friends and they shared my cock. They bickered good naturedly as
to who would suck and for how long.  They had totally different
techniques. Louis deep throated me and used my cock to scratch his tonsils.
Emile was almost delicate in the way he tongued my head. I was close
several times with each. Finally I popped and Emile drank it down. I fell
asleep.

I woke just after dawn, sandwiched between the two men. The house had been
dark and they had been at my cock, so I hadn't seen the men naked. I didn't
have much sense of what their bodies were like. I was shocked to see how
badly I had misjudged them. Dressed, Emile was a dumpy, overweight man,
naked he looked like the muscleman Sandow, except for his dark complexion
and coat of black hair.

Louis looked like an effete popinjay. Naked, he had a greyhound like
slimness, all toned muscles without a suggestion of fat. He was a natural
blond with a mat of darker hair on his chest and a stream of hair
connecting his chest to his pubic hair. I moved and Emile got up to let me
off of the bed. His cock seemed to be all head and balls.  He was cut and
the purple head looked as if it was the size of a ripe plum. The piss slit
all but bisected the head.

I looked at it, dropped to my knees and took the head into my mouth. Even
soft I had to open wide. I licked the tip with my tongue then flicked it on
the slit. I could taste old precum on it. As I did, the slit parted and I
found my tongue deep inside the head in the cum tunnel. I got incredibly
excited as my tongue worked its way deep into Emile's cock. I had never
done that before, no one had been thick or wide enough to permit my tongue
deep into the shaft.

Emile moaned and oozed fresh precum as I explored deeper. Erect his cock
was short, but remarkably thick. I found my self trying to force my tongue
still deeper into the shaft. Emile liked that too. The tender lining of the
tunnel responded to my tongue and we were both getting really excited. He
tensed up and I knew he was ready to shoot. I rammed my tongue as deep as I
could.

Emile bellowed as he climaxed and I trapped the cum in his cock. I could
feel the sperm shooting against the tip of my tongue. I finally pulled back
and he immediately filled my mouth with the product of his multiple
ejaculations.

This woke up Louis who watched with amusement. I stood up with my mouth
filled with cum trying to decide if I should swallow it or spit it out when
Louis kissed me. Emile joined in and we shared his sperm.

"I love breakfast in bed." Louis said after we broke apart. "I've always
liked kosher food." I understood Emile's hatred of the Nazis.

A month later I had the first guests at the Blue Bear Cave. Emile drove
them to the museum. My building had been certified as a depository for
works of art. We assumed that Paris would be bombed and my museum in a
mountainous area near Switzerland was a safe place. The truck was labeled
"Musee de L'Homme". It was filled with crates and boxes.

German soldiers watched every move at first, but Albert had cleverly filled
the truck with stone age artifacts. The soldiers opened a few boxes and
realized there was no gold or obviously valuable things. I had mentioned
the shipment to Wolfie. I was not sure, but I think he guessed there would
be some Jewish cargo. He assigned his most slovenly and lazy men. I
provided wine for their lunch. They slept the entire afternoon. The men
from the Musee all dressed in the same uniforms and it was difficult to
tell them apart.

That night I led them over the dark trails to the cave. Much to my surprise
there were six men. I had thought there were only three. One of the men had
trouble, the mountain was more than he had anticipated, but he made it. He
did not complain. Louis had selected his men well.


France, New Years, 1942


I learned in November my parents were killed in the bombing of London. They
had been watching for bombers on the roof of their hotel, when it suffered
a direct hit. I had thought they were safe in England, but realized there
was no safety anywhere in Europe. Samuel sent me a letter and said they
were buried in his family's grave yard. DeGaul himself had attended the
funeral. "All was done properly." he wrote.

My Aunt took it well. "An honorable death in these times is all you can
hope for." she said. The next time I saw Wolfie he told me he was sorry to
hear of my parents death. I didn't know how he had found out, but
apparently the Free French radio had covered the funeral.

On January 1, I went to the Chateau for an official New Years event. It was
a dreary affair with the Mayor and Bishop and local dignitaries exchanging
greetings with the General. Everything was very proper, but I knew the
Prefect of Police was a member of the Resistance, as was the Treasurer of
the Commune.

After translating for the official reception, General Wildebrandt took me
aside. He was with one of his boys, Hans. Hans looked quite a bit like
Siegfried, a hero straight from a Wagnerian opera.  The General had told me
Hans was hung like a horse, but didn't have the intelligence of the dumbest
farm animal.

"My dear Jean!" the General cried. "I have a chance for you to help save
the Culture of the Reich!" I must have looked appalled. He realized his
mistake. "I mean to save some works of art.  They are German, but they are
art. Can you admire art without a Nazi taint?" I nodded. He got closer. "We
have lost. The American's are in. The Russian's are in. It is over for us."

"You still seem to be adding victory to victory." I said.

"You remember I was a diplomat." he said. "I said the British would never
surrender. Have you been to America?  It is vast, untouched by war and all
but untouchable. Nothing but factories, raw materials and food. We don't
have a single bomber that could touch her. If Churchill had asked for a
divine favor of the highest order, he could not have asked for more than
Pearl Harbor."

"Wolfie tells me you know all the caves in this area. Are there any
suitable for storing works of art?" the General asked. "I have friends in
artistic circles in Germany who want to save our art.  Not the Nazi
shit. We want to save the Durers, the Holbeins. The real art. We figure it
would be safe here. Unless Switzerland declares war on us, this is the most
out of the way place in Europe."  I agreed this was out of the way, but
didn't know how to do it and was reluctant.

"My dear Jean. You have perhaps noted that some of our leaders are noted
for their rapaciousness. They seem to acquire art from the captured
nations. I might be able to help you in some way." the General said.

"And how is that?"

"They don't take it from their fellow officers. I can confiscate the works,
but turn it over to your museum. Your museum is a joke among the
"Collectors." They have no interest in stone age tools. I will save what I
can if you can help me save my treasures." he explained. He began to
whisper. "I have access to a truckload of modern works, stolen from Jews in
Paris. It is safer here than in Berlin." I said I would do what I could.

"Come to my private rooms for a drink, will you?" he asked. "These
receptions make me dry." I followed him to the upper floor. His personal
guard had cleared the house of guests and of the Gestapo agent who had been
with us earlier. His rooms were sumptuously decorated and warm.  There was
little heat anywhere in France, but these rooms were toasty. There was
champagne on ice and food piled on a table. At first, there were only the
three of us.

A few minutes later Wolfie joined us with Max and Otto, my old
professor. Otto looked tired and was much thinner than he had been before
the war. We embraced warmly. He told me he no longer taught. He couldn't
toe the Nazi line, so he was now the registrar of collections for one of
the museums in Dresden. To my surprise, the General had been one of his
students in Berlin. The General retained the very German awe of learned men
and deferred to Otto as a great man.

Otto was afraid for the safety of the art work in his collection and had
contacted Wildebrandt to see if he could find a safe place. The General
felt that Dresden should be safe, but wouldn't contradict his former
professor.  Thus the General contacted me.  I felt a lot better about the
entire arrangement knowing Otto was at the root of it. We had several
drinks and we all began to feel a bit more festive. Otto went off to the
toilet and the General followed.

I didn't expect them back soon. I knew the Generals approach to sex and
could guess what was going on. Wolfie vanished next. I realized my first
coupling with the General and Wolfie hadn't been as spontaneous as I had
thought.  I smiled to myself. Otto looked as if he could use some cheering
up and fucking a former student, who was now a General in the Army, might
be just what he needed.

Max and Hans obviously were playmates and Hans was hoping the party would
end early, so they could go at it. Max winked at me. Hans apparently didn't
know I was a member of the club. I could hear Otto in the bedroom, so I
knew he was enjoying the General's hospitality. Max stood behind Hans and
cupped his basket in his hand. Hans blushed.

"Hans, there's no need to be embarrassed. We're all men here." Max
said. "You're a big boy. M.  Le Director would be impressed! I'm sure he
would admire your big German cock. Whip it out and dazzle him!"

"The general might come back!" Hans said. "He wouldn't like it."

"There is a private place around the corner. Go there." Max commanded. Hans
did what he was told and we went behind a tapestry. It wasn't really a
room.  It was a big bay window which had been cut off from the room by the
oversized tapestry. The alcove was big enough for a bench and little
else. We were crowded.  Max told Hans to get naked and the Nordic god
striped in record time. Max was almost as fast and it took a while for
me. My bad leg hurt my speed.

There were windows in the room, but the dim light from the moon provided
only pale illumination. It was also cool. I felt Max's cock and remembered
the good times in Wolfie's country home. Max directed my hand to Hans'
crotch and the General had correctly described the soldier's equipment. Max
directed Hans' hand to my cock at the same time.

"The General makes Hans fuck him every morning." Max whispered. "Hans is a
good soldier and does what he is told, but he has an itch deep in his ass
that needs to be scratched."

"I need it scratched so bad, Maxchen!" whined Hans. "You are the only one
who has been able to reach it."

"Stroke the director's cock, Hans. Get it hard, so we can both get to that
special spot." Max continued. "His is bigger than mine. It will feel
wonderful." Max got me to sit on the bench and Hans bent over to suck
me. Max oiled his cock and slipped it into Hans' ass. Hans was a big,
imposing man with limited intelligence and I expected a quick blow job.

Instead, Hans was almost delicate in the way he licked and caressed my
genitals with his tongue. I thought of him as a wine taster savoring a
particularly good vintage. I though of Emile and his approach and wondered
if this had something to do with being musclemen.

Every time Max's cock hit the special place in Hans' ass, the man shivered
and twitched. He was whimpering and I was afraid Max was hurting him. Then
I realized the sexual feeling in Hans' ass were almost too intense for
him. Max motioned to me to take his place at the soldiers ass.

I was going to oil my cock, but Max told me not to worry. "I shot a big
load in there. He's wet enough." he said. Max was right. I was dripping
precum and that, combined with Max's sperm, was just right. It was cold,
but Hans was warm and his ass was hot. I slipped in to the hilt. Hans
gasped.

"He loved it, Do it again!" Max said. I did. I soon found the same spot Max
had toyed with. My cock is longer and much thicker than Max's.  Hans was a
size queen.  He shivered violently when the cock head pressed the
prostate. He was crying. I pulled all the way out.

"Please! Shove it in again! I can't stand it, but I love it!" Hans
said. Hans and I were mismatched.  My cock fucked him to distraction.  His
ass was nice, but didn't really excite me. It felt good and was enjoyable,
but I didn't feel driven to have a climax. It was enjoyable enough to keep
me hard, but not so enjoyable to induce an ejaculation. For Hans, this was
a dream come true.

It was a dream come true for Max too. He later told me he really liked
Hans, but he shot off so fast, Hans would jerk off before there was time
for a second round and the sex was over. With me there, Max could fuck and
shoot, then turn Hans over to me. I would fuck him for twenty or thirty
minutes, until Max was ready to go again. Max would renter his lover's ass
and get a second chance to pop.

On this night Max got a good ten or twelve minutes in the ass on the second
fuck before he shot off. Much to my surprise, I wanted another round, and I
had a slow and beautiful fuck. Hans was worn out by then and was almost
asleep. He still twitched when my head rubbed him the right way. There was
no resistance in his ass as my cock glided in and out on the sea of Max's
cum.

There was a slight noise on the other side of the tapestry.

"The General must be in bed." someone said. "He might as well sleep. He
will be on his way to Berlin in a week. We can then start the round up,
without obstruction."

"The Labor Ministry will be pleased." the other voice said. "Quite frankly,
I don't approve of the policy. Good German labor will do more in a day than
conscripted labor will do in a week." I recognized the voice. It was a
minor Gestapo functionary and his flunky. There was some noise on the other
side of the room. "The microphone is working again." the flunky said.  They
quietly left the room. I suddenly recognized the other voice.  It was Jules
Davoud, he was the radio operator at the Gendarmerie and a collaborator.

I felt a shiver come over me. I was frightened. The Nazis were planning
deportations.  I also was cumming. I couldn't believe that. At least now I
knew, you could fuck a Germans soldier while collecting secret intelligence
and have an orgasm without making a sound. I wondered if Mata Hari even
came close to doing that! There was work to do.